“How come you know that?” Phil asked.
“Because if it had, Caldwell wouldn’t be walking off with that roll of money. It would have fallen apart.”
“I wish it was falling apart,” Phil grumbled.
They reached that section of the culvert below the building. Here they selected a drier area of floor and sat down with their backs against the wall. Bill turned off the flashlight to save the batteries. “O.K.,” he said to the others. “So here we are—trapped. The only way of escape is nailed shut. The water’s rising. How far we don’t know yet. Now, what do we do?”
Phil’s voice came out of the blackness. “Just go to sleep and wait until somebody finds us.”
“You’ll sleep until doomsday,” Ronnie told his brother. “Because nobody’s ever going to find us here. Except for us, the only one who knows about this—this dungeon is Mr. Caldwell and it doesn’t look as if he’s going to tell anyone.”
“That’s right, Ronnie,” Bill agreed. “And with the padlock still on the door, who’s going to think of looking inside?”
“And nobody’ll hear us shouting unless they do come inside,” Phil added. “I—Yipes!”
“What’s the matter?” Bill demanded and switched on his flashlight. He picked Phil out of the darkness. Phil was rubbing at the back of his neck.
“A—a drop of cold water went down my back.”