"Gee, this must have been an old place," said Porky. "See the way the edge of this stone is worn—and it is granite at that."
"Look at the size of it, too," said Beany.
They sat studying the stone when a faint feeble wail was heard. They looked at each other, startled.
"Aw, gee, there's a kitten shut up some place," said Beany, jumping up. "Let's find it."
"Sure we will," said Porky, "but we can't take it along. I don't suppose General Pershing would want to add a cat to his traveling party."
"It sounded most dead," said Porky. "Kitty, kitty! Here, kitty," he called in his most persuasive, voice.
Another little cry answered him and gave them the direction. "It's the cellar," said both boys together, and with one accord they seized a couple of stout timbers and commenced to pry away part of the wreckage in what seemed the likeliest entrance to the pitch black: hollow under the bent and broken floor timbers, on which still rested masses of stone.
Suddenly, in response to their efforts, a huge stone, mate to the one they had been sitting on, tipped sidewise and slowly slid down into the darkness, followed by a shaft of light.
There was a sharp cry from below, and the boys looked at each other, a sort of horror on each face.
"That's no kitten!" gasped Beany.