“Well, there it is—a tiny window, just as plain as the nose on your face.”
In silent amazement Florence stared at this narrow opening high up in the bleak stone wall.
“That certainly is strange!” she said finally, her brows drawn together in a thoughtful frown.
“It certainly is,” agreed Jo Ann and Peggy, equally mystified.
Everything was forgotten now except this queer window. Why was it there? Into what did it open?
CHAPTER II
THE SEARCH BEGINS
“This is the strangest thing I’ve ever heard of,” declared Florence as they hurried back to the house, eager to examine the rear wall from the inside.
“How long have you lived here, Florence?” asked Jo Ann. “I’m sure I’d have seen that window long before this if I’d been in your place.”
“We’ve lived here about eight years, but, as I told you, I’ve only been in that church a few times, and I’ve never walked down that back street.”
“Lived here eight years and never walked back of your own house!” exclaimed Jo Ann in surprise. “Who ever heard of such a thing?”