“Tell you what we’ll do,” exclaimed Jack suddenly, struck with an inspiration, “we’ll try the walls. There may be a secret passage or a concealed window in them some place.”
The cow-puncher laughed.
“This ain’t a story book, son, and I never heard of such things outside of one. Lady Gwendolens in real life come out by the fire escape more often than by the old secret passage or the haunted wing.”
Undismayed, however, Jack set about his task. He was in the midst of it, and had met with no success,—not that he had seriously hoped for any,—when a sudden sound pierced the darkened garret.
The noise was that of axes cutting into the roof.
As Jack listened a slight shudder ran through him. From that point of vantage the outlaws could shoot them down as they wished, and there would not be much chance of using their four remaining shots in return. By this time Jack had reached the spot by the big stone chimney from which they had taken the stone used to weight the table above the trap door.
With a rather vague idea of using some more of the stones as weapons, he started pulling down the remaining loose ones. He had been at this work but a few minutes when he gave a sudden cry of triumph.
“Look! Boys! Look here!” he cried, amazedly.
They scurried to his side to find him pointing into a black, yawning mouth, evidently intended originally for a fireplace but left unfinished, as the stones they had used now testified.