The Dreadnought Boys on Aero Service

by John Henry Goldfrap

But conversation had now ceased between Chance and Merritt, and the others were too far ahead for the lads to catch a word. Before long they emerged, without warning, from a clump of woods, directly upon a wide expanse of salt meadows. The lonely wastes stretched as far as the eye could see. Fleeting glimpses of moonlight, as the clouds swept across the sky, showed the glimmer of the ocean beyond. They could catch the sullen roar of the surf on the beach.

Without hesitation, Herr Muller struck out across the salt meadows, following a narrow path between the hummocks of salt grass. Here and there they crossed stretches of marshy land where the oozy mud came to their ankles.

All at once there suddenly shot up from the gloomy wastes the rectangular outlines of a large building of some kind. As they drew closer to the dark bulk the boys could see that the walls were pierced with numerous windows in monotonous rows. Soon the further fact became evident that each window was barred. There was something indescribably depressing about the aspect,—the gloomy, vast outlines of the dark, deserted building ahead of them, and the pallidly moonlit wastes of salt meadow all about it.

What could the place be? No light appeared in any of the numerous apertures, and the silence hung heavily about it. Suddenly there flashed across Ned the recollection of a flight he had taken some days before when he had soared above a building which, in the daylight, resembled this lonely place. The sight of it standing isolated and vast in the midst of its wild surroundings had impressed him, and on his return he had inquired about it. They had told him that it was an old lunatic asylum. The state had erected it there some years before, but the atmosphere of the salt meadows had proved malarious, and it had been abandoned.

A bulbous-nosed, red-faced old tippler in the village had also been pointed out to him as a man who held down "a soft snap," by being appointed "watchman" to the deserted pile. Evidently the keys had been obtained from him and the gloomy buildings were their destination.

That this was the case they were speedily to learn. Herr Muller approached a stout-looking door, in the top of which was a small, grated opening. Inserting a key he turned the lock and flung the door open. A damp, decaying odor,—the breath of a deserted human dwelling place,—rushed out. In spite of himself Ned shuddered. It reminded him of the crypt of an old church he had inspected in Spain when the ships were on their European cruise.

Muller, who seemed to know the way, threaded several long passages carrying a candle which he had ignited at the doorway. In this manner they traversed a considerable distance. At every turn fresh corridors, long and empty, appeared. The place was a maze of passages and stairways.

At length he paused in front of a rather small door at the end of a hall which, judging from the stairs they had climbed, must have been near the top of the building. He flung this door open, and the next instant the candle was extinguished,—evidently with the intention of concealing his features,—and the boys were roughly thrust forward.

If they had not been taken totally by surprise they might have resisted. But the shoves came suddenly, and projected them into a room through the door before they realized what was happening. The next instant the door clanged behind them, just as Herc hurled himself against it.