Wondering what lay before them, the boys pressed eagerly forward. And then, after a sudden turn, the passage came to an abrupt end. They found themselves up against a stone wall, a veritable, and not figurative one.
“Well, what do you know about this!” exclaimed Jack in chagrin.
“This is the end,” said Paul.
“Perhaps not,” asserted Walter. “This passage must lead somewhere. Nobody would go to all this work making it, only to block it off in this fashion. And it’s blocked off solidly enough, too,” he added as he banged his fist against the stone. Like the steps it seemed to be of cement.
“Isn’t there any way of opening that?” asked Jack.
“There doesn’t seem to be,” Paul said, examining it closely. “Looks to be pretty solid.”
“Can’t be,” declared Jack. “Else how could those spirits or boys get through and up into the bungalow to play tricks with the furniture?”
“If they were spirits a stone wall wouldn’t stop them,” Paul said. “But we can’t do anything more to-night.”
“Can we at any time?” asked Walter.
“Sure!” cried Jack. “We’ll get crowbars to-morrow and tear down this cement wall. Then we’ll find what’s at the other end of the passage. Now come on back and tell the girls.”