Frank Armstrong, Drop Kicker

by Matthew M. Colton

"No use, Frank," he said. "Old Bonesey"—the nickname applied to the Chapel janitor by the boys because he was so lean and bony—"keeps that door locked as tight as a drum. Some one stole the clapper of the bell a few years ago and he is particular about that door. We'd better go and report that pussy is in the tower, and then skip for bed. It's getting late."

But Frank was not listening. Just about the time Jimmy reached the end of his protest, Frank reached the door, which was all in darkness, sunk as it was in the deep wall of the tower, which was at this point perhaps three feet thick.

"Here we are," he said as he grasped the handle. "And here's luck—it's open. Old Bonesey slipped a cog to-night. Come on." Frank stepped over the threshold. Jimmy followed cautiously. The hall was as dark as pitch, not even the faintest ray of light penetrating into the place to help them. Frank, leading, stumbled along and fell over something in the passageway, startling Jimmy half out of his wits.

"Come back here, you chump," he cried in a subdued voice. "I don't like this."

"Come on!" whispered Frank, who had regained his feet and was advancing. "This passage brings us out into the vestibule of the Chapel, and once there we can get into the tower easily. There's a ladder or stairs or something from the back of the gallery."

"Yes, I know that," returned Jimmy in a half whisper, for the gloom of the place chilled him more than the biting air; "but how are we going to climb it in the dark?"

"Oh, it's easy," said Frank. "Come on, I'll lead and you can come behind. I'm going to make a try for that cat."

"All right," said Jimmy almost sulkily, "go on, but if you break your blooming neck you needn't blame me for it," and he shuffled after Frank.

Soon they came out of the passageway and, as Frank said, they were in the vestibule leading to the Chapel. From that vestibule the doors led into the various aisles of the Chapel, and at the farther end of the vestibule rose a circular flight of stairs which led to the gallery and on to the belfry, as the boys well knew. Toward this they made their way cautiously. A little light from the stars came in through the windows at the far end of the vestibule. Frank led on, feeling along the wall and stepping cautiously. They both felt a little queer to be alone in such a place and in such a manner in the dead of night, but, as Frank said afterward, they were on an errand of mercy, and having set out on the mission they would not turn back. Soon they struck the wall at the far end of the vestibule from which they had entered, and a little feeling around gave them the lower step of the winding stairway.