“Want me to take a look at the furnace?” Brad offered.
“It might be a good idea,” agreed the Cub leader. “Toss in three or four shovels of coal.”
“I’ll go with you, Brad,” Dan offered.
The two boys descended a narrow, dimly lighted stairway to the church basement.
Walls were damp to the touch. In several places water oozed in through cracks in the decaying masonry.
Cobwebs hung from the overhead beams. In the semi-darkness, Dan ran into one, cringing as it wrapped silken threads about his throat.
“Glug, glug,” he entoned, making a strangling sound. “I’m being choked to death!”
“Cut it out!” Brad ordered. He reached for a switch and the basement room became flooded with light. “What you trying to do? Work up a case of nerves?”
Dan laughed and opened the iron door of the cavernous furnace.
Mr. Hatfield had built his fire well, but it needed more fuel.