“Nothing, maybe; only, if the back swung out the side shelves wouldn’t stop it! See what I mean?”
“Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn’t swing out, so what’s the—”
“Hold on!” Bob sprang forward and seized the edge of a shelf in the right-hand tier close to the partition board, and pulled. It readily yielded an inch, but no more.
“Wait!” Laurie bent and pulled aside the box of jars. “Now!”
Then, as Bob tugged, to their amazement the right-hand tier swung toward them, its lower edge scraping on the cement floor, and the left-hand tier swung with it, the whole back wall of the closet, shelves and all, opening toward them like a pair of double doors!
“Gee!” whispered Laurie. “What do you suppose—”
“Pull them wide open and let’s find out,” said Bob recklessly.
When the two sides were open as far as they would go, there was an aperture between them some three feet wide. Beyond it was darkness, though, as they gazed, the stones of the cellar wall took shape dimly. Then Laurie seized Bob’s arm.
“Look!” he whispered excitedly. Behind, where the left-hand tier of shelves had stood, was a blacker patch about three feet high by two feet wide, which, as they stared in fascination, evolved itself into an opening in the wall.
“Know what I think?” asked Bob, in low tones. “I think we’ve found the miser’s hiding-place, Nod!”