Truem and Fleet could be heard slipping on their shoes, and Chot felt decidedly relieved when they, also, came down the basement steps.
A thorough search was made, no one speaking a word for the space of several moments. Then Chot broke the silence:
“I heard Bert Creighton’s voice calling for help. I’d know it anywhere. It came from the basement, but sounded at a distance, as if he might be concealed somewhere and unable to get out.”
“Then let’s make a more thorough search,” said Truem. “There is some secret about Winnsocket Lodge of which we are in ignorance.”
“Must be a secret room down here somewhere,” said Tom. “I can offer no other solution.”
“Well, perhaps you’ll be kind enough to show us where it is,” said Fleet.
“It may be worked by a spring in the wall,” Tom earnestly replied. “I know that sounds like a fairy tale, but such things exist even to-day in some of the old colonial mansions of Canada, so why shouldn’t a clever man like this Mr. Lawrence adopt the scheme if it served his ends?”
“Well, we’ll make a search, anyway,” said Chot.
Then each took a section of the basement wall and the investigation began. They felt carefully over every inch of surface, even taking the fruit jars off the shelves and peering intently behind them. Luckily the lights were so arranged as to be moveable to almost any part of the basement, and shadows were quickly dispelled whenever the boys desired.
“Hello, what’s this?” said Chot suddenly.