“Well, what do you think of that?” cried Truem.
“Another illustration of the ingenuity of our friend, Mr. Lawrence,” Chot replied.
“How are we going to block the passageway?” whispered Truem.
“I don’t see any way to block it,” said Chot; “there’s no sign of a door, and it would take all night to fill it with rocks—and even then they could easily work their way out. I don’t see anything to do, Truem, but follow them up the passageway and place them between two fires, and if the smugglers go as far as the basement, they’ll find themselves covered by the revolvers of the boys. Coming in the nature of a surprise, that should accomplish the result we most desire. But should they escape and come back down the passageway, another surprise will be awaiting them, and we’ll cover them from this end.”
“What about Hoki?”
“Let him stay in the canoe. I shall probably go to the north island after this fracas is over.”
Silently Chot and Truem stole up the passageway toward the house, admiring the construction of the place as they went. It was at least six feet in height, made entirely of concrete, and about fifty feet in length.
They could see the entire length of the passageway up to where it took a sharp turn, as they judged, directly under the lodge. The smugglers were nowhere in sight.
“They must have gone into a room of some sort, either next to or under the basement,” whispered Chot.
This impression was confirmed a moment later when they came to a huge oak door which effectually blocked the passage.