As if in mockery of his words and his quest, a muffled knocking that seemed to come from the ceiling of the very room he stood in answered his despair.
“What’s that?” gasped Dale.
They listened. The knocking was repeated—knock—knock—knock—knock.
“Someone else is looking for the Hidden Room!” muttered Brooks, gazing up at the ceiling intently, as if he could tear from it the secret of this new mystery by sheer strength of will.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE GLEAMING EYE
“It’s upstairs!” Dale took a step toward the alcove stairs. Brooks halted her.
“Who’s in this house besides ourselves?” he queried.
“Only the detective, Aunt Cornelia, Lizzie, and Billy.”
“Billy’s the Jap?”
“Yes.”