“I have no plan,” said Jack, “except this: We have freed ourselves of our bonds, and we ought to make an effort to escape. And, if we can make our escape,” he added, determinedly, “I, for one, am anxious to try to turn the tables.”

“Turn the tables, Jack?” exclaimed Frank. “What do you mean? How could we do that?”

“If we could capture the smugglers’ radio plant,” Jack suggested, “and call help, we could catch these fellows in the act. Of course, I know, there is only a slim chance that we could get immediate aid in this isolated spot. But I’ve been thinking of that possibility. Do you suppose any boats of the ‘Dry Navy’ about which you spoke are in the vicinity, Captain Folsom?”

In the darkness, the latter could be heard to stir and move closer. All five, as a matter of fact, had drawn together and spoke in whispers that were barely audible. 105

“That is a bully idea, Hampton,” said Captain Folsom, with quickened interest. “Yes, I am certain one or more of Lieutenant Summers’s fleet of sub chasers is along this stretch of coast. From Montauk Point to Great South Bay, he told me recently, he intended to set a watch at sea for smugglers.”

“Very good,” said Jack. “Then, if we can gain possession of the smugglers’ radio plant and call help, we may be able to catch these fellows and make a big haul. For, I presume, they must be bringing a big shipment of liquor ashore now. And, as the night is far advanced, doubtless they will keep it here until, say, to-morrow night, when they would plan to send it to the city in trucks. Don’t you fellows imagine that is about what their plan of procedure would be?”

All signified approval in some fashion or other.

“Our first step, of course,” said Captain Folsom, “must be to gain our freedom from the house. Are any of you familiar with the interior? Also, has anybody got any matches? My service pistol has been taken, and I presume you fellows also have been searched and deprived of your weapons?”

General affirmation followed.

“But about matches? Will you please search your pockets, everybody?”

The boys never carried matches, being nonsmokers. 106 Tom Barnum, however, not only produced a paper packet of matches but, what was far more valuable at the moment, a flashlight of flat, peculiar shape which he carried in a vest pocket and which his captors had overlooked in their hurried search. He flashed it once, and discovered it was in good working order.

“So far, so good,” said Captain Folsom. “Now to discover the extent of our injuries, before we proceed any further. Mine aren’t enough to keep me out of any fighting. How about the rest of you?”

“Frank’s been binding up my head with the tail of my shirt,” said Bob. “But I guess he could do a better job if he received a flash from that light of yours, Tom. Just throw it over here on my head, will you?”

Tom complied, and it was seen Bob had received a nasty wound which had laid the scalp open on the left side three or four inches. The cut had bled profusely. With the light to work by, Frank, who like his companions was proficient in first aid treatment of injuries, shredded a piece of the white shirting for lint, made a compress, and then bound the whole thing tightly. Jack’s blow was not so serious, but Frank bound his head, too.

None of the boys nor Tom Barnum ever had been inside the Brownell house before, although all were 107 more or less familiar with its outer appearance. Tom now made a careless survey of the room by the aid of his flashlight. He would flash it on for only a moment, as he moved about soundlessly, having removed his shoes, and he so hid the rays under his coat that very little light showed. This he did in order to prevent as much as possible any rays falling through cracks in the walls or floor, and betraying their activity.

The room, Tom found on completing his survey, was without windows and possessed of only one door, a massive oaken affair with great strap iron hinges and set in a ponderous frame. From the slope of the ceiling at the sides, he judged the room was under the roof. Walls and ceiling were plastered.

Not a sound had penetrated into the room from the outside, or from the other parts of the house, and at this all had marveled earlier. Tom’s report of the survey supplied an answer to the mystery. There was little chance for sound to penetrate within.

“But a room without windows?” said Jack. “How, then, does it happen the air is fresh?”

“There’s a draught from up above,” answered Tom. “I cain’t see any skylight, but there may be an air port back in the angle of the roof tree. Say, Mister Jack, this room gives me the creeps,” he 108 added, his voice involuntarily taking on an awed tone. “A room without windows. An’ over in the far corner I found some rusted iron rings fastened to big staples set deep into a post in the wall.”

“What, Tom? You don’t say.”

“Yes, siree. Ol’ Brownell, the pirate whaler’s, been dead for a long time. But there’s queer stories still around these parts about him an’ his house; stories not only ’bout how he was killed finally by the men as he’d cheated, but also ’bout a mysterious figure in white that used to be seen on the roof, an’ yells heard comin’ from here. You know what?” He leaned closer, and still further lowered his voice. “I’ll bet this room was a cell fer some crazy body an’ ol’ Brownell kept him or her chained up when violent. Some people still say, you know, as how that white figure wa’n’t a ghost but the ol’ man’s crazy wife.”

“Brrr.”

Frank shivered in mock terror and grinned in the darkness. “Some place to be,” he added.

Nevertheless, light though he made of Tom’s story, the hour, the circumstances in which they found themselves, the mystery of the windowless room, all combined to inspire in him an uncanny feeling, as if unseen hands were reaching for him from the dark.

“Getting out is still our first consideration,” Captain Folsom said. “What Barnum reports makes it 109 look difficult, but let’s see. Have you tried the door? Is it locked?”

“Tried it?” said Tom. “Ain’t possible. There ain’t neither handle nor knob inside, to pull on. No lock nor keyhole in it, neither. Must be barred on the outside. That’s another reason for thinkin’ it was built for a prison cell.”

“And if the old pirate kept a crazy woman in here when she was violent,” supplied Jack, “you can bet he built the walls thick to smother her yells. That’s why we hear no sounds.”

There was silence for a time. Each was busy with his own thoughts. The prospect, indeed, looked dark. How could they escape from a cell such as this?

Jack was first to break the silence.

“Look here,” said he, “fresh air is admitted into this room in some fashion, and, probably, as Tom surmised, through an air port in the ceiling. It may be the old pirate even built a trap door in the roof. Obviously, anyhow, our best and, in fact, our only chance to escape lies through the roof. It may be possible to break through there, whereas we couldn’t get through walls or the door. Let’s investigate.”

Eager whispers approved the proposal.

“Come on, Tom,” Jack continued, “we’ll investigate that angle in the roof tree. You brace yourself against the wall, and I’ll stand on your shoulders.” 110

The two moved away with the others close behind them. Jack mounted on Tom Barnum’s shoulders. He found the ceiling sloped up to a lofty peak. Running his hands up each slope, he could discern no irregularity. But, suddenly, nearing the top, where the sides drew together, he felt a strong draught of air on his hands.

Their positions at the time were this: Tom was leaning against the end wall, with Jack on his shoulders, and facing the wall. The ceiling sloped upward on each side and it was up these slopes Jack had been running his hands. Tall as he was, and standing upright, his head still was some feet from the roof tree above, where the sloping sidewalls joined.

When he felt the inrush of air on his hands, which were then above his head, Jack reached forward. He encountered no wall at all. But, about a foot above his head, instead, his fingers encountered the edge of an opening in the end wall and under the roof tree. Trembling with excitement, he felt along the edge from side wall to side wall, and found the opening was more than two feet across.

Not a word had been said, meanwhile, not a whisper uttered. Now, leaning down, and in a voice barely audible, Jack whispered to the anxious group at his feet: 111

“Fellows, there’s an opening up here under the roof tree. I can’t tell yet what it is, but if you hand me up Tom’s flashlight I’ll have a look at it.”

Frank passed the little electric torch upward, flashing it once to aid Jack in locating it in the darkness. Again Jack straightened up carefully. Holding the flat little flashlight between his teeth, he gripped the edge of the opening and chinned himself. Then, holding on with one hand, with the other he manipulated the flashlight.

One glance was sufficient. It revealed a tunnel-like passage under the roof tree. This passage was triangular in shape, with the beam of the roof tree at the peak, the sloping, unplastered sides of the roof and a flat, solid floor. It extended some distance forward, apparently, for the rays of the flashlight did not reveal any wall across it. The floor was solidly planked, probably a yard wide, instead of two feet-plus of Jack’s original estimate, and the height from floor to roof tree was all of two and a half feet.

Laying down the flashlight, Jack drew himself over the edge of the opening. Then, moving cautiously forward in the darkness, not daring to throw the light ahead of him for fear of betraying his presence, he crawled on hands and knees. The draught of air through the passageway was strong, and he had not proceeded far before he saw ahead 112 faint bars across the passage, not of light but of lesser darkness.

He decided there was some opening at the end of the passage, but could not imagine what it might be. When he came up to it, however, the solution was simple. Immediately under the peak of the roof tree, in a side wall, was an opening in which was set a slatted shutter. This admitted air, yet kept rain from beating in.

And in a flash, Jack realized to what ingenious lengths the original owner of the house had gone in order to provide for his prisoner a cell that would be virtually soundproof, yet have a supply of fresh air. So high, too, was the opening of the passage in the cell that one person could not reach it unaided.

Jubilant at his discovery and with a plan for putting it to use as a means of escape, Jack, unable to turn about in the narrow passage, worked his way backward until the projection of his feet into emptiness warned him he had reached the room. Then he let himself down and, when once more with his companions, explained the nature of his discovery.

“We can lift that shutter out,” he added, “and swing upward to the roof tree. There is a cupola, an old-fashioned cupola, on this house, as I remember it. Once we are on the roof, we can work our way to that cupola and probably find a trapdoor leading down 113 into the house. If we decide that is too dangerous, we may be able to slide down the gutters. Anyhow, once we are in the outer air and on the roof, we’ll be in a better position than here. Come on. I’ll go up first, and then help Captain Folsom up. Do the rest of you follow, and, as Frank is the lightest, he ought to come last. The last man will have to be pulled up with our belts, as he will have nobody to stand on.”