  When Dennings whistled into the blackness of Clanhammer Hall there was a moment’s pause before there was any answer. At last a faint light showed against the walls of the upper hall, and this gleam was soon followed by an old man with a candle. He peered down at them over the banisters, and after having satisfied himself that all was well and the parties known to him, he descended slowly, picking his steps with care. From Terry’s and Vench’s descriptions of the old man seen in Clanhammer Hall Don was sure that it was the same man. He flashed his light upon them and then, without speaking, looked stolidly at Dennings. The leader pushed Don forward. “Put this boy away for safekeeping,” directed the leader. “Is everything all right with the other?” The old man nodded. Turning around he led the way up the stairs, Don just back of him and the two men following. When they reached the broad hall on the second floor the old man halted beside a heavy door and drew a key from his pocket. He inserted it in the lock and opened the door, holding the candle above his head. He turned his dull eyes upon the cadet and motioned toward the room with his head. “That room is all right, is it?” questioned Dennings. “This boy is a slippery lad, Elmo.” “He won’t get out of there,” said the old man. “All right,” nodded Dennings. “Get in there, son, and if you’re wise, keep quiet. It won’t do you any good to make a noise, but it might be annoying, and if it gets too much so you’re likely to receive a gentle tap on the head to keep you quiet.” Realizing that all talk would be a waste of time Don walked into the small room and the door was slammed after him. He heard the key turned and then found himself in total darkness. The footsteps of the men receded down the hall and a heavy silence closed around him. When he was sure that they had all gone he felt his way around the room but it was empty. Blank walls met his groping fingers and there was not even a chair anywhere in the place. He gave up trying to find his way out. “Might as well wait until daybreak,” he decided. “There may be some light in here then, although I don’t know where it will come from. Lucky thing for me it isn’t very cold in here.” Although there couldn’t be a fire in Clanhammer Hall, the building seemed warm, and Don was in no danger of being cold. He was hungry and sleepy, and realizing that a good sleep would fit him for the problem of the morrow he took off his hat and rolled his overcoat more closely around him. The floor made a hard bed but he was not in a mood to complain about that. “I can’t understand their game,” he reflected, just before he fell asleep. “Here they have me right under the noses of my friends and yet there isn’t a chance of my rescue unless the boys carry out their plan and break in the place. That isn’t likely now that they have discovered my absence. Of all the high-handed games, this beats ’em all.” Don had no trouble sleeping. The events of the day had worn him out, and he slept soundly. It was daylight when he awoke, and his first sensation upon awakening was that of hunger. A faint light entered the room from a very high and dirty skylight, and Don saw at once that there was no use in looking in that direction for a possible outlet. The skylight was too high for him to reach and there was nothing to stand on. His impressions of the previous night were confirmed, the room was empty and had no windows. It had evidently been a small classroom at one time, for two sides of the wall were composed of blackboards. But Don was not discouraged by the outlook. He stooped down and examined the board walls under the blackboards. Clanhammer Hall was a very old building and the passing of the years had not improved it any. He noted with interest that the walls close to the floor were made of light wood and that the wood was dry and warped. It was with a thrill of hope that he took his pocket knife out and without wasting a moment of time, began a determined attack on the thin boards. He was far luckier than he had dared to hope. The boarding had originally been secured with light nails which had almost no heads at all, and it was a simple job to spring them out and away from the supporting beams, which ran vertically. In less than a half hour the cadet had a dozen boards torn out of the wall, and an opening large enough to admit his body had been made. There were still the boards on the other side of the beams to be reckoned with, but Don found that he had no trouble with them. By pushing he forced them out into the adjoining room, taking care not to make much noise, and before long he had opened a regular tunnel for himself. Picking up his hat he forced his body through and stepped out into a larger classroom, for the moment at least, free. He listened intently, but there was no sound in the building and he made his way into the hall. He was undecided as to whether to try to sneak down and gain his liberty or to make a dash for it. Perhaps Dennings was still in the place, and if so he stood in grave danger. He had no fear of overcoming the old man if need be, but he was sure that Dennings would not leave the old man alone, and Don was not disposed to run any risks. He decided to steal quietly out of the place and make his way on tiptoe to the head of the stairs. No sooner had he poked his head over the railing than he drew back in swift alarm. The old man was in the lower hall, seated at an old desk, deeply engrossed in a newspaper spread out before him. It was useless to think of getting out that way, and Don was sure that there were no other stairs in the building. Although it looked as though there was no one with the old man he felt that such was not the case, and he was puzzled as to what course to pursue now. It came to him that perhaps he could drop out of some window onto a roof or even into the snow, and so get a running start. Perhaps there was some rain pipe that he could climb down and reach the ground without injury. The windows in the hall were pretty high, he noted, and would be hard to raise without making some kind of a noise. There was nothing left to do but to try it and trust to luck. He made his way to the windows and looked out of them. They were all high above the ground and it was useless to risk a bad fall that way. Moving by inches he went down the back part of the hall, in hopes of finding something more promising there, but he was disappointed. The windows were all so high above the ground that a drop would almost certainly injure him. He was now in a state of anxious perplexity. It would be possible to hide somewhere and wait for a more opportune moment, but he hated to lose time and it was a risk in itself. No doubt the old man knew every nook and corner in Clanhammer Hall, and his hiding place, wherever he might find one, would not serve him at all. It was while he was puzzling over his problem that he thought of the third floor and a possible escape along the roof. There must be a third floor of some sort in the building and he turned his attention to finding stairs. After a time he located a door in the rear of the hall and when he had opened it a flight of abrupt steps was disclosed to him. He listened for a moment before ascending, not wishing to walk straight into someone on the third floor, but there was no sound from above, and after closing the door carefully behind him he began to climb, listening intently. He gained the top of the boxed-in flight and looked around him. He was in a general hall which ran the length of the building and from which doors opened on either side. It occurred to him that when Clanhammer Hall was the main and only building of Woodcrest School some of the students boarded at the school and some of them down in the town. The first floor must of necessity have been given over to the dining room, kitchen and offices, the second floor to the classrooms and this third floor to the few dormitory rooms which the old school boasted. There were at least twenty small rooms opening off the hall in which he stood, and it was in these rooms that the few fortunate students lived. No doubt the seniors or third class men slept there and the lower class men were compelled to put up at friendly boardinghouses near by. The doors were warped and initial-scarred, and faint yellow numbers still showed on them. At each end of the hall two windows allowed light to enter, and they were the only openings with the exception of a rusted skylight directly overhead. He walked to the windows facing the new buildings of the school and looked out, to find that no shed or roof was underneath. Nothing but a sheer drop was before him, and help from that source was out of the question. There was a new possibility which entered his head as he looked out on Clinton Hall and a corner of Locke. If the worst came to pass he would try to signal to some of the cadets, none of whom seemed to be around at the present moment. Glancing at his watch Don saw that it was yet too early for them to be stirring, and no signals were likely to be seen for some time. He then made his way to the windows at the opposite end, stopping at the stairs to listen, but no sound broke the stillness and he went on. Those two windows overlooked a portion of the lake and the gate at the end of the school grounds and the deserted edges of the woods. There would be no help in that direction, either. “Looks like I’d have to set the place on fire to get out,” he grumbled. “Now I’ll look into some of these old dormitories.” He began to try the knobs on the doors but to his disappointment every door was tightly locked. This puzzled him. All of the rooms on the second floor were unlocked and open, but these rooms had been carefully closed up. He felt sure that there was nothing in them, and why anyone should be particular enough to lock them he could not see. He had tried them all and in haste, so that one feature of a certain room escaped his attention. In the center of the hall was one room which, judging by the distance between doors, was larger than others, and this door, he subsequently discovered, was locked with a special lock on the outside. The other and smaller rooms had been locked with a key in the ordinary manner, but the large dormitory room had been fitted with a padlock on the outside and was locked in that manner. He stopped and looked through the keyhole, but his vision was limited to a blank wall on the other side of the room. Then he sniffed, his attention growing as he did so. After a time he realized someone in that room was smoking tobacco. He could smell it plainly. His first impulse was to flee and then he stopped to consider, his gaze fixed on the lock. Whoever was in that room was a prisoner. It was plain that the padlock was meant for business. He tried it, pulling at it with all his strength, but it was tightly locked and his efforts were useless. Bending down, he once more examined it, and then, satisfied that he could remove it with his knife, began to work at it. There was a sudden movement in the room as he started to work, but Don paid no attention, and as no one spoke he did not waste his time in speech. The lock itself was screwed into the door, and the screws were so placed that his knife blade, blunted by much use, formed a screw driver that was effective. He did not have any unusual difficulty and the screws came out readily enough under his urging. With patience and speed he extracted four of the screws and the lock hung open, the portion on the post being freed. Hoping that the lock under the knob had not also been turned Don tried the door handle. To his relief it turned and the door opened. Pushing it open wide before him Don stepped into the large dormitory. |
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