THE WINDOWLESS ROOM
"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.
"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. 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 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 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 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."
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:
"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 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 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."