CHAPTER II.

IMPRISONED IN A CHIMNEY.

Frank found that there was nothing whatever in his room to demand his

attention, and so, after he had unpacked his grips and put away their

contents, he went down High Street to call on Page.

The house in which Page had taken a room was made of stone. Its walls

were very thick, the ceilings low, and everything about it made it seem

like a relic of the last century.

This is indeed what it was. In former days it had been the residence of

one of the wealthiest men in New Haven, but that was long ago; for years

it had been used wholly as a lodging house.

Page's room was on the second floor. It was very large and cheerful.

Three windows looked out on the street and in each of them was a broad

seat provided with heavy cushions.

On the opposite side of the room there were two old-fashioned benches

built against the wall. Between the ends of these benches and right in

the middle of that side of the room was one of the ancient chimneys of

the house.

It came out three or four feet into the room and gave the place an

antique and interesting appearance. Page had hung a lot of ornaments in

the way of fencing foils, boxing gloves, baseball bats, and other

materials used by students, upon this chimney.

After Frank had taken a general look around the room he said:

"It's a nice old den, Page, and I think the chimney there is the best

part of it. What a pity that there isn't a fireplace. There ought to be,

and it strikes me that there was at one time."

Saying this, he knelt down before the chimney and examined the stones of

which it was made. These had been painted white. Frank thought he could

see a line that indicated what had once been an opening. Page watched

him in silence.

"There certainly was a fireplace here at one time," said Frank, rising,

"and if I were in your place I'd have the stones cut away so that you

can use it again. An open wood fire there would look immense in winter."

"That's a good scheme, Frank," responded Page, "and it was that chimney

that led me to speak of the room. I didn't know it when I hired the

place, but since I've got in I've discovered that--well, I'll show you."

With this he stooped over by the chimney, put his hand upon what

appeared to be a little projection from one of the stones, turned it,

and opened a door.

Within the door there was revealed an old-fashioned fireplace, deep and

high. All it needed was andirons and poker to make it complete.

"Well, that's funny!" exclaimed Frank.

"Isn't it?" returned Page. "I got on to the thing wholly by accident.

When I was hanging up some of the things there I stumbled and caught

hold of that little projection for support.

"The thing turned in my hand, and the first thing I knew the door was

open. It opened a little hard, showing that the thing hadn't been used

for a long time."

"Didn't the owner of the house speak of it?"

"I don't think he knows anything about it."

"Have you told him?"

"Not much!"

"Why not?"

"Well, because it just struck me that such a place as this was a kind of

a secret worth keeping. You can see for yourself that it was the evident

intention of the person who set up this door that it should be a secret.

The hinges are perfectly concealed, and it has been fitted in and the

edges painted in such a way that only the closest inspection would give

a fellow a suspicion that there was any opening there."

At this moment there was a knock, and Browning came in.

"I thought you were coming next week?" exclaimed Page.

"Well, I found I'd nothing better to do than run down here. What's that

you're looking at?"

The boys explained the matter to him, and in his slow way he admitted

that if they were sophomores it would be quite possible to utilize this

secret door in the course of hazing freshmen.

"As we're not in the hazing business now," he said, "I can't see any use

for the place, Page, except for you to hide in when your creditors

call."

"Huh!" retorted Page, "it's my habit to keep my bills paid."

"It'll make you unpopular if the fellows know that."

"I was telling Page," said Merriwell, "that if I had the room I'd take

down that door entirely, get some andirons and burn a log of wood on a

winter evening."

"That's a good scheme," returned Browning, "but if I should do anything

of that kind I should never get a stroke of work done here; this room

was never meant to study in, but it's an ideal loafing place."

With this he threw himself upon one of the window seats and looked out.

The others took places on the other windows and for a few minutes their

conversation turned upon college topics.

Then Browning, who was a little restless, as most students are

immediately after a vacation, said he would have to be going. Page urged

him to wait, but he shook his head.

"By the way," he said, with his hand upon the door, "I've got some

news."

"Well?" said both the others together.

"I regret to say it isn't pleasant news, but it may be important to you

two; it certainly is to me."

"Spring it!" exclaimed Page.

"Cut the preface!" said Merriwell.

"Babbitt has announced an examination for juniors in mathematics."

"What!"

Merriwell and Page were so surprised that they sat down suddenly.

Browning remained standing by the door.

"It's a fact," he said.

"But what can that mean?" asked Merriwell. "We had our regular

examination last spring."

"I know we did, but Babbitt's going to have another just the same."

"Where did you learn it?"

"On the bulletin board, of course. The notice was put up not more than

an hour ago."

"When is it to be?"

"Three days from now."

Page looked blankly at Merriwell.

"I never was any good at mathematics," he said, "and after a summer

without a thought of it I don't believe I could do an ordinary sum in

multiplication."

"Well," responded Frank, doubtfully, "it can't be that the examination

will have any serious consequences for us fellows if we passed last

spring."

"There's no telling how serious Babbitt may make it," said Browning.

"The notice on the bulletin board, of course, doesn't give any

explanation, but I met Frost, the fellow who graduated a couple of years

ago, you know, with high honors in mathematics, and who was made

instructor in one of the lower departments of that course.

"I knew Frost quite well when he was a student, so I asked him if he

knew anything about this."

"What did he say?"

"He smiled a little queerly and answered that Professor Babbitt had his

own ideas."

"In other words, Frost wouldn't tell?"

"Oh, no, that's not it; Frost is a member of the faculty now, you see,

and of course he has to speak very respectfully of the older men.

"I got a very distinct idea that Frost regarded Babbitt's examination as

all nonsense, but he did explain to me what Babbitt's idea about it is."

"That's what we want to know."

"It's just this way," said Browning, sitting down. "It seems our class

is enlarged by the addition of quite a number of men who have graduated

from or studied at other colleges.

"They have applied for admission into the junior class, and there's got

to be an examination for them, of course; in fact, the examination for

such candidates is going on now."

"That's quite a usual thing," remarked Merriwell.

"Yes, certainly, but Babbitt has declared that the examination of last

spring was very unsatisfactory. He says men can't go ahead in

mathematics unless what they have done before is thoroughly learned, and

he proposes to find out just what sort of talent there is in our class

before he begins a year's work."

"He'll find out what I can't do!" groaned Page.

"Probably he knows that already," said Merriwell.

"That's the substance of it, anyway," added Browning. "Babbitt's idea is

to strike an average as to what the class can do and proceed from that."

"Then I shouldn't think," said Merriwell, "that the examination should

have any terrors for us."

"You'd think," exclaimed Page, "that Merriwell looked at an examination

as he would a plunge in the surf, just a little dip for the fun of it,

and it's all over. It won't be so with me."

"Don't worry," responded Frank, "you've got three days in which to

cram."

"And that's just what I'll do, I'm thinking."

Page dropped his chin upon his hands and looked gloomily at the floor.

"I'm sorry to give you unpleasant news," said Browning, rising, "but I

told you I thought it was important. So long."

With this he went out.

"Oh, well," said Page, after a moment, "I'm not going to be knocked out

by that! I'll just go into the examination and do as well as I can and

take chances; that's what the rest of us have got to do."

"That's the best way to look at it," Frank answered, "and I don't think

I shall bother my head with cramming for it.

"If I were you, Page, I'd go down to some of those second-hand stores on

the street and see if you can't pick up a pair of old-fashioned

andirons. You don't want to get new ones, you know, for a place like

this, they wouldn't seem appropriate."

"That's so," Page answered, with a queer smile, "I believe I'll adopt

your suggestion at once. How would you place them?"

"Why, just as they are placed in every other fireplace," Frank answered,

"one on each side; that is, if the old chimney will draw."

"Perhaps it won't," said Page.

"I hadn't thought of that," continued Frank. "It may be that the place

was closed up because the chimney was defective. Let's see if we can

find out."

So saying, he knelt and entered the fireplace. Once inside it was easy

to stand upright, for the chimney was broad, and as he looked up he

could see that it ran with a slight incline clear to the roof.

"There's nothing to prevent a fire from being built here," he said, with

his eyes turned upward. "Such a chimney as this would draw like a

furnace."

Page made no response.

"I declare," Merriwell added, "it makes me wish that winter had come so

that I could see a roaring old blaze of logs here. Doesn't that strike

you about right?"

As Page made no response, he turned to look at his classmate, and then

discovered that the secret door to the fireplace had been closed.

With his eyes turned upward and seeing the little patch of light at the

top of the chimney he had not noticed that the light from the room had

been shut off.

"Hello, there!" he called, feeling along the wall to find the door. "I'm

no freshman."

There was no sound from Page's room. Frank found a match in his pocket

and struck it. From inside it was easy enough to distinguish the

outlines of the secret door that concealed the fireplace.

It was not possible, however, to discover any way by which it might be

opened. The latch was the kind used on doors, but strong, and with no

knob on the inside.

Frank pushed against the door with some force. It did not yield in the

least degree.

"Seems to me," he thought, "that Page has a queer idea of fun to lock me

in like this. I've a good mind to kick the door down."

He thought a moment before deciding to do this, and reflected that it

would hardly be a good-natured way of treating the joke.

If Page meant to have some fun with him by making him a prisoner, the

joke would be all the more successful if Merriwell should get mad about

it and break open the secret door.

"I think," thought Frank, "that I'll get even with Page for this in a

way that will surprise him."

His match went out just then and he began to feel in the darkness of the

stones that made the chimney. They were untrimmed stones, so that the

interior surface was very irregular.

Just above his hand, but within reach, was an iron bar crossing the

chimney; it was put there to bind the walls.

Frank drew himself upon this and then, being in the narrow part of the

chimney, was able to work his way upward by clinging with hands and feet

to the rough edges of the stones.

It was slow progress, but not difficult, and sure. The only question

would be whether the opening at the top of the chimney would be large

enough to permit of his crawling through.

He had got about halfway up when he halted in his journey. He had heard

voices, and he recognized both of them.

He knew that he was on the level of the room above Page's, and he

realized that the sounds of talking came to him distinctly because there

was a fireplace there that connected with this same chimney.

The voices he heard were those of Prof. Babbitt and Instructor Frost.

"The fact is, Frost," Babbitt was saying, "I'm aiming this examination

at certain men in the class, and I've no hesitation in saying so.

There's that fellow, Merriwell, for example; I'd like to force him to do

more studying."

Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale · 第 2 / 50 章