Dig Here!

  IV

  Prisoners

  EVE looked at me and I looked at Eve. "The front windows," I whispered."Maybe----" I raced back down the hall as I spoke, back to the bigfront parlor. The only place from which the outside world was visiblewas the broken front blind I have mentioned. I applied my eyes to thehole. But what I saw only made my heart sink several fathoms deeper: itwas the round-shouldered back of Mr. Bangs already making good progressdown the road. "He's g-gone!" I faltered, my voice ragged.

  Eve didn't answer for a minute. I guessed she was getting hold ofherself. "I disliked that man the moment I set eyes on him," she saidat last.

  "But wh-what," I demanded weakly, "are we going to do?"

  "Get out, of course. There's always some way, a cellar window orsomething."

  "But suppose there isn't? S'pose they're all nailed fast like these?Suppose we have to--to spend the night here!"

  Eve did not seem to have heard me. She was now hurrying back down thehall to the cellar door. I listened with my heart in my throat--if thatwas locked too! Then with a scraping noise, I heard it open.

  I didn't really like the idea of the cellar at all and I liked it evenless as I watched Eve's figure disappear into the cobwebby dimness. ButI had no mind to stand waiting alone in that awful empty house. Sogathering what shreds of courage I possessed, I plunged down after her.It was worse even than I had imagined. The floor was dirt under ourfeet and the dampness which hung about the upstairs seemed intensifieda hundredfold. I was sure it would choke me in a minute.

  But Eve was pushing ahead. I could just make out the outline of twosmudgy windows above what was probably a coal bin. But they were milesabove our heads and looked as if they had not been open for years.

  We made a tour of the rest of the cellar. I was clutching Eve's handnow, half paralyzed with fright, I might as well admit. Once a cobwebbrushed against my face and I screamed. In a particularly dark cornerwhere Eve climbed onto a barrel to examine a nearby window, Idistinctly heard a rat scurry away into the shadows. "Oh, do let's goback!" I cried at last with a shudder. "I'm positive there's no way outdown here."

  Eve was still tugging at the window. "Nailed fast," she announced."This place is sure burglar proof!"

  All the rest of them were the same. Finally we went back upstairs. Evehad a smudge across one cheek. At any other time I would have laughed."Well," she said quite cheerfully, "there are still the upstairs'windows."

  "Eve," I said, "have you thought of this? No one knows we're in thishouse. Not even Mr. Bangs. What I mean is that when they start lookingfor us, they'll never think of looking here!" Already I was imaginingsearching parties and headlines in the newspapers. There would bedescriptions of our appearance: "Eve Fordyce, brown eyes, short wavyhair, when last seen was wearing a blue cotton skirt and white slipoverblouse; Sandra Hutton, green eyes, lightish hair, wearing faded ginghamdress----"

  "Mrs. Trapp or whatever her name is knows we came up here," Eve wassaying. "And Mr. Bangs saw us outside."

  "You can't depend on him for any help," I declared emphatically. "Oh,Eve, do you think they'll broadcast us among the missing persons on theradio?"

  "Of course not! Oh, do cheer up, Sandy. Think what an adventure we'llhave to tell the girls about next fall. Why, it'll go over big.Especially," she added calmly, "if we spend the night here."

  This view of the situation did not serve to cheer me in the slightestdegree. I was not concerned with the dim and distant fall but with whatwas going to happen to us right now. The thought of the night comingon, of the darkness catching us there in that big echoing house alreadysent shivers running up and down my spine. "Oh, dear, why did we evercome in at all?" I wailed. "It serves me right for being so snoopy."

  "It was more my fault than yours," Eve declared consolingly. "At leastit was my fault that we stayed so long. Now I'm going to take a lookround upstairs. Very likely they weren't so particular about fasteningthose windows."

  But even if we did find one unfastened, how were we going to get downto the ground? As I remembered the spacious lines on which the housewas built, I felt that escape that way was hopeless from the outset.Still there was nothing else to do so I again followed Eve, this timeup the broad curving stairway.

  We found ourselves in a square hall from the rear end of which ran anarrow passage. At our right was a large bedroom, containing a bigdouble bed, minus mattress or coverings. Instead of springs, there werewooden slats. "Fancy sleeping on those!" said Eve.

  "We may come to it!" I returned miserably.

  The blinds were closed as they had been below, and the two windows inthe bedroom were nailed fast. The windows in the other rooms--therewere five in all--were the same. Whoever had been assigned the task ofclosing up the old Craven House had made a thorough job of it.

  We returned finally to the large front room. I slumped down on a woodenrocker by the window. My legs felt extraordinarily weak and if I hadbeen fasting for a week, I could not have been hungrier. I was amazedto see by my wrist watch that it was only a little after two. I hadthought it hours later.

  Eve had gone back to the window. I watched her dismally as she fussedwith the fastening. "I'm going to look for a hammer," she announcedpresently.

  "Hammer?" I repeated dully as if I were unfamiliar with the implement.

  She nodded. "You've noticed of course the difference between thesewindows and the ones downstairs?"

  "I noticed that they're all nailed down--isn't that enough?"

  "Yes, but the ones below are nailed from the outside but these are donefrom within. Consequently the nails are all in plain sight."

  "You mean----" I jumped up. She was right. "How clever of you to noticethat," I exclaimed. "But do you think we can ever get 'em out--theylook awfully deep in and they're rusty besides?"

  "I'm going to try anyway," she returned. "Let's go downstairs and takea look for some tools."

  For the first time since I had heard that back door close, I felt afaint glimmer of hope. In a little room off the kitchen filled with allmanner of household odds and ends, we found a tool box and in it ahammer, brown and rusty with disuse, but still a hammer.

  Well, it was exactly a quarter of three when Eve set to work on thosenails. It was five minutes past before the first one even budged. Andit was nearly four before we got the second one out. Then followed along struggle with the window itself. "I'll bet those old Cravens neverdid have any fresh air," I panted. "No wonder they're all dead--" I waspounding the sash with my fist in an effort to loosen it.

  "How d'you know they're all dead? Here, let me have another try." Evepushed me aside.

  At last with a groan of protest, it moved--an inch, two. I reachedthrough and unfastened the blinds and the sweet warm air rushed in. My,how good it smelled!

  The window opened onto the gently sloping tin roof of a narrow sideporch. After we had succeeded in raising it far enough, we climbedthrough. It was not at all clear to either of us what we were going todo next. But anything, we felt, was better than staying cooped up inthat house any longer.

  Making our way cautiously to the edge of the roof, we saw that it was,as I had anticipated, a goodish drop to the ground. Moreover, therewere no adjacent tree branches or any of those convenient trellisesthat are always so handy in the story books.

  We sat down with our feet braced against the gutter to consider thesituation. "Marooned on a tin roof!" giggled Eve. The spirits of bothof us had risen enormously with our escape from the house. Some one wasbound to pass along the road sooner or later, we decided. And thoughthe house stood a considerable distance back from it, still our lungpower was good.

  The road to Old Beecham, however, was off the main artery of travel andso far as we could see from our perch, there was simply no sign of lifeanywhere. "I can't think," I said, "why anyone should want to build ahouse way off here, unless he was a hermit or something. I tell you,Eve," I added with conviction, "those Cravens were a queer lot!
"

  "Oh, I don't know," Eve returned musingly. "It's awfully peaceful andsort of--well, self sufficient. And I shouldn't wonder if, when theleaves are off the trees, you could get a glimpse of the sea off theresomewhere."

  "Um--maybe." I was wondering what Aunt Cal was thinking by now. Anyremaining shred of character which I might have still possessed in hereyes, must quite have vanished by this time. And if we did not get homethat night--well with a woman like Aunt Cal, I just couldn't imaginewhat would happen. It was within the realm of possibility that shemight send us both packing after such an escapade!

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------