"Could we go in now, Mr. Jessup, and look around?"
"I guess so," he answered. "But don't stay too late. It gets dark early now, you know. I'll keep on to my cabin."
Eagerly the boys entered the old deserted house, Mr. Jessup letting them take his key. As he had said, they found several rooms fitted up with beds, and a few pieces of furniture. These were the apartments used by those of the hunting parties who could not find bunks in the cabin.
"Now let's begin at the top of the house, and work down," proposed Sammy, when they had looked about the lower floor. "Maybe we can find something of the mystery."
"Maybe—the dog—yes," laughed Bob.
"Oh, you just wait!" exclaimed Sammy. "I'll find something yet."
But it did not seem that he was going to, at first. Room after room was deserted, the once gay wallpaper hanging in mouldy strips. Broken shutters flapped in the wind, and there was ruin on all sides. In some rooms were bits of broken furniture, and in others only heaps of rubbish.
"I shouldn't like to stay here," said Bob, with a little shiver.
"Me, either," added Frank.
They were up in the top story now, and had found nothing.
"Well, I suppose we may as well go down," spoke Sammy, in disappointed tones. "There's nothing here."
"Unless it's in one of those secret rooms you read about," said Bob. "This mansion looks old enough to have one of those."
Sammy did not reply. He was looking at a spot on the wall, and suddenly he put forth his hand and pressed on a carved bit of moulding.
To his surprise, as well as to the surprise of his chums, the wall seemed to slide away. There was a rumbling sound, and a hole came into view.
