charred heap to another. He peered down at them. Some he studied on hands and knees.
"What's this?" The clergyman tested with his foot a part of the bare flagging which seemed to give slightly. Then he jumped on it with his full weight.
"Look out, Reverend!"
Kerns shouted the warning, and flung forward, with something like a football tackle. He was too late. One of the bare flagstones turned under Daunt's weight. He shot downward through it, as if through a gallows trap.
Kerns could not save him. But Kerns could follow. Before the tilting stone had time to snap shut again, he was through. He landed beside his friend. Above them came the crash of the stone swinging back to its position; then darkness.
Daunt had lighted on hands and feet. He straightened up, unhurt.
"A fool's trick!" he said, calmly. "At my age one should show better judgment. Have you your flashlight, Kerns?"
"No," said Kerns, shortly.
"Then possibly we had better shout."
"You're darned right we’d better," the Chief of Police agreed. "Don't be afraid of busting your lungs. Now!"
It was a worthy effort, but Kerns was not satisfied.
"Put your back into it this time, Reverend," he urged, "I don't like this place. I want out!"
"No use," Daunt commented, as they stopped for breath.
"Guess you're right. They wouldn't hear us in a year. We couldn't pick a worse place to yodel from. Why in hell did I forget my flash? Now we'll have to wait till somebody gets to wondering about us, and starts to look. And I told 'em we didn't want to be disturbed!"
Daunt blinked into the darkness, "See any light, Kerns?"
"Not a ray."
"Suppose you walk in various directions. See what you can discover about this place. I'll remain here."
Kerns was a man of action. With the mere prospect of something to do, his spirits rose at once. His voice came promptly out of the darkness.
"Here's a wall,” he announced. "Maybe we're in a room of some kind. Keep facing the same way, Reverend. I"m on your left now."
"Correct," Daunt agreed.
"I'm feeling my way along the wall. It's getting wet. I'm splashing!"
"You are directly behind me."
"Right! That gives me my bearings. This water isn't deep. Here's a corner. Wait a minute." His footsteps splashed slowly and cautiously, "It's a tunnel," he went on, excitedly. "Must be about four feet across. I've spanned it with my arms. I'll keep going, and see whether any other tunnels open up."
Shortly his voice came from Daunt's right; then from in front; then from the left again.
"We're in a room, all right, Reverend—a round room. Not very big. Has a tunnel opening off it. I'll start down the tunnel. If the water gets too deep, I'll turn back."
"We'll go together," Daunt said, decidedly. "You can lead me. Then if you slip into a hole"
"O. K. Let's go."
Daunt slipped his small, plump hand into the chief's bear-like grip.
"Easy, now, Reverend."
Their feet splashed. The water was ankle-deep. There was slippery mud beneath. Kerns slid twice, and recovered himself with earnest profanity. Daunt seemed surer-footed.
Suddenly, Kerns stopped short, with a sharp catch of the breath.
Daunt sensed it at the same moment.
