skylight.

To their startled ears came a muffled clang, a queer, hollow sound—and as they turned to run back under the rolled-up door, it slid rapidly down in its grooves, dropping into place with a hollow rumble.

“Good gracious golly!” gasped Dick.

“That’s queer!” Larry was a little puzzled.

Sandy, half frightened, half triumphant, spoke four words:

“I told you so,” he whispered.

CHAPTER II GHOSTS, GUM—AND GEMS

GHOSTS, GUM—AND GEMS

For a long minute Dick, Larry and Sandy stood in a compact group, feeling rather stunned by the sudden springing of the trap, as they considered the closed hangar.

Larry, calm and cool in an emergency, was first to recover.

“Even if Jeff did want to catch us and demand ransom to let us go,” he remarked quietly, “he wasn’t outside that rolling door—and I don’t think he could pull it down anyhow.”

“No,” Dick agreed, seeing no fun in the situation for once. “See! There is a motor connected to a big drum up in the top of the hangar, and the door is counterbalanced so that turning the drum winds up the cable that pulls it up. I suppose the motor reverses to run it down and——”

“What was that?”

Sandy’s voice was tense and strained.

They heard the strange, hollow sound again, seeming to come from the metal wall, but impossible to locate at once because of the echo.

Rap—tap—tap!

“Somebody’s knocking,” Dick gasped.

“Not somebody—something!” corrected Sandy. “The same ‘something’ that worked the door and shut it!”

“Gracious-to-gravy!” exclaimed Larry, “you don’t believe in ghosts, do you, Sandy? Not really!”

 Prev. P 7/147 next