William Arden - The Secret Of Phantom Lake

“Perhaps two hours more,” Jupiter said. “Someone will find us soon.”

“No one’s heard us yet,” Cluny said in a low voice.

“They will. Hans must have missed us long ago.”

“But he doesn’t know we’re in this barge. He’ll never look here!”

“In a few minutes we’ll start yelling again. Someone will hear us.”

“Sure, of course they will,” Cluny said doubtfully.

But after a few more minutes, Jupiter didn’t start to shout. Instead, his eyes seemed to stare at something.

“Cluny,” the First Investigator said, “that locker over there. It’s attached to the wall, but maybe we can pry it loose. The wood looks rotten.”

Cluny shook his head. “It’s too low to climb on and reach the hatch, Jupiter.”

“Not to climb on, to float on!” Jupiter said. “If we can get it loose, and it floats, we could hang on to it and float up with the tide!”

They both jumped up and sloshed through the rising water to the locker. It was built into the side of the hold and nailed to the floor. The boys looked about for anything to pry the locker up with.

A heavy tread sounded on the deck above. A slow step, as if wary and careful not to be heard.

“Jupiter!” Cluny cried, “someone’s up?”

“Shhhhh!” Jupiter warned. “No way of knowing who it is, Cluny. We haven’t been yelling for a while. No one could have heard us and come looking.”

Cluny nodded nervously. Both boys held their breath and listened. The heavy tread moved on cautiously across the deck towards the broken boards of the hatch. Then the steps stopped. There was a silence.

“Jupiter?” a deep voice called down. “Cluny?”

It was Hans!

“Hans!” Jupiter yelled. “Down here!”

The boys waded over to stand under the jagged opening in the hatch.

“Get us out of here!” Cluny called up.

“I get you out. Wait,” Hans said from above.

They heard him walk across the deck, and then there was a ripping of wood. Moments later the ladder from the side of the barge was lowered down. Jupe and Cluny scrambled up to the deck.

“Boy,” Cluny said, “are we glad to see you, Hans!”

“I look everywhere for you when you are missing from store,” Hans said solemnly. “You should not go off without me.”

“How did you find us?” Jupiter asked.

“I look through streets, ice cream places, everywhere,” Hans said. “When I go back to chandler shop, a boy is there who tells me he saw you on barge so, I come here.”

“A boy saw us?” Jupiter said, frowning.

“Why didn’t he help us himself, then?” Cluny wondered.

“Yes,” Jupiter said thoughtfully. “Is he still at the shop?”

“No, he has left. He showed me barge, and ran off,” Hans said. “I forgot. Mr. Wright have a message for you. He went to talk to his father, very old man. Old Mr. Wright says no way to tell what Angus Gunn bought in 1872, but there is one way back at Gunn Lodge.”

“What way?” Jupiter asked eagerly.

“Old man say all things sold from store in those days have brass plate on them with name of Wright and Sons,” Hans said. “You must look for brass plate on something.”

“Jupiter,” Cluny urged, “let’s get home and look!”

“And fast,” Jupiter said. “I forgot something, too. Stebbins knows where Pete and Bob went! They may be in danger!”

Christmas tree lights were shining through the windows of the lodge into the early night as Hans parked the truck in the drive. Cluny and Jupiter jumped out and ran inside. Hans followed more slowly, and went to phone Uncle Titus and report. Mrs. Gunn was standing in the living-room. She was alone with a roaring fire against the night chill.

“Mum!” Cluny blurted out as they ran in. “Do we have anything with a brass plate on it marked ‘Wright and Sons’?” He told her what they’d learned in Santa Barbara.

“You couldn’t find out what old Angus bought?” Mrs. Gunn said, knitting her brows. “A brass plate? Well, many of Angus’s old things have brass plates — it was common in those days. But I don’t recall anything labelled ‘Wright and Sons’.”

“Think, Mum, please!” Cluny urged.

Jupiter asked, “Have Bob and Pete come back?”

“Yes. They returned here to tell me about old Angus buying a ton of granite stones from the Ortegas,” Mrs. Gunn said. “But they didn’t know what kind of stone, or what size and shape, so Rory drove them to the old Ortega quarry, and then went off on some errand. But — ”

“They’re not back yet?” Jupiter said, and glanced at the grandfather clock. It was almost seven o’clock.

“No, and neither is Rory,” Mrs. Gunn said. “But — ”

A strange sound came suddenly through the night. From somewhere outside, behind the house, far away. Hans came into the large living-room and stopped to listen with the others.

It was a sound like distant hammering. With a hollow ring, like metal against stone.

“There!” Mrs. Gunn said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to, tell you, boys. I’ve been hearing that sound in the night for over an hour. It frightens me. What could it be?”

“Sounds like someone knocking down a wall,” Hans said.

“A wall? But no one lives that close to us. There’s nothing in that direction except?” Mrs. Gunn stopped.

“Except what, Mum?” Cluny asked. “I don’t know anything out that way.”

“Perhaps you’ve never seen it. There’s an old smokehouse out back. It hasn’t been used since your father was a boy. I’d forgotten all about it.”

“A smokehouse?” Jupiter said. “A stone smokehouse?”

“Why, I suppose it could be stone. It was covered with vines when I first saw it, and I never looked closely.”

“Hans!” Jupiter cried. “Get the lantern from the truck.”

Hans got the electric lantern, and Mrs. Gunn led them back through the brush along an old, overgrown path. The December night was cold for Southern California. The path went on for almost half a mile, finally passing an old wooden cabin.

“A worker’s cabin from Grandfather Gunn’s day,” Mrs. Gunn explained. “That’s why the smokehouse was out here.”

“Did old Angus build the smokehouse, ma’am?” Jupiter asked.

“I’m not sure. I rather thought Grandfather Gunn did — Angus’s son.” She peered into the dark. “It should be just about here.”

The sound of hammering had ceased. Mrs. Gunn led the others off the path into the heavy brush — brush that was all torn and trampled. They pushed through to the smokehouse — and found nothing but a pile of stones!

“Someone’s knocked it down!” Mrs. Gunn said.

“Looking for the treasure!” Cluny exclaimed.

“I suppose we have Stebbins to thank for this,” said Jupiter. “Maybe Java Jim, too. Both of them could have returned from Santa Barbara hours ago. Though how they could have known about this smokehouse…?”

Hans picked up a sledge hammer. “Handle is still warm from hands.”

They listened hard, but there was no sound in the night. Jupiter examined the remains of the smokehouse closely in the light of the lantern.

“The walls were apparently solid stone,” he said slowly. “And from the looks of the firebrick inside, I don’t think anything was hidden inside the firebox. Spiders all over, too.” He looked all around. “No sign of anything dragged off.”

Cluny was pawing among the scattered stones. “Jupe! Here’s a stone with writing on it!”

Hans carried the lantern over. Jupiter brushed dirt away from the stone and read, “C. Gunn, 1883.”

“Grandfather Gunn — His name was Cluny, too,” Mrs. Gunn said.

Jupiter grinned. “Then old Angus didn’t build the smokehouse. The treasure couldn’t have been in it. Let’s go back to the house.”