"What did I tell you, Nan Sherwood?" Bess cried. "There is an underground passage down to the boathouse!"
"We'll just see," agreed Nan.
They pushed down the movable part of the partition. It was dark inside, and dank, and there was a musty smell. Once assured that there was nothing supernatural about the black figure they had seen, Bess was as brave as a lion. She ran for a lantern which she knew was in the scullery, lit it, and brought it to Nan, who sat on the door over the mysterious well. By the light of the lantern the chums saw a flight of stone steps cut in the very rock of the bluff on which Lakeview Hall stood leading downward into a seemingly bottomless, walled pit.
"Here's the smugglers' path to the boathouse!" Bess declared eagerly.
"Oh, nonsense!"
"Well, I don't care," cried Bess, pouting, "I bet this is the way the boy went down. And came up, too, to frighten Mrs. Cupp."
"That may be," agreed Nan.
"What did he want to frighten her for?" demanded Bess. "Did you hear what he said about his money? Maybe he's crazy. Oh, my!" and Bess hesitated with her foot on the top step.
"If he is, we two can manage him," said Nan, decidedly. "Come on."
Nan was sure that the strange boy who had helped her out of the water more than a week before, was the figure she and Bess had seen in the boathouse, and who had chased Mrs. Cupp the night of the boathouse party.
Why he was hanging about the school, and was troubling Mrs. Cupp and her sister, Miss Sadie Vane, was explained by the story Susan had told Laura Polk about the boy who had been "Miss Vane's bond-slave." Nan could imagine grim Miss Vane being very severe with boys; nor did Mrs. Cupp love them.
Nan and Bess went down the long flight of subterranean stairs, quite as long, of course, as the outside steps down the face of the bluff. They finally came to an unsuspected cellar under the unused portion of the boathouse. There was a trap in the ceiling of this cellar, and it was open. Bess held the light and Nan reached up, took hold of the edges of the hole, and drew herself up into the room. Then she stooped down and gave her hand to Bess, who quickly came up with the lantern.
"Great!" gasped the eager Bess. "If Mrs. Cupp knew we were doing this, she'd have a sure-enough 'conniption,' as Laura calls it."
"My! I hadn't thought of that," Nan said doubtfully.
"Oh, come on," cried the more reckless Bess.
"Well--we've come, so far, we might as well see it through."
Just then they heard excited voices outside.
"Oh! what's that?" whispered Bess.
"It's Walter's voice!" Nan exclaimed.
"And that squeally one is the ghost's," Bess declared.
The two girls ran to the side door. It, likewise, was unlocked. On the step, Walter Mason held the smaller boy so that he could not get away.
"Hullo, girls!" was Walter's greeting. "Why, Nan! I'm glad to see you out again. But what are you doing down here at the boathouse? And who is this chap I just caught coming out?"
"It's the ghost," cried Bess, giggling.
"I ain't no ghost," protested the boy in black, shivering in the cold.
He wore no overcoat, his shoes were broken, and his hands uncovered.
"The ghost?" repeated Walter, puzzled. "Is he what frightened you girls around here?"
"And Mrs. Cupp! Oh, he frightened her awfully!" cried Bess.
"Well, I don't care! she was mean to me," declared the boy. "And Miss Vane tied my hands and feet to a chair and made me sit up all night in the dark. And now a feller who used to live at the poor farm and who I met when I ran away from Miss Vane told me that some money had been left me by my father's uncle. And Miss Vane and Mrs. Cupp's got it, I don't doubt!"
"Who are you?" asked Nan, softly. "Don't be afraid of us. If we can, we will help you. Bring him inside, Walter. It isn't as cold here as it is out of doors. Do come in."
"I'm Hiram Pease," said the strange boy, plainly glad to tell his tale to anybody who showed sympathy. "Miss Vane took me from the poor farm.
I'm an orphan. She treated me real mean. And I don't like Mrs. Cupp, either. I don't see how you girls stand her."
"I guess she likes girls better than she does boys," said Nan, quietly.
"And now I bet they have got that money from my great uncle, and I want it!" exclaimed Hiram, who seemed to be of a rather vindictive nature, and not a very pleasant person. He was underfed, undersized, and unhealthy looking.
"How have you lived here all this time?" cried Nan, pitying the boy.
"I stole some of that stuff you girls had for your party," replied Hiram Pease, grinning. "And I took other things. I found that flight of steps up into the cellar of the Hall. So I could get to the kitchen at night.
"And then I worked around for some of the folks that live up on the back road; and others gave me things----"
"And I guess you helped yourself to some of my pigeons and squabs," put in Walter, with some disgust. "I found where you roasted them."
"Well! I had to eat somehow," pleaded Hiram, in defense. "And if I ever get my money, I'll pay you back."
"What'll we do with him?" asked Walter, of the girls.
"You take him home and feed him and give him an old overcoat to wear,"
said the practical Nan.
"All right."
"And let him tell your father about his money--if _that's_ true," said Nan, more doubtfully. "Your father is a lawyer. He will know just what to do."
"All right!" cried Walter, again. "I'll do that. Come on, Hiram Beans----"
"Pease."
"All right. Peas or Beans--what's the odds?" said Walter, laughing.
"What Nan says to do is always right."
The boys departed, and then the chums hurried back to the hall by the subterranean passage. Nobody had discovered their absence; but afterward they told Dr. Prescott about their adventure, and the door in the partition between the trunk-room and the well was nailed up.
CHAPTER XXX
A GREAT SURPRISE