they moved from the woods through the meadow and then the property’s
lawn, they scanned for anyone out walking the grounds. Seeing no one, they
walked past the gazebo and down three cement stairs to a large metal door that
was painted light blue. They waited in the stairwell for Pete to open the door,
but he didn’t come.
“It’s five after,” Steven said,
“do you think something happened to him?”
“He’ll be here,” Roy said, “be
patient.”
They waited another ten minutes,
and suddenly heard the heavy door begin to move. Pete’s head popped out from behind
it.
“Sorry boys, I got trapped. I’m
glad you waited.”
Steven and Roy slipped in through
the door and Pete closed and bolted it behind them.
Steven walked through the basement
checking the various rooms. He stopped at the wall of one in a back corner, but
he seemed perplexed.
“This is the room he told us,”
Steven said. “But there’s no bricks here.”
“What’s that wall made out of?”
Roy asked Pete.
“Looks like drywall to me,” Pete
said. “It’s been drywall as long as I’ve been here.”
“Any chance there’s bricks on the
other side of it?” Steven asked. “Can we cut out a section and see?”
“I don’t see why not,” Pete said,
“I’ll be right back.” He left the room and returned from his workroom with a
drywall saw. “Any idea where to do it?” he asked.
“Right here,” Steven said,
pointing to a spot about three feet off the ground. “Cut everything from here
down to the floor, about three feet wide.”
Pete punched a hole in the wall
and began cutting. He ran into studs and had to reposition the saw, knocking
out chunks of the drywall as he went. In short order they all saw red bricks
behind the studs, looking very old.
“That’s a good sign,” said Roy.
“I’ll get the pickaxe,” Pete said.
“Let’s try to save the studs, work the bricks out around them if we can.”
They took turns swinging at the
bricks, and Steven began piling them in a stack in the corner of the room to
keep the work area clear. Once they had knocked out six or seven bricks, Steven
shined his flashlight through the hole.
“Dirt,” he announced, pulling
back. “This might be it. We’ll need a space big enough to work a shovel into.”
Pete swung his pickaxe again,
knocking out more bricks. They worked at it another fifteen minutes and removed
almost all the bricks in the hole.
“OK, now we dig,” Roy said. “Do
you have a shovel, Pete?”
Pete was breathing heavily from
swinging the pickaxe. He walked into his workroom to retrieve the shovel.
Steven looked at Roy.
“One of us uses the shovel, the
other keeps an eye on him,” Steven whispered to Roy. At first Roy was going to
protest, but he thought for a moment and then shook his head in agreement.
When Pete returned with the
shovel, Steven stuck out his hand to take it and Pete passed it to him. It just
fit between the studs, and Steven began piling shovelfuls of dirt in another
area of the room. He worked at it for several minutes, building up a sweat. He
dug straight into the dirt, and after he created a hole about two feet wide and
two feet deep, he expected the dirt at the top of the hole to start collapsing,
but it didn’t. The deeper he dug, the more he expected a collapse. Just as he
was about to ask Pete and Roy to think up a way to bolster the top of the hole,
his shovel hit metal.
Each of the three men in the room
looked at each other. Then a smile spread to all of their faces.
Steven used the shovel to dig
around the metal object, and after a few minutes he was able to dislodge it
from the hole in the wall. It was a tin box, square, about a foot wide. It was
heavier than he expected. He placed it down in the middle of the room.
“Open it!” Pete said. “Let’s see!”
Steven pried open the tin lid of
the box. Inside were two bags. Each was about the size of two fists balled
together. They were both tied closed with twine. Steven
lawn, they scanned for anyone out walking the grounds. Seeing no one, they
walked past the gazebo and down three cement stairs to a large metal door that
was painted light blue. They waited in the stairwell for Pete to open the door,
but he didn’t come.
“It’s five after,” Steven said,
“do you think something happened to him?”
“He’ll be here,” Roy said, “be
patient.”
They waited another ten minutes,
and suddenly heard the heavy door begin to move. Pete’s head popped out from behind
it.
“Sorry boys, I got trapped. I’m
glad you waited.”
Steven and Roy slipped in through
the door and Pete closed and bolted it behind them.
Steven walked through the basement
checking the various rooms. He stopped at the wall of one in a back corner, but
he seemed perplexed.
“This is the room he told us,”
Steven said. “But there’s no bricks here.”
“What’s that wall made out of?”
Roy asked Pete.
“Looks like drywall to me,” Pete
said. “It’s been drywall as long as I’ve been here.”
“Any chance there’s bricks on the
other side of it?” Steven asked. “Can we cut out a section and see?”
“I don’t see why not,” Pete said,
“I’ll be right back.” He left the room and returned from his workroom with a
drywall saw. “Any idea where to do it?” he asked.
“Right here,” Steven said,
pointing to a spot about three feet off the ground. “Cut everything from here
down to the floor, about three feet wide.”
Pete punched a hole in the wall
and began cutting. He ran into studs and had to reposition the saw, knocking
out chunks of the drywall as he went. In short order they all saw red bricks
behind the studs, looking very old.
“That’s a good sign,” said Roy.
“I’ll get the pickaxe,” Pete said.
“Let’s try to save the studs, work the bricks out around them if we can.”
They took turns swinging at the
bricks, and Steven began piling them in a stack in the corner of the room to
keep the work area clear. Once they had knocked out six or seven bricks, Steven
shined his flashlight through the hole.
“Dirt,” he announced, pulling
back. “This might be it. We’ll need a space big enough to work a shovel into.”
Pete swung his pickaxe again,
knocking out more bricks. They worked at it another fifteen minutes and removed
almost all the bricks in the hole.
“OK, now we dig,” Roy said. “Do
you have a shovel, Pete?”
Pete was breathing heavily from
swinging the pickaxe. He walked into his workroom to retrieve the shovel.
Steven looked at Roy.
“One of us uses the shovel, the
other keeps an eye on him,” Steven whispered to Roy. At first Roy was going to
protest, but he thought for a moment and then shook his head in agreement.
When Pete returned with the
shovel, Steven stuck out his hand to take it and Pete passed it to him. It just
fit between the studs, and Steven began piling shovelfuls of dirt in another
area of the room. He worked at it for several minutes, building up a sweat. He
dug straight into the dirt, and after he created a hole about two feet wide and
two feet deep, he expected the dirt at the top of the hole to start collapsing,
but it didn’t. The deeper he dug, the more he expected a collapse. Just as he
was about to ask Pete and Roy to think up a way to bolster the top of the hole,
his shovel hit metal.
Each of the three men in the room
looked at each other. Then a smile spread to all of their faces.
Steven used the shovel to dig
around the metal object, and after a few minutes he was able to dislodge it
from the hole in the wall. It was a tin box, square, about a foot wide. It was
heavier than he expected. He placed it down in the middle of the room.
“Open it!” Pete said. “Let’s see!”
Steven pried open the tin lid of
the box. Inside were two bags. Each was about the size of two fists balled
together. They were both tied closed with twine. Steven
Similar Books
