Some of the men looked puzzled, Mr. Stanlock was evidently laboring
under increasing distress, but Lieut Larkin's curiosity seemed to
grow.

"Some queer stories have been told about this place," he said; "and
I'm wondering if now is not the time to put them to a test. They are
pretty wild stories, almost as wild as haunted house yarns, but there
may be thing to them."

"I've heard something about them myself," said Mr. Stanlock. "You
refer to the stories about the building of this house over an old
mine, I suppose? This cellar was said to have been the mouth of the
shaft of the mine enlarged."

"That's it," the lieutenant replied. "Now, let's look about and see if
there is anything to it."

He began to flash his light over the floor, walls, and contents of the
cellar. The latter consisted principally of barrels, boxes and a
nondescript pile of scrap lumber. Most of this was heaped against the
south wall.

Presently something in the pile of lumber held the attention of the
lieutenant, who began to examine it more closely.

"Look here," he said, addressing Mr. Stanlock. "Do you see any
difference between this pile of lumber and that dry goods box over
there?"

"I was just noticing that there was a heavy covering of dust on the