"Did your father ever speak of the reason for this partition in
the cellar?"

"He never knew of one. It was none of his business. He was merely
a labourer, and did what he was paid for."

"Do you know who built it?"

"Some old guy. He was a cranky cuss with side-whiskers. He used to
wear a stove-pipe hat. I think he was a chemist. Whenever he
showed up he would run us kids out of the building. I think he was
a bachelor."

This was all the information he could give, but it was a great
deal. Certainly it was more than I had hoped for. The house had
been built by a chemist; even in the construction there was
mystery. I had never thought of a second cellar; when I had
explored the building I had taken the stone wall for granted. It
was so with Jerome. It was the first definite clue that really
brought us down to earth. What had this chemist to do with the
phenomena?

After all, behind everything was lurking the mind of man.

We hastened back to the house and into the cellar. By merely
sounding along the wall we discovered the door; it was cleverly
constructed and for a time defied our efforts; but Jerome got it
open by means of a jemmy and a pick. The outside was a clever
piece of sham work shaped like stone and smeared over with cement.