Jack's Ward; Or, The Boy Guardian, Jr. Horatio Alger [top books to read .TXT] 📗

XXVIII THE SECRET STAIRCASE

The prospect certainly was not a bright one. The door was fast locked. Escape from the windows seemed impracticable. This apparently exhausted the avenues of escape that were open to the dissatisfied prisoner. But accidentally Jack made an important discovery.

There was a full-length portrait in the room. Jack chanced to rest his hand against it, when he must unconsciously have touched some secret spring, for a secret door opened, dividing the picture in two parts, and, to our hero's unbounded astonishment, he saw before him a small spiral staircase leading down into the darkness.

"This is a queer old house!" thought Jack. "I wonder where those stairs go to. I've a great mind to explore."

There was not much chance of detection, he reflected, as it would be three hours before his next meal would be brought him. He left the door open, therefore, and began slowly and cautiously to go down the staircase. It seemed a long one, longer than was necessary to connect two floors. Boldly Jack kept on till he reached the bottom.

"Where am I?" thought our hero. "I must be down as low as the cellar."

While this thought passed through his mind, voices suddenly struck upon his ear. He had accustomed himself now to the darkness, and ascertained that there was a crevice through which he could look in the direction from which the sounds proceeded. Applying his eye, he could distinguish a small cellar apartment, in the middle of which was a printing press, and work was evidently going on. He could distinguish three persons. Two were in their shirt sleeves, bending over an engraver's bench. Beside them, and apparently superintending their work, was the old man whom Jack knew as Dr. Robinson.

He applied his ear to the crevice, and heard these words:

"This lot is rather better than the last, Jones. We can't be too careful, or the detectives will interfere with our business. Some of the last lot were rather coarse."

"I know it, sir," answered the man addressed as Jones.

"There's nothing the matter with this," said the old man. "There isn't one person in a hundred that would suspect it was not genuine."

Jack pricked up his ears.

Looking through the crevice, he ascertained that it was a bill that the old man had in his hand.

"They're counterfeiters," he said, half audibly.

Low as the tone was, it startled Dr. Robinson.

"Ha!" said he, startled, "what's that?"

"What's what, sir?" said Jones.

"I thought I heard some one speaking."

"I didn't hear nothing, sir."

"Did you hear nothing, Ferguson?"

"No, sir."

"I suppose I was deceived, then," said the old man.

"How many bills have you there?" he resumed.

"Seventy-nine, sir."

"That's a very good day's work," said the old man, in a tone of satisfaction. "It's a paying business."

"It pays you, sir," said Jones, grumbling.

"And it shall pay you, too, my man, never fear!"

Jack had made a great discovery. He understood now the connection between Mrs. Hardwick and the old man whom he now knew not to be a physician. He was at the head of a gang of counterfeiters, and she was engaged in putting the false money into circulation.

He softly ascended the staircase, and re-entered the room he left, closing the secret door behind him.

CHAPTER XXIX JACK IS DETECTED

In the course of the afternoon, Jack made another visit to the foot of the staircase. He saw through the crevice the same two men at work, but the old man was not with them. Ascertaining this, he ought, in prudence, immediately to have retraced his steps, but he remained on watch for twenty minutes. When he did return he was startled by finding the old man seated, and waiting for him. There was a menacing expression on his face.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, abruptly.

"Downstairs," answered Jack.

"Ha! What did you see?"

"I may as well own up," thought Jack. "Through a crack I saw some men at work in a basement room," he replied.

"Do you know what they were doing?"

"Counterfeiting, I should think."

"Well, is there anything wrong in that?"

"I suppose you wouldn't want to be found out," he answered.

"I didn't mean to have you make this discovery. Now there's only one thing to be done."

"What's that?"

"You have become possessed of an important—I may say, a dangerous secret. You have us in your power."

"I suppose," said Jack, "you are afraid I will denounce you to the police?"

"Well, there is a possibility of that. That class of people has a prejudice against us, though we are only doing what everybody likes to do—making money."

"Will you let me go if I keep your secret?"

"What assurance have we that you would keep your promise?"

"I would pledge my word."

"Your word!" Foley—for this was the old man's real name—snapped his fingers. "I wouldn't give that for it. That is not sufficient."

"What will be?"

"You must become one of us."

"One of you!"

"Yes. You must make yourself liable to the same penalties, so that it will be for your own interest to remain silent. Otherwise we can't trust you."

"Suppose I decline these terms?"

"Then I shall be under the painful necessity of retaining you as my guest," said Foley, smiling disagreeably.

"What made you pretend to be a mad-doctor?"

"To put you off the track," said Foley. "You believed it, didn't you?"

"At first."

"Well, what do you say?" asked Foley.

"I should like to take time to reflect