nd see!"

With these hasty exclamations both boys leaped from the carriage they
occupied and ran towards the delapidated cottage. The cries continued,
coming from somewhere in the interior.

"Wait--we'll look in the window first," suggested Sam. "Maybe old Duff
is having a quarrel with one of his neighbors, and if so it might not
be wise to interfere."

There was a window with small panes of glass close at hand, and going
to this the two youths peered into the cottage. To their surprise they
could see nobody. Both lower rooms of the old building seemed to be
unoccupied.

"Let's go around to the rear. Maybe the sounds come from there,"
suggested Songbird.

There was a path full of weeds leading to a rear porch that was almost
ready to fall down. The back door stood partly open. Nobody was in
sight.

"The call comes from somewhere inside," said Sam. "Come on in. But be
on your guard, Songbird. We don't want to get into trouble."

Both lads crossed the rickety porch and entered what was the kitchen of
the cottage. A musty odor pervaded the building, for old Duff usually
kept everything tightly closed.

The place was in disorder, a chair being overturned and several cooking
utensils littering the floor. On the stove, which was cold, lay a big
carving knife.

"What do you want? Where are you?" called out Sam.

"Oh, help me! Get me out of here!" came the somewhat faint reply. "I
am in the cellar!"

"In the cellar!" repeated Songbird. "Are you Mr. Duff?"

"Yes. Help me out, please."

Both boys looked around for a stairs, but there was none. Then, to one
side of the kitchen floor, they saw a trap door. It was shut down and
bolted by means of a plug stuck through two staples.

It was an easy matter to kick the plug away and raise the trap door.
The boys peered down into the opening below and saw Hiram Duff sitting
on the lower step of the stairs. He looked hollow-eyed and almost
exhausted.

"What's the matter, Mr. Duff? How did you get shut up this way?" asked
Sam, kindly.

"Oh, my! Oh, my!" sighed the old miser. "Ca--can't you help me up the
stairs? I am so--so weak I can't hardly walk. Where is the rascal who
shut me up this way? I'll have the police on him!"

"Did somebody shut you up In this cellar?" asked Sam, as he and
Songbird crawled below to give the old man assistance. They saw that
the cellar was merely a big hole in the ground and the stairs were very
steep and not p