e passed the girls
without speaking.

"You can't go any further this way," one of them said in a rather gruff
tone. "We're growing a new variety of corn and want to keep the seed to
ourselves."

"What's that?" demanded Chet in astonishment

"You heard what I said. You can't stay here, and you can't go that way."

"You want to get out of here," growled the second man. "Come, move on."

"You can't steal any of our corn-growing secrets. Move on," and the first
man shook his club suggestively.

The strange men looked ugly, and the boys and girls, after a pause,
turned off in another direction.

"Humph!" grunted Ted, with a curious glance at the place where the men
had been. "They made a mistake. That wasn't a corn story. It was a
fish story!"

"Maybe," returned Billie. "But what does it mean?"

CHAPTER XIX

IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT

There was so much of interest about the house, and outside of it, that a
week passed almost before the young folks knew it.

The boys were for exploring the cellar, and did so one fine day, taking
the girls along.

They had a flashlight, a lantern, and some candles, and all these
combined gave them quite an illumination. But the girls kept close to the
boys, for the cellar was certainly a creepy place, with its many nooks
and corners and dark closets.

They managed to find two tunnels, one about fifty feet long and the other
close to a hundred.

"Caved in!" cried Chet in disgust.

He was right; dirt and rocks filled the openings, both of which were
quite wet.

"I'll bet they led to the brook," remarked Teddy. "When the Indians made
a raid the settlers could crawl through one tunnel or the other and so
hide in the brook."

"I think Ted must be right," said Ferd.

There was but little of value in the cellar. Old tools, rusted with age,
and some empty bottles and jugs, and that was about all.

"It's awfully musty," said Billie presently. "I'm going upstairs and out
into the sunshine." And she went, and the others soon followed.

Billie had received the address of Miss Beggs, the school-teacher. It had
been sent to her address at home and forwarded by Mrs. Bradley.

"Now, I guess I'll have to write that letter to the teacher and explain
all about the broken statue," said Billie dismally. "Oh, dear, I wish I
didn't have to do it."

"It's too bad we haven't the money to pay for the old thing," came from
Chet. "Can't we sell some of this stuff? It must be worth so