“This must be where they store all the stuff,” Joe said, as he inspected one of the boxes. “There must be another opening that leads to the top of the cliff. They probably bring the stuff up to the house and then dispose of it from there.” “You’d think they would keep it at the Polucca place instead of down here.” “Probably they are afraid the house might be raided at some time or another. That’s why they keep the goods hidden in this place. It would be mighty hard for any one to find it here.” “But how do they get the stuff out of here? There’s no doorway that I can see.” The light of the flashlight played upon the walls. No doorway, no opening of any kind, was revealed. “That’s strange,” said Frank. “There must be some way out.” They began to move about the chamber. Across some of the bales of goods had been thrown rich bolts of silk, while valuable tapestries were also lying carelessly on the floor. In one corner were three or four boxes piled on top of one another. Frank accidentally knocked the flashlight against one of these and it gave forth a hollow sound. “It’s empty,” he said. An idea struck him that perhaps these boxes had been piled up to conceal some passage leading out of the secret chamber. He mentioned his suspicion to Joe. “But how could they pile the boxes up there after they went out?” his brother questioned. “This gang are smart enough for anything. Let’s move these boxes away.” He seized the topmost box. It was very light and he removed it from the top of the pile without difficulty. “I thought so!” exclaimed Frank, with satisfaction. For the light revealed the top of a door which had hitherto been hidden from view. The boys lost no time in moving the rest of the boxes, and the entire door was soon in sight. Then the boys discovered how it was possible for the boxes to be piled up in such a position in spite of the fact that the smugglers had left the chamber and closed the door behind them. Attached to the bottom of the door was a small wooden platform that projected out some distance over the floor of the cave and on this platform the boxes had been piled. “They are kept there all the time, as a blind,” he said. “Whenever any one leaves the cave and closes the door the boxes swing in with the platform and it looks as though they were piled up on the floor.” The ingenuity of the contrivance won their reluctant admiration. “What shall we do?” asked Joe, looking through the doorway into the darkness beyond. “Go ahead?” “We’ve come this far, and there’s no sense in turning back. Let’s go.” Frank stepped on into the passage beyond. He had hardly switched on the flashlight, revealing a crude flight of stairs that led from the rocky landing, before he stiffened and laid a warning hand on his brother’s arm. “Voices!” he whispered. They listened.