“Maybe he’s trying to find us, but doesn’t know where to look,” spoke a third person. “That was Dick,” mused Tom. “Oh, he must know we’re here,” came from the hidden Jack. “They’re around here, they’re within talking distance, and yet I can’t get at them!” thought Tom. Once more he looked at the stones, loosely heaped together. A sudden thought came to him. A flood of memory--something he had once read in a book. Kneeling down he placed his lips close to the crevices in the stones and called: “Fellows, I’m here! This is Tom Fairfield! Where are you? I’ve come to rescue you! I’ve been trying all the while, but this is the first chance I’ve had! Where are you?” Silence followed his words. Silence, and then came a rush of voices. “It’s Tom!” “Good old Tom!” “Here at last!” “Oh, Tom, get us out! We’re almost starved, and we don’t know what they’re going to do with us. Break in and get us out!” “But where are you?” asked our hero, much puzzled. “I can hear you. Your voices seem to come through a speaking tube. But I can’t see you. Can you look out of a window and see me?” “No,” Jack Fitch answered back. “We’re in some secret room in the old mill. The only window is a skylight. But where are you?” “Near a pile of stones at the side of the mill. How were you brought in?” “The old hermit, Skeel, and Sam and Nick. They made us prisoners, bound us, carried us off in your motorboat, and brought us here. They blindfolded us and carried us up. To the third story, I guess, though we never could find the staircase,” said Jack, through some crack leading to the pile of stones. “I found the secret stairway,” answered Tom. “I saw it on the plans. It’s built inside the wall, but how to get to it I don’t know. Unless--hold on, wait a minute!” he called eagerly. “I’ve just thought of something! Oh, fellows, I believe I’m on the trail!” Eagerly Tom began casting aside the stones of the pile. He worked feverishly, oblivious of any of his enemies who might see him. Stone after stone he cast aside, and then he found what he had suspected and sought. Concealed under the pile of small, loose stones was a trap door and a flight of steps leading into the earth, and beyond them Tom could see a stone passage--a tunnel. It seemed to lead toward the mill. “I’m coming boys!” he called. “I’ve found it! The way to the secret room! I’m coming!” Abandoning his blanket and package of food, and taking only his electric flashlight and the small axe, Tom climbed down the steps. A damp, musty odor greeted him, but he did not halt. He had a momentary thought that he might meet the hermit, or some of his enemies, but he did not hold back. Instead he ran boldly forward, his lamp giving him light enough to see.