The house had
been built by a chemist; even in the construction there was
mystery. I had never thought of a second cellar; when I had
explored the building I had taken the stone wall for granted. It
was so with Jerome. It was the first definite clue that really
brought us down to earth. What had this chemist to do with the
phenomena?
After all, behind everything was lurking the mind of man.
We hastened back to the house and into the cellar. By merely
sounding along the wall we discovered the door; it was cleverly
constructed and for a time defied our efforts; but Jerome got it
open by means of a jemmy and a pick. The outside was a clever
piece of sham work shaped like stone and smeared over with cement.
In the dim light we had missed it.
We had high expectations. But we were disappointed. The space
contained nothing; it was smeared with cobwebs and hairy mould;
but outside of a few empty bottles and the gloomy darkness there
was nothing. We tapped the walls and floor and ceiling. Beyond all
doubt the place once held a secret; if it held it still, it was
cleverly hidden. After an hour or two of search we returned to the
upper part of the building.
Jerome was not discouraged.
"We're on the right track, Mr. Wendel; if we can only get started.
I have an idea. The chemist--it was in 'ninety-one--that's more
than twenty years."
"What is your idea?"
"The Rhamda.
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