ng to do--kill people?"

The old man sniffed. "Used to be covered, but the lid's gone. Didn't
expect to have a bunch of nosy fellers pokin' around down here!"

The state trooper muttered angrily under his breath as he shone his
flashlight into the well-shaft. Bud was splashing around below, soaked
and chagrined by his accident.

"Give me a hand!" he called up.

The trooper reached down, but was barely able to touch Bud's finger
tips. To make matters worse, the sides of the well were slippery with
moss.

"Get a rope," the trooper ordered the old man.

"Ain't got one."

The policeman reddened and stood up to his full six-foot-two. "Look,
mister--what's your name?"

The elderly man shrank back, as if suspecting that the trooper's
patience might have been tried too far. "Ben Smith," he mumbled.

"Okay, Mr. Smith, you get a rope or something else to pull this boy out.
And fast!"

Ben Smith gulped on his chewing tobacco and hurried off. A minute or so
later he returned with a length of clothesline. The trooper lowered it
into the well and Bud was soon climbing out, looking like a drenched
rat.

"Sorry, son," Smith said apologetically. "Guess I should have warned
ye."

Bud chuckled good-naturedly. "It's all right," he said. "It was my own
fault for not watching where I was going. Besides, you can't blame an
American for not liking the idea of having his home searched."

The old man chuckled too and flashed a wary eye at the trooper. "I'll go
get ye a towel to dry off with," he told Bud.

Meanwhile, Tom was investigating a house down the road with another
state trooper. The owner, a paunchy unshaven bachelor named Pete Latty,
and his seventeen-year-old nephew accompanied them to the basement.

A naked light bulb, hanging from the ceiling, revealed an ancient
furnace, and an accumulation of junk. Most of it was covered with dust,
but Tom noticed a large packing crate that looked as if it had been
freshly moved. He walked over and began to shove the heavy box aside.

"What're you doing?" Latty asked gruffly.

"I want to look underneath," Tom replied. A second later his eyes
widened as he saw a trap door, evidently leading to a subcellar.

Tom beckoned his partner over and showed his discovery. "Where does this
lead to?" the trooper asked, turning back to Latty.

"Just a little storage place," the owner replied with a shrug. "I didn't
think it was worth mentioning. You'd better not go down there," he added