want to keep out of trouble you had better help us all you can."
By this time Dick had the table shoved to one side. Under the bottom of one of the legs he found a small iron ring, connecting with the door in the floor. He pulled on this and the door came up, showing a small cellar below, used chiefly by the old man for the storage of winter vegetables and the roots he gathered.
"Dangler, you might as well come up!" called out Dick. "It won't do you any good to try to hide."
"What do you want of me?" came in a sullen voice from below.
"You know very well what we want."
"I haven't done anything."
"You can tell that to the police, after you are locked up. Come up."
Slowly and with downcast face Bill Dangler crawled from the small cellar and pulled himself up to the floor of the cabin. He gazed reproachfully at the old man, who was again trembling.
"I'll fix you for going back on me," he muttered.
"They say you are a thief," answered the old man. "If you are, I want nothing more to do with you. I am poor, but I am honest—everybody who knows me knows that."
