Secret of the Underground Room Read Online Free PDF

of the high altar, where broad steps rose to a beautifully carved marble screen covered with gesturing figures. At the bottom of the steps were more inscribed stones, and the professor hunched over with his hands on his knees so he could see them better. Scuttling sideways, he went from one to the next, until suddenly he let out a loud exclamation.
    "Hah!" he crowed. "This is it! My memory did not fail me after all! This is where Father Higgins's mother is buried!"
    The boys moved in close to look. Sure enough, the neat letters said:
    Â 
    In memory of
    MARY ELIZABETH HIGGINS (1888-1946)
    whose ashes repose beneath this stone
    Â 
    Dropping quickly to his knees, the professor examined the edges of the stone, which was cemented firmly into the pavement. There was no sign that the slab had been pried up or tampered with in any way.
    "Huh!" snorted the professor as he pulled himself to his feet. "So maybe I was wrong about what Higgy is trying to do. He's had plenty of time to come here, swipe his mom's ashes, and skedaddle. But then if he isn't planning to raise his mother's—"
    "Excuse me, sir," said a deep grave voice, "but I was wondering if I could be of any assistance to you?"
    The professor looked up. Standing above him was a tall, lean, old clergyman in a floor-length black cassock. He had a long, horsy face and big droopy ears. A mop of white hair hung down over his forehead. Startled and flustered, the professor tried to make up a story on the spur of the moment—he didn't dare tell the man why they were really there.
    "Uh... well, er, ahem!" spluttered the professor, as his mind raced madly. "I... we, that is, we have a friend in America whose mother is buried here. I promised him that we would look up his mother's grave while we were in England."
    A faint smile creased the old man's lips. "How very kind of you," he said in a slightly sarcastic tone that puzzled the professor. "You are welcome to examine our church until noon, when a communion service will be held. After that... "
    The old man rattled on, but the professor was not listening to him. He was staring into the man's eyes. Their gaze met, and the professor flinched. Quickly he glanced away, and then with a great effort the professor pulled himself together. He looked at Johnny and Fergie and forced himself to smile pleasantly at the old man. Then he coughed pompously and yanked his gold watch out of his vest pocket.
    "Hem!" said the professor, popping the gold lid to read the face. "I fear that we must be off to examine the ruins of the abbey. Thank you for your kindness, sir, and I'm sorry our visit has to be so short." Awkwardly the professor started to shake hands with the clergyman, but at the last minute he closed his hand into a fist, turned, and stalked out of the church. The boys followed him with bewildered expressions on their faces. When they were outside and the church door had closed behind them, the boys turned to the professor. They were waiting for an explanation.
    "What was that all about, prof?" asked Fergie.
    The professor folded his arms and looked grim. Johnny noticed that the corner of his mouth was twitching, as it often did when he was upset. "I'll explain it to you in a minute," said the professor in a strained voice. "I just don't want to talk about it now. What a shock! Let's go and have a look at the ruins of the abbey."
    A few minutes later they were walking among the tall, roofless stone walls of Glastonbury Abbey. Normally the professor would have been talking a mile a minute, but he was dead silent. They wandered across the well-trimmed grass till they came to a low brick wall that lay beyond the great towering masses of wrecked stone. The professor sat down on the wall and took out a black cardboard box decorated with a gold two-headed eagle. From it he plucked a black-and-gold cigarette, and when it was lit, he stared off into space with the strangest of looks on his face. By now the boys were very