Wellspring (Paskagankee, Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

sympathizers who rode up from Connecticut and Rhode
Island. They completed their tasks, one or two at a time to avoid raising
suspicion among Paskagankee’s residents, and then disappeared, returning to
their hometowns and states.
    Within
a few months the illicit basement modifications had been completed, along with
improvements to the rest of the building, allowing Lucas Crosby to open the
Paskagankee Tavern. The community knew nothing of the structure’s dual purpose.
    In the
dank basement, Luke had chipped away a small handhold in one of the seams
between the massive granite blocks. The handhold was virtually invisible, indecipherable
to anyone unaware of its existence, and until memorizing its location even Luke
occasionally had to search for it by running his fingers along the block.
    Inside
the handhold, a spring-loaded latch had been inserted. A heavy pull on the
latch would allow one entire block of granite to swing ponderously outward on a
thick iron hinge, revealing a tunnel dug into the earth. The primitive six-foot
wide corridor sloped gradually downward and appeared to terminate at an earthen
wall fifteen feet away.
    That
wall, however, was just an illusion. What appeared to be a tree-root thrusting
several inches out of the wall was in reality another spring-loaded latch. A
tug on the “root” would result in a second door, this one smaller and constructed
of dark-brown wood almost perfectly matching the wall, opening on its own hinge
to reveal a small room hacked even farther into the earth.
    The
room had been outfitted with three pairs of bunk beds, a rudimentary table, and
six chairs. Shelving lined the walls from floor to ceiling, stocked with food
and water and various other supplies an Underground Railroad traveler might
need to stay alive—and safe—for weeks, if necessary. Luke had even
provided a makeshift lavatory, erecting a wooden wall across one small corner
of the room and outfitting the space behind it with a chamber pot.
    Luke’s
purpose in tunneling into the earth had been to provide for temperature
moderation. Thus, even on the coldest of the northern New England village’s
bitter winter nights, the secret room stayed at a reasonable temperature. It
wasn’t warm, exactly, but with the proper clothing and plenty of blankets,
would prevent a traveler from freezing to death.
    Providing
ventilation had presented the biggest challenge, and Lucas had been forced to
bring an engineer all the way from Boston to solve the problem. Eventually,
they constructed a series of small tunnels running from the ceiling to ground
level, terminating at different locations around the tavern’s property. Each of
the ventilation tunnels was integrated into the landscape and was as
indecipherable to the unknowing observer as the door built into the basement’s
granite blocks.
    The product
of Lucas Crosby’s backbreaking labor was a hidden room of the highest quality;
one that allowed Luke to serve the needs of freedom-seeking slaves without
putting his safety or the safety of his beloved Sarah at unnecessary risk. As
many as a half-dozen Underground Railroad riders at once could remain safely concealed
inside the room for as long as necessary if suspicious strangers – or
even locals – seemed to be asking the wrong kinds of questions around the
Paskagankee Tavern.
    The thick
granite blocks, long tunneled entrance and deep-in-the-earth construction
deadened all sound, so once sealed inside the hidden room, escaping slaves were
free to talk as loudly as they wished without fear of being discovered.
    Luke
had placed several crates of supplies inside the access tunnel behind the
granite blocks in the event his basement doorway were ever discovered, planning
to explain away the tunnel as simply an extra, if unusual, storage area. In
five years, though, the secret construction had not come close to being
discovered. Even Sarah had never actually seen the room.
    She was
about to see it now, though.
    Luke
led the