"You'd think we were in a smuggler's cave." "Worse," said Ronicky, "a pile worse, son.

And they'll sure have to have some tunnels or something for get-aways.

This ain't a lawful house, Jerry." As they talked, they were being led down toward the cellar.

They paused at last in a cool, big room, paved with cement, and the unmistakable scent of the underground was in the air.
"Here we are," said the fat man, and, so saying, he turned a switch which illumined the room completely and then drew aside a curtain which opened into a black cavity.
Ronicky Doone approached and peered into it.

"How does it look to you, Jerry ?" he asked.
"Dark, but good enough for me, if you're all set on leaving by some funny way." "I don't care how it looks," said Ronicky thoughtfully.