The Treasure Keepers by Chris Mould

Author:Chris Mould
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press
Published: 2014-04-11T04:00:00+00:00

Suddenly, Grimble’s tactics needed to change. He had gone from fascinated explorer to trapped desperado in one short step.

Back in the basement, the sound of his calls grew more and more muffled. Mac tried to head toward him through the tunnels, but he heard the rush of the sea and watched the water seeping in, and that was enough. He fled. He still had nightmares about escaping the water.

“Keep your head upwards and dig away above your when you get as high as your can go.” MacDowell cried. His voice echoed unheard through the curved and craggy passages.

They had to leave Grimble behind. They could see that, very quickly, the water was taking control of the mines. No one could argue with the might of the sea.

Outside, an argument spilled into the square. Beale and Nook berated MacDowell: the mines were empty, and they’d left a good colleague to find his way out of a watery prison. If he didn’t appear out on the moor as Mac had promised he would, they’d be less than happy.

They wandered up to the moor, searching and calling, as MacDowell stood panicking in the village square.

Stanley and Daisy saw their opportunity and moved in. They had watched the men emerging and seen that one of them was missing. It appeared that their plan had worked, but still they felt terrible. They knew how it felt to be trapped down in the mine.

“I think perhaps you’d better get yourself back in your kennel,” joked Daisy. “It’s growing dark. We don’t want any nonsense now, do we?”

“I’ll come quietly,” said Mac. He was definitely down in the dumps. He stared across the moor, hoping to catch a glimpse of three men.

But no one was there.

Below their very feet, Grimble was searching desperately, perspiring at the thought that he might never see the daylight again, clambering hopelessly through the dark with a feeble candle that was almost burned out.

Trickles and gushes seeped in everywhere. “Upwards,” he said to himself, trying to cheer himself up. “Upwards and onwards.” He hadn’t heard a word of MacDowell’s advice, but it made sense to head up. The higher the better.

And then a stroke of luck presented itself. Grimble heard a sound: chirping and whistling, in short sharp shrills. It was a bird! In the caves? That meant only one thing. Nearby was a way out. However small it was, it would do, he thought.

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