the long hall after a few seconds and came back with a flashlight. “I’ll go with you,” Thomas said.
“I’d rather you stayed here. I’ll only be a minute,” said his father.
Mr. Small was gone less than a minute. Thomas and his mother waited, staring into the tunnel opening, flooded with the light from the kitchen. A few feet beyond the opening, the kitchen light ended in a wall of blackness. They could see the light from Mr. Small’s flashlight darting here and there along the ceiling of the tunnel until the path descended.
Mr. Small returned by way of the veranda steps. His white shirt was soiled from scaling the brick wall. As he came into the kitchen, muddying the floor as Thomas had, he was thoughtful, but not at all afraid.
He walked over to a high cabinet on the opposite wall from the tunnel. Beneath it, a small panel in the wall slid open at his touch. The panel had been invisible to the eye, but now revealed what seemed to be a jumble of miniature machinery. Mr. Small released a lever. The tunnel door slid silently down, and the patterned wallpaper of the kitchen showed no trace of what lay hidden behind it. Lastly, Mr. Small removed a mechanism of some kind from the panel and put it in his pocket.
“Did you see anything?” Thomas asked him. “Did you find my flashlight?”
“I didn’t see anything,” Mr. Small said, “and I didn’t hear any sighing.”
“Well that’s a relief,” said Mrs. Small. “Goodness, if you’d found somebody … I’m sure my nerves would just give way.”
“Your flashlight must have fallen in a crack,” said Mr. Small. “I couldn’t find it. Oh, yes, I removed the control from the panel. Without it, a giant couldn’t raise that tunnel door.”
“But you said there wasn’t anything in the tunnel,” said Thomas.
“That’s so, but I don’t want you wandering around in there,” his father said. “The walls and ceiling are dirt and rock. There hasn’t been a cave-in that I know of in a century, yet I think it best we don’t take chances. I also removed the gears that control the front steps.”
All he had to do was tell me not to go into the tunnel, Thomas thought. Give me a good reason and I wouldn’t go … he knows that’s all he has to do. He saw something or he heard something, and he’s not going to tell anybody!
The twins had sat calmly through the commotion of Thomas’ coming through the wall and their father going back through it again. Now they scrambled down from their chairs and slapped the wall with their hands. When the wall didn’t move, they kicked it. They were crestfallen when the wall wouldn’t slide up, as it had for Thomas.
Thomas had to laugh at them. “See? It’s just a wall,” he told them. They shook their heads.
“It’s just a wallpapered wall with a pretty design to look at.”
“I’d better get them ready for bed,” Mrs. Small said. “They’ll make themselves sick trying to get through the wall the way you did.
“Why is it you have to do just like Thomas?” she asked, teasing them. “Are you going to get into everything, just like Thomas, and cause me trouble?”
The twins laughed. Mrs. Small swept them into her arms and carried them out of the room.
Thomas sat at the table. He didn’t look around the kitchen. He still wasn’t ready to see the inside of the house, for he hoped to get the outside fixed in his mind first. When he heard his mother upstairs with the boys, he ate quickly. He glanced at his father, who sat across from him filling his pipe.
“It’s still light out,” Thomas said.
Mr. Small paused with the pipe. Thomas hadn’t needed to say anything more for his father to understand his wish.
“Maybe you’d better wait until tomorrow,” Mr. Small said. He glanced out of the window. There was still no clear sign of dusk in the sky.
Thomas picked at his food. He would not look around at the kitchen. The twins were making a lot of noise upstairs.
“Do I get to have a big
“I’d rather you stayed here. I’ll only be a minute,” said his father.
Mr. Small was gone less than a minute. Thomas and his mother waited, staring into the tunnel opening, flooded with the light from the kitchen. A few feet beyond the opening, the kitchen light ended in a wall of blackness. They could see the light from Mr. Small’s flashlight darting here and there along the ceiling of the tunnel until the path descended.
Mr. Small returned by way of the veranda steps. His white shirt was soiled from scaling the brick wall. As he came into the kitchen, muddying the floor as Thomas had, he was thoughtful, but not at all afraid.
He walked over to a high cabinet on the opposite wall from the tunnel. Beneath it, a small panel in the wall slid open at his touch. The panel had been invisible to the eye, but now revealed what seemed to be a jumble of miniature machinery. Mr. Small released a lever. The tunnel door slid silently down, and the patterned wallpaper of the kitchen showed no trace of what lay hidden behind it. Lastly, Mr. Small removed a mechanism of some kind from the panel and put it in his pocket.
“Did you see anything?” Thomas asked him. “Did you find my flashlight?”
“I didn’t see anything,” Mr. Small said, “and I didn’t hear any sighing.”
“Well that’s a relief,” said Mrs. Small. “Goodness, if you’d found somebody … I’m sure my nerves would just give way.”
“Your flashlight must have fallen in a crack,” said Mr. Small. “I couldn’t find it. Oh, yes, I removed the control from the panel. Without it, a giant couldn’t raise that tunnel door.”
“But you said there wasn’t anything in the tunnel,” said Thomas.
“That’s so, but I don’t want you wandering around in there,” his father said. “The walls and ceiling are dirt and rock. There hasn’t been a cave-in that I know of in a century, yet I think it best we don’t take chances. I also removed the gears that control the front steps.”
All he had to do was tell me not to go into the tunnel, Thomas thought. Give me a good reason and I wouldn’t go … he knows that’s all he has to do. He saw something or he heard something, and he’s not going to tell anybody!
The twins had sat calmly through the commotion of Thomas’ coming through the wall and their father going back through it again. Now they scrambled down from their chairs and slapped the wall with their hands. When the wall didn’t move, they kicked it. They were crestfallen when the wall wouldn’t slide up, as it had for Thomas.
Thomas had to laugh at them. “See? It’s just a wall,” he told them. They shook their heads.
“It’s just a wallpapered wall with a pretty design to look at.”
“I’d better get them ready for bed,” Mrs. Small said. “They’ll make themselves sick trying to get through the wall the way you did.
“Why is it you have to do just like Thomas?” she asked, teasing them. “Are you going to get into everything, just like Thomas, and cause me trouble?”
The twins laughed. Mrs. Small swept them into her arms and carried them out of the room.
Thomas sat at the table. He didn’t look around the kitchen. He still wasn’t ready to see the inside of the house, for he hoped to get the outside fixed in his mind first. When he heard his mother upstairs with the boys, he ate quickly. He glanced at his father, who sat across from him filling his pipe.
“It’s still light out,” Thomas said.
Mr. Small paused with the pipe. Thomas hadn’t needed to say anything more for his father to understand his wish.
“Maybe you’d better wait until tomorrow,” Mr. Small said. He glanced out of the window. There was still no clear sign of dusk in the sky.
Thomas picked at his food. He would not look around at the kitchen. The twins were making a lot of noise upstairs.
“Do I get to have a big
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