It was a cool, sunny morning, when the three friends arrived at the tunnel entrance near the foot of Hobie’s Hill. In addition to their backpacks with the essentials, they each carried the most powerful flashlights they could find.
“They sealed it from the other side,” Harry said. “We’ll need to go slow and look carefully.”
“Now that we know the full story, do we really need to find the tunnel?” Silas asked.
“I’m pretty sure the Historical Society will want to mark the spot with a sign of some sort.”
“Another hike,” Joe said.
“Maybe,” Harry agreed. “Or they might simply do a video. It’s not a hike that everyone will want to do. We just have to provide the information. The rest is up to them.”
Three hours later, they emerged from the cave, tired and happy to be back outside. Scrutinizing the cave walls for a possible opening that men could reach easily, had been a tedious task.
“They sure did a good job of plugging the entrance from the other side,” Silas said. “Good thing we knew what to look for.”
“No kidding,” Harry agreed. “Those sods were jammed between the rocks so tight they’ve grown into place. You’d never think there was a tunnel behind it if you didn’t know what to look for. Let’s go home.”
“That’s finished,” Joe said.
“Yeah, I guess,” Harry said. “But I’d still like to know what bridge that tunnel comes out beside.”
“Let us know if you find out,” Silas said.
After dropping them both off, Harry turned the truck towards the edge of town, and into the driveway of a familiar mansion. He rang the doorbell.
“Nice to see you, Mr. Hogan. You’ll find her in the library,” Glory said.
“Thank you, Glory.” Harry went down the hall, knocked lightly on the open door, and went in.
“Mr. Hogan! A nice surprise. Sit down and tell me what I can do for you.”
He took a seat across from her and told her what they’d been checking out. “It’s been quite interesting,” he said, as he finished.
“And Ben is back in town?” Harry nodded. “I must meet with him, get the family story directly from him for my book. Now, what do you need?”
“The tunnel’s outside entrance was beside a bridge. Do you know the name of it?”
It’s always been known as Rendezvous Bridge. A certain young woman met her secret beau there every evening at twilight. Her parents didn’t approve of him because he was French. Each time the bridge was rebuilt and named for some prominent official, people still referred to it as Rendezvous, because many young couples met there. The last rebuild was to install a culvert which blocked the tunnel entrance.”
“You are familiar with it,” Harry said.
She smiled. “Yes. The main tunnel, the one that the smugglers’ tunnel branches from, was very important to my work years ago.”
Harry smiled and nodded. “I won’t mention that.”
As Harry turned the truck back towards the office, he realised he had quite a report to type for this one. When it was done, Bertie would polish it up for the Society. “Too bad the outside entrance to the tunnel is no longer open,” he said to himself.
