The next day, the boys meet at Archie's house and decide to visit the secret passage. I mean, take the "secret passage" route through people's backyards, and enter the tunnel. They bring their flashlights along, presumably the same flashlights they said a few chapters back that they were going to ask their parents for.
"Why do you need a flashlight in the daytime?" "Uh... can I just still have it?"
Totally not suspicious.
Anyway, they enter the backyard, slide the stone slate aside, and climb down.
See, I told you before that's the order they always do things in. The book keeps reminding us. I guess it's important or something.
Archie, being the leader and the one who does stuff, waves his flashlight around to see how big the inside of the tunnel is and if it's safe to walk through.
Unless that adult is Shaquille O'Neil.
Or for that matter, any tall person. Six feet isn't really that high. Five feet is just wide enough to be borderline claustrophobic.
Hey, assuming this is accurate (I wouldn't know), I think I've discovered the author's special interest: tunnel design. Expect the tunnel to play a big role in this story. Maybe we'll even see more descriptions that actually make sense.
I'm genuinely impressed. It seems like the author, for once, actually really knows what he's talking about.
He then puts these thoughts in Archie's head, which raises the question of how a twelve year old who's never seen a squirt gun before knows how tunnels are constructed. He seems to have unusual peaks and deficits in his knowledge.
Archie heads back and calls over Billy and Hank, who were standing by the ladder (skinny tunnel, after all), to join him.
"That's for sure!" Hank said. "And it's a lot bigger than I thought it would be, too." He shined his flashlight all around the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. "And look at these wood beams. They're new. Notice that?"
"Yeah," Archie answered. "That's one of the first things I noticed when I looked in here. I think this tunnel must be new. Must have been made within the last year, or maybe even the last six months. You can tell by the new wood, and the way the dirt is."
Billy shined his flashlight on the wood supports and dirt wall of the tunnel, looking to see what Archie was talking about. "Yeah, I think you're right about that, Archie. I think this tunnel is new. At least that's the way it looks right here."
What I'd like to know is how the kids all know so much about tunnel construction. One of them knowing, yeah, I can understand that. All three of them being experts in this field, is just very improbable. It's almost as if the author loves tunnels and knows a lot about them, so he imparted his knowledge to all three of his protagonists.
This just feels like the classic writing trap of creating characters who think and act like the author. It usually appears in more subtle forms, such as having multiple characters from different walks of life use the same expressions and phrases. Having everyone share the same interest and also being very knowledgeable of it, when there's no known reason why, is one of the more extreme forms I've ever seen of this.
A better way to handle this would be simple: have one of the kids (preferably not Archie, so that way Billy or Hank could actually be shown to have some specialized knowledge and become more useful) be an expert and tunnels and explain things to everyone else. Have the story tell why this person knows so much, like maybe they used to read adventure books about exploring tunnels, and decided to learn more about it. Some kind of explanation. Then, have this one knowledgeable character explain to the others what's going on, like pointing out that the fresh wood indicates it was newly built, the lack of collapsed dirt on the ground means no risk of a cave-in, etc. and make it clear that the others didn't already know that.
That would make a lot more sense, while also fleshing out the characters a bit more.
Open pipes. Almost as if they're under a house or something. They did say a couple chapters back that the tunnel looked as if it led to a nearby house or garage. Now the book is subtly implying the obvious. I guess this is clever.
They soon reach a dark opening along the left wall of the tunnel. They decide this opening might be another tunnel of some kind, so they go inside. They then notice that this new tunnel is exactly the same design as the other tunnel. They spend several minutes (minutes, not seconds) discussing which tunnel to take, and decide to take the main tunnel.
After a while, the tunnel starts getting higher and wider the farther they go, and we get this paragraph that's going to be important later:
"Well, I guess this is the end of the tunnel," Archie said.
There's nothing wrong with that writing in itself. But keep it in mind. You'll see why in a later chapter.
They then notice some crates sitting on the floor.
(...)
"Yup, that's what they are, alright. They're crates, wooden crates. Take a look."
"Well golly gee, they sure look like crates alright. Wooden crates. Yup, I think they are crates! Take a look."
The book describes the shape and size of the crates, and after that exciting crate description action, we get exciting crate opening action. They discover there's nothing inside all three crates, which sucks.
Billy and Hank crouched down and shined their flashlights underneath the crate, while Archie continued to tilt it upward.
"Yeah, you're right Archie." Hank said. "There's a lot of scrambled dirt underneath here. Looks like somebody might have been digging here, and then covered it over with the crate."
"Maybe something's buried here," Billy surmised. "Maybe that's why the dirt's loose."
Even when they talk separately, Billy and Hank have a hive mind. Hank points out that someone might have been digging where the crate was. Billy then points out the obvious reason why.
They push the crate aside and start digging with their hands, and eventually discover to their excitement, that it's a box.
Wow! Wowee! A box! A big, black, metal as fuck box! I can't wait!!
They notice the box has a handle, and try to pull it up.
"Lead?" Hank said. "That can't be! Let me have a try."
(...)
"Woo! You're right, Billy. There is something like lead in here. There must be."
More spot-on elderly dialog from our master wordsmith.
They give up on trying to lift it out of the hole, and decide there has to be a better way.
Seconds?! Surely you don't mean "minutes"?
"Yeah," Billy said. "I didn't think of that."
"Me neither," Hank said.
That's because you two never think of anything. Or do anything other than what Archie tells you to.
They pull dirt away from the front of the box and soon discover it has a combination lock on the front. Darn. But then Archie discovers something attached to the back of the box.
And the chapter ends there.
Really not that much stupid to make fun of. The writing continues to be bland but not hilariously so, there's not much dumb dialog, and for once the author shows a surprising amount of competence at portraying something: tunnel construction. Presumably that's a special interest of his, which is why Archie, Billy and Hank are well-versed in it.
The stupid will return though, so stick around!
