The Curse of the Blue Figurine Read Online Free Page B

nameless saints with swords and palms in their hands. At the top of the screen there were only three statues. These three were angels. One held a trumpet; one held a sword and shield; and one held a golden censer on a chain.
    Johnny went on staring at the altar screen for a while. Then he went over to the iron vigil-light rack that stood near the confessional. He lit a candle for his mother, and then he walked down the side aisle and out into the vestibule again. Cautiously Johnny pushed the main door of the church open. He didn't open it far, just a crack. Darn! Eddie was still there!
    Johnny let the door fall softly shut. Now what was he going to do? Gramma would be expecting him—he couldn't stay here forever. There was a back way out, but you had to go up into the sanctuary and out through the sacristy to get to it. And only Father Higgins and the altar boys and the sisters were allowed to go out that  way. If Father Higgins caught him going through the sacristy, he would have a fit. Johnny stood, pondering, in the dark vestibule. He felt frustrated; he felt trapped. Then suddenly he had a very strange and interesting idea. He would go have a quick look in the basement.
    Johnny grinned. He was a well-behaved kid most of the time, but he wasn't all that well behaved. Like most kids he enjoyed poking around in places that were forbidden. And he knew he was alone—there wasn't anybody in the church but him. Now was the time!
    Quickly Johnny walked down to the far end of the vestibule. Now he was standing under the belfry. Overhead was a wooden ceiling with holes in it: the bell ropes hung through the holes. There was the dark, varnished wooden staircase that led up to the choir loft. And under the staircase, set in a paneled wall, was a narrow door with a black china knob. It led down to the basement. Johnny paused. He was thinking about the ghost of Father Baart. What if he appeared now? Or what if he suddenly materialized in the dark basement? Johnny shrugged and forced himself to smile. Hadn't Grampa told him that the professor's story was really a lot of hooey? Sure. There was nothing to worry about.
    Johnny put his hand on the knob. He twisted, and the door opened easily. Mr. Famagusta, the janitor, was supposed to keep this door locked. But, as Johnny well knew, Mr. Famagusta was a rather careless man. Johnny put his foot on the first step, and then he pulled it back. He needed something... ah! There it was! The flash- light! Johnny had heard Mr. Famagusta say that there was no electric light in the church basement. And, sure enough, on a little dusty ledge near the door was a small and rather battered flashlight. Johnny picked it up, snapped it on, and started down.
    The flight of creaky steps turned once at a wooden landing and went on down to a hard-packed dirt floor. Johnny played the flashlight beam around. Some rickety shelves had been built into the wall underneath the steps. He saw a silver censer that was so tarnished that it looked black. A grimy, cobwebbed box that said AD ALTARE DEI INCENSE. A headless plaster statue of some saint. A glass tumbler full of cassock buttons. A pipe wrench and a section of brass pipe, left—no doubt—by the careless Mr. Famagusta.
    Johnny played the beam back into the darkness of the basement. He saw the brick pillars that held up the floor of the church. Beyond the first row of pillars was a stack of tabletops. Leaning against the stack was a raffle wheel, the kind they used for the turkey raffles at Thanksgiving time. And in the shadowy distance he could see the big sooty iron furnace that heated the church in the wintertime. Johnny sighed. The whole place was a lot less interesting than he had hoped it would be. He pointed the beam of the flashlight here and there. Without much interest he noticed a bookcase with warped, sagging shelves. The top shelf was empty, but the second shelf held a row of thick, black volumes. Johnny reached for one of the books, but he jerked