“Are you badly hurt?” was Ned’s first question.
“Just a broken arm,” Harry answered trying to speak very calmly, although the pain was now excruciating.
“Where are Frank and Jack?” was the next question.
Harry pointed toward the sloping passage.
“Trying to find a way out,” he answered.
“Were they here when you fell?” asked Jimmie. “If they were, why didn’t they set your broken arm? They understand first aid to the injured just as well as we do. Now, you drop right back on this nice, soft bed of granite and I’ll see if I can find something that will serve for splints. There ought to be something that can be used floating in the water.”
“I saw tree branches bobbing about there this afternoon,” Harry said, very faintly. “You may be able to find what you want.”
Jimmie darted away toward the entrance, and Ned began removing the bandage and the boy’s coat and shirtsleeve. His face brightened as he came to understand the extent of the injury.
“I was afraid of a compound fracture,” he said, “but this is all right. The flesh is badly swollen, but we’ll soon drive that away. Is it very painful?” he continued.
“It hurts like the dickens!” almost sobbed Harry.
“Why didn’t the boys fix it?” demanded Ned.
“Because,” answered Harry, “someone came to the edge of the pit and called down, and then ran away without giving us any help. We were all afraid he had gone away after some of the half-breeds, and so it seemed that the first thing to do was to get out of sight. After we got in here, they thought they could find their way out by following this tunnel and get to the camp.”
In a short time Jimmie returned with several pieces of wood from which splints were made, and then the boy’s arm was tenderly cared for.
“There!” Ned exclaimed at the conclusion of the operation, “now you’ll be all right in just no time!”
“It’s a good thing we’re all Boy Scouts, eh?” Jimmie chuckled. “And it’s a good thing, too, that one part of the education of a Boy Scout is the care of the injured.”
“I never realized before what an advantage it is,” Harry said with a faint smile. “I was beginning to think I’d have to remain here all night with the broken bones of that arm grinding together.”
“Isn’t it about time Jack and Frank were coming back?” asked Ned.
“They should have been here long ago,” replied Harry.
“I hope they haven’t met with any accident,” Jimmie put in. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he went on, “I’ll just take a slide down that incline and see if I can dig ’em up anywhere.”
“Perhaps you’d better let me go,” Ned advised.
“Aw,” Jimmie complained, “you always want to cop out all the fun!”
“Well, go on, then,” Ned laughed. “If you bump your head against a rock, or get dumped into a pool of water something like the one out there, you mustn’t blame me. Remember that I wanted to go.”
Jimmie approached the long incline, his electric pointing the way, and soon shouted back:
“This is all right! There’s a turn here, and the going is good. Come on in, you fellows. Mighty fine in here!” he went on.
Ned and Harry, the latter now fairly free from pain, made their way slowly to where Jimmie sat hunched up against the side of the wall.
“Cripes!” he exclaimed, “what makes it so wet in here?”
Then Harry explained how the old channel had been cleared of water.
“The boys must have been going some,” Jimmie put in. “But look here,” he went on, “suppose that old crevice you are talking about should clog or something of that kind? We’d be in a nice mixup down here, wouldn’t we?”
“Judging from the noise the water was making in getting out of the pool,” Ned suggested, “I don’t think there’s much show for the channel clogging. Our only danger from water is that outlaws may dam the present current and flood this channel once more. I don’t think there are any outlaws within a mile of us, but still, there’s always a chance of their having been summoned by the boy you saw this afternoon.”
“Look here!” Jimmie observed. “The boy they saw this afternoon is probably the one who came to the camp and told us where you were. I don’t believe he’d bring any outlaws here.”
“Not unless the outlaws desired to bag us all in one bunch,” Harry added with a smile. “That may be the idea, you know.”
“My,” chuckled Jimmie, “wouldn’t Gilroy throw a fit if the outlaws should come and find him sitting there holding the rope? I honestly believe that he’d drop dead with fright.”
“I believe I’ll take a walk—or a crawl, rather—out to the mouth of this damp old aqueduct and see what the fat confidential clerk is doing,” suggested Ned.
“I’ll bet you the Michigan Central Railroad against the Pennsylvania system,” Jimmie chuckled, “that Gilroy has his little old electric lamp trimmed and burning when you get there.”
Ned did not offer to accept the wager, but turned and made his way around the corner and up the long incline. Just as he reached the entrance a cry of terror came to his ears, followed almost immediately by a pistol shot and the fall of a heavy body.
Ned shivered as the unseen form thudded down the awful precipice, bounding, apparently, from one tiny ledge to another, and finally came, with a sickening crash, to the bottom! Only for an instant, however, did it lay on the rocks. There was a splash in the pool and then silence.
Almost shivering with dread, fearing that Gilroy had been shot and hurled from the lip of the cliff, Ned leaned against the wall and waited.
For a time there was no sound at all, and then came a succession of noises which indicated that some one was moving about at the top of the pool so close to the edge that stones dislodged by their feet were bumping down the incline. As the sounds came from two or three directions at once, the boy naturally concluded that the Devil’s Punch Bowl was fairly well surrounded. He looked long in the hope of discovering a light or a figure moving dimly against the expanse of stars, but nothing was seen.
The shot had attracted the attention of the boys in the passage, and Jimmie now came panting out to his chum’s side.
“What is it?” he asked almost breathlessly.
“There was a shot!” Ned answered. “And some one fell into the pit.”
“It must have been Gilroy, then!” Jimmie suggested.
“I’m afraid so,” was Ned’s anxious reply.
Jimmie listened for a short time and then started away, but Ned drew him back into the shelter of the opening.
“Remain where you are!” he whispered. “There are people moving all around the dip. They may try to come down.”
“So that foxy little messenger boy did give us away, did he?” asked Jimmie. “I thought he would all the time!”
“We don’t know yet whether he did or not,” Ned answered, still in a whisper. “The boy might have been followed when he came here, you know. I can’t believe yet that he intentionally led us into danger.”
“He always has!” argued Jimmie.
In a moment the rattle of stones was heard again, followed by an exclamation of dismay and a fall. It was such a fall as Ned had heard before—a long, bounding, awful fall, with a sickening crash as of broken flesh and bones at the last!
“Je-rusalem!” whispered Jimmie. “I should think they’d get tired of that after a while.”
“I wish I knew where Gilroy is,” Ned commented. “I heard him cry out in alarm just before the shot came, then followed the tumble from the top. I’m afraid it’s all up with Gilroy.”
“I should say it was all down with Gilroy if he tipped off that ledge,” Jimmie commented.
“Young man,” Ned said, “this is too serious a matter to joke about.”
“Anyway,” Jimmie continued, facetiously, “they wouldn’t have to shoot Gilroy to get him rolling down the incline. All they’d have to do would be to poke a finger and yell ‘scat!’ and away he’d go. Honest, Ned,” the boy continued, a little ashamed of his lack of reverence, “that Gilroy is the limit when it comes to getting scared!”
“You must remember,” Ned observed, “that this is all new to Gilroy.”
“All new!” repeated Jimmie. “I should say so. That fellow doesn’t know any more about rough-house than a pig knows about the tariff issue. Actually, Ned, I don’t believe he could rough-house a baby cart.”
While the boys were talking a faint light appeared at the top of the incline to the east. It wavered about aimlessly for a moment and then passed from view. It was not such a light as would be thrown by an electric torch but rather indicated the flaring of a match in the wind.
Two shots followed the showing of the tiny light, and then a perfect shower of stones rolled down the incline and splashed into the pool at the bottom.
“Gee!” whispered Jimmie. “If I ever get back to little old N. Y., I’m going to have a friend of mine paint this scene for a back-drop in the Devil’s auction! Wouldn’t it make a hit?”
“Jimmie,” Ned reprimanded, “I’d like sometime to see you plunged into a set of circumstances which would throw you into a serious mood.”
“Aw, what’s the use?” Jimmie returned. “All the wind-jamming I do here won’t make any difference with what’s going on out there on the pit.”
“I’d feel a good deal safer,” Ned said in a moment, “if I knew that Frank and Jack were safe. I am beginning to fear that they found an exit through the old passage, and, rather than make their way back up the incline, returned to the pit up the slope.”
“I never thought of that,” Jimmie answered very gravely. “Here I’ve been shooting off hot air at what’s going on, and Frank and Jack may be the ones who are getting the kibosh.”
As the boy ceased speaking, a bumping, swishing sound was heard, and then footsteps sounded in the pit.
“There!” Jimmie exclaimed. “Some one has come down the rope! Now, who is it? One of the boys, Gilroy or a half-breed?”
CHAPTER XVII
A WONDERFUL DISCOVERY
Frank and Jack, when they left Harry near the entrance to the old channel, passed down the incline afterwards followed by their chum and presently came to the turn in the passage. Here they paused for a moment to take note of the situation, and then passed down another incline, much steeper than the other.
“The water must have been going some when it reached this point,” Frank suggested. “Put in one straight drop, these tunnels would make Niagara look like thirty cents.”
“I wish it had worn a little larger passage,” Jack complained, sourly, crawling head foremost into the narrow passage, his flashlight held in advance. “Wouldn’t it be fun seeing Gilroy trying to crowd through here,” he added. “You could hear him puff for a mile!”
This last steep incline brought the boys to quite a large chamber in the rock. Their lights showed glistening spots in the wall, and they naturally stepped to examine them.
“Gold!” shouted Jack in a moment.
“You bet it’s gold!” Frank declared. “I guess I know gold when I see it. Look at it all around us!”
“It is my firm belief,” Jack almost shouted, “that we have struck the mother lode! This is the spot where the gold that is washed out in the placers comes from. Don’t you think so?”
“It may be,” answered Frank, “and I don’t wonder that the corporations at war with your father’s company are fighting for this hill.”
“I don’t believe they even know this gold is here,” Jack suggested.
“They may not know of this special deposit of gold,” Frank continued, “but I’ll tell you right now that they do know of a lot of other deposits.”
“Yes,” Jack returned, “if they didn’t know there was gold here in plenty, they wouldn’t be putting up such a scrap for the possession of the land. Corporations don’t fight for stone piles.”
The boys looked over every foot of the chamber, estimating the amount of virgin gold in sight, and almost unconsciously looking for some evidence that the place had been visited before their arrival. Before long Frank stumbled over a slight obstruction on the level floor of the chamber, and almost fell to his knees.
“What the dickens is coming off here?” he shouted.
“Hush!” warned Jack. “What’s the use of asking the question of the wide, wide world? We don’t know who may be within sound of our voices.”
“One thing I do know,” Frank grumbled, “and that is that I just about busted my big toe! Now what do you suppose that is?”
He stooped as he spoke and lifted what seemed to be a very crude iron pick from the floor. It was nearly a foot in length, with two sharp points, and in the eye between the two, at the center of the implement, were the remains of a wooden handle, rotted away during long years of disuse. The boys eyed it curiously.
“How’s that for a prehistoric implement?” asked Jack.
“It looks as though it might be five thousand years old,” Frank answered, taking the implement into his hand.
“It looks to me,” Jack declared, “like one of the cave-dweller tools one sees in the Smithsonian Institute at Washington. The scientists declare that such implements were used in the crude mining carried on thousands of years ago. They also state that they were used for beating up Indian corn and refractory wives.”
“Anyway,” Frank laughed, “the presence of the tool here shows that this chamber was never formed by the action of the water. Those old duffers hewed this out, gathering gold, with just such tools as this.”
“And they probably found a good many pounds of gold in every square foot they dug out!” replied Jack.
“Then, look here,” Frank said, “if they hewed out this chamber, they built the dam over the old crevice which turned the water into this channel. Can you imagine a better way of concealing millions of dollars worth of gold? I guess they were next to their jobs, all right!”
“I’ll tell you what it is,” Jack laughed, “when we get back to New York and tell Dad what we’ve discovered, he ought to buy us a transcontinental railroad apiece. We’ve earned it all right!”
Frank looked back toward the narrow incline, and again cast his searchlight over the chamber, which now seemed to them to be a perfect treasure house of virgin gold.
“Did it ever occur to you,” he said grimly, “that we’ve got to get out of this mess before we get back to New York?”
“Yes,” Jack replied, “and we’ve got to make our way out through the continuation of this passage. We couldn’t crawl back up that steep passage in a thousand years!”
“And Harry lays back there with a broken arm,” Jack added ruefully. “We should have taken the time to give the boy a little ‘first-aid’ before we started out on this excursion. He must be suffering.”
“Then the thing for us to do now is to keep plugging along until we get out into God’s free air again. If we can get out ourselves, we can go back to camp and get a coil of rope and boost Harry out over the edge of the pit. We never could get him through this tunnel anyway.”
“That’s the ticket!” Jack answered.
A narrow opening led from the chamber in which the boys had discovered the gold, and they followed this for a short distance only to find themselves confronted by a solid wall of rock. The tunnel seemed to end there!
“Now,” questioned Frank, “how did the water find its way out of this contraption? There must be a channel somewhere.”
Jack lowered his electric to the floor of the passage and then looked up to his chum with positive fright showing in his face.
“It went plumb down into a hole in the rock!” he said. “Here’s the hole and it isn’t large enough for a good sized terrier to crawl through.”
“Talk about getting up against the real thing!” grumbled Frank.
“Now you just wait a minute,” Jack suggested. “There’s a current of air here that doesn’t come through the passage by which we entered. It blows directly from the north.”
Eagerly the boys turned their lights toward the north wall.
“Here you are!” Frank shouted in a moment. “There’s another passage here and it’s been blocked up with stones! The cement with which the stones were sealed has dropped away, and the wind is coming through the cracks. This mine has been worked, all right!”
“What’s the matter with pulling the stones down?” asked Jack. “We ought to be able to do that.”
The boys brought all their strength to bear on one of the topmost stones, and it fell with a crash into the passage.
They were about to put their hands to another rock when Jack uttered an exclamation of alarm and drew Frank away.
“This seems to be the haunted mine all right!” the boy whispered, “There’s a light beyond this wall!”
Frank put his eye to the aperture, gave one look into the interior, and then sprang away.
“It’s a wood fire, too!” he whispered. “And there are half a dozen as ugly looking gnomes as you ever saw sitting around it. They must have heard us talking, or heard the stone when it fell, for they are looking this way. It seems to me,” he went on, “that this is one of the quietest little Boy Scout expeditions anyone ever heard of!”
“Shall we try the back passage?” asked Jack.
“We’ve got to try it!” Frank replied. “At least, we’ve got to get so far away from this chamber that they won’t see us if they come and look through the hole we made in the wall.”
“The danger is,” Jack decided, “that they have seen our lights or heard our voices. In that case, here are two Boy Scouts who won’t be apt to get out of the tunnel for a few hundred years.”
The heavy tread of footsteps and the sound of guttural voices speaking in a tongue with which the boys were unfamiliar were now heard on the other side of the broken wall, and the boys switched off their lights and started resolutely up the steep grade by means of which they had reached the spot. It was hard climbing and they made slow progress.
While they struggled up the hard slope, after passing the gold chamber, lights flashed in the darkness behind them and they lay flat on their faces, expecting every moment to hear the sounds of determined pursuit.
But the men who had been seen about the fire did not advance beyond the gold chamber. The boys heard them talking together for a moment, and then the sound of their voices died out.
“I guess they’ve gone back!” ventured Frank.
“I don’t believe they have,” replied Jack. “It’s just this way, you see,” he went on, “they would naturally expect to find a current of running water passing through the chamber. Well, we shut the water off, didn’t we? That, of itself, will render them suspicious, and they’ll keep up their investigation until they find the cause of the change in the stream. I only hope they won’t get up to the vicinity of the pit and find Harry before we get back to him!”
Stopping frequently to rest, the boys crawled on up the incline until they came to the angle which led to the first steep passage they had negotiated. By this time, their hands were bleeding from contact with the rough rocks, their breath was coming in short gasps.
Once around the angle, however, they stopped and lay motionless for a moment. Then Frank turned the eye of his searchlight upward. What he saw at the head of the incline caused him to grasp his companion fiercely by the shoulder and point with a trembling finger.
“If that isn’t a ghost up there,” he said, “it is Harry!”
“We never left Harry as far in the hill as that!” Jack suggested.
“Then it’s a ghost!” Frank insisted. “Anyway, there’s some one up there. I can’t see the whole figure, but I saw a white face for just an instant. It must be Harry!”
“Up we go, then!” Jack exclaimed.
The boys were not long kept in doubt as to the identity of the figure they had seen at the top of the incline. Before they had proceeded half a dozen paces, an electric light flashed out, and they saw Harry, evidently startled by the noise of their approach, looking toward them.
“It’s Harry, all right!” Jack said. “But that isn’t where we left him. He must have crawled down alone.”
“Perhaps there’s been a mixup on the outside,” Frank suggested.
The whispered conversation was interrupted by a soft call from above. The boys recognized the voice of their chum.
“Frank!” Harry whispered.
“All right!” Frank answered.
“Don’t make too much noise,” Jack suggested. “We’ve just made the discovery that the heart of this stony old mountain is inhabited.”
“Inhabited?” repeated Harry.
“That same!” answered Frank, dropping to the ground at the place where Harry sat. “It’s inhabited, and the inhabitants seem to be averse to our efforts as missionaries.”
The boys talked in low tones for a moment before Harry referred to the arrival of Ned and Jimmie. The excitement over the possible pursuit was so great that even this most important event was overlooked!
“Suppose they follow us up here!” Jack said in a breath. “We haven’t got any more guns than a rabbit!”
“Ned and Jimmie have guns,” Harry replied.
“Ned and Jimmie?” repeated both boys.
“Sure!” answered Harry. “You scared me so with your talk of mountain gnomes that I forgot to tell you that Ned and Jimmie came into the pit by way of a hempen elevator.”
“Where are they now?” asked Frank.
“They went out to see what the shooting was about!”
The two boys who had arisen to their feet at mention of their chums’ names now dropped flat on the rock.
“I’d like to know what else is coming off here tonight!” Frank exclaimed. “There’s a herd of cave dwellers chasing us up from behind, and a party of half-breeds trying to shoot us up from in front. Tell you what I’m going to do,” he went on, “I’m going to become a disciple of Gilroy. As soon as I get back to little old New York, I’m going to stay there!”
CHAPTER XVIII
JIMMIE FINDS A WAY
“That isn’t one of the boys,” Ned decided as a figure very faintly outlined under the stars approached the place where the two stood.
“Then it must be Gilroy!” Jimmie chuckled. “I guess he got sufficiently frightened to take a trip on our aerial elevator.”
“It’s Gilroy all right,” Ned whispered, in a moment, with a faint suspicion of a chuckle. “And if he hasn’t got the rope with him, I’m a goat!”
“I never heard of a man sliding down a rope and bringing the cord with him!” Jimmie laughed. “He must be a wonder!”
Directly the trembling voice of the fat confidential clerk was heard.
“Boys, boys!” he whispered.
“Right here!” Ned answered.
The uncertain figure shot toward the boys as if propelled from the muzzle of a gun. When he reached the spot where they stood, he collapsed utterly and lay groaning on the rocky floor of the entrance to the old channel.
“My God!” he cried. “My God!”
“What’s going on up there?” asked Ned.
“Murder!” whimpered the fat clerk. “There’s murder going on up there!”
“Who’s been killed?” asked Jimmie.
“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know!” was the reply. “I sat there holding the rope until I thought you’d deserted me, then I tied it to a point of rock and prepared to descend. Before I could do so, the whole surface of the ledge above the pit became covered with moving figures. They swarmed toward me and I threw myself flat on the ground. I shall never get over the scare I received!”
“Go on,” said Ned, impatiently.
“There must have been two parties, or two halves of the same party, coming in from different directions,” the confidential clerk continued, “for they fired shots at each other, and I heard one body go tumbling and grinding to the bottom of the pit. It was awful!”
“Then what?” asked Jimmie.
“Then they scuffled about for a time,” Gilroy went on, “and I heard more shots and some one else fell. To the end of my life I shall hear the grinding of his bones as he struck the rocks!”
“Did you hear any talk?” asked Ned.
“Oh, I don’t know!” was the answer. “I heard talk, but I can’t tell you what was said!”
“And then you slid down the rope?” Jimmie asked.
“Yes,” was the mournful reply, “and I shall never be able to hold a pen again. My hands are stripped to the bone.”
“But how did you manage to bring the rope with you?” asked Ned.
“I can’t tell,” was the answer. “I think I must have fallen the last few feet, for when I struck the rock the rope came tumbling down on my head. Suppose it had broken away before I reached the bottom,” he added with a shudder, “then I should have been lying out there where those other masses of crushed flesh are lying. It was horrible!”
Ned took the cord into his hand and examined it, being careful to step farther into the entrance as he did so, and to turn the light of his electric to the rear.
“The rope was cut!” he said shortly.
“My God!” gasped the fat clerk.
“Cheer up!” Jimmie whispered. “The entertainment has just commenced!”
“Let us get away from this awful place!” pleaded Gilroy.
“I’m agreeable,” Jimmie responded. “I’m not stuck on this job myself. Let’s go up to the office and get our time!”
“Keep still, you little grouch!” whispered Ned. “Gilroy is having troubles of his own just now. Don’t pester him.”
“Oh, well,” Jimmie said, “if my cheerful conversation isn’t appreciated here, I’ll go back and unload some of it on Harry.”
“Harry?” repeated Gilroy. “Is he in this nightmare, too?”
“Oh, Harry’s all right,” Jimmie answered, resolved to get in a parting shot at the frightened man. “Harry’s fine as a fiddle. He’s got a busted wing, and an annex on his steeple big enough to put a bell in. That’s all that’s the matter with Harry!”
“Say, Jimmie,” Ned interposed, “perhaps you’d better take Gilroy back to the place where we left Harry.”
“You come along, too, then!” the boy insisted.
“Perhaps I’d better remain here on the chance of some of the outlaws getting into the pit,” Ned suggested.
“According to all accounts, there’s two in the pit now,” Jimmie chuckled as he turned away. “Now, Gilroy,” he continued, taking the frightened man by the arm, “I’ll escort you into the chief’s office, and give you the third degree! I think you’ll learn to like this place!”
The two disappeared in the darkness, Jimmie wisely restraining an inclination to light the way with his electric. Ned remained at the entrance for some moments, listening for further evidences of an attack, but none came. Then he heard footsteps and heard a chuckle close behind.
“What do you think?” Jimmie asked. “Jack and Frank have crawled out of the bottomless pit and are back there trying to comfort Harry. As for Gilroy, he’s trying to send his sobs by wireless to New York.”
“What’s the use tantalizing Gilroy!” Ned said, unable to restrain a laugh. “You’ve got him so scared now that he doesn’t know which way is from him. Why don’t you let him alone?”
“I try to let him alone,” Jimmie replied with assumed gravity, “but when I think how fat he is, and how his face reminds me of a cold roast of veal, I just can’t help stirring him up a bit.”
“So Jack and Frank didn’t succeed in finding a route out by the dry channel?” asked Ned.
“I guess not,” Jimmie replied. “I didn’t stop to ask many questions, for I wanted to let you know that they were here.”
“I think,” Ned said after a moment’s silence, “that the war is over for tonight. There isn’t a whisper at the top of the cliff now.”
In order to make sure that the outlaws had indeed departed, Ned and Jimmie stood for some moments in the entrance just beyond the angle of the wall.
While they stood there a mellow mist of light filled the sky, revealing the sharp outlines of the ledge at the top of the pit.
“Perhaps they’re building a fire,” suggested Jimmie.
“The moon!” replied Ned.
“I’m mighty glad to see her!” Jimmie responded.
Ned looked at his watch under the hidden ray of a searchlight and went on:
“Eleven o’clock,” he said. “The moon must have been in view for some minutes.”
“Of course,” Jimmie answered. “It wouldn’t be shining on the western slope of this blooming old dump if it hadn’t.”
“In half an hour or so, then,” Ned said, “we may be able to learn whether the outlaws have indeed taken their departure.”
“You go on in and see Frank and Jack,” Jimmie suggested, “and take the rope with you. They want to tell you something they’ve discovered. They wouldn’t tell me, but I’m positive that they’ve blundered on a deposit of gold. They look happy enough to have found a million.”
“I hope they haven’t said anything about it to Gilroy,” Ned replied.
“Gilroy?” repeated Jimmie scornfully. “Why that fat dub is scared stiff. He wouldn’t know the Constitution of the United States from a declaration of war right now.”
“Don’t go to getting into any scrapes while I’m gone,” Ned advised, as he turned away toward the tunnel. “You stand right here and keep watch until I come back.”
“I won’t breathe aloud!” promised Jimmie.
The meeting between Ned and the other boys was a joyous one. Each had been worried over the disappearance of the other. As for Gilroy, he welcomed the assembling of the boys as an indication that he was soon to be taken out of the dangerous situation in which he found himself.
“Now, boys,” Ned said, after the greetings were over, “we’ve got to get Harry up the incline and out of the pit, so we may as well be at it.”
“According to Gilroy,” Harry smiled, “there’s a band of Bashi Bazooks up there ready to mix with you the minute you show your faces.”
“The killing of two of their number undoubtedly frightened them away,” Ned answered. “At any rate, the moon is rising now, and any danger which threatens may readily be detected. You must understand,” he went on, “that the outlaws who came to the Devil’s Punch Bowl expected to find you three boys lying dead at the bottom.”
“Why should they think that?” asked Harry.
“I’m going on the theory,” replied Ned, “that this crooked little messenger boy notified the outlaws where we were to be found before he came to lead us to the slaughter.”
“That’s just about what he did!” Jack interposed.
“In that case,” Ned continued, “When they saw no trace of us in the pit, they were ready to abandon their search, probably believing that the boy had deceived them.”
“I understand,” Frank cut in, “then they got into a mixup among themselves and, according to Gilroy, two were killed and the rest took a hot-foot for the cool chambers of the old mission.”
“That’s the way I look at it,” Ned said.
“Then we may as well be getting Harry out,” Frank suggested. “We’ll tie the rope under his arms, use our coats for a stretcher and pull him gently, yet firmly, up the tunnel until his back wears out and then we’ll turn him over.”
“I could walk up all right,” Harry insisted, “if the tunnel was only high enough for me to stand up in.”
“But it isn’t,” Jack returned. “We’ve all got to crawl on our hands and knees, and you never can do it with that bum wing of yours.”
“No,” Frank advised, “you never can climb up the tunnel with a broken arm. We’ll bundle you up in our coats, tie you tight like a mummy with the rope, and then pull you up. The floor of the tunnel is so smooth that you’ll think you’re out sleigh-riding on a winter night.”
This plan was followed, and the injured boy was landed at the entrance of the old channel with very little inconvenience.
The moon was higher in the heavens now, and its light illuminated not only the circle of jagged rocks which held the pit in their setting but also a portion of the depression itself. Ned searched the top with a field glass but found no evidence of enemies.
“The way is clear, I think,” he decided, “and the question now before the house is as to how we’re going to get that rope up.”
“Don’t be asking foolish questions,” Jimmie cut in. “Frank and Jack wormed their way down here, didn’t they?”
“Indeed we did,” Jack answered, “and came very near breaking our necks half a dozen times!”
“Then I can worm my way up!” Jimmie insisted. “Here,” he went on, “you see that crooked corner of rock twenty or thirty feet up? Well, just throw the rope over that and I’ll get up that far anyway. I think I can see resting places for the rope at intervals all the way up. I’m the original aerial climber!”
“We don’t want another boy with broken limbs,” suggested Frank.
“If I get a tumble,” Jimmie advised, “you won’t have any trouble picking me up. You can carry me home in your pockets.”
The mode of climbing the precipice suggested by the lad was not so difficult as it at first appeared to be. With the aid of the rope, a strong arm, and infinite daring, the boy soon reached the lip of the pit and the rest was easy, when all were at the top, Jimmie reminded his companions that they had paid no attention to the bodies of the two men who had fallen over the precipice.
In spite of the protests of the others, the little fellow insisted on swinging down the rope, now stretching from top to bottom, and making a search for the two bodies. When he returned to the top, his face was a little paler than usual, and he started away without a word.
“Who are they?” asked Ned, provoked at the boy’s silence.
“One of them is the man called Huga by the fellows in the old mission cave,” he answered, “and the other is just a common mucker.”
“With Huga dead,” Ned said, “the way is easier.”
CHAPTER XIX
A BOY SCOUT ENCOUNTER
When the boys started back over the long and difficult route to the camp, the moon was shining brightly on the mountains. There were no indications of strife anywhere. There were no sounds to break the stillness save those made by the boys in their passage over the loose rocks.
They had proceeded only a short distance when Jimmie darted away from the group and disappeared behind a crag which jutted out to the west. Ned and the others stopped in their tracks and looked about in wonder and perplexity.
“What’s that little monkey up to now?” asked Frank rather impatiently.
“He may be trying to get a rabbit for breakfast,” Jack replied with a grin. “We haven’t had anything to eat for a long time, you know, and I presume that Jimmie is about ready to make a meal out of granite.”
“Well,” Ned said in a moment, “we’ll go right on and leave the little rascal to his own devices. If he gets a squirrel for breakfast, we’ll help him eat it, and that’s the best we can do!”
The boys had proceeded but a short distance when a sound which startled them as no other could have done at that particular time reached their ears. It was the high, quavering, vicious call of the wolf pack!
The boys paused again and scattered, each one taking a few steps away from the common center. As for Gilroy, he squatted flat on the ground and covered his fat face with trembling fingers.
“Wolves!” he cried. “Oh, my God, wolves!”
While feeling sympathy for the man lacking entirely in physical courage, Ned could not restrain a burst of laughter.
“Is that Jimmie?” Jack asked in a moment.
“I should say not!” answered Frank. “Jimmie hasn’t got a tenor voice to that extent. That’s not Jimmie!”
“Then it’s that treacherous rat of a messenger boy!” Harry declared.
“Answer him, some one!” Frank advised, “and we’ll get our hands on him.” It was not necessary for one of the group to answer the call, for in a moment, almost like an echo, the answer came from behind the boulder where Jimmie had secreted himself.
“That’s Jimmie!” cried Frank. “Now do you suppose that little rat saw Norman before we heard the call?”
“It seems that he did,” answered Ned. “Jimmie rather favored the boy at first but now there’ll be a mixup if they meet.”
“Then I hope they’ll meet,” grumbled Frank. “Just look at the trouble that boy has made for us since we’ve been here. He’ll get his!”
Seeing the boys standing so unconcerned and talking so coolly, Gilroy looked up with a little less alarm showing in his face, and finally arose to his feet. His knees were trembling so that they almost bent under him.
“Did you hear it?” he asked in a shaking voice. “Did you hear the wolf calling to his mates? There’ll be a pack here directly. I know, because I had an experience with wolves when I was sent into the Dakotas on business by Mr. Bosworth. Why don’t you boys do something?”
“That was the call of the wolf pack all right!” Frank exclaimed. “But the wolves it summoned were only Boy Scouts of the Wolf Patrol.”
Gilroy seemed overjoyed at the information, and even ventured on toward the rock from which the last call had proceeded.