CHAPTER VI.
MARTIN MUDD HEARS SOMETHING DROP.
Dick gave himself up for lost. The whole thing had struck him so suddenly that he had scarcely time to realize what it all meant when he was in the lake, half crushed in the sinuous folds of that awful neck.
But a change was close at hand.
Dr. Dan’s second bullet struck the monster on the neck, just below the head.
What damage it did it is impossible to say, but it must have caused the creature some pain, for it instantly unwound itself from Dick’s body, the neck twisting and turning like a boa constrictor’s; all in an instant Dick found himself free, for the blanket was unwound by the twisting of the Plesiosaurus and Dick, in his shirt and trousers and stocking feet, swam away for dear life.
The Plesiosaurus made no attempt to reach out for him apparently, or, if it did, Dick knew nothing about it, but he swam on, possessed of the horrible fear of feeling those great teeth dug into his legs.
Nothing of the sort happened, but something else did, almost as serious.
Before he knew it Dick found himself suddenly caught in some undercurrent which seemed to draw him along with frightful rapidity down deeper and deeper into the lake.
Dick was a splendid swimmer—it would have been difficult to find a better one in a boy of his age.
He tried to turn aside out of the current to rise to the surface—to do anything to escape that awful suction, but it was all no use.
Naturally he gave himself up for lost and he surely would have been if relief had not come in a moment, for all at once Dick’s head came up out of the water, although he had sunk to a great depth.
But the suction continued and the current ran just as swiftly.
It was pitch dark. Dick could not make out where he was, but the rushing of the water seemed to be echoed back from rocks, which were close at hand, so he assumed that he must be in some cave.
On he flew—on—on for fully ten minutes. He had thrown himself on his back now and was resting comfortably enough, but, try all he would, he could not turn out of that terrible current, for he was in the subterranean outlet of the lake, one of those underground streams often found in the far West.
Dick had read enough about them to realize the situation, and as he knew perfectly well that many of these underground streams never come to the surface, the prospect was anything but encouraging.
All at once the strength of the current seemed to slacken—a little further on it grew less still until at last there was scarcely any movement at all and just then, to his great joy, Dick caught sight of a patch of moonlight striking across the water on ahead, which showed him the black, dripping walls of the cave.
“There’s an opening there,” he thought. “I’m saved if I can only get through it. I must. If it isn’t big enough to let me through I shall give up in despair.”
His heart almost stood still as he thought of this new danger, but he swam on and in a moment was crawling through a narrow opening, which brought him out upon a ledge of rock under some towering cliffs, where he sank down too much exhausted to hold his head up, and lay so for several moments, when all at once he was aroused by hearing a voice below him say:
“They are coming! I can see them. It’s just Bill and the girl.”
“Ah, but I can’t see nothing—hold on! I’m lying. I do see them. Yes, it’s just Bill and the girl, as sure as fate, Mr. Mudd.”
The pronouncing of the name put Dick on the alert instantly.
The two men, whoever they might be, seemed to be just below the ledge upon which he was resting.
He crawled to the edge and looked down.
Now, for the first time, he perceived his true situation.
He had come out on the side of the mountain. Far below him lay the sand hills, bathed in moonlight, extending off in the distance as far as he could see, while directly at his feet ran a narrow trail, which seemed to go winding higher up the mountain, passing under the shelf.
Away down the trail he could see two figures mounted upon horses making their way up the mountainside, but he could not, from his position, make out just where the two men were standing, although he could hear their voices plain enough.
Was it really the man Martin Mudd?
It seemed so strange that he should have dreamed about him and that his dream should come out partially true like this.
Dick craned his neck over the rock as far as he dared, catching sight of the men at last as they stood there leaning against the wall directly underneath the overhanging ledge.
It was Martin Mudd, sure enough. The moon shone directly upon him, and, although the glance was a brief one, Dick could see him plainly.
He pulled back quick and crouched upon the rock, listening, for Mudd had begun to talk again.
“Yes, Tony,” he was saying, “this is a case of revenge upon the old man in part and a case of true love for the other part. You may think me looney, but I actually have fallen in love with Clara Eglinton and I am determined to make her my wife.”
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed the concealed Tony. “Your wife! Why, she might as well be the wife of a coyote. Ho! Ho! Ho!”
“What do you mean, you pigeon-breasted tenderfoot!” cried Mudd. “I’d have you to understand I am about to come into a fortune. As soon as I put a knife into Dick Darrell’s heart I collect $10,000. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. Call me a coyote, indeed.”
Dick was lost in amazement. For the life of him he couldn’t imagine what it all meant.
“Who in the world wants me out of the way?” he thought again and again, as he listened to still further conversation about mines and mining, which did not interest him at all.
All this time the two figures on the horses were coming steadily on up the trail.
Mudd was evidently watching through a night glass, for once he made a remark about its being misty. At last he suddenly exclaimed:
“Here they are. Lay low, Tony. You jump in and pretend to seize Bill. I’ll take care of the girl.”
Dick stood up, clutching a heavy stone in each hand.
“Halt, there!” shouted Tony, suddenly springing out of his concealment as the forward horse came around the turn in the rocks.
“Miss Clara, your most obedient,” said Martin Mudd, also stepping out into view. “Sorry to detain you on your way to join your father at the mine, but I have a little business to transact with you.”
The girl screamed.
Bill pretended to resist and did some threatening, but yielded to Tony without a struggle just the same.
“Get off the horse,” cried Mudd. “Now, then, no nonsense, my dear; you are in my power. Unless something drops I——”
“Here it is,” cried a voice above them, and Dick Darrell jumped down from the shelf above still clutching the stones in his hands.