CHAPTER XIII
In the Depths of the Earth
Joe Hardy still had the iron bar in his hand. He had not relinquished his grip on it.
"That's what caused all the trouble," he said to himself. The sight of the bar reminded him of Frank, still imprisoned back in the tunnel. He knew Frank would have heard the crash and would be wondering what had happened.
"I may as well set him free first and then we can reason out what we are going to do."
He turned and, dragging the heavy bar behind him, made his way to the opening of the tunnel. When he reached it he crouched down and proceeded into the passage.
With the flashlight illuminating the way, he went on toward the place where his brother was imprisoned. He found that the collapse of the shaft had shaken the entire mine. Bits of rock and heaps of earth and dirt along the floor of the tunnel testified to the shock of the cave-in. But when he came to the place where the tunnel turned to the right, he found, to his surprise, that the turning had vanished.
Instead, there was a solid wall of rocks and boulders ahead of him!
At first, Joe could not believe his eyes. Then realization dawned on him. The collapse of the shaft had shaken loose the boulders and rocks that lined the tunnel at this point and they had fallen down to block the passage.
He stared incredulously at the rocky wall ahead of him. He was cut off completely from his brother. Then he shouted:
"Frank!"
There was no answer. His shout echoed and re-echoed in the narrow space of the tunnel.
He shouted again and again, but the echoes were his only answers. Once he thought he heard a faint cry from beyond the wall, but he could not be sure. Communication had been cut off. He realized that his peril was doubled now. With the shaft blocked, with the passageway blocked, he was imprisoned underground in a small space, where the air would soon become foul and where suffocation would eventually end his life. He set his flashlight on the floor of the tunnel, seized the iron bar, and set to work to remove the blockade.
The task seemed hopeless. The rocks were piled up deeply and were so large and so tightly jammed together that it seemed impossible to remove them. Joe knew that if the roof of the tunnel had completely fallen in there would be little hope, as rock would continue to fall as fast as he removed the rock from underneath.
He pried away a huge boulder at the top of the heap and stood to one side as he exerted all the leverage of the iron bar. The great rock wavered, then rolled down the side of the heap into the open tunnel. Joe waited anxiously.
To his relief there was no crash of rock from the top of the tunnel. The removal of the boulder had left a small opening.
He shouted again:
"Frank! can you hear me?"
A surge of gladness passed over him when he heard his brother's voice in reply:
"I hear you. What's happened?"
"The shaft caved in."
"The main shaft?"
"Yes."
"I heard the crash. I shouted to you but I didn't hear any answer. Are you hurt?"
"No. I'm all right. I jumped back just in time."
"Where are you now? Can't you reach me?"
"The tunnel caved in, too. I'm trying to dig my way through to you."
There was a moment of silence. Clearly, the news came as a surprise to Frank.
"That's bad," he said, at last. "Do you think you can get through?"
"I think so. I have the crowbar with me." Joe attacked another rock on the heap, edging the end of the crowbar into a crevice.
"How bad is the cave-in?"
"Very bad. The whole shaft went."
"That means we'll not be able to get out of here."
"We may find a way."
"Well, try to get through to me first. Then we'll see what we're to do."
Joe continued his labors at the rock pile. One by one he managed to dislodge heavy rocks and boulders until at last he had cleared away an aperture of sufficient extent to admit the passage of his body. He shoved the crowbar ahead of him and crawled over the remaining rocks.
Within a few minutes he had reached his brother, who was lying in the same position in which Joe had last seen him.
"How's the foot?"
"All right," Frank answered. "It isn't hurting any. See what you can do with that crowbar."
Joe inserted the end of the crowbar beneath the boulder, resting the middle of the bar on the boulder beneath. Then, exerting all his strength, he weighed down on the bar.
Slowly, gradually, the great rock began to move.
"It's giving way!" cried Frank. "Just a little more—a little more!"
By means of the bar and the principles of leverage Joe was able to apply much more strength to the removal of the boulder than if he had tried to move it with his bare hands. He shifted his grasp, bore down on the bar again, and the great boulder rose higher.
"Good," declared Frank, dragging himself forward. "I'm free."
He extricated his foot from the crevice and Joe lessened his weight on the bar. The boulder fell back into place again. But Frank was no longer a prisoner.
"That's that!" Frank ejaculated, scrambling to a sitting position and beginning to rub his ankle to restore circulation. "I'm out of that little jam, anyway, thanks to you and that crowbar."
Joe sat down on a near-by rock.
"We're up against a worse dilemma now," he said.
Frank looked grave.
"I know it. Still, there may be a way out. You say there's no use trying to get back up the shaft?"
"None at all. The whole place caved in with a crash."
"What caused it?"
"That crowbar had evidently been left there to prop up a weak place in the side of the shaft, and when I moved it, the whole thing gave way. Some of the rocks came tumbling out, and then the side of the shaft caved in. If I hadn't jumped back in the nick of time my goose would have been cooked. There must be a couple of tons of rock in the shaft now."
"We couldn't dig our way through?"
Joe shook his head. "We'd be wasting time trying. I guess the only thing we can hope for is that somebody heard the crash and comes to see what happened."
"But they don't know we're down here."
"That's true, too. And they won't be very likely to start clearing away the shaft unless they know we're here. This mine was abandoned a long time ago, by the looks of things."
"They might see our footprints up to the side of the shaft."
"It was snowing when we came here. They may be covered over by now."
The boys were silent. They realized that their plight was almost hopeless. In the cold, dark depths of the earth, with their air supply cut off, they were facing suffocation, exposure and starvation, and there seemed not the slightest possibility of escape.
"The only thing to do," said Frank, at last, "is to keep on following this tunnel. There's no use going back into the mine itself."
"No, there's no use going back. But to my mind I don't think there's any use going ahead, either. This tunnel probably ends in a blank wall."
"We might as well find out. We won't do ourselves any good by just sitting here and waiting to die." Frank got to his feet and picked up his flashlight. "Better turn out your light," he advised. "We need only one light at a time and we might as well be saving the batteries."
Joe got up and did as his brother had suggested.
Frank went on down the passage, followed by Joe. The boys felt in their hearts that there was very little hope that the passage would lead anywhere, but it seemed to be the only possible avenue of escape. They recognized that it was only a "drift" that the miners had dug and blasted away from the main workings in an effort to discover a vein of gold, and the fact that it had not been further developed seemed to indicate that the search had been unsuccessful and that the drift had been abandoned.
"I wish we had told dad exactly where we were going to go to-day," said Frank as they went slowly on down the tunnel.
"So do I. There'd be a chance for us then. They'd send some one out to look for us, and then they could start to work clearing away that shaft."
"Well, we can be thankful we weren't in the shaft when it collapsed."
"Yes, it could have been worse. If I had been caught in the cave-in you would be lying under that boulder yet."
"We still have a chance as long as we have that crowbar and can keep moving." Frank paused. "By the way, do you feel a draft?"
"Seems to me I do feel cold air!"
"Perhaps there is an opening to this tunnel. This seems promising."
The rush of cold air about their heads was soon quite evident. The boys' spirits rose forthwith and they proceeded through the tunnel more cheerfully.
"If air can get into this place we should be able to get out of it," said Frank. "Perhaps this tunnel is just another entrance to the mine."
"Let's hope so."
They continued, Frank flashing the light before him. The tunnel began to grow narrower. They had to crouch almost double in order to avoid bumping their heads on the rocky roof.
"Another minute or so and we'll know whether this place has an opening or not," called back Frank.
"It must have an opening! Where would that fresh air we feel be coming from if it hadn't one?"
"It might be coming through a small slit in the rocks. We can't depend on it too much. Ah! Here we are!"
His light had disclosed the fact that they were at the end of the tunnel. But his tones immediately changed to a murmur of disappointment when he saw that the tunnel ended in a sheer wall of cold, wet rock.
The boys crouched in silence gazing at the rock wall that seemed to crush all their hopes. The wall was a barrier that cut them off from all chance of reaching the sun-lit, outside world again.
"It's a blind alley!" said Joe, in a hushed voice.
Frank merely nodded. He had been buoying up his hopes by refusing to admit to himself that the tunnel could be anything else than an outlet to the mine. Now he was overwhelmed by disappointment.
"We're up against it," he said at last. "This tunnel leads nowhere and the shaft is blocked."
"I'm afraid so."
Joe tapped the crowbar tentatively against the wall of rock. It thudded dully. There was no hollow sound that might indicate another tunnel beyond. The dull ring of the iron bar seemed to sound their death-knell.
"I guess this is our finish, Frank," he said gravely.
CHAPTER XIV
Attacked by the Outlaws
The Hardy boys were so profoundly discouraged by the discovery that the tunnel, their sole hope of safety, ended in nothing but a blank wall of rock, that for a while they sat in the gloom, scarcely speaking. Their plight was perilous and there seemed not the slightest ray of hope.
At last Frank bestirred himself.
"I'm still thinking of that gust of fresh air we felt farther back in the tunnel!" he said.
"There is fresh air coming in somewhere. The air in here isn't getting foul."
"Let's go back and explore the tunnel again. We might find an opening of some kind."
"It won't be big enough for us to get through," predicted Joe, gloomily.
"Well, we'll go and see, anyway."
The boys turned back. Frank took the lead again and they moved on. The flashlight cast its bright circle of illumination on the dank rock walls of their prison as Frank explored every inch of the sides of the tunnel. For a while their scrutiny met with no reward. The tunnel was unbroken by crevice or cranny.
"We must have passed the place by now," said Joe.
"I don't think so. We'll keep on trying."
At last Frank gave an exclamation of satisfaction. He had felt a sudden rush of cold air against his face. It seemed to come from above and he stopped, flashing the light hither and thither.
"It's around here somewhere."
"I can feel the draft. There must be a big opening."
The circle of light ceased wavering and rested finally on a place at the side of the tunnel, toward the roof. It was just a dark patch, an indentation in the rock, but it was quite large and it seemed to indicate an opening of some kind. It was about five feet from the ground.
"I'll hold the light," Frank said. "See if you can clamber up and investigate that place, Joe."
He stepped back and directed the flashlight so that Joe was able to find a convenient foothold. Joe reached up and secured a grasp on the edge of the natural shelf of rock. Then he managed to scramble up the wall until he swung himself over the ledge. Frank stepped back farther and the light plainly revealed his brother kneeling on the rocky shelf.
"Find anything?" he asked.
"There's a powerful draft of air coming down through here," said Joe, in tones of suppressed excitement. "I think this is a sort of tunnel or air shaft through the rock. I'll turn on my own flashlight."
In a moment Frank could see the glow of his brother's light reflected from the rocks above. Then he heard Joe give a lusty shout of delight.
"It leads on up!" he called. "It is a tunnel running at an angle, and I think it goes to the surface."
"Can you see any light?"
"No. Nothing. But I think it won't hurt to explore it. By the force of the cold air rushing down through here I think it must lead to the top."
"I'm coming up."
Joe disappeared up into the tunnel and Frank, putting his flashlight into his pocket, scrambled up to the shelf of rock. There he knelt and turned on the light again.
He could see Joe ahead of him, crawling on up through the narrow passage. The tunnel in the rock was just as Joe had described it, a long, narrow shaft that led upward at a steep slope. It was not so steep that they would not be able to clamber on up to wherever it might lead.
"Go ahead," he called out. "I'll follow you."
"I hope it doesn't get narrower up ahead."
"We'll go as far as the tunnel lets us."
The two boys began crawling up the rocky shaft. Joe called back:
"It's widening out!"
And, truly, the shaft became gradually wider until the boys could almost stand upright in it. The draft of cold air blew against them with great force and roared and whistled down the tunnel. Suddenly Joe stopped and waved the flashlight back and forth.
"There's a drop here."
Frank joined him. There was room enough now for them to stand side by side, and the wavering flashlights showed them that they stood at the end of the tunnel and that it opened into a chamber of rock similar to the mine working they had first entered.
"Look, Joe! I think I see a glow of light away over there. Turn off your flash."
The flashlights were switched off and the brothers stood in total darkness. When their eyes became accustomed to the absence of the electric glow, they saw that almost directly across from them was a faint, bluish grey reflection of light.
"We've found our way into another mine," said Frank. "That must be the light from the shaft. There's a chance for us yet."
He switched on his light again and flashed it into the rocky chamber into which the tunnel led. They found that they stood but a few feet above the floor of the mine working, so they promptly leaped down and then began a cautious walk across the cavern. The floor was rough and strewn with chipped masses of rock which showed that mining had once gone on there, and once they stumbled over a pick that some one had left behind when the working was abandoned.
They drew closer to the light that emanated from the shaft, and at last their flashlights revealed a crude ladder leading up the wall. Here they were met by another rush of cold air. The draft created by the tunnel leading into the other mine was severe and the wind whistled about the cavern. At the bottom of the shaft the Hardy boys looked up.
The ladder led up a distance of about twenty feet, and they could see the blue sky above. The sight made them sigh with relief. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from them.
"Up you go," said Frank. "We'll be out of here in no time, now."
"I'll say we're lucky."
"I never thought we'd see daylight again. The old sky looks pretty good, doesn't it?"
"Never looked so good to me before."
Joe put his foot on the first rung of the ladder. Although the mine had evidently been deserted many years before, the ladder leading down into the shaft still held firm. Slowly he began to ascend.
Frank came behind. Each was filled with relief that they had escaped imprisonment in the abandoned mine, imprisonment that might easily have meant a wretched death. The cold wind about their faces was like the breath of life to them.
Suddenly Joe stopped.
"Listen!" he whispered.
They remained still. Then, from above, at the top of the shaft, they could hear voices.
"That cave-in must have finished them," some one was saying. "The whole shaft is gone."
"They might have found their way out," replied another voice. "These two mines lead into each other."
"I didn't know that."
"Yes—there's a tunnel leading down into their main drift."
"Oh, those kids would never find it. Probably they were crushed to death by the cave-in, anyway."
The voices died away as the men evidently moved back from the neighborhood of the shaft-head.
"Some one has been looking for us," said Joe, in a low voice.
"They've given us up for dead. They'll get a surprise when we pop up out of the ground. Evidently they weren't going to try to dig us out. Go on up."
Joe resumed his climb and in a few minutes he emerged above ground, stepping off the top of the ladder to a rickety platform covered with snow. Frank scrambled up beside him, and then the two brothers stared in amazement at what they saw.
Three rough-looking men were standing only a few yards away. One was a tall, surly chap in a short, fur coat. He was badly in need of a shave and his brutal chin and heavy jowls were black with a stubble of beard. The other two were short and husky of build. One was clean-shaven and thin-featured, the other had a reddish mustache. About the waist of one of the men, the thin-featured fellow, was a belt with a holster from which projected the butt of a revolver. The three were villainous in appearance.
As though some sixth sense warned the men that they were observed, they whirled about and confronted the Hardy boys.
The men were as surprised as the lads. Both Frank and Joe realized that there was something unsavory about the strange trio and when they saw the thin-featured man suddenly reach for his revolver they knew that they were confronting not friends, but enemies.
"That's them!" shouted the man in the fur coat excitedly. "Grab them!" And with that he began to run toward the two boys. "No shooting!" he shouted to the thin-featured fellow, who promptly shoved his revolver back into the holster.
"Run for it," muttered Frank.
He wheeled about and commenced to run down the hillside in the general direction of the town.
The snow was deep and it hampered their movements, but the pursuers also experienced this handicap. Frank and Joe were exhausted by their gruelling experience in the mine and they were unable to make good progress. The man in the fur coat came leaping after them, ploughing through the snow recklessly. He gained rapidly on them.
"Stop or we'll shoot," he roared.
This was but a bluff, and the Hardy boys recognized it as such. They raced madly on through the deep snow that clung to their limbs and held them back. Joe was lagging behind, unable to keep up the pace. The man in the fur coat was only a few feet back of him. The fellow leaped ahead and sprang at Joe in a football tackle that brought the boy down. The pair went rolling over and over in the snow, kicking and scrambling.
Frank stopped and turned back. He could not desert his brother and he was prepared to be captured with him at the expense of his own freedom. He met the thin-faced man, who led the other pair of pursuers, with a slashing blow in the face that knocked the man off his balance so that he tumbled backward into the snow with a grunt of pain and amazement. The short, stocky man came on with a growl. Frank swung and missed; then his attacker closed with him and they struggled to and fro in the snowbank.
His assailant twined one foot about Frank's leg and they toppled over into the snow. By that time the thin man had scrambled to his feet and again launched himself into the struggle. Frank Hardy was completely overpowered.
He was dragged roughly to his feet, his arms gripped behind his back. Joe had been no match for his more powerful antagonist and he too had been forced to submit to capture.
The trio held the boys in their power.
"What'll we do with 'em?" asked the thin-faced man gruffly.
"Bring 'em back to the mine first," said the fellow in the fur coat. "I guess the boss will want to see these birds."
Frank and Joe were roughly bundled up the hillside again by their captors. All the time Frank's mind was in a whirl. Who were these three men? Why had they attacked them? Why had they been hunting for them in the first place? And who was "the boss" they spoke of?
In due time they reached the shaft-head again and there the man in the fur coat faced them.
"Who are you two boys?" he demanded.
"Who are you?" countered Frank.
"That doesn't matter. What's your names?"
"Tell us yours first."
"What were you doing in that mine?"
"What did you attack us for? Why are you keeping us here?"
The man in the fur coat became impatient at receiving questions instead of answers.
"Are you the Hardy boys?" he asked. "Sons of that detective?"
"Try and find out."
"We'll find out, all right," declared the man in the fur coat threateningly. "We'll take you to somebody that'll make you talk."
"You'd better let us go or the whole three of you will find yourselves in jail," said Frank.
The man laughed shortly.
"No fear," he said. "Not in Lucky Bottom, at any rate." He turned to the other two men. "Keep these boys here," he ordered. "I'll be back in a while. Don't let them get away!"
"Where are you going, Jack?" asked the thin-faced man.
"I'm going to get Black Pepper. He'll make these birds talk."
With that the fellow stalked away through the snow. Frank and Joe glanced quickly at one another. They knew now the explanation of their capture. They were in the hands of three members of the gang of the notorious Black Pepper, the outlaw.
CHAPTER XV
The Trap
The man of the thin features produced the revolver from its holster and sat down on a snow-covered rock near the top of the shaft. He held the weapon negligently, but there was no doubt that he could level it at the Hardy boys in a second if they attempted to escape.
"You can sit down if you want," he said. His partner still retained a tight grasp on Frank. "Let him go, Shorty. I've got this gun here and I guess they won't try to get away. We may as well be comfortable."
The fellow addressed as "Shorty" moved away from Frank and sat down by his companion. The Hardy boys found a heap of rocks near by and seated themselves. They knew there was no use of attempting to escape as long as that ugly-looking revolver was in the hand of their captor.
"Say, Slim," remarked Shorty, "do you think Black Pepper is at the camp?"
The other man nodded.
"Yeah! He came back this morning."
Slim looked up at the Hardy boys.
"What were you guys lookin' for in that mine, anyway?"
"Oysters," replied Frank, with a grin.
"None of your funny stuff," rapped out Slim. "We'll make you talk soon enough. We know what you're after."
"What did you ask us for, then?" asked Joe.
The outlaws were silent. They saw that nothing was to be gained by seeking information from the lads. They were content to await the return of Black Pepper and their companion Jack.
Frank and Joe Hardy sat on the snow-covered rocks in silence. Slowly Frank put his hand behind his back and began to grope about among the rocks. He knew that they were loose and that they were of various sizes. The idea had occurred to him that if he could but use one of them as a weapon he might be able to disarm Slim and perhaps effect his escape and that of his brother.
Bit by bit he groped about. One rock was too large for him to grasp. Another was too small to be of any use. Finally his hands closed about a good-sized stone that came from the rest of the pile without much difficulty.
He calculated the distance and eyed the revolver warily. Frank had been pitcher on the Bayport high school nine and the accuracy of his aim had often been the despair of opposing batsmen. Now he called on all his skill.
Without moving from his position he suddenly brought up the rock and flung it with all his strength directly at the revolver in Slim's hand. The outlaw's grip on the weapon had relaxed in his indifference, and when the stone struck its mark, full and true, the gun went flying into the deep snow.
"Come on, Joe!" shouted Frank scrambling to his feet. He had noticed a path leading through the snow in the direction of the road that went to Hank Shale's cabin and he ran toward this path with all the speed at his command. Joe had not been slow to grasp the situation, and he too came racing through the snow but a few paces behind.
The outlaws were taken off their guard. Slim instinctively reached for his revolver, but it had disappeared in the snow and he wasted many precious seconds hunting for it. Shorty had leaped after the boys, then, seeing that his companion did not follow, he hesitated, ran back, and then turned around again. He did not know what to do.
"After them!" roared Slim, and Shorty took up the pursuit. But his indecision had given the Hardy boys the opportunity they needed. They had a good start on their pursuer and Shorty was but a clumsy runner at best. Frank gained the path and there his progress was swifter because he was not handicapped by the impeding snow. Slim finally abandoned his search for the weapon and also took up the chase, but by this time he was far behind.
The boys gained the main road, with Shorty ploughing along in pursuit. Even yet they were not safe, but chance came to their aid in the shape of a stage that ran from Lucky Bottom to one of the neighboring camps. It rattled along, with sleighbells jingling, the driver muffled to the ears, and when Shorty and Slim caught sight of it they slowed up and abandoned the chase. The open road was a dangerous place. They did not wish any interference from the stage driver or his passengers.
When Frank and Joe saw that their pursuers had turned back they slowed down to a walk. Hank Shale's cabin was already in sight.
"We gave them the slip, all right," declared Frank jubilantly.
"I'll tell the world we did. Black Pepper and the other fellow will be hopping mad when they come back and find that we've escaped."
"We'll have to be on the lookout for them from now on. They won't stop until they do lay their hands on us."
"Perhaps it's just as well. We can be on our guard. If we weren't expecting anything wrong we'd be liable to walk right into their arms."
When the boys reached the cabin they found their father and Hank Shale greatly worried by their prolonged absence. They told of their descent into the abandoned mine, of the cave-in, and of their subsequent escape, of their capture by Black Pepper's men and of their get-away. Mr. Hardy looked grave.
"I think we'd better drop the case," he said finally. "It's too big a risk to take."
"Why?" asked the boys, in surprise.
"You might have been buried alive in that mine, in the first place. I would never have forgiven myself. And now that you have run up against Black Pepper's gang they'll be out to get you. I don't want to be responsible for making you run those risks."
"We won't drop the case," laughed Frank. "It's just getting interesting now. We'll find that gold for you, Dad."
"Don't worry about us," chimed in Joe. "We can look after ourselves. We probably won't be up against any worse dangers than the ones we faced to-day."
"Well," said Mr. Hardy, reluctantly, "you've come all the way out here, and I suppose you'll be disappointed if I don't let you go ahead; but I don't want you to take any unnecessary risks."
"I'm thinkin' they'll pull through all right," said Hank Shale solemnly. "Let the lads be, Mr. Hardy."
So, with this encouragement, Mr. Hardy consented to let his sons continue their activities on the case. Both Frank and Joe promised to take all due precautions and next morning they resumed their search for the missing gold.
During the days that followed they explored several abandoned workings, but the hunt was fruitless. They succeeded only in getting themselves well covered with dirt and grime and would return to the cabin hungry and weary. There had been no sign of any members of Black Pepper's gang. But finally Hank Shale, who had been down to the general store at Lucky Bottom one day, had news for them.
"They be sayin' down town," declared the old miner, "that Black Pepper and his gang have broke up camp."
"Have they left Lucky Bottom?" asked Mr. Hardy quickly.
Hank Shale shook his head. "Nobody knows. They had a camp somewheres back in the mountain, but they've all cleared away from it. Maybe the two lads here scared 'em."
"They've likely just moved to a new camping place," remarked Frank.
"I hope so," said Mr. Hardy. "If they've gone away it means that the gold has gone with them. If they're still around we have a chance yet."
Frank and Joe said nothing, but when they went to bed that night they talked in whispers in the darkness.
"What's the program for to-morrow?" asked Joe.
"We're going to find out if any of that gang are still around."
"Do you mean we'll go out looking for them?"
"Sure! It's just as dad says—if they've gone away the gold has gone with them. If they're still hanging around we'll know there's still a good chance of finding it ourselves."
"Where shall we look?"
"Up in the mountains. We can look around for trails in the snow."
"Suits me, as long as they don't catch us."
"That's a chance we have to take."
So next morning, without revealing their plans to any one, the boys started out into the mountains. It was a gloomy day and the sky was overcast. The lowering, snow-covered crags loomed high above them as they headed toward a narrow defile not far from the abandoned mine where they had been captured by Black Pepper's men some days previous. It was toward this defile that the man called Jack had gone on his way to summon Black Pepper, and the boys judged that the outlaws' abandoned camp was probably somewhere in that direction.
They discovered a narrow trail through the snow. It was a trail that had evidently been much used, for the snow was packed hard by the tramp of many feet.
"I think we're on the right track, all right," said Frank. "Even if we only find the deserted camp we may get some clues that will help us."
The boys went higher up into the mountain and at last they came to a protected spot beneath an overhanging crag, where the snow had not penetrated. Here the trail ended in a long platform of bare rock. They went across it, but were unable to pick up the trail again, although they searched about in every direction.
Suddenly Frank said to his brother in a low voice:
"Don't look around. Keep straight ahead."
"What's the matter?"
"There's some one following us. I just caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He's hiding behind the rocks back there."
"Let's tackle him."
"There may be others with him. Let him follow, and if he's alone we'll grab him."
Without giving any indication that they had seen their pursuer, the Hardy boys cut down into a narrow ravine where huge masses of boulders made progress difficult. They came to a place where rocks rose on either side so close together that there was room for only one person to pass at a time. As soon as they had gone through the opening Frank leaped to one side, motioning to his brother to take the opposite side of the boulders. They were now completely hidden from the man who followed.
"We'll get him when he comes through," whispered Frank.
They waited expectantly.
At last they heard the crunch of snow that indicated the unsuspecting man was approaching. Cautiously he drew nearer, step by step. The boys prepared themselves.
The man drew nearer. He was just entering the passage between the boulders. Frank and Joe pressed themselves against the rocks. They saw a head appear in view, then the shoulders of the man. He stepped forward and, at the same moment, they sprang at him.
Frank launched himself full on the fellow's shoulders and he gave a cry of surprise. At the same time Joe flung his arms about the man's waist and all three came tumbling to the ground. There was a flurry of snow as they struggled, but the fight was short-lived. Taken completely by surprise, the man was quickly overcome. He had reached for a revolver at his waist, but Frank had seen it in the nick of time and had struck it from his grasp. He seized the weapon himself and pressed the barrel of it to the fellow's temple.
"All right! All right!" he gasped. "I give in."
There was something familiar about the voice. The man turned his head about and they saw that it was the man known as Slim, the thin-faced fellow who had been among their captors several days before.
CHAPTER XVI
Information
"So it's you!" said Frank.
"Just my luck," muttered the outlaw, in disgust. "I might have known better!"
Still leveling the revolver at Slim, Frank relinquished his grasp and stood back. Joe also withdrew. Slim, holding his hands above his head and keeping a wary eye on the weapon, got to a sitting position.
"This is luck," Frank remarked. "We hadn't expected to meet again so soon."
"If I'd had any brains I wouldn't have let myself step into a trap like this," growled Slim.
"What were you following us for?"
"What were you doing up here?"
"Trying to find you," said Joe cheerfully.
"Where's Shorty and Jack and Black Pepper?"
Something in the man's question made Frank think quickly. Was it possible that Slim had become separated from the rest of the gang?
"I suppose you know the camp's broken up?" he remarked.
A look of surprise leaped into Slim's face.
"No," he said, hoarsely. "I've been away. What happened? You don't mean to tell me——"
"We're telling you nothing."
"They caught the gang?" went on Slim.
"Wait until we take you down to Lucky Bottom. You'll find out all about it then," said Frank, evasively. If Slim thought the rest of the outlaws were captured he might be more disposed to talk.
"I might have known it," said Slim gloomily. "They were gettin' too careless. I told 'em a hundred times they'd be tripped up, especially after lettin' you two give us the slip."
"We might be able to make it easier for you," Frank suggested.
"How?"
"If you've got any information to give us we might be able to put in a word for you."
Slim looked at them steadily for a moment. Then he asked:
"What kind of information do you want?"
"You know what we're hunting for."
"The gold?"
"Of course."
Slim was silent for a moment.
"That gang has been tryin' to double-cross me all along," he said at last. "I don't owe 'em nothin'. They would have cleared out with the gold and left me here if they could."
"Did they know where it was hidden?" asked Joe.
"Of course some one knew. They didn't dare make a get-away with it as long as Fenton Hardy was watchin' them. I guess the game is all up now, though. If they've got Black Pepper in jail they'll make him come through and tell where it was hidden."
"Don't the others know?"
Slim shook his head. "He wouldn't tell any of us. He hid the gold himself and we couldn't find out where. He said he was afraid we'd be double-crossin' him and stealin' it on him. I think he planned to take it himself and ditch the whole bunch of us."
"What do you know about it?"
"I know everythin' about it," said Slim boastfully. "Everythin' except where it was hidden."
"Who owned it in the first place?"
"You ought to know that as well as me. Bart Dawson and one of the Coulsons had it. Dawson blew into camp a while ago with Coulson and they dug up this gold. Dawson had it hid away some place. It must be about twenty years ago since he's been here. At least that's what Black Pepper said. He was in Lucky Bottom when Dawson was here before."
The Hardy boys exchanged glances of surprise. The names of Bart Dawson and Coulson were familiar. These were Jadbury Wilson's partners and the gold must be the gold that Wilson presumed Dawson had stolen from them. There was a mystery here that they could not fathom. If Dawson had stolen the gold, why did he bring Coulson back with him? Why had he waited for twenty years before returning to dig up the loot?
"And Black Pepper's gang stole it from Dawson?" persisted Frank.
The outlaw nodded.
"Haven't you an idea where he hid it?"
"It was in one of the old mines somewhere around here. That's how we knew you fellows were after it when we found you were searching through the workings."
"Where was your camp?"
Slim looked up at them. "Don't you know?"
"We know it's deserted. We were on our way to try to find it."
"Don't kid me," sneered the outlaw. "You know where it is all right. You were headin' right for it when I began to follow you. You're not any too far away from it now."
This was a stroke of luck that they had not expected. Unwittingly, they had been on the right trail to the camp all the time.
"What are you going to do with me?" asked Slim.
"We're going to take you down to Lucky Bottom," said Frank.
"Aw, let me go," whined the outlaw. "I've told you all I know about it."
Frank shook his head.
"I think you'll be safer in behind the bars."
"The sheriff's a good friend of our gang. He'll fix things for me."
"That's up to you and the sheriff. If he tries to fix anything this time he'll get into trouble. We'll see to that. You'd better come with us."
Frank gestured with the revolver and Slim got unwillingly to his feet. Then, making the outlaw lead the way, the boys started back down the trail toward Lucky Bottom. Both Frank and Joe were anxious to resume the search for the outlaw's camp, but they were confident that they could find it now, from the fact that Slim had admitted they were on the right trail.
They made the journey back to town without incident. Their arrival, with Slim marching ahead and Frank keeping the outlaw covered with the revolver, created a sensation. Word quickly sped about the mining camp that one of the members of Black Pepper's notorious gang had been captured and a crowd congregated about the jail as the little procession disappeared into the sheriff's office.
The sheriff was a shifty-eyed man of middle age, obviously weak and susceptible to public opinion. When he saw Slim led into the office he scratched his head dubiously.
"We want this fellow locked up," said Frank.
"What fer?" asked the sheriff reluctantly.
"For being mixed up in the gold robbery, for one thing. If that isn't enough you can hold him for carrying a revolver. If that isn't enough we'll charge him with assault, pointing a weapon, and half a dozen other things."
"I don't know," drawled the sheriff. "It ain't quite usual——"
Clearly he did not wish to put Slim in a cell. Frank became impatient.
"Look here," he said. "You're sheriff here and your duty is to lock up lawbreakers. We'll give you all the evidence you need against this chap, but we want him kept where he can't do any harm. If you're afraid of Black Pepper——"
"I'm not afraid of nobody," said the sheriff hastily.
Just then the door opened and a bearded old prospector strode in. He went right up to the desk and shook his fist beneath the sheriff's nose.
"Lock him up," he roared. "We've stood for about enough from you, and I don't care whether you're sheriff or not. If you're goin' to encourage outlaws and thieves, me and the boys will mighty soon see that there's a new sheriff in this here man's town."
Frank and Joe then saw that other miners were standing in the doorway, crowding against one another, muttering truculently.
The sheriff blinked, wavered, and finally gave in.
"I just wanted to make sure it was all right," he muttered. "Don't want to lock anybody up that don't deserve it."
"You know mighty well that Slim Briggs deserves it, if any one in this camp ever did," retorted the old miner. "Lock him up."
The sheriff took a ponderous bunch of keys from his pocket and unlocked a heavy door leading to the cells. "This way, Slim," he said regretfully.
Slim Briggs followed him into the cell. He looked around, plainly expecting to see the rest of the gang in jail as well. Suspicion dawned on him.
"Where's the others?" he demanded wrathfully.
"What others?" asked the sheriff mildly.
"Black Pepper—the rest of the boys."
"They ain't here."
Slim gaped in astonishment.
"They ain't here?" he shouted finally. "Why, those boys told me they'd all been rounded up! I spilled everything I knew, just so I'd get let off easy!"
"You're the only one that's been pinched," said the sheriff.
"So far," added Frank pointedly.
Then, as Slim Briggs burst into a wild outbreak of bitter recrimination against the way in which he had deceived himself, the boys withdrew and the cell door clanged.
The old miner laughed and slapped Frank on the shoulder.
"I guess Bart Dawson come along just in time!" he declared. "Sheriff would have let that bird go if I hadn't got the boys to back you up." He turned to the sheriff. "We've seen that Slim is in jail," he said. "You're responsible for keepin' him there. If he gets out—" he snapped his fingers ominously—"it means a new sheriff in Lucky Bottom."
CHAPTER XVII
The Outlaw's Notebook
"Are you Bart Dawson?" asked Frank.
"That's me," said the old man. "I'm the fellow they stole that there gold from."
The Hardy boys looked curiously at the old miner. From what they had heard of Bart Dawson from Jadbury Wilson they had been prepared to dislike him. But he appeared so genial and friendly and his grizzled old face was apparently so honest that they could not help but feel drawn to him. He certainly did not look like the sort of man who would desert his partners and rob them in the way Jadbury Wilson had described. Still, the evidence seemed all against him. He had betrayed his comrades and decamped with their gold, according to Wilson's story.
But why, argued Frank, should he wait twenty years to return for the wealth he had hidden? Why should he return with one of the Coulsons? Could it be possible that the pair had been in league with one another against Jadbury Wilson? The mystery defied explanation, but the more Frank looked at the jovial, honest face of the old man before him the more he was convinced that Bart Dawson had none of the earmarks of either thief or traitor.
"We've got one of 'em behind the bars now," said Dawson, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "I only wish we had 'em all."
"Perhaps we will have them all before long," remarked Frank. "We've run across a few clues that may lead to something."
"That's good! That's good!" declared the old man. "Do your best, lads, and you may be sure Bart Dawson won't forget you."
Frank and Joe forbore any mention of the name of Jadbury Wilson. It was best, they decided, to keep that information to themselves until they should learn more about the affair of the stolen gold. They had long since learned that one of the axioms of successful detective work is to listen much and say little. Accordingly, they bade good-bye to Bart Dawson and left the jail.
"Where to?" asked Joe.
"Back to where we caught Slim Briggs. We were on the right trail to the camp."
"But if the outlaws have left there isn't much use going up there now."
"We never know what we'll find."
The boys made their way up into the mountains again and, after about an hour of steady traveling, found themselves on the trail that led into the defile where they had trapped Slim so neatly. On the way they discussed their meeting with Bart Dawson.
"I can't imagine that old fellow being the kind of man who would desert his partners and steal their gold, the way Jadbury Wilson described," said Frank, for the tenth time. "I just can't figure it out at all! You can tell with half an eye that he isn't a crook."
"Yet Jadbury Wilson was absolutely convinced that he had left them all in the lurch."
"And he had the gold in his possession. We know that. He came back here to dig it up. That shows he must have hidden it, as Wilson said he did. The whole story hangs together mighty well."
"Yet why should he bring Coulson with him?" objected Joe.
"That's another queer angle. I can't figure it out at all. I think we should see Coulson and tell him what we know, tell him what Jadbury Wilson told us, and ask him about it."
"That's the best idea. But isn't it strange how Jadbury Wilson, away back in Bayport, should be connected with this case, away out here in Montana?"
"It's a coincidence, all right. We just seem to have blundered into the affair from both ends. Bart Dawson and Coulson know a lot that we don't know, but then we know a lot that Bart Dawson and Coulson don't know."
"I think we hold the advantage. To-morrow we'll try to find Coulson."
The boys were going down the defile now and they passed between the overhanging rocks where they had captured the outlaw. The marks of the struggle were still plainly evident in the snow.
"Poor Slim!" remarked Frank, with a laugh. "He'll be kicking himself all around the cell for talking so much."
"He was nicely fooled. He was sure the rest of the gang were all in jail."
"We didn't tell any lies about it. He took it for granted that the outlaws were arrested. All we did was to look wise and let him keep on thinking so." The boys chuckled at the recollection of the ease with which the dull-witted Slim had been duped.
"If only the rest of them are that easy!" said Frank.
"No such luck. I'm thinking this Black Pepper will give us trouble before we are through. He seems to have Lucky Bottom pretty well under his thumb."
"He has the sheriff buffaloed, at any rate, by the looks of things. If Bart Dawson hadn't shown up when he did I don't think Slim Briggs would have been put in jail at all."
The trail now led toward a clump of trees, and here there were evidences of recent habitation. Some of the trees had been chopped down, presumably for firewood, and the stumps rose above the level of the snow. There were numerous footprints about the little grove and in some places the snow was closely packed down. As the boys drew closer they caught a glimpse of a small cabin in the midst of the grove.
"We'll go easy from now on," said Frank quietly. "Some of them may have come back."
The boys went cautiously forward, keeping to the shelter of the trees as much as possible. Every few moments they would stop and listen.
But they heard not a sound. There was not a voice from the cabin. The only noises were the rustling of the trees in the wind. Quietly, the Hardy boys stole up toward the cabin. It stood in a little clearing in the wood. At the edge of the clearing they waited, but still they heard nothing, and finally Frank was satisfied that the place was, in fact, deserted.
"No one here," he said, in a tone of relief. "We'll take a look around."
They advanced boldly across the clearing, directly toward the door of the cabin. It was half open. Frank peered inside.
The place was deserted. The cabin was sparsely furnished, with a rude table, two chairs, and bunks on either side. There was a small iron stove at the far end of the building and the place was dimly lighted by one window.
There was every evidence that the outlaws had left the place in a hurry. Papers, articles of clothing and rubbish of all kinds lay about the floor, scattered here and there in abandon. One of the chairs was lying overturned on the floor. The place was in confusion.
The boys entered.
"Looks as if they didn't waste much time in getting out," remarked Joe.
"I'll say they didn't. The cabin looks as if a cyclone had hit it."
"Wonder if there'd be any use looking through those papers." Joe indicated a scattered heap of old envelopes, letters, tattered magazines and torn sheets of paper lying on the floor.
"That's just what I was thinking." Frank scooped up a handful of the papers and sat down on a bunk. He began to sort them over. The magazines he flung to one side as worthless. Some of the sheets of paper contained nothing but crude attempts at drawing or penciled lists of figures presumably done by some of the outlaws while idling away their time in the cabin.
One or two of the letters, Frank put to one side, as liable to give some clue to the identity of members of the gang. When he had looked through the first handful of papers he picked up some more.
Suddenly he gave an exclamation of satisfaction.
"Find something?" asked Joe.
"This may be valuable." Frank held up a small black notebook and began flipping the pages. On the inside of the cover he read:
"Black Pepper—his book."
"This is the captain's own little record book. There should be some information here."
Frank began studying the book carefully. The first few pages gave him little satisfaction, the writing consisting largely of cryptic abbreviations evidently in an improvised code known only to the outlaw himself. There were the names of several men written on another page, and among them he recognized the names of Slim, Shorty and Jack, the trio who had captured them at the abandoned mine working. Across from their names had been marked various sums of money, evidently their shares of the gang's takings in some robbery.
Then, on the next page, he found a crude map.
He studied it curiously. It looked something like the ground floor plan of an extremely crude house. There was one large chamber with two passages leading from it. One of these passages was marked with an X, and each passage led to a small chamber. From one of these led still another passage which branched into a tiny room, in one corner of which was inscribed a small circle.
"That's the funniest plan of a house I ever saw!" said Joe, looking over his brother's shoulder.
Frank studied the plan for a few moments and then looked up.
"Why, it isn't a house at all. It's a mine!" he declared. "This is the plan of a mine. This big room is the main working at the bottom of the shaft, and these passages are tunnels leading out of it."
"Perhaps it's the mine where the gold is hidden!" cried Joe, in excitement.
"There may be something about it on another page." Frank turned the leaf of the notebook. There he found what he was so eagerly seeking.
At the top of the page was written, in a scrawling, unformed hand: "Lone Tree Mine." Beneath that he found the following: