They were all panting from the exertion of the run up the mountain and the contest with the phantom—a phantom no longer—though, truth to tell, the struggle was not nearly so fierce as Tom had expected. He thought the “ghost” would put up a stiff fight.
“Got any ropes to tie him with?” asked Mr. Damon, who was helping Tom hold the man down.
“Ropes? You aren't going to tie me up are you, strangers?” asked the captive.
“That's what we are!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks. “We've had trouble enough in this matter, and if I've got one of the gang, perhaps I can get some of the others, and have my rights. So tie him up, Tom, and we'll take him to camp.
“Oh, you needn't go to all that trouble, strangers,” went on the man, calmly. “If one of you will get off my chest, and the other gentleman ease up on my stomach a bit, I'll walk wherever you want me, and not make any trouble. I haven't got a gun.”
“Bless my gloves! But you're a cool one,” commented Mr. Damon, as he complied with the man's request, and got up from his stomach. “But look out for him, Tom. He had a gun, for he fired it in the air.”
“He hasn't it now,” answered the young inventor. “I knocked it from his hand when I leaped for him.”
“That's what you did,” assented the man, as he got up, while Tom kept a tight hold of him, as did Mr. Jenks. “What kind of a grizzly bear hug do you call that, anyhow, that you gave me?”
“That was a football tackle,” explained Tom.
“I allers heard that was a dangerous game!” remarked the former phantom simply. “Well, now you've got me, what are you going to do with me?”
“Take you where we can have a good look at you,” replied Mr. Jenks, as he kicked aside the wooden framework, and the sheet which had made the “ghost” appear so tall. “So this is how you worked it; eh?”
“Yep. That was the 'haunt' stranger. I made it myself, and it worked all right until you folks come along. I rather suspicioned from the first, when I played the trick over on 'tother side of the mountain, that you wouldn't be so easy to fool as most prospectors are.”
“Oh, so you're the only ghost then?” asked Tom.
“I'm the only one.”
By this time they had reached the camp. Tom threw some light logs on the fire, which blazed up brightly. As the flames illuminated the face of their captive, Mr. Jenks looked at him, and cried out:
“Why it's Bill Renshaw!”
“That's me,” admitted the man who had played the part of the phantom, “and thunder-turtles! if it ain't Mr. Jenks who was once in the diamond cave with us. Whatever happened to you? I never heard. The others said you got tired and went away.”
“They took me away—defrauded me of my rights!” declared Mr. Jenks, bitterly. “But I'll get them back! To think of Bill Renshaw playing the part of a ghost!”
“They made me do it,” went on the man, somewhat dejectedly. “I wanted to be at work in the cave, but they wouldn't let me.”
“Is this man one of the diamond makers?” asked Tom, in great surprise.
“He is—one of the helpers, though I don't believe he knows the secret of making the gems,” explained Mr. Jenks. “He was one of the men in the cave when I was there before, and he and I struck up quite a friendship; didn't we, Renshaw?”
“That's what, and there ain't no reason why we can't be friends now; that is unless you hold a grudge against me for firing at you. But I only shot in the air, to scare you away. Them's my instructions. I'm supposed to be on guard, and scare away strangers. I'm tired of the work, too, for I don't get my share, and those other fellows, in the cave, get all the money from the diamonds.”
Tom Swift uttered an exclamation. A sudden plan had come to him. Quickly he whispered to Mr. Jenks:
“Make a friend of this man if possible. He evidently is dissatisfied. Offer him a sum to show us another way into the cave, and we may yet discover the secret of the diamond makers.”
“I will,” declared Mr. Jenks, quietly. Then, turning to Renshaw, he added:
“Bill, come over here. I want to have a talk with you. Perhaps it will be to our mutual advantage.”
He led the former phantom to one side, and for some time conversed earnestly with him. Mr. Jenks told the story of how he had been deceived by Folwell and the others who were at the head of the gang of diamond makers. The rich man related how they had taken his money, and, after promising to disclose the secret process to him, had broken faith, and had drugged him, afterward taking him out of the cave.
“I want only my rights, and that for which I paid,” concluded Mr. Jenks. “Now, I gather that these men haven't treated you altogether fairly, Bill.”
“Indeed they haven't. I helped 'em to the best of my ability, and all I get out of it is to stay out on this lonely side of the mountain, and play ghost. They owe me money, too, and they won't pay me, either, though they have lots, for they sold some diamonds lately.”
“Then they are still making diamonds?” asked Mr. Jenks, eagerly. “Have you seen them? Do you know the secret?”
“No, I don't know it, for they won't let me in on it. I'm always sent out of the cave just before they make the gems. But I know they've made some lately, and have sold 'em. I want my share.”
“Look here!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks, quickly, wishing to strike while the iron was hot. “I'll make you a proposition. Show us how to get into that cave, unknown to the diamond makers, and I'll pay you twice what they agreed to. Is it a bargain?”
Bill Renshaw considered a moment. Then he thrust out his hand, clasped that of Mr. Jenks, and exclaimed:
“It is. I'll take you into the cave by an entrance that's seldom used. There are four ways to get in. The one where the two men drove you back is the rear one. The front one is on the other side of the mountain, but it's so well concealed that you'd never find it. But I can take you to one where you can get in, and those fellows will never know it. And, what's more, I'll help you if it comes to a fight!”
“Good!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks. “I think we'll discover the secret of the diamond makers this time,” and he went to tell the others of the success of his talk. Bill Renshaw had been converted from an enemy into a friend, and the former phantom was now ready to lead Tom and the others into the secret cave.
“We'll start in the morning,” decided Mr. Jenks, who, after many disappointments, at last saw success ahead of him.
Tom Swift was up at break of day, and the others were not far behind him.
“Now for the secret cave!” cried the young inventor as he gazed up the mountain, in the interior of which the mysterious band of men were making the diamonds.
“Have you made any plans, Bill?” asked Mr. Jenks of the former phantom, who had cast his lot in with the adventurers. “What will be the best course for us to follow?”
“You just leave it to me, Mr. Jenks,” was the answer. “I'll get you into the cave, and those fellows, who, I believe, are trying to do me out of my rights, as they did you out of yours, will never know a thing about it.”
“Bless my finger-nails!” cried Mr. Damon. “That will be great! We can get in the cave, and watch them make the diamonds at our leisure.”
“They don't make them every day,” explained Renshaw. “It seems they have to wait for certain occasions. Mostly they make the diamonds when there's a big storm.”
“A big storm,” asked the scientist with a sudden show of interest. “Do you mean one of those electrical storms, such as we had the other night?”
“That's it, Mr. Parker, though why they wait until there's a storm is more than I can tell.”
“Perhaps they know that on such occasions no one will venture up the mountain,” spoke Mr. Damon.
“No, it isn't that,” declared the scientist. “I think I am on the track of a great scientific discovery, and I will soon be able to make observations that will confirm it.”
“Well, I'm going to make an observation right now,” said Tom, with a laugh. “I'm going to see what there is for breakfast.”
“And that reminds me,” came from Mr. Jenks, “shall we move our camp, Bill, and take the tent with us to the cave?”
“I hardly think so,” was the answer. “I think the best plan would be to conceal the tent somewhere around here, in case you might need it again. You can also store what food you have left.”
“But, bless my appetite, we don't want to starve in that diamond cave!” objected Mr. Damon.
“I'll see that you don't,” declared Bill Renshaw. “I'll take you in there, unbeknownst to those fellows, and I'll provide you with plenty of food and water. You see the cave is so big that there are some parts they never visit.”
“And we can stay in one of those parts, and eat?” asked Tom.
“Sure,” answered Bill.
“And watch the diamond makers at work?” asked Mr. Jenks.
“That's it,” replied the former phantom.
“Then the sooner we get started the better,” remarked Mr. Damon. Mr. Parker said nothing. He appeared to be thinking deeply, and was tapping at some rocks with his little hammer.
The advice of Bill Renshaw was followed, and the tent, and what food remained, was concealed in the bushes, with rocks piled over to keep away prowling animals. Then they started for the secret cave.
The man who played the part of a ghost picked up the framework and white cloth that had formed his disguise.
“I'll still have to use this,” he explained, “for I don't want those fellows to know that I'm helping you. I'll continue to play the spirit of the mountain, but there won't be much need of it. I don't think any more people will come prospecting out here.”
“Have you heard of the arrival of Farley Munson?” asked Tom, as he related the facts about the stowaway.
“He hadn't arrived up to a day or so ago,” answered Bill. “I guess he's still traveling. Farley is one of the heads of the gang,” he added, “and a dangerous man.”
As Bill led the way toward the cave, taking a route that the adventurers had never suspected led to it, he explained that the cavern was a large one, capable of holding an army.
“But there's only a small part of it used by the diamond makers,” he added. “They work in a small recess, near the summit of the mountain. The little cave, where I'm going to take you, opens off from it by a long passage. And, except that you'll be pretty much in the dark, you'll be quite comfortable. There are tables, chairs, and some bunks in the place. I can get you some lights, and plenty of food.”
“But, if you are seen taking away food, won't the others suspect something?” asked Tom.
“I do pretty much as I please,” said Bill. “I go and come when I like. All I'm supposed to do is to watch my two sides of the mountain, play the ghost, and give warning when any one is coming. Sometimes I leave black and white messages, like the one I put on your tent. Those fellows fix 'em up for me. I've told 'em about you, though I didn't know who you were, and they think you have gone, for the two men on guard at the rear entrance so reported. Sometimes I stay out on the mountain for a couple of days at a time, when the weather's good, and don't go back to the cave. Those times I take food with me, and so if they see me making off with some supplies they'll think I'm going to camp out.”
“It doesn't look as though we'd ever get into a cave near the top of the mountain, going this way,” said Tom, as they marched along. “We're going down, instead of up.”
“That's the secret of this trail,” explained Bill. “We go down in a sort of valley, and then go up a pretty stiff place, and then we're on a direct trail to the entrance I told you about. It's a steep road to climb, but I guess we can manage it.”
And a hard climb the adventurers did find it. The road was almost as bad as the one along the edge of the chasm, but they managed to negotiate it, and finally found themselves on a fairly good trail.
“We'll soon be there,” Bill assured them. “After you get in the little cave, where I'm going to hide you, I'll have to leave you for a spell, until I get my ghost rigging fixed up again. But I'll see that you have plenty of food and drink.”
A little later their guide came to a sudden halt, and peered around anxiously.
“What's the matter?” asked Tom.
“I was just looking to see if any of the men were about,” he answered. “But I guess not—it looks all right. The entrance is right here.”
They were on a side of the mountain, near the summit. Below stretched a magnificent scene. A great valley lay at their feet, and they could look off to many distant peaks. The main trail to Leadville, and the one to the settlement of Indian Ridge, was in sight.
Suddenly Tom, who had been using a small but powerful telescope, uttered an exclamation, and focussed the instrument on a speck that seemed moving along on the trail below.
“A man—coming up the mountain,” cried Tom. “And—it can't be—yet it is—it's Farley Munson—the stowaway!” he cried. “He's coming here!”
“Let me look!” begged Mr. Jenks, taking the glass from Tom. An instant later the diamond man exclaimed: “Yes, it's Munson!”
“Then in here with you—quick!” cried Renshaw. “He can't see us yet, and we'll be out of sight in another minute.”
The former spirit pulled aside some thick bushes, and pointed to a hole which was disclosed.
“The entrance to the secret cave,” he announced. “Slip in all of you.”
Tom, after another glance at the man toiling his way up the mountain, entered the cavern. He was followed by the others. Bill was the last to enter, and he replaced the bushes over the entrance.
“At last!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks, as he gazed up at the roof of the dimly-lighted vault in which they found themselves.
“Yes, we're in the diamond makers' secret cave,” added Tom. “Now to catch them at work!”
“Come on,” advised Bill, in a low tone, “We're not safe yet,” and he produced a lantern from some hidden recess, lighted the wick, and led the way. As the others followed they were aware of a subdued noise in the great cavern.
“What's that noise?” asked Tom, as their guide flashed the lantern to show them the way.
“That's the men getting ready to make diamonds, I guess,” was the answer. “You see it takes quite a while to get the stuff ready. I don't know what they use—they never tell me any of their secrets.”
“Oh, I know the ingredients well enough,” said Mr. Jenks, “but I don't know the secret of how they apply the terrific heat and pressure necessary to fuse the materials into diamonds.”
“Well, you'll soon know,” declared Bill Renshaw. “Of course it isn't always successful. I've known 'em to try half a dozen times before they got any diamonds big enough to satisfy 'em. They gave me some of the small ones when I asked for my wages.
“How did you come to get in with these men?” asked Tom, curious to understand how a person seemingly as honest as Renshaw appeared to be had cast his lot in with the men who had broken faith with Mr. Jenks.
“Oh, I've lived around these parts all my life,” was the answer. “I knew of this cave before these diamond fellers came to it. In fact, I showed it to 'em. It was several years ago that a party of men who were prospecting around here came to me and asked if I knew of a small cave near the top of a high mountain, where lightning storms were frequent. I told them about Phantom Mountain, as it was called then, and also of this cave. If there's any place where they have worse lightning storms than here, I'd like to know it. They scare me, sometimes, like the night when that landslide happened, and I'm sort of used to 'em.
“Well, I took these men to the cave, and they hired me as a sort of lookout. Then they began their work, and at first I didn't know what they were up to, but finally I caught on. Then Mr. Jenks came, and disappeared mysteriously, though then I didn't know that they had played a trick on him. I was outside most of the time, pretending I was the ghost. So that's how I came to get in with 'em, and I wish I was out.”
“You soon will be, I think,” declared Mr. Jenks. “But won't our talking be heard by the men?”
“No danger. There is a thick wall between this part of the cave, and the part where they live and work. I'll soon have you well hid, and then you wait until I come back.”
“What about Munson?” asked Tom. “He is evidently on his way here to tell his confederates about us.”
“He won't know what has happened to us,” said Mr. Jenks, “and he won't see anything of us. I guess we're safe enough.”
Through the dark passage they followed Bill Renshaw until he came to a halt in a place that suddenly widened and broadened into a good-sized cave.
“Here's your stopping place,” said the former ghost. “Now if you follow that passage, off to the left,” and he pointed to it, “you'll come to the larger part of the cave where the diamond makers are. But go cautiously, and don't make any noise. I won't be responsible for what happens.”
“We'll take all the risk,” interrupted Tom.
“All right. Now there's a couple of lanterns around here. I'll light them, and leave you for a while until I can get some grub. I'll be back as soon as I can.”
He glided away, after lighting two lanterns, by the gleams of which the adventurers could see that they were in a vaulted cavern that had evidently been fitted up as a living apartment. The sides, roof and floor were of stone. It was clean, and the air was fresh. There were some chairs, a table, and several cots, with pieces of bagging for bedding, though it was warm in the place.
“I guess we can stay here until we discover the secret,” spoke Tom.
“Bless my watch! We can if we have something to eat,” came from Mr. Damon, with something like a sigh. “I'm hungry!”
“And I want to make some observations,” said Mr. Parker. “From what I have seen of this mountain, I would not be surprised if this cave was to be suddenly destroyed by a landslide or a lightning bolt. I will make some further investigations.”
“Well, if it's going to cause you to make such gloomy prophecies as that, I'd just as soon you wouldn't look any further,” spoke Tom, in a low voice. But Mr. Parker, taking one of the lanterns, set about examining the rock of which the cave consisted.
In a short time Bill Renshaw returned with enough food to last for two days. He said he was going out on the mountain once more to act the part of a lookout, and would visit the adventurers again the next day.
“In the meanwhile you can do just as you please,” he said. “Nobody is likely to disturb you here, and you can sneak up and take a look at the men in the other cave whenever you're ready. Only be careful—that's all I've got to say. They're desperate men.”
It was not very pleasant, eating in the gloomy cavern, but they made the best of it. They cooked on a small oil-stove they found in the place, and after some hot coffee they felt much better.
“Well,” remarked Tom, after a while, “shall we take a chance, and go look at the men at work?”
“I think so,” answered Mr. Jenks. “The sooner we discover this mystery, the better. Then we can go back home.”
“And recover my airship,” added Tom, who was a bit uneasy regarding the safety of the Red Cloud.
“Then, bless my finger-rings! let's go and see if we can find the big cave your friend the ghost told us of,” suggested Mr. Damon.
Cautiously they made their way along the passage Bill had pointed out. As they went forward the subdued noise became louder, and finally they could feel the vibration of machinery.
“This is the place,” whispered Mr. Jenks. “That sound we hear is one of the mixing machines, for grinding the materials—carbon and the other substances—which go to make up the diamonds. I remember hearing that when I was in the cave before.”
“Then we must be near the place,” observed Tom.
“Yes, but I didn't have much chance to look around when I was here before. They wouldn't let me. I never even knew of the small cave Bill took us to.”
“Well, if we're close to it, we'd better go cautiously, and not talk any more than we're obliged to,” suggested Mr. Parker, and they agreed that this was good advice.
They walked on softly. Suddenly Tom, who was in the lead, saw a gleam of light.
“We're here,” he whispered. “I'll put out our lantern, now,” which he did. Then, stealing forward he and the others beheld a curious sight. The tunnel they were in ended at a small hole which opened into a large cavern, and, fortunately, this opening was concealed from the view of those in the main place.
“The diamond makers!” whispered Tom, hoarsely, pointing to several men grouped about a number of strange machines.
“Yes—the very place where I was,” answered Mr. Jenks, “and there is the apparatus—the steel box—from which the diamonds are taken—now to see how they make them.”
Fascinated, the adventurers looked into the cave. The men there were unaware of the presence of our friends, and were busily engaged. Some attended to the grinding machine, the roar and clatter of which made it possible for Tom and the others to talk and move about without being overheard. Into this machine certain ingredients were put, and they were then pulverized, and taken out in powdery form.
The power to run the mixing machine was a gasoline motor, which chug-chugged away in one corner of the cave.
As the powder was taken out, other men fashioned it into small balls, which were put on pan, and into a sort of oven, that was heated by a gasoline stove.
“Is that how they make the diamonds?” asked Mr. Damon.
“That is evidently the first step,” said Mr. Jenks. “Those balls of powdered chemicals are partly baked, and then they are put into the steel box. In some way terrific heat and pressure are applied, and the diamonds are made. But how the heat and pressure are obtained is what we have yet to learn.”
He paused to watch the men at work. They were all busy, some attending to the machines, and others coming and going in and out of the cave. In one part a man was apparently getting ready a meal.
Suddenly there rushed into the cave a man who seemed much excited.
“Are you nearly ready with that stuff?” he cried. “There's a good storm gathering on the mountain!”
“Yes, we'll be ready in half an hour,” answered one of the men at the mixing machine.
“Good. It will be flashing lightning bolts then, and we can see what luck we have. The last batch was a failure.” The man hurried out again. Mr. Parker touched Tom and Mr. Jenks on their shoulders.
“What is it?” asked Tom.
“I know the secret of making the diamonds,” said the scientist.
“What?” cried Mr. Jenks.
“It is by the awful power of the lightning bolts!” whispered Mr. Parker. “Everything is explained now—the reason why they make diamonds in this lonely place, near the top of the mountain. They need a place where the lightning is powerful. I can understand it now—I suspected it before. They make diamonds by lightning!”
“Are you sure?” cried Mr. Jenks.
“Positive.”
“I agree with you,” said Tom Swift. “I was just getting on that track myself, when I saw the electric wires running to the steel box. That explains the upright rod on the top of the mountain. The man says a storm is coming—very well; we'll stay here and watch them make diamonds!”
As he spoke there came the mutter of thunder, and the mountain vibrated slightly. The men in the cave redoubled their activity. Tom and his friends felt that the secret process they had so long sought was about to be demonstrated before their eyes.
Eagerly the adventurers looked through the opening at the end of the passage into the larger cave. The men opened the small oven in which the balls of white chemicals and carbon mixed, had been baked, and a pile of things, that looked like irregularly-shaped marbles, were placed in the steel box.
This box, which was about the size of a trunk, was of massive metal. It was placed in a recess in the solid rock, and all about were layers of asbestos and other substances that were nonconductors of heat.
“That box becomes red hot,” exclaimed Mr. Jenks, in a whisper. “When things are in readiness, that lever is pulled and the diamonds are made. I pulled it once, but I did not then know the process involved. I supposed that the lightning had nothing to do with making the diamonds.”
“It has—a most important part,” said Mr. Parker. The hidden adventurers could talk in perfect safety now, for the men in the large cave were too excited to pay much attention to them. The muttering of the thunder grew louder, and at times a particularly loud crash told that a bolt had struck somewhere in the vicinity of the cave.
“But, bless my watch-charm!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, “I didn't know lightning made diamonds.”
“It does not—always,” went on the scientist. “But great heat and pressure are necessary to create the gems. In nature this was probably obtained by prehistoric volcanic fires, and by the terrific pressure of immense rocks. It is possible to make diamonds in the laboratory of the chemist, but they are so minute as to be practically valueless.
“However, these men seem to have hit upon a new plan. They utilize the terrific heat of lightning, and the pressure which is instantaneously obtained when the bolt strikes. I am anxious to see how it is done. Look, I think they are getting ready to make the gems.”
Indeed there seemed to be an air of expectancy among the diamond makers. The mixing machine had now been stopped, and, as it was more quiet in the cave, our friends, in their hiding-place, had to speak in mere whispers. All the men were now gathered about the great steel box.
This receptacle had been closed by a solid metal door, which was screwed and clamped tight. Then one of the men examined a number of heavily insulated electric wires that extended from the box off into the darkness where Tom and his companions could not discern them.
“That's Folwell—the man I befriended, and who got me into this game,” whispered Mr. Jenks. “He was also one of the first to turn against me. I think he's one of the leaders.”
Folwell came back, after having gone into a dark part of the cave. He went over to an electrical switch on one of the stone walls.
“It's almost time,” Tom heard him say to his confederates. “The storm is coming up rapidly.”
“Will it be severe enough?” asked one of the helpers. “We had all our work for nothing last time. The flashes weren't heavy enough.”
“These will be,” asserted Folwell. “The indicator shows nearly a million volts now, and it's increasing.”
“A million volts!” exclaimed Tom. “I hope it doesn't strike anywhere around here.”
“Oh, it will probably be harmlessly conducted down on the heavy wires,” said Mr. Parker. “We are in no danger, at present, though ultimately I expect to see the whole mountain shattered by a lightning bolt.”
“Cheerful prospect,” murmured Tom.
There was a terrific crash outside. The rocky floor of the cave trembled.
“Here she comes!” cried Folwell. “Get back, everybody! I'm going to throw over the switch now!”
The men retreated well away from the steel box. Folwell threw over the lever—the same one Mr. Jenks remembered pulling. Then the man ran to the electric switch on the wall, and snapped that into place, establishing a connection.
There was a moment's pause, as Folwell ran to join the others in their place of safety. Then from without there came a most nerve-racking and terrifying crash. It seemed as if the very mountain would be rent into fragments.
Watching with eager eyes, the adventurers saw sparks flash from the steel box. Instantly it became red hot, and then glowed white and incandescent. It was almost at the melting point.
Then came comparative quiet, as the echoes of the thunder died away amid the mountain peaks.
“I guess that did the trick!” cried Folwell. “It was a terrific crash all right!”
He and the others ran forward. The steel box was now a cherry red, for it was cooling. Folwell threw back the lever, and another man disconnected the switch. There was a period of waiting until the box was cool enough to open. Then the heavy door was swung back.
With a long iron rod Folwell drew something from the retort. It was the tray which had held the white balls. But they were white no longer, for they had been turned into diamonds. From their hiding-place Tom and the others could see the flashing gems, for, in spite of the fact that the diamonds were uncut, some of them sparkled most brilliantly, due to the peculiar manner in which they were made.
“We have the secret of the diamonds!” whispered Mr. Jenks. “There must be a quart of the gems there!”
The men gathered about Folwell, uttering exclamations of delight. The diamonds were too hot to handle yet.
“That's going some!” exclaimed the chief of the diamond makers. “We have a small fortune here.”
The was a sudden commotion at one end of the cave. A man rushed in. At the sight of him Tom stared and uttered an exclamation.
“Munson—the stowaway!” he whispered.
“Hello!” cried Folwell, as he saw his confederate. “I thought you were East, keeping Jenks away from here.”
“He got the best of me!” cried Munson, “he and that Tom Swift! I stowed away on their airship, but they found me out by a wireless message, and marooned me in the woods. I've been trying to get here ever since! Didn't you get my messages of warning?”
“No—what warnings?” cried Folwell.
“About Jenks, Tom Swift and the others. They're here—they must be on Phantom Mountain now. In fact, I shouldn't be surprised if they were in this cave. I traced them to their camp, but they're gone. They may be among us now—in some of the secret recesses!”
For an instant Folwell stared at the bearer of these tidings. Then he cried out:
“Scatter men, and find these fellows! We must get them before they discover our secret!”
“It's too late—we know it!” exulted Tom Swift. Then he whispered to the others to hurry to the part of the cave where Bill Renshaw had first hidden them.
“Do you think there is any danger of them finding us?” asked Mr. Damon, as he hurried along beside Tom.
“I'm afraid so,” was the answer. “I've been worried ever since we saw Munson heading this way. But we couldn't do any differently.”
“Perhaps Bill Renshaw may be able to conceal us,” suggested Mr. Jenks. “Very likely he knows that Munson is on hand. Perhaps we will be safe for a while. I want to make a few more observations as to how they manufacture the diamonds, and then, with what I already know, I'll have the secret.”
“And I'd like to make some scientific tests of the sides and bottom rocks of the cave,” spoke Mr. Parker. “I think it will bear out my theory that the mountain will soon be destroyed.”
“Well, you were right about Earthquake Island, and you may be right about this mountain,” said Tom, “but if it is going to be annihilated I hope we get far enough away from it.”
“We can keep our presence here a secret for a few more days, I think that will be long enough,” proceeded Mr. Jenks. “Then we will leave.”
“And, in the meanwhile, they'll be searching for us,” objected Mr. Damon. “I wish that ghost-chap would come back and tell us what to do. Bless my liver-pin, but we are going to be in considerable danger, I'm afraid! Those men may capture us, and decide to make diamond dust from us.”
“Come on—hurry to the little cave,” urged Tom. “Then we'll get ready to defend ourselves.”
“The main cave is a large one,” said Mr. Jenks, “and there are many hiding places in it. In fact, it is so large that it will take those fellows several days to complete a circuit of it. By that time Bill Renshaw may come back, and take us to some place in which they have already searched for us. Then we'll be comparatively safe.”
This thought was some consolation to them, as they made their way through the dark passage, dimly illuminated by the lantern they had rekindled, to the place where Bill had hidden them. They found things as they had left them, and proceeded to get a meal, though Tom said it would be best not to cook anything, or even to make coffee, for fear the odors would enable the searchers to trail them.
So they ate cold food, glad to get that. Silently they sat about the dimly-lighted cavern, and discussed the situation. True they might even now retreat, going out of the entrance Bill had showed them, and so escape. But Mr. Jenks felt that his mission was not completed yet, and they all agreed to stay with him.
“For there are several points about making diamonds that are not quite clear to me,” he said. “I need to know how that steel box is constructed, how the electrical switches are arranged, what kind of lightning rods they use, and how they regulate the pressure. The other things, and how to mix the ingredients, I already know.”
“Then we'll do our best to help you,” promised Tom. “But now I think we had better see what sort of a defense we can put up. We have our guns and revolvers, and with these chairs and tables we can build a sort of barricade behind which we can take refuge if those fellows do discover our hiding place.”
This was conceded to be a good idea, and soon a rude sort of fort was made, behind which the adventurers could take their stand and fight, if necessary, though they hoped this would not come to pass.
They remained quietly in the cave the remainder of that day, and, when it was night, as they could tell by their timepieces—there was no daylight—they divided the hours into watches, taking turns standing guard.
Morning, at least in point of time, came without any disturbance, and they made a cold breakfast. They hoped that Bill Renshaw would come, but he did not appear.
After sitting in the dark cave until afternoon, Tom said:
“I think we might as well go and take another observation of the big cave. We can tell what the men are doing, then, for they don't seem to have been near us. Maybe they have given up the search for us, and we can see them at work, and Mr. Jenks can gain what further knowledge he needs.”
“That will be a good plan,” agreed the diamond man. “It's maddening to sit here, doing nothing.”
“And it will be comparatively safe to go from here to our former post of observation,” added Tom, “for there doesn't seem to be any opening along the tunnel, into the larger cave, except the place where we were.”
Accordingly they started off. Cautiously they looked through the opening into the apartment where they had seen the diamonds made.
“There's not a soul here!” exclaimed Tom, in a whisper. The others looked. The place was deserted—the machinery silent. Mr. Jenks peered in for a moment, and then exclaimed:
“I'm going in! Now's my chance to find out all that I wish to know! It may never come again, and then we can soon leave Phantom Mountain!”
It was a daring plan, but it seemed to be the best one to follow. They were all tired of inactivity. Mr. Jenks managed to get through the opening, and dropped into the big cave. The others followed. Mr. Jenks hurried over to the steel box, and began an examination of it. Tom Swift was looking at the electrical switch. He saw how it was constructed. Mr. Damon and Mr. Parker were peering interestedly about.
Suddenly the sound of voices was heard, and the echo of footsteps. Mr. Jenks started.
“They're coming back!” he whispered hoarsely. “Run!”
They all turned and sped toward their hiding place. But they were too late. An instant later Folwell, Munson and the other diamond makers confronted them. Our friends made a bold rush, but were caught before they could go ten feet.
“We have them!” cried Munson. “They walked right into our hands!”
It was true. Tom Swift and the others were the prisoners of the diamond makers.