The gas and oil lamps were lighted, and, as the sun sank to rest behind the hills, the auto began the night trip. The way was still upward, for the summit of the mountains had not yet been reached. Ned was steering and Jerry was on the seat beside him.
The machine topped a long rise and came to the brow of a small incline, the descent of which, on the other side, was quite steep.
It was now dark, for the moon had gone behind a cloud. The road was not of the best, and Ned had the machine pretty well under control. Down it went on the slope.
Suddenly Jerry gave a cry and reached over to shut off the power.
“Jam on the brakes!” he cried to Ned.
The steersman obeyed, and, with a grinding sound, the auto came to a halt, with a sort of jar.
“What’s the matter?” asked Nestor.
“Some obstruction on the road; looks like a log,” answered Jerry. “I just happened to see it in time.”
He got out and ran ahead.
“It’s a tree cut down right across the path,” he called back. “A big one, too. If we’d hit it, running as we were, we’d have gone to smash.”
They all got out of the car and gathered about the obstruction. Broswick alighted from his horse and made a close inspection.
“This was done on purpose,” he declared. “It has been freshly cut and was chopped on the side next to the road so’s to fall right across an’ block our way.”
“I wonder who did it?” asked Bob.
“There’s only one gang who could have an object in such a trick as this,” said Ned.
“Who?” inquired Bob.
“Noddy Nixon’s crowd. They want to delay us as much as possible so they can reach the mine first.”
“I believe Jerry is right,” put in Nestor. “This is one of the enemy’s tricks, all right.”
For a little while the adventurers stood and looked at the tree that obstructed their further progress.
“Well, what’s to be done?” asked Ned.
“It’s too big for us to lift out of the way,” said Bob. “We’ll have to wait until morning and then go get some axes and chop it in two.”
“Don’t do that,” exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, so earnestly that the boys thought he might have some other plan to propose.
“Why not?” asked Jerry.
“Because there may be some valuable specimens of insects on that tree, little green or brown toads, katydids or other things. Let it stay there until morning so I may gather them.”
“The tree is likely to stay there until morning, all right enough,” observed Nestor, “so you’ll have all the time you want, Professor.”
“There’s no need of delay,” spoke Jerry, suddenly.
“How you goin’ to git rid of the tree?” asked Nestor.
“I’ll show you,” replied the boy.
He ran to the back of the auto, took out a long, stout rope and fastened this to the tree, near the branch end. The other end of the cable Jerry brought back to the machine. This he now tied to the rear axle of the automobile, and then, getting into the front seat, he turned the machine around.
Gradually increasing the speed, he sent the auto ahead. The rope tightened, there was a straining, cracking sound and the tree was pulled to one side of the road by the power of the auto. The thoroughfare was left free for passage.
“I guess they didn’t think of that,” remarked Jerry, as he replaced the rope and turned the machine around. “Now we can go ahead.”
“Good for you!” cried Nestor. “We’ll beat ’em yet, an’ at their own game!”
They piled into the auto, and with Jerry at the wheel, went forward again, Broswick’s horse keeping up. They traveled for about an hour longer and then Nestor suggested that as they had reached a good spot it might be wise to camp there for the rest of the night.
It was not long before every one was snoring in slumber. Ned was the first one to awake, and he did so as the result of a vivid dream he had that he was sliding downhill on top of a barrel, when it collapsed and threw him into a snow-bank.
He opened his eyes to find the ground all white about him, and about three inches of snow covering his rubber blanket.
“Where are we?” he called out, his voice awakening the others.
“A snow squall!” cried Broswick. “I thought we were gittin’ high enough to have ’em. Waal, it won’t amount to much.”
“Are snow storms common here the end of September?” asked Jerry.
“They are when you git high enough in the mountains,” replied the hunter. “Many’s the night I’ve gone to bed thinkin’ it was summer, to wake up an’ find it winter, an’ me sleepin’ under a foot of snow. The storms come up so easy you don’t know anythin’ about ’em.”
“Will it last long?” asked Ned.
“No; it’ll melt when the sun strikes it,” was the answer. “But snow or no snow, we must have breakfast.”
Broswick scraped away a place amid the white blanket and found some wood. A blaze was soon kindled, and the appetizing smell of coffee filled the crisp air. A hasty but substantial meal was made, and then the travelers, urged on by the call of gold in the mine they were striving to reach, took up their journey again.
As Broswick had said, as soon as the sun rose the snow began to melt and soon the landscape showed no signs of the winter costume it had masqueraded in. The adventurers were now close to the top of the mountain, and would shortly begin descending on the other slope. They had dinner beside a swift, cold brook, from which Broswick caught several large trout that made an excellent and very welcome addition to the meal, broiled as they were over the coals.
It was late that afternoon when the hunter, who was riding somewhat in the rear, came galloping up on his horse.
“I’m afraid we’re in for it,” he said.
“In for what?” asked Nestor.
“A rippin’ old thunder storm,” was the answer. “The clouds back there are as black as ink an’ the wind’s drivin’ ’em right this way. If I know anythin’ of signs, an’ I ought to, considerin’ I’ve hunted in these mountains for nigh onto twenty years, we’re goin’ to have a regular rip-snorter.”
“Snow one day and a thunder storm the next,” observed Jerry. “This is a queer country.”
Events soon proved the old hunter was right. The wind began to blow a regular gale and the clouds made the sky almost as dark as night. The auto was going downhill; Jerry was taking it along as easily as he could.
Suddenly the storm burst with a terrific peal of thunder that accompanied a blinding flash of lightning. It seemed to shake the very earth. Then came a regular deluge of rain.
“Run the machine under a tree,” advised Nestor. “We’ll be washed away if we stay in the road.”
“There’s a good place, just ahead!” shouted Broswick. “Under the oak. Leave the auto there and run for the cave!”
“What cave?” cried Jerry.
“There’s one on the left side of the road, a little above the tree,” said Broswick. “I’ve stayed in it often when I was caught in a storm. It’ll hold all of us an’ the horse.”
The machine was halted beneath the oak. Then, after rubber blankets had been spread to keep dry the baggage in the auto, the adventurers raced for the cave, led by Broswick.
They found the cavern to be a dry, roomy one, a natural hole scooped out of the side of the mountain. Once inside, the war of the elements could not harm them. They drew back from the mouth of the cave and listened to the heavy rumble of thunder and watched the brilliant lightning.
It seemed as if the very flood-gates were opened. The wind blew a regular hurricane, and the lightning was incessant.
Suddenly there came a dull rumbling and the cave was jarred by a shock. Then it grew as black as night.
“That struck somewhere!” cried Jerry.
“And near here!” exclaimed Broswick. “I’m afraid it was too close for comfort.”
“Are we in any danger?” asked Professor Snodgrass, calmly.
Broswick had groped his way forward. He seemed to be fumbling in the darkness at the mouth of the cave.
“What’s happened?” shouted Nestor.
“A rock has fallen and closed the mouth of the cavern!” cried the hunter.
For a few moments the silence of despair was on every one. The knowledge that they were imprisoned in the cave came as a terrible shock.
“Is there no way out?” asked Nestor.
“Now don’t you folks go to worryin’,” spoke Broswick, in a more cheerful voice than seemed warranted under the circumstances. “I’ve been in tighter places than this, an’ come out on top!”
“But we’re buried!” cried Professor Snodgrass, who, for once, seemed to have forgotten all about his beloved specimens.
“That’s nothin’,” spoke Broswick. “You thought you was all goners when them cattle was comin’ after you, but I got you out, an’ I’m goin’ to do the same now!”
“You can’t burrow out like a rabbit,” said Ned.
“I’ve got a little instrument here that will help me,” said the hunter. “I never travel without a spade on my saddle. I’ve lost too many rabbits an’ woodchucks through not havin’ the means to dig ’em out, so I always carry a shovel along. I reckon it will come in handy. If I only had a light now——”
“No need to worry about that,” put in Nestor. “It would be a pretty poor miner that traveled without a bit of candle and some matches with him. I always go prepared for emergencies.”
He struck a match, a yellow glow filled the cave, and soon a candle gave good illumination. The boys could see that the cavern was of large size.
“I’ve often stayed in here to keep out the rain,” said Broswick, as he got his spade, “but I never was ketched like this before.”
Guided by the candle, the hunter went to the mouth of the cave and began digging away the mass of earth and rocks that had slid down and obstructed the opening.
“Goin’ to be quite a job,” remarked the miner, as he looked over the mass. “It’ll take a good while.”
“There’s plenty of us to do the work,” replied Broswick.
He attacked the pile and made the dirt fly. After he had labored fifteen minutes Nestor relieved him. The miner, from his experience in digging into the earth, made more progress than had the hunter. Nestor kept at it for more than half an hour, refusing to yield the spade to any one.
“There,” he said, when he stopped to rest, “I’ve made quite a hole.”
The boys and Professor Snodgrass took turns, and then Nestor went at it again.
“I wish I had a drink,” remarked the miner. “This is dry work.”
“Nothin’ easier,” said Broswick. He took a second candle, which the miner had, and walked to the rear of the cave.
In a little while he returned with a big gourd full of cold water.
“What sort of a magician are you?” asked Jerry.
“There’s a spring back there,” explained Broswick. “Many’s the time I’ve taken a drink at it and the last time I was here I brought this gourd for a dipper. Now it comes in handy.”
Each one took a draught of the cool water and felt the better for it. Then Nestor insisted that he was going to continue the digging. The others wanted to relieve him, but he would not let them. He plied the spade vigorously and the dirt was scattered to one side.
“Light! Light!” the miner cried, suddenly. “I can see light! We’re nearly out!”
A few more strokes of the shovel made the opening larger and then, with a shout and hurrah, the imprisoned adventurers rushed forward.
“Why! Why! It’s night!” exclaimed Bob, as he emerged from the cavern and saw the stars shining.
“Of course it is,” answered Nestor. “It was late afternoon when we took shelter in the cave, and we were there more than three hours.”
“Well, we’re out now,” said Jerry. “I wonder if the auto was damaged.”
The storm had ceased and the night was a fine, clear one. The moon was shining from a cloudless sky and thousands of stars were out. Jerry ran on ahead to the tree under which the auto had been left, for the machine was his chief concern.
He paused as he reached the spot. Then he rubbed his eyes and wondered if he was seeing straight. He even pinched himself to see if he was awake.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ned, who was following close behind his chum.
“The auto is gone!” cried Jerry.
“Gone?”
“Yes. Stolen!”
“What’s that?” exclaimed Nestor, running up.
Jerry pointed under the tree. There was not any sign of an automobile.
“That’s funny,” observed Broswick. “It couldn’t fly away, that’s sure.” He led his horse from the cave up to the road and stooped down to examine the path closely.
“Let’s have one of those candles,” the hunter called to Nestor. Lighting the wick the old man examined the road with care, moving about in a circle and then going backward and forward for quite a distance.
“Well?” inquired Nestor, when the hunter straightened up.
“Some one came along in another auto while we were in the cave,” said the hunter, “pulled up here alongside of yours, hitched on to it and pulled it away, or else rode off in it.”
“What makes you think so?” asked Jerry.
“I haven’t hunted an’ trapped twenty years for nothin’, young man,” was the answer. “I can see the tracks your machine made as it stopped under a tree. Then along comes another machine, with tires a leetle mite smaller’n yours. Auto No. 2 stops. Some one gits out from it an’ looks over your auto, for I kin see marks of hob-nailed shoes, an’ none of us wear ’em.”
“Hob-nails, did you say, eh?” here interrupted Nestor.
“That’s what I said.”
“Then Tom Dalsett has been here.”
“How do you know?”
“Look an’ see if the soles of the hob-nailed shoes didn’t have a cross in each one.”
“They did,” replied the hunter, inspecting the tracks.
“Then it’s Tom Dalsett for sure. He always wore shoes like that, an’ I seen ’em on him when he was at Dead Man’s Gulch.”
“Then Noddy and his gang have stolen our auto!” cried Jerry.
“That’s about it,” assented Nestor. “However, we mustn’t give up yet. We’ll take after ’em.”
“Not much chance of getting them, though,” put in Ned.
“You’re welcome to my horse,” said Broswick. “He ain’t very fast, but he’s better than nothin’.”
“There’s no use doin’ anythin’ to-night,” was the miner’s opinion. “We’d only get lost on the road, and I don’t know but what we’re lost already. We’ll have to camp until mornin’.”
After some consideration this was voted the best thing to do. It was a sorrowful band of adventurers that gathered about the fire which Broswick made, for the hearts of the boys were dispirited over the theft of their machine, and the men sympathized with them.
Fortunately, the hunter had some bacon left, and a meal, such as it was, the travelers made on this. Then, selecting the driest places they could find, they prepared to spend the night in the open, without coverings. It was cold, but by keeping a good fire going some comfort was had.
When the sun rose the adventurers got up, stretched themselves and wondered what they were going to do for breakfast.
“Leave it to me,” said Broswick. “I’m used to providing meals.”
He was gone some little time, and when he came back he had several plump birds. These were cleaned and were soon roasting over the fire on sticks. It was a good deal better meal than might have been expected under the circumstances.
Then, with the hunter riding his horse, and the others following, the journey in search of the stolen auto was begun. The marks made by the broad tires of the two machines could be plainly seen.
“I wouldn’t care if I had my valuable specimens,” wailed Professor Snodgrass.
“We’ll git ’em, an’ the auto, too,” said Broswick. “Don’t you worry.”
They had covered several miles and were descending a long hill, when Jerry called out:
“What’s that ahead, there?”
They all stopped and peered down the road.
“There are two autos!” cried Nestor. “One looks like ours. I’m going to see about it.”
And he started off on a run.
“Here, come back!” yelled Broswick.
“What for?” shouted Nestor.
“Take my horse,” said the hunter. “That’s better than going afoot.”
Nestor returned, mounted the animal and set off at a gallop toward the two autos, which were down in the valley.
“He’ll never catch them,” said Bob, in a despairing tone.
“You let him alone,” came from Broswick. “He’ll git ’em, all right. There’s some trouble down there. One machine can’t go.”
“How can you tell?” asked Jerry.
“I’ve got sharp eyes, boy,” was the answer. “I use ’em in my business.”
In fact, as the boys observed closely, they could see that the two machines were not moving. They could also note men walking about the cars.
“Something’s out of kilter,” said Ned. “I guess they found plenty of trouble running two machines. I’ll bet one of ’em is ours.”
They watched Nestor descend the slope and approach the cars. As he came closer to them it was observed that there was some commotion among the persons grouped around the machines. They saw the miner raise his hand in the air, and little clouds of smoke arose.
“He’s firing over their heads!” cried Broswick.
Then, all at once, the persons down in the valley, who, as the boys afterward learned, were Noddy Nixon and his gang, made a rush for the head auto, jumped into it and made off at top speed.
Nestor rode up to the remaining machine and waved his hat back to his friends. Taking this as a signal that all was right, they hurried forward.
“It was them, all right!” cried Nestor, when Jerry and the others had joined him. “I scared them off by firing in the air. There seemed to be something the matter with our auto, for they were trying to fix it.”
The boys were worried lest some harm had befallen their machine. Jerry made an examination, however, and found things in good shape. There was some damage, and a battery wire had become disconnected, which had brought the machine to a stop, thus foiling the plans of Noddy.
“That was a lucky break for us,” said Bob.
“You bet it was, Chunky,” agreed Ned. “If we hadn’t recovered the auto we would have had to walk back home, and home is a good ways from here.”
Repairs to the machine were quickly made, and then, with light hearts, the adventurers took their places and started forward once again.
Nothing in the car had been disturbed, and even the collection of insects made by Professor Snodgrass had not been harmed. The steady chug-chug and puff-puff of the motor was heard as the adventurers moved on up the mountain.
They stopped for dinner on top of a little hill in the midst of a grove of trees. A fire was kindled, coffee made, and some canned provisions set out.
“This is something like,” observed Bob, smacking his lips over some preserved tongue.
“I’d have given five dollars for a cup of coffee last night,” spoke Nestor.
“Me, too,” said the hunter.
“I am so thankful my specimens are safe I could go without eating for a week,” put in Professor Snodgrass, at which they all laughed.
Taking a comfortable rest under the trees until the afternoon sun went down a little, the adventurers were thoroughly enjoying the pleasant day. Suddenly Broswick started up.
“What is it?” asked Nestor, viewing with alarm the look of fear on the hunter’s face.
“Indians!” was the answer.
“You don’t mean real Indians?”
“That’s what I do. There’s a reservation of some kind about fifty miles from here, and they break loose every now and again.”
“What makes you think some are loose now?”
“Hear ’em yellin’ an’ screechin’!” said the hunter, raising his hand to caution silence.
Straining their ears the adventurers noted the faint sound of some weird chant borne to them on the east wind. Then, as they watched, they saw, coming over the slope of the hill, a band of redskins, mounted on ponies.
“Hurry to the auto!” cried Ned.
He ran for the machine, followed by Jerry and Bob. Broswick picked up his gun and looked to the loading of it, as Nestor did to his revolvers, but neither of the men offered to retreat. Professor Snodgrass was intent on capturing some kind of grasshoppers, and did not seem to care whether there were Indians about or not. More and more of the savages came into view.
“Hadn’t we better skip?” asked Nestor of the hunter.
“There are a few more than I reckoned on,” was the reply. “I guess we may as well skedaddle if we don’t want trouble. I don’t know how my nag will run, compared to the Indian ponies, but——”
“Better get in the auto,” suggested Nestor. “It will hold six on a pinch.”
By this time Ned was frantically cranking up the machine. But, though he turned the flywheel with all his strength, while Bob attended to the spark and gasolene levers, the machine would not start.
“What’s the matter?” cried Jerry, who had delayed, to pick up some of the baggage that was unloaded for dinner.
“She’s stuck!” yelled Bob.
Jerry sprang to the cranking handle. His success was no better than Ned’s. There were a few faint compressions, but that was all.
“Better start if you’re goin’ to,” said Broswick, coming up. “They’re almost here now.”
“We can’t start!” exclaimed Jerry.
“Then we’ll have to fight!” observed Broswick, coolly.
Suddenly the air was filled with fierce howls and yells.
“You boys git in the back part of the machine,” cautioned the hunter. “We men will attend to the redskins. Maybe they are only off on a holiday junket, account of bein’ paid off by the Government. In that case they may let us alone. But they might be ugly, an’——”
Just then a bullet, with an angry zip, passed over Broswick’s head.
“They’re out fer business an’ not fun!” he exclaimed. At the same instant he threw up his rifle and fired. A howl of pain came in answer, and one Indian fell from his horse.
“I only took him in the leg,” said the hunter, grimly. “No use killin’ any if we can avoid it.”
Jerry, Bob and Ned sank down in the tonneau. Nestor and the hunter lined up in front of the auto and stood with ready weapons. Professor Snodgrass, with a revolver, which Nestor had given him, seemed more afraid of the weapon than of the Indians.
Then, with savage yells, the band of redskins, who, as it afterward developed, had gone on a rampage from their reservation because they were dissatisfied with the Government rations, closed around the auto. They fired their guns off as fast as they could load them.
But, either because they were poor shots, or because they didn’t want to hit the adventurers, the Indians did no damage. Several bullets came uncomfortably close, and one or two grazed the auto, but no one was hurt.
Then the savages, with whoops and yells, began circling about the machine. Around and around they went, riding their ponies at top speed. Suddenly, as if in response to some signal, they withdrew quite a distance, but still hemmed the travelers in a circle.
“They’re up to some mischief,” said Nestor.
“Shall we wing one or two just to show we have bullets?”
“Not for the world,” replied Broswick. “Our only hope is not to get them too riled. They may draw off an’ leave us alone.”
But this was not the Indians’ intention. Once more they began making a wide circle about the auto.
“I see what the trouble was!” cried Jerry, looking over from the tonneau to the front of the dashboard. “The sparking plug was out. No wonder we couldn’t start the machine.”
He reached over and put the small brass pin in the proper socket.
“Now I’m going to have another try!” he called to Broswick and Nestor. “Get ready to jump in the machine!”
Before Nestor could stop him, Jerry had leaped to the ground. He ran around to the front of the auto, seized the cranking handle and gave several vigorous turns. As he did so a chorus of savage yells arose from the Indian ranks, and several more shots were fired.
The bullets struck all around Jerry, but none of them struck him. Some of the leaden missiles hit the ground and made little clouds of dust, and others zipped on all sides of the auto.
All at once the explosions of the auto motor mingled with the banging of the Indians’ guns. Jerry had started the engine.
“Get in!” he cried, leaping to the steering seat.
Broswick, Nestor and Professor Snodgrass obeyed the command.
“What about my horse?” cried the hunter.
“Let him go! It’s you or the nag!” yelled the miner.
In another instant the whole party was in the auto and Jerry yanked the levers to full speed ahead. Off the car shot, Jerry steering for an opening in the circle of Indians.
With wild yells the redmen watched the auto glide away. They fired shots at it, and one Indian hit Broswick, but the wound was only a slight one.
“Here comes your horse!” shouted Bob, glancing behind, and, sure enough, Broswick’s steed was galloping after the swiftly moving auto as though he was on the race track.
In a little while the adventurers left the Indians behind and were at a safe distance from any bullets. The hunter’s horse, too, kept running, and got away.
“Well, we didn’t bargain for this when we left home,” remarked Jerry, as he slowed up the machine after an hour’s run.
“I should say not,” put in Bob. “Being attacked by Indians was the last thing I ever thought of.”
“You’re out in the wild an’ woolly West,” observed Nestor. “You’ll see stranger things before you get through.”
“I’d like to see something to eat right now,” came from Bob.
“There goes Chunky,” said Ned. “He’s always as hungry as he was at home.”
In spite of poking fun at the stout youth, every one felt the need of food. So a stop was made, a fire built, and soon coffee was boiling. Broswick went off in the woods with his rifle and came back with a brace of birds and a jack rabbit. What the boys voted was the finest meal they ever ate was quickly prepared.
“We must be careful not to lose the auto again,” said Jerry. “We have had trouble enough with Noddy. The next time he may beat us altogether.”
When camp was made that night a system of watches was arranged so that some one would be on guard all through the dark hours.
Nothing disturbed the adventurers, however, and in the morning they started again on their trip across the mountains, which, it seemed, would never come to an end.
Several days, including Sunday, passed without incident. No very fast time was made, and the machine had to be sent along carefully, as the roads were bad and the trail was uncertain to them. One morning Broswick announced that he was going off on a hunt. Nestor and Professor Snodgrass said they would go with him. Accordingly, the hunter’s horse was tied near the auto and the three men set off, while the three boys remained behind to make some repairs to the machine and do a little necessary overhauling.
“We’ll be back by dinner-time,” announced Broswick; “that is, if something doesn’t happen to us.”
The boys were so busy that they scarcely noted the passage of time. It was not until Jerry looked at his watch and announced that it was two o’clock that the lads wondered what had happened to their friends.
“It’s long past meal time,” said Ned.
“Maybe they’re not hungry,” suggested Bob.
“More likely they’re in trouble,” spoke Jerry, an anxious look on his face. “I think we had better hunt them up.”
This the boys decided to do, after getting themselves a light lunch. They ran the auto along the track the three men had taken, but after riding half an hour found no sign of their friends.
“Maybe we’re on the wrong track,” said Bob.
“Or else they didn’t come this way,” put in Ned.
They turned the machine around and rode back slowly, looking for marks along the road.
“There’s something!” exclaimed Jerry. He pointed to a small match-box lying on the ground. “Nestor always carried that,” he said. “It must have dropped from his pocket. The men have been here.”
“Hark! What’s that?” cried Bob.
All listened. To their ears came a faint but unmistakable cry.
“Help!”
“There they are!” called Jerry. “Over to the left! We must hurry to them!”
He sent the machine ahead at a swift pace. The road led along the top of a plateau and ran close to the edge of a cliff. As the machine neared this spot the cries became louder. Near the edge of the precipice Jerry brought the machine to a stop.
“They are down there,” he announced, after listening carefully.
The boys dismounted from the car and approached the ledge. It went down straight for about fifty feet and then bulged out into a shelf before making a sheer descent to the valley, three hundred feet below.
Near the edge of the precipice the earth and rocks were freshly torn away, showing that something had gone over. Jerry got down on his hands and knees and crept to the edge. What he saw as he looked down made him spring to his feet and shout in mingled fear and astonishment.
There, on a jutting spur of the mountain, hardly large enough to hold them, were the three missing men.
“Are you hurt?” Jerry called down.
“Bruised and scratched, but no bones broken,” shouted Nestor. “You’ll have to haul us up some way, for we can’t get down nor crawl up.”
“Git a rope!” shouted Broswick, “an’ lower it down.”
“A rope! I don’t believe there’s one long enough within ten miles of here!” exclaimed Ned.
“Yes, there is,” said Jerry, quickly. “We have the one they tried to hang Professor Snodgrass with—the same we used on the tree. It’s in the auto. You get it, Bob.”
In a few minutes a long rope was dangling over the edge of the cliff, and when the end reached the men imprisoned on the ledge they set up a joyful shout. The boys retained their end and at a signal from Nestor, who had tied the cable about the professor, under his arms, Bob, Ned and Jerry began to haul away. They strained and pulled, but the man at the other end did not budge.
“It’s caught!” exclaimed Ned.
Jerry ran forward, telling Ned and Bob to retain their hold of the rope. He found that the cord rasped against an edge of rock as it passed up from the depths below, and this produced so much friction that great force would have to be used in pulling the men up. Then, too, there was the danger of the rope fraying and being cut in two.
Jerry thought over the problem a few seconds.
“What’s the matter up there?” asked Nestor.
“Never mind!” shouted back Jerry. “We’ll have you up in a jiffy now.”
He hurried over to a little clump of trees and came back with a short section of a round limb.
“This will be a roller for the rope to pass over, just like a pulley,” he announced. Then he proceeded to put his plan in operation. Lying down on his face, he held the log in position, the rope passing over it. Then he told Bob and Ned to pull.
But even with this advantage there was trouble. The two boys managed to get the professor up a short distance, but they were not strong enough to hoist him all the way.
“Help! help!” the naturalist cried, as he felt himself dangling.
“This will not do!” exclaimed Jerry. “Let him down easy, boys; I’ll have to think of another plan.”
It began to look as though the rescue of the men on the ledge was to be a harder task than at first supposed. At Jerry’s direction, the end of the rope the boys had was fastened to a stake driven into the ground.
“Now I wonder what we’d better do?” mused Jerry. “We’ll have to use the limb of the tree as a roller, and some one has to hold it in place. Yet it will take all three of us to pull one man up. If only one of the men was up here to give a hand we could manage. As it is——”
“I have it!” cried Ned, suddenly, and he ran back to where the auto stood.
Ned reached the machine, cranked it up, and a few minutes later steered it close to where Bob and Jerry stood.
“The auto can do what we can’t,” he said.
“What do you mean?” came from Jerry.
“I mean it can pull the men up over the cliff!”
“Hurrah! So it can!” exclaimed Jerry. “I see your plan.”
The car was turned around so the rear of it was close to the edge of the precipice. Then the rope was fastened to the axle.
“Get ready, down below!” called Jerry.
“We’re ready!” came back the answer.
Jerry and Bob stretched out on the ground, each one holding an end of the improvised roller. Ned started the auto slowly. The rope strained and tightened. Then, as the car gathered speed, the cable was pulled up, and Professor Snodgrass, tied to the other end, was hauled from his perilous position.
As his head came into view over the edge of the precipice, Jerry shouted to Ned to stop the car. The next instant the naturalist was helped to solid ground by the two boys. The plan had worked.
In quick succession Nestor and the hunter were pulled up in the same fashion.
“Well, I must say you boys are smart chaps,” spoke the miner. “Automobiles are useful critters in more ways than to ride in.”
“How did you ever get down there?” asked Jerry.
“It was all my fault,” said Professor Snodgrass. “We were walking along, and I saw a particularly rare specimen of a little garter-snake. It was moving through the grass and I raced after it. It went over the edge of the cliff, and I reached down and tried to get it. It was so far over that I had to lie down flat on my face and stretch my arms. Then——”
“Yes, an’ when he found he couldn’t reach the critter even then,” interrupted Broswick, “he asked Nestor an’ me to hold his heels while he stretched down. Blamed if I ever do such a thing ag’in.”
“Why not?” asked Bob.
“’Cause jest as soon as me an’ Nestor got hold of his heels an’ was easin’ him over the cliff, I’ll be jiggered if the whole top didn’t give way an’ there we was, slidin’ down the mountain at about forty miles a minute. I thought we was gone coons sure, but we struck on the ledge an’ that saved us.”
“We’d been there yet if you boys hadn’t come along,” said Nestor. “But say, I’m mighty hungry.”
“There isn’t much to eat,” spoke Jerry.
“Yes, there is,” came from the hunter. “I shot some partridge jest afore we had that bloomin’ old snake hunt.”
He walked over to where he had left his game and came back with a double brace of fine birds. It was not long before the partridges were roasting over a fire and every one with a good appetite prepared to eat.
“Where’s my specimen box?” suddenly exclaimed the professor, after an inspection of the auto. “It’s gone!”
“No; I just laid it to one side when I wanted to use the machine to haul you up with,” explained Ned. “It is safe. But what do you want of it now?”
“To put my snake in, of course,” and the scientist showed a tiny serpent grasped in his hand.
“So you got it after all, eh?” asked Broswick. “I thought you missed it when them rocks an’ dirt slid an’ let us all down kersmash over the cliff.”
“I wouldn’t have lost that snake for ten thousand dollars,” said the professor, as he put it safely away with his other curiosities.
After dinner the journey toward the lost gold mine was again taken up. In a short time the auto and its occupants, as well as Broswick on his horse, were making good speed. Presently it was noticed that the road was sloping downward. Jerry remarked on the fact.
“We’ve crossed the divide,” announced Nestor. “From now on, until we get to the mine, we’ll be going downhill. There’s another rise of the mountains after we pass the mine, though.”
It was now about five o’clock, and as the adventurers had eaten dinner rather late they decided not to stop for supper, but to keep on until it was time to camp for the night and have another meal then.
When it got too dark to go any further on the road, even though the gas and oil lamps gave a glaring light, a halt was made. Supper was eaten and soon all but Broswick, who mounted first guard, was slumbering.
Next morning the travelers came to a long, level stretch, on top of a vast plateau, and here good speed could be made. Jerry was steering the car, his turn having come around, and Broswick’s horse was keeping up well, for the boys would not leave the hunter behind, and regulated their pace to that of his steed.
As they went around a curve and came to a straight stretch, Jerry cried out and pointed ahead. They all looked, to behold another automobile speeding away from them.
“That’s Noddy’s car, I’m sure of it!” Jerry shouted. “I’d know it anywhere by this time.”
“I’d like to catch those rascals!” exclaimed Nestor. “They’ve made trouble enough for us, an’ they’ll make more if they can. Besides, I have my score to settle with that chap Pender. I’d have overlooked it if they’d let us alone, but now I want to git even!”
“There’s no reason why you shouldn’t,” said Broswick. “Your machine is as good as theirs. Give ’em a chase. If you catch ’em, put their auto out of business until you have enough of a start to get to the mine first. Besides, we could have the law on ’em for stealin’ this machine.”
“But what about leaving you behind?” questioned Jerry, to whom the thought of a chase after his old enemies was not unwelcome.
“Leave me behind; I’ll catch up to you later,” spoke the hunter.
Jerry looked at Nestor. The miner nodded his head in approval. The next instant the auto fairly sprang forward, as Jerry threw on the high-speed gear and opened wide the flow of gasolene.
The chase was on. Jerry sent out a challenging “honk” on the horn, and it was answered by the auto ahead. That machine, too, as soon as the occupants became aware of the pursuit, went forward at top speed.
Fortunately for all, the road was much better than the average. It was wide and level, and as soon as the machines had warmed up they fairly flew along.
“Aren’t—we go-going a—a—trifle fast?” asked Professor Snodgrass, in a frightened tone, as he held fast to the car-side to avoid being bounced out.
“That’s the intention,” said Nestor. “The other fellows are doin’ it an’ we have to do likewise. Hold tight!”
As he spoke, the auto went over a rock and every one was tossed from his seat, to fall back with a jarring bump.
The pace was now very fast. With straining eyes Jerry watched his rivals in front. Slowly but surely he could see that the distance between them was lessening. Once or twice some one in the forward car looked back to note the progress of the chase.
“We’ll catch them!” yelled Ned.
Faster and faster went the auto. The trees and rocks seemed to shoot past. The distance between the two machines was constantly lessening until now it was but a quarter of a mile.
“They may use guns,” ventured Bob.
“I reckon they will, son,” replied Nestor, “but if they try that game they’ll find we can shoot a bit ourselves.”
He got out his brace of revolvers and saw to it that they were loaded.
“Not that I’m anxious to hurt any one,” the miner went on, “but we must protect our lives and our machine.”
Soon but an eighth of a mile separated the pursued and pursuing forces. The occupants of the other car could be plainly seen, and Ned, who was riding beside Jerry, noticed Jack Pender stand up in the rear seat and shake his fist.
“He wouldn’t do that if we were a little closer,” observed Ned.
Jerry now saw victory before him. He prepared to run to one side ahead of Noddy’s machine and so block its further progress.
He was about to press the accelerating lever to give his car a momentary burst of speed when there suddenly sounded a great roaring. It seemed to come from the side of a small mountain along the base of which the plateau road now ran.
Then the air seemed to fill with dust. The very earth trembled and all at once a section of the mountain slipped down right on top of the pursuing auto, fairly overwhelming it.
It was a big landslide, and it had come just in time to catch Jerry and his friends and let the other machine escape, for the auto Noddy and his gang were in got out of the way of the rush of rocks and earth.
There was a resounding crash. Then all seemed to become black to Jerry.
When Jerry recovered consciousness he found himself sitting on the ground, while Ned and Nestor were bathing his head with water that Professor Snodgrass was bringing up in his hat.
“Where am I? What happened?” asked Jerry.
“You’re still on the map,” said the miner, “and as for what happened, it was what often happens out here. Part of the mountain parted company from the main hill, that’s all.”
“Is the auto smashed?” asked Jerry.
“It appears to be damaged some,” replied the miner, and Jerry felt his heart sink. “But never mind that. It’s lucky we’re not all killed. You were struck on the head by a stone and knocked unconscious. The rest of us were just spilled out when the machine turned over. But how do you feel?”
“I’m all right, only a little weak,” replied the boy. He stood up, and, aside from a little dizziness, he found himself in good shape. His head ached from the blow and was cut slightly, but he was too anxious about the machine to mind his hurts.
With legs that trembled somewhat, he made his way to where the auto had overturned from the force of the landslide. The machine presented a sorry sight. The baggage was spilled out and things were scattered all about. There was a break in the water tank and the fluid had run out. The steering-post was also bent, and one chain was broken. What other damage was done could not be seen until some of the dirt was removed.
“I wish Broswick would come along with his spade,” said Nestor. “We need him.”
“There he comes now,” spoke up Ned, pointing back on the road they had come. At the top of a gentle slope a figure on horseback could be made out. The man waved his hand. It was the hunter, and in a short time he came up to the wreck.
“Waal,” he remarked, “looks like ye had trouble.”
“We did,” replied Nestor, and he told of the landslide. “But,” he went on, “I reckon these boys know how to git us out of it. I’ll stake my last dollar on these boys,” and he smiled in a way that made the down-hearted lads feel better.
Broswick’s spade did good service, and soon the machine was cleared of the dirt sufficiently to allow of its being righted. Then Jerry made a more careful examination. As he went around on the right side of it he uttered a despairing cry.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ned.
“The battery box is gone!” exclaimed Jerry.
“It was carried away in the landslide, and we haven’t another cell. We’re stranded, sure enough.”
He pointed to where, on the right step, a small, square box had rested. In this box were the dry batteries that supplied the spark.
Without the vital spark the auto could not advance a foot, and, as Jerry had said, the last of the spare batteries had been used and no new ones procured. The adventurers were certainly in dire straits.
“Maybe we can find the batteries somewhere in the dirt,” suggested Nestor.
Acting on this idea, the boys and men made a careful search among the rocks and gravel that covered the road. They found the battery box, but it was splintered to pieces and not a single cell could be located. They went over every inch of the debris with no better result.
“Well, I reckon we’re booked for a stay at this summer resort,” said Nestor, with forced cheerfulness.
“It will be a good chance for me to get some specimens,” said the naturalist, as if nothing mattered so long as he got some bugs or snakes.
“I reckon you’ll have all the time you want,” put in the hunter. “But speakin’ of specimens reminds me that I’m hungry. I think I’ll take my gun an’ see if I can’t pot somethin’ for dinner.”
“We’ve got to eat if we can’t travel,” observed Nestor. “Supposin’, Bob, you an’ Ned make a fire, while Jerry tinkers over the auto. Perhaps he can make it go, after all. We’ve had good luck so far, all but this.”
Jerry shook his head. He knew that without the batteries the machine could not be operated. It was like trying to run an engine without a fire under the boiler.
However, he set to work to repair what damage he could. With a small soldering outfit he mended the hole in the water tank, stopping the leak. Then, with an extra link, of which several were carried, the broken chain was mended.
By this time Broswick came back with some partridges and rabbits and a meal, though it lacked many extras, was soon in preparation. After eating, Jerry went back to the machine. He took out the steering-post, and, with the help of Nestor, straightened it. Then some other small repairs were made, and, though the auto looked rather battered and battle-scarred, the paint being scratched in many places, it was still serviceable. All that was lacking was the battery box.
Jerry even filled the water tank from a nearby spring, and then, not being able to do anything more, sat down on a stone and contemplated the useless auto, with sad eyes.
“No use cryin’ over spilt milk,” said Nestor, with rude philosophy. “What can’t be cured must be endured. It’s a long lane that has no turns, an’ the longest way ’round is the shortest way home.”
“Git a hoss! Git a hoss!” exclaimed Broswick, suddenly.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Nestor. “Gone crazy or are you gittin’ your second childhood?”
“Git a hoss!” repeated the hunter, capering about like a schoolboy.
“What ails you?” demanded Nestor.
“Ain’t that what the kids cry when they see a busted auto?” asked the hunter. “Seems to me I’ve read that in the funny papers. Am I right?”
“You be,” said Nestor. “But what’s the use of rubbin’ our misfortune in?” he grumbled.
“I wasn’t.”
“Then what made you yell ‘Git a horse’?”
“’Cause that jest’s what you’re goin’ to do!”
“Say, did you sleep in the moonlight last night, ’cause you must have, an’ gone looney!” exclaimed Nestor. “You——” and then he stopped suddenly, as he caught the hunter’s idea. “Well, I’ll be ding-busted!” he finished, weakly.
“That’s jest what you’re goin’ to do,” went on the miner. “My Kate is as strong a hoss as you’d want. We’re goin’ downhill most of the way, anyhow, an’ it’ll be easy for Kate to pull the machine an’ us in it. There’s a town about fifty miles ahead, an’ maybe you can git some of them batter-cakes there.”
“Batter-cakes?” repeated Ned.
“Yes. Ain’t them what you want?”
“Batteries—dry electric batteries,” said Jerry, with a smile.
“Waal, that’s what I meant, only I spelled it wrong. They keep minin’ supplies in this town, and they’ll be sure to have batteries. Kate can pull us that far if we go slow.”
Broswick’s suggestion was voted a good one. The spirits of all were raised, and soon the hunter and Nestor busied themselves making a rude sort of rope harness for the horse.
The animal did not seem to mind pulling the auto, and, after everything had been collected, and some of the game the hunter had shot was packed to be taken along for supper at the next stopping place, the start was made.
It was slow traveling, compared to the former speed, but it was sure. The slight down-grade helped the animal dragging the heavy machine, which otherwise would have proved too much for one horse. The adventurers rode in the car, and Ned steered.
It was decided there would be no night traveling now, for they wanted to spare the horse as much as possible, and there was too much danger with the uncertain method of locomotion. So, when it grew dusk, camp was made and a fire built. Supper over, the travelers discussed the events of the day until, one by one, they fell asleep, after posting Ned as guard.
The boy took up his position in the shadow of a big tree where he could watch the auto and observe any one approaching within the circle of firelight. He was sleepy, but he fought off the drowsiness. Again and again his head would nod and he would just catch himself falling off into a doze.
“Come, this will never do,” he said, shaking himself wide awake. “I must get a drink of water. Maybe that will make me feel more lively.”
He walked over to where a pail of the liquid had been placed and took a long draught. As he was walking back to his place he started as he saw a bright shaft of light glaring through the trees about half a mile off to the left.
“That looked like a searchlight,” whispered the boy. The next instant the unmistakable chug-chug of an automobile could be heard.