Behind the boys sounded the yells and shouts of the men in camp, mingled with rifle shots and the screeching of several of the cougars, for, it developed, a band of three, grown desperate by hunger, had made an attack.
“Are you hurt, Jerry?” cried Bob and Ned, as, with his pails of water, the boy staggered into the cave.
“Not a bit, but I had a close shave,” was the answer. “But we must be quick! Here! Help fill the radiator with the water.”
“Can’t we drink any?” asked Bob who, like the others, was very thirsty.
“Not a drop,” said Jerry firmly. “We need every bit for the automobile. Without it we can’t get away from here, and now is the only chance we may have to escape. We can drink later.”
While Jerry and Ned filled the radiator the other boys and the professor made ready for the escape. Everything was packed up and placed in the car, which, as soon as the coil was filled, would be ready to start and dash from the cave.
“I’m afraid this is not going to be water enough,” spoke Jerry as the second of the pails was emptied into the radiator.
“Can’t I make a dash for some more? There seems to be excitement enough in the camp to keep them from watching me,” said Ned. “I’m going to try.”
There was considerable activity among the ranch men. The cougars, though wounded, seemed to have temporarily lost all fear and made attack after attack on the men, who had to fire several volleys from their rifles.
“Go ahead,” said Jerry. “I’ll start the engine slowly.”
Grabbing up the pails Ned walked from the cave.
“I’m going to help, also,” said Tommy.
“No, you stay here,” commanded Jerry. “Bob can go if he wants to.”
Bob joined Ned. They ran to the stream and had filled the pails when, just as they started on the way back, the wounded cougars, driven from the camp, came dashing after the boys.
“Now we’re in for it!” exclaimed Ned. “Run, Bob!”
And run they did, as they had never run before, and left the beasts behind.
“Have you the water?” asked Jerry eagerly as the boys came in.
“We have!” exclaimed Bob. “And hard enough work we had getting it.”
“Good!”
Jerry hurriedly poured most of it into the radiator, though every one in the cave looked at the fluid with longing eyes.
“I must get a drink soon, or I shall go half crazy!” said the professor suddenly. “I never was so thirsty in my life.”
“I’m saving just a little bit for each of us,” spoke Jerry. “But it is a very small quantity, and will only serve to wet our mouths. If all goes well we shall soon have plenty.”
He distributed about a pint of the water among his companions, and though each one got only a little it brought welcome relief.
“Now we’re ready to skip out!” announced Jerry as he screwed the cap on the radiator tank, and increased the speed of the engine. “But first we had better take a look outside to see if any of that gang are in sight.”
The professor, who had good eyes, went to the mouth of the cave, and, coming back, reported that he could see a dark mass moving on the further bank of the stream.
“They have evidently gotten over their scare about the cougars,” Mr. Snodgrass said, “and are waiting to bag us. What are we going to do?”
“There’s only one thing to do,” replied Jerry.
“And that is what?”
“We must make a dash for it. The road is fairly good, and I guess we can speed up enough to get out of the range of their bullets in a short time. They can’t be very good shots or they would have killed the three cougars, with all the bullets they fired.”
So it was decided. They all took their places in the car, and Jerry, who, as if by mutual consent, assumed the place of steersman, leaned forward to throw in the gear clutches.
“Here we go!” he cried. “Look out everybody!”
Slowly at first, but gathering speed, the auto moved out of the cave. The lamps lighted up the path, and, though the boys realized that the lanterns disclosed their position to their enemies, they had to use them for their own safety. It was too dark to do without them.
A few seconds later and the car emerged from the cavern. As it shot out there came a chorus of angry cries from the camp of the ranchmen, and several shots were fired, though none of them came close enough to be uncomfortable.
“Here we go!” cried Jerry again, as he increased the speed, and the auto fairly leaped forward. It swayed from side to side, and struck several ruts, so that the occupants were tossed about.
But the main thing was that they went ahead, and away from their enemies. Jerry, peering as best he could into the darkness ahead, made a course for the stream, intending to go close to it, and then run along the bank, or near it, as he had noted in the afternoon that there was a fairly good road there.
Gradually the shouts of the men, and the firing of their guns died away, and the travelers began to breathe more freely. They had made their escape, and, for the present, were safe.
“Oh do let’s stop and get a drink!” pleaded Bob.
“Not yet!” exclaimed Jerry. “Five minutes more will not kill you, and it may save all our lives,” for he did not want to slack up while there was any danger of the ranchmen coming after them.
The five minutes seemed like an hour to Bob, and the others, too, were impatient. But at last Jerry shut off the power and the machine came to a halt not far from the creek. Out scrambled the boys and the professor, and then, in spite of the danger of drinking snakes and lizards in the darkness, they all made for the stream, where they quenched their thirst from small collapsable cups which each one had been holding in readiness for just that chance.
“That’s better than an ice cream soda!” exclaimed Ned.
“You bet!” agreed Bob heartily. “I never tasted such fine water.”
“Very good!” said the professor.
“I guess we can stop long enough to lay in a supply now,” remarked Jerry. “We can start off again in five minutes, and in that time they can not catch up to us.”
So the radiator was filled to the top, and the auxiliary tank likewise, while the boys indulged freely in the liquid, thinking, perhaps, they might have some of the characteristics of the camel, and could drink enough at one time to last a week or more.
Then they started forward again, and the auto soon carried them beyond the possibility of capture that night. They camped out in the open, and, in spite of their rather exciting adventures they slept soundly, awaking as the sun rose.
Ned was given a chance to run the machine, and he took the front seat with Tommy, who was delighted to be there for the first time. They had not been going long before they found the land was rising.
“We’re coming into the mountains now,” said Jerry.
Up a long hill, with a gradual assent, puffed the auto. On either side were broad fields where tall Pampas grass was growing, amid which thousands of grasshoppers, or some similar insect, were singing.
“Better be sure your brake is in good working order,” suggested Jerry, as they came to the steep descent on the other side. “We don’t want any more accidents.”
Ned tried the ordinary brake. There was a clicking sound, followed by a snapping one.
“Brake’s busted!” exclaimed Jerry. “Try the emergency!”
Ned did so. That, too, gave out only a faint screech, and did not grip the axle as it should.
“Look out now!” yelled Jerry. “We’re in for it!”
An instant later the auto began to move forward at a rapid pace. All Ned’s efforts to check it were in vain.
“We’re running away!” cried frightened Tommy. “I wish I’d stayed in back!”
“Keep to the middle of the road!” Jerry cried above the noise of the auto rushing down the steep hill. At the bottom the road took a sharp turn, and the hearts of all beat rapidly with fear as they beheld it.
So rapidly did the machine shoot down the descent that it almost seemed the curved road was rushing to meet the travelers. Again and again Ned tried the brakes, but without avail. He had shut off the power at the first indication that something was wrong.
“We can never make that turn!” exclaimed Bob.
“I’m afraid not,” agreed Jerry.
They were all clinging to the sides of the car, while Ned gripped the steering wheel with a desperate hold.
“Look out for the turn!” cried the professor as they came to the sharp curve.
But, to the surprise of all, Ned, instead of shifting the wheel in at least an attempt to swing around the half circle kept straight on the course. The boy had resolved on another plan.
Directly in front of him, and to the left of the road was a big field of tall waving Pampas grass, the plumes nodding eight feet above the ground. It was shut off from the thoroughfare by a frail wooden fence.
“I’m going to steer into the grass!” cried Ned. “It’s our only chance!”
The next instant there was a splintering sound as the auto crashed through the fence, which offered no more resistance, because of the great speed, than a paper hoop does to a circus performer. Then it seemed to the travelers as though they had been plunged into a tossing, waving sea of grass.
The tall Pampas plumes and the stems wrapped themselves about the boys and the professor, almost choking them by the pollen that was shaken off. The feathery-like tops tickled them in the eyes, nose and mouth as, carried by the runaway auto, they were dashed through them.
But the grass had just the effect Ned had intended and hoped for. It clogged the wheels of the machine, and though soft, offered so much resistance that the machine soon began to slow down, as does a locomotive when it runs into a snow drift.
After plowing through the field for about two hundred feet the car came to a final stop, with a little jolt.
“Santa Maria! Caramba!” yelled a voice and then followed such a string of Spanish that the boys thought they had run down a whole camp of Mexican herders.
“Did we hit any one?” asked Jerry, peering forward as well as he could through the tall grass.
“Caramba! Hit any one! The Americano pirates have killed Don Elvardo!” exclaimed the unseen one. “You have broken—!” and then followed such a confusion of words that the boys could not understand.
“Have we broken your leg?” asked Jerry, speaking in Spanish this time.
“Santa Maria! No! You have broken the cigarette I just rolled!” and with that the grass parted in front of the auto, and a little Mexican, wearing a suit profusely trimmed with silver braid, showed himself.
The boys felt like laughing as they beheld the woe-begone face of Don Elvardo. In his hand he held the remains of a cigarette.
“Behold!” he went on tragically. “I am peacefully walking in my field, looking over my crop of Pampas, when I feel a desire to smoke. I sit me down and roll a cigarette. I am about to light it, when—Santa Maria! There is a rushing sound of ten thousand imps of darkness. My grass is mowed down as if by a sickle in the hands of a giant. I turn in fear! I see something coming! I can not tell what it is, for the tall grass hides it! I turn to flee! The infernal thing keeps after me! Presto! Caramba! It hits me so—”
Don Elvardo illustrated by slapping himself vigorously on the thigh.
“Then I fall! I am crushed! I am killed! I die in pain and fear! I arise! Behold, senor Americanos, my cigarette is broken!”
“We’re very sorry, of course,” said Jerry politely. “But you see our auto ran away on the hill, and as the brakes would not work, the only thing to save our lives was to steer into this field. We did not know you were here, or we would have sent around to your house to ask permission to enter,” added the lad sarcastically.
“But I am here!” snapped the Mexican.
“So we see,” admitted Jerry. “We are willing to pay for any damage we have done.”
The Mexican’s eyes sparkled, and he rubbed his hands as if in anticipation.
“That alters the case,” said Don Elvardo. “The Americano senors are welcome ten thousand times to my field. I bid you welcome. I salute you. Pay. Oh, yes! It is but right that you should pay!” Again he rubbed his hands together.
“About what would you say it was worth?” asked Ned.
“I am no miser,” replied the Mexican. “I do not wish to insult my friends the Americanos. I will only charge them for the damage to the grass. The broken fence is of no moment. Pay me one hundred dollars and I will say no more about the affair.”
“He’s a robber!” said Jerry in a low voice. “We haven’t done five dollars’ damage to his crop and the fence combined.”
“I guess he will whistle for his one hundred dollars,” said Ned.
Don Elvardo heard him.
“So!” he exclaimed. “You will not pay me one little hundred dollars for the damage. Caramba! Then it is I who shall at once lodge a complaint with the authorities. We will see if there is a law in the land, or if crazy Americanos can spoil a poor man’s crop and pay nothing. We shall see!”
“Offer him ten dollars,” suggested Bob. The boys consulted together a minute or two. They wanted to be fair, but they did not care to be robbed. The professor had taken no part in the discussion. He seemed to be intently examining the tall grass on either side of the machine.
Suddenly the scientist stepped from the side of the car, and rapidly made his way to the front, where Don Elvardo stood. Mr. Snodgrass gazed intently at the Mexican. Then he gave a leap toward the Don, exclaiming as he did so:
“There it is! Right on your hat! Don’t move an inch or it will jump away! I have it now! This is indeed a lucky day! Just a second and I’ll have it!”
With that the professor made a leap toward the Mexican with outstretched hands.
“Santa Maria! Diavolo?” screamed Don Elvardo as he saw the scientist coming for him. “Caramba! It is to murder me that you come!”
Then, calling for help at the top of his voice, the Mexican turned and fled in terror, his course being marked through the tall grass by the wave-like motion he imparted to the plumes in his haste.
“Why—why what in the world ails him?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“He probably thought you were going to choke him to death,” said Jerry with a laugh. “In fact your actions were not so very far from giving that idea.”
“Why bless my soul!” ejaculated the professor. “All I wanted was to get a fine specimen of a blue grasshopper from his big hat, where the insect had alighted. It was worth about forty dollars.”
“I saw some just as good in a city once for twenty dollars,” put in Tommy, “and they had more silver braid on.”
“What! A grasshopper with silver braid on?” cried the scientist.
“I thought you said his hat was worth forty dollars,” went on Tommy, somewhat embarrassed.
“I was speaking of the blue grasshopper,” explained Mr. Snodgrass. “My, I am sorry to have missed that one.”
“But you did a good service in scaring this Mexican away, as you did the chap with the ox cart,” spoke Ned. “He might have made trouble for us.”
“And we had better get out of here while we have the chance,” said Jerry. “He may come back any minute.”
Accordingly the auto was turned around, and run over the same course by which it had entered the field. Otherwise it would have been almost impossible to have advanced, so thick was the grass. The road regained, the machine was sent along it at good speed, for fear Don Elvardo or some of his friends might appear.
“We had better stop and fix the brakes,” suggested Ned, after an hour’s run.
“And get dinner at the same time,” put in Bob. “We’ll kill two stones with the same automobile, as the poem says.”
“I guess you’re a little twisted,” remarked Ned, “but your intentions are good.”
A halt was made under a big tree, near a little stream, and soon a good fire was built and dinner was being cooked.
It was found that some nuts had become loose on the brakes, and this trouble Jerry soon remedied. After the meal they sat about and talked a while.
“We’ll soon be in New Mexico,” remarked Jerry, consulting a small map.
“Will we?” asked Tommy. “I’m so glad.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a man who was once a friend of my father at a place called Las Cruces. It’s near the Rio Grande river. If we could go there I know Mr. Douglass would take care of me.”
“Then we’ll go there,” said Jerry. “It will be right on our route.”
They all agreed this would be a good plan. That night the travelers stopped in a small village where they had good beds and meals. They resumed the journey next day, and for several days thereafter met with no mishaps as they speeded toward Las Cruces. They had left the lowlands and were well up among the hills by this time.
One day, just at dusk, they rolled into Las Cruces and, after a little inquiry found Mr. Douglass, who was very glad to see Tommy.
“I will be glad to take care of him for the present,” he said.
The travelers found the town where Tommy’s friend lived such a pleasant place that they spent several days there. It was a thriving place, and the auto was a source of endless wonder to most of the inhabitants, who had never seen one.
Had the boys wished they could have made considerable money taking parties out in the car for short trips, but they knew they had a long journey before them and they wished to save the machine all they could. It needed some repairs which were made by the local blacksmith, and then the travelers were ready to move forward again.
“I don’t know how to thank you for all you did for me,” said Tommy, as the boys were leaving. “You saved my life. Maybe I will have a chance to do you a good turn some day. If I have, you can bet I’ll do it.”
“We know you will, Tommy,” said Jerry. “Well, good-by. I hope we see you again.”
“Same here!” exclaimed Bob and Ned.
They did not know how soon they were to meet their friend again, nor in what a peculiar manner he was able to aid them in return for what they had done for him.
For several days the auto skimmed along through a somewhat lonely country. The roads were not very good and a number of times progress was so slow that only a few miles were made between sunrise and sunset. Now and then the travelers would come to a lonely cabin, where they could replenish their food supply or get a night’s lodging. But, in the main, they had to depend on their own resources.
Occasionally they would reach a little settlement, where their arrival never failed to produce as much excitement as a fire and circus combined. Every day brought them nearer their gold mine, concerning which they were very anxious, as they had heard nothing further from Jim Nestor.
“The mine may have been taken away from him for all we know,” chafed Jerry as he fretted at the delay caused by bad roads.
“We’ll hope for the best,” said Ned. “No use crossing a bridge until you come to it.”
The travelers were well up among the lower mountains now, though compared with the heights they had still to scale the range was one of mere hills. One evening just at dusk, after a particularly hard day of travel, during which the auto had broken down several times, necessitating minor repairs, the Motor Boys came to a place where two roads divided.
“I wonder which we had better take?” asked Bob, who was at the wheel.
“The right,” said Jerry.
“The left,” advised Ned.
“Toss up a cent,” suggested the professor. “Make it heads right and tails left.”
They did so. The coin came down heads up, and Bob turned the machine to the right. It had not proceeded far on this road when, about a mile ahead, the travelers saw a couple of log cabins.
“Well, there’s shelter for to-night, at all events,” Jerry remarked, “and, I hope, supper as well. I’m getting a little tired of bacon and coffee.”
They found one of the cabins occupied by a negro, his wife, and seven children, the oldest a boy of sixteen and the youngest a little girl, just able to toddle.
“Good evening,” greeted the professor, “can we get supper and lodging anywhere about here?”
“I reckon I kin fix yo’ up on th’ eatin’ question, boss,” remarked the darkey as he stood in the cabin door as the auto drew up, “but I ’clare t’ goodness I can’t find no room t’ stable that there rip-snortin’ beast ye got.”
“We don’t expect you to take the auto in,” spoke Jerry. “If you give us beds for ourselves, or even a room to sleep in we’ll pay for it and glad to do it.”
“Land sakes, I’d like t’ ’blige yo’, deed ’n I would boss,” went on the negro, “but my cabin am jest crowded t’ th’ doah wif me an’ my fambily. Yo’ am welcome t’ suthin’ t’ eat, but land a’ massy whar I’se goin’ t’ have yo’ sleep hab got me cogitatin’.”
“What’s the matter with that other cabin?” asked Ned.
“What other cabin?” asked the negro, not turning to look in the direction of the second shack, about a quarter of a mile down the road.
“That one,” went on Ned, pointing to it. “There may be room in it.”
“Oh I reckon there’s room enough,” replied the colored man, “only—well to tell you th’ truff, boss, it ain’t exackly healthy t’ sleep in that cabin, er even t’ talk about it. ’Scuse me but I don’t want even t’ look at it.”
“Why not?”
The colored man seemed to hesitate. He fidgeted and seemed ready to go back into his house.
“Why not?” asked Ned again.
“Kase it’s—it’s got ghosts an’ it’s hanted!” exclaimed the negro, “an’ it ain’t safe fer any one to go near it, let alone sleep in it.”
“Nonsense,” remarked the professor. “There are no such things as ghosts.”
“Yo’ wouldn’t say so if yo’ went to that there cabin after dark,” persisted the colored man. “’Tain’t safe t’ talk about it, so yo’ll please ’scuse me.”
“But what sort of a ghost is it?” asked Jerry.
“It’s big an’ it’s white, an’ it rattles chains an’ groans sumthin’ turrible,” said the negro.
“Did you ever see it?” asked Ned.
“Did I ever see it, boss? Couse I done see it. Only t’other night it near skeered me to deff.”
“How long has it been there?” asked Bob.
“’Bout a week I reckon,” replied the negro. “Ever since Rastus Johnson moved away from th’ cabin.”
“I guess we’ll take a chance with the ghost for the sake of spending a night under shelter,” said Jerry. “Meanwhile we can get supper here.”
And a fine supper they had. Mrs. Jones, wife of the colored man, proved an excellent cook. She fried some chicken, made some corn bread, and that, with preserves and some good coffee, made up a meal which the travelers voted one of the finest they had eaten in many months.
“Can we get breakfast here, also?” asked Jerry when supper was finished.
“If yo’ am alive,” replied Jones solemnly.
“If we’re alive? What do you mean?”
“Well I reckon ef yo’ sleeps in that hanted cabin, there won’t be any of yo’ left t’ want a meal in th’ mo’nin’,” explained Jones. “It’s takin’ yo’uns’ lives in yo’ hands t’ go nigh it suah yo’ is boahn!”
All they could say did not induce the man to change his mind. He was plainly afraid of the cabin and the “ghost.”
But the travelers were determined not to let a little thing like that interfere with a chance to sleep under shelter. Accordingly they covered the auto with the tarpaulin provided for that purpose, and moved their blankets into the deserted cabin, which was fairly clean and in good condition. One of the big oil lamps gave sufficient light.
The cabin contained only two rooms, one on the ground floor, and the other above it, reached by a movable ladder.
“I think we had better sleep upstairs,” said Jerry. “The door doesn’t fasten very securely, and besides I think it will be drier there.”
So they mounted the ladder, spread their blankets out on the floor, and were all soon fast asleep. None of them expected to be disturbed, for they laid the story of the ghost to an overwrought imagination of the colored man.
So it was with a sudden feeling of terror that Jerry was awakened in the middle of the night by hearing a deep groan, seeming to come from the room below.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes to further awaken himself, and then he became aware that Bob was also sitting up. He could see because of the moonlight streaming in through a window.
“Did you hear anything?” asked Jerry.
“I thought so,” answered Bob.
“I thought I did,” put in Ned, who, it seems had been awakened at the same time the others were.
Once more there sounded an unmistakable groan. It came from the ground floor, and was so loud, penetrating and, in spite of the would-be bravery of the boys, so awful coming out of the darkness, that they shuddered.
“What’s that?” asked the professor, who also, this time, was roused from his slumbers.
Before either of the boys could answer the groan was repeated and this time it was followed by the unmistakable clanking of chains.
“The colored man’s ghost!” whispered Bob.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed the professor, but, no sooner had he spoken than there came another weird noise, and the chains rattled louder than ever.
“Light the lantern,” whispered Jerry. “We must see what it is. Perhaps it’s only some one playing a joke.”
“Let me take a look before you make a light,” suggested the professor. “I can look down the ladder hole.”
Softly he crawled over to the opening and peered down. As he did so the noises were repeated. The professor uttered an exclamation.
“It bears the other descriptive marks of the creature the negro told about,” he said, crawling back to where the boys were huddled together. “It is big and white and it seems to be trying to climb up the ladder.”
“Wait until I get my revolver,” whispered Jerry. “We’ll soon see if it’s a ghost or not.”
“Don’t fire,” cautioned the professor. “It may be some one trying to scare us, but we have no right to fire at any one.”
“I’ll give ’em a warning, at any rate,” said the lad. He went to the opening and called down:
“Tell us who you are or I’ll shoot, do you hear?”
A groan and the clanking of chains was the only answer. This was followed by a violent agitation and shaking of the ladder.
“Bang!” went Jerry’s revolver. He had fired into the air.
Succeeding the report there was a silence. This was broken by a further clanking of chains. Then came a crash, and when the echo of this died away the sound of feet running away could be heard.
“Pretty solid footsteps for a ghost,” commented Ned.
“Look! Look!” cried Bob, pointing out of the window.
There, running down the moon-lit road the boys saw a big white mule, to the neck of which was fastened a chain that rattled with every step.
“There’s the ghost,” said the professor. “I thought I recognized the voice as that of a quadruped with which I was familiar. The animal has probably broken loose from the field and came here in search of food.”
“Well it certainly scared me all right,” admitted Bob. The others did not commit themselves, but there was no doubt but that they had several heart-flutters.
“I wonder what that crash was?” asked Ned.
The professor glanced down the hole leading to the first floor.
“The ghost made it by kicking our ladder away,” the scientist replied. “I wonder how we can get down.”
But the boys did not worry about this, being too sleepy. Soon they were all snoring again, and did not awaken until the sun was streaming in the window.
“This is a nice pickle!” exclaimed Bob, who was the first to rise.
“What’s the matter, lost your collar button?” sleepily inquired Jerry.
“No, but the mule knocked the ladder down, and we’ll have to jump or stay here.”
“It isn’t far to the ground in this shanty,” remarked Jerry. “Go ahead and drop down.”
“It may not be very far,” said Bob, “but I don’t want to take the chance.”
“Afraid you’ll sprain your ankle?”
“No, but I don’t want to fall into the cistern.”
“Cistern? What are you talking about?”
“Well,” went on Bob, “there’s a cistern right under this ladder opening. The mule pulled the cover off last night, and whoever drops down is going to land goodness knows where.”
The others soon confirmed what Bob had said. When the cabin was built a cistern had been sunk in the middle of the ground floor. This had been covered, and the ladder rested on it when the travelers went to bed, but the mule, probably in search for a drink, uncovered it.
“Can’t get down without a ladder,” observed Ned.
“What’s the matter with jumping from one of the outside windows?” asked Jerry.
They thought the idea a good one until they saw that the only one there was opened onto a pile of sharp rocks, into which even a jump of fifteen feet might be dangerous.
“What’s to be done?” asked Bob.
“Guess we’ll have to wait until Jones comes to see if we are dead,” replied Jerry. “Then he can cover the cistern and raise the ladder.”
“I guess we’ll have a long wait for Jones,” commented Ned. “He’s so afraid of this place that he’ll never come within hearing distance of it.”
“Let’s yell out of the window,” suggested Bob.
They did so, uniting their voices in a volume of sound. It seemed to have no effect though, for there was no movement about the colored man’s cabin.
“Once more,” urged the professor.
This time they produced a result, for, down the road they could see Jones come to the door of his shack and peer out. Thereupon they waved their hands to him, and in a few minutes the colored man was standing as close as he seemed to dare to come to their shelter.
“Is yo’ all daid?” he asked in awed accents.
“Not quite all of us,” answered the professor, “but we will be unless you come in and hoist the ladder for us.”
“Did th’—th’ ghost knock it down?” asked Jones.
“It did,” replied Bob, solemnly.
“I knowed it! I knowed it! Maybe you’ll believe me next time. Golly! I ain’t goin’ t’ stay here,” and Jones was about to run off down the road.
“Here! Come back!” commanded the captives, and the colored man reluctantly did so.
“I doan laik t’ stay round yeah!” pleaded the negro. “’Tain’t no ways healthy. What yo’ done want, anyhow?”
“We want you to hoist the ladder for us,” said the professor. “Come now, don’t be silly. The only ghost there was, and we saw it, was an old white mule with a chain on its neck.”
“Co’se it were! Dat’s de form it took when I seed it!” cried Jones. “But it can take on any shape, dat ghost can. Next time it’ll be a lion er a tiger er a elephant. Monstrous terrible things, ha’nts is. So de ghost done knocked de ladder down! I knowed it would do suthin’.”
Amid a show of genuine fear the colored man entered the cabin, and after replacing the cistern cover cautiously raised the ladder. Then he ran out as if the ghost were after him.
“I guess we’ll never be able to convince Jones that there isn’t a ghost here,” said Jerry as they came down and started down the road toward the colored man’s cabin, where they were to have breakfast.
“Here’s something that may prove to him that the mule was the ghost,” spoke Ned, picking up a horse shoe, which was on the cabin floor.
They showed it to the negro, but he only shook his head.
“It looks like a hoss shoe, dat I admit,” said Jones, “but it’s enchanted. It’ll turn inter a snake er a tiger er suthin’ terruble ’fore long. I don’t want nothin’ t’ do with it,” and he cast it into the bushes by the side of the road.
The excitement of the night had taken none of the travelers’ appetites away, and they made a good meal. Then, once more they took the road, disappearing in a cloud of dust, while Jones, his wife, and the seven children stood and stared in wonder.
They traveled all that day with only an occasional glimpse of civilization in the shape of some house or cabin. No villages were reached, it being a centre of vast grazing lands, where only a lonely herder, or, perhaps two, remained to guard the cattle. That night they camped in the open, and found it rather uncomfortable, for it began to rain about midnight.
“I wish we were back in the cabin, with the ghost-mule and everything else,” muttered Jerry, as he tried to find a dry spot to lie down on.
But troubles can not last forever, and morning came finally, bringing a clear day and a bright sun which was very welcome.
Breakfast over they took the road once more. About noon they came to a small town that boasted of what was called the “Imperial Hotel.”
“I suppose we’d better try the Imperial,” suggested Ned. “It don’t look very scrumptious, but you can’t always tell by the appearance of a toad how far he can jump.”
The auto drew up in front of the inn with a noise that brought a score of men from the barroom.
“Jumpin’ Gila Monsters and rattlesnakes!” cried one of the men, evidently a miner from his dress. “I’ve read about them Satan go-carts, but I never believed in ’em. Sakes alive, but they do look funny without a hoss in front.”
He and the others gathered about the car, asking so many questions that it took all the boys and the professor as well to answer them. When curiosity had been partially satisfied the boys went into the hotel. While there was nothing to make a weary traveler glad he had found it, the place was not as bad as many where the Motor Boys had stopped. They had a good meal, and decided to rest a few hours before proceeding.
It was along about three o’clock. The crowd of men in the barroom had become larger as new comers arrived. It was also noisier and loud voices, and occasional threats to shoot, made the travelers think it was about time to move on.
They were about to go to their machine when they were approached on the porch where they were sitting, by the miner who had first remarked about the auto. He had evidently been drinking more than was good for him, and was in a quarrelsome mood.
“If you don’t want to play with me you needn’t,” he called, evidently to some one inside. “I can find some one to shuffle the cards with me. Here, you kid”—to Jerry, “you come an’ we’ll have a little game.”
“Thank you, I don’t play,” said Jerry quietly.
“What’s that?” came the sharp return.
“I said I didn’t play.”
“Why hang my buttons! You got to play when I tell you to,” cried the miner. “Pete Simmons ain’t used to bein’ told no. Here, sit down to this table an’ deal the cards,” and he grabbed Jerry by the arm, and attempted to force him into a chair.
“Let go my arm!” exclaimed Jerry.
“You do as I tell you or I’ll make you!” exclaimed the brute. “I’m used to havin’ my way!”
“Take your hand off!” commanded Jerry, drawing back his fist, for he was strong and hot tempered.
“Now be nice, be nice!” sneered the man.
“Let go of him!” exclaimed Ned coming forward and standing beside his chum, while Bob also ranged up alongside. “We’ll all take a hand in this if you force us to.”
“I can tackle the three of you with both hands tied behind my back,” cried the miner, flushing with anger at being defied by the boys.
“Count me in too,” spoke Professor Snodgrass, joining the lads. “I don’t want to fight, but I will if I have to.”
Now the professor, though a mild man, was, by reason of his out-of-door life, in fine physical condition, and no mean antagonist, which fact the miner saw.
“Oh well, I was only foolin’,” the ugly chap remarked with a poor attempt at a smile. But his face showed his rage. He moved away in a few seconds, and shuffled to the end of the porch, where he soon fell asleep on a bench.
Bob looked over and saw him, as the boys were discussing the program for the remainder of the day.
“Let’s play a trick on that brute,” said Bob.
“What kind?” asked Jerry.
“You watch,” replied Chunky. “You’ll see some fun.”
Now it happened that the professor had among his collection of specimens several large stuffed snakes, for he was an expert taxidermist. There were also several horned toads and big lizards. Bob got several of the ugliest ones and, with the aid of the scientist, who entered into the plan to pay a well deserved lesson to the miner, arranged the things about the sleeper, on the bench and on the floor of the porch.
By this time most of the crowd at the hotel was aware what was going on, and, as few of them had any too much love for Simmons they waited the outcome with interest. When the reptiles were placed in a circle about the sleeping miner, one of the men fired his revolver in the air. At the sound Simmons awoke.
At first he did not notice the reptiles, as he was on his back, staring up at the sky. Then he suddenly sat up, and caught a glimpse of the ugly looking things. For a moment he seemed to be in doubt as to what he beheld. Then he let out a yell that could have been heard almost a half mile.
“Wow!” he cried. “Take ’em away. I’ll never drink another drop! Honest I won’t! Oh! Oh! the horrible snakes! I’ll shut my eyes so I can’t see ’em!”
But when he opened them again the reptiles were still there.
“Oh! Oh! I see ’em still!” he yelled. “Take ’em away, somebody, please do. Oh I forgot! They ain’t real! I only imagine I see ’em!”
He got up on the bench and was dancing about in terror. Then he drew his revolver, and was about to fire into the midst of the snakes.
“He’ll ruin my specimens!” cried the professor.
One of the men ran forward, and began collecting the reptiles. Simmons saw them being gathered up, and noticed that they were not wiggling. Then the truth of it dawned on him, and he knew he had been fooled. His companions laughed loud and long. But Simmons, unable to stand the jokes and jibes he knew would be poked at him, leaped over the porch railing and ran down the road as fast as he could go.
“Serves him right!” was the general verdict.
The trick Bob had played seemed to be much appreciated among the crowd of miners and herdsmen who were gathered at the hotel. They laughed loud and long over the sight Simmons had presented.
“I guess he’ll know better than to fool with the next lad that comes along in one of them choo-choo wagons,” was the hotel proprietor’s comment.
Bob gathered up the specimens that belonged to the professor and they were put in the car, together with a fresh supply of provisions that were purchased at the village store.
“I guess we’ll be traveling,” suggested the professor. The boys agreed with him, for though they knew the pleasures of sleeping beneath a roof, yet the character of the men who stayed at the hotel was so rough that they feared further rows. So, in spite of the entreaties of the hotel keeper they started off, having inquired the best roads to take.
Through the afternoon they bowled over a well elevated table land. The air was fine and bracing. Off in the distance to the west could be seen the first ranges of the big mountains.
“That’s where our mine is,” said Jerry, his eyes shining.
“Maybe it isn’t ours after all,” put in Bob.
“Now there you go, Chunky. What do you want to call up unpleasant subjects for?” asked Ned reproachfully. “Anyhow it’s our mine until some one takes it away from us, and I guess they’ll have quite a fight, with Nestor on guard.”
The others thought so too. Jerry, who was steering, was sending the auto forward at a fast clip, when the professor, who always had his eyes open called out:
“What’s that just ahead of us? Looks like a bear.”
“Where?” asked Ned.
“Right in line with that big rock,” went on the scientist, who had very good eyes and could see a long distance.
“It’s only a tree stump,” spoke Bob.
“I didn’t know tree stumps could move,” went on Mr. Snodgrass, “for this one is certainly coming toward us. It’s not a bear after all,” he continued, now that the object was nearer. “It’s a bull! That’s what it is! It looks as if it meant to go for us!”
The boys could now see that the beast was one of the big, long-horned western cattle. It had evidently strayed from the herd, or had been made an outcast because of a bad temper and a perpetual desire to fight. The latter seemed more likely, for, as the auto proceeded, and the bull came on, lessening the distance between the two, a defiant bellow of rage sounded.
“I hope he don’t try to ram us,” spoke Jerry. “We don’t want any more collisions.”
“See if you can’t run away from him,” suggested Ned.
By this time the bull was about one hundred yards away. It was coming straight for the auto. Jerry opened the muffler and at the sound of the explosions the bull stopped short.
At this point the road ran in a sort of depression, with hills rising on either side. It was rather narrow, so there was no chance to turn to one side. Jerry had to bring the machine to a stop or else run the risk of hitting the bull. He thought the animal might run away if it saw the machine coming toward him, but there was nothing sure about this.
“Well, this is a regular hold-up,” said the professor. “I wonder whether the bull wants to collect toll?”
The animal seemed to be growing angrier and angrier every minute. It bellowed loudly, pawed the earth with its hoofs, and shook the lowered head, armed with sharp horns. Occasionally the keen points would tear up the ground.
“I wouldn’t want him to strike one of our tires,” remarked Ned. “It would be all up with it.”
“Hurrah! I have it!” cried Bob at length.
He dove beneath the rear seat and pulled up a shining object.
“The ammonia squirt gun!” he exclaimed. “The same we used on the hold-up tramps. Give the bull a dose of it!”
“Good idea,” commented Jerry.
The bulb of the automatic pistol was still filled with the fiery liquid, for the boys kept it loaded in readiness for use. Bob handed it over to Jerry. The latter took careful aim, and pressed the rubber. A fine stream of the powerful stuff struck the bull full in the face.
With a bellow that fairly shook the ground near-by the bull reared up in the air, and coming down on all fours snorted with rage, shook its head to rid its eyes of the terrible burning, and then dashed madly away.
“Now I guess we can get past,” remarked Bob, “and get some supper. I’m as hungry as a bear.”
A good fire was soon started and Ned began to prepare the meal. While the others were setting out the dishes, or getting ready for the night camp, since it seemed there was no place for shelter in the neighborhood, the travelers were startled by a voice:
“Evenin’ strangers,” called a tall, thin man who strolled down the slight hill at the foot of which the party were encamped. “Have you got a bite to spare?”
“Plenty,” replied the professor cheerfully. “Come right along. Supper will be ready in a little while. Are you hungry?”
“Hungry? I should say so. I haven’t had a bit to eat for two days, except what berries and old nuts I could gather.”
“What’s the matter? Get lost?” asked Jerry.
“Exactly,” replied the stranger. “My name’s Johnson,” he went on. “I was prospecting up in the hills, and got lost there.”
“Anybody with you?” asked Ned.
“Nary a soul; I’m all alone. I used up the last of my grub in trying to find the trail, and I guess I’d been looking for it yet if I hadn’t heard the noise of your steam engine here, and smelled the cooking. I s’pose you’re huntin’ for it, same as me.”
“Hunting for what?” asked the professor, struck by Johnson’s manner.
“Why Lost Lake, to be sure. Nobody comes out this far unless they’re huntin’ for the lake, but you’re the first to come in a steam car without rails.”
“Well, it’s a free country,” remarked the scientist, wishing to evade giving a direct answer, in the hope of learning something. “I guess we have a right to hunt for the lake.”
“Of course, of course you have, strangers,” went on Johnson. “No offense. Have you struck a trace of it yet?”
“Not yet,” replied Mr. Snodgrass. “To tell you the truth,” the professor went on, “we don’t know much about this lost lake.”
“Nor no one else,” said Johnson. “I’ll tell you all I know, which isn’t much. I’ve been looking for it ’most a year now.”
“Suppose we have supper first,” suggested the professor as he noted the eyes Johnson was casting at the food. “We can talk afterward.”
“That’s the best word I’ve heard in a good while,” said the newcomer.
He ate with a rapidity that left no doubt about his hunger. Nor were the others far behind him, as the crisp air of the mountain region had given them all famous appetites.
“Now for Lost Lake,” spoke Jerry when all had their fill.
“It’s supposed to be in those mountains over there,” began Johnson, pointing to the range off in the west, now dimly discernible in the dusk. “It’s said to be a beautiful sheet of water, with high peaks all around it. It was discovered forty years ago by a prospector, and he came to the nearest village with the news. But when he went to lead a party back they couldn’t find the trail. Ever since then people have tried to find Lost Lake, but no one has ever succeeded. Many have been killed trying.”
“But why does any one want to find a lake hidden in the mountains?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“Yes, tell us?” asked Ned.
“Why, for the gold on its banks, of course,” said Johnson. “Didn’t I say that? I meant to. The man who discovered it said there were pebbles of gold on the shores. He brought back a pocket full to prove it. I got the fever quite a few months ago, but nothing has come of all my efforts, and this time I nearly died. It was terrible up in the mountains. There’s not a soul there I believe.”
“And you didn’t even get a glimpse of the lake?” asked Ned.
“Nary a look, young man. But I’m sure it’s there. I’m going back to town, get a new outfit and some provisions, and have another try.”
He was another example of how the gold fever grips one.
“Maybe we’ll come across the lake, though we’re not looking for it,” said Jerry.
“Maybe you will,” assented the prospector. “That’s generally the way. The first man was not hunting for it, but he came upon it one night when the moon was shining. If you do find it, look out for the old hermit, that’s all.”
“What hermit?” asked Jerry.
“Why you haven’t heard half the story of Lost Lake,” went on Johnson. “There’s supposed to be a sort of wild man who lives on the shores of the lake, and he murders travelers. At least that’s the yarn they tell.”
“Was the hermit always there?” asked Ned.
“No, only the last few years,” replied Johnson. “He is said to be an old man with white hair. But I don’t believe that part. Let me find the lake and the gold, and I won’t worry about hermits.”
The prospector camped with the travelers that night. They were all up early the next morning, and, at the professor’s suggestion the boys gave Johnson plenty of provisions to last him until he could get back to civilization.
“Maybe you would like to go along with us and look for the lake?” suggested Bob.
“No, thank you,” replied Johnson. “I’m afraid your chances of finding it are slimmer than mine are. I’ll have another try all by myself. I’m much obliged for the help you’ve given me.”
Then, shouldering his pack, he started off down the trail, while the travelers, packing their things in the auto, set forward again.
The boys talked about little save the story of Lost Lake, but the professor was too busy arranging his latest specimens to join in the conversation.
“I’d like to find it and see the wild hermit,” said Bob.
“I don’t s’pose you’d care anything about the gold,” put in Ned.
“Of course I would,” replied Bob. “But we’ve got one gold mine now, what do we want of another?”
“It might be well to have a second in case we lose the first,” Jerry ventured. “Nothing like having plenty while you’re at it.”
“I wouldn’t like to be a hermit,” went on Bob. “Think of always being hungry.”
“Chunky is thinking of misers, I guess,” laughed Ned. “There’s nothing to prevent a hermit from living off the fat of the land. If it wasn’t for being lonesome I’d be a hermit for a while.”
“Stop the auto!” called the professor suddenly. “I just saw a fine specimen of a snapping turtle scoot across the road. I must have it. It’s worth about twenty dollars to me. Stop the car! I must get out!”
Ned, who was running the auto, shut off the power and the machine came to a stop. Before it had ceased to move Mr. Snodgrass had leaped out and was running back. He began a hurried but careful search over the ground. Then he was seen to spring forward.
“He’s got it, I guess,” remarked Jerry.
An instant later there came a howl from the scientist, who was hidden from sight by the tall grass.
“Help, boys! Help!”
“What’s the matter? Won’t he let you catch him?” cried Ned.
“He’s caught me!” yelled the professor. “Come quick and bring a knife to cut his head off with!”
The boys piled out of the auto in a hurry, Jerry stopping to grab up a big carving knife from the camp utensils.
When they came up to the professor they hardly knew whether to laugh or not. The turtle, which was a big one, had grabbed the scientist by the thumb, and was clinging so tightly that it was suspended in the air, swaying to and fro. Meanwhile Mr. Snodgrass was dancing about in pain.
“Why don’t you take hold of the turtle’s shell in the other hand, and you won’t feel the weight so much!” called Jerry.
“I can’t,” replied the professor. “I have a rare specimen of a toad in my other hand, and I don’t want to lose it. Oh boys! Hurry up, and pry the turtle’s jaws open, but don’t hurt him, for he’s valuable.”
“Can’t you put the toad in your pocket?” asked Ned, knowing the scientist had no scruples about loading his garments up with all sorts of things. “Then you would have one hand free.”
“I never thought of that,” said Mr. Snodgrass. “I can do that, can’t I?”
He did so, and, once the toad was secure he took hold of the turtle, which relieved his lacerated thumb from the dragging weight.
“He won’t let go!” exclaimed the professor, after a vain attempt to pull the turtle loose. “It is a genuine snapper, and they have a grip like a bull dog. I am glad I found it, in spite of the pain,” he added, though just then, the turtle took a fresh hold and the professor squirmed in agony.
“Here; I’ll cut its head off,” said Jerry, coming forward with the knife.
“No, no!” exclaimed the professor. “It is too valuable to spoil. Just take the point of the blade, and pry the jaws open while I hold it steady.”
Jerry tried to do this, but the turtle only seemed to grip the tighter, and the professor’s thumb was bitten through nearly to the bone.
“What shall I do?” wailed Mr. Snodgrass. “I don’t want to kill it.”
“I have it!” exclaimed Ned. “There’s a little puddle of water over there beside the road. Dip the turtle in it, and he’ll think he can swim. Then he’ll let go.”
“Good!” cried the professor as he proceeded to put the plan in operation. “Then I can save him alive.”
The scheme worked well. As soon as the turtle felt the water it let go, and started to swim off. But the puddle was too shallow, and the professor, watching his chance, grabbed the reptile again. This time he took care to catch it at the middle of the shell, where the turtle could not reach around and bite.
“I have it, after all,” remarked the scientist as he deposited his prize in a box, and proceeded to put some salve and a rag on his thumb. “It’s a rare specimen. I’m glad I got it.”
“And we’re all glad we didn’t get it,” spoke Jerry with a laugh in which the others joined. But the professor took it good naturedly. He was used to such accidents he said.
Resuming their journey, the travelers made only one more stop, that at noon, to get dinner. They had seen no signs of human habitation, and, as the afternoon wore on, and no house or cabin was seen, they began to feel that they might as well prepare to camp out again.
As they were descending a gentle, sloping hill that led down into a small valley, just as the sun was setting, they saw, about a mile ahead a lonely cabin. The sight of smoke coming from the chimney told them there was some one at home.
“I hope whoever lives there can accommodate us,” remarked Chunky. “My appetite’s getting the upper hand of me again.”
“It don’t look large enough to hold us all,” observed Jerry.
“There’s a barn, or some sort of building, in the rear,” remarked Ned. “Some of us can use that if the man or woman lets us.”
A few minutes later the auto came to a stop in front of the cabin, which was indeed a lonely one, not another dwelling, large or small, showing in the whole valley.
“Good evening,” greeted an old man, with snow-white hair falling over his shoulders. He came to the door of the shack, and seemed to regard the coming travelers as a matter of course. “I am glad to see you,” he went on. “You are just in time.”
“Time for what?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“For the great final and successful experiment,” proceeded the aged man. “The test is about to begin. Come in and see me make gold from common earth. At last I have found the long-lost secret!”
The eyes of the lonely man glowed with a strange light, and he seemed so excited that the boys did not know what to do.
“Humor him,” advised the professor in a whisper. “He is probably a harmless lunatic. Let him have his way, and pretend to agree with all he says.”
“Will you come in?” went on the old man. “I must proceed with my work.”
“We’ll be glad to,” went on the scientist. “That is, if we will not disturb you at your labors.”
“My labors are now ended,” the man said. “I have worked for twenty years on the secret of making gold from the baser metals. At last I have the correct method. I will be a millionaire in another month. But come in! Come in!”
The boys, obeying Mr. Snodgrass’s advice, went in, the scientist following them. They saw that the cabin, though small, was neat and clean. Nearly all of the first of two rooms was occupied by a large, rudely made furnace, while on a table near it stood all sorts of chemical apparatus. On the furnace a pot was boiling furiously.
“Now for the last act in the drama of life,” said the aged man. “See, I place in the pot these pieces of brass,” and he showed the travelers some chunks of the yellow stuff. He put them in the pot, from which arose a cloud of steam.
“Next I throw in this powder, which I have labored on for years. It is the secret that men would give their lives for.”
He threw the powder into the pot, which boiled more furiously than before, and a white cloud of steam arose. Then it died away, and the pot seemed to cool off.
“Now for the gold!” exclaimed the chemist.
He lifted the pot from the furnace, and, holding it with some thick cloths poured the water off into a hole in the ground floor of the cabin. Out toppled the pieces of brass which had been thrown in, but while they had been dull before, they now glittered with the yellow gleam of gold.
“The test! The test!” exclaimed the old man in a voice that trembled with eagerness.
He placed one of the yellow pieces on the table, and put a few drops of gold-testing acid on it. There was a little hissing sound, and then, on the shiny surface of the piece of metal there came a dull black spot. The old man uttered a despairing cry.
“Another failure!” he exclaimed. “It is brass still. I thought it would turn to gold! I must have made a mistake in mixing the powder.”