For a few moments the scientist who hoped he had discovered the fabled power to transmute metals stared at the result of his latest trial. He appeared lost in thought. Then he seemed to recollect that there were strangers present.
“I am sorry my experiment did not succeed,” he said in a more quiet voice than he had yet used. “I hoped to show you what I can do. Well, I must try again. I think I know where I made the error. I had too much soda in the powder. I will use less next time.”
“We are sorry to interrupt your experiments,” put in the professor, “but we are travelers, and our object in stopping here was to find out if you could take us in for the night.”
“Gladly,” replied the old man. “There is a barn in the rear, but it has not been occupied in years; not since I came here. You are welcome to use that. Some of you can spend the night in the rear room. As for me I shall not go to bed. I must start at once and make up some fresh powders.”
“I think perhaps we had all better sleep in the barn,” said the professor. “Then we will not disturb you at your labors.”
The truth of it was Mr. Snodgrass saw that the aged man was not altogether right in his head, and he preferred not to be too near in case the fellow should suddenly become violent.
“Just as you like, just as you like,” was the reply to the professor’s decision, and the chemist seemed to be dreaming over some problem he was trying to solve.
“May we cook some of our food on your stove?” asked Jerry.
“Why certainly. I beg your pardon for not mentioning supper,” spoke the man, “but you see I am so used to getting a bite whenever I need it, so as not to interrupt my work, that I forgot there is such a thing as hospitality. Make yourselves at home, and, if you find anything in the cupboards help yourselves. Meanwhile please excuse me if I do not join you. I must go out and gather some roots and herbs I need in my experiments.”
He left the cabin, and, after bringing in some provisions from the auto, having first ascertained that there were few in the cabin, the travelers proceeded to make a meal.
“Do you suppose he can be the hermit of Lost Lake?” asked Bob.
“Well, he’s certainly a hermit,” spoke the professor, “but I don’t believe there’s a lake of any kind about here. Certainly if he was the hermit of the lake he would not be away off here. No, I am inclined to think we shall never see the lost lake or the hermit either.”
“Do you think it will be safe to stay here all night?” inquired Chunky.
“I think so,” was the professor’s reply. “You see we will be out in another building, and we can fasten the door. If he tries to get in, which I am sure he will not, he will make noise enough to awaken us.”
“We could mount guard,” suggested Ned.
“It will not be necessary,” Mr. Snodgrass said.
Nor did the travelers find it so. After their meal, having left a good supply of victuals for the old man in case he came back, they retired to the rear building where they slept soundly.
After breakfast, which the old man did not spend more than five minutes over, the travelers prepared to resume their trip.
“You had better stay one more night,” urged the owner of the cabin. “I feel sure that I shall be successful to-night. I have discovered a new root. See, I call it gold threads,” and he held up some bulbs that had been dug from the ground. Clinging to them were small yellow fibres or roots. “I found them last night, down in the hollow by the mineral spring,” the man went on. “I am sure they are just what I need. Please stay; won’t you?”
But the professor told him, as gently as possible, that they must keep on. So, after bidding the gold-seeker good bye, and wishing him success, the boys and Mr. Snodgrass proceeded, the auto puffing along at a good rate.
The weather continued fine and the air was bracing and cool, for they were well up among the foothills now. During the morning the road led up a gentle slope, but at noon they camped on a sort of ridge that marked the divide. On the other side was a vast plain, bounded at the further side by tall mountains.
It was well along in the afternoon, when having descended to the plain, the travelers found themselves bowling along a fine road, on either side of which were rolling fields. Mile after mile was covered, everyone enjoying the trip very much. The professor, however, was beginning to show signs of uneasiness. He fidgeted about in his seat, and seemed unable to remain quiet.
“What’s the matter?” asked Bob at length.
“To tell you the truth,” said the scientist, “I want to get out and get some specimens, but I did not like to ask you, for I do not want to delay the party.”
They all voted that the professor should be given a chance to get as many specimens as he wanted. Accordingly Jerry brought the car to a stop, and the boys and the scientist got out.
As the engine had not been running as smoothly as was desirable Jerry did not shut off the power, merely throwing out the gear clutches. He said he wanted to have the cylinders warm up, and so the engine was left going, though the car itself stood still.
The professor was soon busy gathering insects of various kinds from the tall grass, and even crawling on his hands and knees over the ground. The boys walked some distance off, to stretch their legs, for they were a little tired of sitting still so long.
Suddenly Bob, who happened to glance back toward the auto, uttered a cry.
“Look!” he shouted. “Some one is stealing our car and going off in it!”
The others looked. The sight that met their eyes was enough to astonish any one. Climbing into the automobile was a big Indian, attired in gay colored blankets, a rifle slung across his back, while near him stood a Pinto pony, clean-cut and wiry.
While they watched they saw the red man seat himself comfortably at the steering wheel, reach forward to throw the gear clutch in place, and then the car moved off, taking the Indian with it.
“Here! Come back!”
“Stop that auto!”
“Get out of that!”
These were some of the things the boys yelled at the bold thief. But all of no avail. The Indian threw in the second gear, and the auto went faster than before.
“Come on! We must catch him!” cried Jerry, and he began to run in the direction the auto was fast disappearing in, down the road.
“We can never catch him,” called Bob.
“Yes we can! He can’t know anything about running an auto!” panted Jerry. “He’ll put on the brake or pull the wrong lever next, and the machine will stop!”
“That is unless he blows it up first or smashes it,” said Bob.
“What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Snodgrass, appearing at this juncture.
Bob was the only one left to tell him, as Jerry and Ned were running down the road at top speed. But it seemed that their race would be useless, for the auto was now running on third gear. And, strangest of all, the Indian seemed to know how to operate it. He kept a straight course, and the puffing of the exhaust told Jerry that the engine was running to perfection, with a good supply of gasolene, and the spark coming regularly.
“Who—ever—heard—of—an—Indian running—an—auto,” panted Ned.
“Running—away—with—one—you—mean,” said Jerry, his breathing labored.
Further and further away from the pursuing boys the auto went. It seemed hopeless to keep after it, but neither Jerry nor Ned would give up. They realized what it meant to lose their machine, though they could not understand how an Indian, in all his wild regalia, would think of getting into an auto.
Suddenly there sounded down the road the patter of hoof beats.
“Maybe that’s more Indians,” said Jerry turning around and slowing up in his running.
“No,” he added, “it’s Bob on the Indian’s pony. I wonder you or I didn’t think of that.”
“He couldn’t catch up with the auto if he had two ponies,” growled Ned.
“The only chance is that the gasolene may give out, or the sparker refuse to work, or that he may run into a sand bank,” lamented Jerry.
“And there don’t seem to be much chance of either taking place right off,” put in Ned. “Hark! What’s that?”
From down the road sounded the Toot! Toot! of the auto horn.
“It sounds as if he was coming back,” said Jerry. Just then Bob caught up to them on the pony.
“Let me past! I’ll catch him!” cried Bob.
“Wait a minute! Maybe that’s him coming back?” replied Jerry.
Sure enough the next instant the auto, which had been lost to sight by reason of a turn in the road, came into view.
Straight up the highway it came, the figure of the Indian, wrapped in his blanket, with his headdress of feathers, an altogether brilliant figure, seated at the wheel; a strange enough combination as any one will admit.
The red man acted as though he had been used to running autos all his life. He sat straight as an arrow, his hands grasping the wheel, which was sending the car straight for the boys.
“He’s just doing this to taunt us!” exclaimed Jerry. “I have a good notion to take a shot at one of the tires with my revolver and scare him into stopping.”
“Don’t do it! You might kill him,” said Ned, “and you wouldn’t want to do that. But what does he mean by stealing the car, and then bringing it back?”
A few seconds later the auto drew up in front of the boys, who had come to a halt. With an ease that bespoke long experience the Indian brought the machine to a stop, and then, while the lads looked on, so full of wonder at the whole occurrence that they did not know what to say, the red man grunted:
“Heap fine wagon. Ugh! Indian like um, he buy um! How much?”
“Look here!” burst out Jerry, so angry that he hardly took note of what the red man had said. “Do you know you are a—”
Then a strange thing happened. Wrapping his blankets closely about him, and drawing himself up to his full height of over six feet, the Indian said calmly:
“I really beg your pardon for the unwarranted liberty I took with your car, but when I saw it standing out here, so far from civilization, I could not resist the temptation to take a ride. I trust you will overlook it.”
For a moment the boys were speechless, for the Indian they had supposed one from the half-wild plain tribes, and whose every appearance indicated that, had spoken in English as cultured as that of a college professor.
“What—why—when—where?” stammered Jerry, and the Indian burst into a laugh.
“I see I must explain,” he said. “I am not what I seem.”
“Aren’t you an Indian?” asked Ned.
“A full blooded one, and the chief of a tribe,” spoke the red man. “But I am not the half dime library sort.
“You see,” he went on, “I have just come back from the school at Carlisle, where I am taking a post graduate course. I felt a sudden longing to don the dress of my ancestors, and roam the broad fields. I did so, starting from my home on the reservation this morning. I came along and saw the auto. As I said, the temptation was too strong to resist. I got in and took a little spin, as you saw. I am sorry if I caused you annoyance, or made you fear your machine had been stolen.”
The eyes of the Indian twinkled and, beneath the paint on his face, the boys could see a smile coming.
“But how in the world did you learn to run a car?” asked Jerry.
“Easy enough,” was the answer. “I acted as chauffeur for several months this vacation to earn money enough to continue my studies. I got to be quite an expert. That is a fine car you have.”
“Well I’m stumped!” exclaimed Bob.
“How do you like my pony?” asked the red man. “I think we made a sort of unfair exchange, though, in spite of the fact that the animal is valuable. Now let me apologize once more, and then I will take my animal and go home.”
“You are welcome to the ride,” said Jerry. “We were so surprised at first that we took you for a thief.”
“I don’t blame you,” spoke the Indian. “The sight of a red man in an automobile is enough to make any one wonder. Well, heap big chief, Whistling Wind in the Pine, must go.”
“Is that your name?” asked Ned.
“It’s my Indian one,” was the answer, “but at the school I am known as Paul Rader. Now let me bid you good day, and a pleasant journey.”
Then, before they could ask him to take a ride with them, the boys saw the Indian leap on his pony, from which Bob had dismounted, and ride away at a smart gallop, his blanket flying out behind him in the wind.
“Well, that’s the limit!” exclaimed Ned. “To think of a wild-civilized Indian playing a trick like that.”
“I certainly thought he was as wild as they come,” put in Bob. “I was afraid it was all up with us.”
Then the professor appeared and they told him the story.
“I wish I had met him,” said the professor.
“What for; did you know him?” asked Jerry.
“No, but he would probably be able to tell me where to get some fine specimens,” remarked the scientist.
In a short time they were all in the auto again, and were bowling along over the table land, the machine humming in a way that told that the cylinders were working well. They camped for supper, and then, as it was a fine moon light night they determined to continue on slowly, as they wanted to make up for lost time.
The moon rose early, a big silver disk shining among the trees, when the autoists started on their night journey.
“This is great!” exclaimed Bob, who seemed to have forgotten his desire for a bed under shelter. “Wouldn’t it be fun to have a lot of Indians chase us now?”
“It might if they were tame ones,” put in Jerry, who was steering, “but excuse me from any wild ones.”
The road soon began a gentle ascent, and the auto ran more slowly up the hill. The road, too, became narrower, winding in and out. The trees, which had been scattering, were thicker, and the travelers could see they were getting well up among the mountains.
“How late are you going to travel?” asked Bob of Jerry.
“Until nearly midnight,” was the answer. “The moon begins to go down then and it will not be very safe. But I think we ought to cover as big a distance as possible while we can. We have had delays enough.”
The only noise, besides the puffing of the machine, were the cries of owls, the chirping of crickets and katy-dids, with, now and then, the howl of a wolf or fox. In spite of the number in the party, there was a feeling of loneliness about being so far from civilization among the wilds of the mountain region.
Up and up went the car, until the ascent became so steep that Jerry was obliged to run on the low gear. This made progress slow, and, because of the uneven road, so risky, that it seemed unwise to proceed further that night.
“I’ll slow up when we get to the top of this hill,” said Jerry, “and we’ll go into camp.”
But he reckoned without knowing what sort of a hill it was, nor did he calculate on the auto failing to stop as soon as he expected. For that was what happened. Reaching the summit of the slope Jerry shut off the power.
But something went wrong with the mechanism. The auto continued on, slowly to be sure, but with enough momentum to send it over the brow of the hill. Then it plunged down on the other side, gathering speed every minute.
“Is she running away?” asked Ned. “Seems so to me.”
“She’s not behaving as well as she should,” replied Jerry, “but I have her under control. The brake is working all right,” which fact he soon ascertained.
Faster and faster, however, in spite of the brake, did the auto plunge down the slope. Jerry kept his head, however, and was working to bring the machine to a halt. All at once Bob, looking up, saw where the road made a sudden turn to the left.
“Look out for that!” he cried, pointing.
Jerry tried to make the turn, but the steering wheel suddenly became a little stiff, so that, instead of the car being turned to the left, and around the bend, it kept straight on.
There was a crackling of brush and tree branches, and the big machine left the road and began plowing up the side of a slope, around the lower edge of which the road wound.
“Duck!” cried Ned, as a tree branch hit him in the face.
They all did so, and the next instant the big machine crashed through some briars, bending down several saplings in its journey. Then, having exhausted the momentum, the auto came to a stop, at the summit of the little slope, and Jerry jammed on the brakes to hold it there, the band this time gripping the axle firmly.
“Look! Oh look!” cried Ned, pointing ahead and down below them.
There, in a sort of basin formed by high hills, lay a body of water, sparkling and beautiful in the moonlight, the shadows of tall black mountains reflected in its calm surface.
“It’s Lost Lake!” exclaimed Jerry, softly. “Boys! We have found Lost Lake! I am sure of it!”
For a few seconds no one spoke after that, for they were all lost in wonder at the beauty and strangeness of the sight. It was so quiet that it seemed almost as if it was but a picture painted by a master’s hand.
Suddenly Bob, who was staring intently at the upper end of the lake, grasped Ned by the arm.
“See,” he whispered. “What’s that? That thing in white?”
They all looked to where Bob pointed. At first they could make out nothing, but Bob insisted that he had seen some tall, white object moving.
“It was just like the description of ghosts,” he said, with a queer little laugh.
“I see it,” said Jerry, softly. “Right by the big white birch.”
“Sure enough,” remarked the professor.
Then they all beheld a tall white form in the pale moonlight, gliding from tree to tree, on the shore of the lake.
“Look, it is picking up something from the shore,” said Ned. “Maybe it’s the hermit the miner told us about, gathering gold.”
“Nonsense,” said Jerry. “It’s probably a bit of fog, or it may be a white fox, or a wolf.”
“No fox or wolf is as big as that,” insisted Ned. “I’ll bet it’s the hermit.”
“Whatever it is, it’s gone now,” put in Bob.
And, sure enough, the object suddenly disappeared among the trees, and there was nothing in sight but the lake, the mountains and the moonlight.
“Well, we seem to have stumbled onto the lake,” remarked Jerry. “If the auto had not misbehaved we would have taken the regular road, and Lost Lake would still be lost. As it is we have found it.”
“I hope we find some of the gold, as well,” put in Ned. “We may need the yellow pebbles if our mine is gone.”
“Whatever we do, we shall stay here until morning,” said Jerry. “It will be a good place to camp, anyhow, gold or no gold.”
So they all busied themselves in preparing to stay there for the rest of the night. A fire was built and a midnight supper was soon in preparation. They had good appetites, and, tired with the day’s journey and events, they got out their blankets and slept soundly.
By daylight the lake was seen to be a large sheet of water, rather irregular in outline, with many small bays and coves. Shimmering in the sunlight the water made a beautiful picture.
“Here goes to see if there are any golden pebbles on the shore,” remarked Bob, with a whoop as soon as he had crawled from the improvised bed. He did not have to stop and dress for the travelers slept in their clothes.
Chunky climbed down the slope, along a rather rough path to the water. Some time later Jerry and Ned were about to follow, when they heard Bob yelling at the top of his voice.
“What’s the matter?” called Jerry.
“Have you found the gold?” cried Ned.
“Maybe the hermit has attacked him,” suggested the professor.
They all ran to the water’s edge. When they reached the shore Bob was nowhere in sight.
“Hi, Bob! Where are you?” cried Jerry looking around.
“Here!” exclaimed Chunky, suddenly, bobbing up from beneath the little waves about one hundred feet from shore.
“Did you fall in?” asked the professor, anxiously.
“No, I jumped in,” replied the boy. “I’m in swimming. Come on in, the water’s fine!”
“Good for you!” called Ned and the next instant he was undressed and splashing out toward Bob. Jerry soon joined them, and even the professor took a dip. The water was somewhat cool, but after they were once in it was invigorating, and they swam about for half an hour, greatly enjoying the luxury of a bath.
“Hark! What was that?” asked Ned, suddenly.
There came a whirring of wings and a rustling of the leaves of the bushes off to the left. Then a bevy of birds sailed through the air.
“Partridge, or some similar bird, I would say,” was the professor’s opinion.
“And there goes a big rabbit!” cried Bob.
“Yes, and there’s another!” exclaimed Jerry. “Say, we have struck a game country if we haven’t a gold one. I say, what’s the matter with having a hunt?”
“Good!” cried Bob and Ned.
“I think it would do no harm to replenish the larder with something fresh,” remarked the professor.
Accordingly, after breakfast, guns were gotten ready and the boys and the professor tramped off through the woods, taking care not to go too far from the lake, as the trees were thick, and, as there were no trails blazed, it would be easy to get lost.
Ned bagged the first partridge, and Bob came second, getting two in succession. Jerry had hard luck, for twice he missed easy shots. A little later, however, he bowled over a plump rabbit, and followed it up with a second. Then Ned got one, and Jerry succeeded in bagging a couple of fine birds.
Some of the game was served for dinner, which was eaten by a campfire, and very fine it was voted. Then some was packed away in salt, against a possible time when provisions might be hard to get.
“What do you say, shall we stay here another night or push on?” asked Jerry, about the middle of the afternoon.
“If you ask me,” said the professor, “I should say to remain here. I saw a number of fine and rare specimens I would like to gather.”
“The only thing is, perhaps we had better join Nestor as soon as possible,” remarked Ned.
“I think a few days’ delay can do no harm,” Mr. Snodgrass said. “From the tone of Nestor’s letter I would say there was no immediate danger of the mine being claimed by others.”
“Then we’ll stay,” said Jerry. “I would like to investigate the lake a little more. We did not go very far along the shore. Perhaps there might be an outcropping of gold somewhere around this locality.”
“And maybe we will see the hermit, or the ghost, or whatever it is,” added Ned. “Let’s stay.”
“Then we ought to rig up some kind of shelter,” went on Jerry. “It may rain in the night, and it’s not the most pleasant thing in the world to sleep in a mud puddle.”
“We can build a shack of boughs,” said Bob.
And this they did. They had often done the same thing before. Branches from a pine tree, stacked up against a sapling cut to fit between the crotches of two trees, with the same sort of boughs for a roof and floor, made a very good shelter. Rubber blankets on top insured the rain being kept out, and with woolen coverings for inside, beds were made that were very comfortable.
When these preparations had been made it was growing dusk. While Bob and Ned were getting supper, and the professor was busy arranging his specimens gathered that day, Jerry removed one of the big search-lights from the auto.
“What are doing that for?” asked Bob.
“I’m going to try and find out what that white thing is,” said Jerry. “I’m going to rig up a lantern in front of the shack, facing the lake, and if the hermit or whatever it is, shows up, I’m going to flash the light on it.”
“Maybe it won’t come to-night,” suggested Bob.
But it did. It was along about midnight when Ned felt a light touch on his arm.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, sitting up.
“Come on,” whispered Jerry. “I see something down by the lake, and I want to investigate. Be careful, don’t make any noise.”
Bob and the professor were both sleeping so soundly that they did not hear Jerry and Ned leave the shack.
“Where is it?” asked Ned.
“There,” replied Jerry, pointing to a spot about three hundred feet away, and on the shore of the lake. “It was there a minute ago, but it’s gone now. Watch, it will come back.”
He busied himself over the search-light, making ready to light it quickly and flash the beams on the ghost or hermit, or whatever it should prove to be.
“There it is!” called Ned, in a hoarse whisper. “Right by that big rock that runs out into the water.”
“I see!” said Jerry, softly.
There was a hissing sound as Jerry turned on the acetylene gas, a snapping sound as he lit the match, and then a slight puff as the vapor ignited. The next instant a glaring shaft of light shot down toward the lake, glint on a strange object.
There in the glare of the white beams stood the figure of an old man. His hair was snow white, and hung down long over his shoulders. He seemed bent with age, and this was made more pronounced because he bore a heavy bag on his back. He was right at the edge of the water.
The sudden glare had startled him, and he turned in surprise and fear to see whence it came. His face stood out in strong relief, and Jerry started, for he dimly remembered seeing some one who looked like that some time before.
Then, all at once the stillness of the night was broken by a shrill scream. Ned and Jerry were startled, and Bob and the professor, in the shack, were awakened.
“Look!” exclaimed Ned.
Then, as he and Jerry watched what took place in the circle of light, they beheld a woman, her long hair streaming down her back, run from the woods up to the old man. In her hand she held a big club, and with it she endeavored to strike the aged man. The latter dropped his sack, and seemed to engage in a struggle with the woman.
“He’s killing her!” exclaimed Ned. “This is the hermit we were warned against.”
“Come on!” cried Jerry. “We must see what it means.”
But, just as he started down the slope, the search-light went out, leaving the place in utter blackness, for the moon was under a cloud. When Jerry had succeeded in getting the light going again, the man and woman were nowhere to be seen.
“Well, that certainly was a queer sight,” remarked Ned. “I wonder what it all means?”
“I guess we’ll have to stay here until we find out,” said Jerry. “It looked as if there was going to be trouble, at one time.”
“What’s all the excitement about?” asked the professor, coming out of the shack, followed by Bob.
Jerry related what they had seen, and the professor agreed that it would be better to remain and make an investigation.
“I say, you fellows are mean to go off alone and have a cracking adventure like that,” objected Bob, in a grieved tone.
“We didn’t want to disturb your slumbers,” said Ned.
“Don’t eat so much supper next time, and you will not sleep so sound,” advised Jerry. But Bob was not to be appeased until promised that the next time Ned and Jerry went ghost hunting they would take him with them.
Having been so thoroughly aroused from their sleep the travelers decided to sit up a while and see if they could catch another glimpse of the strange man and woman. But, though they sat and talked for more than an hour, there was no further sign of the two queer creatures.
“I’m going to bed,” announced Bob at length, and the others decided to follow his example. They slept soundly until morning, though Jerry said afterward that he dreamed he was being chased across the frozen lake by a white haired man on a black horse. He got stuck in the ice, and was freezing to death, when he awakened to find that his blanket had slipped from him, and that a cold rain was blowing in through the cracks of the shack. Morning had dawned cold and dreary.
“Wow! This isn’t exactly pleasant!” exclaimed Jerry, as he poked his head out of the front of the screen of branches. “I wish there was a hotel handy.”
The others crawled from beneath the blankets, not in any too good humor at the dismal prospect.
“And I’ll bet there isn’t any dry wood to be had,” said Bob. “That means a cold breakfast.”
A search proved that he was right. Nor was there any charcoal, since the last had been used some days before, and they had been to no place where they could get more.
“Just when a fellow needs a hot cup of coffee,” went on Bob. “I never saw such beastly luck.”
Jerry said nothing. He seemed to be studying over some matter.
“I have it,” he exclaimed.
“What? Some dry wood?” asked Ned with much eagerness.
“No, but I know how to make some hot coffee,” was the answer.
Jerry lost no time in explaining. He first went to the auto where he got out rubber coats for himself and his companions. Then, ready to defy the rain, which was coming down at a good clip, Jerry hunted about until he found two large stones. These he set up a short distance apart, placing another each at the front and rear of the first two.
“There’s the stove,” he remarked.
“A heap of good it will do, with no fire in it,” growled Bob.
“Wait,” advised Jerry.
Taking the big search-light, which he had used the night previous, he removed the top, so that the flame could be used for cooking purposes. They prepared a good meal and enjoyed it.
It continued to rain, and to fill in time the boys went fishing in the lake. Luck was with them and within half an hour they had ten fine fish, and then, though they could have taken many more, they did not, as Jerry said they would have no use for them.
“Fish for dinner for me to-day,” said Bob, while the others laughed at his usual exhibition of how fond of eating he was. The fish did prove an excellent dish, fried in corn meal on Jerry’s improvised stove. Some bacon gave them a relish, and with hot coffee they felt they had as good a meal as many a hotel could serve.
“I wonder where the professor is?” said Ned, when the meal was almost over. “I forgot that he wasn’t with us.”
“He’s off gathering birds, bugs or reptiles,” said Jerry. “He’ll come when he feels good and hungry.”
“He’s more likely to forget all about being hungry if he gets chasing a fine specimen,” remarked Ned. “I think I’ll just take a stroll and see if I can come across him.”
“We’ll go along,” said Jerry and Bob.
So the three started off together. They could easily follow the professor’s trail, as he had broken through the underbrush, snapping off many twigs and breaking small branches. The boys wandered on for nearly a mile, but saw no sign of the scientist. They were about to turn back, and wait for him at camp, when Jerry held up his hand to indicate silence.
“Hark!” he whispered.
The others stood still, and, listening intently, heard above the patter of the raindrops, voices in conversation.
“That’s the professor,” said Ned.
“Some one is with him then,” put in Jerry. “They are coming this way.”
The sounds of persons advancing through the bushes could be heard. The voices also sounded plainer. A minute later the brush was parted and the professor, followed by a woman, came out into the little clearing where the boys were. At the sight of the woman, Jerry started, for he recognized her as the strange person who had been with the old man the night previous. The professor seemed excited about something.
“Boys, this lady has just told me some strange news,” he said.
“What is it?” asked Ned.
“Beware of the hermit of Lost Lake!” the woman exclaimed suddenly. “Have a care of him. Many poor travelers has he murdered. He would have murdered you last night if I had not prevented him.”
“So that’s what it was all about,” said Jerry, half aloud. The woman heard him, and turned:
“Did you see him?” she asked. “Did you see me?”
“I—we—” began Jerry.
“You have been spying on me!” exclaimed the woman, growing much excited.
“No, no!” said the professor calmly. “The boys were not spying. They happened to see a man and a woman on the shore of the lake last night, and they thought it might have been you.”
“It was me,” said the woman. “I was trying to prevent him from coming and killing you all in your sleep.”
The boys began to feel a queer creepy sensation run up their spines, as if some one had poured cold water down their backs.
“It’s true,” the strange creature went on. “I will tell you all about it. Listen to me,” and she sat down on a stump.
“Perhaps we had better go where there is shelter,” suggested Jerry, for it was raining hard again, though the boys and the professor in their rubber coats did not mind it. The woman was drenched.
“No,” she said. “I can go to no place save these woods. I am safe from him here.” She seemed nervous and excited, and her eyes seemed unnaturally bright.
“The old man is a hermit,” she went on. “He has lived near this lake for many years. He kills travelers and takes their money. He tried to kill me but I escaped from him because I can run fast. Since then he has been after me. Last night he started for your camp, but I got a big club and stopped him. Then he ran away.”
“What was in the bag?” asked Ned.
“What bag?” asked the woman.
“The one the old man had on his back?”
“Hush! Don’t speak about it,” was the reply. “He had a murdered man’s body in there, and he threw it into the lake.”
“Are you sure?” asked the professor, thinking the woman might, perhaps, be trying to scare them away.
“Positive,” she replied. “I saw him kill the poor fellow, but the hermit did not know I was watching.”
“Where does he live?” asked the professor.
“He has a den in the darkest part of the woods,” was the answer. “He takes travelers there and kills them. He does not know that I know where it is, but I do. Would you like to see it?”
“Not if he is the kind of a person you say he is,” spoke Jerry. “I think we had better steer clear of him.”
“I can take you there when he is not at home,” said the woman. “Listen, once each week he takes a long trip over the mountain, to bury the gold he has taken from travelers. I can hide and watch him go. Then I could come and bring you to his den. Shall I?”
“It might be a good plan,” mused the professor. “If this man is a murderer he should be taken in charge by the authorities. Yes, come and let us know when he goes away. Perhaps we could capture him ourselves.”
“I’ll come,” said the woman. “Now I must go, for I hear some one coming,” and, rising suddenly, she ran off at top speed through the woods. The boys listened intently but could hear no one approaching, and began to think the woman must have been mistaken.
“Where did you meet her?” asked Jerry of the professor, when it was seen that the woman was not coming back.
“She saw me while I was gathering some specimens,” was the reply, “and she came up to warn me about the hermit. It seems that she lives not far away, and roams through the woods. Besides telling me about the old man, and to be on our guard against him, she showed me where to get some beautiful tree toads,” and the scientist opened his pocket and showed it full of the little creatures.
“Do you think she is telling the truth about the hermit?” asked Jerry.
“There may be some exaggeration to it,” rejoined the professor, “but I have heard of old half crazed men who lived in the woods as this one does, and who occasionally murdered lone travelers. We can’t be too careful.”
“Besides, it did look as though she was trying to prevent him doing something last night,” put in Jerry.
“Well, we’ll keep a good lookout,” suggested the professor. “That’s all we can do now, unless we decide to move on away from this place.”
“I would rather like to solve the mystery,” said Jerry. “I do not think we have much to fear. He is an old man, and I guess we four are a match for him.”
“Then we had better do as the woman says, wait until she comes to lead us to his hut, or cabin, or whatever it is,” the professor advised after a moment’s thought.
That plan settled on, they made their way back to camp and the professor was given his rather late dinner. But he did not seem to mind this in the least.
“Are you going to keep watch again to-night?” asked Bob of Jerry.
“Of course. I want to get at the bottom of this. There is a mystery somewhere, and I think the hermit, the lost lake and the strange woman, together, can explain it.”
The rain stopped after supper, though it remained cloudy, and Jerry again prepared the gas lamp. It was arranged that he and Ned would stay up on guard until twelve o’clock and that Bob and the professor would take the rest of the night. Whichever party saw the hermit was at once to notify the other.
Jerry and Ned began their vigil. Several hours passed and it seemed they were to have their trouble for their pains. At length, however, just as they were preparing to turn in and let the others take their turn, Jerry saw a movement in the bushes about five hundred feet away, and down near the edge of the lake. The moon, shining faintly through the clouds, illuminated the scene.
“Be ready to turn on the light when I say so,” said Jerry to Ned.
Ned was all alert. Jerry, with his eyes straining to catch the slightest movement of the underbrush, peered through the darkness. Something white attracted him.
“Now!” he whispered to Ned, and the light, that had been burning low, was suddenly turned on at full power.
In its glare the two boys saw again the white haired hermit stealing along the edge of the water, the big bag on his back.
“Call the others!” whispered Jerry to Ned. “I’ll keep watch!”
“All right.”
Ned softly went back to the shack where he awakened the professor and Bob. They were out in an instant, and made ready to go quietly down as close as they could to where the hermit was, while Jerry showed the way by the searchlight. But again they were doomed to disappointment, for, no sooner had Jerry turned the light so that it shown full on the old man, than he jumped as though struck by lightning and made a dive for the woods, into the black depths of which he disappeared.
“I guess that’s the last we’ll see of him,” said Ned.
“He dropped his bag,” cried Bob. “Let’s get that and see what’s in it.”
At this the professor and Ned ran down to the edge of the water, and soon returned with the sack the old man had carried on his back.
“Open it and let’s see if there are any murdered persons in it,” said Jerry, with an uneasy laugh.
Ned untied the string, and, not without some misgivings, peered inside.
“Well I never,” he exclaimed.
“What is it?” asked Bob.
“Fish! Nothing but fish!” replied Ned. “Fine ones at that. I guess all we have done is to have scared the poor old man away from his fishing grounds.”
“Certainly there is nothing suspicious in having a bag of fish,” put in the professor. “I wonder if that strange woman could have been telling the truth.”
“We’ll know better if she keeps her word and comes to take us to the hermit’s den,” said Jerry.
There seemed nothing more to do that night, so they all went to bed, not being disturbed until morning. They were awakened by the sun peeping in through the chinks in the shack, and they got up to find a fine day had succeeded the rainy one.
The beams of Old Sol were bright and warm, and the first thing the travelers did was to go down and have a dip in the lake. Then breakfast was served, and when it was over Jerry and Ned started to overhaul the machine.
“For,” said Jerry, “we may want to leave at any time, and the car is in none too good condition since we plowed up the side of the mountain.”
Several minor repairs were made and the auto was run down to the main road, where it stood in readiness for a quick start. It was some time after dinner before all this was done, and along about three o’clock the four travelers stretched out under the trees and took a well earned rest.
“Now if that strange woman would—” began Ned.
“Hush!” cautioned the professor, “some one is coming.”
Hardly had he ceased speaking before the bushes opened and there appeared the figure of the queer woman, with her long hair hanging loose down her back.
“Hush!” she whispered, placing her finger on her lips. “I have come to keep my promise. The hermit has gone over the mountain. Come, and I will take you to his hut, and you can see where he has murdered travelers.”
The boys hardly knew whether to obey or not, but a nod from Professor Snodgrass, to whom they looked, indicated they were to do as the woman wanted. So they arose and prepared to follow her. The professor brought up the rear.
Through the woods their strange guide went, for several miles. At length she reached a thick part of the woods.
“It is very close now,” she said. “Wait until I take a look.”
The travelers halted, while the woman crept softly forward. She peered through the brush into a sort of clearing, and apparently seeing that everything was safe, she motioned for the others to advance.
They did so, and, a moment later emerged from the woods into a place where many trees had been cut down. In the centre of this space was a small log cabin, and toward it the woman pointed.
“There is his hut,” she said. “Come on, I will lead the way.”
She advanced with great caution, as though she feared to disturb some one. Closer and closer to the door she went, the others close behind her.
“He never locks it, so we can go right in,” she said.
By this time she was near enough to grasp the latch. She raised it, and was about to enter, when the door suddenly swung back, and the old hermit himself, stepping out, stood before the astonished travelers.
“There he is! There he is! There is the murderer!” cried the woman, pointing her finger at the hermit.
The old man did not appear greatly surprised. He looked from the woman to the boys and the professor, and remarked:
“To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit?”
“I we,—er—that is—we—er—I—” began the professor, finding it was hard to tell the truth.
“Oh, it’s poor old Kate,” went on the hermit. “She has probably been telling you some strange stories. Will you not come into my cabin?”
“Don’t go into the murderer’s hut!” cried the woman, as she turned and fled back through the underbrush, leaving the travelers in a somewhat queer situation.
The professor did not know what to do. He and the boys expected to find the hut deserted, but, through some cause, the woman had evidently made a mistake as to the absence of the hermit. Nor did Mr. Snodgrass care to accept the invitation of the old man and enter the hut, not knowing what he might find there.
“You must not mind what Kate says,” the hermit went on, seeing that his unexpected visitors hesitated. “She means well, but she exaggerates a little sometimes.”
The professor thought that a rather cool manner in which to reply to accusation of murder, but, he reflected, if the hermit was as bad as the woman made him out to be, he would naturally, be rather a bold sort of person.
The boys, too, were somewhat embarrassed by their position. To come suddenly upon a man you expect to bind and hand over to the authorities as a criminal of the worst kind and then to find him calmly inviting you into his house, is something out of the ordinary. How much longer the travelers might have stood outside the hut, after the invitation to enter had been given, will always be a cause for speculation, because, the next instant something happened.
The professor, who had been glancing from the aged hermit to the hut, and then back to the old man, suddenly uttered an exclamation, and made a dive for the door.
“There he goes!” cried the scientist. “There is the one I’ve been looking for for nearly a month!” and, a second later, he had disappeared inside the cabin.
“What’s the matter? Is some one after you?” asked the old man hastening in the footsteps of the scientist, while the boys trailed in behind. “What do you want?”
“I have it! I have it!” called the professor’s voice. “It’s a beauty, and a rare one.”
“What does he mean?” asked the hermit, turning to the boys.
“It’s a pink-winged dragon fly,” cried the professor, coming back at that point and hearing the question. He had penetrated to the farther side of the cabin. “I saw the insect on the cabin door,” he went on, explaining to the old man. “Then I saw it go in. I knew it would not stay long, so the only thing to do was to make a jump for it, without waiting to explain. I am very glad I got it, for it’s worth at least seven dollars, and perhaps more. I must apologize for running into your cabin in that hasty manner,” the scientist went on, turning to the old man.
“I guess that was the best way of getting you into it,” said the hermit with a smile, which, the boys admitted, was a very pleasant one for a murderer. “But now you are here, do not be in a hurry to get out again.”
“If you have no objections I will stay until I have put away this dragon-fly specimen in a case,” said the professor, pulling out a small flat box in which he placed his precious specimens temporarily.
“Let me ask you to supper,” went on the old man, seeming to the boys to be very eager to have them remain. “It is so seldom that I have company that I appreciate it very much. Stay and have a meal with me.”
The boys and the professor hardly knew what answer to make. They did not want to stay, yet did not care to offend by saying no.
“I’m afraid we might inconvenience you,” began Mr. Snodgrass. “You know what it is when company comes unexpectedly, and the larder is empty.”
“Have no fears on that score,” replied the old man with a short laugh. “I have plenty for all of us,” and throwing open a cupboard he showed it well stocked with many victuals.
As no other excuse offered, the travelers could do nothing else but agree to stay, though Bob said afterwards that he kept his hand on his revolver, in his outside coat pocket, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice.
So, in a little while, supper was being prepared by the hermit, who seemed to be quite an expert cook. As he busied himself about the stove the boys had time to glance over the cabin. The first thing that impressed them was that the place was well planned for defense.
It was built somewhat like the old block houses the early settlers constructed, with the upper story projecting over the first, so that the Indians who besieged the place, could be attacked from above. Then the lads noted that the sides were pierced with small loop holes, while on the walls were several rifles, and belts full of cartridges.
“One might think that you were in an enemy’s country,” observed Mr. Snodgrass to the hermit, as he took note of the means of defense.
“I have to be on guard,” responded the hermit, quickly. “My life is not safe a moment. I do not know what minute I may be attacked. I am surrounded by spies on every hand.”
“It is a wonder that you let us in then,” said Jerry. “How do you know that we will not betray you?”
“I am too good a reader of human character as shown in the face to fear anything like that,” the old man went on. “I can trust you; I know I can.”
“Who are you in danger from?” asked the professor, wondering what sort of story the hermit could tell.
“All kinds of bad men,” was the answer. “They had me in their power once, but I got away. I came here because it was a place well hidden from general observation. I have lived here several years, and you are the first persons beside poor Kate, that I have been friendly with in that time.”
“Then why do you keep ready to repel an enemy if none has molested you in that period?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“Because there is no telling when the men will attack me,” replied the old man. “There are several who would like to get control of me, but I think I can prevent it. I will never let them get me into their power again, as long as I have a shot in the gun.”
Supper was ready by this time, and the travelers, not very much reassured by the talk of the strange old hermit sat down to the rude table. The food, contrary to their expectation, proved very good.
When the meal was over the hermit began to question the travelers about their journey and asked why they came to the lake, which, he said, was seldom if ever visited. They told him how they had unexpectedly found the sheet of water.
“That generally is the way in this world,” said the old man. “If you look for a thing you never find it, but if you do not, sometimes it comes to you in the most unexpected manner. I have sought something for many years, but I have not found it, and my heart will break if I do not succeed soon.”
“What is it you are looking for?” asked Ned, softly, as he saw the hermit was affected.
“I can not tell you now,” was the answer. “Later I may, and perhaps you can help me in the quest.”
“We would be glad to,” said the professor. “But I think we must be going now. It is getting late and we must get back to the automobile. Besides, I am afraid we will have trouble finding our way through the woods.”
“Have no fear,” said the hermit. “I will call Kate and she will take you back, just as she brought you here.”
“But I thought she was—” began Uriah Snodgrass.
“That is only a notion of hers, that I am a murderer,” spoke the hermit, with a smile. “Kate pretends to be very much afraid of me, but she will come to me when I call her. Probably you are wondering who I am, and why I live out in these lonely woods. If you care to I will tell you my story briefly.”
They all said they would be glad to listen, so the hermit began by saying, for reasons of his own, that he would not tell his name.
“I do not want it to be known who I am,” he said. “But, as I said, I was once in the power of a number of bad men. I used to be a prospector, and made considerable at it, until trouble came. Then I came to this lonesome place. I had heard the legend of Lost Lake, and the gold supposed to be on its shores, but I never expected to find this body of water. However, I did come across it, though I never have found any gold. I have been here ever since, and that is about three years. I manage to hunt and fish, and so get enough to live on. Occasionally I go to the nearest village, and sell a few articles I make out of wood, and so get a little money.”
“I should think you would be very lonesome at times,” said Bob.
“I am glad to be alone when I think of all I suffered from those men,” was the reply.
“Would you mind telling us about the woman?” asked Mr. Snodgrass. “She seems a queer creature.”
“She is,” answered the hermit. “She is harmless enough, except when aroused, and her great trouble is in thinking that I am a murderer.”
“What makes her think such a thing?” asked Jerry.
“Because she is slightly crazy,” said the hermit. “She was in these woods when I came here, and, in time we grew to be good friends. It seems that years ago her whole family was killed by the Indians, she alone escaping. It turned her brain, and ever since then, she imagines that nearly all men are murderers. I wonder she has not accused you of the crime,” and the hermit smiled a little.
“She certainly acted queer,” admitted the professor, “but I thought it was because she took you to be—er—”
“Oh, I don’t mind having you refer to it,” put in the old man. “She often accuses me of the crime to my face. I humor her, and admit sometimes that I am a desperate criminal, and that I am going to give myself up to the authorities. It sort of calms her down.”
“What did you mean by saying that she would come whenever you called her?” asked Jerry. “Is she near by?”
“She stays in a little cabin I built for her, not far off,” replied the hermit. “When I want her to go on an errand for me, for she is very swift and reliable, I merely blow this horn,” and he showed a big conch hanging on the wall. “I will call her to show you the way back to your camp when you are ready.”
The professor and the boys thought it was about time to leave. They promised the hermit they would come and see him again, and then the old man, taking down the horn, unbarred the door, and, stepping out blew three shrill blasts that reverberated through the woods. It was just getting dusk, and the echoes, ringing back from the distant hills, sounded weird in the gathering darkness.
For a few seconds no answer came, then, from far off in the woods sounded a faint cry.
“Here she comes,” said the hermit. “She will take you the shortest way.”
In a little while the crackling of the brush could be heard, and, a few seconds later Kate appeared. She did not seem surprised not to find the travelers all murdered.
“Will you show them the way back to camp?” asked the old man.
“Yes,” said Kate, simply. “Follow me,” she added, turning to the boys and the professor.
They started off after the strange woman, and, at that instant the old hermit uttered an exclamation.
“Some one is coming!” he cried. “It may be some of my enemies!”
A moment later he turned and fled into the dark woods!