“Let’s go to his help!” exclaimed Bob.
“Come on!” cried Ned.
“You had better not,” said the woman, in a calm voice. “It is probably only the police after him for the many murders he has committed, and we had better not interfere. Besides if you want me to take you to your camp you had better come, as I have my house work to do before sunrise.”
She started to lead the way, and, though the boys felt inclined to follow and see what became of the hermit, they concluded it would be better to go back to camp.
Kate seemed to have lost much of her excited manner as she led them through the woods, over a scarcely discernible path. Neither the fast gathering darkness nor the maze of trees seemed to confuse her. She made better progress than did the boys or the professor, as they were not familiar with the ground.
“Well of all the queer adventures we’ve had,” remarked Ned to Jerry, who had lagged somewhat in the rear with him, “this is the worst. Think of going to capture a murderer and then being led home by an insane woman! I wonder what will come next?”
The journey to camp took some time, as the path was hard for the boys and professor to follow, and several times Kate had to wait for them to catch up to her. At last, however, she brought them out near the little open place where the auto stood, and the boys breathed a sigh of relief.
“Our car is safe, anyhow,” said Jerry. “Now for some sleep.”
“Ain’t we going to have something to eat first?” demanded Bob in an aggrieved tone.
The others laughed at Chunky’s sorrowful voice.
“We’ll see,” said Jerry. “Perhaps you would like a cup of chocolate,” he went on, turning to Kate.
“No, thank you,” she said. “I must not stay here. I want to see if they have captured the murderer, so I will go back,” and, turning suddenly, she returned over the path they had come, her footsteps growing fainter and fainter.
“Come on, let’s make the chocolate,” said Bob, when Kate had gone.
Jerry soon had the beverage in preparation, and they all enjoyed it. Then they fixed up the beds in the shack, and soon were slumbering, too tired even to post a guard, though, as events proved, there was no need for one.
“Well,” remarked Jerry, after breakfast had been eaten, “I suppose we may as well push on for Arizona. No use staying here since the mystery is solved.”
“I don’t believe it is solved,” spoke Professor Snodgrass, suddenly. “I’m not altogether satisfied about that hermit.”
“You don’t think he’s a murderer, do you?” asked Ned.
“No, but there is something odd about him. I can not get over the feeling that I have met him before, or some relative of his. Yet I can not recall it clearly. He has certain queer little actions that remind me of some one. I would like to see him again.”
“If you want to, I think I could find our way back to the cabin in the day time,” spoke Ned.
“I took pretty good notice of the trail when we went over.”
“I wish you could,” said the professor, eagerly. “I want to have a talk with that old man. Besides, I think I can get some more specimens at his hut. I saw a fine lizard around the door step in the afternoon.”
So it was decided they would pay another visit to the hermit’s cabin. Accordingly they started off after dinner, and, led by Ned, followed the trail. They went astray several times, and had to search about for the path, but finally they came to the place where Kate had halted them the day before to go forward and peer at the hut.
“Shall we go right on now?” asked Ned, pausing to see what the rest wanted to do. “The cabin is just ahead.”
“Go on,” said Mr. Snodgrass.
They came out into the little glade, in which the cabin stood. As they emerged from the woods they saw Kate standing in front of the hut, crying.
“What is the matter?” asked the professor.
“They have taken the poor old man away and killed him!” sobbed the woman.
“It’s another of her imaginations,” said Ned, softly. “Probably the hermit is inside.”
But when they looked he was not to be seen, and his bed showed that it had not been slept in that night.
“Will you help me hunt for him?” asked Kate.
“Certainly we will,” answered the professor.
“Then follow me!” exclaimed the woman, striding off into the woods.
She led the way, explaining in disjointed sentences, yet so that she could be understood, that the old man frequently imagined some one was after him. At such times he would go to one or another of his hiding places, of which he had a number in the different parts of the woods.
But this time he was not to be found easily. Place after place, including caves and deep ravines, were visited by the searchers, but there was no sign of the hermit.
“I am sure he has been killed,” said Kate in a sorrowful tone. “And he was the kindest man that ever lived.”
“I thought you said he was a murderer,” spoke the professor, wondering in what strange channels the woman’s mind ran.
“So he is!” exclaimed Kate, “but he is a good murderer, and not one of the bad kind.”
“Poor woman,” sighed Mr. Snodgrass. “Her mind is hopelessly gone.”
Kate started off in a different direction, and the boys and the professor followed her. She went at a rapid pace, and soon the travelers were aware that they were going up hill. The trail became more steep as they advanced, until they were panting from their exertions. Yet the crazy woman did not seem to become exhausted by the hard pace in the least.
“There is the hill!” she exclaimed at last, pointing upward, and the boys saw ahead of them a big half round mound, at the very summit of which was an immense tree.
“He sometimes stays in that tree,” spoke Kate, as they neared the big forest giant.
“In the tree? I presume you mean he has a sort of platform built among the branches,” said the professor. “A number of Indian tribes live that way.”
“He lives right inside the tree what little time he does live up here,” replied Kate. “The trunk is hollow, and he crawls into it, and hides until all danger is past. We will soon see if he is there.”
An examination of the hollow trunk, however, showed that the hermit was not within, nor did the place disclose any signs of his having been there recently. Kate showed the despair she felt and the professor and the boys could not help feeling disappointed. For a while they stood beneath the spreading branches, wondering what would be best to do.
All at once the professor, who had been intently gazing up into the leafy branches, gave utterance to an exclamation.
“There it is!” he cried. “A regular beauty! I must secure that if I never get another. Keep quiet, every one.”
“It’s another specimen,” said Jerry. “Can’t you forget them for once, professor?”
“This seems to be a sloth or an ant-bear,” replied the scientist, as he made preparations to climb the tree. “It has long white whiskers, a black body and no tail. Wait until I crawl up and get it.”
“Never mind coming up, I’m coming down,” spoke a voice, seeming to come from the animal, the capture of which the professor was intent upon.
“Bless my soul, it’s a combined sloth and parrot!” exclaimed the professor. “That is a rare animal-bird. I must secure it at all hazards. Help me, boys.”
But there was no need for help, as, the next instant, two dangling legs descended from the lower branches of the tree, to be followed, a little later by a body, and then came a mass of white hair and whiskers.
“It’s the old hermit!” cried Bob.
“Yes! It’s him! it’s him!” cried Kate. “He is safe! We have found him.”
“Be quiet!” cautioned the old man, when he had reached the ground. “There may be spies all around, though I think I have escaped them for the time being.”
“How did you get here?” asked Kate.
“I ran as soon as I heard the noise of men coming after me,” replied the aged man. “But I did not dare get into the hollow trunk, for fear of being seen. So I just crawled up into the branches, and there I’d be yet if the professor had not mistaken me for a specimen.”
“You can come down in safety,” said Mr. Snodgrass, “as there seems to be no one in the neighborhood but ourselves.”
“That’s good,” was the rejoinder, “but there is no telling when some one may come. I think I will go back to my own cabin.”
The hermit started off with Kate, the others following. He had not proceeded far when he uttered an exclamation:
“There is one of them!”
At the same instant a roughly dressed man appeared in the narrow path, as if by magic. At sight of him the hermit turned and fled back into the woods.
“Catch him! I want him! Bring him back!” exclaimed the stranger as he saw the hermit disappearing into the depths of the forest.
“What do you want of him?” asked the professor, not liking the man’s looks.
“What’s that your business?” inquired the stranger. “Trot along now, and don’t bother me.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind,” retorted Mr. Snodgrass. “That old man is a friend of ours, and we’ll see that no harm comes to him.”
“Well, I’m going to catch him,” replied the rough looking man, “so stand aside.”
He made as if to go in pursuit of the hermit, but Kate, with flashing eyes and defiant gestures, stood in front of the stranger.
“You let him alone!” she exclaimed. “If you go after him I’ll scratch your eyes out!”
And she looked fierce and strong enough to put her threat into execution as she stood her ground.
“Mind,” she went on, “don’t you dare to stir a step after him!”
“So that’s the way the land lays, eh?” sneered the fellow. “Well, we’ll see about that.”
Putting his finger to his lips he blew a shrill whistle. Hardly had the echo died away than two more men, more roughly dressed, if possible, than the first man, made their appearance from behind bushes where they had evidently been hiding.
“I’ve found him,” said the first man to his companions. “Now these people want to interfere.”
“Knock ’em out of the way,” growled one of the late comers.
“Look here!” began Jerry who was beginning to get angry. “If there’s any knocking to be done I guess we can do our share.”
“When did you leave home?” asked the first man, with a sneer. “Look out, young tenderfoot, how you mix up in this matter.”
“What right have you to follow this old man?” asked the professor, for he began to believe the strangers to be some of the enemies of which the hermit had been fearful.
“That’s none of your affair,” was the answer. “We want that man and we’re going to have him. He got away from us once, and we’re going to take care it does not happen again. Come on, boys. Let’s trail after the old chap. He can’t have gone very far.”
The three turned and were about to take after the hermit when Kate, who had stepped aside, made a sudden spring, and confronted the leader of the three men.
“Don’t you dare go after that poor old man!” she cried. “There! Take that!”
And before the man could raise his hand in defense Kate gave him a forceful push. It was followed by a curious happening.
The three men were standing on the very edge of the knoll, upon the summit of which was the tree where the hermit had been hiding. So steep was the descent that when Kate shoved the man he toppled over backward. Right behind him were the other two men, and falling against them, their leader bowled them down like the remaining pins in a game of skittles. All three of them went slipping, sprawling, tumbling head over heels down the steep slope, vainly trying to dig their hands into the earth and so save themselves.
“There!” exclaimed the woman, as she saw the men roll down. “I guess they will not defy me again in a hurry!”
“I don’t believe they will,” observed the professor drily.
In fact the men seemed to have had enough of Kate for, having rolled to the bottom of the hill, where they arrived somewhat the worse for wear, they got up, but made no attempt to return. Instead they shuffled off through the woods, contenting themselves with shaking their fists at the party on top of the hill.
“What had we better do now?” asked Ned.
“Go back to our camp,” spoke Jerry.
“I think perhaps we had,” counseled the professor. “I thought the poor old hermit was merely wandering in his mind when he talked about men being after him, but, it seems he was right. Now that we have had an encounter with these men, and incurred their hate, it would be best if we did not leave our automobile unguarded. There is no telling what will happen in the next few hours.”
“What can we do to save the hermit?” asked Bob.
“Nothing right away, I fear,” replied Mr. Snodgrass. “We could not find him in the night, for it will soon be dark, and I think he can look after himself better than we can, for the present.”
“I think so too,” put in Kate, who seemed to have calmed down after her attack on the men. “We will go back to your camp, and take up the search to-morrow.”
It was getting dusk now, and the travelers made the best speed they could, following Kate’s guidance, back to their shack near the lake. They found the camp undisturbed and soon were preparing a supper, which the woman shared. Then she bade them good night, and promised to come in the morning.
“I guess we had better post a guard to-night,” said Jerry, as he and the others were thinking of turning in. “There may be a lot of those men after the hermit, and they will not feel any too friendly toward us for what we have done. What do you say, Professor?”
Uriah Snodgrass thought the scheme a good one, and, lots having been drawn, the first watch fell to Ned. He got out his rifle, and, having provided a quantity of wood for the fire, and making the search-light ready so it could be set going quickly, he prepared to spend part of the night on guard.
It was rather lonesome, especially as the others soon fell asleep, as was evidenced by their heavy breathing and an occasional snore. But Ned knew that perhaps the lives of his comrades might depend on his vigilance, so he fought against the feeling of dread, as well as the inclination to sleep, for he was very tired. As the night wore on a stronger feeling of dread took possession of the lad. He started at every sound, and the bark of a fox, the howl of a distant wolf, and even the hooting of an owl was enough to make him jump.
He was very glad, therefore, when his trick was up and Jerry took his place.
“Did you see or hear anything?” asked Jerry.
“Nary a thing except the wild animals,” replied Ned. “There’s a regular menagerie around here, by the sound in the woods.”
For several hours Jerry remained on guard. He was wide awake, for the sleep earlier in the evening had rested him considerably. Part of the time he sat on a log near the fire, and again, he would get up and pace back and forth looking around anxiously.
Jerry replenished the fire and then, feeling somewhat chilly, began to walk rapidly up and down, pacing about ten feet in either direction from the blaze. Once, when he had gone a little further, and stood near a big elm tree he fancied he heard a noise among the branches. Glancing up he was startled by hearing some one utter:
“Hist! Hist!”
“Who’s—who’s there?” faltered Jerry, for he was taken by surprise.
“Sh! Not so loud! Have they gone?” asked a voice.
“Who?” asked the lad, wondering who was speaking.
“The men who were after me?” was the reply, and then Jerry recognized the hermit’s voice.
“Yes, they have gone. Come down, you are safe now,” said Jerry.
There was a scrambling among the branches and soon the white-haired old man stood on the ground beside the boy. His clothing was torn, and his beard was matted with briers and brambles. His face and hands were cut, and he bore the appearance of having raced through the thick underbrush.
“I had a hard time escaping them,” said the hermit. “Have you any water? I have not had a drink in several hours, and my throat is parched.”
Jerry ran to the water pail to get the hermit a drink. The noise he made aroused the others.
“What is it? Are they attacking us?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“No, the hermit has come back,” replied Jerry. “He was hiding up in a tree.”
The professor hurried out of the shack, and joined the old man, who seemed very glad to get back among his new friends. He said he had been wandering around ever since he ran away when the stranger appeared, and, at last, had determined to try and find the boys’ camp.
“Now you are here we will take good care of you, Mr.—er—Mr.—” stammered the professor, forgetting that the hermit had refused to disclose his identity. The old man noticed the hesitating tones.
“There is no reason why I should keep my name a secret from you any longer,” he said. “You probably never heard of me, and never will again. I only desire to remain hidden from my enemies, and I think you are my friends.”
“What is your name?” asked the professor.
“Jackson Bell,” was the reply. “I am an old gold miner.”
“Jackson Bell,” repeated Jerry, wondering if he had heard aright.
“Jackson Bell,” repeated the professor. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“Why you must be Tommy Bell’s father,” exclaimed Ned.
“What’s that!” fairly shouted the hermit. “Do you know Tommy Bell? Have you seen my dear son? Tell me quickly! Do not keep a poor old man in suspense,” and he seemed greatly agitated.
“I thought I had seen some relative of his somewhere,” said the professor.
“Are you sure the boy we have in mind is your son?” asked Mr. Snodgrass. “We do not want to raise false hopes. Perhaps you may be mistaken.”
“Something tells me I can not be mistaken,” exclaimed the hermit. “Tommy Bell is not a common name. Besides, I can describe my son, and then you will know whether he is the one you know,” and he rapidly gave a short description of Tommy.
“That’s him all right,” said Jerry, and the others agreed that the lad they had rescued from the hands of the rough men was, indeed, the son of the hermit.
“And I thought him dead,” said the old man. “After I had been abused by the wicked gang that got me in their control I lost sight of poor Tommy. As soon as I could I made a search for him, but it was of no use.”
“Tommy thought you had wandered away from him,” said Ned. “He told us his story after we had rescued him.”
“Then you saved his life, just as you have mine,” broke in Mr. Bell. “I have much to thank you for. But first I must find my son. Where did you leave him?”
“At a place called Las Cruces,” replied the professor. Thereupon he told briefly how they had taken Tommy from the hands of the lawless gang and left him with a friend.
“I must go to him at once,” exclaimed the old man. “I can hardly wait to start. To think that the boy I thought was dead is alive! And I suppose he thinks I am dead also,” Mr. Bell went on.
“He was going to search for you,” replied Bob, “but he did not know where to start. We can send him word now.”
“I’ll take him word myself!” cried Mr. Bell. “I’ll start as soon as it is daylight.”
“Then you had better get some rest and sleep now,” observed Mr. Snodgrass. “Come into the shack, and we will make you some hot coffee.”
The hermit begged them to go to no trouble on his account, but they insisted, and soon the coffee was boiling on the coals of the camp fire.
“I’m too excited to sleep,” remarked Mr. Bell, as he went inside the rough shelter to lie down. And so it would seem, for, every few minutes he would rouse up from his position, and ask some particular about his son. He appeared scarcely able to believe the good news. At length, however, he grew weary, and along toward morning fell into a doze.
The others were so tired and sleepy from being awake the night before that they slumbered late, and the sun was quite high when Jerry roused himself, and sat up, wondering what day it was.
He got up, took a plunge in the lake, and came back to start breakfast, finding that, in the meanwhile, the others in the camp, including Mr. Bell, had arisen.
“Now to start and find my son,” cried the hermit.
“You had better have something to eat first,” suggested Mr. Snodgrass. “Then perhaps we can think of some plan to aid you.”
Though impatient to be gone the old man consented to remain to breakfast. He did not eat much, however, and seemed ready any minute to start on the long search for Tommy.
“How would it be if we took you to the nearest town in our automobile,” suggested the professor, when the meal was over. “From there you can get conveyances and reach Las Cruces in a short time. If you need any money—”
“Thank you, I think I have enough for the present,” interrupted Mr. Bell. “I do not need much. When I find Tommy I will bring him back with me, and we will be together once more. It seems too good to be true!”
“What will become of Kate in the meanwhile?” asked Mr. Snodgrass. “Though she has queer ideas concerning you I think she is your friend. Will she be able to live in these woods all alone?”
“Kate is able to take care of herself,” was the reply. “She was in these woods before I came and she may be here after I am gone. But I will tell her where I am going, and that I expect to return.”
A trip was made to the hermit’s hut, and, after several blasts had been blown on the conch horn, Kate appeared. She was overjoyed to see the aged man again, and was told of the latest developments.
“You had better hurry up then, and get away from these woods,” said the woman.
“Why so?” asked Jerry.
“Because there are a number of strange men lurking about,” was the answer. “I think they are after this good old man. So be on your guard.”
“It is the same crowd,” said Mr. Bell. “They hate to give me up.”
“What do they want of you?” asked Jerry. “You said you might tell us the secret some day, adding that perhaps we could help you. Maybe we can help you now.”
“You can help me, and you have helped me,” said Mr. Bell. “I can tell you the rest of my story now. As I said I have long been in quest of some one. That some one is my son Tommy. I did not want to tell you of him before, as I was afraid the news would get out. Nor did I tell you why the gang wanted me in their power. It is because I hold the final title to a piece of valuable property, and they can not get possession of it until I sign off, which I refused to do!”
“Why so?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“Because I understand the property is now claimed by persons who, if not in the eyes of the law, are, still the rightful owners. If I should sign my rights away to the gang they would take the property away from the innocent holders now. So I refused to sign, and they have ruined me for it.”
“Never mind,” said the professor, cheerfully. “We will get you out of their power, never fear.”
“I wonder if the gang that had Tommy is not the same one that had Mr. Bell in their power,” suggested Bob. “He told us about men wanting him to sign papers that would give them control of some land.”
“They must be the same,” commented Mr. Bell. “I will be on my guard now. Neither Tommy nor I will sign a single document. But now I must start.”
“Very well,” said Ned.
There was no further cause for delay, so Jerry got the automobile ready, and, the various belongings having been stowed away, the engine was started, after a somewhat longer rest than usual, and, puffing away in a manner that awoke all the echoes of the forest, the car started toward the village at the foot of the slope. From there, it was arranged Mr. Bell would go forward to Las Cruces by stage coach, or whatever other means of travel presented themselves.
Once fairly on the road the spirits of all in the party rose. It was a fine day, and the fresh mountain air, crisp and cool, put new life into their veins.
They were bowling along the road at a good clip with Jerry at the wheel, when, suddenly in the air above their heads, there sounded a shrill buzz.
“That’s a new kind of a bumble bee,” cried Uriah Snodgrass. “I must have it for my collection.”
“I guess you wouldn’t want many of that kind,” said Mr. Bell, quietly.
“Why not? I like all kinds.”
“That was a lead one,” went on the old man.
“You mean a bullet?” asked Bob. “Is some one firing at us?”
“I’m afraid so,” answered the hermit.
Then came a distant report, followed by the peculiar buzzing sound.
“Speed her up!” cried Bob to Jerry. “Let’s get out of this danger zone. It’s too much like being on the firing line to suit me.”
The auto, all this while was speeding along, and, soon, the shooters, whoever they were, had been left far in the rear. The sound of the bullets was no longer heard.
“The reason they are doing it,” answered Mr. Bell, “is that they want to get me alive. If I was to be killed their last chance of getting me to sign the papers would be gone.”
“But there is your son, Tommy,” said Jerry. “He told us they wanted him to sign. If you were dead, he would be your heir, and his signature would be legal when he became of age. Perhaps the men could make use of it even before then.”
“I see! I see!” exclaimed Mr. Bell. “It is important then that I live so I can beat them at their own game.”
“Unless you don’t care about living on your own account or that of your son’s,” said the professor, grimly.
They kept on steady after this and at last reached the bottom of the mountain slope.
“Now for the village,” exclaimed Mr. Bell. “I shall soon see my boy!”
Faster and faster went the auto. The traveling was good, and Jerry speeded the car to the last notch. About six o’clock they rolled into town, to the surprise of many of the inhabitants, who had never seen one of the puffing, snorting things, though they had read of them.
A knot of curious persons gathered around the machine as Jerry brought it to a stop in front of the post-office. Several boys began to inspect every part. The travelers were about to alight when a shrill voice cried out.
“Hey, Jerry! And Bob! And Ned! Hey there! Oh, how glad I am to see you!”
For a moment the Motor Boys did not recognize the voice. Then Ned saw a lad trying to break through the crowd.
“It’s Tommy! It’s Tommy Bell!” exclaimed Ned. “Hey, Tommy! You can’t guess who we have with us!”
“Tommy Bell! Did you say Tommy Bell!” exclaimed the hermit. “Where is he? Let me see him!”
But Tommy had heard his parent’s voice, and the next instant the boy had made a flying leap into the car, and was clasped in his father’s arms.
“Where in the world did you come from?” asked Jerry of Tommy.
“How did you get here?” inquired Ned.
“How did you know where to find us?” Bob wanted to know.
But to all these questions Tommy turned a deaf ear. He was so overjoyed at seeing his father, and the hermit was so excited at seeing his son once more, that neither had eyes nor ears for anything or any one except the other.
The crowd looked on curiously, the interest divided between the automobile and the meeting between father and son. Finally, when Mr. Bell and Tommy had, temporarily, exhausted the theme of telling each other how glad they were at being united, the boys had a chance to get a word in edgeways, and Tommy answered a few of their questions.
He told them that he had remained for several days with his friend in Las Cruces, and how a traveling miner had, in a general conversation, mentioned the lake and told of the queer hermit that lived on the shores.
Something in the description of this odd character impressed Tommy with the belief that the hermit might be his father, who had taken that method to escape the gang which wanted him to sign away his rights. Accordingly, the boy had started from Las Cruces and made his way to Deighton, the town where Mr. Bell expected to start in search of his son.
“I got here this morning,” said Tommy, “and I found a little work to do to earn some money. I was going to start up the mountain to-morrow and try and find the lake.”
“Now you don’t have to,” said Mr. Bell. “Well, it certainly is a queer world.”
The travelers spent the night at the Deighton hotel, and, in the morning, after a good breakfast, assembled to talk over their plans for the future.
“Do you intend to go back to Lost Lake, Mr. Bell?” asked the professor. “If you do, you and your son can ride that far in the automobile, since we are going back in that direction.”
“Where are you going after you leave Lost Lake?” asked Mr. Bell.
“To Arizona,” answered Jerry. “We have a mine there, and we must go to see how things are getting on.”
“That’s rather odd,” commented the hermit. “I have an interest in some mining property in Arizona, though I don’t suppose it is anywhere near yours. But I have made up my mind not to go back to Lost Lake, except to bring away a few things that I left in the cabin. I would also like to provide for poor Kate. After that I think Tommy and I will go to Arizona and try our fortunes over again.”
“Then why not go with us?” spoke Jerry. “We have plenty of room in the machine, and we’d be glad of your company.”
“I would like to very much,” said Mr. Bell, “if I thought I would not bother you.”
He was assured that he would be very welcome, and then he consented to go. A new stock of provisions was purchased, together with some ammunition and some other supplies for the auto. Then, amid the cheers of more than half the populace of Deighton, the travelers began their journey toward Lost Lake again.
Mr. Bell had made arrangements with a family in the town to take charge of Kate whom he promised to send to them, for he knew he could depend on the woman to obey him and make the journey alone.
Lost Lake was reached on the second day, for the travelers were delayed by a landslide, and had to camp out one night. They found the camp and the hermit’s hut undisturbed.
“I guess none of the gang has been around lately,” remarked Jerry.
“I hope we have seen the last of them,” put in Mr. Bell. “They certainly caused enough trouble.”
A few blasts on the horn brought Kate, and the poor demented woman was overjoyed to see her friends again. She made much of Tommy, who, she said, looked enough like his father to be recognized on the darkest night.
At first the crazy woman objected to being sent to Deighton, but Mr. Bell knew how to reason with her, and after some argument, she consented to go. She started away on the second morning, and, as the travelers learned later, eventually reached the family that had consented to care for her. Under skillful medical treatment Kate partly recovered her reason, and continued to live in Deighton for many years.
“Now,” remarked the professor, when they had seen Kate started off on her journey, “I suppose it is time for us to move. So let’s get started toward our mine, for I’m sure Nestor must be quite anxious to see us.”
“Onward it is, then!” exclaimed Ned. “All aboard, and may we have a safe trip!”
With Ned at the steering wheel the auto was started off. The way was rather rougher than any they had yet traveled over, and for some distance the ascent was steep. But with a new set of batteries and spark plugs, and with everything on the car well adjusted, matters went along smoothly, though no very great speed could be attained.
Mile after mile was covered, the auto mounting higher and higher amid the mountains. There were no signs of human habitation, not even a deserted miner’s hut being passed the first two days of the trip.
Of course there was no shelter to be had, and nights were spent in the open. But as the weather was mild, and as it did not rain, this was considered more a pleasure than a hardship.
The third day they began to see signs that told them they were approaching a town. Now and then cabins and huts would be passed, mostly the lonely homes of solitary miners, who were prospecting for gold. Sometimes they would pass quite good sized camps, and about noon of the fourth day they were invited to come in and have a meal, which they were glad to do.
The miners told them the nearest town was Sleighton, seventy-five miles away, and that it was the centre of activity for a large area of country round about.
“And I wouldn’t advise you folks to speed that there machine of yours when you strike the village,” said one of the miners.
“Why not?” asked Jerry.
“Because the marshal is very strict, and he ain’t got no very great hankerin’ fer choo-choo wagons.”
“We’ll look out,” promised Jerry. “We are in too much of a hurry to want any delays.”
“I wonder if we’ll hear anything more of that gang,” said Ned as they rode away from the mining camp. “It seems queer that they would drop the thing when they seemed so anxious to capture Mr. Bell.”
“We’ll hear of them again, and in a way we won’t like, I’m afraid,” said the former hermit. “We’ll have to be on the lookout.”
Several days’ travel brought the party over the line into Arizona. They passed through a small village one noon, and, on inquiring their where-abouts were told that they were well within the borders of the state where their gold mine was located.
It began to rain shortly after this, and their trip was rather unpleasant, but, well wrapped up in rubber coats, they managed to keep fairly dry. As for the auto it did not seem to mind what kind of weather it was.
They camped that night under a clump of pine trees which served as a partial shelter, and it was so wet that no fire could be built. Jerry resorted to the stove made from one of the search-lights, and made some hot chocolate that warmed them all up.
The next day dawned clear, however, and with a better feeling the travelers took up their journey again. The way was becoming familiar to them, and they recognized many landmarks they had observed in their great race across the continent to secure the gold mine before Noddy Nixon and his crowd could win the claim, as told in detail in “The Motor Boys Overland.”
That night they stayed in the town where the government assay office was located and to reach which there had been such an exciting brush between the two automobiles, the one run by Noddy, and that run by the Motor Boys. They saw several men whom they knew slightly, and who appeared much surprised to see them again.
“Well, well, well, where in the world did you come from?” asked the proprietor of the hotel, as the auto drew up in front of his place. He had been quite friendly with the boys while they stayed at the mine, and had sold them many supplies.
“We’ve been down to Mexico for a change of air,” said Jerry.
“I suppose it didn’t agree with you, or you wouldn’t be coming back so soon,” went on the proprietor.
“Well, we thought our mine needed looking after,” Jerry remarked.
“Looking after? I should say it did,” the proprietor continued. “Jim Nestor was here the other day and he said if you didn’t come back pretty soon and do something, there wouldn’t be any mine.”
“Is that right?” asked Ned, thinking the man might be trying to scare them for a joke.
“Straight as a string,” was the answer. “It seems that the title to the place is in doubt.”
“I know, Nestor wrote us about that,” put in Jerry. “But he is still in possession, isn’t he?”
“Can’t say,” replied the hotel man. “He was very anxious the last time I saw him, and that was a week ago. If I was you I’d look after it the first thing in the morning.”
“We will,” said Jerry. “I wonder if the government office is closed.”
“Long ago,” said the proprietor of the inn. “Why?”
“I was thinking I could go there and find out what sort of claim there was against our property,” answered the boy.
“You’ll have to wait until ten o’clock to-morrow morning,” went on the man. “They’ve got a new official in charge and he takes more time off than he puts in. Some one ought to write to the President about it. There’s lots of kicks about the way he acts.”
Neither the boys nor the professor did much sleeping that night, because of worry over the mine tangle. They made an early breakfast and then started for their claim, which they expected to reach in about two hours unless something unexpected occurs.
The way was familiar to them, and recalled many old memories of the exciting times they had in locating and proving their claim. They pointed out to Mr. Bell the various landmarks as they passed them, but the former hermit seemed to have fallen into a sort of stupor. His eyes had a vacant stare and he took no interest in what was being said.
“I’m afraid he’s going to be sick,” said Jerry to the professor. “He has hardly spoken since we came into Arizona, and he used to be quite a talker.”
“I guess it is only the excitement wearing off,” said Mr. Snodgrass. “He will be all right in a day or two. He has had a pretty hard life the last few weeks.”
Tommy was worried about his father, and sat beside him, holding his hand, now and then looking up into his face, as if he feared to lose his parent again.
As they neared the mine Mr. Bell seemed to become more dazed. Yet he appeared to be struggling to recall something that he had once known and forgotten.
Suddenly he stood up in the automobile, as the car passed a deserted and tumbled down hut and exclaimed:
“See! There it is! There is the place!”
“What place, father? What do you mean?” asked Tommy.
But Mr. Bell sat down again, and seemed to have forgotten that he had spoken. The professor could note, however, that there was a struggle going on in the old man’s mind.
“I hope he does not become raving mad, yet it looks bad for him,” the professor thought to himself.
“Ten minutes more and we’ll be there!” exclaimed Jerry, crowding on a little more speed. “I do hope Nestor is having no trouble.”
They were in the midst of a wild mountainous country now. On either side of the road were great bowlders, while a little further back was scrub timber which extended for a mile or more before the deeper woods were reached.
They were just rounding the last turn of the road to swing into the straight stretch that would take them to the mine when there sounded on the air the crack of a rifle. An instant later Mr. Bell gave a convulsive start and fell over in his seat.
“They’ve killed him! They’ve shot him!” cried Tommy, while Jerry suddenly brought the machine to a stop. Glancing across to the left a small curling cloud of smoke could be seen floating above a big stone.
“There’s where the shot came from,” said Ned.
“Is he badly hurt?” asked Jerry of Professor Snodgrass, who was bending over Mr. Bell.
“It is hard to say,” was the answer. “The bullet struck him on the head, but there is so much blood I can’t tell how bad the wound is. Push on to the mine. Perhaps Nestor can help us.”
Jerry started the machine again. It had attained a good speed when, from the side of the road came a hail.
“Motor Boys, ahoy!”
“There’s Nestor!” cried Ned, pointing to a man who stood in front of a small shanty. “Hello, Nestor!” he called.
“Hello!” responded the miner, running down to the road. “Well, I am certainly glad to see you.”
“Quick, Nestor!” exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass. “We have a wounded man here, and must get him to the shanty at the mine as soon as possible.”
“We can’t do it,” replied Nestor.
“Why not?”
“Didn’t you get my letter?”
“Only the one saying there might be a possibility of trouble.”
“Well trouble came all right. I’ve been driven from the mine, and it’s in possession of a bad gang. So we can’t take the wounded man there.”
“What are we to do?” asked Jerry, seeing that Mr. Bell was bleeding badly.
“Bring him into my cabin,” said Nestor. “I came here after the gang drove me out. I can put you up, I guess.”
Jerry ran the car up close to the shanty and Mr. Bell, who was unconscious, was carried in and laid as tenderly as possible on the single bunk of which the place boasted.
“Now some warm water and clean clothes,” said Mr. Snodgrass. “I must wash the wound and see how bad it is.”
“I haven’t a bit of hot water,” said Nestor.
“There’s plenty in the radiator of the auto,” spoke Jerry. “Give me a pail and I’ll soon get some.”
He soon had a plentiful supply that was almost boiling, and, cooling it somewhat, the naturalist carefully washed the blood from the wounded man’s head. Then he examined the hurt.
“Will he die?” asked Tommy, as he stood around, tearfully.
“Not this time,” replied Mr. Snodgrass, cheerfully. “The bullet appears to have only grazed the scalp a bit, but it probably gave him a pretty hard knock. He’ll soon come around right I guess.”
Mr. Bell was made as comfortable as possible, and, as there was nothing to do but wait until he became conscious, he was left in charge of his son. Tommy was told to call as soon as his father showed signs of awakening, and then the others surrounded Nestor, eager to hear about the mine.
“I guess it’s gone,” said the old prospector. “As I wrote you, the title seems to have some flaw in it, and this gang, which came from somewheres to the southeast, found it out, and served papers on me. It appears that there is a man missing who holds the key to the situation, and who owns the majority of the mine, but he can’t be found, and so our title is no good.”
The news depressed the spirits of all. They had been hoping that the trouble was small and temporary and that Nestor would find a way out. Now they stood to lose the mine they had struggled so hard to get.
“Did you resist their claim?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“You bet I did,” replied Nestor. “I went to court over it, but the judge said though it was morally wrong to put me out, yet the others had the law on their side, and he had to decide against me.
“I didn’t give up even then, for I barricaded the place and defied ’em to get me out. But the sheriff came and said that was no way to do. He had the law with him, and he said it would be his duty to shoot me if I resisted. He advised going to a higher court, and so, rather than have any bloodshed I gave up, and decided to camp out here until you came. I’ve been here about two weeks now.”
“Then the mine’s gone,” remarked Jerry, sorrowfully.
“We can try the courts,” said Nestor, hopefully.
“It would take years to settle the case,” put in Mr. Snodgrass. “No, I guess you are beaten, boys.”
“I will not give up yet,” said Jerry.
“What are you going to do?” asked Ned.
“I’m going to town, hire the best lawyer I can get, and see what he says. There may be a way out of this yet.”
“That’s the way to talk!” exclaimed Bob. “I’m with you.”
Jerry lost no time. He hurried to the auto, and with Bob for company made the run to town in record time. He was directed to a lawyer’s office, and, finding the attorney, who was a young chap, in, paid him a retainer and stated the case briefly.
“I just want to know how we stand, what sort of a claim there is against our title, and what we can do to perfect it,” said Jerry.
“It’s quite a lot of information to get at in a hurry,” said the lawyer, “but I’ll do my best. I’ll be ready for you at four o’clock this afternoon.”
“I’ll call for you then,” went on Jerry, “and take you back to Nestor’s shanty, where you can explain the whole thing to us.”
Then the boys, with a feeling of dread that their mine was gone forever, in spite of all they could do, went back to where the others were.
They found Mr. Bell in much the same condition as before, though Mr. Snodgrass said the wounded man’s breathing was a little easier, which was a good sign.
“And what about the mine?” asked the naturalist. Jerry told him the lawyer was coming.
“I’m afraid it will be of little use,” said the professor. “Nestor says they had a big lawyer to represent the gang, and they also have a large force in charge of the mine, taking out gold.”
“And it’s our gold,” exclaimed Jerry. “Oh, why didn’t we get back sooner?”
“It wouldn’t have done much good,” spoke Nestor. “I did all I could, but the law was on their side.”
“Of course, I didn’t mean that you failed,” Jerry hastened to add, for fear of hurting the old miner’s feelings. “It’s too bad, that’s all.”
After a somewhat gloomy dinner, which the professor tried to liven up by telling jokes and funny stories, Jerry oiled the machine, and, about two o’clock started back to town for the lawyer. He found the attorney waiting for him, with several big law books in a valise.
“Any luck?” asked Jerry.
“Not a great deal,” was the answer.
“Well, don’t tell us until we are all together,” went on Jerry. “I don’t want to stand it all alone.”
When, on arrival at Nestor’s cabin, the lawyer proceeded to tell what he had learned, there were six very attentive listeners.
The attorney went over the ground carefully, and told the boys, Nestor and Professor Snodgrass, much that they had already heard. How, because of a missing owner who held more than a half interest in the mine, the title was not good when the boys preëmpted it. In fact it was still the property of others, though about to lapse.
“I don’t understand all them legal terms,” put in Nestor, “but didn’t we make a good claim to the government for that mine?”
“You did, as far as it went,” replied the lawyer. “Uncle Sam gave you a title, but did not guarantee that some one did not have a better one, which it seems is the case.”
“But that gang hasn’t a good title either, not if the owner of over half the shares is missing,” went on Nestor.
“No, but it seems, according to the records, that they have some sort of an agreement from this missing man that they are empowered to work the claim until he comes to demand his share.”
“If that’s the case I’m for going up there and driving them out with a gun!” exclaimed Nestor. “They haven’t any more right than we have, and we can at least make them go shares with us until this missing man shows up. What’s the matter with attacking them to-night.”
“If you’re going to resort to lawless means I’ll have to throw up the case,” said the attorney. “That is no way to talk.”
“Nestor doesn’t mean it at all,” put in Jerry. “Of course we will have no battle with that gang.”
“There are two ways we might proceed,” the lawyer went on. “There may be more, but they are the only ones that suggest themselves to me from what time I was able to give to the case.”
“What would you advise?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“You can apply to the courts for an injunction to prevent the working of the mine until the missing half-owner shows up.”
“But that would bar us as well as them,” put in Jerry.
“Yes, it would have that effect, if you secured the injunction, which is doubtful. It would be a long and costly litigation, I fear.”
“And what is the other plan?”
“You might try to find the missing man, and buy him out, or make some arrangement with him. From what I can learn he and the others have quarreled and are opposed to each other.”
“Where is the missing man?” asked Bob.
“That is something on which I can not be of the least help to you,” was the reply. “There is nothing to show where he is.”
“Then it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack to search for him, and as long and costly as the injunction means,” commented Mr. Snodgrass.
“I’m afraid it would,” was the lawyer’s answer.
“What is the man’s name?” asked Jerry.
“I have it here,” proceeded the attorney. “It is Mr. Well, no, that’s not it. Oh yes! Here it is. Bell, that’s it. Mr. Jackson Bell.”
“What?” fairly shouted the three boys at once.
“What name?” inquired the professor, wondering if he had heard aright.
“Jackson Bell,” repeated the lawyer. “Why, do you know him?”
“Know him?” went on Jerry, jumping up in his excitement. “Why he is in the next room this very minute! Well of all the strange pieces of luck!”
Then they all tried to tell the lawyer at once the story of the hermit and his son, making such a jumble that the attorney had to beg them to stop, while he listened to one at a time. Finally the tale was related, and the boys and the professor as well, greatly excited, paused to see what the lawyer would say.
“Then I don’t see any further trouble to your getting possession of the mine,” said the attorney. “If Mr. Bell is on your side, and you make a joint application to the court or even to the government agent, I am sure you will be given instant charge of the claim.”
“There is only one difficulty,” said Mr. Snodgrass. “Mr. Bell is wounded. His mind was not strong before the shooting, and it may be altogether gone when he recovers consciousness. In that case—?”
“In that case I’m afraid you are as badly off as before,” finished the lawyer.
The door to the inner room, where Mr. Bell was in the bunk, opened, and Tommy came out, looking worried.
“Is he worse, Tommy?” asked the professor.
“He’s acting very queer,” replied the boy. “He is sitting up in bed, and is trying to get something out from under his shirt. He’s talking something about a mine.”
“He is probably delirious,” said Mr. Snodgrass. “We must have a doctor. I’m afraid it looks bad for us, boys.”
At that instant the form of Mr. Bell, weak and tottering, showed in the doorway. He seemed greatly excited.
“There you are!” he cried tearing open his shirt and throwing a bundle, done up in oiled silk on the table. “There are the papers. There are the proofs to the mine. The gang did not get them after all!”
“Calm yourself,” spoke Mr. Snodgrass, in a soothing tone that one uses to sick children or fever patients.
“I’m all right!” exclaimed Mr. Bell. “Don’t think I’m crazy. I was a little off my head, but the wound the bullet gave me, and the blood I lost, accomplished just what was needed. There, I tell you, are the papers proving my claim to the mine.”
“What mine?” asked the professor, while the others waited in anxiety for the answer.
“The mine we were going to,” responded the old man. “From the description you boys gave of it I recognize it as the same one I have more than a half share in. All the way up here I was trying to recall when I had been here before. I recognized the places, but my mind would not serve me. I had suffered so much that I was almost crazy. Then came the shot, and I did not know anything more, until I just woke up in that room, and remembered all about it. Now we will beat that gang.”
“Hurrah!” cried Jerry, seizing Ned by the arms and starting to dance a hornpipe.
“Are you sure you can not be mistaken about the mine?” asked Mr. Snodgrass, for it seemed hardly possible that the old hermit, whom they had rescued, should turn out to be the much-wanted missing owner.
“There are the papers, you can see for yourself,” replied Mr. Bell.
The lawyer, at a sign from the professor, made a careful examination of the documents.
“They seem to be all right,” he said. “I have no doubt but that you can fully establish your claim, Mr. Bell.”
“It isn’t my claim, sir.”
“Why I thought you said—”
“Everything I have or own is the property of these noble boys and Professor Snodgrass,” went on the former hermit. “They saved my life, and that of my son’s. If I gave them a hundred mines I could not repay them.”
“But we do not want your share,” said Mr. Snodgrass.
“It don’t make any difference what you want, you’ve got to take it,” said Mr. Bell, firmly.
“We can settle that part later,” put in the lawyer. “The thing to do now is to get possession of the mine. If you wish I will act for you.”
“Of course we want you to,” said Jerry.
“Very well. I will take these papers, and go to court with them. If I am successful, as I have no doubt I shall be, I will apply to the sheriff to oust the crowd that is in charge of the mine. Then you and Mr. Bell can take possession.”
“That’s the way to talk!” fairly yelled Nestor, who was anxious to get back to the “diggings.”
The lawyer was hurried back to town in the auto. Nothing could be done that afternoon, as the court was closed. He promised to be on hand early in the morning.
The boys could hardly sleep that night. Mr. Bell seemed to have fully recovered, and, beyond a slight pain where the bullet had hit him, he did not suffer. It was late when they went to bed, and somewhat late when they arose.
“I’m going into town and see what’s doing,” said Jerry after breakfast.
“So am I,” cried Ned and Bob.
“Better not,” went on Jerry. “If I have to bring back the lawyer, and the sheriff and some of his deputies to read the riot act to the gang, I’ll need all the room there is.”
So Jerry went off alone in the car. He did not find the lawyer in, but the attorney’s clerk said he was at court.
“I’ll wait until he comes back,” said Jerry, and he sat down in the office. Two hours later, the lawyer came in.
“What luck?” asked Jerry.
“The very best. I have a peremptory order commanding that crowd to turn the mine over to your party and Mr. Bell. Come on, we’ll get the sheriff and finish the thing right up.”
The sheriff was only too glad of a chance for some activity. He and three deputies, well armed, got into the car, and Jerry started off. To the boy the machine never seemed to move so slowly, but several times one of the deputies threatened to jump out if the auto did not slacken up a bit.
Arriving at the cabin, Nestor, the two boys, and Professor Snodgrass were found anxiously waiting.
“Now for the mine!” cried Jerry, as he rapidly explained the success of the mission.
“Wait till I get my gun,” said Nestor.
“No shooting unless we have to,” warned the sheriff.
Then they advanced on the mine. An eighth of a mile away they were halted by a guard. But an order from the sheriff, and a sight of the command from the court, made the guard give in, and he was sent back to the cabin, in custody of one of the deputies.
Then, without any warning, the party descended on the others of the gang, who were all gathered in the main cabin at dinner.
At first it looked as if there was going to be trouble. Several made an attempt to get their guns, but Nestor, the sheriff, and his man, had covered them, and they saw that the game was up.
“I’ll read you this court order,” said the sheriff.
“You needn’t bother,” spoke the leader, whom the boys recognized as one of the men who had held Tommy a captive. Others in the gang were recognizable as men who had tried to capture Mr. Bell at Lost Lake.
“We played a bold game, but we lost,” said the leader, as he and his companions, gathering up their baggage, left the cabin, and made their way toward town. They did not go there, however,—since they feared further proceedings,—and were never heard of again.
“Hurrah, now we have our mine back again!” cried Jerry. “I wonder if it is paying?”
“Better than ever, by the looks of this stuff,” answered Jim Nestor, picking up some newly-mined ore that lay on ground. “No wonder that crowd wanted to keep possession of the mine.”
There followed a general jollification. The boys got up a fine dinner, at which the sheriff, his men, and the lawyer were guests. An arrangement was made whereby Mr. Bell should retain a large interest in the mine, while the other share was divided between our friends as before. The lawyer received a generous fee, and the sheriff and his men were not forgotten.
“Well,” said Jerry, a week later, “we came out all right, didn’t we? I presume our adventures are all over now.”
“Don’t be too sure,” put in Bob. “Something else may turn up soon.” And Bob was right, as we shall learn in another volume, to be called, “The Motor Boys Afloat; Or, The Stirring Cruise of the Dartaway,” a tale of land and sea.
The days to follow were busy ones for Jim Nestor and the boys. The mine was started up in better shape than ever before, new machinery put in, and extra workmen engaged. Letters were sent to the boys’ folks, telling of all that had happened.