THE CALL OF THE BEAVER PATROL

OR

A Break in the Glacier

By

CAPT. V. T. SHERMAN

Author of

THE WAR ZONE OF THE KAISER;

BOY SCOUTS WITH JOFFRE;

THE PERILS OF AN AIRSHIP;

THE BOY SCOUT SIGNAL,

Etc.

Copyright 1913

Chicago

M. A. DONOHUE & CO.

CONTENTS

Boy Scouts in the Coal Caverns

Or, The Light in Tunnel Six

CONTENTS

Chapter I

CAMPING IN THE BREAKER

“And so I says to myself, says I, give me a good
husky band of Boy Scouts! They’ll do the job if it
can be done!”

Case Canfield, caretaker, sat back in a patched
chair in the dusky, unoccupied office of the Labyrinth
mine and addressed himself to four lads of
seventeen who were clad in the khaki uniform of
the Boy Scouts of America.

Those of our readers who have read the previous
books of this series will have good cause to remember
George Benton, Charley (“Sandy”) Green,
Tommy Gregory and Will Smith. The adventures
of these lads among the Pictured Rocks of Old
Superior, among the wreckers and reptiles of the
Florida Everglades, in the caverns of the Great Continental
Divide, and among the snows of the Hudson
Bay wilderness have been recorded under appropriate
titles in previous works.

The four boys were members of the Beaver Patrol,
Chicago. Will Smith was Scoutmaster, while George
Benton was Patrol Leader. They wore upon the
sleeves of their coats medals showing that they had
passed the examination as Ambulance Aids, Stalkers,
Pioneers and Seamen.

Instructed by Mr. Horton, a well-known criminal
lawyer of Chicago, the boys had reached the almost
deserted mine at dusk of a November day. There
they had found Canfield, the caretaker, waiting for
them in a dimly-lighted office. The mine had not
been operated for a number of months, not because
the veins had given out, but because of some misunderstanding
between the owners of mines in
that section.

The large, bare room in which the caretaker and
the Boy Scouts met was in the breaker. There was
no fire in the great heater, and the tables and chairs
were black with dust. A single electric light shone
down from the ceiling, creating long, ghostlike
shadows as it swayed about in a gentle wind blowing
through a broken window.

“Well,” Tommy Gregory said, as the caretaker
paused, “you’ve got the Boy Scouts, and it remains
for you to set us to work.”

“And a sturdy looking lot, too!” grinned the caretaker.

“Oh, Mr. Horton wouldn’t be apt to send a lot of
cripples!” laughed Sandy Green. “He’s next to his
job, that man is!”

“I presume he told you all about the case?” suggested
Canfield.

“Indeed he did not,” replied Will Smith.

“Not a thing about it?” asked the caretaker.

“He only said that you would give us full instructions.”

“That’s strange!” Canfield observed thoughtfully.

“Perhaps he thought we wouldn’t want to undertake
the job if we knew exactly what it was!” suggested
Sandy.

“It is a queer kind of a job,” Canfield admitted,
“but I don’t think you boys would be apt to back
out because of a little danger.”

“I have wanted to back out several times,” laughed
Tommy, “but, somehow, these others boys wouldn’t
permit me to.”

“Go on and tell us about it,” urged Sandy. “Tell
us just what you want us to do, and then we’ll tell
you whether we think we can do it or not.”

“You’ve got to find two boys!” replied Canfield.

“Mother of Moses!” exclaimed Tommy. “I hope
we haven’t got to go and dig up blond-haired little
Algernon, or discover pretty little Clarence, and turn
a bunch of money over to him!”

“I think these two boys may have money coming
to them,” the caretaker replied. “There must be
money back of it or the friends of the lads wouldn’t
be giving me cash to spend in their interest.”

“Where are these boys?” asked Will.

“I’ve heard the opinion expressed that the boys
are somewhere in the mine!” answered Canfield.
“I can hardly believe that they are, but it has been
suggested that we may as well begin the search under
ground.”

“Where do these boys belong?” asked George.

“Anywhere and everywhere,” was the reply.
“Jimmie Maynard and Dick Thompson came here
as breaker boys six months ago. They were ragged
and dirty, and appeared to be as tough as two
young bears. They worked steadily until the day
before the mine closed down and then they disappeared.”

“That’s easy!” declared Tommy. “They got
tired of work!”

“That may be,” answered the caretaker, “but
they certainly didn’t get tired of drawing their pay.
They went away leaving about eight dollars, the two
of them, in the care of the company.”

“Then something must have happened to them!”
Will suggested.

“Who’s looking for these boys?” asked George.

“A New York lawyer,” was the reply. “I know
nothing whatever about the man. In fact, I don’t
know why he wants to find out where the boys are.
He sends me money and tells me to continue my quest
until the boys are found, and then to send them to
New York.”

“So you have entire charge of the search,” said
Sandy, tentatively.

“Yes,” was the reply, “except for Joe Ventner.
He’s a detective sent on from New York by this
Burlingame person, the lawyer to whom I referred a
short time ago.”

“What part of the world is he searching?” asked
Will.

“He seems to think that the boys ran away because
of some childish prank put on by them the
night before. They broke some windows in a couple
of shanties down by the tracks, or, at least, the other
boys say they did, and Joe thinks they ran away because
of that. He accounts in that way for their
not calling after their pay envelopes.”

“So he thinks they’ve gone out of the country,
does he.”

“Yes,” was the reply. “He comes back here
every few days to ask if I have heard anything regarding
the youngsters, and then goes away again.
If you leave it to me, I don’t think the fellow is
working very hard in the case. There’s a half a
dozen saloons in a little dump of a place about ten
miles away, and my idea is that he puts in a good
deal of his time there.”

“You don’t seem to take to this detective?”
asked George.

“Oh, I don’t know as he’s so much worse than the
average private detective,” replied the caretaker.
“He’s out for his day’s wages, and the easier he can
get them, the better it suits him.

“So you don’t know who wants these boys, or what
they’re wanted for?” asked Will. “Lawyer Burlingame
never took you into his confidence so far as
to post you on the details of the case”.

“He never did!” answered the caretaker.

“Is he liberal with his money?” asked George.

“He pays all the bills I send in,” was the answer.
“And seems to keep this bum detective pretty well
supplied with ten-dollar bills”.

“We may have to investigate this investigator!”
laughed Sandy.

“Did Mr. Horton say anything to you about your
lodgings while here?” asked the caretaker. “It’s
getting too cold here for me, and we may as well be
shifting to warmer quarters.”

“You said a short time ago,” Will began, “that
you rather thought we ought to begin this search in
the mine itself.”

“That’s my idea!” answered the caretaker.

“Do you think the boys are hiding in the mine?”

“Well, there are some things connected with the
case which point in that direction,” replied Canfield.
“For instance, there’s a lot of queer things going on
under ground”.

“Ghosts?” demanded Tommy.

“You’re not steering us up against a haunted
mine, are you?” asked George with a wink at his
chum. “That would be too good to be true!”

“I haven’t said anything about ghosts or haunted
mines,” chuckled the caretaker. “I’m only saying
that there are queer things taking place in the mine.
Now there’s Tunnel Six,” he went on, “I have seen
lights there with my own eyes, when I know there
wasn’t a person within two miles of the spot except
myself. And I’ve heard noises, too! These unaccountable
noises which make a man think of graveyards
and ghosts.”

“But why should two healthy, active boys want
to seek such a hiding place?” asked Will. “It
certainly can’t be very pleasant in the dark and damp
tunnels! Besides, where would they get their provisions?”

“I’m not arguing the case, lads,” the caretaker
replied, “I’m placing the case in your hands without
instructions. I only suggest that you look in
the mine first, but you don’t have to do that unless
you want to!”

“I don’t see how we can find fault with that arrangement!”
laughed Will. “And now,” he went
on, “let’s arrange about our lodgings. In the first
place, who knows that we are here on this job?”

“Not a soul, unless some one saw you coming into
the breaker!”

“That’s just as it should be,” Will went on.
“Now I propose that we camp out in the breaker.
There must be a cosy corner somewhere, under the
chutes, or in back of a staircase, or away up under
the roof, where we can camp out while we are going
through the mine.”

“You won’t find the old breaker a very comfortable
place to live in,” suggested Canfield.

“Oh, we can line the walls of some little cubby-hole
with canvas if necessary, and you can string a
wire in so as to give us electricity for heating and
lighting, and we can live as comfortable as four bugs
in a rug. If we keep out of sight during the day
time, no one will ever suspect that we are here.”

“Have it your own way!” replied Canfield. “I’ll
see that you get plenty to eat and plenty of bed
clothing.”

“That’ll help some!” laughed Tommy. “During
the night we can travel through the mine with our
lights, and during the daytime we can crawl into our
little beds and sleep our heads off!”

“When do you want your first load of provisions?”
asked Canfield.

“Right now, tonight!” replied Sandy.

“Well, come along then,” Canfield said, rising
from his chair, “and I’ll let you pick out a spot for
your camp, as you call it.”

After quite an extended search through the breaker
the boys selected a small room on the ground floor,
from which one window looked out on the half-deserted
yard where the weigh-house stood. The
room was perhaps twenty feet in size each way, and
the walls were of heavy planking. The whole apartment
was sadly in need of a scrubbing, but the lads
concluded to postpone that until some future date.

“I can bring in cot beds and bedding,” the caretaker
announced, “and string the electric wire for
heating, lighting, and cooking before I go to bed.
That will leave you all shipshape in the morning,
and you can then begin your cleaning up as soon as
you please.”

The caretaker was as good as his word, and before
ten o’clock the cots and bedding were in place,
also an electric heater and an electric plate for cooking
had been moved into the apartment.

Not considering it advisable to go out for supper,
Canfield had also brought in provisions in the shape
of bacon, potatoes, eggs, bread, butter, coffee, and
various grades of canned goods, so the boys had made
a hearty meal and had plenty left for breakfast.
While cooking they had covered the one window with
a heavy piece of canvas.

“Now you’re all tight and snug for the night,” the
caretaker smiled, as he turned back from the door
and glanced over the rather cozy-looking room. “If
I’m about here during the night, I’ll look in upon you
again.”

Canfield stepped out and closed the door behind
him. Then he came back and looked in again with
a half-smile on his face.

“Do you boys know anything about mines?” he
asked.

“Not a thing!” replied Tommy.

“Then don’t you go climbing down the ladders
and wandering around in the gangways tonight!”
the caretaker warned.

“Say, there’s an idea!” Tommy said to Sandy,
with a wink, as Canfield went out. “How do you
think one of these mammoth coal mines looks, anyway?”

“Cut that out, boys!” exclaimed Will. “If I
catch one of you attempting the ladders tonight, I’ll
tie you up!”

“Who said anything about going down the ladders
tonight?” demanded Tommy.

Chapter II

THE CALL OF THE PACK

It was somewhere near midnight when the boys
sought their beds. Will and George were soon
asleep, but Tommy and Sandy had no notion of
passing their first night in the mine in slumber. Ten
minutes after the regular breathing of the two
sleepers became audible, Tommy sat up in his bed
and deftly threw a pillow so as to strike Sandy in
the face.

“Cut it out!” whispered Sandy. “You don’t
have to do anything to wake me up! I’ve been
wondering for a long time whether you hadn’t gone
to sleep! You looked sleepy when the light went
out.”

“Never was so wide awake in my life!” declared
Tommy.

“Well, get up and dress,” advised Sandy. “If
we get into the mine tonight, we’ll have to hurry!”

“Have you figured out how we’re going to get into
the mine?” asked Tommy. “It will be the ladders
for us, I guess.”

“Of course it’ll be the ladders!” replied Sandy.
“Do you suppose Canfield is coming here in the
middle of the night to turn on the power?”

“I wonder how deep the shaft is?” asked Tommy.

“I guess this one must be about five hundred
feet.”

“Is that a guess, or a piece of positive information?”

“It’s a guess,” laughed Sandy, drawing on his
shoes and walking softly across the bare floor in the
direction of the shaft.

The boys passed out of the sleeping chamber into
a passage which led directly to the shaft of the mine.
This shaft was perhaps twenty feet in width. It
included the air shaft, the division where the pumps
were operated, and two divisions for the cages which
lifted the coal from the bottom of the mine. The
pumps were not working, of course, and no air was
being forced down.

One of the cages lay at the top so the other must
have been at the bottom of the shaft. As the boys
looked down into the shaft, Tommy seized his chum
by the arm and whispered:

“Did you see that light down there?”

“Light nothing!” declared Sandy.

“But I did see a light!” insisted the other.

“Perhaps you did,” replied Sandy, “but if there’s
any light there it’s merely a reflection from our
electrics. There may be a metallic surface down
there which throws back the light rays.”

“Have it your own way!” grunted Tommy. “You
know yourself that the caretaker said there were
lights in the mine which no one could account for,
and he especially mentioned the light in Tunnel
Six.”

“All right!” Sandy grinned. “We’ll sneak down
so quietly that any person who happens to be at the
bottom of the shaft with the light will never suspect
that we are within a hundred miles of the place. We
may be able to geezle the fellow that’s making the
ghost walk around here nights.”

The boys took to the ladders and moved down as
silently as possible. Now and then a rung creaked
softly under their feet, but they got to the bottom
without any special mishap.

Tommy drew a long breath when at last they
landed at the bottom of the shaft. He threw his
light upward, then, and declared that in his opinion
they were at least ten thousand feet nearer the center
of the earth than they were when they started down.

“I remember now,” Sandy said with a grin, “that
the Labyrinth mine is only about five hundred feet
deep. If I remember correctly, there are three
levels; one at three hundred feet; one at four, and
one at five.”

“And which level is this?” asked Tommy.

“Why, we’re on the bottom, ain’t we?”

“Of course,” laughed Tommy. “I ought to have
known that!”

“Well come along if you want to see the mine!”
urged Sandy. “All we have to do is to push our
searchlights ahead and walk down the gangway.
We’ll come to something worth seeing after a while.”

As the boys advanced they found the gangway
considerably cluttered with “gob,” or refuse, and
the air was none of the best.

“I wish we could set the air shaft working,” suggested
Sandy.

“Well, we can’t!” Tommy answered with a scornful
shrug of his shoulders. “We can’t set the
whole works going in order to give us a midnight
view of the Labyrinth mine. What gets me is, how
are we going to find our way back? There seem to
be a good many passages here.”

“I’ve got that fixed all right!” Sandy exclaimed.

As the lad spoke he took a ball of strong string
from his pocket and tied one end to the cage which
lay at the bottom of the shaft.

“Now we can go anywhere we please,” he chuckled
“and when we want to return, all we’ve got to do is
to follow the string.”

“Quite an idea!” laughed Tommy.

The boys proceeded along the gangway, walking
between the rails of the tramway by means of which
the coal was delivered at the bottom of the shaft.
The experience was a novel one to them. The dark
walls of the passage, the echoes which came from the
counter gangways, the monotonous dripping of water
as it seeped through seams and crevices in the rock,
all gave a weird and uncanny expression to the place.

After walking for some distance the boys came to a
level which showed several inches of water.

“We can’t wade through that!” Tommy declared.

“Well,” Sandy suggested, “if we go back a little
ways, we can follow a cross heading and get into the
mine by another way.”

The boys followed this plan, and, after winding
about several half-loaded cars which had been left
on the tramway, found themselves in a large chamber
from which numerous benches were cut.

“Where does all this gas come from?” asked
Tommy stopping short and putting a hand to his
nose.

“There must be a blower somewhere,” Sandy
explained.

“What’s a blower?” demanded Tommy. “What
does it look like, and does it always smell like this?”

“It doesn’t look like anything!” replied Sandy.
“It’s composed of natural gas, and they call it a
blower because it blows up out of crevices in the
coal and in the rocks.”

“If I should light a match, would it set it on fire?”
asked Tommy.

“I wouldn’t like to have you try it!”

The boys continued on their way for some moments,
and then Tommy stopped and extinguished
his light, whispering to Sandy to do the same.

“What’s that for?” demanded the latter.

“Didn’t you hear that noise behind the cribbing?”
asked Tommy.

“Rats, probably!”

“Rats nothing!” replied Tommy. “Rats don’t
make sounds like people whispering, do they?
Keep still a minute, and we’ll find out what it is!”

“You’ll be seeing a light next!” Sandy suggested.

“I see it now!” answered Tommy.

Sandy saw it, too, in a moment. It seemed at
first to be floating in the air at the very top of the
gangway. It moved from side to side, and finally
dropped down nearer to the floor. There seemed to
be no one near it or under it. Its small circle of
illumination showed only the empty air.

“What do you make of it?” asked Tommy.

“Is this Tunnel Six?” asked his chum.

“I don’t know! If it is, we’ve seen the light the
caretaker referred to. We’ll have a great story to tell
in the morning!”

The boys stood in the darkness of the gangway
watching the light for what seemed to them to be a
long time. Now the light advanced toward them,
now it receded. Now it lifted to the roof of the
gangway, now it dropped almost to the floor.

At intervals, the noises behind the cribbing to
which Tommy had referred were repeated, and the
boys at last moved over so as to stand with their
ears almost against the wooden walls.

“There is some one behind the cribbing, all right!”
Tommy declared. “I hear some one breathing.”

“Aw, keep still!” whispered Sandy. “If there is
anyone there, you’ll frighten them away! I thought
I heard some one myself!”

“I’ll tell you what I think,” Tommy suggested
in a moment, “and that is that either Will and
George, or both of them, beat us to this gangway.
They are hiding behind there on purpose to give us a
scare.”

“That’s a dream!” replied Sandy. “We left them
both asleep.”

“Dream, is it?” repeated Tommy scornfully.
“You just listen to the sound that comes from behind
this cribbing, and tell me what you make of
it!”

Both boys listened intently for a moment, and
then Sandy switched on his light and moved swiftly
along the cribbing as if in search of an opening.
Tommy gazed at him in astonishment.

“You’ve gone and done it now!” he said.

“There’s some one in here all right!” Sandy explained.
“Did you hear the call of the pack a
minute ago? There are Boy Scouts in there, and
what we hear are the signals of the Wolf Patrol.”

“That’s right!” cried Tommy excitedly. “That’s
right!”

Chapter III

WHO CUT THE STRING

“Do you suppose he would understand the call of
the Beaver Patrol?” asked Sandy. “I’m going to
try him, anyway!”

The boy brought his hands together in imitation
of the slap of a beaver’s tail on the water, and
listened for some reply.

“He’ll understand that if he’s up on Boy Scout
literature,” suggested Sandy. “He ought to be
wise to the signs of the different patrols if he’s a
good Boy Scout.”

There was a short silence, broken only by the constant
drip of the water in an adjoining chamber,
and then the call of the pack came again, clearly,
sharply and apparently only a short distance away.

“What did Mr. Canfield call those two boys we
are looking after?” asked Sandy, after waiting a
short time for the repetition of the sound.

“Jimmie Maynard and Dick Thompson,” replied
Tommy.

Sandy threw out his chest and cried out at the
top of his lungs:

“Hello, Jimmie! Hello, Dick!”

The lad’s voice echoed dismally throughout the
labyrinth of passages, but there was no other reply.
Tommy and Sandy gave the call of the Beaver
Patrol repeatedly, but the call of the Wolf pack was
heard no more.

“I’ll bet it’s some trick!” exclaimed Sandy after
waiting in the chamber for a long time in the hope
of hearing another call from the boys who were
hidden somewhere behind the cribbing.

“What do you mean by trick?” demanded
Tommy.

“Why, I mean that some of the breaker boys, out
of work because of the stoppage of operations, may
have sneaked into the mine on purpose to produce
the impression that there are ghosts here.”

“But ghosts wouldn’t be giving signals of the
Wolf Pack, would they?” asked Tommy.

“Not unless they were Scouts,” replied the other.

“Oh well, of course the kids would want to test
us, wouldn’t they, seeing that we were only boys?”

“Well, we’ve discovered one thing by coming
down,” said Tommy, “and that is that there really
are people in the mine who have no business here.”

“Then we may as well go back to bed,” advised
Sandy.

“Do you know how many corners we’ve turned
since we came in here?” asked Tommy.

“About a thousand, I guess,” replied Sandy.

“Yes, and we’d have a fine old time getting out if
you hadn’t brought that ball of twine!”

“Tell you what we’ll do,” Sandy said, as the boys
turned their faces down the gangway, “we’ll pass
around the next shoulder of rock and then shut off
our lights. Perhaps the kids who gave the cry of
the pack in there will then show their light again.”

“That’s a good idea, too!”

The boys came at length to a brattice, which is a
screen, of either wood or heavy cloth, set up in a
passage to divert the current of air to a bench where
workmen are engaged, and dodged down behind it,
first shutting off their lights, of course.

“Now, come on with your old light,” whispered
Tommy.

As if in answer to the boy’s challenge, the light
showed again, apparently but a few yards away from
their hiding place.

A moment later the call of the pack, sounding
louder than before, rang through the passage. The
boys sprang to their feet and switched on their
lights.

“Why don’t you come out and show yourselves?”
shouted Tommy.

“I don’t believe you’re Scouts at all!” declared
Sandy.

There was no answer. The boys could hear the
drip of water and the purring of the current as it
crept into a lower gangway, but that was all.

“That settles it for tonight!” exclaimed Tommy.
“I’m not going to hang around here waiting for Boy
Scouts who don’t respond to signals!”

“That’s me!” agreed Sandy. “We’ll go to bed
and think the matter over. There may be some way
of trapping those fellows.”

“Suppose it should be Jimmie Maynard and Dick
Thompson?” asked Tommy.

“Then we’d have the case closed up in a jiffy!”
was the reply.

Before leaving that particular chamber, Tommy
selected a large round piece of “gob,” placed it in
the center of the open space, and laid another small
piece of shale on top of it.

“What are you doing that for?” demanded Sandy.

“Don’t you know your Indian signs?” demanded
the boy. “That means ‘This is the trail.’ Now
I’ll put a stone to the right, and that will tell these
imitation Boy Scouts to turn to the right if they want
to get out.”

“I guess they can get out if they want to,” suggested
Sandy.

Thirty or forty feet further on, where, following
the string, the boys turned again, this time to the
left, Tommy laid another signal which showed the
direction to be taken.

“There,” he said with a grin, “we’ve started them
on the right path. If they don’t want to follow it,
that isn’t our fault!”

“We must be getting pretty near the shaft,”
Sandy said, after the boys had walked for nearly half
an hour on the backward track.

“Pull on your string,” suggested Tommy, “and see
if it stiffens up like only a short length of it remained
out.”

Sandy did as requested, and then dropped to the
floor with his searchlight laid along the extension of
the cord.

“The other end is loose!” he said in a tone of alarm.

“Loose?” echoed Tommy. “How did it ever get
loose?”

Sandy sat down on the floor of the passage and
began drawing the cord in, hand over hand.

“I’m going to see if it’s been cut!” he said.

Tommy stepped on the swiftly moving cord and
held it fast to the floor.

“You mustn’t draw it in!” he exclaimed. “As
long as it lies on the floor as we strung it out, we can
follow it without taking any chances. If you pull
it in, then it’s all off.”

“I understand!” Sandy agreed. “I didn’t pull
much of it in.”

The boys started up the gangway, one of them
keeping a searchlight on the white thread of cord.

They seemed to make a great many turns and
once or twice Sandy declared that they were walking
round and round in a circle.

“I don’t believe the passages run so we could
walk around in a circle!” argued Tommy. “That
ain’t the way they run passages in mines!”

“I don’t care!” Sandy insisted. “We’ve been
turning to the left about all the time, and if you
leave it to me, we’ll presently come out in the
chamber where we heard the call of the pack!”

“That may be right,” admitted Tommy. “It
does seem as if we’d been turning to the left most of
the time. Besides,” he went on, “we’ve been walking
long enough to have reached the shaft three or
four times.”

“And yet,” argued Sandy, “we’ve been following
the line of the cord every step. It lies right in the
middle of the gangway here, and we’re going the
way it points all the time.”

This bit of reasoning seemed to give the boys fresh
courage, and they walked on, expecting every
moment to come in sight of the frame work which
surrounded the shaft. At length, after a long half
hour, Tommy stumbled over an obstruction lying in
a chamber which somehow seemed strangely familiar.
He lifted his foot and gave the obstruction a hearty
kick.

“That’s my Indian sign of the trail!” grunted
Sandy.

“For the love of Mike!” exclaimed Tommy.
“Have we been traveling all this time to come out
in this same old hole at last?”

“That’s what we have!” replied Sandy. “If we
had paid no attention to the string whatever and
followed the rails when we came to the main gang
way, we would have been home and in bed by this
time!”

“But we didn’t,” grinned Tommy. “We thought
we had a cinch on getting out by way of this cord
and so we followed that. I don’t see, though,” he
continued, “how we came back to this same old
chamber by following the cord. That looks queer to
me!”

“I’ll tell you how!” replied Sandy. “There’s
some gink been walking on ahead of us stringing the
cord out for us to follow!”

Tommy sat down on the bottom of the chamber
and wrinkled his freckled nose provokingly.

“We’re a couple of easy marks!” he laughed.

“Easy marks is no name for it!”

“Well, what’ll we do now to get out?” Tommy
asked. “First thing we know, it’ll be daylight, and
then Will and George’ll be calling out the police to
find us. We ought to get home before they wake
up.”

“I’m willing!” declared Sandy. “I’d like to be in
my little bed this minute! I’ve had about enough
of this foul air!”

The boys passed along until they came to the
second trail sign and then stopped. Tommy pointed
down to it with a hand which was not quite steady
and looked up into his chum’s face with frightened
eyes.

“That’s been moved!” he said.

“How do you know it’s been moved?”

“Because you had the side stone on the other
edge.”

“I don’t think I did!” argued Sandy.

The boys puzzled over the situation for a few
moments, and then proceeded down the chamber
looking for the tramway rails.

They passed from chamber to chamber and finally
came to a place where the slope was upward.

“I guess we’ve struck it at last!” Sandy exclaimed.

“But there are no rails here!” Tommy argued.

“Then we’re on the wrong track again,” admitted
Sandy.

He bent down to the rock with his searchlight and
pointed out evidences that the passage had once
been laid with rails.

“When they strip a chamber or a counter gangway,”
he said, “they take away the rails. It seems
that we are now in a part of the Labyrinth mine
which has been worked out.”

“I know what to do!” exclaimed Tommy. “I’ll
give the call of the Beaver Patrol and tell those ginks
who have been giving the call of the pack that we’re
lost! That ought to bring them out of their holes.”

The Beaver call was given time after time, but no
reply came.

“Say,” Tommy said after his patience had become
exhausted, “I believe it’s daylight. Look at your
watch. I left mine in the bed!”

“I left mine in bed, too,” answered Sandy. “I
know it is day, because I’m hungry.”

Chapter IV

A SENSATIONAL DISCOVERY

When Will awoke he began preparations for breakfast
before paying any attention whatever to his
chums, whom he believed to be sleeping quietly on
their cots. It was November, and quite chilly in the
apartment, so his next efforts were directed to
coaxing the electric coils into a cheery glow.

Presently George came tumbling out in his
pyjamas and sat down on a rickety chair to talk of
the adventures in prospect.

“I wonder if the Labyrinth mine is so much of a
labyrinth after all?” he asked. “It seems to me
that we might find our way through it without danger
of losing ourselves,” he continued with a yawn.

“It’s some labyrinth, I take it,” Will replied.

“Well, we can make chalk marks on the walls as
we move along,” suggested George. “Besides,” he
added, “we can string an electric wire through the
center gangway and turn on the lights.”

“There are probably electric lights there now,”
answered Will.

“Then there’s no danger of our becoming lost,”
George argued.

“I wish you’d go to the back of the room and tip
over those two cots,” grinned Will. “It’s the hardest
kind of work to get Tommy and Sandy to bed, but
when you do get them in bed once, it’s harder still to
get them out of it. Just tip the cots over and roll
’em out on the floor.”

George approached the two cots in a stealthy
manner and made ready to give Tommy and Sandy
the bump of their lives.

“Don’t break their necks!” advised Will.

As soon as George reached Tommy’s bunk he
stretched forth a hand for the purpose of tangling
the boy up in the bedclothing so that his fall to the
hard floor might be in a measure broken.

As he swung his hand over the cot, however, his
eyes widened and he called out to Will that the boys
were not in their cots.

There was a look of alarm as well as of annoyance
on each face as the lads thought over the situation.

“The little idiots!” exclaimed Will.

“That isn’t strong enough!” George corrected.

“There’s no knowing how long they’ve been gone,”
Will suggested. “The chances are that they went
away as soon as we went to sleep.”

“In that case, they’re in trouble!” George declared.

“In what kind of trouble?”

“The good Lord only knows!” replied George.
“Tommy and Sandy can get into more different
kinds of trouble in less time than any other boys on
the face of the earth. They’re the original lookers
for trouble!”

“Do you suppose they’ve got lost in the mine?”
asked Will.

“It may be worse than that!” cried George.
“They may have butted into some of the people the
caretaker indirectly referred to last night.”

“He did speak of strange noises and mysterious
lights, didn’t he?”

“He certainly did, and I’ve got a hunch that
Sandy and Tommy have butted into some hostile
interests.

“It does seem as if they would be back by this
time unless they were in trouble!”

The boys prepared an elaborate breakfast in the
hope that Tommy and Sandy, who would be sure
to be hungry, would return in time to partake of it.
A dozen times during the meal they walked back to
the shaft opening and looked anxiously down into the
dark bowels of the mine.

“Those fellows are always getting into trouble,”
Will said, rather crossly, as he stood looking down.
“They have a way of running into most of their
dangers at night, too. It was the same up on Lake
Superior; the same in the snake-haunted Everglades
of Florida; the same on the Rocky Mountains, and
the same in the Hudson Bay country.”

“They sure do keep things moving,” grinned
George.

“I think,” Will suggested after a time, “that we’d
better find Canfield and get his advice before we do
anything in the way of setting up a search. I hate
to admit that two members of our party got into a
scrape on the same night we struck the mine, but I
guess there’s no way out of it.”

While the boys talked together, the door opened
softly and the caretaker entered, accompanied by a
short, paunchy man with a very red face and eyes
which were black, small and suspicious. He was a
man well past middle age, but he seemed to be making
a bluff at thirty-five. His hair, which had
turned white at the temples, and his moustache were
both dyed black.

Canfield introduced the new-comers as the detective,
Joe Ventner, of New York, and the boys
greeted him courteously.

He accepted their proffered hands with an air of
condescension which was most exasperating. He
puffed out his chest, and at once began talking of
some of his alleged exploits in the secret service of
the government.

“How did you pass the night, boys?” asked the
caretaker.

“Slept like pigs!” replied Will with a laugh.

“Where are the others?” asked Canfield.

“They’re out getting a breath of fresh air, I
reckon,” answered George.

The boys did not take to the detective at all.
There was an air of insincerity about the man which
at once put them on their guard.

Had Canfield visited them alone, they would have
explained to him the exact situation. In the presence
of this detective, however, they decided to do
nothing of the kind.

“Now then,” the detective said after a moment’s
silence, “if you boys will outline the course you
intend to pursue in this matter, I think we can
manage to work together without our plans clashing.”

“We have talked the matter over during the
night,” Will replied, “and have decided to remain
here only long enough to obtain some clue as to the
direction taken by the boys in their departure.”

“Then you think they are not here?” asked the
detective.

“There is no reason why they should be here, is
there?” asked Will.

“I don’t know that there is,” relied Ventner.

“Can you imagine any reason for their wanting to
linger about the mine?” asked George.

“No,” was the reply. “It has always been my
opinion that the boys left the mine because they
feared arrest for some boyish offense committed in
some other part of the country, and that they are
now far away from this place.”

Both lads observed that the detective seemed
particularly pleased with the statement that they
proposed to abandon the search of the mine immediately.
Somehow, they caught the impression
that they would interfere with his plans if they remained.

“It might be well,” Ventner said, directly, “to
keep me posted as to any discoveries you may make.
We must work together, you know.”

“Certainly,” replied Will, speaking with a mental
reservation which did not include the giving up of
any information worth while.

“Well, then, I’ll be going,” the detective said,
strutting across the room, with his little round belly
protruding like that of an insect. “You can always
find me at the hotel down here, if I’m in this part of
the country. Just ask for me and I’ll show up.”

Canfield was turning to depart with the detective
when Will motioned to him to remain. The
caretaker turned back with a surprised look.

Will waited until the door had closed on the detective
before speaking. Even then, he went to the
door and glanced down the passage.

“Something exciting?” smiled the caretaker, noting
the boy’s caution.

“Yes,” Will answered, “there’s something exciting.
Tommy and Sandy disappeared during the
night.”

“Disappeared?” echoed the caretaker.

“Yes,” George cut in, “there was some talk of
their visiting the mine just before we went to bed,
and we are of the opinion that they went down the
shaft shortly after we fell asleep, and failed to find
their way to the surface again. We are considerably
alarmed.”

“I should think you would be!” replied the caretaker.
“In the first place, the Labyrinth mine
bears the right name. There are old workings below
which a stranger might follow for days without finding
the way out.”

“Then we’ll have to organize a search for the
boys,” George suggested.

“Besides,” continued Canfield, “there are things
going on in the mine which no one understands. I
have long believed that there are people living there
who have no right to take up such a residence.”

“I’m sorry you said anything to this detective
about our being here,” Will said, after this phase of
the case had been discussed.

“As a matter of fact,” the caretaker replied, “I
didn’t intend to say anything to Ventner about your
being here, but in some way he received an intimation
that you were about to take up the case and so
pumped the whole story out of me.”

“Perhaps he received his information from the
New York attorney,” suggested Will.

“I’m sure that he did not,” answered the caretaker.
“If the attorney had written to him in
regard to the matter at all, he would have posted
him so fully that when he cross-examined me such a
proceeding would have been unnecessary.”

“Has this man Ventner visited the mine often?”
asked George.

“Yes, quite frequently.”

“Does he always go alone?”

“Yes, he always goes alone,” was the answer.
“Once I accompanied him to the bottom of the shaft,
but there he suggested that we go in different directions,
and did not seem to want me anywhere
near him.”

“I don’t like the looks of the fellow, and that’s a
fact!” exclaimed Will. “He doesn’t look good to
me.”

After some discussion it was decided that the caretaker
would accompany the two boys to the bottom
of the shaft and direct them down gangways, which
they could follow without fear of losing their way,
and the illumination of which would be likely to be
observed by anyone wandering about the blind
chambers and passages of the mine.

When they reached the bottom of the shaft,
climbing down the ladders, as Tommy and Sandy
had done some hours before, they gathered in a little
group at the bottom while the caretaker gave them a
few general instructions regarding the general outlines
of the Labyrinth of tunnels, chambers and cross
passages which lay before them.

“Did any one come down after us?” asked Will
directly.

“No one,” was the reply. “Why do you ask?”

“Because,” Will answered, “there’s some one
skulking off down that passage, and it looks to me
like that bum detective!”

Chapter V

THE FLOODED MINE

“What makes you think it’s Ventner?” asked the
caretaker. “Did you see his face? I don’t think
he is here.”

“I didn’t see his face,” answered Will, “but I saw
the shape of his shoulders and the hang-dog look of
him.”

“You’re prejudiced against Ventner,” laughed
Canfield.

“I admit it!” replied Will. “He looks to me like a
snake in the grass. I don’t think anything he could
do would look good to me.”

“Now,” Canfield said, “perhaps we’d better be
mapping out a plan of campaign. Here are three
gangways leading in three different directions.
We’ll leave one of the lights burning at the shaft,
then we’ll each take a light and proceed into the
interior, making as much noise as we conveniently
can, and flashing the light into all the chambers and
cross headings we come to.”

“How long are these gangways?” asked Will.

“Somewhere near a half a mile straight ahead!”
was the answer.

The caretaker went away swinging his electric
searchlight, and Will and George pushed forward
in their respective passages.

After proceeding a short distance, George heard
Will calling to him.

“There’s some one just ahead of me in the gang-way!”
Will declared. “I think we ought to go together!”

“Do you think it’s that bum detective?” asked
George.

“I certainly do!”

“Well, we can go together if you like,” George
said. “We can’t cover quite as much ground in
that way, but I guess we can accomplish more in the
long run!”

The boys had proceeded only a short distance when
they heard Canfield calling to them. A moment
later they heard the caretaker’s steps ringing on the
hard floor of the gangway down which they were advancing.
He came up to them panting, in a moment.

“There’s something mighty queer about this
mine,” the caretaker declared. “It was punk dry
only two days ago, and now there are four or five
feet of water where the gangway I started to follow
dips down.

“And look there!” Will exclaimed holding his light
aloft and pointing, “you can see plenty of water
ahead! I guess all the gangways are taking a washing,
and the water seems to be rising, too!”

“Is there any way by which the mine could be
intentionally flooded?” asked George. “There may
be some one planning trouble for the owners.”

“There is only one way that I know of in which the
mine could be flooded intentionally,” replied the
caretaker. “There is a large drain, of course, in
what is known as the sump. Considerable water
runs off in that way, and the rest of the drippings
are taken out by the pumps. If this sump drainage
should become clogged, the mine, of course, would
become flooded though not to such an extent, unless
the pumps were kept constantly at work.”

“Then I guess you’d better set the pumps going,”
Will suggested. “We can’t get into the mine in its
present condition unless we swim.”

“Haven’t you got a boat?” asked George.

“Why, yes,” replied the caretaker. “There’s a
couple of boats somewhere in the mine. The operators
placed them here thinking they might come in
handy at some future time, but I haven’t any idea
where they are now. Still, I think they’re not far
away.”

“If you’ll go and set the pumps in motion,” Will
advised, “George and I’ll look around for the boats.
We may need them before the pumps get under
motion the way the water is pouring in now.”

“I guess Tommy and Sandy don’t come back because
they’re penned in by water,” George suggested,
as the boys began searching the vicinity of
the shaft for the boats.

“If they’re anywhere within hearing distance,
they ought to answer us when we called out, hadn’t
they?” asked Will.

“We haven’t tried that yet,” George answered.
“Suppose we let out a couple of yells!”

To think in this case was to act, and the boys did
let out a couple of yells which brought the caretaker
running back from the shaft.

The boys were listening for some answer to their
shouts when he arrived, and so they paid little attention
to his numerous questions.

“There is no time to lose,” Canfield went on.
“I’ll go to the top at once and call an engineer and a
couple of firemen. When you find the boat, take a
trip down the main gangway here and stick your
lights into all the cross-headings and chambers you
see. But, above all,” he continued, “don’t fail to
leave a light here at a shaft, and be careful that you
never pass out of sight of it.”

Canfield hastened away, climbing the ladders
two rungs at a time, and soon disappeared into the
little dot of light at the top.

The two boys searched patiently for the boat for
a long time, but did not succeed in discovering it.
At last, Will suggested that it might be in the mule
stable and thither they went.

The boat was there, in excellent condition, and
the boys soon had it swinging to and fro on the
surface of the water which now lay several feet deep
in the main gangway.

“Je-rusalem!” exclaimed George, taking the depth
of the water with an oar, “if the water is four feet
deep here, how deep must it be at the middle of
the dip?”

“About forty rods, I should think!” exaggerated
Will.

The boys left a large searchlight at the shaft,
so situated that it looked straight down the passage
they proposed following, and started away in the
boat. The flashlights illuminated only a small
portion of the underground place, but the boys
could see some distance straight ahead.

Once they ceased rowing to listen, believing that
they had heard calls from the darkness beyond.
The sound was not repeated, and they were about to
proceed when a sound which brought all their
nervous energy into full swing reached their ears.

It was the bumping of an oar or paddle against
the side of a boat. The blow echoed through the
cavern as sharply as a pistol shot might have done.
There could be no mistake in the cause.

“Now who’s in that other boat?”

“Somehow,” George grumbled in a whisper, “we
always have propositions like that put up to us!
There’s always a mystery in every trip we take!
We found one on Lake Superior, and one in the
Florida Everglades, and one at the top of the Rocky
mountains and one in the Hudson Bay wilderness.”

“Yes, and we solved them, too!” grinned Will.
“And we’re going to solve this one! You remember
about my seeing some one sneaking in here just ahead
of us, don’t you?”

“Yes,” was the answer. “You thought it was
that bum detective.”

“I think so yet,” replied Will.

“If it’s the detective,” asked George, “why didn’t
he give the alarm when he found that the mine was
being flooded. He might at least have done that
and saved the company a great deal of expense
and trouble.”

“Give it up,” replied Will. “I might ask you,”
he went on, “why he was rowing away into a flooded
mine which is supposed to be deserted.”

“And I’d have to give you the answer you gave
me,” George declared.

The boys could now hear the strokes of the oarsman
who was in the lead quite regularly and distinctly.
Now and then he turned into crossheadings
and chambers, as if to escape from their surveillance,
but they kept steadily on after him, not taking into
account the fact that they were leaving the light
they had set at the shaft far out of view.

“Perhaps we ought to turn back now,” George
proposed, in a short time, seeing that they came no
nearer to the boat in advance. “We left the main
gangway some time ago, and we ought not to get
too far away from it.”

Will turned and looked back, facing only an inky
blackness.

“We should have stuck to the main gangway,”
he said. “I don’t even remember when we left it!
Is it very far back?”

“Some distance,” answered George. “You see
we followed this other boat without thinking what
we were doing.”

“Perhaps, if we continue to follow the other boat,
it will lead us somewhere. The fellow rowing must
know something about the interior of the mine or he
probably wouldn’t be here!”

“I’ve been listening for a minute or more, trying
to catch sound of the fellow’s oars,” George went
on, “but there’s nothing doing. I guess he’s led
us into a blind chamber and slipped away!”

“We don’t seem to be lacking for excitement,”
Will suggested with a grin. “We’ve lost Tommy
and Sandy, and the machinery of the mine has been
interfered with, and the lower levels are filling with
water! Any old time we start out to do things,
there’s a general mixup!”

“Aw, quit growling and listen a minute,” suggested
George.

The boys listened only for a moment when the
sound George had heard was repeated. It was the
call of the Wolf pack!

Chapter VI

THE BEAVER CALL

“That’s Tommy!” exclaimed Will.

“I never knew that he belonged to the Wolf
Patrol!” George observed.

“He might give the call without belonging to the
Patrol!” urged Will.

The boys listened, but the sound was not repeated,
although they called out the names of their
chums and gave the Beaver call repeatedly.

“I guess it was a dream,” George suggested.

“Then it was the most vivid dream I ever had!”
Will declared.

They rowed about the chamber for some moments
searching for the source of the call, but to no purpose.

“Let’s go back to the shaft,” urged George.

“I’m agreeable,” answered Will. “The only
question now is whether we can find the shaft. The
water is so deep that all branches of the mine look
alike to me!”

In passing out of the chamber into another passage
the boys were obliged to stoop low in order to avoid
what is called a dip.

After passing under the dip so close to the ceiling,
so close that the boys were obliged to lie down in the
boat in order to protect their heads, they came to a
large chamber which seemed to be fairly dry save in
the center, where there was a depression of considerable
size.

“Nothing doing here!” Will exclaimed as he
flashed his searchlight around the place. “This
chamber looks as if there hadn’t been an ounce of
coal mined here for a hundred years.”

“Then let’s get out,” George proposed, “and make
our way back to the shaft if possible. If we can’t,
we’ll make noise enough to attract Canfield’s attention
and let him come and lead us out.”

“Here we go, then,” cried Will, giving the boat a
great push toward the dip. “We can’t get out any
too fast.”

The boat came up against a solid projection of
rock!

“I don’t seem to see any way out!” George exclaimed.

“Well, it’s there somewhere!” declared Will.

“I see it now!” cried George. “It’s under water!”

“Under water?” repeated Will.

“Yes, under water!” answered George. “If we don’t
get out of this hole before the pumps get to working
we’ll have to swim!”

Will turned his searchlight on the dip and saw
that it was now full clear to the down dropping roof.

“I guess we’ll have to swim,” he agreed.

“That black water doesn’t look good to me,”
George exclaimed with a little shudder. “It seems
to me that I can see snakes and alligators wiggling
in it from here. Looks worse to me than the swamps
of the Everglades! And there was a quart of snakes
to every pint of water down there!”

“But we got to swim just the same!” urged Will.
“In half an hour from now the air in this chamber
will be unbreathable. There is no vent at all, now
that the water fills the dip, and the coal gas is
naturally seeping in all the time.”

“That’s all right, too!” admitted George. “But
I’m not going to jump into that black water until
I have to. If a rope or something should twine
around my legs while I was in there, I’d drop dead
with fright! Besides,” he went on, “the chances are
that Canfield will get the pumps going before long
now.”

The boys waited for a long half hour, during which
time the water rose steadily. It seemed certain
that the mine was about to be flooded throughout
all the lower levels.

“Tommy and Sandy may have bumped into just
such a situation as this,” Will said, as he pushed the
boat from side to side in the hope of coming upon
some exit from the place.

“Serves ’em good and right!” exclaimed George.

Will chuckled to himself and held a wet hand
high up toward the roof of the chamber or passage.

“There’s a current of air here!” he said.

“Then we won’t smother to death!” George
grunted.

“And, look here,” Will continued, as the boat
bumped into a pyramid of shale which had been
thrown up to within a few inches of the roof, “some
one has been building this hill of refuse and using
it for a refuge!”

“It does look that way,” George agreed. “That
shows that at some time the water must have ascended
to the very top of the wall. We may have
to climb up there ourselves in order to keep from
getting our clothing soaked in that ink down there!”

The water rose higher and higher in the passage,
and it seemed to the boys that by this time most of
the lower gangways were entirely impassible.

“It doesn’t seem to me that the water in this
blooming old mine could rise any faster if the whole
Mississippi river were turned into it!” cried George
in a tone of disgust. “If Canfield doesn’t get his
pumps going before long, he’ll have a job here
that’ll take him all winter!”

“I presume he’s doing the best he can,” Will
argued. “For all we know, the boilers as well as
the electric motors may have been tampered with.
That would be just our luck!”

“I wonder what’s become of that bum detective?”
asked George after a short silence. “We heard him
rowing along in front of us one minute, and the next
minute there wasn’t a single sound to indicate that
there was another boat in the mine.”

“As soon as I get out of this,” Will stated, “I’m
going to make it my business to find out whether
that detective is regularly employed on this case.
He looks to me like a crook!”

It was dreary waiting there in the sealed-up
chamber, and the boys found themselves dropping
into long intervals of silence while they listened for
the gurgle of the water which would indicate that
the great pumps had been set in motion.

During one of those intervals of silence, they
heard sounds which brought them to their feet in
great excitement. Almost unable to believe his
ears, Will turned to George with a question on his
lips:

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

“Of course I did!”

“I did, too, but I thought I must be dreaming.”

“No dream about that!” replied George. “That’s
the call of the Beaver Patrol!”

“And that means that Tommy and Sandy are
not far away!”

“We heard the call of the Wolf Patrol not long
ago,” suggested George. “I wonder if this blooming
old mine is chock full of Boy Scouts of assorted
sizes. There can’t be too many here to please me!”

The boys returned the Beaver call but no answer
came. At times they thought they heard whispers
coming from the dark reaches of the cavern, but
they were not quite certain.

“There may be real Beavers in here for all we
know!” suggested Will.

“That’s all you know about it!” chuckled George.
“Beavers only operate in running water.”

“Well, isn’t that water out there running?” asked
Will.

“No jokes now!” replied George. “I’ve got all
I can endure now without standing for any of your
alleged witticisms!”

While the boys sat in the boat, occasionally moving
it from side to side, a shaft of light appeared directly
above the point where the shale had been heaped
up. It moved swiftly about for an instant and then
dropped out of view. It was a moment before
either boy spoke.

“That’s some of Tommy’s foolishness!” Will
declared.

George repeated the Beaver call several times,
but no answer came.

“That’s a searchlight, anyway!” insisted Will.
“And I don’t believe these ginks in the mines have
electric searchlights to lug around with them!”

Will unshipped an oar and struck the water with
the flat of the blade several times, exerting his whole
strength.

“Keep it up!” advised George. “That sounds
exactly like a beaver’s tail connecting with the
surface of a stream!”

“Yes, keep it up!” cried a voice out of the darkness.
“Keep it up, and perhaps some beaver’ll
come along and build a dam to get you out of that
mess you’re in! You’re always getting into trouble,
you two!”

“You’ve got your nerve with you!” exclaimed
Will, half-angrily. “Here you go out in the night
and get lost, and we come out after you, and the
mine gets flooded, and we get tied up between the
the solid wall and a bend in the passage, and then
you blame us for getting into trouble!”

“Can you climb?” chuckled Tommy, throwing
the rays of his searchlight on the boat. “If you can,
just mount up on that pile of shale and work your
way through the opening between the two levels.
This might have been used as a sort of an air hole
a few hundred years ago,” he went on, “but I’ll bet
that not one out of a hundred of the miners of today
know that there is an opening here!”

Leaving the boat, the boys mounted the pile of
shale and were soon making their way up the rugged
face of the shaft in the direction of the level, which
ran along above the one now being flooded.

“Can you find your way out of this dump, now?”
asked Will as the boys stood with their chums at the
end of a long passage.

Chapter VII

A TREACHEROUS FOE

“There seems to be fewer twists and turns in this
level than on the one below it,” Tommy explained,
“and I guess we can find our way out readily enough.
If we don’t,” he went on, “I shall be obliged to eat
a ton or two of coal to keep from starving to death.”

“Serves you right!” declared Will. “You had
no business getting up in the middle of the night
and wandering off into the mine!”

“What did you do?” demanded Tommy.

“We waited until morning, and then enlisted the
services of the caretaker,” replied Will. “So far
as I can remember, this is about the nine hundredth
relief expedition we’ve been out on in search of you
boys!”

“Seems to me,” Tommy chuckled, “that you’re
the lads that were in need of the relief expedition!
We found you boxed up in a chamber in a boat.”

“But we wouldn’t have been in any such mess if
we hadn’t started out to look you up!” George declared.

“We should have been back before you got out of
bed this morning, if some one hadn’t cut our string,”
replied Sandy. “We had a cinch on getting out,
but some geezer led us a fool chase by cutting our
cord and steering us around in a circle.”

“Did you see any one?” asked Will.

“Not a soul!” was the reply. “But there’s some
one in here, just the same. We heard the call of
the Wolf Patrol a long time ago and we’ve heard it
several times since.”

“What do you mean by some one cutting your
string?” asked George.

“Why,” replied Sandy, “we tied the loose end of
a ball of twine to one of the shaft timbers and unwound
the ball as we moved along, expecting to
follow it back when we wanted to get out.”

“How do you know some one cut it?” asked Will.

“Perhaps you broke it,” George suggested.

Sandy took a piece of the cord from his pocket
and passed it over to George with a sly chuckle.

“See if you can break that!” he said.

George tried his best to break the string, but it
remained firm under all his strength.

The boys now fell into a discussion of the ways and
means of getting out of the mine.

“I believe,” Sandy exclaimed, “that if we follow
the current of air which the rising water is forcing
out of this old shaft, we will come to the entrance.
As you all know, a current of air takes the shortest
way to any given point, and this one ought to blow
straight toward the shaft.”

“Great head, that, little boy!” laughed Tommy.

After proceeding some distance the steady thud,
thud of the pumping machinery was heard, and the
boys understood that the efforts of the caretaker
were at last bringing results. The sounds also aided
them in direction, and in a short time they stood at
the shaft on the second level.

When they came out to the timber work, Will, who
was in the lead, motioned to the others to remain
in the background.

“What’s doing now?” whispered Sandy.

“There’s a man working on the ladders,” explained
Will in a low whisper. “I can’t see him yet,
but I can hear the sound of a saw.”

“He may be cutting the rungs,” suggested
Tommy.

“That’s the notion I had,” replied Will. “Suppose
we all get around behind the air shaft and wait
until we can find out what he is up to. It may be
that bum detective, for all we know.”

“What would he be doing there?” questioned
Sandy.

“Sawing the rungs!” whispered Will. “He
wouldn’t cut them down, of course, but he might
saw them so that they would break under our weight
and give us a drop of a couple of hundred feet.”

“It doesn’t seem as if any human being would do
a thing like that!” cried George. “It would be a
wicked thing to do!”

While the boys whispered together, the sound of
sawing continued. The man engaged at the task was
evidently unfamiliar with such work, for they heard
him puffing and blowing as the saw cut through the
wood.

“He’s cutting the rungs, all right!” Will said in
a moment. “And that cuts off our escape until
the cables can be put in motion and the cages started.
I wish I had him by the neck!”

“We’ll get him by the neck, all right, before many
days,” Sandy cut in, “if we can only get a sight of
him so as to be sure of his identity.”

Presently the man ceased working, and they heard
him ascending the ladders, step by step. In a moment
the saw which he had been using dropped from
his hands and clattered to the bottom of the shaft.

Then they heard him springing swiftly forward, and
directly they knew that he had reached the top.
The boys all looked disgusted.

“And we never caught sight of him!” exclaimed
Tommy.

Will now walked around to the front of the shaft
and looked down. The saw which had been used
lay shining on the lower level.

“I’m going down after that!” he said in a moment.

“Yes, you are!” whispered Tommy.

“Got to have it!” insisted Will.

“Well, go on and get it, then,” laughed Sandy.
“You’ve got to show me!”

“I don’t think he cut the rungs between this level
and the next one,” George interposed. “It may
be safe to use the lower ladders.”

“I can soon find out!” Will declared.

The cutting had been done between the second
level and the top. The ladders below seemed perfectly
safe. After testing them thoroughly, Will
trusted himself on one of the rungs and let himself
down slowly, bearing as much weight as was possible
on the standards.

He was at the bottom in a moment, and in another
moment stood by the side of his chums with the saw
in his hand.

“I don’t think that’s so very much!” Tommy exclaimed.

“Right here, then,” Will explained, “is where you
get your little Sherlock Holmes lesson! This is a new
saw, as you all see. It probably never was used before.
Now the man who did the cutting bought this at
some nearby store. Don’t you see what it
means?”

“That’s a fact!” cried Tommy. “We can find
out who bought the saw, and so discover the gink
who tried to commit murder by sawing the ladders.”

“And look here,” Will went on, “do you see these
threads hanging to the teeth of the saw? Do you
see the color?”

“Blue!” replied the boys in a breath.

“That’s right, blue. Now, what sort of a suit did
the detective wear this morning? It was blue,
wasn’t it?”

“Sure it was!” replied George. “A blue serge!
I noticed it particularly because it wasn’t much of a
fit.”

“Well, these are blue serge threads!” commented
Will.

“That’s right, too,” admitted Sandy.

While the boys still stood at the second level they
heard some one moving down from the top. Will
rushed around to the ladder and looked up.

He could not see the face of the man who was
climbing down, but he could see that he did not wear
a blue serge suit.

In a moment he called out to him, asking some
trivial question regarding the action of the pumps.
When the man looked down he saw that it was
Canfield. The caretaker seemed surprised at finding
the boys at the second level. He kept on descending.

“Wait!” Will called. “Stop where you are!”

“But I’ve got to find out what’s the matter with
the machinery at the bottom,” the caretaker called
out. “There’s something wrong there!”

“Then you’d better take long steps,” replied
Will, “for if you put any weight on those rungs,
you’re likely to land at the bottom of the shaft.
The rungs have been cut!”

“I can’t believe that!” replied Canfield.

“Suppose you look and see!”

The caretaker advanced cautiously downward until
he came to where a fine line of sawdust lay on one
of the rungs.

“Do you know who did this?” he asked.

“We think we do,” replied Will, “but this isn’t
any time for long stories. The first thing for us to
do is to get back into the breaker and cook Tommy
and Sandy three or four breakfasts apiece!”

“So you found them, did you?” asked Canfield.

“No; we found them,” shouted Tommy.

“Well, how’re you going to get out?” asked the
caretaker.

“Get a rope,” directed Will, “and throw it over the
sound rung lowest down, and we’ll climb up until
we can trust our weight on the ladder.”

This plan was followed, and in a short time the
boys all stood, hungry and tired, in their room in
the breaker. Tommy made an instantaneous dive
for the provisions which had been brought in the
night before.

“Nice old time we’ve had!” he exclaimed, with
his mouth full of pork and beans. “I guess we’re
some Boy Scouts after all!”

“I’m going to tie you up tonight!” Will declared.

While the boys talked and ate the caretaker
darted to the door leading to the passage which
ended at the shaft.

He returned in a moment looking both angry and
frightened.

“The pumps have stopped!” he said. “The
mine will probably be flooded before tomorrow
morning! The very devil seems to have taken full
charge here today. I never saw anything like it!”

“There are boys in the mine who will be drowned!”
exclaimed Tommy.

“I’m not so sure of that!” answered Canfield.
“It was only a suggestion on my part that the boys
we are in search of have taken refuge under ground.
I think I must have been mistaken!”

“Do you know whether these breaker boys belonged
to the Boy Scouts or not?” asked Will.
“Did you ever see any medals or badges on their
clothing which told of Boy Scout experiences?”

“Sure they belong to the Boy Scouts!” declared
the caretaker, “and that is the very reason why I
sent for Boy Scouts to help find them.”

“What Patrol did they belong to?” asked Will.

“If you had heard them howling like wolves
around the breaker night after night,” was the reply,
“you wouldn’t ask what patrol they belonged to!”

“Then they are in the mine!” shouted Tommy.
“We all heard the call of the pack, but the funny
thing is that they wouldn’t show themselves.”

Chapter VIII

“THEY WENT UP IN THE AIR!”

“There’s something funny-about those boys!”
exclaimed Canfield. “They seemed to be merry-hearted
fellows, just a little bit full of mischief, but
for some reason they never mixed with the others
much.”

“Where did they come from when they came
here?” asked Will.

“The information in the letters I received from
the attorney in charge of the case is that they came
here from New York, not directly but by some roundabout
way.”

“Did this attorney ever inform you why he wanted
the boys found?” asked Tommy. “Are we all
working in the dark?”

“He never told me why he wanted the boys found.
For all I know, they may be wanted for some crime,
or they may be heirs to an immense property. My
instructions are to find them. That’s all!”

“Where did these boys lodge?” asked Will.

“They didn’t have any regular room,” was the
reply. “They slept in the breaker whenever the
watchman would permit them to do so, and when
he wouldn’t, they threw stones at him and slept in
the railroad yard somewhere. But the strangest
part of the whole business is the way they disappeared
from sight.”

“You didn’t tell us about that!” exclaimed Sandy.

“I meant to,” the caretaker answered. “The
last seen of them here they were at work on the
breaker. It was somewhere near the middle of the
afternoon, and the cracker boss had been particularly
ugly. The two boys were often caught whispering
together, and more than once the cracker
boss had launched such trifles as half pound blocks
of shale at them. I happened to be on the outside
just about that time.”

“The boys didn’t go up in the air, did they?”
asked Sandy with a chuckle. “They haven’t got
wings, have they?”

“To all intents and purposes, they went up into
the air!” answered the caretaker. “One moment
they were on the breaker sorting slate and stuff of
that kind out of the stream of coal which was pouring
down upon them, and the next moment they were
nowhere in sight!”

“Had any strangers been seen talking with them?”

“Now you come to a point that I should have
mentioned before!” replied the caretaker. “Two
days before they left a strange boy came to the
mine and went to work on the breaker. He was
an unusually well-mannered, well-dressed young
fellow, and so the breaker boys called him a dude.
He resented this, of course, and there was a fight
at the first quitting time. These two boys, Jimmie
and Dick, stood by the new lad, and gave three or
four of the tough little chaps who work on the
breaker a good beating up.”

“Now we’ve got hold of something!” exclaimed
Will. “Were these three boys together much after
that?”

“No,” was the reply. “The new boy thanked
Jimmie and Dick for helping him through his scrape,
and that was about all. They might have talked
together for five minutes that night, but they were
never seen, in each other’s company again so far as
I know.”

“How long did this new boy stay here?” asked
George.

“He quit the next day.”

“He didn’t go up in a pillar of fire, did he?”
grinned Sandy.

“No, he walked up to the office and asked if he
could get his pay for the time he had worked. The
boss told him he’d have to wait until Saturday
night, and he turned up his nose and walked out.”

“And where did he go?” asked George.

“He said he was going down the river in a boat,”
answered the caretaker. “He bought an old boat,
stocked it with quite a supply of provisions, and
started on his way. The next day the boat was
found bottom side up on a bar, and the lad’s hat
lay on the bank not far away”.

“Do you think he was drowned?” asked Sandy.

“It would seem so.”

“Drowned nothing!” exclaimed Tommy. “He
sneaked those provisions into the mine under cover
of the darkness, and the three little rascals are feeding
on them yet. You can see the end of that without
a telescope!”

“Now, smarty!” exclaimed George. “You’ve
told us where the boys went, and where the provisions
landed, and all that, now tell us why these
kids hid themselves in the mine. And while you are
about it, you may as well tell why they gave the
Wolf call and refused to reply.”

“This story,” replied Tommy with a grin, “is
not a novelette, complete in one number. It’s a
serial story, and will be continued in our next issue.
What did you say about the pumps stopping, Mr.
Canfield?”

“They’ve stopped, all right!” the caretaker replied.

“Are you going to let the ginks flood the mine?”
asked Sandy.

“While I was out a few moments ago,” Canfield
explained, “I notified one of the clerks in the company’s
office to send up a gang of men to repair the
machinery. They ought to be here by this time.”

“How long will it take to repair the pump?”
asked Tommy.

“It may take an hour and it may take twenty-four.”

“In the meantime,” Tommy continued, “do you
think you could send one of the county officers out
to round up this bum detective?”

“You mean that you want him watched?” asked
Canfield.

“Sure!” answered Tommy. “He sawed the
rungs in the shaft, didn’t he? He could get ten
years for that!”

“All right,” replied Canfield. “I’ll send word
out and have him arrested if you are positive that he
is the man that did the cutting.”

“We are positive that he’s the man,” replied Will,
“but it’ll spoil everything if you have him arrested.
We want to give him a free hand for a time, and see
what he will do. He’s a crook, and he’s bound to
show it! And another thing,” the boy went on,
“we don’t want anyone to know that he is under
suspicion. We just want him watched.”

“You’re handling the case,” smiled Canfield,
“and I’ll take any steps you advise. I can’t tell
you how sorry I am that I brought the detective in
here this morning!”

“Well,” Will said, “we put up a bluff about getting
out of town and perhaps we can make that stick.
We can take a train out and come back in on a
lonely freight, and get into the mine without his
knowing anything about it. The mine is the best
place to work from, anyway!”

“That’s why I wanted to know how soon the mine
could be pumped out!” stated Tommy. “I don’t
care about wading around in a mess of water that’s
blacker than a stack of black cats.”

“I think I can have the mine fairly dry by the
time you boys get out of town and back again!”
laughed Canfield.

“Well,” Tommy said, “then you’d better get a
couple of dry-goods boxes and fill them full of good
things to eat, and drop ’em down to the first level.
Perhaps you know of a cosy little chamber there
where we can set up housekeeping.”

“I know just the place,” said the caretaker.
“To the left of the old tool house there’s a room
where odd articles of every description have been
stored for any number of years. The blacksmith
and the fire-boss used to go there to smoke and tell
stores, if I remember right.”

“Does anyone ever go there now?” asked Will.

“Not that I know of,” was the reply.

“Then we’ll drop down there some time towards
morning,” Will decided. “And in the meantime,”
he added, with a wink at his chums, “we’ll be looking
for a boy tramp out in the railroad yards.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked the caretaker.

“Oh, I’ve just got an idea,” replied Will, “that
there’s a kid hanging around this part of the country
whom we ought to interview.”

“But I don’t understand.”

“You wait until we get hold of him, and you’ll
understand all right!” laughed Will. “We just
need that boy!”

“But how do you know there is such a boy?”
urged the caretaker.

“He gets it out of a dream book!” Tommy
chuckled.

“Do you mean to say that there is some go-between
between the boys who may or may not be in
the mine and some persons outside who are interested
in them?” asked the caretaker.

“I didn’t say anything of the kind!” replied Will.

“There are times,” Tommy explained to Canfield,
“when the gift of frank speech is taken away from
Will, so you mustn’t blame him for not answering.
He’ll tell you all about it when the time comes.”

The caretaker went away with a puzzled look on
his honest face.

Chapter IX

WHO DISCOVERED THE LEAK?

“You’ve got to explain to me,” George laughed,
as the caretaker left the room, and the boys began
picking up their clothing, preparatory to the alleged
journey. “I can’t understand what you mean by
saying that you’ll watch out for a boy tramp in the
railroad yards.”

“It’s a sure thing, isn’t it?” Will asked, “that
the boys we are in search of are in the mine? We
don’t know what they’re in there for. They may be
hiding there because of some fool notion they have
in their heads, or they may have been sent here for
some definite purpose.”

“You bet they’ve been sent here for some definite
purpose,” George replied. “They never came here
to work on the breaker without having some well-defined
motive. Boys answering to their description
don’t accept such jobs as they accepted here!”

“Well, the boys are in the mine,” Will continued.
“As stated, we don’t know what they’re there for,
but we know they’re there. Now, this third boy
comes to the mine and works just long enough to
get in touch with the other two. Then he disappears.”

“Buys a lot of provisions and goes down the river
to leave his hat on the bank!” laughed Tommy. “I
guess that was a pretty poor imitation of a suicide or
a drowning accident, either!”

“But this boy didn’t get to be intimate with the
two breaker boys,” contended George. “He talked
with them about two minutes after the fight, according
to Canfield, but paid no further attention to
them after that. If he had any secret understanding
with them, he must have done a whole lot of
talking in a mighty short space of time.”

“The right kind of a boy can say a good deal in a
minute and half!” laughed Tommy. “But suppose
we let Will go on and explanation us about that boy
tramp in the railroad yards. I think I know what
he’s getting at, but I’m not quite certain. Go on,
Will, it’s up to you.”

“In order to make the connection,” laughed Will.
“I’ll state for the third time that we know that the
boys are in the mine. It may also be well to state,
once more, that we are reasonably certain that this
third boy came to the mine for the specific purpose
of communicating with the other two. Now, this
boy didn’t drop into the river. He dropped the
provisions he bought for the boat into the coal
mine, and left them there for the consumption of the
two boys inside. That’s reasonable, isn’ it?”

“Fine deduction, as Sherlock Holmes would say
to Watson!” laughed George.

“But this third boy,” Will went on, “doesn’t go
into the mine. He stays outside to serve as a
means of communication between the boys who are
hiding in the mine and some interested person or
persons on the outside. That’s perfectly clear,
isn’t it?”

“That’ll do very well for a theory,” replied
George.

“I’ll go you a plate of cookies,” argued Sandy,
“that Will is right, and that this third boy is hanging
around taking messages from the two boys in the
mine and also to the two boys in the mine.”

“Didn’t I say it was all right for a theory?”
chuckled George.

“Now, the point is this,” Will continued. “What
are those boys in the mine for? What do they want
there? Why didn’t they answer our Boy Scout
challenge when we replied to their call of the pack?”

“If you don’t ask so many questions, you won’t
get so many negative answers,” Sandy advised.
“We’re here to find the boys, and I don’t see that
it makes any difference to us what they’re in there
for.”

“But we’ve found the boys now,” contended
Tommy. “We haven’t got our hands on them yet,
of course, but we know they’re in there, and we
know it’s only a question of time when we get hold of
them.”

“Well,” Will insisted, “I’m going to find a motive
before I quit the case. I’m going to know who
sent those boys here, and all about it, before I make
any report to Mr. Horton.”

“Go as far as you like,” laughed Tommy. “My
bump of curiosity is growing half an inch a day, and
will continue to spread out until I find out exactly
what those boys are doing burrowing in a deserted
mine.”

“Now, we’ll get back to the point we started
from,” Will explained. “This boy who is undoubtedly
doing duty outside the mine in the
interests of the persons who sent the two boys in,
furnishes the clue to the whole situation! When
we find him, and find out what he’s up to, and
trace any communications he may make back to
their original source, we’ll have the whole case tied
up tight!”

“That’s right!” declared Tommy. “We’ll have
the case tied up tight if we succeed in getting hold
of this third boy.”

“Oh, go on!” laughed Sandy. “We’ll be picking
third boys and fourth boys and fifth boys out of the
air, first thing you know. We never went away on
a Boy Scout expedition yet that we didn’t find all
manner of kids hanging around on purpose to be
discovered. We found them on Old Superior; and
in the Everglades; and on the Great Continental
Divide; and up in the Hudson Bay country, we began
to think we had stumbled on the center of
population so far as Boy Scouts were concerned!”

“There’s just one thing that’s likely to make us
trouble,” Will resumed. “And that is the fact that
Canfield very foolishly slopped over to Ventner
when explaining the purpose of our visit here. That
bum detective knows now that we’re here to search
the mine. Of course he might have received, as
Canfield says, the most of his information from outside
sources, but the caretaker should have thrown
him off the track instead of telling him exactly what
our mission here was.”

“But Ventner came here to search for the boys
himself!” George broke in. “At least, he says that
he did.”

“There’s a mystery about the whole matter,”
Sandy declared, “and I’d like to help clear it up
from beginning to end!”

“We’re likely to have a chance!” laughed Tommy.

“What are we going to do all the afternoon?”
George asked.

“Wander around town,” smiled Will, “and find
out about the evening train, and ask fool questions
about the pumps and the mine, and laugh at the
idea of anybody living in there. That’ll give Ventner
the idea that we’re going for good, I reckon. He’s
a pretty bum skate to pose as a detective!”

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do most of the
afternoon!” Tommy declared. “I’m going to the
hay! I never felt so bunged up for want of sleep
in my innocent life.”

“Haven’t you forgotten something?” asked Sandy.

“Sure!” shouted Tommy. “I’m forgetting to
eat!”

“And you’re forgetting something else!” insisted
Sandy.

“Nix on the forget!” declared Tommy. “When
I forget my eatings and sleepings, the world will
come to an end!”

“You forgot to read a chapter in your dream
book!” said Sandy.

“Never you mind that dream book,” Tommy replied.
“Whenever you want to find the answer to
any puzzle, you look in that dream book!”

After eating another hearty meal the boys, having
already packed their wardrobes, locked the door of
their room and addressed themselves to slumber.

They were awakened about five o’clock by a loud
knocking on the door, and presently they heard the
voice of Canfield calling to them.

“Wake up, boys!” he cried. “I have good news
for you!”

“All right, let her go!” shouted Tommy.

“The pumps are working, and the water is lowering
in the mine!”

“That’s nice!” laughed Sandy.

“And we’ve found out what caused the sudden
flooding,” the caretaker went on. “It seems that
a partition, or wall, between the Labyrinth and the
Mixer mines unaccountably gave way. The Mixer
mine has been flooded for a long time and, as it lies
above the level of the Labyrinth, the water naturally
flowed into our mine as soon as the wall was down.”

“But what caused the partition to fall?” asked
Will, opening the door for the admission of the
caretaker.

“No one knows!” was the answer.

“If you look about a little,” Tommy suggested,
“I think you’ll find traces of dynamite. Who discovered
the break in the dividing wall?”

“A gang under the leadership of Ventner, the
detective!” was the reply.

The caretaker was very much surprised and not
a little annoyed at the effect his answer had upon the
four boys.

“I don’t see anything humorous about that!”
he said as the lads threw themselves down on the
bunks and roared with laughter.

“It looks funny to me!” Tommy replied. “If
we had never showed up here, the mine wouldn’t
have been flooded. As soon as we start away or
promise to leave the district, which amounts to the
same thing, this cheap skate of a detective finds
the break, and all is well again!”

“Why, you don’t think that he had anything to
do with the trouble at the mine, do you?” questioned
the caretaker.

“Oh, of course not!” replied Sandy. “Ventner
had nothing to do with cutting the ladder! That
fellow will land in state’s prison if he keeps on trying
to murder boys by sawing ladder rungs!”

“I had forgotten that,” said Canfield.

“Well, don’t forget that this man Ventner is playing
the chief villain’s role in this drama!” Tommy advised.
“And another thing you mustn’t forget,”
the boy continued, “is that you’re not to say a word
to him that will inform him that he is suspected.”

“I think I can remember that!” replied the caretaker.

The boys prepared a hasty supper and then, suit
cases in hand, started for the little railway station.
There they inquired about the arrival and departure
of trains, bought tickets, and made themselves as
conspicuous as possible about the depot.

“Keep your eye out for the third boy,” George
chuckled, as the lads walked up and down the platform.

“Don’t get excited about the third boy,” Will
replied. “We’ll find him when the right time
comes!”

“There’s Ventner!” exclaimed Tommy as the
detective came rushing down the platform. “Of
course the good, kind gentleman would want to
bid us farewell!”

“I’d like to crack him over the coco!” exclaimed
Sandy.

“I’ll bet he’s got some kind of a fake story to
tell,” suggested Will. “He looks like a man who
had been working his imagination overtime!”

“News of the two boys!” shouted the detective
as he came up smiling.

Chapter X

THE BOY IN THE “EMPTY”

“Didn’t I tell you,” whispered Will, “that he is
there with a product of his imagination? If you
leave it to him, the two boys we’re in search of are
somewhere on the Pacific slope!”

“He must think we’re a lot of suckers to take in
any story he’ll tell!” whispered Tommy. “A person
that couldn’t get next to his game ought to be locked
Up in the foolish house!”

“I’ve just heard from a railway brakeman,”
Ventner said, rushing up to the boys with an air
of importance, “that the two lads you are in search
of were seen leaving a box car at a little station in
Ohio. I don’t just recall the name of the station
now, but I can find it by looking on the map! It
seems the lads left here on the night following their
departure from the breaker, and stole their passage
to this little town I’m telling you about.”

“Good thing you came to the depot,” declared
Will. “We should have been out of town in ten
minutes more!”

“Where is this town?” asked George, thinking
it best to show great interest in the statement made
by the detective.

“It’s a little place on the Lake Erie & Western
road!” was the answer.

The detective took a railroad folder from his
pocket and consulted a map. It seemed to take him
a long time to decide upon a place, but he finally
spread the map out against the wall of the station and
laid his finger on a point on the Lake Erie & Western
railroad.

“Nankin is the name of the place. Strange I
should have forgotten the name of the place. They
were put out of the car at Nankin, and are believed
to have started down the railroad right of way on
foot.”

“But you said they were seen leaving the car
at Nankin!” Tommy cut in. “Now you say they
were put out of the car!”

“Well, they were chased out of the car, and that
covers both statements,” replied the detective somewhat
nervously.

“Thank you very much for the information!”
Will exclaimed as the train the boys were to take
came rolling into the station. “The pointer is
undoubtedly a good one, and we’ll take a look at
the country about Nankin.”

There was a crossing not more than six miles
from the station where the boys had taken the train,
and they were all ready to jump when the engineer
slowed down and whistled his note of warning. It
was quite dark, although stars were showing in a
sky plentifully scattered over with clouds and, as
the boys dropped down out of the illumination of
the windows as soon as they struck the ground,
they were not seen to leave the train by any of the
passengers.

In a moment the train rushed on, leaving the four
standing on the roadbed looking disconsolately in
the direction of the town.

“Now for a good long hike!” exclaimed Tommy.

“It’s for your own good!” laughed Sandy.

“I can always tell when anything’s for my own
good,” Tommy contended.

“You don’t look it!” chuckled Sandy.

“When anything’s for my own good,” the boy
continued, “it’s always disagreeable! It makes me
think of a story I read once where the man complained
that everything he ever wanted in this world
was either expensive, indigestible or immoral.”

“Well, get on the hike!” laughed George. “You
can stand here and moralize till the cows come home,
and it won’t move you half an inch in the direction
of the mine!”

“And look here,” Will exclaimed as the boys
started up the grade, “when we get within sight of
the lights of the station, we must scatter and keep
our traps closed! We can all make for the mine by
different routes. Ventner thinks we are out of town
now, and the chances are that he’ll be plugging
around trying to accomplish some purpose known
only to himself. For my part I don’t believe he is
employed on the same case we are! He’s working
here for some outside parties!”

“That’s the way it strikes me!” George agreed.
“If the detective had been honestly trying to assist
us, the mine wouldn’t have been flooded, the pumps
wouldn’t have broken down, and the electric motors
would have been found in excellent working order.”

“Did you notice the suit he had on when he stood
talking with us at the station?” asked Will. “That
was a blue serge suit, wasn’t it?”

“It surely was!” Tommy declared, quick to catch
the point. “And there was a tear down the front
of it which looked as if it had been made by the
scraping of a saw! I guess if you’ll match the
shreds we found on the saw with the breaks in that
coat front you’ll find where the saw got in its work,
all right!”

“And there was a cut on his hand, too!” Sandy
observed. “Looked like he had bounced the saw
off one of the rungs on top of a finger.”

“Oh, he’s a clever little boy all right!” Tommy cut
in. “But he forgot to leave his brass band at home
when he went out to cut into that ladder! If he
does all his work the way he did that job, he’ll be
sitting in some nice, quiet state’s prison before he’s
six months older.”

When the boys came within a quarter of a mile
of the station lights, they parted, Will and George
turning off from the right of way and Sandy and
Tommy keeping on for half a dozen rods. When
the four boys were finally clear of the tracks they
were walking perhaps twenty rods apart, and at
right angles with the right of way.

“Now, as we approach the mine,” Will cautioned
his companion, “keep your eye out for Ventner
and this third boy. They are both likely to be
chasing around in the darkness.”

The route to the mine taken by Tommy and his
chum crossed a network of tracks, led up to the
weigh-house and so on into the breaker. As they
came to a line of empty cars standing on a spur they
heard a movement in one of the empties and crouched
down to listen.

“There’s some one in there!” declared Tommy.

“Some old bum, probably!”

This from Sandy who had recently bumped his
shins on a pile of ties and was not in a very pleasant
humor.

“It may be the boy we’re looking for!” urged
Tommy.

Sandy sat down on the end of a tie and rubbed his
bruised shin vigorously, muttering and protesting
against railroad yards in general and this one in
particular as he did so.

Tommy made his way under the empty and sat
listening, his ear almost against the bottom of the
car. Presently he heard a movement above and
then it seemed to him that something of considerable
weight was being dragged across the floor. This
was followed in a moment by a slight groan, and thea
a shadowy figure leaped from the open side door and
started away in the darkness.

Now Sandy had been warned to hang onto the
third boy like grim death if he caught sight of him.
He saw this figure bounce out of the car and start
away. Therefore, he promptly reached out a foot
and tripped the unknown to the ground.

He fell with a grunt of anger and pain and lay
rolling on the cinders which lined the roadbed for
a moment without speaking. In the meantime,
Tommy had crawled out from under the car and
stood ready to sieze any second person who might
make his appearance.

Almost immediately a second body came bouncing
out of the empty.

Instead of starting away on a run, however, the
second person stopped where Sandy stood beside
the wiggling figure and looked down upon it.

“Hand him one!” he said in a boy’s voice.

“Who is it?” asked Sandy.

“Don’t know!” was the reply.

“What was he doing to you?”

“He was trying to rob me!”

“I don’t think a man would get rich robbing
people who ride in empties!” laughed Sandy. “I
shouldn’t think their bank rolls would make much
of a hit with a bold, bad highwayman!”

“There’s men riding the rods,” was the reply,
“who would kill a boy for a dime! If I wasn’t
opposed to cruelty to animals, I’d give this fellow
a beating up right now. He tried to drag me from
the car by the leg and nearly broke my ankle!”

“I heard him dragging you across the floor!”
Tommy said, coming up to where the two boys
stood. “Can you see who it is?” he added.

“He’s just a tramp!” the other replied. “I saw
him sneaking around the empties just before dark.”

“Why were you sleeping in an empty?” asked
Sandy.

“Because I like plenty of fresh air!” replied the
boy with a chuckle.

While the boys talked the tramp arose and sneaked
away, limping over the ties as if tickled to death to
get out of the way of the three youngsters.

As he disappeared in the darkness Tommy turned
to the boy who had dropped out of the car to ask
him a question.

The boy was nowhere to be seen.

“Now we’ve gone and done it!” cried Sandy.

“I guess we have!” agreed Tommy. “We’ve let
the third boy get away from us! And we couldn’t
have done a worse thing!” he went on, “because
the boys in the mine will know that we are still in
this vicinity!”

While the boys stood blaming themselves the
sharp call of the Wolf pack came to them.

Chapter XI

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR

When Will and George came to the back of the
weigh-house they heard some one moving about at
the front.

“That’s probably the caretaker, taking his last
look for the night,” suggested Will. “He pokes
around all the outbuildings every night before he
goes to bed. At least, he is supposed to.”

“But this fellow hasn’t got any lantern,” urged
George.

“The plot deepens!” chuckled Will.

“Can you crawl around there and see who it is,”
asked George, “or shall I go? It may be a thief, or
it may be Ventner, or it may be this boy we’re
looking for. Anyway, we want to know who it is!”

“I’ll go!” Will suggested, “and don’t you make
any racket if you hear something doing there. The
one thing to do at this time is to keep our presence
here a profound secret.”

Will moved cautiously around the angle of the
weigh-house just in time to see a figure leaving the
side of the building and moving toward the breaker.
There was a little side door in the breaker not far
from the weigh-house, and it was toward this that
the prowler was making his way.

Half way to the little house the fellow stumbled
over some obstruction in his path and fell sprawling
to the ground. He arose with an impatient oath
and moved on again, but not before the watcher had
recognized both the figure and the voice. Will
turned back to where George stood.

“That’s Ventner,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Dead sure!”

There was a short silence.

“What can we do now?”

“I don’t know of anything we can do, unless it
is to watch the rascal and see where he goes,”
answered the other. “The chances are that he’s
trying to get into the mine!”

“That shows that the fellow’s a crook,” Will
contended. “He has full permission to enter the
mine at any time he sees fit.”

“Of course, he’s a crook!” agreed George. “What
would he be sneaking around here in the night for,
if he wasn’t engaged in some underhand game? You
just wait until we get into the mine,” the boy continued,
“and we’ll give him a ghost scare that’ll
hold him for a while.”

As Ventner approached the little side door leading
into the breaker, a light flashed in the window of
the room which the boys had occupied, and directly
Canfield’s voice was heard asking:

“Who’s there?”

“Now if he’s on the square, he’ll answer!”
whispered Will.

There was no reply whatever, and in a moment the
caretaker called again, this time rather peremptorily:

“What are you prowling about the yard for?”

The detective dropped to his knees and began
crawling away.

“If I see you around here again,” the caretaker
shouted in a braver tone now that the intruder was
taking his departure, “I’ll do some shooting!”

Evidently giving over the attempt to enter the
mine at that time, the detective arose to his feet as
soon as he gained the shelter of the weigh-house,
and walked away, passing as he did so, within a few
feet of where the boys were standing.

“That settles that bum detective, so far as we
are concerned!” Will said to his chum, in a whisper.
“We knew before that he was playing a rotten game
on us, but we didn’t know that his plans included
such surreptitious visits to the mine.”

After making sure that the detective was not
within sight or sound, Will and George tapped
softly at the little door and were admitted by the
caretaker. Five minutes later they were joined by
Tommy and Sandy.

“Were you boys out there a few moments ago?”
asked Canfield.

“Nix!” replied George. “That was Venter. We
saw him from the weigh-house. He was trying to
sneak his way into the mine!”

“But he has full permission to enter at any time
he sees fit!” urged the caretaker. “It doesn’t seem
as if he would attempt to steal his way in during
the night. You must be mistaken!”

“Yes, and perhaps we were mistaken about the
sawing of the ladder, too!” Tommy broke in.

“Yes, we may all be mistaken about that.”

“Not so you could notice it!” declared Sandy.
“If you look at the thief’s coat, you’ll see that he
didn’t do all the sawing on the rungs of the ladder.
We’ve got him too dead to skin!”

Without any lights being shown on the surface,
the boys were conducted down the ladder to the
first level. There they found a room very cosily
furnished, indeed. A lounge from the office, a
couple of good sized cupboards, and a large table
had been brought down, together with a serviceable
rug and numerous chairs, and tho apartment presented
an unexpectedly homelike appearance.

The current was on, and two electric lamps made
the room as light as day. The cooking was to be
done over electric coils so that the presence of the
boys would not be disclosed by smoke. One of the
ventilating pipes which supplied the offices in the
vicinity of the shaft with fresh air passed through
the room, so there was no lack of ozone.

“Have we got plenty of eatings?” asked Tommy.

“Plenty!” was the reply. “I have arranged for
fresh meat, milk and vegetables to be brought in
every evening.”

“Talk about your bull-headed, obstinate men!”
exclaimed Tommy, as the caretaker finally took his
departure. “That fellow takes the cake! He
knows very well that we caught Ventner in the act
of sawing on the ladder, and he knows, too, that we
heard Wolf calls while we were in the mine. Still,
he shakes his head and says that he don’t know about
the boys being there, and don’t know about that
bum detective being crooked. If you could get a
saw and operate on his head, you’d find it solid
bone!”

“You’ll feel better after you get supper!” Sandy
declared.

“This isn’t any grouch!” insisted Tommy. “This
is the true story of that man’s life! If I had a dollar
for every time he doesn’t know anything, I’d be the
richest boy in the world!”

“Are you thinking of going down the mine tonight?”
asked George, with a wink at Will. “We
might try another midnight excursion.”

“If you kids go into the mine tonight”, declared Will,
“I’ll send you both back to Chicago on the first train!”

“Aw, how are you going to find these boys if you
don’t go into the mine?” demanded Tommy. “I
suppose you’ll want us to wait till daylight when
the owners will be looking around to see if any
damage was done by the inundation. The best time
is at night!”

“Look here,” Will argued, “we’ve got to do more
than lay hands on the boys! We’ve got to find out
why they are hiding in the mine.”

“That’s the correct word,” agreed George. “Hiding
is the word that expresses the situation exactly!”

“There is no doubt,” Will continued, “that the
boys were sent here by some one for some specific
purpose. They are hiding in the mine with a well-defined
motive. I have an idea that we might be
able to find them in twenty-four hours, but what is
more important, is to find out what they are up to.”

“Well, in order to get the whole story, we’ll have
to pretend that we are looking for them and can’t
find them!” George said.

“That’s right!” laughed Tommy. “Give them
plenty of rope and they’ll hang themselves. We may
as well have the whole story while we’re at it.”

Before preparing their beds for the night, the boys
paid a visit to the shaft and made their way down to
the rungs which had been cut. They found that
they had been replaced by new ones.

There was still water in the lower levels of the
mine, but it was slowly disappearing through the
sump, and the indications were that it would be dry
by morning. The boys listened intently for some
evidence of occupancy as they moved up and down
the shaft, but all was still.

“This would be a good place to tell a ghost story,”
Tommy chuckled as they moved back to their
room on the first level.

“There’s about a million stories now, entitled
The Ghost of the Mine!” declared Sandy. “Perhaps
however,” he went on, “one more wouldn’t hurt.”

“If I see a ghost tonight,” declared Tommy, “it’ll
be in my dreams!”

Sandy and Tommy were sound asleep on their
cots as soon as supper was over, and Will and
George were getting ready to retire when the soft
patter of a light footstep sounded in the vicinity
of the shaft.

“Rats must be thick in the mine!” suggested
George.

“Rats nothing!” declared Will. “Those two
youngsters are prowling about in order to see what
we are up to!”

As he spoke the boy arose, turned off the electric
light and stepped out into the passage.

Chapter XII

A MIDNIGHT ROBBER

There was a quick scamper of feet as Will stepped
out, then silence!

“Where did he go?” asked George, joining his
chum on the outside.

“Down the ladder!” replied Will.

“Why don’t we go and see where he went?”

“That might be a good idea,” Will replied. “Do
you think it’s safe for us to try to navigate that shaft
in the dark?”

“We can stick to the ladders, can’t we?” asked
George.

“We ought to find out where the kids hang out,”
Will argued. “I’d like to get my hands on one of
them!”

“I don’t think we’re likely to do that tonight,”
George answered. “It seems to me that about the
only way we can catch those fellows is to set a bear
trap. They seem to be rather slippery.”

Will, clad only in pajamas and slippers, moved
toward the shaft, and looked down. It was dark and
still below, and he turned back with a little shudder.
The situation was not at all to his liking.

“Well, are you going down?” asked George.

“Sure, I’m going down!” Will answered. “I’m
only waiting to get up my nerve! It looks pretty
dreary down there. If we could use a light I wouldn’t
mind, but it’s pretty creepy going down that
hole in the darkness.”

“Then suppose we wait until morning,” suggested
George.

Will leaned against the shaft timbers and laughed.

“It’ll be just as dark in here in the morning, as it
is now!” he said. “I think we’d better go on down
tonight and see if we can locate the fellows.”

The two boys passed swiftly down the ladder,
paused a moment at the second level, and then
passed on to the third. The gangways leading out
from the shaft were reasonably dry now. Lower
down the dip they were still under a few inches of
water.

“I don’t see how we’re going to discover anybody
down in this blooming old well!” George grumbled.
“There might be a regiment of state troops here
and we wouldn’t be able to see a single soldier!”

“We can’t show a light, for all that!” declared
Will. “We’ve just got to wait and see if they won’t
be kind enough to show a light.”

“You guessed it,” chuckled George, whispering
softly in his chum’s ear, “there’s a glimmer of light,
now!”

“I see it!” Will replied.

The boys left the ladder and moved out into the
center gangway. They could see a light flickering
some distance in advance, and had no difficulty in
following it.

“That’s an electric torch!” Will commented.

“Perhaps, if we follow along, we’ll be able to track
them to their nest,” George suggested, “and, still, I
don’t care about getting very far away from the
shaft. We might get lost in these crooked passages.”

“Yes,” replied Will. “Some one might head us
off, too. I don’t care about being held up here in
pajamas.”

The mine was damp and cold, and a wind was
sweeping up the passage toward the shaft. The boys
shivered as they walked, yet kept resolutely on until
the light they were following left the main gangway
and disappeared in a cross heading.

“That means ‘Good-night’ for me,” whispered
Will, “for I’m not going to get out beyond the reach
of the rails. I guess well have to go back and invent
some other means of trapping those foxy boys.”

As Will spoke the light reappeared and moved on
down the gangway again. Then, for the first time,
the boys saw a figure outlined against the illumination.
Will caught his chum by the arm excitedly.

“That isn’t one of the boys at all!” he exclaimed.

“Well, how large a population do you think this
mine has!” demanded George. “If it isn’t one of the
boys, who is it?”

“That bum detective!” answered Will.

“So he got in here at last, did he?” chuckled
George. “Well, it’s up to us to find out what he’s
doing in here!”

“Do you think that is the gink who was prowling
around our room?” asked Will. “If he is, then our
little trip in the country doesn’t count for much!”

“The fellow who visited us,” George argued, “was
light and quick on his feet. This bum detective
waddles along like an old cow.”

“Then we’ve passed the boy who called to see us,
and failed to leave a card,” grinned Will. “We may
meet him as we return!”

“Here’s hoping we bump straight into him if we
do meet him,” George exclaimed. “I’m just aching
to get my hands on that fellow!”

“I’m not particularly anxious to catch him just
yet,” Will suggested. “I want to find out what the
kids are up to before we pounce down upon them.”

While the boys stood in the passage, whispering
together, the light moved on until it came to a
chamber which seemed to be rather shallow, for the
reflection of the searchlight was still in the gangway.

“Now we’ve got him!” exclaimed Will. “I think
I remember that chamber, and, unless I’m very
much mistaken, it opens only on this passage!
While he’s poking around in there, we’ll sneak up and
see what he’s doing!”

Before the boys reached the entrance to the
chamber they heard the sounds of a pick. When
they came nearer and looked in they saw the detective
poking away at a heap of “gob” which lay in
one corner of the excavation. He worked industriously,
and apparently without fear of discovery.
Now and then he stooped down to peer into a crevice
in the wall, but soon went on again.

“I wonder if he thinks he can find two boys in that
heap of refuse?” laughed George. “I wonder why
he don’t use a microscope.”

The detective busied himself at the heap of refuse
for a considerable length of time, and then began a
further investigation of little breaks in the wall.
Using his pick to enlarge the openings he made a
systematic search of one break after another.

“Looks like he might be hunting after some pirate
treasure,” George chuckled. “I never heard of
Captain Kidd sailing over into the sloughs of Pennsylvania.
Did you?”

“That tells the story!” Will whispered. “The
fellow is here on some mission of his own. That
story of his about being in quest of the boys is all a
bluff! I reckon he had heard somewhere that two
boys were missing and came here with the fairy
tale!”

“Well, he’s got a good, large mine to look in if he’s
in search of treasure,” George suggested. “He can
spend the rest of his days here, provided the operators
don’t get sore on him.”

While the boys looked, Ventner turned toward the
entrance to the chamber, and they scampered away.
Turning back, they saw him pass out of the place
where he had been working and into a similar excavation
farther on. There he worked as industriously
as before.

“You see how it is,” Will suggested. “The fellow
is hunting for something, and doesn’t know where
to look for it! So it’s all right to let him go ahead
with his quest for hidden wealth, or whatever it is
he’s after. When he finds it, we’ll not be far away!”

“I like this walking about in my naked feet,”
George grunted in a moment. “I had my slippers
on when I came down the ladder, but I either had to
take them off and carry them in my hands or lose
them in the mud.”

“Same here!” Will said. “I’m going back to my
little cot bed right now and go to sleep. I think we
have the detective sized up and we can catch the kids
some other night.”

“Me for the hay, too,” George exclaimed. “I
don’t think I was ever quite so sleepy in my life!”

“Now, on the way back,” Will cautioned, “we
ought to keep still and keep a sharp lookout for the
person who was sneaking around our quarters.”

“Whoever it was may be between us and the
shaft,” George suggested.

“If I thought so,” Will argued, “I’d just stand
around and wait until they pass us on the way in.
I don’t want to find those boys just now. There’s a
mystery connected with this mine which the caretaker
knows nothing about, and which Mr. Horton
never referred to when he sent us down here.

“We wouldn’t be able to breathe if we didn’t discover
an air of mystery every fifteen minutes,”
George declared.

Half way back to the shaft, the boys, who were
walking very softly in their stockinged feet, heard a
rattle as of a moving stone or piece of coal in the
passage, and at once drew up against the side wall.

While they stood there, scarcely daring to breathe,
they sensed that some one was passing them in the
darkness. The tread was light and brisk, and they
thought they heard a soft chuckle as the unseen
figure breezed by them.

“I’ll bet the lad who was listening near our door
never came down the shaft until after we did!”
George whispered after the figure had passed by.

“That’s very likely!” agreed Will.

“Then he may have been poking around our
quarters while we have been gone.”

“That’s very likely, too.”

Believing the way to be clear now, the boys
hastened on toward the shaft. Just as they reached
the foot of the ladder they heard a sound which sent
the blood throbbing to their cheeks.

“He’s making fun of us!” exclaimed George.

“It looks like it,” admitted Will.

The sound they heard was the low, complaining
snarl of the Wolf.

“The nerve of him!” exclaimed George.

“Perhaps he’ll answer now!” Will suggested.

Then followed the “slap, slap, slap!” of the Beaver
Patrol.

No answer came from the darkness beyond the
shaft.

“He’s got his nerve with him!” declared Will.
“When I get hold of him, I’ll teach him to answer
Boy Scout challenges!”

When the boys got back to their quarters they
found Tommy and Sandy sitting in the darkness with
their automatics and their searchlights in their
hands. One of them turned on a finger of light as
the boys entered but immediately shut it off again.

“What’s coming off here?” demanded Will.

“Do you know what those fellows did?” asked
Tommy. “They came here while we were asleep
and stole about half our provisions!”

Chapter XIII

ONE MORE HUNGRY BOY

“We may as well turn on the lights!” Will said.
“If any one comes in here to steal Tommy’s necktie,”
he added with a wink at his chum, “we want to
see what he looks like.”

“Why didn’t you stay here and watch, then?”
demanded Tommy. “Why did you go off and leave
the camp all alone? I heard people moving around,
and I thought it was you.”

Will and George sat down on the edge of their cots
and laughed.

“Yes, you thought it was me!” Will said directly.
“You never heard a thing! You’d better look and
see if the midnight visitors didn’t steal your pajamas.
Or they might have taken your pillow.”

Tommy threw a shoe at his tormentor and turned
on the electric light.

“Now that I’m awake,” he said with a sly grin, “I
think that I’ll get myself something to eat. Seems
to me I’m always hungry.”

While the boy rattled among canned goods and
candled eggs to see if they were fit for a four-minute
boil, Sandy turned to George.

“What did you find in the mine?” he asked.

“We found that bum detective nosing around.
We’ve got his number now, all right,” the boy went
on, “and there’s something in the mine that he wants
to find and he doesn’t know where to look for it.
He isn’t looking for Jimmie and Dick any more
than we’re looking for a pot of gold at the end of a
rainbow. I don’t believe he was ever sent here to
make a search for the missing boys!”

“What was he doing when you saw him?” asked
Sandy.

“Poking around in worked-out chambers with a
pick!”

“Did he see you?”

“You bet he didn’t! Do you think we’re going to
walk six miles in from the country in order to dodge
the detective, and then let him run across us in the
mine?”

“Yes, but what’s he looking for?” insisted Sandy.

“That, me son,” George replied with a wink, “is
locked in the bosom of the future! We may be able
to find out what he’s doing here when we find out who
struck Billy Patterson.”

“Don’t get gay now!” grinned Sandy.

“Well, if you insist upon it,” George continued
with a smile, “Ventner was digging in refuse heaps
for something which he didn’t find!”

“Did you meet the boys who stole our provisions?”
was the next question. “I wish you’d got hold of
them!”

“We are certain that one of them passed us while
we were returning,” George answered.

“The nerve of him!” shouted Sandy.

“The idea of his coming here and swiping our provisions!”
Tommy cut in. “If I ever get hold of that
gink, I’ll beat his head off!”

“You going back after than bum detective tonight?”
asked George.

“Not me!” answered Sandy. “Me for ham and
eggs!”

“What’s the matter with passing the ham and eggs
around?”

Every one of the four boys sprang forward as the
words came from somewhere just outside the door.

“That’s one of those thieving kids!” declared
Tommy.

“You’ve had your share!” shouted Sandy.

“It has now been nine days since I’ve tasted food!”
came the answer from the other side of the door, and
the boys thought they caught a chuckle between the
words.

“All right!” replied Tommy. “You go and sit in
the deserted mine nine days more, and then we’ll
consider whether you have any right to be hungry.
Go on away tonight, anyhow!”

“Not so you could notice it,” came the insistent
tones from beyond the door. “I’m going to stay
right here until I get something to eat!”

“Eat the stuff you stole!” advised Sandy.

“You’re in wrong!” came from the other side of the
door. “I haven’t had a thing to eat in forty or
fifty days. Come on, now,” he added, “be good
fellows and open up. I’m so hungry I could eat a
brass cylinder.”

“Aw, let him in!” advised Tommy. “He’ll stand
there chinning all night if we don’t! We’ve got
enough to eat for the present anyway.”

Will unfastened the door and a tall, slender young
fellow of perhaps seventeen stepped inside the room
and stood blinking a moment under the strong
electric light. His face was streaked with coal dust
and his clothing was ragged and dirty. Still, the
boy looked like anything but a tramp. Tommy
eyed him suspiciously for a moment.

“Where’d you come from?” he asked.

“Off the rods!” was the reply.

“And I suppose,” Sandy broke in, “that you were
just taking a stroll by starlight and just happened
to walk into this mine.”

“Sure!” answered the other with a provoking grin.

“Well, if anybody should ask you,” Tommy continued,
“you’re the boy that had a mixup with the
tramp tonight, and ran away while we were trying
to invite you to supper. What do you know about
that?”

“Invite me to supper now and see if I’ll run
away!”

“If you boys will cut out this foolish conversation
for a minute,” Will suggested, “I’ll try to find out
what this boy wants. Do you mean to say,” he
added turning to Tommy, “that you bumped into
this kid while returning to the mine from the tracks?”

“Didn’t I tell you about that?” asked Tommy.
“I thought I did. We found him in a mixup with a
tramp, and that’s all there is to it!”

“And I told you at the time,” the stranger interrupted,
“that the tramp tried to rob me! That was
all right, too. He did try to rob me, but I didn’t
have a blessed cent in my possession, so he didn’t get
anything! The tramp who got a hold of me night
before last stripped me clean! And that, you see, is
why I haven’t got any money to buy provisions
with. And also that’s the reason why I’m hungry.”

The four boys gathered around the stranger and
began a systematic course of questions which at first
brought forth only unsatisfactory answers.

“And also,” the boy went on, taking up the speech
be had begun some minutes before, “that’s why two
other boys are hungry just about this time. I got
rolled for my wad plenty.”

“That’s South Clark street!” laughed Tommy.

“That’s Bowery!” corrected the other.

“What’d you say about other boys being hungry?”
asked Sandy.

“I said that’s why two other boys are hungry.”

“They ain’t hungry any more,” Tommy declared
with a wink.

“That listens good!” the stranger said.

“Because,” continued Tommy, “they came in
here about an hour ago and stole everything they
could get their hands on.”

“Brave boys!” laughed the other.

“You wasn’t hiding behind the door when they
gave out nerve, either!” declared Tommy. “Here
these boys come here and steal our grub and you seem
to think they did a noble thing! What’s your name,
anyhow?”

“Buck,” was the reply. “Elmer Cyrus Buck,
409 Lexington Avenue, N. Y. C. Member of the
Wolf Patrol, Boy Scouts of America, and just about
ready to scrap for something to eat!”

“Why didn’t you say so before?” Tommy exclaimed,
setting a great slice of ham and several
freshly boiled eggs, together with bread and butter
and canned tomatoes, before the young man.
“Why didn’t you say something about being a Boy
Scout before you tried to hold us up for a hand-out?
You seem to go at everything wrong end first!”

“How long since you’ve seen Jimmie Maynard and
Dick Thompson?” asked Will. “You must have
failed to connect with them tonight!”

“How do you know that?”

“Because, if you had bumped into them, they
would have fed you out of the provisions they stole
from us!”

“I haven’t been looking for them tonight!” Elmer
replied. “I tried to follow you to the mine,” he
added turning to Tommy and Sandy, “when you left
me at the car. But, somehow, I lost track of you in
the darkness, and when you finally got into the mine,
I had to wait for things to quiet down before I could
force an entrance. I don’t think I could have got in
at all if some one hadn’t been ahead of me with a
jimmy, or an axe, or something of that kind.”

“That must have been Ventner,” suggested Will.

“Mother of Moses!” cried Elmer. “Has that
fellow got into the mine again? Does he know
you’re here?”

“He knew that we were here,” was the answer,
“but he thinks we’ve gone away! He’s down in the
mine now, hunting for a pot of diamonds in the refuse
cast aside by the miners.”

“Well you got into the mine at last,” Will suggested,
“what is the next move you are thinking of
making?”

“After I finish my modest supper,” Elmer answered,
with a nod at the great stack of food which
Tommy had piled up on his plate, “I’m going to give
you boys the surprise of your lives!”

“You’ve pretty near done that now!” laughed
Will.

“And I’m going to begin,” Elmer resumed, “by
fishing two members of the Wolf Patrol out of the
mine and bringing them up here to apolozige for
stealing your grub!”

“If you’ll do that,” replied Will, “we’ll forgive you!”

Chapter XIV

MINE RATS READY FOR WAR

“Wait till I destroy this hen fruit,” Elmer said,
“and I’ll go down and bring those two foolish
youngsters up with me. It’s time we had an understanding
with you boys. You’re here looking for
something, and we’re here looking for something.
Perhaps we would meet with better success if we
talked over our plans.”

“What are you looking for?” demanded Tommy.

“Keep it dark,” grinned Elmer. “I’m not going
to tell you a thing until I bring Jimmie and Dick
up here so they can get next to the whole story! I
guess you boys can work together without scrapping,
can’t you?”

“When we find the boys,” laughed Will, “our job
will come to an end!”

“So that’s what you came down here after, is it?”

“Yes, we came here to dig two boys out of a mine.”

“I don’t believe it!” replied Elmer.

“We came here from Chicago for that very purpose,”
went on Will.

“Who sent you here?” asked Elmer.

“Lawyer Horton.”

“Then Lawyer Horton didn’t tell you the whole
story,” laughed Elmer. “He held out on you boys,
just to see if you wouldn’t get the story at the mine.
Of course he didn’t know where we were at the time
he sent you down here, but he never sent you for
the express purpose of finding us!”

“Then why did he send us?” asked Tommy.

“You just wait till I go and bring up Jimmie and
Dick, and I’ll tell you all about it! I won’t be gone
more than a minute.”

“But hold on!” cried Sandy. “You mustn’t go
chasing down into the mine now. That bum detective
is there, and we don’t want him to know that
we’re anywhere within a hundred miles of this
place.”

“He doesn’t know that we’re here, either,” commented
Elmer. “His notion is that he drove us all
into the next state when he caused the mine to be
flooded. He thinks he has the whole mine to himself
now.”

“So he caused the mine to be flooded, did he?”

“Sure he did,” was the curt reply. “The boys
saw him digging away at the wall which protects
this dry mine from the wet one next door.”

“So you saw him doing it, did you?”

“I didn’t, because I haven’t been in the mine
before for any length of time, but Jimmie and Dick
saw him.”

“We’ve been told that he made the trouble,” Will
agreed, “but we weren’t so very sure of it, after all.
At least, we didn’t have the proof. He ought to get
twenty years for that!”

“Well, if you keep asking me questions all night,”
Elmer declared, “I’ll never get the boys up here, and
you’ll never know why you were sent here! You
can come along with me if you want to.”

“But how about this detective?” insisted Sandy.

“We ought to be able to get the boys up here
without letting him know that we are in the mine,”
answered Elmer. “We needn’t travel with a fife and
drum corps ahead of us, nor even carry any lights
down with us. He’s probably working in some inside
chamber.”

“All right,” Will answered, “we’ve had our trip
through the mine tonight, so we’ll let Tommy and
Sandy go with you. Are you sure the boys will come
if you ask them to?”

“Sure they’ll come!” was the reply.

The two boys drew on their rubber boots with
which they had provided themselves before taking up
their quarters in the mine, and which they had been
too excited to use on a previous occasion, and Will
loaned a pair to Elmer, then they started down the
ladders.

“It would be something of a joke if we should butt
into that detective now, wouldn’t it?” Sandy
laughed, as they passed down from the second level.

“I shouldn’t consider it much of a joke,” replied
Tommy. “We took a lot of pains to make him
think we’d gone out of town!”

As the boys walked softly down the center gangway
they heard a fall of rock which seemed to come
from the passage next north. This passageway was
connected by the main one with a cross-heading
situated perhaps three hundred feet from the shaft.

“I don’t know much about mines,” whispered
Elmer as the boys stopped and listened to the clatter
of the rocks as they settled down on the floor of the
cavern, “but that sounds to me a whole lot like a fall
from the roof. I hope the boys are not injured.”

The boys walked faster until they came to the
cross-passage and then turned to the right. Just
as they left the main gangway, they heard the sound
of running feet and directly the distant creaking of
the ladder rungs.

“Some one’s making a hot-foot for the surface!”
exclaimed Tommy.

“That’s Ventner!” declared Sandy.

“How do you know that?”

“Because he wears heavy boots. We have rubbers
on, and Jimmie and Dick, who are down in the
mine, are also wearing rubber boots!”

“The farther he gets away from the mine, the
better it will suit me,” Elmer broke in. “I wish
he’d go away and stay for a hundred years!”

“The chances are that he dug away one of the
pillars and caused that drop from the roof,” suggested
Sandy.

“I guess that’s all right, too,” Elmer argued.
“If he’s been digging around here the way the boys
say he has, he’s certainly taking chances on cutting
down more than one column. He ought to be fired
out of the mine!”

The boys now came to a chamber across the
entrance to which a great mass of shale had been
thrown when the fall from the roof took place.

At first they listened, fearful that they would hear
the voices of the lads they were in search of beyond
the wall, possibly crushed under the weight of the
mass of stone. Then they passed along for a short
distance and peered into the chamber over the heap
of refuse.

What they saw brought excited exclamations to
their lips.

Jimmie and Dick stood in the interior of the
chamber, hedged in by fallen debris. They were
swinging their searchlights frantically from side to
side, and while the boys looked, they began, the
utterance of such yells as had never before been
heard in that gloomy place.

“What’s the trouble?” asked Elmer, showing his
light at the narrow opening between the roof of the
chamber and the pile of refuse.

“Oh, you’re there, are you?” asked one of the boys.
“We thought perhaps you’d gone back to New York
and left us to starve to death.”

“Well, you didn’t starve, did you?” asked Elmer.

“Wow, wow, wow!” yelled Jimmie.

“Now, what is it?” asked Elmer.

“Rats!” yelled the boy. “Millions of rats!
They’re creeping out by the regiment from behind
the cribbing where we were hidden!”

“That idiot of a detective,” the other boy went on,
“undermined a pillar and let about half an acre of
roof down into this chamber. When the roof fell,
it broke the cribbing and the rats began pouring
out.”

“They won’t hurt you!” declared Tommy. “Only
you mustn’t go to picking a quarrel with them.
They’re fighters when they get their tempers up.
Just let them alone and they’ll let you alone!”

“Who’s that talking?” demanded Jimmie.

“That’s the relief expedition!” laughed Elmer.

“You ought to be fired out of the Wolf Patrol for
not answering Boy Scout signals!” Tommy broke
in. “We called to you more than a dozen times, and
you never answered once!”

“Well, we had to wait until Elmer reported what
kind of fellows you were, didn’t we?” asked Dick.
“We couldn’t go and make friends with you without
knowing what you were here for, so we kept out of
your way until Elmer could find a way to learn more
about you.”

“And instead of finding a way,” Jimmie took up
the argument, “he goes off and gets lost in a thicket
about six feet square and never shows up with any
grub for twenty-four hours! So we had to go and
steal grub of the boys!”

“Yes, and we’re going to have you pinched when
you get out!” laughed Tommy. “You’ll get ninety
days for that.”

“Where’d that bum detective go?” asked Jimmie.
“When the roof fell, we heard him go clattering
down the gangway running as though he had only
about thirty seconds in which to get to New York.”

“He’s a long distance from the mine by this
time,” Elmer suggested.

“Well,” Jimmie said, “I don’t like the company
of these rats, so if you’ll kindly dig into the refuse on
your side, we’ll work from this side and we’ll soon
be out. These rats look hostile.”

“You let ’em alone!” advised Tommy.

“Yes, I’ll let ’em alone—not!” shouted Jimmie.
“You wait until I get an armful of rocks and I’ll
beat some of their heads off!”

“For the love of Mike, don’t do anything of the
kind!” yelled Tommy. “They’ll climb onto you
nine feet thick if you injure one of them!”

But it was too late! Jimmie acquired an armful
of large sized pieces of slate and began tossing them
into the huddle of rats in the corner.

For an instant the rats squealed viciously as they
Were struck by the sharp edges of the slate, then
they seemed to confer together for a moment or
two, then they spread out like a fan and began moving
toward the two boys.

“Now you’ve done it!” cried Tommy. “If you
don’t get out of there in about a second, the rats’ll
eat your legs off!”

Without waiting for the boys to assume the offensive,
the rats began screaming and springing at
their feet.

The three boys on the outside of the barrier,
understanding the peril their friends were in, crawled
up to the top of the wall of refuse which shut the
boys into the chamber and turned their lights inside.

It seemed to them then that the rats were two or
three deep on the floor. There appeared to be
hundreds—thousands of them. They circled around
the boys, becoming bolder every moment. They
nipped at the rubber boots and left the marks of their
teeth on the tough uppers.

“Now, boys,” Tommy yelled, as they drew their
automatics and leveled them over the wall, “shoot to
kill! This is no Sunday School picnic! And while
we’re shooting, boys, you back up to this wall, and
see if you can’t work your way to the top. If you
can get up here, we can manage to displace enough
slate to let you through.”

The boys fired volley after volley, but the rats
came on viciously.

Chapter XV

A STICK OF DYNAMITE

By this time Jimmie and Dick had their automatics
out and were firing into the horde of rats.
They killed the rodents by the score, yet for every
one slaughtered a dozen seemed to appear.

Presently the chamber became so full of powder
smoke, the air so stifling, that the lads were obliged
to cease firing.

“Work your way up this wall,” Tommy cried out
to the lads as he heard them panting below. “Work
your way up so we can catch hold of you, and you’ll
soon be out of that mess!”

“There’s a dozen rats hanging to my boots!”
cried Dick.

“And mine, too!” declared Jimmie.

The three boys on the outside continued to hurl
refuse from the top of the wall into the chamber.
This in a measure kept the rats back, and before
many minutes Jimmie and Dick were drawn to the
top of the barrier.

Their rubber boots were cut in scores of places by
the sharp teeth of the rats, and even their clothing
as high up as their shoulders showed ragged tears.
A dozen or more rats hung to the boys’ boots until
the top was reached, then they dropped back screaming
with baffled rage.

“Talk about your wild Indians!” exclaimed
Tommy. “I never saw anything as vicious as that
was! I told you boys not to open up an argument
with those fellows! Mine rats are noted for their
courage when attacked.”

“How many bites did you get?” asked Elmer
anxiously.

“I got half a dozen nips!” answered Jimmie.

“And so did I,” Dick cut in.

“Well, you boys ought to get back to the room
right away,” Tommy suggested, “and have peroxide
applied to the wounds. I’ve known of people dying
of blood poison occasioned by rat bites.”

“Have you got it in camp with you?” asked Elmer.

“We’re the original field hospital!” laughed
Tommy. “We never leave Chicago without taking
with us everything needed in the first aid to the
wounded line. We’d be nice Boy Scouts to go poking
about the country with nothing with which to
heal our wounds!”

“Boys,” Elmer now said, with a mischievous grin
on his face, “I want to introduce you to Jimmie
Maynard and Dick Thompson. I’ve heard that
your names are Sandy and Tommy, but that’s all I
know about it!”

“Green and Gregory!” laughed Tommy. “My
name’s Gregory. Sandy’s name isn’t Sandy at all,
but Charley. We call him Sandy because he looks
like he’d been rolled in sand.”

“Well, we may as well be getting back to headquarters!”
declared Sandy after these original introductions
had been made. “But hold on,” he continued
turning back to Jimmie and Dick, with a look
on his face intended to be severe, “aren’t you going
to bring our provisions back?”

“The provisions,” laughed Jimmie, “were hidden
in the chamber where the rats were, and you’re welcome
to all you can get your hands on now!”

“Oh, well,” Sandy groaned, “I suppose we’ll have
to buy more.”

“One difficulty about passing in and out of the
mine so frequently,” Tommy stated, “is that this
man Ventner is likely to catch us at it. There’s no
knowing what he’ll do next if he finds that we’re
searching the place. According to Elmer, you
know,” he continued, “we didn’t finish our job when
we landed on you boys. He says the real game is
now about to begin”.

“He’s right there!” declared Jimmie.

“Strange thing Mr. Horton didn’t tell us all about
it!” complained Tommy. “Where was the use of his
sending us down here and making monkeys of us?
He ought to be ashamed of himself!”

“He wanted to see whether you could find out what
you were here for!” laughed Elmer. “Perhaps he
understood that after you caught us, we’d tell you
all about it. He’s a pretty foxy guy, that man
Horton, from all I hear about him! I’m going to
Chicago some day to meet him!”

“Well, what is it we’ve got to look for now?”
demanded Sandy.

“You just wait till we get to headquarters!” replied
Jimmie.

“We ought to do that just as quickly as possible,”
Tommy ventured, “because there’s no knowing when
that bum detective may return. I’d give a whole
lot of money right now to know what he is looking
for!”

The three strangers regarded each other laughingly,
evidently well pleased at the puzzled look
showing on the faces of their friends.

“Wait till we get to headquarters and get a square
meal under our belts,” Jimmie promised, “and we’ll
tell you what this bum detective is looking for. It
won’t take long to do it, either.”

“You know, then, do you?” asked Tommy.

“Of course, we know!”

“Then why don’t you tell?”

“Couldn’t think of telling on an empty stomach!”
laughed Jimmie provokingly.

As the boys walked along the passage, only a short
distance from the old tool house, they heard a
rattling and bumping on the shaft ladders and instantly
extinguished their lights.

Presently they heard footsteps on the hard floor
of the gangway, and then a light such as those being
used by the boys flashed out.

“Now we’re in for it!” exclaimed Tommy.

“For the love of Mike, don’t let him see us!”
whispered Jimmie.

“It’ll spoil everything if he does,” Dick submitted.

The boys crowded close against the wall of the
gangway and waited impatiently for Ventner to pass
along.

He was muttering to himself as he moved down the
gangway, and his round, protruding belly and his
little shapeless shoulders reminded the watching
lads of the gnomes they had read about, living in
underground cells and preying at night upon the
fairies.

Only for a trifling accident the boys would certainly
have been discovered. Just as the detective
came to a position ten or fifteen feet from where they
were standing, when he was in a position to see their
faces by the rays cast on ahead by the flashlight,
he partly turned his ankle in a stumble on the rails,
and for a moment the rays of the light were directed
downward. He hobbled along, raving and cursing,
for a few steps and then walked briskly on again.

But the ever-watchful eye of the searchlight no
longer struck upon the wall where the boys stood, and
they realized that for the present they were safe from
discovery. Ventner moved on down the gangway
and soon disappeared in a cross cutting which ran
to the right.

“That’s lucky!” exclaimed Jimmie.

“Why didn’t we geezle him?” demanded Tommy.

“Because we want his help!” replied Dick.

“His help?” laughed Sandy. “Yes, you’ll get his
help, all right! That fellow would get up in the
middle of the night to do you a dirty trick, and don’t
you ever forget it!”

“That’s the way he’s going to help us!” laughed
Elmer. “He’ll get up in the middle of some dark
night to do us a dirty trick, and before he knows
what he’s about, he’ll be doing us a great kindness!”

“Suppose I slip back there and see what he’s
doing?” asked Tommy.

“Can you find your way back to headquarters
alone?” asked Sandy.

“If I can’t,” asserted Tommy, “I won’t be sending
any wireless messages to you! If you think I’m
likely to get lost, Dick can go back with me. He
ought to know every corner in the old mine.”

“Sure he does!” laughed Jimmie. “We’ve been
travelling this mine for a good many nights now, and
we know it like a book.”

So Tommy and Dick started back down the
passage, the intention being to hasten to the spot
where Ventner had disappeared from the gangway,
and then return to their companions immediately.

“We can’t stay very long, you know,” Tommy
explained, “because you’ve got to have that peroxide
dope put on your bites. It doesn’t pay to fool with
wounds of that description!”

“We’ll be back to the old tool room as soon as
they are!” answered Dick. “It will take only a
minute to run down there and back!”

When the boys reached the cross-cutting into
which Ventner had disappeared, they saw his light
some distance away. It seemed to be in one of the
chambers connected with the cross-cutting.

As they looked, the detective stepped forward
into the circle of illumination and began working
with a pick.

“Is he always doing that when you see him?”
asked Tommy.

“You bet he is!” answered Dick.

“What’s he doing it for?”

“You’ll have to ask Elmer that.”

“But you know, don’t you?”

“Of course I know, but I’m not going to tell, because
we all agreed that the story should never be
told by any member of our party until Elmer got
ready to tell it. So you see you’ve got to wait!”

“If I had my way about it,” gritted Tommy,
“I’d go back there and geezle that bum detective
and wall him up in a chamber until he got hungry
enough to tell the story himself. Then we wouldn’t
have to go sneaking around the mine in order to keep
out of his way!”

“That would be a foolish move,” insisted Dick,
“because every stroke of the pick Ventner takes
helps us along in the game we’re playing.”

“You’re the original little mystery boy, ain’t
you?” said Tommy rather crossly. “All right,
I’ll get even.”

The detective now moved farther along the cross-cutting
and attacked a column of mingled rock and
coal which helped to support the roof.

“The blithering idiot is going to try that trick
again!” exclaimed Dick. “He’ll have the whole
mine down on our heads if he doesn’t stop that business.
He’s always cutting down pillars.”

“Just say the word,” declared Tommy, “and
I’ll go stop him!”

“Let him go his own gait,” replied Dick. “We’ll
manage to keep out of the way of the falls, and he
can run his own chances.”

Presently they saw the detective take something
which resembled a stick of dynamite from a pocket
and begin the work of setting it into the pillar.
The boys moved hastily back.

“Now what do you think of that for a fool?”
exclaimed Dick. “He’ll have the whole mine down
on our heads some day, just as sure as he’s a foot
high! I hope he’ll be broken in two when the fall
comes.”

The boys stood some distance away watching the
detective as he awkwardly manipulated the stick
of dynamite.

Chapter XVI

CAUSED BY A FALL

In the meantime Sandy, Elmer and Jimmie,
reaching the old tool house, found Will and George
very wide awake and doing the most extraordinary
stunts of cooking.

“You said that your friends would be hungry,”
laughed Will, “and so we’re preparing to feed them
up fine. After that, you know, you’ve got to go on
and tell us why we were sent down here without any
real information as to the work we were to do.”

“Where did you leave Tommy and Dick?”
asked George.

“They went back to see what the detective was
up to.”

“So he’s in the mine again, is he?”

“Yes,” replied Sandy, “and if I had my way about
it, he’d go out so quick that he’d think he’d struck
a barrel of dynamite.”

“If he keeps fooling with dynamite, he’s likely to
do that anyhow,” Elmer cut in. “The boys say
that he uses dynamite in the search of the mine he
is making. He doesn’t know how to use it, either!”

“Then he’s got to be fired out of the mine!”
declared Will. “We can’t have him around here
carrying dynamite in his clothes, and dropping it
on the ground. You might as well give a baby a
box of matches and a hammer to play with. Some
day there’ll be an explosion.”

“Aw, leave him alone for a few days!” Jimmie
advised. “He’s doing us a lot of good just now,
and we don’t want to lose his help.”

“His help?” repeated Will.

“He’s bully help!” shouted George, with fine
sarcasm.

“I guess I’ll have to tell you about the mystery
of the mine,” Elmer laughed. “Tommy ought to
be here to get the story with the rest, but you can
tell him about it later on.”

“He ought to be here any minute now,” Jimmie
asserted.

“Oh, he’ll be here all right!” George argued. “Go
on with the story. It’s been hours since you came
in here with the suggestion that there was a story,
and you haven’t told it yet!”

“Yes,” Will interrupted, “get busy and tell us
what Mr. Horton neglected to say when he sent us
down here; and while you are about it,” the boy
went on, “you may as well tell us whether you really
became lost in the mine, or whether you were sent
here to do the very things you did do.”

“Also,” George broke in, “you may as well tell
us what the detective is doing here, and how he is
helping you in trying to blow up the mine.”

“The boys were never lost in the mine a minute!”
replied Elmer, with a grin, “and Mr. Horton knew
it. Mr. Horton received his instructions from
Attorney Burlingame of New York, and I am positive
that Burlingame gave his brother lawyer the whole
story.”

“Foxy game, eh?” laughed Will.

“I guess they wanted you to find out if we boys
were of any account, and whether we were playing
fair!” laughed Jimmie.

“Well, anyway, they expected you to find us and
learn the story I’m now going to tell,” Elmer continued.

“Je—rusalem!” exclaimed Will. “Why don’t
you get at it. That story has been jumping from
tongue to tongue clothed in mystery for hours and
we haven’t been favored with it yet!”

“The story opens,” Elmer began, “on a cold and
stormy night in October in the year 1913. As the
wind blew great gusts of rain down upon such pedestrians
as happened to be out of doors——”

“Aw, cut it out!” exclaimed Will. “Why don’t
you go on and tell the story? We don’t want any
more of that Henry James business! You know he
always has a solitary horseman proceeding slowly
on foot.”

“Well, it was a dark night, and a stormy one!”
declared Elmer. “If it had been clear and bright,
Stephen Carson, the Wall street banker, wouldn’t
have received a dent in his cupola. In stepping
down from his automobile his foot slipped on the
wet pavement, arid he fell, striking on the back of
his head.”

“What’s that got to do with this mine mystery?”
demanded George.

“It has a great deal to do with this mine mystery,”
Elmer answered. “Stephen Carson arose from the
ground, rubbed the back of his head with his gloved
hand, and continued on his way to a meeting of a
board of directors. He appeared to be perfectly
sane and responsible for his acts at the meeting of
the board, and when he left in his machine there
were no indications that he had suffered more than
a slight bruise from his fall. He was not seen at
home again for two weeks.”

“Now you begin to get interesting!” declared
Will.

“Where did he go?” asked Sandy.

“That is what his friends don’t know,” replied
Elmer.

“But he must have been seen somewhere!” insisted
Sandy.

“He was!” answered Elmer. “He was seen in the
vicinity of this mine!”

“Wow, wow, wow!” exclaimed Sandy.

“What was he doing here?” asked Will.

“Wandering about the premises.”

“Now I can tell you the rest,” Will said with a
chuckle.

“Go on, then,” advised Elmer.

“From the meeting of the board of directors that
night,” Will went on, whimsically, “this man
Stephen Carson went directly to a safety deposit
vault where three or four hundred thousand dollars’
in the way of cash and jewelry, were hidden. He
took the whole bundle and disappeared. Is that
anywhere near right, Elmer?”

“Go on!” Elmer replied.

“Then in two weeks time he comes back and says
that he don’t know where he put the jewelry, but
that he thinks he hid it in this mine. And, as they
can’t find any place where he hocked the jewelry,
or put it up to carry out some gigantic Wall street
plan, they are forced to believe that he really did
mislay the jewelry while temporarily out of his head.
Is that anywhere near right?”

“If you’ll amend your report so as to show that
he went to the Night and Day bank and drew out
something over two hundred thousand dollars which
he had on deposit there, and disappeared with the
entire sum, you’ll come nearer to the truth.”

Will gave a long whistle of amazement.

“Two hundred thousand dollars in real money!”
exclaimed George.

“Yes, he took two hundred thousand dollars in
real money away with him that night,” Elmer went
on, “and when he returned to his home again, he was
penniless and in rags.”

“Was he in his right mind?” asked Will.

“He seemed to be.”

“Has he now recovered from the injury he received
that night?”

“So the doctors say.”

“Then why doesn’t he tell what he did with the
money?”

“That part of his life is blank. He was seen in
the vicinity of this mine, yet denies it. He was seen
loitering in the woods not far away, but insists that
he never visited this mine except to attend meetings
of the board of directors.”

“Now I’ve got you!” laughed Will. “His friends
think he hid the money in this mine and we’ve been
sent here to find it!”

“That’s the idea,” agreed Elmer.

“And this bum detective is here for the same
purpose!”

“Yes, though where he received his information
is more than I know. Upon his return to his home,
Mr. Carson immediately made good the two hundred
thousand dollars taken from the Night and
Day bank and employed detectives to look up the
missing coin.

“Is Ventner one of them?” asked Will.

“I don’t think so,” replied Elmer. “We were
sent here to look through the mine, with the understanding
that you were to come on from Chicago
in a few days. Mr. Horton recommended you to
Mr. Burlingame and so you were employed.”

“Then this detective has no right here at all?”

“None whatever, so far as I can make out.”

“Then why not fire him?”

“Because he may accidently run across the money
some day.”

“If he does, he’ll get away with it!” declared
George.

“No, he won’t,” answered Elmer, “He’ll be
watched every minute from now on. You may be
sure of that!”

“But you didn’t seem to know what he was doing
tonight,” laughed Will.

“But I knew enough to come to the right place
for the information I desired,” replied Elmer.

“Strange thing Tommy and Dick don’t come!”
Sandy exclaimed, stepping to the door of the old
tool house and listening intently. “They should
have been here a long time ago!”

“Perhaps they’ve butted into Ventner,” suggested
Jimmie.

“They wouldn’t do that,” Elmer replied. “Every
blow he strikes with his pick saves us the trouble
of making one.”

“You don’t think he had any directions from anyone,
do you?” asked Will. “You don’t, think he
knows where to look for the money any more than
you do?”

“No, I think he just heard of the loss of the money
and came down here on his own account.”

“Well, if he’s using dynamite in the mine,” Will
continued, “he ought to be turned out of it. If
Mr. Carson really hid two hundred thousand dollars
in currency in here, it’s in some little pocket easy
to find if we get into the right chamber. The use
of dynamite might bury it twenty feet deep under
a load of shale that would never be removed!”

“That’s a fact!” cried Elmer.

The boys now stepped to the door and listened
again, attracted by the sound of running feet.

“There’s something doing!” exclaimed Sandy.
“When Tommy comes home on a run, there’s always
something going on.”

Directly the boys came panting up, stopping in
the doorway to look behind them. They were both
well winded.

“That bum detective back there,” Tommy exclaimed,
as soon as he could catch his breath, “is
putting in dynamite enough to blow up the whole
mine. He’s attaching a long fuse, so he can get
out before the explosion comes. We cried to get
down far enough to choke off the fuse, but couldn’t
do it. In just about another minute, you’ll hear
something like a Fourth of July celebration!”

Chapter XVII

THE SIGNS IN STONES

“We thought he’d send the shot off before we
got up the ladders!” exclaimed Dick. “We’re expecting
to hear the roar of it every minute now!”

“Perhaps something went wrong,” suggested
Will.

“What part of the mine is he in?” asked Jimmie.

Tommy explained the location of the cross-cutting
and Jimmmie gave a whistle of dismay. In
a moment he asked:

“Was he cutting into one of the pillars?”

“Yes,” was the answer; “he was getting ready
to blow it down with dynamite. It’s a wonder we
don’t hear the explosion!”

“If the spot where he’s working is the place I
think it is,” Jimmie continued, “the gink stands
a pretty good chance of finding something. We’ve
been searching in that chamber, and just before you
boys showed up tonight we thought we were on the
right track. Whether the money is there or not,
it is a sure thing that the walls of the chamber have
been tampered with. We think, though, that the
money is there!”

“Then we mustn’t let Ventner get it!” exclaimed
Will.

“It won’t do him any good to get it after that
stick of dynamite explodes!” exclaimed Tommy.
“It’ll blow him to Kingdom Come.”

“Well, why don’t we go down and see about it?”
asked Will.

“Not for me!” exclaimed Tommy.

“He may blow his own head off if he wants to,”
Dick cut in, “but he can’t blow off mine, not with
my consent. I’ve got only one head!”

“I don’t believe there’s going to be any explosion
at all!” exclaimed Elmer. “He wouldn’t be apt
to lay a fuse that would burn fifteen or twenty
minutes, and you’ve certainly been that length of
time coming up here, to say nothing of the time we’ve
been talking!”

“All right!” Tommy exclaimed. “Perhaps he
was loading up that pillar with dynamite just for
the fun of it!”

“It would be a nice thing to have him blow that
money out of the pillar and get away with it,
wouldn’t it?” scoffed Will.

“Come on, then,” shouted Tommy, “I can take
you to the firing line in about a minute. If you want
to see an earthquake in a coal mine, just come along
with me! You’ll see it, all right!”

The boys left the old tool house without spending
any more time in conversation, and hastened down
the ladders to the lower level. On the way down the
last gangway they heard some one moving about
in the darkness, and then came a cry of warning.

“Stand clear! Stand clear!”

“That’s Ventner’s voice!” exclaimed Will.

“There’s a blast going off in a minute!” the voice
came again.

“Now we’ve gone and done it!” exclaimed Will.
“After all the trouble we’ve taken to make that
fellow think we’ve left the country, we’ve let him
bump right into us. I wonder if he really has fired
the fuse.”

“Stand clear! Stand clear!” shouted the voice.

Almost before the words had died out, the explosion
came, tearing more than one pillar out of
position and dropping a great mass of slate down on
the floor of the cross-cutting.

For a moment the gases which filled the chambers
were overpowering. The only wonder was that they
were not ignited. The electric lights carried by the
boys shone dimly through the smoke of the confined
place.

“There goes Ventner,” whispered Will, pointing
to a figure moving swiftly through the half-light of
the place.

“He’s going to see what the shot brought down!”
suggested Tommy.

The boys rushed forward in a little group. When
they gathered at the scene of the explosion, the
detective was not there.

“If he got hold of the cash, he knew what to do
with it all right!” exclaimed Tommy. “He got
away with it before we got a chance to see what he
had. Now we’ve got to catch him!”

“May as well look for a needle in a load of hay!”
grumbled Sandy.

“Look here,” Jimmie exclaimed. “There’s a way
to keep him shut up in the mine if we do the right
thing. This cross-cutting runs out to a gangway
on the north, and that, in turn, leads, of course, to
the shaft. Now, one of you boys duck out to the
shaft and see that he doesn’t get up. You’ll have
to go some on the way there, because a man with
two hundred thousand dollars in his pocket will
put up some running match!”

“I’m off!” shouted Tommy. “I know I can get
to the shaft before he can! He’s too fat-bellied to
run, anyway!”

Tommy started away at a swift pace, and the
other boys closed in on the gangway, Will alone
stopping at the scene of the explosion.

“This gangway,” Dick explaimed, “runs back
into the mine for some distance, but there are no
cross passages. I guess the coal wasn’t very good
here. At least, they never spread out the drive.”

“Then we’ve got him bottled up unless he got
out of the shaft!” declared Sandy. “We’ll soon
know whether he got out or not!”

“I don’t believe he would try to get out,” suggested
Elmer. “The chances are that he’d make for
the back of the mine, thinking to hide away with
the plunder, provided he had any plunder to hide
away with.”

“I’m afraid he found the hidden money,” Will
said, taking a scorched ten-dollar bill from a pocket.
“I found this back there, where the pillar fell. I
guess he found the cash all right!”

“And that’s a nice thing, too!” exclaimed Sandy.
“You boys kept saying that Ventner was helping
you find the coin. You were right about that, for
he did find the coin. And now the trick is to get
it away from him!”

“I’d like to know whether Ventner got up the
shaft or not,” suggested George, “and I believe I’ll
take a run up there and see.

“That’s a good idea!” advised Will. “If he
didn’t get up the shaft he’s surely imprisoned in the
gangway. He may be between this cross-cutting
and the shaft, or he may have gone further in!”

“It’ll take a long time to find out about that,”
suggested Jimmie.

Directly Tommy and George were heard returning
from the shaft. They came through the gangway
flashing their lights in every direction.

“He never went up the shaft!” Tommy exclaimed
as they came near. “We’ve got him canned in the
mine all right. If he’s got the money, we’ll take
it away from him! He wouldn’t know what to do
with it, anyway!”

“First,” suggested Will, “we’d better make sure
that the fellow got the money. The bank note
I found may have never been in the possession of
Mr. Carson. And even if it was, it may be the only
one to be blown out of its hiding place by the explosion.
It strikes me that we’d better give the
place a thorough search before we waste much time
looking for Ventner. If, as Tommy says, he never
left the mine by way of the shaft, we’ve got him
blocked in, all right!”

The boys now began a careful examination of the
cross-cutting where the explosion had taken place.
As has been stated, more than one pillar had been
blown out. There was a great heap of debris on
the floor, and this the boys attacked with a vim.

Tommy and George were now standing guard at
the mouth of the cross-cutting so that no one could
pass down the gangway toward the shaft.

“Suppose that fellow did get the money?” asked
Sandy, as the boys cleared away the heaps of slate,
“what then?”

“Then we’ll have to take it away from him!”

“We’ll catch him first.”

“We’ve got him blocked in, haven’t we?” asked
Sandy.

“Oh, we know that he can’t get out,” Dick cut
in, “but we know, too, that there are a lot of shallow
benches along that gangway. We can’t walk in
and pick him out in a minute. Besides,” the boy
continued, “when we find him, we may find his
pockets empty.”

“That’s just what we will do!” Elmer agreed.
“He’ll hide the money in another place, and swear
that he never found it!”

“I wish we’d kicked him out of the mine!” exclaimed
Sandy.

The boys continued their search until daylight,
and then, leaving Tommy and George still on guard,
they went up to the old tool house for breakfast.
The lads were by no means elated over what had
taken place. They believed that Ventner had
succeeded in finding the money, and were certain
that, even if located in the mine, he would deny any
knowledge of it.

“I guess we got you boys into a mess by insisting
on having the detective roaming around,” admitted
Elmer, as the boys were eating a hastily prepared
breakfast. “I guess we should have listened to
you in regard to that. There is no knowing how
much trouble we have made!”

“He may help us find the money after all!”
laughed Will.

“Yes,” cut in Sandy, “it may be easier to get it
away from him than to find the place where it was
hidden.”

“Oh, yes, if we could lay our hands on him and
order him to give up two hundred thousand dollars,
and he would say: ‘Yes, I’ve been waiting to find
the owner,’ that would be all right, too! But the
thing isn’t likely to turn out in that way! He’ll
hide the money, and swear he never found it!
Then, when everything quiets down, he’ll sneak
back and get it!”

This from Jimmie, who seemed to take a rather
gloomy view of the situation. The boys remained
at the old tool house only a short time. Their
minds were fixed so intently on the work in hand
that they hardly knew whether they had had any
breakfast at all.

As they passed down the ladders to the lower
level, they heard something which resembled a
pistol shot, and almost tumbled over each other
getting down into the gangway. Will and Elmer
were first to reach the cross-heading where the
explosion of dynamite had taken place.

They called to Tommy and George, but received
no answer. They walked for some distance down
the gangway without hearing any sound indicating
the presence of their companions, or of any one else.

“Now that’s a funny thing!” exclaimed Will.
“I don’t see why those boys should go rambling
about the mine at a time like this just for the fun
of the thing!”

“They never did!” replied Elmer. “You remember
the shot we heard!”

“It might not have been a shot!” suggested Will.

As the boy spoke he bent over and pointed to
three stones lying on the floor of the gangway.

“There!” he said. “The boys have left a record.
They not only point out the trail, but warn, us that
there is danger in following it!”

Chapter XVIII

TWO HOLD-UP MEN

“That’s Boy Scout talk all right!” exclaimed
Elmer.

“Yes, the three stones, piled one on top of the
other, mean that there is danger in following the
trail. I don’t understand exactly what kind of
danger can be threatening us, and so the only thing
we can do is to go on and find out,” Will said with a
glance backward.

The other boys now came up and a short consultation
was held. It was decided to leave Sandy and
Dick at the point where the explosion had taken
place, while Will, Elmer and Jimmie followed on
down the gangway.

“Now whatever you do,” warned Will as the two
boys were left behind, “don’t leave this gangway
for a minute. If Ventner isn’t out of the mine now,
we don’t want him to get out. He may have the
money or he may not. That is one of the things no
fellow can find out at this time, but whether he has
or not, we want him to give an account of himself
before he leaves the Labyrinth. He’s got several
important questions to answer.”

The boys promised to watch the passage faithfully,
and the others passed on down the gangway, flashing
their lights in every direction and making no pretense
of moving quietly.

“Look here,” Jimmie said after they had proceeded
some distance into the mine and discovered
nothing of importance, “I have in my possession a
great idea! Want to hear about it?”

“Sure!” laughed Will.

“We’re making too much noise.”

“Making too much noise in order to attract the
attention of a couple of lost youngsters?” asked
Elmer.

“They’re not lost!” insisted Jimmie. “They’ve
been lured away or dragged away! We don’t know
how many men were in the mine with Ventner!”

“Well, produce your idea!” Elmer exclaimed.

“Well, my notion is that I ought to go on ahead
of you boys, walking as quietly as possible and without
a light. If there are people waiting to snare us,
they’ll naturally think we’ve bunched our forces
and are all coming along together. Then, you see”,
he continued, “I’ll be right in among them before
they suspect that we have a skirmish line out.”

“That’s an all right notion, kid!” answered Will.

“Then I’ll be on my way,” Jimmie replied. “And
if I need help at any time, I’ll give the call of the
pack!”

“But you mustn’t do that unless you have to,”
Will cautioned, “because, the minute the cry is
heard, everybody within eighty rods would know
what’s going on. Have you matches with you?”

The boy felt in the pockets of his coat and nodded.

“Well, then,” he said, “if you want to signal, wet
your hands and rub the phosphorus off the matches.
Turn your hands, palms in our direction, so no one
can see from the other side and wig-wag.”

“That will be fine!” exclaimed Jimmie. “I’ve
got this wig-wag system down pat. I guess this
Boy Scout training is pretty poor, ain’t it, eh? The
darker it is, the better we can talk!”

Jimmie darted away, while Will and Elmer remained
stationary for a short time in order to give
him an opportunity to get out of the range of their
lights. Directly they heard him whispering back
and listened.

“There’s another stone cairn here!” he said.
“I guess I knocked it over, for I can’t tell exactly
what it is. You can learn that when you come up
with your searchlights! I think there are three
stones.”

“All right!” Will whispered back.

When the boys came to the spot from which tha
voice had been heard they found three stones lying
side by side on the floor of the gangway. It was
plain that they had been placed one on top of the
other, and so they accepted them as another warning
of danger.

“I wish we had some intimation of the kind of
trouble we are likely to get into,” Elmer suggested,
as they passed along. “I don’t like this idea of
boring a hole in the darkness with a little bit of a
light and anticipating an attack at any minute.”

“I don’t like it a little bit myself,” replied Will.

“A person so inclined might shoot us down without
ever showing himself,” declared Elmer. “In
fact, the only protection we have lies in the fact
that Jimmie is on ahead, and would not be likely
to pass any one lying in wait for us. Bright little
boy, that!”

“There he is now!” exclaimed Will. “He’s using
the phosphorus, all right, and I can begin to understand
what he’s trying to say? There’s a ‘W’, and
an ‘A’, and an ‘I’, and a ‘T’. That means that he
wants us to stay where we are. The system works
fine, doesn’t it?”

The question now was as to whether the lads should
extinguish their lights. That, of itself, they understood
would be suspicious in case they should be
in sight of their enemies. It would simply proclaim
their knowledge of the danger they were in, whatever
it was.

“I think we’d better keep the lights going until we
hear something more,” Elmer said. “Jimmie will
talk again in a minute.”

The boys waited patiently for some moments, and
then the wig-wag figures came again. Will read
slowly:

“There’s a ‘V’, and an ‘E’, and an ‘N’, and a ‘T’,
and an ‘N’, and an ‘E’, and an ‘R’,” he said.
“Now the boy’s starting it again. He says,
‘Ventner is here.’ Now wait a minute, there’s more
coming!”

“The next words are: ‘With two others’.”

“It’s only a question of time when that detective
will get next to the wig-wag game,” Elmer declared.
“This gangway smells like a match factory already.
I wonder how far Jimmie is away from them.”

Directly Jimmie began talking the wig-wag
tongue again. This time he said that Tommy and
George were not in sight, and had evidently been surprised
and taken prisoners. He advised Will and
Elmer to come on softly with their lights out.

The boys did as requested, but they had advanced
only a few paces in the darkness when Canfield,
accompanied by Sandy and Dick came running
up, showing both lack of breath and profound excitement.

“Boys,” Canfield called. “Boys!”

“Will!” yelled Sandy.

“I guess they’re going to bust up the whole combination!”
declared Will rather sourly. “I wish
I had them by the neck!”

“They may have important news,” suggested
Elmer. “Anyway, we’ll have to turn on our lights
and meet them. If we don’t, they’ll keep on yelling
all down the gangway!”

Canfield and the two boys came up as soon as
Elmer showed a light, and stood for a moment
looking cautiously about.

“I don’t think you boys ought to go any further
into the mine!” Canfield exclaimed, breathing
heavily from the long chase down the passage. “I
have just received word that two of the most desperate
hold-up men in the country have taken
refuge here. There’s no knowing how they got
over to the mine, but it is a sure thing that they did
get here, for a couple of breaker boys saw them climbing
into the breaker.”

“What time was this?” asked Will.

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Canfield. “The
matter was reported to me early this morning. I
couldn’t find you before, or you should have had
the news sooner. It isn’t safe for you to go into
the mine!”

“Your information,” grinned Will, “comes a
little bit late, but it’s all right, just the same!
Ventner is in there, and there are two men with, him.
It’s a mystery how they made their way in without
being discovered, but it seems that they did so.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Canfield.

“We’re going on into the mine.”

“In the face of my warning?”

“It’s just this way,” answered Will. “We left
two of the boys on guard in this passage, not so
very long ago, and they have disappeared. We
suspect that Ventner and the two men to whom you
refer have good reason to know something of their
whereabouts.”

“They won’t injure the boys!” pleaded Canfield.

“We don’t mean to give them a chance!” insisted
Elmer. “We’re going to jerk those boys out so
quick it’ll make their heads swim!”

“But it’s positively dangerous!” urged the caretaker.

“If there wasn’t an element of danger in the
situation, we wouldn’t be here!” replied Will. “I
don’t see as we need to run away from two hold-up
men, anyway,” the boy went on. “Here are five
boys and one full grown man in the gangway. We
ought to give a pretty good account of ourselves,
in case some one starts anything!”

“Where’s the fifth boy?” asked Canfield. “It
seems to me that you’re getting quite an accumulation
of boys in here!”

“Two of the boys are Jimmie Maynard and Dick
Thompson!” answered Will. “You know you informed
me quite positively not long ago that the
two lads were hundreds of miles from this place by
this time.”

“You might barricade the hold-up men and starve
them out,” suggested Canfield, “that is, if you’re
sure they’re in there!”

“We have just had a wireless from the interior,”
Elmer answered. “There are three men in there,
all right!”

“Well, it won’t take any longer to starve three
out than it would one!” declared Canfield.

“Yes,” Elmer cut in, “and about the first time
the hold-up men got good and hungry, they’d be
sending out Tommy’s ears or one of George’s fingers
just as a warning to us not to meddle with their
appetites.”

Before long Jimmie began wig-wagging again,
but before any words could be formed the waiting
boys heard a distant scuffle, a short, quick cry of
alarm, and then the phosphorus-covered palms disappeared
from sight.

“They’ve got Jimmie!” Elmer said in a tone of
dismay.

“Well, what are we going to do?” demanded
Sandy. “We’ve got to do something right away,
and that’s no story out of the dream book!”

“I don’t suppose it would be of any use to rush
them,” suggested Elmer.

“They’d mow us down like rats!” declared
Dick.

“It strikes me,” Sandy said, “that we’d ought
to get back further and keep out of sight until we
can decide upon some definite plan of action.”

“I’ve got an idea wandering around in the back
of my brain,” Will said. “If the situation is exactly
as I think it is, we may be able to get the best of
those hold-up men after all.”

Chapter XIX

THE MONEY IN SIGHT

“Not while they have possession of the boys,”
Canfield declared, dolefully. “They’ll murder those
boys if we shut off their supplies!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that!” suggested Dick.
“We’ve been mixed up in a great many awkward
situations, but we’ve always managed to save our
necks. We’ll get the boys out in some way!”

“Look here, Mr. Canfield,” Will said, “how well
do you know this mine?”

“Every inch of it!” was the reply.

“Every inch of every level?” asked Will.

“Yes, sir!” replied the caretaker, rather proudly.
“I can go into any part of it without a light!”

“Then look here, Dick,” Will directed. “You
chase back to the old tool house and bring back a
long rope. And when you return, stop at the second
level. Some of us will meet you there.”

“I hope you don’t expect to pull these boys up
through fifty or a hundred feet of shale?” asked
the caretaker.

“I don’t know whether my scheme will work or
not,” Will answered, “but it’s worth trying! We
shall have to leave at least two here, well armed,
and take the others with us. You’ll have to act as
guide, Mr. Canfield, and we’ll meet Dick when he
comes down to the second level with the rope. As
soon as we get the boys out of their trouble, we can
leave the three outlaws in full possession of the mine.
If we watch the shaft at the old tool house, they can
never get out without our knowing it!”

“I don’t understand what you have in mind,”
faltered Canfield.

Leaving Sandy and Elmer in the gangway from
which the wig-wag signals had been shown, the
others hastened up the ladder to the second level.
Then Dick ran away to bring the rope, while
Will questioned the caretaker regarding the fall
between the two levels.

“You remember the old shaft, cut through years
ago, and doubtless deserted when the vein ran out,
which at one time connected the two levels, don’t
you?” asked the boy of the caretaker.

“There is such a place,” replied the caretaker.

“Can you find it?”

“Of course I can.”

“Does the fall open into the system of chambers
in the center or to the north? You understand what
I mean! Is it possible to enter any of the benches
or chambers connecting with the north gangway
on the lower level by means of this deserted shaft?”

“I am not quite certain about that,” replied
Canfield, “but my idea is that the north benches
and chambers can be reached by means of that opening.
I am glad you thought of that,” he went on.

Dick now returned with the rope, and the three
proceeded down the second level until they came
to a confusion of passages and benches which would
certainly have bewildered any one not familiar with
the mine.

“Unless I am very much mistaken,” Canfield
went on, “this passage, the one straight ahead,
runs almost directly over Tunnel Six. If I am right
in this, the deserted shaft is here.”

“And Tunnel Six is the haunted corridor, isn’t
it?” asked Dick.

“That’s where the lights have been seen!” replied
the caretaker.

“You never believed in the ghost stories told
about Tunnel Six?” asked Will. “I should think
you’d begin to see now that the alleged ghosts were
pretty material things.”

“Well, I don’t know about the ghosts,” replied
the caretaker, “but I really was getting a little bit
nervous when you boys arrived. You know,” he
continued, “that we all feel a little shivery when we
butt into anything which we can’t understand.”

“Well, suppose you follow this passage to the end
and see if you discover anything like the deserted
shaft,” suggested Dick.

“You’re not going to venture into the lower
level again, are you?” asked Canfield. “I don’t
blame you boys for wanting to rescue your companions,
but, at the same time, I don’t want to see
you throw your lives away. Those are desperate
men in Tunnel Six!”

“If my idea is worth anything at all,” replied
Will, “we’ll get the boys out without ever letting
the hold-up men know that we are within a mile of
them. You know we had very little difficulty in
getting out of the chamber where we left the boat.”

“Trust you boys for inventing ways of doing
things!” exclaimed Canfield.

“Of course,” Will said hesitatingly after a time,
“it may be that this deserted shaft doesn’t connect
with Tunnel Six, but even if it doesn’t, we’ll find
some way of getting to our friends from the new
position. We can only try, anyway!”

“I’m pretty certain that it connects with Tunnel
Six,” replied the caretaker. “But you mustn’t
show your light when you approach the old shaft,”
he went on, “because if it does connect with the
chamber we seek, and the chamber in turn connects
with the north passage, the robbers will see what
we’re doing.”

“That’s a valuable suggestion!” replied Will.

“I’ll go on ahead,” Canfield continued, “and
find the old shaft. Then you can follow on with
the rope, and one of you boys can drop down and
see what can be discovered.”

“It’s dollars to apples,” chuckled Dick, as the
boys trailed along after the caretaker, “that we
find the three kids trussed up like a lot of hens ready
for the market in the chamber where you came so
near getting wet. I hope we do, at any rate!”

“There’s one thing we overlooked,” Will said as
Canfield whispered to them that he had found the
deserted shaft, “and that is this: We should have
directed the boys in the gangway to have attracted
the attention of the outlaws by a little pistol practice
while we are communicating with our friends. They
may be all packed away in the chamber together.”

“Yes, we should have attended to that,” replied
Dick. “Perhaps I’d better go back now and tell
them to get busy with their automatics.”

“We may as well investigate the situation here
first,” the other answered.

The boys heard the caretaker creeping about in
the darkness, and presently a piece of shale or coal
was heard rattling down the old shaft.

“We’ll have to get that blundering caretaker
away from there,” whispered Will. “If we don’t,
he’ll notify the hold-up men that we’re getting ready
to do something! I’ve heard that about three-fourths
of the people in the world object to doing
anything unless they can take a brass band along,
and I guess it’s true.”

“Say,” Canfield whispered, calling back to the
lads, “when that stone dropped down, I heard
something that sounded like a paddle slapping down
on the water. That room can’t be wet yet, can it?”

“The Beaver call!” whispered Will.

“Right you are!” replied Dick. “The boys
are there, all right!”

“Now the next thing to do is to find out if those
highwaymen are watching them,” declared Will.

“I’ll tell you that in a minute,” Dick whispered.

As the boy spoke, he passed one end of the rope
to Canfield.

“Hang on to it, whatever takes place!” he whispered,
“and I’ll drop down and see what’s going on.”

“You must be very careful,” warned Canfield.

“That’s all right,” answered Dick, “but we
can’t stand here all day figuring out precautions.
We’ve got to know right off whether there’s anyone
in that chamber watching the boys!”

“What a joke it would be to put on a ghost in
Tunnel Six!” laughed Will, in a decidedly cheerful
frame of mind, now that rescue seemed so near.

“Don’t try any foolishness!” advised Canfield.
“Let’s rescue the boys if possible and make our way
out of this horrible place.”

Will crawled to the edge of the shaft with Dick
and whispered as he lowered him into the dark
opening below:

“Remember,” he said, “that Ventner may have
discovered the money. If so, we must secure it
before we leave the place! It will be just like him
to stow the bank notes away in some chamber like
the one you are about to enter. When you strike
bottom, if there is no one in sight except the boys,
turn on your searchlight and take a good look over
the interior of the chamber.

“We were in there not so very long ago, but at
that time we weren’t thinking of making a search
there for hidden money. You’ll have to use your
own judgment about turning on the light, of course.
The outlaws may be out in the gangway, some distance
from the entrance to the chamber, or they may
be within six feet of where the boys are held as
prisoners.”

“Tommy ought to be able to tell me the minute I
strike the heap of shale whether the outlaws are
close by or not!” Dick suggested.

“Of course!” answered Will, “if he knows. If
the men are not in sight, and he doesn’t know where
they are, you’ll simply have to take chances. If
you get caught in there, you’ll have to shoot, and
shoot quick!”

Dick, dropped down into the old shaft and
directly the anxious watchers above heard the rattle
of shale as it dropped from the pyramid under the
opening. Will, still clinging to the rope, lay on his
stomach and peered downward, watching with all
anxiety for some show of light, or some sound which
might indicate the situation below.

Directly Will felt a soft, steady pull at the rope,
and knew that one of the boys was ready to be
assisted to the top.

Dick came up first, chuckling as he landed on the
edge of the break in the rock, and was immediately
followed by Jimmie.

“Where’s Tommy and George?” asked Will in
a whisper.

“They’re down there looking for the money!”

“Looking for the money in the darkness?”

“Sure!” was the reply. “You see,” he went on,
“those ginks tied us up good and tight, and then
threw the money around promiscuous like!”

“So the money is there?” asked Will.

The news seemed too good to be true!

“It was there when we were first thrown into the
chamber,” replied Jimmie, “but I have an idea that
Ventner sneaked in and removed it so as to prevent
his mates getting any share.”

A light flashed out from below, followed immediately
by a pistol shot!

Chapter XX

SANDY IS DISCHARGED

Elmer and Sandy, guarding the gangway variously
called the North section and Tunnel Six, presently
heard voices coming from the direction of the shaft,
and the latter moved back a few paces in order to
inspect the new-comers. In a moment he saw three
rather pompous looking men approaching him, their
footsteps being directed by a man clothed as a miner.

“Here, boy!” shouted one of the pompous men.
“Can you tell me where Canfield, the caretaker of
this mine, may be found?”

“He’s up on the next level,” replied Sandy.

“I was told he was down here,” growled the
speaker, who was very short and fat, and very much
out of breath.

“He was here a little while ago,” answered Sandy.

“What’s the meaning of this show of firearms?”
demanded the fat man, after glancing disdainfully
at the automatic in the boy’s hand.

“We’ve got three robbers cooped up in the mine,”
replied Sandy.

“That’s the old, old story!” exclaimed the fat
man. “I don’t know that I ever knew of a mine
that wasn’t haunted, either by ghosts or robbers!
Mysteries seem to breed in coal mines!”

Sandy walked back to the place where he had left
Elmer, and the three men and their guide followed
him. When Elmer caught a view of the fat man’s
face and figure, he gave a sharp pull at Sandy’s
sleeve.

“That’s Stephen Carson!” he said. “I guess
I’d better keep out of sight, because I don’t care
about getting into an argument with him. He’s
the most contrary person I ever saw in my life, and
never fails to get up an argument about something
or other with yours truly.”

“You seem to know him pretty well,” whispered
Sandy.

“I ought to,” returned Elmer, “he’s my Uncle!
The two tall men in the party are my father and
the cashier of the Night and Day bank. I’ll take
a sneak, and that will shorten the session.”

Accordingly, Elmer strolled along the gangway
and came to a halt some distance from where the
three men had drawn up.

“My boy,” Carson went on, looking condescendingly
at the youth, “will you kindly run up to the
second level and tell Mr. Canfield that his presence
is required by the president of the mining company?”

“I’m not allowed to leave this place, sir,” replied
Sandy, taking offense at the man’s air of proprietorship.

“All persons in and about this mine,” Carson
almost shouted, “are subject to my orders. Run
along now, you foolish boy, find don’t make any
further trouble for yourself!”

The man’s manner was so unnecessarily dictatorial
and offensive that Sandy found it impossible
to retain his temper. He was not naturally a
“fresh” youngster, but now he had passed the limit
of endurance.

“Aw, go chase yourself!” he said.

“You’re discharged!” shouted Carson.

“You didn’t hire me!” retorted Sandy. “You
haven’t got any right to discharge me! I’m going
to stay here until I get ready to leave!”

“If you don’t get out of the mine immediately,
I’ll have you thrown out!” shouted Carson. “I
never saw such impudence!”

“If I do get out,” replied Sandy with a grin,
“you’ll wish I hadn’t!”

Carson turned to Elmer’s father and the bank
cashier, and the three consulted together for a short
time. Then Elmer’s father came closer to where
Sandy was standing.

“Why do you say that?” he asked. “Why do you
think we will wish you had remained in case you are
sent out of the mine?”

“Because I was left here to prevent robbers getting
out of the gangway. They’re further in, and
have captured three of my chums.”

“All nonsense!” shouted Mr. Carson breaking
into the conversation impatiently. “These breaker
boys never tell the truth!”

“Are you Mr. Buck?” asked Sandy, speaking in
an undertone to Elmer’s father. “Because if you
are, you’ll find Elmer just a short distance ahead.
He’s on guard, too. He didn’t want his uncle to
recognize him, because he says he’s always getting
up an argument with him.”

“I’m glad to know that Elmer is attending to
his duty,” Mr. Buck answered. “Somehow,” he
continued with a smile, “Stephen Carson always
rubs Elmer the wrong way of the grain.”

“What’s he butting in here for?” asked Sandy,
while the cashier of the Night and Day bank and
the miner stood by waiting for the peace negotiations
to conclude.

“Why, he came in to get his two hundred thousand
dollars!” replied Mr. Buck. “He thinks he knows
How right where he left it.”

“Does he often get foolish in the head like that?”
asked Sandy with a grin. “If he does, he ought to
hire a couple of detectives to keep track of him when
he goes wandering out in the night!”

“Oh, Stephen is usually a pretty level-headed
sort of a fellow!” replied Mr. Buck. “He is out of
humor just now because he has always denied that
he visited the mine during his two weeks of absence.
He is one of the men who dislike very much to be
caught in an error of any kind.”

“So he knows where the money is?” asked Sandy.

“He says he can find it if he can secure the services
of Canfield, the caretaker. He remembers now of
getting in the mine, and of hearing footsteps in the
darkness. His impression at that time was that
robbers had followed him in, so he unloaded the
banknotes in a small chamber which he is now able
to describe accurately but which he cannot, of
course, find.”

“Was the money hidden on this level?” asked
Sandy.

“Yes, on this level.”

“In this gangway?”

“He thinks it was hidden here.”

“Right about here, or further on?”

“Why,” was the answer, “he seems to remember
something about Tunnel Six. He thinks he hid the
money there! As soon as he finds Canfield, the
caretaker will probably be able to tell him exactly
how Tunnel Six looks.”

“It looks all in a mess right now! I can tell you
that,” grinned Sandy.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that there’s been doings here!” replied
Sandy.

“Are there really robbers in there?”

“Sure, there are robbers in there!”

“Then perhaps we’d better bring in a squad of
deputies.”

“If you’ll just let us boys alone,” Sandy said,
“we’ll bring the money out if it’s anywhere in the
mine, but if this man Carson goes to butting in at
this time, he’ll have to dig out his own money. He
won’t believe there’s any robbers in there, and he
wants to fire me out of the mine, so I guess we’d
better let him go his own gait a little while.”

“He’ll do that anyhow no matter what you say!”
replied Mr. Buck.

“Look here!” shouted Carson, starting forward,
with his stomach out and his fat shoulders thrown
back, “what’s all this conversation about? Why
don’t some one go up and get Canfield, and why isn’t
that young rowdy thrown out of the mine? I
won’t have him in here!”

“Say,” Sandy broke in, “Mr. Buck says that
you’re looking for Tunnel Six. If you are, I can show
you right where it is!”

“Do so, then!” shouted Carson.

“Go straight ahead,” Sandy directed, “and when
the robbers begin to shoot, you command them to
throw down their weapons in the name of the law.
They’ll probably do it, all right, if you tell them to,
but you’ll be lucky if they don’t throw them down
your throat!”

“Do you mean to tell me,” screamed Carson,
“that there are actually robbers here, and that they
have taken possession of Tunnel Six?”

“That’s the idea,” replied Sandy.

“Why, that’s where I put my——”

“That’s where you put your money, is it?” Sandy
went on.

“I never saw such impudence!” reared Carson.

“Well, go on and get your money!” advised
Sandy. “Just go straight down the gangway until
you come to a face of rock and then switch off to the
left, and you’ll find yourself in a chamber used at
present by robbers and hold-up men as a winter
resort.”

“Oh you can’t frighten me!” declared Carson.
“I believe that you’re here in quest of the money
yourself!”

“That’s right!” admitted Sandy. “Go on in,
now, and tell the robbers to give up your hoarded
gold! Just butt in, and tell ’em what you want them
to do! They’ll probably do just as you tell them to!”

“I never saw such impudence in my life!” roared
Carson, wiping his perspiring forehead with a large
red silk handkerchief.

“I don’t see where the impudence comes in!”
replied Sandy. “You said you wanted to find
Tunnel Six in order that you might locate your
money. I’m telling you where it is, and what to do
to get it!”

“Old Stephen never took a bluff in his life!”
chuckled Mr. Buck, “Now see if he doesn’t go
stalking down that passage and declaring himself
in the name of the law!”

The banker did exactly what Mr. Buck had predicted.
He went storming down the passage, giving
notice to all intruders to walk out of his mine in a
peaceable manner. Mr. Buck followed along until
he came to where Elmer was standing with his back
against the wall, and then the two paused and
entered into conversation. The cashier of the
Night and Day bank and the miner started back
toward the shaft.

“What’s the matter?” shouted Sandy. “Why
don’t you stay and see the fun? There’ll be shooting
here directly!”

The miner and the cashier now took to their heels
and were soon out of sight. Every moment the boy
expected to see a flash of fire in the gangway. Carson
was now very near to Tunnel Six, and it seemed
certain that the outlaws must soon open fire on him.

“Come back, Stephen!” shouted Mr. Buck.
“Don’t make a fool of yourself!”

“This is all pure bluff!” shouted Carson. “There
are no robbers here at all. This is a scheme to keep
me out of Tunnel Six, where I believe my money to
be hidden!”

They saw Carson halt in his rather clumsy passage
down the gangway, and draw an automatic revolver
from his pocket.

There was a quick shot and the banker rushed
ahead!

Chapter XXI

“I TOLD YOU SO!”

Directly Elmer, Sandy and Mr. Buck heard the
banker shouting at the top of his lungs and dashed
on toward the mysterious tunnel.

“He’ll get his head shot off in there!” exclaimed
Sandy.

“I don’t care if he does!” declared Elmer.

“Your uncle isn’t such a bad old fellow, after all,”
Mr. Buck exclaimed. “He has plenty of courage, at
any rate!”

“But I don’t understand why they don’t open fire
on him!” exclaimed Sandy. “The robbers certainly
were in there not very long ago. We heard the
scuffle when they geezled Jimmie.”

“Who fired that shot?” asked Mr. Buck.

“Uncle Stephen did,” replied Elmer. “I saw the
flash spring out from the spot where he stood!”

“Well, what do you know about that?” exclaimed
Sandy. “The old chap is actually making his bluff
good! He’s getting into Tunnel Six single handed
and alone! I guess we’ll have to advertise for those
three outlaws if we find ’em in here! He’s a nervy
old fellow, isn’t he?”

The three now followed fast on the heels of the
banker, and soon came to where he stood swinging
his searchlight at the end of a short drift which
ended, after sliding under a dip, in a chamber which
at first glance seemed to be piled high with a mass of
shale.

While the three looked on, Carson dropped on his
knees beside a crevice in the wall and began an eager
exploration of the opening.

Directly he sprang to his feet with rage and disappointment
showing on every feature of his face.
He raved about the cluttered chamber for a moment,
almost dancing up and down in his anger and chagrin,
and then sat limply down on the pile of shale.

“It’s gone!” he said. “The money’s gone!”

“So it wasn’t hidden back there in that cross-cutting
at all?” asked Sandy. “We thought sure
we had a cinch on the coin several hours ago!”

“It was hidden here in this chamber!” declared
Carson wearily. “The minute I entered the place
I remembered where I had hidden it. And now it’s
gone! I’ve had all my trouble for nothing.”

As he ceased speaking, he glanced suspiciously at
Sandy. And Sandy, in turn, made a most provoking
face.

“I believe you know something about my money!”
Carson said.

“Sure I do!” replied Sandy.

“Then where is it?”

“The robbers got it!”

“That’s a nice story to tell,” howled Carson. “If
you think I’m going to be defrauded out of my
money in this way, you’re very much mistaken!”

Without paying any further attention to tha
threats of the banker, Sandy stepped over to Elmer’s
side and pointed up the deserted shaft.

“There’s where the robbers went,” he said, “and
they doubtless took Carson’s money with them. I
don’t understand why Will didn’t stop them.”

“Will and George probably released their friends
and went away,” complained Elmer. “I don’t think
they showed very good judgment in doing that,
either. The result is that the money has now disappeared
entirely. A short time ago, Uncle might
have reclaimed it.”

“We don’t know whether the money has gone beyond
recall or not,” replied Sandy. “I don’t believe
Will and George ever left the old shaft unguarded.
They are still somewhere in this vicinity!”

Carson now blustered up to Sandy and pointed
an accusing finger into the lad’s face. Sandy regarded
him with indifference.

“Now that your story of the robbers has been disproved,”
Carson shouted, “you may as well tell me
who took my money. If I had not the courage to
make this investigation in person, that cheap story
of the robbers would have held good for all time!”

“That’s a horse on me, all right!” admitted Sandy.
“I don’t know where the robbers are, unless they
went up through that old shaft, and it doesn’t seem
as if the boys would permit that!”

“Too thin! Entirely too thin!” declared Carson.
“A moment ago you tried to tell me that the money
wasn’t hidden near Tunnel Six at all, but was hidden
back there near the cross-cutting.”

“We had good reason to believe it was hidden
there!” replied Sandy. “We found a burned ten-dollar
banknote there just after a dynamite explosion
had taken place.”

“That would naturally lead to the supposition that
the money had been hidden there!” Mr. Buck exclaimed.

“Come to think of it,” Sandy went on, “I believe
that was one of Ventner’s tricks. I believe he blew
down those pillars and burned the banknote for the
express purpose of making us search two or three
weeks in the wrong place. I guess we have under-estimated
that fellow’s ability. He’s a keener man
than I supposed!”

“I don’t quite see the point to that,” Elmer suggested.
“When you say that Ventner probably
caused you to dig in the wrong place, you admit
that he must have known something about the right
place. Now, how could he have known anything
about where to look for that money?”

“I don’t know,” replied Sandy. “But when you
say that he might have known exactly where to look,
you set him down as a fool, because he has been
searching a long time and never came upon it until
today.”

“I think I can understand that,” Mr. Buck said.
“This man you speak of probably knew where to find
the money provided he could discover the right
drift, bench, chamber or tunnel. Like Mr. Carson,
here, he could doubtless go straight to the cache if
directed into the right apartment.”

While the four stood together at the bottom of
the chamber, their searchlights making the place as
light as day, an exclamation came from the shaft
above, followed by two pistol shots.

Carson dropped to his knees and began twisting
at his automatic, which had in some way become
entangled in the lining of his pocket.

“There are your robbers!” he shouted. “Put
out your lights!”

“Don’t you do anything of the kind!” argued
Sandy. “Get out of range of the old shaft and keep
your lights burning so you can shoot any one who
drops down! I guess we have them hemmed in!”

“It’s a scheme to get away with my money!”
shouted Carson.

“I wish you had your old money chucked down
your throat!” exclaimed Sandy. “I’m getting sick
of the sound of the word!”

All members of the party now drew back toward
the dip, where they were entirely concealed from any
one in the old shaft.

Directly there was a rattling of shale and slate,
and then the lights showed the figure of Tommy
sitting astride the peak of the pyramid.

“What you fellows trying to do down there?” he
asked.

“We’re looking for Carson’s money?” replied
Sandy.

“Did you get it?” the boy demanded.

“Not yet!”

“That’s the boy that’s got my money!” shouted
the banker.

“Money’s a good thing to have!” grinned Tommy.

“What have you done with the highwaymen?”
asked Sandy.

“Why continue this senseless talk about highwaymen?”
demanded Carson, “when you know just as
well as I do that there are no robbers here other than
yourselves! Mr. Buck,” he added, turning to
Elmer’s father, “I call upon you to assist me in restraining
these robbers until the proper officers can
be summoned.”

“Where did that fat man come from?” asked
Tommy.

“You impertinent rascal!” shouted Carson.

“Sure!” answered Tommy. “But where did you
say you came from?”

“I’m president of this mining company!” screamed
Carson, “and I’ll have you all in jail if you don’t
produce my money!”

“Is this the gentleman who went batty and lost
two hundred thousand dollars?” asked Tommy, sliding
down from the slate pyramid and standing beside
Sandy.

“That is believed to be the man!” laughed Sandy.

“Believed to be!” roared Carson.

“Does he know where he left the money?” asked
Tommy.

“Sure I know where I left my money, you young
jackanapes!” declared Carson. “I pointed out the
exact hiding place only a few moments ago!”

“You found it empty?”

“Yes, I found it empty,” roared Carson.

“Then,” Tommy suggested, “we’ve all got to get
busy.”

“What do you mean by that?” demanded Carson.

Before Tommy could reply, Will came sliding down
the rope and landed within a few feet of where the
little group stood.

“Look here, Will,” Tommy said, “are you sure
we made a good search of those three ginks? They’ve
got the money all right!”

“How do you know they did?” demanded Will.

“That fat man over there who looks as if he was
about to bust,” Tommy grinned, “is Mr. Carson, the
man who hid the money and couldn’t find it again.
He’s just been looking in the place where he concealed
it, and it isn’t there! We’ve got to get
busy!”

“I don’t understand this at all,” Mr. Buck interrupted.

“It’s just this way,” Will said, facing the speaker
“we caught the three men who were wandering about
in the mine. We rescued our chums first, and then
when the outlaws heard your party advancing they
scrambled up the old shaft, and took to their heels
supposing, of course, that we had lost no time in
getting out of the mine.”

“And you geezled them all?” asked Sandy.

“The whole three!” replied Will. “All we had to
do was to stretch a rope across a passage, trip them
up, and do a little winding around their geezled
forms before they could get their breath. They’re
all tied up good and tight now.”

“And you searched them for the money and didn’t
find it?” shouted Carson.

“And we searched them for the money and didn’t
find it!” repeated Will.

“I don’t believe it!” shouted Carson. “You’ll be
telling me in a moment, when I ask you to produce
your robbers, that they have broken their bonds and
escaped!”

At that moment, George’s voice was heard calling
down the shaft:

“Break for the main shaft!” they heard him saying.
“Head those fellows off! They cut their ropes
and got away!”

“I told you so!” thundered Carson.

Chapter XXII

CONCLUSION

“Bright boys up there!” exclaimed Will, as the
unwelcome news of the escape of the robbers came
down the old shaft.

“Me for the elevator!” shouted Tommy.

All four boys, Will, Elmer, Tommy and Sandy,
started in a mad race down the gangway. As they
carried their searchlights with them, and as Mr.
Carson and Mr. Buck moved at a slower pace, the
latter gentlemen were soon feeling their way through
a dark tunnel.

“We’ve just got to head ’em off!” grunted Tommy,
as the boys passed along at a pace calculated to
break the long distance running records.

“I don’t believe they’ll make for the main shaft
anyway,” Sandy panted.

“I don’t believe they will, either,” Will declared,
“but if we get to the lift first, we’ll be dead sure
they don’t get out!”

Will was in advance as they swung into the lighted
space about the shaft. The first thing he observed
was that one of the cages was just starting upward.
He sprang to the push button and almost instantly
the cage dropped back to the third level again. The
power was on in honor of the visit of the president of
the company.

“Pile in, boys!” he shouted. “We’ll stop at the
second level!”

The man at the top responded nobly to the quick
signals given to start and stop, and in a very short
space of time the elevator stood at the second level.
The bar was down, but Will threw it aside and
stepped out into the passage. There he saw the
bank cashier and the miner standing cowering against
the wall only a few feet from the shaft.

“What are you doing here?” asked Will.

“We started to the top,” the miner replied, “but
stopped here because we thought there might be need
of our assistance on this level.”

“Why on this level?” asked Will, observing that
the miner was pretty thoroughly frightened. “I
haven’t heard of any disturbance here!”

“But there has been a disturbance here!” insisted
the cashier. “We heard scuffling out there in the
darkness, but as we had no lights, we could not
investigate. My friend, the miner, had a light on
the lower level, but he lost it as we made our way out
to the shaft.”

“Has any one passed up the shaft?” asked Will.

The miner shook his head.

“Then we’re in time all right!” cried Will exultantly.
“We have the outlaws headed off!”

The heavy voices of the two men who had been
left on the lower level now came rumbling up the
shaft.

“What do you mean by leaving us in this plight?”
demanded Carson. “Lower the cage instantly, and
take us to the top!”

“Stay down there and look after your money!”
cried Sandy, mockingly.

“I think I know where my money is!” shouted
Carson.

“I wish I knew!” returned Sandy.

In the moment of silence which followed the boys
heard the call of the Beaver Patrol ringing down the
second level.

“George seems to be alive anyway!” laughed
Tommy.

A moment later a snarling sound which seemed to
emanate from a whole pack of Wolves reached the
ears of the boys.

“Why didn’t you tell me there were wild animals
in the mine?” shouted the cashier. “Let me into
that cage immediately!”

“Don’t be in a hurry,” advised Tommy. “All
the Wolves and Beavers you’ll find in here won’t do
you any harm!”

While Carson and Elmer’s father continued to call
from below, and while the Boy Scout challenges rang
in the second level, two pistol shots were heard not
far away from the shaft.

The cashier and the miner both broke for the cage,
but were turned back at the point of Sandy’s automatic
revolver.

“You stopped here because you thought you might
be of some assistance, you know,” the boy said.
“Now you just remain here long enough to help
out.”

“But there are people being murdered in there!”
cried the cashier.

Two more shots eame from the gangway and then
the stout figure of the detective came staggering into
the circle of light around the shaft. He had evidently
been wounded seriously, for he fell as he drew
near to where the boys were standing and raised his
eyes in a piteous appeal for help. Will stooped over
and felt his pulse.

“You’re about done for!” the boy said in a husky
tone. “Who did it?”

“Those two hold-up men,” was the faint reply.

“Where are they now?” asked Will.

“I fired back,” replied the detective with a grim
smile, “and I guess they’re lying on the floor of the
passage!”

Will bent closer over the wounded detective while
Tommy and Sandy started down the gangway on a
run, closely followed by Elmer.

“Why did they shoot you?” asked Will.

“I found the money,” Ventner replied, “and hid
it in a crevice in the wall, and they found it. When
we managed to escape by cutting the ropes I saw
them take the money and disappear in the darkness.
I followed on and accused them of the act and they
shot me! Then I shot back, and I guess it’s a pretty
bad mess, when you take it altogether!”

“Where is the money?” asked Will.

“They have it in their possession,” was the reply,
“if they haven’t hidden it again.”

Before the wounded detective could continue,
George, Jimmie, Dick, Canfield, Sandy and Tommy
came running out of the gangway.

“Where’s Elmer?” asked Will.

“We left him back there talking with one of the
hold-up men,” replied George. “They’re both
badly hurt, and won’t last long!”

“I’m not sorry!” moaned Ventner.

A moment later, Elmer came out of the passage
with a bill-book of good size in his hand. He lifted
the book gaily as he entered the illumination.

“I’ll bet he’s got the money!” exclaimed Tommy.

“Sure he has!” replied Will, and Elmer nodded.

The voices of Carson and Buck again came roaring
up from below.

“Why don’t you lower the cage?” Carson shouted.
“I’m going to have every one of you arrested as soon
as I can find an officer! You can’t work any of your
gold brick schemes on me!”

“We may as well drop down and take them
aboard,” Will laughed.

Carson was swelling with rage when he stepped
onto the platform of the list. He shook his fist
fiercely under Will’s nose, and announced that he
would have him wearing handcuffs before night.

“How much reward was offered for the return of
that two hundred thousand dollars?” asked the boy,
without paying any attention to the angry demonstrations
of the banker.

“Twenty thousand dollars!” replied Carson. “But
you’ll never get a cent of it. I hired a party of Boy
Scouts to come here from Chicago and look into the
case, but they never came near me.”

“When you write to Chicago again,” Will replied,
with a smile as the elevator stopped at the second
level, “just tell Mr. Horton that the Beaver’s didn’t
succeed in getting the money, but that the Wolves
did. Elmer has the money in his possession right
this minute!”

“Impossible!” shouted Carson.

“Hand him the money, Elmer,” requested Will.

Carson snatched the bill book as it was held out to
him and began looking through the ten-thousand-dollar
banknotes which it contained.

“The next time you get drunk and fall out of your
machine, don’t accuse every one you meet of robbing
you!” Sandy cut in.

“Are you the boys who came on from Chicago?”
demanded Carson.

“Sure!” replied Will.

“I guess I’m an old fool!” admitted Carson.
“Here I’ve been roaming around about half a day
accusing you boys of stealing my money, when all
the time you were planning on returning it to me!”

“Do we get the reward now?” asked Will.

“Twenty thousand and expenses!” replied Carson.
“I’ll settle with Elmer and his chums later on!”

“It’s a shame to take the money!” declared
Sandy, but Will gave him a sharp punch in the back
and he cut off any further remarks which he might
have had in his mind.

The story ends here because the adventure ended
with the finding of the money. The old tool house
was deserted that night. The two hold-up men and
the detective recovered after a long illness in a Pittsburgh
hospital. The detective was permitted to go
his way after promising to keep out of crooked detective
deals in the future. He never told how or
where he received his information about the lost
money. The hold-up men were given long sentences
in prison.

A few weeks later, when the mining company resumed
operations at the Labyrinth, Tunnel Six was
walled up. Mr. Carson, the president, declared
that it made what few hairs he had left stand on end
to think of the experiences he had endured there!

However, there are still stories about the breaker,
that on dark nights, when the wind blows, and the
rain falls in great sheets, there are mysterious lights
floating about Tunnel Six.

Jimmie and Dick often tell exactly how these lights
were made, and how they enjoyed themselves living
down in the bowels of the earth, but the superstitious
miners still claim that the boys were not responsible
for all the lights which burned there!

Dick and Jimmie also have their joke with the
Beaver Patrol boys whenever they meet, declaring
that if they had not finally relented and dropped the
string the boys had carried into the mine for their
own protection, they would still be wandering around
in the Labyrinth Mine.

“And now,” Will said as they settled down in
their old room on Washington boulevard, “we’re
going to be good boys from this time on and remain
in Chicago and stay at home nights!”

However, in three days, the boys were preparing
for another bit of adventure, the details of which
will be found in the next volume of this series entitled:

“Boy Scouts in Alaska; or, The Camp on the
Glacier.”

THE END.

Boy Scouts in Alaska

Or, The Camp on the Glacier

CONTENTS

Chapter I

UNDER SEALED ORDERS

An August night in Alaska.

To the North, the tangle of the Chugach Mountains;
to the East, Bering Glacier; to the South, the
purple waters of the Gulf of Alaska; to the West,
Prince William Sound. All around, the grandeur
of a world in the making—high mountains, rugged
summits, deep cut valleys, creeping glaciers.

In a log cabin standing in the center of a small
forested moraine four boys of about seventeen were
grouped together. The one door and the two
windows of the structure were covered with mosquito
wire. The hum of insect life came into the
room with the monotony of the murmur of the sea.
Although it was after ten o’clock in the evening, the
sun still rode high above the horizon.

A few hundred feet from the outer edge of the ice-cliff,
the forested moraine became a “dead” glacier.
When a glacier advances no longer, but draws back
year by year, it is said to be “dead.” The live
glacier is simply a river of ice pouring down precipices
and into gorges and fiords.

As a matter of fact, the log cabin was built upon a
glacier, for under the luxuriant summer undergrowth,
under the flowers, and under the bright green of the
hemlocks, lay a great bed of ice which, however, was
slowly receding. In times gone by the current of ice
had flowed into the Gulf of Alaska, but now, because
of drainage in another direction, the glacial ice swept
off to the west, in the direction of Copper river.

The four boys in the cabin had just finished supper,
the cooking having been done over a gasoline
“plate,” and they were now discussing the advisability
of spending the remaining hour of daylight in
the investigation of the strange, wild land in which
they now found themselves.

Two days before they had landed at Katalla, and
had spent the intervening time in transferring their
supplies to the log house on the glacier. They had
traveled northward by the inland route, and landed
in the vicinity of Controller bay, bringing with them
provisions sufficient for a long stay in the wonderful
North.

Those who have read the previous volumes of this
series will well remember the adventures of Will
Smith, Charley (Sandy) Green, George Benton and
Tommy Gregory. After startling experiences among
the Pictured Rocks of Old Superior, in the mysterious
swamps of the Everglades, in the rocky caverns of
the Continental Divide, amidst the snows of the
Hudson Bay wilderness, and in the coal caverns of
the Pennsylvania anthracite region, they had decided
to spend a portion of the summer in Alaska.
They had reached Controller bay without serious
accident, and now found themselves in one of the
most picturesque sections of the great territory,
with plenty of provisions and ammunition.

The lads were all dressed in the khaki uniform of
the Boy Scouts of America, the badges showing
membership in the Beaver Patrol of Chicago. Their
coat sleeves showed medals proclaiming the fact
that they had passed examinations and were well
qualified to serve as Stalkers, Seamen, Pioneers, or
in the Ambulance squad. The pennant of the
Beaver Patrol flew above the door of the cabin.

Tommy Gregory separated himself from, the group
about the supper table and walked to the heavily-screened
doorway. His face was covered by an
Alaska head-net, and he wore a pair of strong leather
gloves.

“Why didn’t some of you boys tell me that the
mosquitos here are as large as robins?” he asked.

“Because they are only half as large,” replied
Sandy Green with a grin.

“If some one will hand me my gun off the table,”
Tommy went on, with a wrinkling of his freckled nose,
“I’ll shoot one, and we can have him for supper!
One of the outlaws ought to make a good meal for
us four!”

“Better do the killing with a handspike,” advised
Sandy, “for we haven’t any ammunition to throw
away. Besides,” the boy went on, “I don’t believe
a thirty-eight would kill one of these wild animals,
anyway!”

“Up on the Yukon,” George Benton interrupted,
“when they sentence a man to death, they don’t
hang him. They send him down the river in an
open canoe, and give the mosquitos a crack at
him!”

“You stated that in the way of an exaggeration,”
Will Smith suggested, “but it is the absolute truth,
for all that! Men lost among the nigger-heads have
been found later on with their bones picked dry.”

“What’s a nigger-head?” asked Tommy.

“A nigger-head is a bog,” was the reply. “When
I say a bog, I don’t mean a swampy hole, either. I
mean a grassy knoll sticking up out of a swamp full
of mud. If you keep on the bogs, or nigger-heads,
you are reasonably safe, but if you drop down into
the mud, you are likely to go in over your head.”

“How far down does this mud go?” demanded
Sandy.

“Down to the ice,” replied Will. “This entire
country,” he went on, “is lined with ice! Ten or
twelve feet below the foundation of this cabin, the
ice is almost as hard as steel. Sometimes the earth-crust
over the ice is a foot thick, and sometimes it is
ten feet.”

“Are those brilliant flowers growing over a
glacier?” asked Tommy, pointing to a group of violets
growing not far away.

“Sure!” replied Will. “If it wasn’t for the ice,
there wouldn’t be any violets here. The glacier
supplies water as well as soil.”

“What’d you say about going up to the end of the
moraine?” asked Sandy, joining Tommy at the
screened door of the cabin.

“Isn’t it quite a climb?” asked Will.

“It isn’t so very steep,” replied Tommy, “but the
way seems to be rather rocky. I’d like to know where
all these round stones come from!”

“They are brought down by the glacier ice and
rounded into shape by the same force which discharges
the ice stream into the gulf. There is always
a line of moraine at each side of a glacier, and usually
several ridges in the middle of it. Those at the edge
are called lateral moraines, those in the middle,
medial moraines, and those at the end, terminal
moraines. And that’s about all I know of Alaska,”
Will added, with a smile.

The lads passed up the moraine for some distance,
until, in fact, they came to a point where vegetation
became thinner, and hemlocks of smaller growth.
Then they turned toward the west and stood for a
long time watching the yellow glory of the sunset.

But the heat of day passes swiftly in Alaska when
the direct rays of the sun fail, and so the boys were
soon glad to return to their cabin, which they had
found standing unoccupied.

“I’d like to know the history of this old shack,”
Sandy said, as they paused in the gathering darkness
at the doorway.

“There’s no knowing how long it has stood here,
waiting for us to come and gladden its dirty old walls
with our presence and our scrubbing brushes!”
laughed Tommy. “I’ve seen a good many cleaner
cabins in my life!”

“And there is no knowing how many tragedies
have been enacted here, either!” exclaimed George.
“It must have witnessed many a queer sight!”

“It must have been built within a year or two,”
Will observed, “for the logs do not yet show decay.”

“What I can’t get through my noodle,” George
said, with a puzzled look, “is why any one should
construct such a habitable little cabin in this out of
the way spot, and then go away and leave it. We
must be at least twelve or fifteen miles from the
nearest neighbor.”

“We’re farther than that,” observed Sandy, “judging
from the time it took us to row our supplies over
from the floating dock where we landed. I hope
we’ll be ready to go out by the time our provisions
run short.”

“Look here, Will,” Tommy questioned, “did Mr.
Horton direct you to this exact spot, or did he only
tell you to locate somewhere in this vicinity? You
never told us what he said.”

“He told me,” was the guarded reply, “that I
might be able to find a deserted cabin on this
moraine.”

“And he told you right where to find the moraine?”
asked Sandy.

“Of course he did!”

“And you said nothing to us about that, either,”
complained Tommy. “You’re always holding something
back from us!”

“Well, now that we’re here,” George suggested,
“perhaps Will can be coaxed into telling us exactly
what we’re here for.”

“I should say so!” exclaimed Tommy. “We don’t,
know at the present moment whether we’re here to
trap brown bears, or to box and ship Northern Lights
to the eastern markets.”

“Don’t get sarcastic, boys!” replied Will. “I
was instructed by Mr. Horton to communicate to
you all the information in my possession on our first
night in camp, and I’m ready right now to obey
orders. Shall we go inside? The bugs are pretty
thick out here!”

“I should say so!” shouted Tommy. “I’m pretty
well hedged in from the blooming insects,” he went
on, “but it makes me nervous to hear them blowing
their dinner horns every minute.”

“Gee!” exclaimed Sandy. “Whenever I get into
this anti-mosquito rig, I feel like an armored train!”

Twilight lay heavy over the landscape now, and
so the boys were confronted by a dark interior as
they stepped into the cabin.

“Who’s got a searchlight handy?” asked Will.

Tommy replied that he would have a light on in a
second, but before the finger of light from the electric
shot into the room, Will half fell over a yielding figure
which lay on the floor not for away from the table.

Then the circle of light, thrown hastily down,
rested upon the white, drawn face of a boy not far
from sixteen years of age. There was a little showing
of blood on the floor, and his eyes were tightly
closed, indicating that he had been rendered unconscious
by a wound.

The lad was dressed in the khaki uniform of the
Boy Scouts of America, and the badge on his hat
showed that he was Leader of the Fox Patrol.

A long envelope torn open at one end and bearing
the name of Will Smith, lay empty by the lad’s side.

“Where did he come from?” cried Tommy, “and
who is he?”

“Must have dropped out of the sky!” declared
Sandy.

Chapter II

THE PRINT OF A THUMB

“The Fox Patrol!” exclaimed George. “I wonder
if that means the Fox Patrol of Chicago? It doesn’t
seem to me that this kid could have followed on our
heels across the continent!”

Will lifted the torn envelope from the floor and
examined it critically.

“That’s your name isn’t it?” asked Sandy looking
over his shoulder.

“It certainly is!” replied Will.

“Well, you’ve got the address left, anyhow!”
said George.

“Say,” Tommy suggested, opening his eyes very
wide, “some gink followed the boy here, bumped
him on the coco, and stole the communication! I
reckon we’re getting into the center of population
again. Here we are, several hundred miles from nowhere,
and we’ve unearthed an innocent messenger
and a bold highwayman already!”

“Have you any idea what the stolen paper contained?”
asked George.

“Not the slightest!” replied Will.

“Wasn’t it arranged that Mr. Horton should
communicate with you after we reached this point?”
asked Sandy.

“Certainly not!” was the reply. “He gave me full
instructions before we left Chicago. If I found a
deserted cabin at this point, I was to make camp
here. If I did not, I was to keep along the coast
toward Bering Glacier until I discovered one answering
this description.”

“But where did this kid come from?” insisted
Tommy. “How did he ever get here all by his
lonely? We had two guides to help us in, and it
seems that he came alone, that is, as far as we can
see.”

“I don’t think he came alone!” replied Sandy
pointing to the wound on the boy’s head. “He never
got a bump like that in a fall!”

“Oh, we’ll have to wait until the kid wakes up!”
Tommy cut in. “We’d better be doing something
to help him out of his trance, instead of standing
here guessing. He may be badly hurt!”

The limp figure was lifted from the floor and
placed on one of the bunks fastened to the wall of
the cabin. The lad groaned slightly as the change
was made, but did not open his eyes.

“I guess he got a bad bump,” Will suggested.
“And I’m sorry to say that his wound requires a piece
of surgery far beyond my ability to perform. I’m
afraid we’ll have to send out for a doctor!”

The boys used every means within their knowledge
to bring the lad back to consciousness, but all
their efforts proved unavailing. The lad lay in a
comatose condition long after all their resources had
failed.

So busily engaged were the boys in their efforts at
resuscitation that they did not for a moment remember
that they, themselves, might be in danger
from the same hand which had struck down the boy.

As they worked over the lad, bathing the wound
with hot water and endeavoring to force stimulating
drinks between the set teeth, they did not observe
a bearded face was pressed for a moment against a
window pane. It was an evil face, and was gone
on the instant.

After three hours of steady exertion, the boys relaxed
their efforts and sat down to consider the
situation. They had searched the boy’s clothing,
but had found nothing giving a clue to his name or
residence.

“Right out of the air!” exclaimed Sandy. “If we
should blunder into a camp devoid of a mystery, we’d
have to move out or die of suffocation!”

“I’d like to know who the boy is, and where he
came from,” Will said, after a short pause, “but the
principal question now is this: What was in the paper
that was stolen from the envelope?”

“Probably some information directed to you,”
suggested Tommy.

“Undoubtedly,” Will answered.

“And now, instead of coming into your hands,”
George remarked, “the warning, or the command, or
whatever you may call it, passes over to the man who
attempted murder in order to secure it!”

“That’s just the size of it!” Tommy agreed.

“It strikes me,” George suggested, “that we’d
better set a guard through the rest of the night. The
fellow who struck this blow may be waiting to strike
another!”

“How long were we gone from the cabin?” asked
Will.

“Less than an hour,” replied Sandy.

“Then, if we had at once set up a search for the
assassin,” Will went on, “we might have discovered
him.”

“Not in a thousand years, in this wild country!”
exclaimed Tommy.

Will went to the door and looked out toward the
east.

“It will be daylight directly,” he said, “and then
we will see what can be accomplished in the way of
finding clues.”

“Nix on the clue!” argued Tommy. “The gink
who bumped our friend on the cupola came after
the paper. He got the paper and ducked, and that’s
all there is to it! If there were any secret communications
concerning our mission in the paper, the
robber got them!”

“And where does that leave us?” asked Sandy.

“Up in the air!” grumbled Tommy.

“So far as I can see,” Will stated, “you boys have
the situation sized up correctly! The boy was sent
here to convey certain information to me. He made
his way to the cabin before being attacked. Then he
was struck down and the important paper abstracted
from the envelope.”

“I’ve got an idea!” cried Tommy springing to
his feet and walking up and down the cabin floor.
“I’ve got a bully idea!”

“Pass it around,” advised Sandy.

“This lad wasn’t followed in at all!” Tommy went
on. “The man who attacked him and stole the
paper was waiting for him at this cabin! The lad
was mistaken for the boy whose name appears on
the envelope, and so he got what was meant for some
one else!”

“But look here,” George argued, “if the assassin
was waiting here for the boy to come, why didn’t he
jump us as soon as we made our appearance?”

“That’s another question I can’t answer,” Tommy
admitted. “I might say that the man reached the
cabin and found this boy sitting here alone, but that
would be only guess work.”

Will arose and walked over to the bunk where the
wounded boy lay.

“Half a dozen words from his lips would settle
the whole question,” he said, “but it appears to me
that it will be a long time before he will be able to
speak a word. All our Boy Scout learning in the
matter of wounds is ineffective here!”

“There’s one thing clear to me,” George argued,
“and that is that some one in this wild region now
knows more about our mission here than we do ourselves.
Of course, Will may know quite a lot regarding
it,” he added, with a wink, “but, if he does,
he hasn’t yet confided the story to us.”

“That’s a hint that you get busy and tell us what
we’re here for,” suggested Tommy with another
wink.

“I’ll tell you what I know about the matter,”
Will answered, “but in the face of the fact that a
more recent reading of the case is known to exist,
the chances are that any explanations I may make
may prove to be worthless.”

“Can you answer a straight question?” asked
Tommy.

“I think so,” answered Will.

“Will you answer a straight question?” persisted
the boy.

“Certainly!”

“Then answer it. What are we here for?”

“We are here,” replied Will, “to secure the print
of a thumb!”

“Has the shock of this incident turned your
head?” asked Tommy.

“I answered the question correctly!” replied Will.
“We came all the way from Chicago to find the
print of a man’s right thumb!”

“Where do you expect to find it?” demanded
Sandy.

“Somewhere among the mountains and glaciers,”
smiled Will.

“I can get all the thumb prints I want on South
Clark street!” declared Tommy. “Of course, it’s
fun to come out here, under any pretext whatever,
but I think Mr. Horton might have given us a more
sensible errand than that. This is worse than the
trip to the coal mine!”

“Now tell us the excuse Mr. Horton gave for
wanting this print of a man’s right thumb,” smiled
Sandy.

Will arose and went to the door. The sun was
lifting through a narrow pass in the mountains, and
the creatures of the thickets and the air were astir.
A flock of water fowl was winging swiftly to the
north, and what seemed to be the keen eyes of a wolf
looked out from the shelter of the undergrowth.
The air was clear and invigorating.

“Why don’t you answer my question?” asked
Sandy.

“Did you hear footsteps outside?” asked Will.

Sandy shook his head, but the two boys, after
drawing on their head-nets, stepped out into the
glorious morning.

“There is no reason,” Will decided, “why the
person who attacked the boy and stole the paper
should find it necessary to leave this section without
trying to find out something more. I have an idea
that whoever injured the lad is still in this vicinity—that
he will remain in this vicinity as long as there is
a prospect of his securing additional information.”

“The mosquitos will eat him up if he remains
around here without proper shelter!” Sandy suggested.

“That is one way of fighting off mosquitos,” Will
said, catching the boy by the arm and pointing off
to the east, where a faint line of smoke was making
its way through the still air.

“There’s some kind of a camp there, all right!”
exclaimed Sandy.

Tommy and George now came out of the cabin
and the four boys stood for some moments watching
the column of smoke which seemed to grow more
dense every moment. While they looked, a second
column appeared beside the first.

“If we were in a Boy Scout country,” Tommy
exclaimed, “I should say that was an Indian signal
for help.”

“In a Boy Scout country!” repeated Sandy. “If
this isn’t a Boy Scout country, what is it? Every
inhabitant, so far as we know, belongs to the order!”

“Well, there’s a Boy Scout call for assistance,”
urged Tommy, excitedly, “and I think we’d better
get a move on and see what it means!”

Chapter III

A MESSAGE IN CODE

“We mustn’t all go,” Will said, as his companions
started on a run in the direction of the smoke signals.

“I should say not!” exclaimed Sandy. “If we
should all go away at one time we might find another
wounded boy in the cabin on our return!”

“Suppose you keep watch, then,” Tommy suggested.

“All right,” Sandy agreed. “I’ll stay if you’ll
stay with me.”

Tommy grumbled a little at the idea of missing a
little possible excitement, but the two lads entered
the cabin and closed the door while Will and George
started away toward the signals.

The moraine over which they passed was something
like a floor of loose rocks of different sizes,
with mats of mosses, lichens, sedges, and dwarf
shrubs scattered here and there, so the traveling
was by no means easy. Now and then the boys came
to a place where the rocks were entirely bare, and
here their progress was more rapid.

The columns of smoke grew more distinct as they
advanced, and, after traveling a mile or more, they
came to a position from which a figure could be seen
moving back and forth between the two fires.

“That’s a kid all right!” Will decided, watching
the figure closely through a field glass. “And he’s
wearing a Boy Scout uniform, too!”

“I have an idea,” George declared, with a sly wink
at his chum, “that if we should ascend to the
Mountains of the Moon and drop into a gorge a
thousand feet deep, we’d find a Boy Scout in a khaki
uniform at the bottom.”

“I’m not kicking at the discovery of a Boy
Scout,” laughed Will. “The more Boy Scouts we
come across in this desolate land the happier we shall
be.”

“I’m not kicking, either,” replied George. “I
was only commenting on the queer fact that we find
Boy Scouts in every region we chance to visit.”

“You’ll find the little fellows scattered all over
the world!” declared Will. “And they’re always
doing something wherever they are.”

Will now handed the field glass to George and he,
in turn, made a short study of the figure passing back
and forth between the two fires, piling wood now on
one and now on another.

“It’s dollars to doughnuts,” Will observed, “that
the boy by the fires came in with the one who lies
in the cabin with a busted head.”

“I’ve been considering that proposition,” George
said.

“Then, perhaps, we may be able to solve a portion
of the mystery as soon as we get into conversation
with the lad,” Will continued.

“I wonder why he didn’t come to the cabin during
the night?” asked George. “He surely must have
seen the lights shining from the windows.”

Will turned and looked back over the route they
had followed.

“We can’t see the cabin from here,” he said.

“That’s a fact,” George agreed, “and if the smoke
hadn’t been going up good and plenty we would never
have seen that!”

The next moment the lad at the fires saw Will and
George approaching and ran forward to meet them,
uttering as he ran the sharp, quick bark of the fox.
The boys responded with the challenge of the Beaver
Patrol.

The lad met the two with anything but a serious
or anxious expression on his face. He grasped them
heartily by the hand and pointed toward the columns
of smoke, still rising into the sky.

“No matter where you start a signal fire,” he said
with a smile, “you’re sure to find some Boy Scout
who will understand and answer.”

“Even in Alaska!” George grinned. “A thousand
miles from nowhere you can dig up a nest of Boy
Scouts by sending up an Indian sign for help.”

“Are you Will Smith?” the boy asked after a few
more words of greeting had been exchanged. “If
you are, I’ve come along way to find you!”

“Yes, I am Will Smith,” the boy answered.

“How’d you guess it?” asked George. “Why
didn’t you ask me if I was the boss of the bunch?
Don’t I look dignified enough?”

“I have a description of Will Smith lying nicely
tucked in at the back of my brain!” replied the boy.
“Mr. Horton told me where I’d be apt to find him.
It seems that I’ve found him all right, but in doing
so, I’ve lost my chum! Haven’t seen anything of a
stray Boy Scout, have you?”

Will did not reply to the question immediately,
yet he did not care to convey to the boy the
news of what had occurred until after a clear understanding
of the situation had been reached.

“What’s your name?” asked George.

“Frank Disbrow, Fox Patrol, Chicago,” was the
reply.

“And your chum?” asked Will.

“Bert Calkins, Fox Patrol, Chicago.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you have followed
us boys from Chicago?” asked George. “You’ve
had a long chase if you have done so!”

“No,” answered Frank, “we were very much
surprised, one day, to receive a wireless telegram
from my father, who is connected in various business
operations with Lawyer Horton. The wireless
stated that father had work for us to do in Alaska,
and the result of it all was that we received a long
message in code from Mr. Horton.”

“In code?” asked Will, excitedly.

“Exactly! In code.”

“In whose code?” asked Will.

“Father’s,” was the reply.

“I see,” said Will. “And you, of course, understand
your father’s code?”

“Certainly!” was the answer.

“What did the message in code say?” asked
George.

“It was addressed to Will Smith,” was the answer,
“and I, following instructions, did not translate
it.”

“The message to you simply requested the delivery
of the code message?” asked Will.

“Yes, that’s all it told us to do.”

“Do you know what the code message contained?”
asked Will.

“I do not!” was the reply. “You see,” the boy
went on, “Bert Calkins and I were at Cordova on a
vacation. If the wireless message had been two
hours later it would have found us on the way to
Cook Inlet.”

“Just traveling about for the fun of the thing,
eh?” asked George.

“That’s the idea,” replied Frank.

“Perhaps we’d better return to the cabin before
we get the history of this boy’s life,” suggested
George, with a grin. “I don’t like the way these
mosquitos howl about my ears. I’m afraid they’ll
devour the net and begin on me.”

“The cabin?” repeated Frank. “Did you find
the cabin?”

“Sure we did,” answered George. “And we left
the cabin for an hour or so last night, and when we
came back we found a member of the Fox Patrol
asleep on the floor.”

“So that’s where Bert went, is it?” asked Frank.
“You see,” the boy went on, “I got separated from
Bert just this side of Katalla. He loitered behind to
view the scenery, or something of that sort, and I
came on ahead.”

“And he never caught up with you?” asked
George.

“He never did,” was the reply, “although I saw
him at different times during yesterday. I thought
he headed off in this direction, and so came here.
I’ve had rather a bad night looking for him.”

“He had the code message addressed to Will?”
asked George.

“Yes,” was the reply.

“The untranslated code message?” Will asked.

“Yes, the untranslated code message.”

“Glory be!” shouted George.

Frank looked at the boy in wonder for a moment,
and then turned to Will with a question in his eyes.

“It’s a long story,” Will said in answer to the
look, “and we’d better wait until we get to the
cabin before entering upon it.”

“Is Bert all right?” asked Frank.

“He got a little bump on the head somewhere,”
answered George, “but he’ll come out of that all
right, in time. I wasn’t rejoicing because your
chum got a poke on the belfry,” George went on,
whimsically, “I was shouting because the man who
stole the code message didn’t accomplish anything.”

Frank, who was now standing by the fire collecting
such bits of wardrobe as had been removed from his
handbag, and also collecting the remains of the
solitary lunch of which he had partaken that morning,
again turned to Will with an interrogation
point in each eye.

“Was the code message stolen?” he asked.

“It certainly was!” Will answered. “At least a
large envelope with my name written across the front
was found, with the end torn open, by your friend’s
side as he lay on the floor.”

“That’s the work of the man who followed us
in!” declared Frank.

“We’ll get this story all out of you pretty soon,”
laughed George.

“Suppose we go to the cabin before we uncork
the entire yarn,” suggested Frank. “To tell you
the truth, boys, I didn’t have half enough breakfast,
and I’m about starved to death!”

“All right,” Will replied. “There’s nothing to
keep us here that I know of. Did you see any one
around your camp in the night?” he continued.
“What kind of a night did you pass?”

“A rotten, bad night!” was the answer. “I
traveled a long way before I came to any wood
suitable for building a campfire, and after I got one
built it seemed to send out a bugle call to every wild
animal within forty miles of the place. I guess I
heard bears, and wolves, and wild dogs, and bull
moose, and every other form, of wild life known to
Alaska, at some time during the night!”

“And all the time,” grinned George, “you were not
more than a mile or so from our cabin. It’s a
wonder you didn’t see our light.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Frank replied. “But that’s
past and gone,” he went on, in a moment, “and what
I’m thinking about at the present time is this: Did
the man who stole the code message from Bert force
the boy to translate it for him? Tell me something
more about the attack on the boy.”

“We don’t know anything about the attack,”
replied Will. “We found him lying on the floor of
the cabin unconscious, and he has been unconscious
ever since.”

“Well,” Frank went on, “Bert understands the
code, for I taught it to him while we were translating
the telegrams which came to me. Now, if this outlaw
took the code before he struck the blow, the
chances are that he ordered Bert to translate it for
him. In that case, something which those opposed
to you ought not to know is in the hands of your
foes.”

Chapter IV

THE LOST PLANS

“Well, there’s a chance that the boy didn’t translate
the code message,” George argued. “Anyway,
we ought not to worry about that part of the case.
Time enough to fret when real trouble comes.”

By this time the boys had reached the cabin,
after an exhausting journey over the moraine. They
found Tommy and Sandy standing just inside the
screened doorway, waiting impatiently for their
arrival.

“Where did you find this one?” asked Tommy with
a grin.

“Did he drop down out of the sky?” Sandy
questioned.

Frank stood back for a moment, eyeing the two
critically.

“I know you two kids,” he said. “You’re Tommy
and Sandy. I’ve read about you in the Chicago
newspapers, but I never expected to meet you out in
Alaska. You seem to be getting plenty to eat,
judging from your condition. And that brings back
to my mind the condition of my own stomach.”

“Boys,” Will exclaimed, “this is Frank Disbrow.
He started for our cabin in company with Bert
Calking, the boy we found on the floor last night.
The two were bringing a code despatch to me, and
they became separated early yesterday morning.”

“A code message, was it?” Tommy asked.

“Yes, a code message,” Will answered, “but the
bearer of the despatch may, for all we know, have
been forced to translate the message for the benefit
of the man who robbed him of it.”

In a moment Frank was by the side of his chum,
gazing down into a white and haggard face. He
turned away in a moment with a little shiver of
anxiety. His face, too, was pale.

“I’m afraid that’s a serious wound!” he said.

“If we only had a surgeon,” Sandy suggested.

“I’ll go get one,” offered Tommy. “I can cut
across to Katalla in no time and bring back the best
doctor there is in the country.”

“I’ll go with you,” offered Sandy.

“Now, wait a minute, boys!” Will said in a
moment. “Let’s think this matter over. If you
go to Cordova instead of Katalla, you can communicate
with Frank’s father at Chicago, and so get
in touch with Mr. Horton. In this way, we can
learn the contents of the code despatch. There
surely was some strong reason for sending it, and it
seems as if we ought to know its contents.”

“That’s a good idea, too,” exclaimed Tommy.
“We’ll go to Katalla, and perhaps we can find a boat
about ready to sail for Cordova. In that case we
ought to get up to the wireless station and back in a
couple of days. The distance isn’t great, but it’s
rough traveling.”

“I wish we could take Bert with us,” suggested
Frank.

“Are you thinking of going?” asked Will.

“Yes,” was the reply, “if I could take Bert out.”

“Bert is in no condition to be taken, out,” Will
answered, “and even if he were it would take so
long to make the journey that we could get a surgeon
out here before we could land him in a hospital.”

“I think,” Frank said, “that I ought to go with
the boy who is sent out after a surgeon. It is not
certain that father will communicate by wireless
save to his son. Anyway, I can find out a great
deal more by talking with him than could any one
else.”

“I guess that’s right!” Will replied.

“Then I’ll go with him!” Tommy shouted. “I
want to see what’s going on in the world of fashion,
anyway!”

“All right,” Will said. “Pack up your provisions
and get ready to move. Of course you’ll need provisions.”

“I usually do!” grinned Tommy.

The lads packed up the good supply of sandwiches
and started off towards Katalla. It was somewhere
near noon when they left the cabin, and they expected
to reach the town on the coast before twilight
fell, the distance being not more than fourteen miles.

“If you don’t get to town when night falls,” Will
warned, “don’t try to camp out in the open, but keep
going until you find some human habitation. You
remember what happened to Bert!”

“Any one who comes within a half a mile of me in
a lonely place,” Tommy put in, “will scrape the
acquaintance of a bullet.”

“And here’s another thing,” Will advised, “don’t
travel without a wet cloth or a bunch of green leaves
inside your hat. It’ll be ninety in the shade before
the afternoon is over!”

“Yes, and a hundred in the sun!” declared Sandy.

“That’s a nice weather for the Arctic regions, isn’t
it?” asked Frank.

“We have to take it just as we find it!” replied
Will.

The boys started away on a brisk walk, and were
accompanied by their chums some distance down
the faint trail which led to the coast. At one time
in the history of the country one large glacier had
completely covered that section. But now, thousands
of subordinate canyons and hollows on the
mountains were filled with independent masses of
ice.

All that section of Alaska, from smoking Wrangell
to the Pacific coast, shows volcanic peaks. There
are many dead craters, and some which are not so
dead! There are still peaks of fire as well as rivers
of ice.

After the departure of the two boys, Will and the
others devoted considerable attention to the wounded
lad. They did their best with the simple means at
hand, but never, for an instant, did the boy regain
consciousness.

“I don’t think we can do anything for him until
the surgeon comes,” Will said as he threw himself
disconsolately into a chair.

“If we only knew whether he was forced to translate
the code message for the benefit of the man who
robbed him,” Sandy suggested, “there wouldn’t be
so much doubt as to what course we ought to take.”

“The code message,” Will argued, “may change
the whole scheme.”

“Yes,” Sandy complained, “and we won’t know
what to do until Frank comes back with the duplicate.”

“We won’t know what to do then unless Will
loosens up!” laughed George.

“Referring, of course,” Sandy laughed, “to the
prospective story of the mark of the human thumb.
Will was about to tell us all about it when we saw
the signals sent up by Frank.”

“That’s a fact,” Will replied. “I didn’t get any
further than the mention of the human thumb, did
I?”

“We’re waiting to hear the rest of it now!” declared
Sandy.

“Well,” Will began, “there was a safe robbed in
Chicago one night, and two men were accused of the
crime. The accused men were in the employ of the
manufacturing concern whose safe was entered.
They admit that they were in the private office of
the firm during the night, but they deny that they
opened the safe.”

“Of course!” laughed George.

“Now don’t form any hasty conclusions,” Will
went on. “There was a third person in the office
that night, according to the stories told by the two
men who are accused, but this third person says he
wasn’t there!”

“Then this third person may be the one who
opened the safe.”

“That is the theory of the defense,” Will explained.

“But what’s all this got to do with the mark of a
man’s right thumb?” asked George.

“I’m coming to that,” Will went on. “The three
men who were in the office that night—we are supposing
for the sake of the argument that there were
three men there, and that the man who says he wasn’t
there is lying about it—were looking over a set of
plans for a new machine which the company was
arranging to manufacture.”

“I’ve got you now!” laughed Sandy. “The
thumb print of the third man was left on the drawings!”

“That’s the idea,” admitted Will. “The two men
say that they were not a little annoyed during the
course of the evening because this man, Babcock,
persisted in pawing over the plans with dirty hands.
They declare that the marks of both thumbs are to
be seen on drawings, not in plain dust and grime,
but in ink.”

“He must have spilled the ink,” suggested George.

“That’s what they say,” Will replied.

“Well, go on!” urged George.

“The statement is made by the two accused men
that they worked over the plans until after midnight,
and that they left this man Babcock at the office
when they went to their homes. Babcock denied
that he was in the office at all that night.”

“Where are the plans?” asked George.

“In Alaska,” answered Will.

“But where abouts in Alaska?”

Will looked at the boy quizzically for a moment
before he answered.

“That’s just what we’re here to find out!” he
finally said.

“But why, when, where, how?” began the boy.

“One at a time!” laughed Will. “On the morning
following the robbery, the plans having been rejected
by the two men who were accused of robbing
the safe, were sent to a mining company having an
office at Cordova. So far as the defense is concerned,
they have never been seen since that time.”

“Were they actually sent?” demanded George.

“Yes, they were sent. The manager of the mining
company admits having received them. He says
they were turned over to a clerk for examination.
From the time they passed into the hands of this
clerk, no one had seen them. The clerk says he
never had them.”

“Do the manager and the clerk know what the
defense in the robbery case expects to prove by the
papers if they can be secured?” asked George.

“They are not supposed to know,” Will answered.

“But you think that they may know, for all that?”

“At the time of leaving Chicago, I had no idea
that there would be any trouble at all in securing the
plans. In fact, until Bert was found lying on our
floor last night, I believed that we should discover
the papers as soon as we came upon one Len Garman,
a miner who has, against the advice of his friends,
been prospecting in this district, and who is known
to have at one time occupied this cabin.”

Chapter V

FISHING IN ALASKA

“Are you sure this is the same cabin?” asked
George.

“Yes, I am sure this is the same cabin. At any
rate, the description is perfect, both as regards the
structure and the surroundings.”

“I may be somewhat dense,” George went on,
“but I can’t understand why a miner who is fool
enough to prospect for gold on a dead glacier should
take pains to conceal plans concerning the manufacture
of a machine. What did he want of the
plans?”

“I didn’t say that he was concealing the plans,”
laughed Will.

“Well, you inferred as much!”

“As a matter of fact, I think he is hiding the
plans.”

“Does he expect to go into the manufacturing
business?” grinned Sandy.

“I don’t know about that,” Will replied, “but
there is talk that the clerk and the miner conspired
to lose the plans.”

“Because of the thumb prints?” asked Sandy.

“No; because the machine outlined in the plans
is a mining machine, and because this clerk, Vin
Chase, his name is, and this miner, Garman, have a
notion in their head that they can steal the idea
and bring forth a machine of their own. At least
that is the supposition in Chicago.”

“The plot deepens!” laughed George, “We’ll be
doing business with the Patent Office the first thing
we know!”

“Are the plans which are claimed to hold the
thumb prints of any value?” asked Sandy. “What
I mean is, is the alleged invention of any account?
You know there are plenty of inventions which are
not worth the paper they are drawn on.”

“Spaulding and Hurley, the two men accused of
stealing the money,” Will answered, “declare that
the plans are absolutely without value.”

“Why didn’t you tell us all this before we left
Chicago?” asked George. “I don’t see any necessity
for your keeping the story of the plans such a
profound secret!”

“Well,” answered Will, “the principal reason why
I didn’t tell you the whole story in Chicago is that
I didn’t care to clutter your minds up with a puzzling
proposition which might be solved in a moment at
the end of the journey. I expected to find Garman
and the plans in this cottage. In that case, I should
have shipped the plans back to Chicago and we
should have gone with our playful little vacation
under the North Star.”

“Then you wouldn’t have told us anything about
the plans or the robbers?” questioned Sandy.

“Certainly not,” was the reply. “You see,
boys,” Will went on, observing the injured look on
the faces of his chums, “we’ve always been mixed up
in some mystery, ever since the day we started out
to visit the Pictured Rocks of Old Superior. So I
thought you might like one trip free of puzzles and
excitements.”

“Don’t you never permit us to lose sight of a
mystery!” exclaimed George. “I eat mysteries
three times a day, and then dream of mysteries at
night! And Sandy,” he went on, “just gets fat on
mysteries!”

“All right,” Will agreed. “If you want to tie
your intellect all up into knots studying out such
Sherlock Holmes puzzles as come to me, I have no
objections.”

“Well, we’ve found the cottage,” George observed
presently, “but we haven’t found the man.”

“Perhaps Bert Calkins found him,” contended
Will.

“Do you really think the miner is still hanging
around this cabin?” asked Sandy. “Do you think
he is the man who gave Bert the clout on the head?
If you do think so, we’d better keep a sharp lookout.”

“Garman wouldn’t know anything about our coming
here after the plans!” suggested George.

“Any man who steals another man’s invention,
or tries to steal it, will go to almost any length to
protect the thing he has stolen. Even if Garman
had no previous knowledge of our visit to this place
our arrival here would at once excite his suspicions.”

“I see that now,” agreed George, “and the first
thing the fellow would do would be to try to discover
what we were doing here.”

“Yes,” continued Will, “and that would be sufficient
motive for him to attack the bearer of the
code despatch.”

“I guess we’ve got it all doped out now,” laughed
George. “All we’ve got to do is to find this man
Garman, take the original plans away from him,
mail them back to Chicago, and go on about our
business.”

“And the lawyers in Chicago will do the rest!”
grinned Sandy.

“It looks easy, doesn’t it?” suggested Will.

“Why, if this miner doesn’t know anything about
what we’re here for, we can tell him any story we’re
a mind to. We can tell him we’re here on a vacation
and have money to invest in a mine, if he can find
the right kind of a mine for us,” laughed George.
“In twenty-four hours after we get hold of him, we
can have him eating corn out of our hands, like a
billy goat.”

“You say it well!” laughed Sandy.

“That’s all very well,” Will agreed, “provided
Garman isn’t the man who took the code despatch
from Bert Calkins.”

“And provided, too,” George declared, “that
Garman didn’t force the boy to translate the despatch
for his benefit.”

“And provided, also,” Sandy cut in, “that the
code despatch doesn’t give away the whole snap to
the miner. If he sees the machine plans referred
to in any way, he’ll think we want to get them away
from him, because they are the stolen plans, and then
it will be all off for us!”

“And so, when you come to round up on the proposition,”
Will argued, “we are not much further
along than we were when we left Chicago, except
that we have found the cabin.”

“Who said anything about getting dinner?” asked
Sandy, after a short pause. “I remember having a
little snack about twelve o’clock, but that wasn’t
to be considered as a full meal, I hope.”

“What have we got to eat?” asked Will.

“Nothing but a lot of canned stuff!” declared
Sandy.

“Well, then, go out and get a deer, or half a dozen
rabbits, or go back here to the little creek that runs
into Copper river and see if you can get a mess of
fish. There ought to be plenty of fish in Alaska!”

“What kind of fish can you get?” asked Sandy.

“Salmon!” answered Will.

“How far is it to the creek?” was the next question.

“Something over a mile, I should say,” replied
Will.

“It can’t be any further than that,” George cut
in. “The glacier this cabin is built on supplies
most of the water for it.”

“All right, then,” Sandy replied. “I’ll get myself
up a little lunch consisting of a couple of slices
of bacon and three or four eggs, and go out and
catch a ten-pound salmon for dinner. Want to go
with me, George?” he added. “No need of all
three staying here.”

“Let Will go,” replied George. “I’m tired, and
there’s a particularly interesting book I’d like to
finish this afternoon.”

Will went pawing among the fishing tackle, and
finally called out to George who was just crawling
into a bunk with his book:

“What do they catch fish with in Alaska?”

“Hooks!” replied George.

“Hooks and eyes?” asked Will, with a chuckle.

“Sure! Hooks and eyes! You see ’em with the
eyes, and grab ’em with the hooks!”

“Aw, never mind that gink!” laughed Sandy.
“He doesn’t know any more about fishing in Alaska
than a hog knows about Sunday! Bring along all
the flies we’ve got and some red flannel, and some
pieces of dirty bacon, and we’ll manage to get fish.
If one bait won’t answer, another will.”

“Do we have to cut a hole through the ice?” asked
Will.

“Cut a hole through the ice!” repeated George.
“Eighty or ninety in the shade! If you don’t get
this boy out of here, Sandy,” George added, “I’ll
give him a poke in the eye!”

After selecting such flies, hooks, and lines as they
thought might prove alluring to the fish, Will and
Sandy started away in the direction of the little
stream which ran out of the glacier a mile or so to the
north and took a general direction toward Copper
river.

After walking half a mile or more, they came to a
line of rocks which seemed to extend from the open
ice of the glacier to the coast, a distance of perhaps
five or six miles. West of this line of moraine rocks
the land sloped gradually to the northwest and here
the headwaters of the little creek they sought were
found.

Straight away to the north, west of the glacier,
rose a range of wooded hills just now bright with
blossoms and swarming with insect life. The little
creek crept along to the south of this range, and,
further down, separated the ground to the south from
the hills.

Sandy leaped across the little rivulet as it came
bubbling out of the ice hidden under the moraine
and started down the bank next to the line of hills.
Will kept to the other side.

“Why don’t you come across?” shouted Sandy.

“What’s the good of crossing over at all?” Will
asked. “Before long the stream will be so wide
that you can’t cross back, and then you’ll have to
retrace your steps clear to the headwaters!”

“I can swim, can’t I?” laughed Sandy.

“Not in that cold water!” replied Will.

Sandy only laughed in reply to the warning, and
the two boys proceeded downstream, one on each side
of the rivulet.

Within half an hour they caught half a dozen
salmon of fair size, weighing from four to six pounds,
using only red flannel for bait.

“What do you think of a fish in his right mind
that’ll try to eat red flannel?” asked Sandy, speaking
from the opposite side of the creek.

“Boys do more foolish things than that!” answered
Will.

“Explanation!” grinned Sandy.

“They smoke cigarettes, for one thing!” replied
Will. “Even a fish that tries to make a meal off red
flannel won’t smoke a cigarette.”

“We don’t seem to get anything very big!”
shouted Sandy.

“Well,” Will answered back with a faint smile,
“take a look up the hillside and see if that bear coming
is large enough for you!”

Chapter VI

A MISSING BOY

“Bear nothing!” laughed Sandy. “There isn’t a
bear within a hundred miles of us! You can’t fool
your Uncle Isaac!”

“Look back and see!” advised Will.

Sandy paid no attention to the remark, but kept
on fishing, following on down stream until he was
some yards in advance of his chum.

So interested was he in the sport in which he was
engaged that he thought no more of what had been
said to him regarding the bear until a pistol shot
reached his ears.

Then he glanced quickly in the rear, taking in the
whole line of the hillside at one glance.

Just at that moment the whole landscape seemed
to consist principally of bear! Will had wounded a
great brown bear, and he was charging down toward
the place where Sandy stood. The boy drew his
automatic and faced about, hardly knowing what
else to do, as the creek was too wide to leap across.
The bear came on with a rush.

“Run!” shouted Will.

“I guess you’ll have to show me a place to run to!”
Sandy shouted back. “This bear seems to have
taken possession of about all the territory there is on
this side of the creek.”

“Shoot, you dunce, shoot before he gets up to
you!” shouted Will. “If he gets one swipe at you
with that paw, you’ll land out in the Gulf of Alaska!
Fill him full of lead!”

Sandy began firing, but the bear came steadily on.

“You’ll have to swim for it!” shouted Will in a
moment. “You mustn’t let that big brute get near
enough to hand you one with that educated left of
his. Jump in and swim and I’ll help pull you out!”

Sandy looked at the creek and shivered. The
water looked blue, as if shivering from the cold.
He faced about and decided to take a few more shots
at the bear before risking his life in the cold water.

“You’ll have to jump!” Will shouted from the
other side.

“I wouldn’t have to jump,” Sandy cried back,
“If you’d do more shooting and less talking! Go on
and use up your lead!”

In the excitement of the time, Will had, indeed,
forgotten to keep his automatic busy. He now began
shooting as fast as the weapon would carry the lead
away, and bruin seemed to take offense at the
activity with which the bullets flew about him. He
was bleeding in several places, and was in a perfect
frenzy of rage.

“I guess that’s an armored bear!” Will shouted
across the creek. “I don’t believe our bullets have
any effect on him!”

By this time the bear was within a few paces of
Sandy. The boy’s automatic was empty now, yet
he obstinately refused to spring into the water.
Bruin reached out one paw and Sandy ducked, coming
up behind the clumsy animal and landed a blow
with the butt of the automatic on his head.

The next few moments were something of a blank
in the mind of the boy. He heard Will calling to
him, he knew that he had been struck by the bear,
knew that his chum’s bullets were still flying across
the river, and knew that things were turning black
around him.

Then he felt a dash of cold water in his face, and
looked up to see Will standing over him, pouring
water out of his hat.

“What did I do to the bear?” he asked faintly.

“Wait till you get to a mirror and see what the
bear did to you!” replied Will. “What you got was
a plenty!”

“Why didn’t I jump in and swim across?” asked
Sandy feebly.

“Because you’re the most obstinate little customer
that ever drew the breath of life,” answered Will.
“You took a chance on being eaten alive by a bear
rather than get your feet wet!”

“Did I get my feet wet?” asked Sandy.

“No, but I did!” answered Will. “I had to swim
across. The bear handed you one between the eyes
and then dropped dead. I was afraid you’d lie here
all night if I didn’t do something, so I swam over.”

“So you’re the one that got wet?” grinned Sandy.

“Yes, I’m the one that got wet, but you’re the
one that got beat up!” replied Will. “Do you think
you can walk home now?”

“Sandy straightened out one arm at a time, then
one leg at a time, then arose to a sitting position.

“I don’t know why not!” he replied.

“Get up and see if you can walk!” advised Will.

“‘Course I can walk!” replied Sandy. “I just
went down for the count!”

He scrambled slowly to his feet and turned about
to gaze at his late antagonist. The bear was lying
stone dead close to the stream.

“He’s a big one, isn’t he?” he asked.

“He certainly is,” was the reply. “If he’d got a
good swipe at you before he became weak from loss of
blood, you’d be in the ‘Good-night’ land all right
now!” the boy added, with a grin.

“Well, I’m glad he didn’t, then!” answered Sandy.

“Do you think we can carry the rug home?” asked
Will.

“Perhaps you can,” replied Sandy. “I don’t
feel as if I could carry an extra ounce. I guess Bruin
did pass me a stiff jolt!”

“You bet he did!” replied Will. “Anyway,” he
added, “we’ll have to leave the rug until some other
time, because we’ve got quite a lot of fish to carry.
If any one steals the hide, we’ll have to stand it.”

“We might skin the bear and put the hide up in a
tree,” suggested Sandy. “We’ll have to tan the
pelt in the sunshine, anyway!”

“That’s a good idea, too!” exclaimed Will,
getting busy at once with his knife. “And that reminds
me that we can have bear steak for supper if
we want it. We all like bear steak, you know!”

“I should say so!” replied Sandy.

It took the boys only a short time to remove the
pelt from the bear and provide themselves with a
few pounds of steak. Then leaving part of their fish,
they started away up the creek toward the cabin.

Now and then Will stopped in the hurried walk to
look toward Sandy and grin in the most provoking
manner.

“If you see anything about me you don’t like,”
Sandy said, half-angrily, on the third or fourth inspection,
“you can just step over here and knock it
out of me! What are you making fun of me for?”

“You look like you’d been through a battle with a
cage of monkeys,” replied Will. “You’ve got a
swipe on the side of the face, and your cheek is
scratched and bloody, and you got a swipe on your
shoulder, and there’s a tear on your shoulder, in the
flesh as well as in your coat, and one eye will be black
as soon as the blood settles under the contusion.
Take it up one side and down the other, you’re a
pretty disreputable looking object!”

“You wait until you get into a fight with a bear,
and see how you come out! I’ll bet you won’t
look as if you’d just dropped in from a pink tea!
You’ll look about like thirty cents!”

“When I see a bear coming,” replied Will, “I
hope I’ll have the sense to run! I won’t stay and
get into a knock-down argument with him!”

It was nearly sundown when the boys came in
sight of the cabin. They looked eagerly through
the twilight for a light, expecting that George would
have the great acetylene lamp in working order.

But no light showed from the cabin, and all was
still as they approached the door. When Will
looked in he saw the interior was in confusion.

“I should think George might straighten things
out a little bit,” he grumbled. “I’ll bet he’s been
asleep all the afternoon!”

“I presume he has,” agreed Sandy.

Will reached to the top of a shelf for an electric
flashlight and swung the circle of flame about the
room.

“Why, look here!” he said excitedly, “what do
you know about that?”

“About what?” demanded Sandy, who was looking
the other way.

“About Bert’s bed being empty!”

“That’s another joke!”

“Not on your life!” exclaimed Will.

Sandy turned around, gave one glance at the
vacant bunk, and dropped weakly back into a chair.

“Do you think he got up and walked away?” he
asked.

“No,” replied Will, “I don’t!”

“Then, who carried him away?” demanded Sandy.

Will turned the rays of the searchlight on the bunk
where he had seen George cuddle down and then
walked over toward it.

“George didn’t!” he answered, “because George
is here sound asleep!”

“Sound asleep?” repeated Sandy. “Do you suppose
he’d lie here and sleep and let some one come
and carry away Bert?”

Will took hold of the boy’s leg and half drew him
out of the bunk.

“Wake up, here!” he shouted.

George yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“First good sleep I’ve had in a week!” he said.

“Did you sleep all the afternoon?” asked Will.

“I guess I did!”

“Hear any one around the cabin?”

“How could I, when I was sound asleep?”

“Well,” Will went on, “while you were having
that fine sleep, some one came to the cabin and
carried off Bert Calkins!”

“What are you talking about?” demanded George.

“Look in his bunk and see!” advised Sandy.

“How was it ever done?” demanded George.

“I’m not asking how it was done,” Will returned.
“What I want to know is: Why was it done? What
object could any one have in carrying away that
kid? I wouldn’t believe he was gone if I didn’t see
the empty bunk.”

“It’s something connected with that code message!”
Sandy suggested.

“I’ve got it!” replied Will. “The man took the
message away before he knew whether he could read
it or not. When he found he couldn’t read it, he
came back to get Bert to read it for him.”

“But Bert is in no condition to be kept prisoner,”
George insisted. “He won’t give the information
the man seeks, and the man will probably mistreat
him because he can’t! What we’ve got to do is to
get a move on and find the boy before he is starved or
beaten to death.”

“That’s just what we’ve got to do!” agreed Will.
“We’ve got to drop everything until we find that
boy!”

Chapter VII

A LOST “BULLDOG”

“How much do you know about this case?” asked
Tommy of Frank, as the two stumbled over the uneven
moraine.

“How much do I know about what?” asked Frank.

“Why, this case that your father talked with you
about when he used the wireless; the case referred
to in the code message.”

“Why, I know that you boys are out here in
search of the print of a man’s right thumb!” laughed
Frank.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, I know a little more than that. I know that
two men are soon to be tried for burglary, and that
the discovery of the thumb marks is quite essential
to a successful defense.”

“Did your father tell you all that?”

“Oh, we talked quite a lot by wireless.”

Tommy considered the situation for a moment
and then said:

“I wish you’d tell me all you know about it.”

In as few words as possible, Frank related the
story practically as told to George and Sandy by
Will.

“Does Bert know all about this?” asked Tommy
when the recital was finished. “Did you talk the
matter over with him?”

“I certainly did.”

“I hope,” Tommy mused, “that he wasn’t forced
to tell anything about the thumb marks when the
man robbed him.”

“I don’t think he would do that,” suggested
Frank. “He would be apt to plead ignorance.”

The boys came, about nine in the evening, to the
little station of Katalla, which is just a mite of a
town sitting perched high above the Gulf of Alaska.
The first thing they did was to make inquiries at the
water front regarding transportation to Cordova.

As they passed swiftly from point to point, consulting
a half-breed here, an Esquimaux there, and
an American trader at another point, they noticed
that they were being followed. Finally Tommy drew
back and waited until the man who seemed to be
pursuing them came up.

“Are you looking for me?” he asked.

“I would like to speak with you,” was the reply.

“Well, then, why didn’t you come up like a man
and say so?” demanded Tommy. “You needn’t
have skulked along in the dark!”

“Fact is,” the man answered, “that I heard you
making inquiries regarding the possibility of getting
to Cordova tonight.”

“Yes, that’s where we want to go.”

“Have you secured transportation yet?”

“We have not!” Tommy answered.

“Well, I was going to let you inquire at one more
place,” said the other, “and then tender you the
use of my boat.”

“Why were you going to wait?”

“Because I wanted you to exhaust your last chance
so that I could get my own price for the service.”

“You must be a Yankee!” laughed Tommy.

“Right!” was the reply. “I’m a Yankee direct
from Boston. I don’t have many opportunities of
acquiring wealth out here, and I smelt real money
as soon as I saw you boys come to town a couple of
days ago.”

“What kind of a boat have you?” asked Tommy.

“A swift little motor boat.”

“Can you get us to Cordova and back by seven
or eight in the morning?”

“I don’t think I can do the job as soon as that,
but I’ll do the best I can! Why are you in such a
hurry?”

“There’s a boy sick at the camp!” was the short
reply.

“How much are you going to charge for the use
of your boat?” asked Frank. “We’re willing to pay
for fast service.”

“I think a couple of hundred dollars will be about
right,” was the reply. “It’s a little bit risky going
out in the night.”

Tommy was about to protest against the exorbitant
charge, but Frank motioned him to remain
silent.

“The price is satisfactory,” he said. “When can
you start?”

“In an hour,” was the answer.

After promising to meet the boys at the floating
dock in an hour’s time, the owner of the motor boat
took his departure, and the two lads dropped into a
smoky and smelly restaurant for supper.

The place was foul with evil language as well as
evil smells, and the boys did not remain long. Instead
of sitting down at the table and ordering their
meal, they bought such provisions as they could get
and took their way to the water front. When they
sat down to eat their rather unpalatable repast,
they saw that a boy of about their own size and age
was loitering not far away.

“I’ll gamble you a five cent piece,” Tommy
whispered to Frank, “that that is a Boy Scout!
What do you say?”

“You’re on!” exclaimed Frank.

Tommy struck three times on the planking of the
dock with his open hand. Instantly there came
back to his ears the low snarling voice of a bulldog.
Then footsteps advanced down the dock, and the
boy soon stood close to the others.

“You’re a Beaver?” he asked.

“And you’re a Bulldog!” said Tommy.

The boys presented their hands, palm out, in the
full salute of the Boy Scouts and then stood examining
each other’s faces.

“Where’s the Bulldog Patrol located?” asked
Tommy.

“Portland, Oregon,” was the reply.

“Do you live here now?” asked Frank, who had
already been introduced as a member of the Fox
Patrol.

“I’m obliged to live here,” was the answer, “because
I can’t get out of town. I wish I could get
away!”

“You may go with us,” offered Tommy.

“Where?” was the question.

“To Cordova tonight, and to a camp out on a
glacier tomorrow.”

“Tickled to death!” exclaimed the boy.

“You’re welcome!” declared Tommy;

“Who’re you going with?” was the next question.

“He didn’t give us his name, but he said he owned
a fast motor boat, and he said he’d get us there and
back before noon tomorrow!”

“Jamison is the only man here who has a motor
boat, but you want to look out for him. He’s as
crooked as a corkscrew!”

“That’s the impression I received when he fixed
his price.”

“Well,” the stranger said in a moment, “I’ve got
a little baggage up the street and I’ll go and get it.”

He was gone perhaps half an hour, and when he
returned the boys saw an anxious expression on his
face.

“Are you sure that man Jamison is going out with
you tonight?” he asked.

“He said he would,” was the reply.

“He’s up there loading in whiskey,” the boy, who
had given his name as Samuel White, continued,
“and has surrounded himself with about as tough a
bunch of crooks as there is in all Alaska.”

“Perhaps he wants them to help run the boat,”
suggested Tommy.

“No, there’s something crooked on foot!” declared
Sam. “The fellows are whispering together in a
bar-room up the street, and pounding the tables, and
letting cut great shouts of laughter as if they had a
good joke on some one.”

“Do you know any of the men with Jamison?”
asked Frank.

“One of them,” the boy replied, “is a crooked mine
agent, and one is a fellow who hangs around town
without revealing any business whatever, but seems
to have plenty of money.”

While the boys talked, Jamison, accompanied by
two men who seemed to be somewhat under the influence
of liquor, came down to the dock.

After nodding familiarly to the lads, he gave a
signal with a lantern which he carried in his hand,
and in a short time a very capable looking motor
boat came puffing out of the darkness.

“There you are, boys!” he said. “Jump in, and
I’ll have you up to Cordova in no time. I’ve got a
good crew on board, and I may be able to get you
back long before noon.”

The boys did not exactly like the looks of the
“good” crew, but they said nothing as they took
their seats in the little trunk cabin and waited for
the boat to get under motion.

When at last the motors began whirling and the
rocking motion told the lads that they were out
among the high waves, Jamison came in and seated
himself by Tommy’s side.

“Little bit bumpy tonight,” he said, “but you’ll
soon get used to that. If you have the money
ready, I’ll collect fares now.”

Frank took two hundred dollars in bank notes from
a pocket and passed it over to the owner of the boat.

“A hundred apiece,” Jamison said. “I was to
have a hundred for each passenger. You owe me a
hundred more.”

“Don’t pay any hundred for me,” Sam White
exclaimed, springing to his feet. “I’ll jump over-board
and swim back.”

Frank laid a hand on the boy’s arm and pushed
him back into a seat.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I did agree to pay a
hundred dollars a passenger. You’re quite welcome
to the ride at my expense.”

As Frank spoke he took a roll of bank notes from
another pocket and stripped off one of the denomination
of one hundred dollars.

Jamison saw large denominations, some as high
as five hundred dollars, in the roll, and his evil eyes
glittered greedily.

When Frank put up the roll, the fellow’s eyes
followed it until it passed out of sight in the pocket.
Other members of the crew had seen the money also,
and Tommy was decidedly uncomfortable as he
thought of the situation they were in.

Having received his pay, Jamison grew very
friendly and confidential, and began pointing out the
show places along the dim coast.

Presently Sam whispered cautiously in Tommy’s
ear:

“He is headed for the Barren islands, and not
Cordova,” he said.

Chapter VIII

ON THE GULF OF ALASKA

“Where are the Barren islands, and why should
he want to take us there?” asked Tommy, apprehensively.

“The Barren islands,” replied Sam, “lie in the
Gulf of Alaska, just south of the mouth of Copper
river, west of Controller bay. They extend along
the coast, only a short distance out, for twenty
miles or more, and are just what the local name
signifies, Barren islands.”

“But why should he want to take us there?” insisted
Tommy, slipping a hand toward his hip pocket
to make sure that his automatic was ready for any
emergency.

Sam did not answer the question, for Tommy’s
quick start of surprise, his low exclamation of dismay,
checked the words which were on his lips. Instead,
he pushed closer to the lad and asked:

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“My revolver has been taken!” replied Tommy.

Frank, sitting close to his chum on the other side,
now pushed his hand into his hip pocket and brought
it forth empty.

“So is mine!” he said.

The boys looked at each other for a moment in the
gathering darkness without speaking. The situation
was a serious one.

“Who did it?” asked Tommy presently.

“No one has been near me except that man
Jamison,” replied Frank.

“He’s the only one who’s been within reaching
distance of me,” Tommy observed. “He must be a
clever pickpocket!”

“I saw him eyeing that roll of money rather
greedily,” Sam cut in, speaking in a very low tone,
for Jamison had new turned back from the prow and
was looking in their direction.

“I noticed that, too,” Frank answered. “I’m
afraid we’re going to get into trouble with that gink.
Anyway,” he continued, “he’s started in right. He
did well to get our guns before he started anything!”

“He didn’t get my revolver,” Sam said with a low
chuckle. “It’s a little bit of a baby thing, but it’s
a great deal better than none!”

“It will shoot, won’t it?” asked Tommy.

“It will shoot, all right, but it’s only a twenty-two,”
replied the boy. “I’ve been trying for the
last two days to get a square meal on it, but couldn’t
get even a ham sandwich. They don’t look with
favor on baby guns up in Alaska. They want the
real thing!”

“Well, keep your gun where you can reach it at
any moment!” advised Frank. “Even a twenty-two
caliber may prove effective at short range.”

“I presume,” Sam went on, “that my coming on
board in shabby clothes, and as an object of charity,
convinced Jamison that I wasn’t worth searching. I
saw him looking me over, though!”

“Object of charity—not!” returned Frank.
“We’re mighty glad you’re with us right now! You
say he’s taking us to the Barren islands. Well, we
wouldn’t know the Barren islands from any other
place without you. You’ve put us on our guard, at
least, and that’s worth more than the price of the
ticket! We’re glad of your company, too!”

“Now, see here, boys,” Tommy whispered, “we
mustn’t let this man Jamison know that we have
discovered that we have been robbed. The minute
he knows that we are suspicious of him, the matter
will come to a focus immediately. We’ve got to
have time to think this matter over before anything
is done.”

This plan of action was agreed to, and the boys
sat for some minutes in silence. After a time Jamison
came to where they were seated, just at the doorway
of the trunk cabin, and began asking questions
about the need for a doctor. Tommy explained that
a member of their party had been injured by a fall,
and that they were going to Cordova in quest of a
surgeon. He again asked Jamison to put on full
speed.

“There’s a man over here on the coast, this side
of Katalla, who is said to be a fine surgeon,” Jamison
explained, after Tommy had finished his statement.
“He’s a sort of a recluse, people say, and lives alone
in a shabby hut, high up above the tide. You
might stop and consult him. That would be better,
it seems to me, than going away up to Cordova.
Still,” he went on with a grim smile, “I’ve been paid
to take you to Cordova and back, and, if you insist,
I mean to live up to my bargain!”

Sam gave Frank a quick poke in the ribs and
whispered in his ear:

“Yes, he does!”

“Let him play out his string,” whispered Frank
in return.

“This surgeon,” Jamison went on, “is a queer
old fellow. Sometimes he’ll take a case, and sometimes
he won’t. If he feels in an ugly mood, he’s
likely to kick us out of his cabin.”

Tommy listened with apparent interest to what
the treacherous Jamison was saying, but it is needless
to remark that he did not accept it as truth.
It was his belief that the fellow was manufacturing a
pretext for getting himself and his friends quietly
on shore as soon as one of the Barren islands was
reached.

There were three men on board the motor boat
besides Jamison. They were evil-looking fellows,
and spent most of their time on the forward deck,
where the steering wheel and the motors were located.

The men frequently drank out of a black bottle,
and were fast becoming intoxicated. Instead of
attempting to restrain the fellows, Jamison seemed
to encourage them in their debauch.

“He’s getting them in trim to start something,”
Sam whispered, as the three men broke into a rough
drinking song.

“Yes,” agreed Tommy, “I imagine that he wants
whatever takes place on board the boat tonight to be
regarded as the acts of men made irresponsible by
whisky. You’d better keep your gun handy, Sam!”

“I’ve got my hand on it every minute!” replied
the boy. “And if anything is started here, Jamison
will be the first one to know that I’ve got it! He’s
the man that needs the lesson!”

It was very dark now, and the sea was rough.
The motor boat plunged about like a leaf, tossing
from wave to wave, and dropping into one trough
after another. It was plain that the members of the
crew were becoming too drunk to handle the boat.

Jamison finally approached the cabin doorway and
sat down on one of the stationary seats. Notwithstanding
the fact that the boat was taking water at
almost every jump, the fellow’s face bore a satisfied
look.

“What are those fellows trying to do with the
boat?” asked Tommy.

“Oh, they’re all right!” answered Jamison.

“Looks to me like they were trying to drop us to
the bottom,” Frank said. “There won’t be any boat
left directly!”

“I guess they have got a little too much John
Barleycorn on board!” laughed Jamison, as the boat
gave a lurch which sent him head foremost from his
seat. “I’d go and take the wheel myself, only I
don’t know much about running a motor boat under
present conditions.”

Frank gave Tommy a quick nudge in the side.

“I can run the boat,” he whispered, “shall I?”

“If he’d let you, yes!” replied Tommy.

“Where shall I take her?”

“To Cordova, of course, but perhaps you’d better
wait until the men get a little bit drunker. Jamison
will become frightened for the safety of his boat before
long, and then he won’t object to your taking
charge of her. He’s beginning to look sick already.”

“If I ever get hold of that wheel,” Frank whispered
to Tommy, “I’ll send her flying toward Cordova!
I hope the members of the crew will be too drunk to
know which, way I’m taking them.”

Directly the boat gave another tremendous lurch,
soaking the boys with cold salt water. Jamison rose
to his feet with an oath and, steadying himself by
clinging to the top of the cabin, shook a fist angrily
at the man at the wheel. The man frowned back.

“What are you doing, you drunken hobo?”
shouted Jamison.

The man grinned foolishly but said not a word.

“I wish I knew how to operate a motor boat as
well as he does when he’s sober,” gritted Jamison.

“The owner of a boat ought to know how to run
her!” suggested Frank.

“I bought the boat only a few days ago,” replied
Jamison.

“Look here,” Frank said, as the boat gave another
sickening whirl, “I can run a boat all right. Shall
I take hold?”

“No,” replied Jamison sourly, “we’ve got to
land!”

“But there is no place to land,” urged Sam.

“There is a place on the point where the doctor
lives,” answered Jamison, “where we can land in a
rowboat. I’m glad now that I brought the dinghy
along with us. We can anchor the motor boat under
the point and take refuge in the doctor’s cabin until
this storm blows over.”

The boys were greatly disappointed at this decision
on the part of Jamison, but they dare not
argue the point with him for fear that he would
suspect that they were watching his every movement.

In a few moments a dark bulk showed directly in
front of the racing motor boat, and only the quick
action of the man at the wheel prevented a collision
with a bold headland which showed dimly under the
light of the few stars which looked down from the
cloudy sky.

In a moment the boys saw a light, and then Sam
whispered to Frank:

“That’s not a coast point,” he said. “It’s one
of the Barren islands. I don’t believe there’s any
doctor there, as he said! What shall we do if he
asks us to go ashore?”

“We’ll have to go, I suppose,” returned Tommy,
“but, all the same,” he went on, “if we get a chance
to get possession of the boat, we’ll let these outlaws
take a swim to the shore!”

Presently the boat came under the shelter of the
headland, and then a member of the crew, in obedience
to whispered orders from Jamison, dropped
into the dinghy which had been trailing behind, and
shouted to his mate to follow. Then Jamison himself
stepped into the dinghy, which was swinging
about wildly in the surf.

“Now boys,” he said, “if you’ll get aboard, we’ll
take you ashore for an interview with the doctor.
He’ll demand big pay, but he’s skillful and you ought
to secure his services if you can.”

“Only one man on board now,” cried Tommy,
“Now’s our chance!”

Chapter IX

THE CLUES WILL FOUND

“I wish one of you boys would give me a good
swift kick,” George exclaimed as the three lads stood
in the cabin discussing the strange disappearance of
Bert Calkins.

“I’d do that all right if it would accomplish anything!”
laughed Will.

“I’ll do it anyhow, if you insist upon it!” grinned
Sandy.

“It was a rotten thing for me to do!” exclaimed
George. “I never expected to go to sleep when I
lay down in my bunk, but I did go to sleep, and some
one walked into the cabin and carried Bert away!
I’ll never get over it if anything serious happens to
him!”

“Aw, cut it out!” exclaimed Sandy. “We’ll find
him all right. The question before the house right
now is whether we’re going to get supper before we
start out on a hunt for the kid.”

“We may as well get supper,” Will advised.
“There’s no use whatever of our running around in
circles in the dark. We’ve got to sit down here and
reason it out. Before we do anything at all, we
ought to reach some conclusion as to why the poor
kid was taken away.”

“Why, I thought that was all understood,” Sandy
interrupted. “I thought we decided not long ago
that the man who stole the code wireless came back
to get Bert to translate it for him.”

“There was some talk of that kind,” Will agreed,
“and I guess it’s as near to the truth as we can get
with our present knowledge of the incident. Anyway,
I can conceive of no other reason for the
abduction.”

“Then we may as well get supper while we’re
studying out the proposition,” George said, “and,
by way of penance, I’ll do the cooking!”

The lad turned to Sandy to ask a question regarding
the sudden appearance of the bear steak, and
then for the first time noted his dilapidated and
generally disreputable condition.

“Where did you get it?” he asked, pointing to the
bruised face and torn garments. “You’ve gone and
spoiled a perfectly good Boy Scout suit.”

“And the bear we’re going to have for supper,”
Will chuckled, “came very near spoiling a perfectly
good Boy Scout.”

“Did the bear hand him that?” asked George.

“He certainly did!” replied Sandy. “And he put
me out for the count, too!”

“Then I’ll take great joy in eating him!” declared
George.

While George fried the bear steak over the gasoline
“plate,” Sandy told the story of the fishing trip,
while Will listened with a grin on his face, now and
then interrupting with what Sandy declared to be an
entirely irrelevant remark.

The big acetylene lamp which, had come in with
the boys’ baggage had not been set up, so the cabin
was now lighted only by flashlights. This made
cooking difficult, and George protested against it, so
Will went to work setting up the tank and getting
the big lamp into use.

“That’s better!” exclaimed George, as the great
light flashed out. “Now, while I’m cooking the
supper, you might look about and see what you can
discover in the way of clues. There is an old theory,
you know, that no person can enter a room and leave
it without their leaving behind some trace of having
been there!”

“That’s a part of the Sherlock Holmes business
that I entirely overlooked!” laughed Will. “Come
to think of it, the fellow must have left some clue
here. We’ll see if we can find it!”

While Sandy and George worked industriously
over the gasoline “plate,” frying bear meat and fish,
and making toast and coffee, Will began a thorough
search of the cabin floor. He moved about for some
moments on his hands and knees, studying the rough
boards through a microscope.

When he came to the bunk he examined that in
the same careful and painstaking way. Sandy and
George pretended to be very much amused at his
alleged posing as an investigator, but the boy paid
no attention to their smiles and sarcastic remarks.

All through the meal Will kept his own counsel
as to what he had discovered, if anything. His
chums quizzed him unmercifully, but he gave out no
information regarding discoveries until after the
meal was completed and they sat, wrapped in their
heavy coats, before the stripped table, now bearing
only empty dishes.

“Now tell us about it!” demanded Sandy. “How
tall was this man who carried Bert, away?”

“Five feet six,” replied Will.

“Black or white?”

“Black hair and eyes and whiskers.”

“Fat or lean?”

“Neither, just heavily built.”

“Come, Smarty,” Sandy laughed, “perhaps you’ll
be kind enough to go on now and tell us the color of
his necktie.”

“He didn’t wear any necktie!” answered Will.
“He wore a leather hunting shirt and leather leggins.
His hands were protected from the mosquitos by
leather gloves. He wore moccasins.”

“Will you be kind enough to tell us what he had
for supper last night?” asked Sandy. “Also, can
you tell us which side he sleeps on nights?”

“This is no joke!” Will answered. “I really think
I have a good description of the man who abducted
Bert. And I think, too, that the description will
serve to locate him.”

“That’s all right!” laughed George, “when
Tommy comes back, we’ll have him get out his
dream book and read you to sleep!”

“Yes,” Will said gravely, “when Tommy comes
back with the surgeon.”

“It would be a rotten proposition, wouldn’t it, if
Tommy should get back with the surgeon before we
found Bert?”

“It certainly would,” answered Will.

“Tommy can’t possibly get back before some time
tomorrow night,” Sandy argued, “and we ought to
be able to find the boy before that time!”

“Especially as Will has a perfect description of the
outlaw,” said George with a wink at Sandy.

Then the boy added with a laugh:

“Go on, Will, and tell us how you know the man’s
size and weight.”

“Yes,” Sandy broke in. “Tell us how you know
he’s exactly five feet six. You weren’t here to
measure him!”

“The wall measured him!” replied Will.

“Oh!” exclaimed Sandy with a grin.

“Back there by the door,” Will went on, “the
man leaned against the wall for some purpose. Of
course, I don’t know why, but I suspect that he
leaned there for a moment to get the boy well
balanced in his arms before stepping outside. At
any rate, he stood there for an instant with a broad
back braced against the dusty logs. You can see
where the top of his head came, without getting up.”

“That’s reasonable!” replied Sandy. “Now tell
us how you know he has black hair and eyes.”

“He left half a dozen hairs on the pillow at Bert’s
bunk,” replied Will. “Also he left coarser black
hairs which evidently came from his face. They lie
there on the table.”

The boys examined the hairs curiously, and then
Will asked:

“What do you think of it?”

“I think,” replied Sandy, “that Bert regained
consciousness while he was being lifted from the bunk
and got in a couple of digs at the fellow’s hair and
whiskers.”

“The motion which removed the hair and
whiskers,” suggested George, “might have been
entirely involuntary.”

“That’s very true!” answered Will. “It doesn’t
seem to me that the boy regained consciousness. If
he had, he would have made such objections to being
taken away that George would have been awakened.
At any rate the hairs are here, and that is sufficient!”

“Now tell us how you know about the bulk of the
fellow.”

“The marks on the wall show that,” replied Will.

“What do you know about his leather leggins,
hunting shirt and gloves?” asked Sandy. “I know
about the moccasins, because I saw the tracks on
the floor myself. He must be an Indian if he wore
moccasins.”

“I never saw an Indian with long whiskers!” replied
Will.

“Well, go on and tell us about the leather he
wore,” urged George.

“The hunting shirt,” Will replied with a smile, as
he pointed to a small piece of leather lying on the
table, “was patched and in the struggle at the bunk
the patch was torn away. A cloth garment, you
know,” he continued, “wouldn’t be apt to be patched
with leather.”

The boys looked at the leather patch, not much
larger than a silver dollar, and nodded their heads.

“The marks on the wall where the outlaw seems
to have balanced his burden, show that he wore
leather gloves,” Will continued. “You can see the
blunt mark where he threw up a hand to steady himself.
The fingers of a cloth glove would have shown
narrower.”

“I guess you’ve got the Sherlock Holmes part of
it all right!” said George, “so all we’ve got to do now
is to find the boy!”

“But this will help!” Sandy argued. “At least
we know what kind of a man to look for. By the
way, how did you know that he wore leather leggins?”

“He lost a buckle!” replied Will. “I found it on
the floor under Bert’s bunk. And so, you see,” the
boy went on, “when we find a man wearing leather
leggins from which a buckle has been lost, we’ll be
perfectly justified in keeping close watch of him.”

“It seems as if there must have been a struggle
here!” George argued in a moment. “The man lost
hair, whiskers, a buckle, and a patch off his hunting
shirt! I don’t see how I could have slept through
it all!”

“Well, you did!” returned Sandy, “and that’s all
there is to it!”

“Are we going out tonight?” asked George.

“Of course, we are!” answered Sandy. “We’re
not going to crawl into bed in comfort and leave Bert
in the hands of some brigand!”

Will held up his hand for silence, and the boys sat
looking at each other with questioning eyes as a
soft knock came on one of the windows.

In an instant their eyes were turned in the direction
of the sound, and what they saw caused them
to spring excitedly to their feet.

During the silence which followed, the sound of a
heavy footstep was heard at the door of the cabin.
When they looked again nothing was to be seen at
the window.

Chapter X

IN LUCK AT LAST

Instead of moving toward the dinghy, the boys
sprang to the top of the trunk cabin and dashed
forward toward the wheel.

With an oath Jamison tried to clamber back to the
deck of the motor boat, but the dinghy was just then
performing a bit of nautical gymnastics at the bottom
of a trough and he did not succeed in reaching the
desired footing. He fell back into the bottom of the
boat, cursing the two rowers because they had not
assisted him.

As Frank and Tommy sprang forward over the
cabin the man at the wheel released his hold and
reached for a pistol. The boat swung around and
would have been capsized only that Frank seized
the wheel and brought her head to the waves again.

The wheelsman struck a savage blow at the boy
as he threw the wheel around, and was in turn the
object of attack from Tommy. The two went to the
deck together and came near being thrown into the
sea.

When the short battle ended the wheelsman lay
on the deck unconscious, his head rolling from side
to side as the boat tossed about on the waves. In
the fall his head had struck the rail.

Seeing that Jamison and the rowers were still
trying to board the motor boat, Sam rushed to the
after deck and threatened them with his revolver.
In a moment Jamison presented a thirty-eight at the
boy’s head.

“This is piracy!” he shouted. “Surrender, or I’ll
blow your head off! This is piracy, I tell you!”

The only reply to the man’s threat was the increased
clatter of the motors. Tommy had turned
on full power, and Frank was heading the craft for
the mouth of Copper river. As she drew away from
the dinghy, several harmless shots were fired.

“That was a close shave!” Tommy declared as
the three boys gathered on the forward deck. “If
Jamison hadn’t been a fool, we couldn’t have done it!
Can you find your way to Cordova, Frank?” he
added.

“Sure I can!” was the reply, “but I take it that we
don’t want to go there just now.”

“And why not?” asked Tommy is surprise.

“Because this is piracy, all right!” exclaimed the
boy. “Old Jamison was right, and he’ll have all the
officers along the coast after us as soon as he gets to
land. We’re in bad with the cops now.”

“But Jamison won’t be able to get to land tonight!”
suggested Sam.

“Indeed he won’t!” agreed Frank. “He’ll have
to pull in toward the island and lie there on his oars
until daylight.”

“Can’t he land?” asked Tommy.

“I don’t think he can land in the dark!” was the
reply.

“Why can’t we get to Cordova and get back here
with the surgeon before he can communicate with
the officers?” asked Tommy. “We can’t afford to
go into hiding just now. We’ve got to get the doctor
up to the cabin, and we’ve got to find out what that
code message contained.”

“How far is it from here to Cordova?” asked
Frank.

“It must be about thirty-five or forty miles,”
replied Sam. “If the waves wouldn’t keep us
traveling up and down all the time, we ought to make
it in about three hours.”

“Jamison was trying to make us believe he was
doing a fine thing if he took us to Cordova and back
in ten or twelve hours!” said Tommy.

“I don’t think he intended to take us to Cordova
at all!” insisted Sam.

“Well,” Tommy argued, “there’s no way he can
stop us until we get to Cordova, and he can’t stop us
then unless he reaches the coast or gains the wireless
station before we leave the town. Once out on the
gulf again, with the surgeon on board, we’ll reach
Katalla in spite of Jamison, and start the doctor
toward the cabin.”

“Then here goes for the town!” cried Frank, turning
on an extra bit of power and sending the boat
through the waves like a meteor.

It was rough riding, but the boys were fairly good
seamen and stood the shaking up well.

About midnight the wheelsman began showing
signs of consciousness. He sat up on the swaying
deck and motioned for water.

“Tip him overboard!” advised Sam.

“Aw, give him a drink,” argued Tommy. “If
you’d had had as much red liquor during the last
few hours as he’s had, you’d want to connect with
the water cooler, I guess! Give the man a show!”

“Where are you taking the motor boat?” asked
the wheelsman.

“Cordova.”

“Is that right about your wanting a surgeon?”

“That is right!” replied Tommy.

“Where is he wanted?” asked the wheelsman, who
had given the name of Boswell. “Why didn’t you
bring the sick boy out with you?”

“Because we thought it better to take the surgeon
to him!” replied Tommy. “The boy really wasn’t
able to be moved!”

“Fever?” asked Boswell.

Tommy hesitated a moment before replying. He
was in doubt as to just how much he ought to tell
Boswell. The fellow seemed to be friendly enough,
and might be useful in case the lads were arrested
for piracy, as, if he saw fit, he could testify that
Jamison was not carrying out his agreement with
them, but, instead, was planning to maroon them
on a barren island in the gulf. Owing to these considerations
it seemed best to keep on good terms with
the fellow, and yet Tommy did not care to describe
in full what had taken place at the cabin.

“No, the boy isn’t sick of fever,” Tommy finally
answered. “He received a wound on the head and
lies unconscious.”

Both boys thought they saw Boswell give a quick
start, but in a moment his face was as impassive as
ever.

“Do you know what Jamison was up to?” asked
Sam after a short pause.

Boswell looked keenly at the boy before answering.

“I only know what he told me!” be replied.

“What did he tell you?”

“He said he had a joke on you boys; that he was
charging you three hundred dollars for a trip to
Cordova, and that he meant to leave you on the first
little island in the gulf that he came to.”

“Did he tell you why he was going to do that?”
asked Tommy.

Again Boswell looked keenly at his questioner.

“I guess I’d better not answer that question,” he
said finally.

“I wish you would answer it,” Tommy urged. “I
ought to know just what motive the fellow has for
throwing obstacles in my way.

“He thinks it’s funny!” answered Boswell.

“That isn’t the correct answer,” Tommy insisted.
“He has some motive for what he is trying to do.
I’d like to know what that motive is.”

“You can’t find out from me!” declared Boswell.

“You must be a chum of his!” sneered Sam.

“I hate the ground he walks on!” replied Boswell.
“I wouldn’t have hired out to him at all if I hadn’t
been drunk. But I’m not going to repeat to any
one what he told me in confidence!”

“We shall have to put you off some distance this
side of Cordova,” Tommy suggested, “because if
we don’t you’re likely to make us trouble by reporting
the case of alleged piracy as soon as we land.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself about my reporting
anything,” Boswell answered. “I’m not mixing
with Jamison’s affairs! If you boys are arrested for
piracy, I’ll tell all I know about it, and that won’t
do you any harm.”

Dawn came slowly that morning, for heavy clouds
were gathering in the sky. The short Arctic night
came to an end at last, however, and in the murky
distance the boys saw the long coast line. Shortly
after three o’clock they passed the wireless station
and landed, not without some difficulty at Cordova.

They found the town asleep, of course, but after
a time an early riser directed them to the residence
of a surgeon. They arranged with him to meet them
later in the day and at once set out for the wireless
station. It was two hours before they saw the
operator coming to his post of duty.

He remembered Frank, and willingly promised to
at once open communication with Seattle and take
up the work of securing a duplicate of the code
message. He explained that a copy had been kept,
but that it had been destroyed by a careless janitor,
who had said that he could make nothing at all
of the jumble of words and letters!

As soon as Seattle answered the Cordova call, a
duplicate of the code telegram was asked for, and
Seattle undertook to place the request on the wire
and cause it to be rushed through to Chicago.

“We ought to receive the answer some time this
afternoon,” the operator said as the boys started
away.

Chapter XI

MAKING NEW PLANS

When the boys returned to the floating dock at
which the motor boat had been tied during their
absence at the station they found Boswell sitting in
the cabin in a crouching attitude.

“Did you get what you wanted?” he asked.

Tommy shook his head.

“Then,” continued the sailor, “you’d better give
over trying to get it for the present and duck away
from here! You’ll have trouble if you don’t!”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Frank.

“Do you see the tug coming up the bay?” asked
Boswell.

“Certainly!” was the reply.

“Well, she’s been signalling to have this boat held
until she arrives! And the chances are that she
picked up Jamison and his pirates somewhere near
the island where you left them.”

“Then, of course, Jamison will want us arrested
for piracy?” asked Tommy tentatively. “I presume
that’s what it means.”

“Well”, Boswell replied, “when you take another
man’s boat and leave him afloat in a dinghy, you
must expect something to come of it besides kisses.
Of course you’ll be arrested!”

Frank gave a long, low whistle of dismay.

“Then,” he said, “we’ll have to go and notify the
surgeon of what’s coming off and get him to go on to
the cabin alone.”

“Yes” Tommy added, “and we can tell him to
inform the boys what’s going on here. We may have
to remain here for several days if we are actually
arrested.”

“But how about the code duplicate?” asked Sam.

“I presume that will have to remain with us unless
it comes before the doctor leaves for the cabin,”
Tommy answered.

“Look here,” Sam said, “you two boys are the
fellows Jamison wants. He won’t put up much of a
search for me. You go back to the wireless station
and tell the operator to deliver the code duplicate to
me and I’ll see that it gets to the cabin.”

“It’s all right of you to make the offer,” Tommy
replied, “but there’s no one at the camp that can
read it.”

“Then why can’t Frank slip away and get the
message to camp?” inquired Sam.

“Will certainly ought to have it,” suggested
Tommy.

“I’ll tell you what we’d better do,” Frank advised.
“We’d better make a rush for the Cordova dock
before that tug gets in. Then we can arrange with
the doctor to go on to the cabin by any conveyance
he can secure while we take a sneak into the wilderness
and get back when we can and as we can.
That’s better than being arrested.”

“I’m for it!” declared Sam. “But how will you
obtain possession of the wireless when it comes if
you duck away in advance of the arrival of the tug?
The message won’t be here as soon as the tug is.”

The boys pondered over this proposition for a
moment, and then Frank came to the front with
another suggestion.

“I’ll go back to the wireless station,” he said,
“and arrange for the operator to leave the message
in some secret hiding place where we can get it after
nightfall.”

“I don’t like this fugitive-from-justice business!”
exclaimed Tommy.

“I don’t either,” replied Frank, “but it’s a long
ways better than lying in some dirty old jail. We
can arrange here with father’s agent to find out
what sort of a case they’ve got against us, and pick
out a good lawyer to represent us, so we’ll be all
ready to defend ourselves when the arrest is finally
made.”

“Your father has an agent here?” asked Tommy,
regarding Frank suspiciously. “What business is
he in?”

“Oh, quit it!” replied Frank. “We haven’t any
time to talk about private affairs. What we’ve got
to do right now is to find out how we’re going to
escape arrest at this time. I’ll go and make the
arrangement with the operator, and we’ll all make
the arrangements with the doctor, and then we three
boys will start across country to the little old log
cabin in the lane!”

“There ain’t no lane there!” grinned Tommy.

“There may be some time, when that part of the
country becomes a suburb of Cordova!” laughed
Frank. “But I reckon I’d better be getting back to
the wireless office. That tug’s coming in hand over
hand!”

The boy was back from the office inside of ten
minutes, but by that time the tug was so near that
the motor boat was obliged to shoot ahead at full
speed in order to keep clear of her. The boys saw
Jamison standing by the captain urging him to
greater efforts in the speed direction, and saw him
shake a huge, ham-like fist in their direction as the
motor boat left the tug behind.

“I’ll tell you why I want to leave the case in the
hands of a lawyer here,” Frank said, as the boat shot
toward the Cordova dock, “Jamison doesn’t want to
prosecute us boys for piracy. He’s interested in some
way in this case you are here to handle, and he wants
to keep us under lock and key until something he
wants done can be accomplished.”

“I’m sure that’s right!” Tommy answered.

“I don’t know much about this thumb-print
case,” Frank went on, “but I believe that this man
Jamison is trying to make sure that you boys don’t
get hold of the drawings you are looking for. Of
course I have no proof, but I’m sure that, in the long
run, you’ll find that I’m right?”

The motor boat made such good time in the run
for the Cordova dock that the tug was nearly out of
sight when the boys climbed into the main street of
the town.

“Now,” Tommy said, as they all stood together
at the principal business place of the town, “Frank
can go and make sure that the doctor will start for
the cabin immediately, and Sam and I will go and
buy provisions for the cross country trip. We may
be two or three days in making it, and we’ll surely
want to eat on the way.”

“But we can’t get the wireless until night!” urged
Frank. “He’s going to bring it to Cordova tonight
and leave it in the old blacksmith shop just back of
the line of store buildings.”

“Well, we can get all ready to go,” Tommy urged.
“We don’t want to take any chances on being
pinched just as we get ready to leave!”

“We’ll meet at the old shop in half an hour,”
Frank suggested, “and then we can make all the
plans necessary.”

Tommy noticed that afternoon that a strange
fatality seemed to accompany all of Jamison’s
efforts to cause the arrest of the boys. First, there
was no Federal officer in the town. Next, there
was no judicial or ministerial officer before whom a
complaint of piracy could be made. Next, the motor
boat owner and his two outlaws accosted Boswell
on the street and made to him insulting remarks
concerning his championship of the boys.

Following this there was a general mixup, in which
Boswell was not permitted to fight alone, and the
result was that Jamison and his two sailors were
badly beaten up. However, while the lads knew
exactly what was taking place, and understood the
hostility of the town toward Jamison, they understood,
too, that it would be the duty of almost any
officer to arrest them if they should make their appearance
on the public street.

Tommy wondered vaguely at the hostility displayed
toward Jamison, but Frank explained it all
by saying that the fellow was a common loafer and
hadn’t a friend in town.

The boys might have been arrested a dozen times
that day had the hostility to Jamison and his men
not taken such positive form. But while Jamison,
half-intoxicated, roared about the street, the boys
kept as quiet as possible and so escaped general
notice.

About two in the afternoon the boys were very
much surprised to see a gentleman who had been
pointed out to them as the surgeon walk into the
old blacksmith shop where they sat. He beckoned
Frank to one side and the two engaged in a short but
apparently satisfactory conversation, at the conclusion
of which the doctor shook the boy’s hand
heartily.

“All right,” he said on taking his departure, “I’ll
attend to the matter at once! I know the operator
and it’ll be all right there.”

“Now, what’s up?” demanded Tommy suspiciously.

“I’ve got a new scheme!” replied the boy.

“Pass it around!” urged Tommy.

“Now, you just wait until I see whether the doctor
gets the message or not!” replied Frank. “If he
does, it’s us for a ride home!”

“I’d like to steal that old drunkard’s motor
boat!” Tommy said.

Frank broke into a hearty laugh.

“You just wait and see!” he said. “We’ve got
to be mighty careful to keep away from the Federal
officers, for a deputy marshal has been sent for. Can
you get up a good hot run if you have to?”

“You bet I can!” answered Tommy.

“Well, we may get a signal to make a hot foot to
the dock directly,” the boy went on, “and if we do,
there mustn’t be any mistake about the pace you set.”

“Are you really going to steal the motor boat?”
asked Sam.

“I don’t know!” replied Frank. “We’ve been
waiting around here all day for something to take
place, and I guess it’s about time there was something
doing.”

“I thought you were going to wait until night
before sneaking out with the despatch,” suggested
Tommy, eyeing his friend suspiciously.

“When we made those plans,” replied Frank with
a grin, “I didn’t know how many friends I had in
town.”

“Is the doctor going with us?” asked Tommy.

“No,” was the reply, “we are going with him!”

“Aw, have it your own way,” Tommy exclaimed.
“I never could get any satisfaction talking with
you!”

The doctor returned to the old blacksmith shop
in an hour and called Frank outside. The two talked
together for a moment, and then the boy called out
the wonderful news that they wouldn’t even have to
run to the dock; that a carriage was waiting for
them!

“Something mighty funny about this!” mused
Tommy. “I’d like to know who that boy is that has
such luck in Alaska! Anyone would think he owns
the town, the way things are shaping themselves
here!”

A moment later a wagon drawn by a pair of sturdy
horses made its appearance in front of the old blacksmith
shop, and the boys took their seats. As they
did so the sound of a pistol shot came from around
the corner and Jamison dashed into view, hatless,
coatless, very red in the face and very excited as to
manner.

By his side appeared a man whom the doctor at
once recognized as a Federal officer. He came to
a halt when he saw the boys in the wagon.

“Wait!” he commanded, “I have warrants for
your arrest!”

Chapter XII

ANOTHER LOST “BULLDOG”

The step outside the cabin door halted, and the
boys stood silent for a moment, hardly knowing
whether to dispute the stranger’s entrance or to
admit him with a show of courtesy.

While they waited, Will glanced at the window
and saw the flutter of a white hand on the pane.

“That’s the Boy Scout salute!” he said.

“Another Boy Scout?” whispered Sandy. “I
wonder if it rains Boy Scouts up here in Alaska!”

“I wish there were a thousand here!” George
declared.

“I don’t care how many Boy Scouts show up just
now,” Will argued, “but I would like to know where
they all come from!”

There now came a knock on the door and a gruff
voice demanded admittance.

“Shall I open the door?” whispered Will.

“May as well,” answered George.

When the door swung open, a stout man of middle
age presented himself in the opening. After casting
a keen glance about the interior he stepped inside
and closed the door.

“You boys seem to have taken possession of my
home!” he said.

“We found the cabin unoccupied, and took the
liberty of using it,” Will answered in a conciliatory
tone.

“Oh, it’s all right!” returned the other. “That’s
the way I took possession of the place! I found the
cabin deserted and just moved in.”

“We can vacate if necessary,” Will suggested.

“Oh, there’s room enough for all of us, I take it!”
answered the stranger. “My name is Cameron,
and I spend only a day or two here occasionally. I
was hoping when I saw your light that you were
having a midnight supper. How about something
to eat?”

“There’s plenty in the cabin!” George replied.
“We can give you either fish or bear steak for
supper.”

“Then I’m glad to find you here!” laughed the
other, “for I’ve been traveling all day and I’m as
hungry as a wolf!”

The visitor threw himself into a chair and began a
careful survey of the interior, far more searching than
the one made from the doorway.

“My name is Cameron, as I said before,” he said,
“and I’m prospecting for gold.”

“Prospecting for gold on a glacier?” asked Will.

“Young man,” Cameron replied, “there is plenty
of gold in this vicinity. The ice brought it here.
I’m being laughed at by my friends,” he continued,
“because I’m searching for the mother lode. But,
all the same, I’ve every prospect of discovering it!”

“The mother lode in a glacier?” asked Sandy.

“It is my theory,” Cameron went on, “that the
range of mountains to the north holds gold in large
quantities. It is a part of my theory, too, that the
drifting ice brought tons of it down to the moraine.
If I find any gold here at all, I’ll find it in quantities
sufficient to clog the money markets of the world!”

Cameron looked from face to face as he spoke,
apparently anticipating a burst of enthusiasm from
his listeners.

“Up on the Yukon,” he went on, “the gold was
found under the ice, where it had been deposited by
glaciers which are now dead. The same conditions
exist here. For all we know, there may be tons of
the precious metal at the bottom of the first layer of
ice.”

“That’s very true!” replied Will. “And if you
don’t mind, we’ll stick around a short time and see
what you discover.”

“Remember,” Cameron said then, “that this is
my claim!”

“Of course,” Will answered, “we wouldn’t attempt
to rob you of any legitimate discovery.”

In the meantime George and Sandy were preparing
a supper for the visitor. With their heads bent low
over the gasoline “plate,” they discussed the personality
of the man and his theory in low conversation.

“How tall should you say that fellow was?” asked
Sandy.

“About five foot six!” was the reply.

“And he’s stout!”

“Decidedly so.”

“And he wears a leather hunting shirt, and leather
leggins, and he took off a pair of serviceable leather
gloves when he entered?”

“I see what you’re getting at,” George replied,
“Can you see whether there’s a buckle missing from
his leggins?”

“There is!” answered Sandy.

“And a patch missing from his hunting shirt?”

“Just as sure as you’re a foot high!”

“Did you ever see such nerve?” whispered George.
“He comes here and steals a sick boy, and then has
the nerve to return and claim the cabin!”

“Well, I’m glad he came,” Sandy whispered back.
“All we’ve got to do now is to play the sleuth when
he leaves the cabin.”

“You mean that if we follow him in his journeys
over the country we’ll be apt to find Bert?” asked
George.

“That’s just the idea!” replied Sandy. “I wonder
if his mug is sore where Bert extracted the whiskers?”

“I wonder if he expects to get a good night’s
sleep, with Bert lying in some uncomfortable hiding
place?” George asked. “I’d like to poke him in the
mug, just for luck!”

“That wouldn’t help us find Bert,” Sandy cautioned.
“We’ve just got to be good to him and follow
him wherever he goes.”

“Watch me put him off his guard,” George suggested.

“How long have you been in this neighborhood?”
he asked, turning to Cameron. “I ask,” the boy
continued, “because one of our chums wandered
away from the cabin while we were out fishing and
hasn’t returned.”

Cameron’s eyes sought the floor for a moment.

“I have just returned from the coast,” he said,
“so, unless your friend strayed off in that direction,
I wouldn’t have caught sight of him. Do you mean
that he strayed away in the darkness?” he asked.

“No,” replied George, “he strayed away this afternoon
while temporarily out of his mind. My friends
were out fishing, and I was asleep at the time. He
received a slight wound on the head, from a fall,
not long ago, and that is probably the cause of his
aberration of mind.”

The boys thought they saw a sudden expression of
satisfaction creep over Cameron’s face as George
finished his explanation.

“If you’ll serve Mr. Cameron’s supper,” Sandy
said, giving George a sly wink, “I’ll go with Will, and
we’ll take different directions so as to cover more
ground. We are getting anxious about Bert.”

Of course the object of the boys in leaving the
cabin was to meet the Boy Scout who had signalled
to them from the window. When they turned the
corner of the cabin, they found a thin, pale lad in a
torn and faded khaki uniform leaning against the
outer wall.

“Why don’t you come in?” asked Will.

“Is the miner in there yet?” asked the boy.

“Yes, he says the cabin belongs to him, and he’s
going to remain all night! What do you know of
him?”

“Nothing at all!” replied the boy, “except that
I’ve been following him for half a dozen miles in the
hopes that he would lead me to some place where I
could eat and sleep.”

“Did you call out to him?” asked Will.

“No,” was the answer. “I was afraid he would
send me back if I did. Miners in this section are
not fond of leading strangers to their claims.”

“Where do you belong?” asked Sandy pointing
to the Bulldog badge displayed on the boy’s ragged
coat.

“Bulldog Patrol, Portland,” was the reply.

“How’d you get out into this country in such a
plight?” asked Will.

“My chum and I,” was the reply, “started out to
seek our fortunes. We got to Katalla and couldn’t
get a thing to do. Sam—his name is Sam White—insisted
on remaining in town, but I made a break
for the country.”

“How long since you’ve had anything to eat?”
asked Sandy.

“About twenty-four hours,” was the reply.

“Well, come on in, then, and we’ll feed you up.”

“Of course I’ll go, now that I know that you are
running the camp,” replied the boy. “I suppose I
should have gone in anyway, directly, for just as I
came up I heard the man knocking at the door.
I was still afraid I’d get kicked out if I put in an
appearance at any miner’s cabin and asked for food,
but I should have risked it.”

“I didn’t know that miners did such things,”
Sandy observed.

“Some of them do, and some of them don’t,”
replied the boy.

“You haven’t given us your name yet,” suggested
Will.

“Ed Hannon,” was the reply.

“Well come on in the cabin, Ed Hannon,” laughed
Sandy, “and we’ll fill you up, but you mustn’t say a
word about having seen that miner, and if he talks to
you about the route by which you approached the
cabin lie like a thief! Which way did he come
from, anyway?”

“He came from the west,” was the reply. “I
plumped into him not far from one of the little
rivulets which joins Copper river not very far away.”

“There!” said Sandy. “Now I guess we’ve got
something tangible”.

Chapter XIII

THE BEGINNING OF THE TRAIL

When Will and Sandy entered the cabin with Ed
Hannon, Cameron sprang up to meet them. There
was a show of excitement in his manner as he exclaimed:

“So you found the lost boy, did you?”

“No,” Will replied, “this is not the lost boy, but
it is a lost boy!”

“Where did you come from?” asked Cameron
hastily, regarding Ed with a pair of bold, black eyes.
“How long have you been in this district?”

“I came from Katalla today,” answered the boy.

“Tonight, you mean,” corrected Cameron.

“I started early this morning,” replied Ed, “but
I guess I’ve been wandering around the country a
good deal. It seems that I came up to the cottage
from the north.”

Cameron sank back into his chair with a look of
satisfaction on his face. The boys now busied themselves
getting a substantial meal for Ed, and the boy
was soon attacking a generous slice of bear steak.

If Cameron had the plans bearing the thumb
marks, he was certainly the man to keep them concealed
if he believed them to be of any value whatever
to any one. If he did not have charge of the
plans, then the chances were that Vin. Chase, the
crooked clerk, had them and that any reference to
them in the presence of Cameron would be communicated
as soon as possible to the actual holder.

Will was certain that Cameron was the man who
had given the name of Len Garman by Mr. Horton
in the interview in which he had received his instructions.
At that time he did not believe that
Cameron, or Garman, whichever his name was, knew
anything whatever of the thumb prints on the plans.

He did believe, however, that the fellow would
fight to the death for the drawings, not because he
believed them to be of value as evidence, but because
he believed them to be of great value to one in quest
of mining machinery suitable for that section of the
country.

Directly Cameron began pacing to and fro in the
cabin and occasionally glancing out of the window.
There were only a few stars in sight and no moon,
but for all that the fellow appeared greatly interested
in the landscape outside.

“Are you expecting some one?” Will finally
asked.

“Certainly not,” was the reply. “Why do you
ask such a question?”

“Because you seem anxious about something.”

“I am anxious about something,” replied Cameron
seating himself by Will once more. “I don’t like
the idea of this boy coming in here with his story of
being lost on the moraine.

“You think he came here for a purpose?”

“I must say that I do!”

Will saw that Cameron was fearful that Ed had
brought in a message of some kind, and so talked to
the point for some moments in the hope of drawing
the miner out. But the miner only stared at Ed
with his evil eyes and said nothing of importance.

“I know what’s eating you, old fellow,” Will
thought to himself. “You think that there’s a gang
of Boy Scouts scattered over the moraine looking for
Bert, and you’re afraid they’ll find him!”

Sure enough this prognostication seemed to be the
true one, for directly Cameron drew on his head net
and leather gloves and walked to the door. He
paused there a moment and turned back to say to
Will:

“It will soon be morning, and I desire to get to the
point of my investigation before daylight. I have
been very courteously entertained and shall return
to your cabin at night, with your permission.”

“I guess it’s your cabin rather than mine!” replied
Will with a smile. “I think you are acting very
decently about our taking possession of it. Of
course you’ll always find food here as long as we
remain.”

With a wave of the hand at the group of boys
gathered about the table, Cameron went out and
closed the door. They heard him moving heavily
along toward the east and then came silence.

“He’s stopping to see if he’s watched,” suggested
Sandy.

“He’ll be watched all right!” George declared.

“But how?” asked Sandy.

“I’m the original sleuth!” George replied with a
grin. “I can follow the fellow by the sound of his
footsteps, even if he is wearing moccasins!”

“Does any one doubt that Cameron is the man
formerly known as Len Garman?” asked Will.

The boys all shook their heads, but Ed turned an
inquiring face toward the speaker.

“He gave the name of Cameron here, did he?” he
asked.

Will nodded.

“Well, that isn’t the name I heard him called by at
Katalla,” Ed declared.

“So you saw him at Katalla, did you?” asked
Sandy.

“Yes, I saw him at Katalla two days ago. He
seemed to have a lot of business with a young fellow
who appeared to be a stranger in the town.”

“What name did ho give there?”

“Brooks!” replied Ed.

“Well, we mustn’t stand here chinning while the
fellow is getting out of sight,” suggested George.
“I’m going to take after him right now!”

“Wait,” Sandy suggested, “and I’ll go with you.”

“Do you think he will go straight to Bert?” asked
Will.

“I have no doubt of it!” was the reply.

“It’s just this way,” George went on, “Cameron
is suspicious that a great effort is being made to discover
the whereabouts of the kidnapped boy, and
he can’t rest easy until he knows that he is safe. Besides,
the fellow would like to know whether Bert had
regained consciousness.”

“Yes, I presume he is anxious to learn what the
code despatch he stole contains,” Will answered.

“There was some talk,” Sandy said, directly,
“about Bert regaining consciousness before he left
the cabin. Do you think that possible?”

“No, I don’t!” replied George. “I should have
heard a struggle had anything of the kind taken
place. The fact of the matter is,” the boy went on,
“that Cameron thinks some one is after the drawings
he values so greatly. He found Bert here with
the code message and naturally concluded that the
cipher referred in some way to his plans.”

“Well, come on, then,” Sandy urged. “We’ll
have to be moving if we follow Cameron. I think
we’ve talked too long already.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Will declared.
“Cameron will hang around the cabin for half an
hour or more in order to see if any one leaves. Before
any one goes out, we’ll turn off the light and
make a noise like going to sleep. Then, when all is
good and dark, you two can slip out and locate the
miner if you can.”

“Locate him?” repeated Sandy. “We’ve got to
locate him. He’ll go straight to Bert and that’s
exactly where we want to go.”

The boys made a great commotion in the cabin as
if preparing for bed, and finally the lamp was extinguished,
leaving the room in complete darkness.

“Now, be careful when you open the door,”
whispered Will.

For a wonder the door opened noiselessly on its
hinges, and was closed without the slightest jar.
Directly Will heard a soft tap at the window and
pressed his face against the pane.

“Cameron is still in sight,” Sandy’s voice said,
“and not very far away. He seems to be satisfied
that we’ve all gone to bed, and is heading for the
west. Looks like he was following the trail we followed
when we went out after fish.”

“Go to it, then,” Will said. “Don’t expose yourselves
by being too rash, and don’t come back in the
morning without bringing Bert with you.”

“You watch me!” Sandy replied, and then he was
gone.

Chapter XIV

THE LAD WITH THE “DRAG”

When the federal officer appeared in front of the
spirited team, announcing that he had a warrant for
the arrest of the boys, Tommy and Sam both
whispered to the driver to cut loose with the whip.

“Run him down!” Tommy insisted.

“Jump the rig over him!” Sam advised.

The doctor, however, stretched forth a detaining
hand and the driver held in the horses.

“That’s right!” Frank exclaimed.

“You mustn’t get into any quarrel with the
officers,” Dr. Pelton suggested. “We can soon
settle this matter.”

“Je-rusalem!” exclaimed Tommy. “Here we’ve
been hanging around an old blacksmith shop all day,
and skulking through the streets, and not getting
half enough to eat, only to get pinched at the last
minute! If I had my way, I’d bump that officer
on the coco and make for the landing. We can’t
stay in this blooming little burg all the rest of our
natural lives. Will will be anxious.”

“Now don’t get excited!” laughed Frank. “We’ll
get out in, a few minutes, all right.”

“If it was so easy to get out in a few minutes,”
argued Tommy, “why didn’t you get out hours ago?”

Frank only laughed as the impatient question and
sprang out of the carriage. The doctor alighted,
too, and they both stood for a moment in close consultation
with the officer.

Jamison, who was now very drunk, stood weaving
about in the street, demanding that all the boys,
and the doctor, and the driver of the carriage, be
thrown into jail on a charge of piracy.

“Don’t you think,” Frank suggested to the officer,
“that this man is too drunk to be out on the street?”

“Why, of course he is,” replied the officer beckoning
to an associate who stood watching the group
from the next corner.

When the associate came up, Jamison was ordered
under arrest, and was taken away with many
threats and exclamations of rage.

“I don’t like this man Jamison any better than
you do,” the officer said, speaking to Frank and Dr.
Pelton, “but the case did look rather bad for the
boys, and I had to do something.”

“He collected three hundred dollars of me, for a
trip to and from Cordova,” Frank explained, “and
then tried to maroon us on one of the Barren islands.
There’s a member of his crew back here in the blacksmith
shop who will tell you the same story.”

“So you paid him three hundred dollars, did you?”
asked the officer.

“Yes, sir,” answered the boy.

“And you have proof that he tried to maroon
you?”

“Yes, sir!”

“And you took the boat only to enforce the contract
you had made?”

“That’s the idea!” replied Frank.

“Then I’m not going to bother with the case at
all!” replied the officer. “If you had come to me
with this story the minute Jamison began to rave
about arrest, you wouldn’t have been put to all this
inconvenience.”

“I think,” grinned Frank, “that Jamison ought to
pay us back the three hundred dollars, because he
never brought us to Cordova at all, and even if he
had, he wouldn’t have earned the money until he
returned us to Katalla. He ought not to keep the
money.”

“That’s a fact!” exclaimed the officer with a
smile at the boy. “I’ll go down to the jail and make
him give it back.”