"Go ahead."
"When you git to the top, you want to branch off this way—so. You'll find a clearin' about there, and off to the east you'll see some high hills. You want to make for them."
"And those hills, I suppose, is my destination."
"That's where the caves are. That's where youwill find the gang if they are hiding anywhere in that 'ere region."
"Now, tell me about the caverns. Tell me how to find them."
"They're easy enough to find—some of 'em is; others ain't. Wait a minute."
He pushed that paper aside, and took a fresh one.
"Now, when you come to the hills, you will approach 'em at what we call the Dog's Nose. So named because that's what it looks like. It's a rock that sticks out right about here, and you can't miss it. It looks exactly like a dog's nose, stickin' out and smelling things.
"You want to go right up under that there dog's nose; and when you git there you'll see a hole in the rock that ain't no bigger than the lower half of that window. It's a leetle bit of a hole, and it's as dark as a pocket inside it, too. Nobody, even if they found the hole, would ever think of going in there. It ain't invitin' to look at."
"How did you happen to go into it?"
"I didn't. I came out of it. I got lost in that cave for three days once, when I was a boy, and when I found my way out I came out of that hole. Nobody knows about that entrance but me, though I suppose lots of folks knows it's there."
"And it communicates with the cave?"
"It does. It'll take you to any part of the cave;and there is only one rule to follow in going through it. You'll want a light, though."
"I've got the light. What is the rule?"
"Always—no matter where you are in any of them caves, take the way to the right. Never take a gallery to the left, goin' in either or any direction. It's a rule that holds good in them caves. It's a sort of way that nature provided so's you could find your way through there; and I happened to discover what it was."
"It all sounds very simple and easy."
"And it is, if you've got the pluck and the sand. But it's a ticklish place. There is a good many places in there that I ain't never explored, and don't want to; and it's safe to bet that the hoboes ain't done it, neither. I reckon, mister, that that's about all I kin show you—hold on, though!"
"What now?"
"Well, there's one place up there which it might be handy for you to know about, and I don't think anybody but me knows about it, either."
"What is that?"
"Well, you might find occasion to want to hide yourself away while you are in there."
"That is more than likely, Bill."
"Well, just arter you pass through the hole that is under the Dog's Nose, and about twenty rods fromthere, you'll find a place where there is a bowlder sort of set into the rocks. You won't notice it unless you look for it, but it is there. Under it you'll find a small stone wedged fast. If you pull out that small stone, and then push on the big rock, it'll swing around like it was on a pivot, and you kin step inside the hole it leaves, and close up the door after you. You'll find an interestin' place in there, too, if you ever have occasion to use it, mister; and nobody will find you there, either."
The detective passed the remainder of that day, and much of the night, in old Bill Turner's company, and during that time they talked incessantly about the mountains to which Nick was going, about the caverns in those mountains, and the trails through them; and when the conversation was finished Nick felt that he could find his way without difficulty wherever he cared to go among them.
When he saw that the old man was tired out, he sent him to bed, and himself dropped upon a couch in Turner's living room, where he slept like a top till morning.
Soon after dawn they were both astir; and after they had eaten some breakfast, and Turner had made his usual pilgrimage to the post office, they began again upon the plans and went over them for the last time.
And then came the task of making the changes in their personal appearance. This, to the layman, sounds like no easy task; but to Nick Carter it was merely the practicing of an art of which he was thoroughly a master.
He had brought with him the things necessary toaccomplish the changes; and when the old man returned from the village he set to work—first upon himself—for he knew that he must make his own disguise letter perfect if he hoped to deceive such a man as Handsome.
He first made up his face, not with paints, but with stains that would not wash off, to represent the leathery, weather-beaten countenance of the old man; and here he was, perhaps, fortunate in the fact that the profusion of white whiskers worn by the old man rendered his face the easier to copy, and in reality concealed much of it from view.
Then he adjusted the beard.
But not as false beards are supposed to be adjusted. This was done almost hair by hair. That is, the beard was divided into tufts of hair, and each tuft was stuck on with a glue of Nick's own creation, so that there was no danger that it would drop off under any circumstances—and so that it could not be pulled off without drawing patches of skin with it.
And this was as it should be, since if any one should suppose that the whiskers might be false, and should seize them and pull sharply upon them, they would resist the effort exactly as if the beard was natural.
In height the two men were about the same. In figure, the old man was possibly somewhat stouter thanNick; but there was not enough difference to be noticeable.
The detective occupied about three hours in making up that disguise, so particular was he about it; but when it was finished at last it was perfect. So perfect, indeed, that Turner regarded him in amazement; then came closer to look into his eyes, and at last he said:
"I'm glad, Mr. Carter, that I didn't meet you on the street in that rig. It would have frightened me to death. I'd have been sure that I was dead and had met my own ghost, out for a walk."
That night, when the train bound for the city passed through Calamont at half-past eleven, a man climbed aboard of it who—if anybody had noticed him particularly—it would have been supposed was the same French Canadian lumberman who had appeared there the day before.
But there was no one there save the ticket agent, and he did not notice particularly. It is certain that he had no idea that in the black-haired man who went away was old Bill Turner.
But so it was. Nick had made the old man up in a representation of the Frenchman; or at least near enough to it so that in the darkness the difference would not be noticed; and the old man, being made to appear young, really felt young, and he went away joyously.
In his pockets he carried letters; one was to Chick, and the other was to Joseph, his confidential servant, in case Chick should happen not to be at home when Turner arrived there.
And those letters gave instructions that Turner was to be treated to everything he wanted, and that Chick and Ten-Ichi should take turns in showing him about the city. Nick assured them that they could help him quite as much in that way as if they were among the mountains with him, assisting him in the actual work.
And the next morning—the morning after the departure of Turner—Nick took the old man's place in the customary stroll, or hobble would be a better word, to the post office.
He stopped and talked with people as he met them, having posted himself, with the old man's aid, in what he was to say. And he stood around the post office steps for two hours, as Turner was in the habit of doing.
He was trying out the part; trying it on the dog, so to speak. And he was thoroughly satisfied with the result.
In his talks there in front of the post office he gave it out that he was going to take another trip into the woods; and as it was the season of the year when Turner had been in the habit of being absent, no surprise was felt. And that afternoon he literally pulled up stakes and started.
Once he was in the woods, Nick quickened his pace. He realized now that, figuratively, he had burned his bridges behind him, and that he must see the thing through to the end.
He did not fear the consequences at all; he felt that there was only one chance of his failure, and that was in the shrewd eyes and keen intelligence of Handsome.
Handsome had met Turner twice and talked with him each time. Nick knew Handsome well enough to know that the outlaw would have studied Turner very closely at those interviews; the question now was, would Handsome detect the fraud?
Nick did not think it likely; and, anyhow, the risk had to be taken.
That night the detective made himself a fire and camped in the woods; in the early morning he started on again.
In due course of time he came to the ravine, and went up it to the top as the old man had directed him to do. And he went around the "rocks with a sort of a twist in them" until he found the steps that were cut in the stones, and so mounted to the top.
Far up the second ravine he found the dead tree that hung over it, and the pathway up the side of the hill beside it; and that night he camped again in the woods.
He had not far to go that second morning, afterhe had eaten some breakfast, before he arrived at the Dog's Nose. It was ten o'clock in the morning when he got there.
All that morning Nick had noticed signs that he was approaching the region where he would find the hobo gang. He had seen where trees had been chopped down and corded up for firewood; and there were many other signs that many men were in the vicinity.
When he came to the shelter of the Dog's Nose, he stopped there, and, having fixed himself a temporary camp, resolved that he would remain there until night, for he had some hope that some of the hoboes would happen along, and that he could talk with them.
That was his game; not to sneak upon them unawares, but to let it be known that he was in the neighborhood, so that Handsome would come to him. He wanted that ordeal over with Handsome as soon as possible.
He was destined not to be disappointed. The afternoon was well advanced when Handsome suddenly stepped out of a cluster of balsams, and stood before him.
He had approached as silently as an Indian; as if he had passed his life in woodcraft, and, indeed, Nick had no doubt that he had.
For a moment he stood there near the balsams, silently regarding the detective; and Nick, perfectlyacting the part of Turner, looked up and nodded, but said nothing.
After a little Handsome strode forward, no longer taking care to remain quiet; and he seated himself on a log near Nick, and facing him, while at the same time he toyed with apparent carelessness with a revolver he held in his hand.
"What brings you here, Turner?" he asked at last.
"The season of the year brings me," was the reply. "I have come here every autumn at this time for more'n fifty years."
"Indeed!" Handsome looked at him with new interest. "Is that true?" he asked.
"I wouldn't have any reason to lie to ye, would I?" asked Nick. "Old Bill Turner hasn't missed a year in fifty years in coming here, Mr. Handsome."
"Then you must know these hills mighty well, eh?"
"I know every inch of 'em; every leaf that falls on 'em, almost. That's the way I know 'em."
"And do you know about the places under the hills as well?"
"Do you mean the caves?"
"I do."
"I know 'em purty well—yes. There is some parts of 'em that nobody knows, I reckon; and while I—well, maybe I don't know all about 'em, and maybe I'd get lost in 'em now; only I don't think so."
"What do you know about that hole up there, under that rock that is shaped like the nose of a dog?"
"I know it's a hole. I reckon that's about all that anybody knows about it. It's a dark sort of a place. I ain't got no fancy for goin' into it."
"Does it connect with the main part of the cavern?"
"Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn't; but most likely it does; only I don't think that anybody would be after trying to find out."
"You have never been through that hole, then?"
"I ain't never been inside of it," replied Nick, with perfect truth.
Handsome thought a moment, and then he asked suddenly:
"Turner, who sent you up here?"
"Nobody sent me; why?"
"Didn't the people of Calamont send you to find me and my followers?"
"Nary a bit of it."
"Well, now that you have seen me, and know that I am here, and therefore guess that others are here with me, what would you do about it if you should go back to Calamont now, and somebody there should ask you if you had seen me?"
"Look here, Handsome, I don't meddle with other people's affairs. I want 'em to leave mine alone, and consequently I leave theirn alone. You hear me speak!"
"But what answer would you make if that question was asked of you?"
"I probably shouldn't answer at all."
"Suppose an answer was insisted upon?"
"I ain't never found nobody yet who could make old Bill Turner answer a question if he didn't want to."
"Do you mean that you would not wish to answer that question?"
"Look here, Handsome, if you want me to promise that I won't tell on ye, why don't you say so? What you and your fellers do ain't none of my funeral, so long as you leave me alone. Do you think I came up here to spy on you?"
"That is what I thought when I first discovered you."
"Well, forget it. I ain't carryin' no tales. I'd 'a' been dead long ago if I had done that. Life's too short. I ain't never mentioned to nobody about the two times I have met you, and I ain't likely to, either. I ain't got time. You ain't robbed my house, and I don't care what you do as long as you leave me alone."
Again Handsome was silent a while, and then he said suddenly:
"Turner, would you like to go to our camp?"
"No; that is, I ain't particular about it. You might think I was trying to spy on ye—or some of the men might, and that would make me mad."
"They won't think anything of the kind if I take you there."
"All right. If you want me to go—I'll go."
"Come along, then. You have got this far, and we've either got to trust you, or kill you. It will depend upon you which that will be."
Keeping in his mind's eye the plans that Turner had made for him, Nick knew perfectly the route over which Handsome led him on the way to the camp, to which he had referred.
It was a picturesque place. Turner had described it in detail to the detective, and had mentioned it as the most likely place for the outlaws to make their headquarters. He had said:
"Ye see, mister, it's a sort of sasser in the mountings. There ain't only one way to git to it from the outside, and that is a purty hard one; so hard that half a dozen men could hold it agin' a thousand; and the other way to git to it is through the caves; and ye've got to know them galleries mighty well in order to find yer way through. I think you'll do it, because you act as if you had been in caves afore."
The place was a "sasser" in the mountains, sure enough. On every side of it there were frowning cliffs, which rose hundreds of feet in the air; and these cliffs were as inaccessible from the outside as they were from the saucer itself. There was only onepathway, and that was through a narrow fissure, barely wide enough for one big man to walk through it.
And this latter could have been stopped up with rocks in half an hour, so that nobody could get through it.
Handsome made the supposed Turner walk in front of him when they entered the fissure; and thus it was that they appeared on the opposite side of it; then Handsome took the lead.
Already the hoboes had erected cabins of slabs and of logs; and many of them were still at work building others; but as with one accord they ceased to work when they saw Handsome approaching with the old man; and they stared at him.
"Have you got another one, Handsome?" somebody called out to him; but Handsome deigned no reply, passing on in silence, and leading the way to a cabin that was larger and better than the others, and which stood exactly in the centre of the miniature valley.
Nick guessed that this was the temporary home of Black Madge, and he was, therefore, not at all surprised when she stepped out upon the porch in front of it.
She showed her white and even teeth, and smiled, in her own bold way, as Handsome approached her, with Nick in tow; and she asked, as soon as they were near enough:
"Whom have we here?"
"It is the old chap I have told you about, Madge," replied Handsome.
"Sent here to spy upon us, I suppose," she smiled scornfully. "Why didn't you shoot him at once instead of bringing him here?"
Before Handsome could reply, Nick wheeled upon him.
"Didn't I tell ye so?" he demanded, with a show of anger. "Didn't I tell ye so? Didn't I say that they be thinking that I was a spy; but you wouldn't have it so? Tell me that."
"I don't think he is a spy, Madge," said Handsome. "Remember that I have known him for a considerable time. And I have found him on the level."
Madge shrugged her shoulders.
"All right," she said. "That is, all right this time. Only now that he is here, he stays. Don't forget that."
"Oh, I haven't forgotten that."
"Nobody leaves this valley without my permission; not a single one."
"They are all pretty well satisfied that you mean that, Madge."
"Now, tell me what you brought the old man here for."
"Because he knows every inch of the galleries inside those caves. I want to know about them myself, and I want the old man to teach me about them. Thetime will come, Madge, when we will be mighty glad to know about those galleries."
"Possibly so," she replied. "Do as you like with him; only remember—nobody leaves this valley without my permission. When I get the men thoroughly organized and so they will do what I want them to do, then I will turn loose upon the world one of the best—and the worst—criminal organizations that has ever been heard of. Do what you please with the old man. He looks old enough to have been dead long ago."
"And as old as I am, madam, I've never before heard a woman speak so to me," said Nick, as if he were hurt by it.
Madge turned to him quickly.
"You mustn't mind what I say—always Turner," she said. "I have a habit of speaking harshly at times; but I am not unkind to those who are true to me. Do you happen to know a man who is named Nick Carter?"
She asked the question suddenly, as if she expected the utterance of the name would make the supposed Turner start with surprise; but Nick looked at her quite calmly, and replied:
"I know the name. He's a detective chap, ain't he? I heerd about him; something about that bank robbery."
"Is he in Calamont now, Turner?"
"No, ma'am; he ain't."
"You speak positively."
"Well, I know he wasn't there when I came out of town; and I didn't hear that he was expected there, nuther. And if he had been expected there I'd 'a' heerd it. There ain't nothin' goin' on in that town that I don't hear about."
"Do you know if he has been sent for?"
"I ain't heerd nothin' about his bein' sent for, ma'am."
"If, some day, I should decide to send you into the village to do some errands for me, do you suppose you could make some inquiries about Nick Carter for me, and at the same time forget all that you know about us, who are here?"
"I reckon I could, ma'am."
"I'll think about it. I may want to use you," she said; and turned away. But she stopped and turned toward them again, calling to Handsome, who went to her side; but Nick could hear the conversation that passed between them.
"What about that fellow Pat?" she heard Madge inquire; and he could barely refrain from giving a start that might have betrayed him, for that question told him plainly that Patsy had already managed to arrive among the hoboes, and—that his fate still hung in the balance. He listened eagerly for Handsome's reply.
"I haven't had a chance to examine him yet," hesaid. "You wished me to talk with him before I brought him to you."
"Go and bring him here now. Leave Turner here with me until you return."
"Get up there on the porch and sit down, Turner," he said. "Smoke your pipe if you wish to. The queen won't object. I'll be back in a moment."
But when Handsome had hurried away to bring Patsy, and Nick had seated himself upon a rustic chair, Madge came and stood in front of him.
"Turner," she said severely. "Tell me the truth now. What brought you into this neighborhood?"
"The season of the year brought me," Nick replied to her as he had done to Handsome.
"Who sent you?"
"Nobody sent me, ma'am."
"Swear to that."
"'Tain't necessary. I have said it."
"Do you know what would happen to you if I should find that you were acting as a spy?"
"I suppose I could guess."
"I'd have you burned at the stake, just as Indians used to burn their captives."
"Well, ma'am, I reckon I've lived too long a time now to be much afraid of death. When a man has passed eighty, he ain't much afraid of things."
"Are you as old as that?"
"Old Bill Turner is eighty-four, ma'am; but he don't look it, does he?"
"No. I wish I could feel sure of you. I wish I could feel sure that you are not a spy."
"Well, ma'am, it's my experience that we can't somehow help our feelings much. If you are in doubt about it, treat it as you would an earache—with silent contempt. Doubts, ma'am, are suthin' like boils; they're the devil and all while you've got 'em; but they do get well arter a while. You ain't got no call to doubt old Bill Turner, as I knows on."
"I'll talk with you again, Turner. In the meantime, see that you walk in a straight line."
"I can't do that no more. My old feet ain't so steady as they used to be. But I'll do the best I can."
"We can't ask anybody to do more than that. Now keep silent. Here comes Handsome with another man who I fear may be a spy."
Patsy, with his hair a brick-red, and with spots and freckles on his face that were a sight to see, came forward at that moment, led by Handsome.
His hands were tied together behind his back, and he looked as if he had been treated rather badly. However, there was a grin upon his face as he approached, and ducked his head in what was intended to be a polite bow to the queen of the outlaws.
"So you have come back again?" she demanded of him abruptly.
"Yes, I'm back, your honor—I mean, ma'am," he replied, grinning the more.
"Where have you been while you were away, then? Tell me that?"
"Well, sure, your majesty, I was a-runnin' most of the time. When the fire broke out down there, and the divil to pay generally, they all thinkin' as how it was y'rsilf that was bein' burrnt to death inside the cottage, I helped all I could until it was found out that it wasn't you, at all, at all, but a dummy that had been fixed up to look like you. And then when the hull bunch of the spalpeens went crazy and tried to find out what had become of you, it wasn't long until I found out that I was all alone in that place, the rest having gone in search of you. And after that I thought it wasn't healthy for me around there."
"I think you're a spy, Pat," she said coldly.
"Divil a bit of it. Who says so? Don't you belave it!"
"Why did you not stay with the rest of the men, then?"
"Divil a wan of me can tell that same, now. I clean forget. I think I was scared out of me two wits. If I had been a long time wid yez, instid of bein' there only wan day, sure I'd have remained, so I would. But I'd been there so little that I thought it wasn't healthy for me. That's all."
"What made you come back now?"
"Sure I heard that ye'd escaped from your jailers, and I knowed that you'd be after protecting me. Didn't you tell me that I was all right? And, thinks I, if I can find 'em now, sure the quane will be after takin' care of me; and here I am."
"When I heard that you had returned, I made up my mind to have you shot!"
"Oh, glory be to gracious! Don't be after doin' that same, your honor! Faith, why should ye be after shootin' the likes of me? I ain't done nothin' at all."
Patsy, with a perfect assumption of fright, fell upon his knees before the woman and raised his hands beseechingly to her.
And for a moment she looked down upon him with cold contempt in her eyes. It was evident to Nick, who was watching the scene narrowly, that she was coldly calculating the chances of letting him live, and that a breath upon the scales either way would decide her.
For a long time she remained in the same attitude, and then she raised her head and spoke to Handsome.
"When one in my position is in any doubt," she said coldly, "there is only one thing to do, and that is to give myself, not the other person, the benefit of the doubt. That is what I have decided to do, Handsome. Take him away."
"What shall I do with him?"
"Take him back to the cabin where he was tied up,and tie him up again. To-night, when the fires are lit, we will convene a court and try him. I will be the judge at that trial, and after it is over we will probably hang him. I see no other way. Take him away. Go."
It was a strange scene upon which the light of a huge camp fire shone that night, in the mountain retreat of the outlaws.
A stake had been set in the ground, and to this Patsy was tied, so that all could see him plainly. Somewhat to one side, on a huge rustic chair, made by one of the men, the queen was seated in state, ready to act as judge at the trial that was to begin, and Cremation Mike was selected as prosecuting attorney.
A jury of twelve of the men had been drawn, only it was a foregone conclusion that they would bring in their verdict according as the queen should direct.
Handsome acted as master of ceremonies, and around them was gathered the entire membership of Black Madge's hobo gang—as villainous a looking crew as might be imagined.
As yet, no one had been appointed to defend Pat, and now Madge raised one hand, when she was ready to begin the trial, and she announced:
"There is no one who has offered to act as attorney for the prisoner. This trial will afford you some amusement, my men. We will have a good time outof it, anyhow, before we hang him. I will appoint counsel for him."
They were all silent, waiting, and presently she spoke again.
"I will name the old man there, Bill Turner, as counsel for the defense. Will you defend the man, Turner?"
"I'll try to, madam, though I don't know anything about the case. He may be guilty for all I know. What is he charged with?"
"With being a spy."
"If you want me to defend him, I'll do my best."
"Go ahead, then. Let the trial begin," she ordered.
The prosecution took up the case; that is, Cremation Mike got upon his feet and began to make a speech to the jury. He said:
"We've got proof enough that the man is a spy, ain't we, mates? We all know what happened down there in the swamp, the time that Nick Carter got among us, and carried away Black Madge almost before our eyes, and we none the wiser for it. We know how Nick Carter set the cottage afire after drugging Madge, and how then he fixed up a dummy in one of the windows, so that we would think that she was burning up. We know that, don't we, mates?
"And don't we know that there were four men who came to our camp in the swamp at the same time, and who came together? Wasn't one of that four NickCarter himself? And were not two others of that same four Nick Carter's assistants? And who was the fourth one of that four? Why, it was that cove there, tied to the stake, and waiting for you to hang him.
"Would he have been in that sort of company if he hadn't been made out of the same kind of cloth? Didn't he come there with that other outfit? Didn't we prove—that is, didn't Madge prove that one of the four was Nick Carter; that another of the four was his assistant, who is called Chick? And that still another of the four was another assistant, who is called Ten-Ichi?
"And don't you know that Nick Carter has got still another assistant, and that his other assistant is named Patsy? Haven't you heard of that? It is true. And so is this fellow's name Pat—or Patsy. It is all the same.
"Now, again, didn't they come here together? Didn't Handsome find them camping in the woods, waiting for a chance to get to our camp, and didn't this fellow tell him the first one of the bunch that he was looking for Hobo Harry, the Beggar King—and ain't Hobo Harry and Black Madge one and the same? I tell you, there ain't any doubt that the man is a spy, and that he ought to be hanged.
"Now, do you guns remember what happened the night of the fire, the time when Nick Carter got awaywith Madge, and took her to jail? I'll remind you of it. Don't you remember that when we found the other two out, they were sent to the quicksand pit? I was one of those who helped to throw them into the quicksand pit. Did you ever hear of anybody's getting out of that pit alive? I never did until that incident; but I have found out since that both those assistants, Chick and Ten-Ichi, are alive and kicking, down in New York, this very day.
"Well, who got 'em out of that quicksand pit, then? Why, this fellow! That is where he was, and what he was doing while we were fighting the fire, and don't you forget it! We was all too busy to remember about the men we had chucked into the sand; but he didn't forget. For why? Because he was one of them himself, and because he had determined all along to go to that pit as soon as ever he could, and get them out of it.
"How'd he get 'em out, you ask? I don't know. I only know that he did get 'em out somehow, for they are out. I know that for certain."
Nick, in the character of Turner, leaped to his feet.
"I object!" he cried out. "This man ain't tryin' this case fair. I don't know who he is, and I don't keer a cuss; I only know that you app'inted me to defend him, and I'm a-goin' to do it till you tell me to stop. I object, ma'am, to the course he is adoptin'. It ain't fair. He's making a lot of statements thewhich he ain't got a shadow of proof about. I don't know anything about that air fire he speaks about, 'ceptin' what I've heerd down at Calamont. But we ain't got the fire here as a witness; and we ain't got the quicksand here as a witness; and we ain't got the two men as he says was saved from it here as witnesses. And unless he can produce witnesses to testify to what he says about them air escapes, I move that the hull speech he made be strucken out, your honor. Let him call his witnesses to the stand, and swear 'em, or swear at 'em. Let him do suthin, 'cept standing up there and shootin' off his mouth."
Madge smiled grimly. She was getting more enjoyment out of this affair than she had anticipated.
"Call your witnesses, Mike," she said.
"I ain't got none, Madge, to swear to what I have said, but every one here knows it is the solemn truth. I don't need no witnesses. However, I'll put Handsome on the stand fur a minute, about the way the bunch arrived at our camp, if you say so."
"I think it would be a good idea. It would be more regular."
"All right, Madge. Handsome, take the stand. Hold up your right hand, and swear that you'll tell the truth. That's all right. Now, did you hear what I said about your findin' that outfit in the woods north of the track?"
"I did."
"Wasn't it the dead-level truth?"
"It was."
"The hull four was there, warn't they?"
"They were."
"And they was all strangers?"
"They were."
"You never seen any one of them afore that time, had you?"
"Never."
"And, later, wasn't it found out that three of 'em were spies?"
"It was."
"And wasn't one of the spies Nick Carter himself?"
"Yes."
"And weren't the other two his assistants?"
"They were."
"Didn't they confess it?"
"They did."
"And weren't they afterward thrown into the quicksand pit to die?"
"They were."
"Did they die there?"
"I don't think they did."
"Don't you know that they escaped?"
"I'm reasonably certain of it."
"How did they escape?"
"I don't know that."
"Isn't it your opinion that this galoot here——"
"I object!" shouted Nick.
"Oh, well," exclaimed Mike, in disgust, "ask him some questions yourself, then."
"I will. Handsome, when did you first see them four in the woods north o' the track?"
"Oh, I don't know. Before dark that night."
"Was they together?"
"Part of the time."
"Only part o' the time? What do you mean by that?"
"They didn't come there together."
"Oh, didn't they? Where was you?"
"I was hiding, and watching them."
"So you saw 'em all when they arrived there, did you?"
"Yes."
"Who got there first?"
"This man—Pat."
"Did the others appear to know him?"
"No; but they didn't appear to know each other, either."
"But if they were spies, and you afterward proved that they were, and if they got there, and found Pat already there, it would be natural that they should act as if they didn't know each other, wouldn't it, in order to deceive him?"
"I suppose so."
"Have you ever seen anything suspicious about the prisoner?"
"No; only his disappearance after the fire and the arrest of Madge."
"P'r'aps he kin explain that."
"He can't. He has tried already. You heard him. I don't call that an explanation, but it is probably the best he can give."
"Would you be afraid to trust him now?"
"Personally? I don't think I would."
"Then, personally, you don't think that he is a spy?"
"No; but I don'tknowthat he isn't."
"That'll do. I don't want to ask you any more questions." He turned to Cremation Mike. "Have you got any more witnesses?" he asked.
"No," with a grin. "I don't need no more."
"Maybe not. But I've got one witness."
"Oh! Have you. Who is it?"
"I'm going to put the prisoner on the stand."
But Madge was plainly tired of the amusement already. She rose in her place, and her eyes were flashing darkly.
"We will stop this farce here and now," she said. "It won't do any good, anyhow. I can see plainly enough that there are some here who believe he is a spy. I am a good deal of that opinion myself; and as there is a doubt in my mind, I'll just settle the thingright now. Jury, you can find the man guilty. That's what he is, probably."
"Guilty," said the jury, with one voice, and grinning.
"Prisoner," continued Madge, "you have got until to-morrow morning, at nine o'clock, to live. At that time the boys will take you to some convenient tree, and hang you by the neck until you're dead—and that settles it."
Things looked dark for Patsy. It was quite evident that Black Madge was in deadly earnest in what she had said. One life more or less was absolutely nothing to her, and if there was the breath of a suspicion against one, it was, from her standpoint, better to put that one out of the way at once than to run any sort of risk by permitting him to live.
Nor did the hoboes who had gathered there to hear and to witness the trial hesitate to voice their sentiments about it by loud cheering when Madge uttered the sentence of death. It would be a hanging, indeed, and it did not make much difference to them who was hung. It has been said before that they were much like wild beasts, or dogs, who are without any quality of compassion.
When Nick walked away from the scene of the trial near the fire, he found that Handsome was beside him, and then, before either uttered a word, Madge joined them.
She was smiling as if she were well pleased with her evening's work, and she said to the detective:
"You did well, Turner. One would suppose that you had at some time been a lawyer."
"I'd 'a' got the man free if I'd had a fair judge and jury," replied Nick boldly, stroking the white whiskers he wore.
Madge frowned. Then she laughed aloud.
"I like you for your boldness," she said. "But have a care that you do not find yourself suddenly in the same predicament, Turner."
"I'd be inclined to shoot myself afore I came to trial, if I should," Nick retorted.
They had reached Madge's cabin by this time, and now they mounted to the porch, and Nick pulled out an old pipe that Turner had given him, filled it, and lighted it.
The detective was determined in his own mind that before the dawn of another day he would find some way to save Patsy; but how it was to be done he had no idea.
He did not know yet what disposition they intended to make of him. For all he knew they might send him into one of the cabins and lock him up for the night. But he did know that unless he acted, Patsy would be murdered at sunrise the following morning, and he did not intend to permit that to happen.
"Miss Madge," he said, after a pause, during whichhe had smoked in silence, "if it is all the same to you, I'd like to know what you intend to do with me to-night. I'm an old man, and I'm sorter 'customed to going to bed rayther early, so, if you don't mind, and you'll tell me where I'm to sleep, I think I'll turn in."
Instead of replying directly to him, Madge turned to Handsome.
"What shall we do with him?" she asked. "You are responsible for his being here. I think I will turn him over to you."
"All right," said Handsome, rising. "I'll take him to my own cabin. He'll be safe enough there. I'll be back in a minute, Madge."
Nick followed him across the floor of the little valley to a hut that was at the opposite side of it, and close to the cliff—and Nick knew at once, from his recollection of the plan he had studied, that he was quite near to the entrance to the cavern.
The cabin consisted of only one room, in which two bunks had been roughly built, and, after lighting a candle, Handsome indicated one of these, and said:
"You can sleep there, Turner. Turn in when you like. To-morrow we will explore the caves together."
"Right you are," said Nick, yawning widely. "I shan't need any rocking this night. My old legs are tired out for sure."
Two minutes after the departure of Handsome, Nick blew out the candle, and for a time he stretchedhimself in the bunk, lest Handsome should return to see that all was right. But it was speedily evident to the detective that Handsome had no suspicion whatever of him, and had, therefore, left him to his own devices.
But Nick knew that it could not be very long before the outlaw would return to seek his own rest and repose, and that he must, therefore, determine upon what he was to do before he should return.
Ten minutes he lay there, and then he rose slowly and cautiously from the bunk and crept to the door which had been left open, and peered out.
The fires were still blazing merrily, and many of the men were gathered around them. Some of the men were playing cards, and the others were engaged in various ways. At all events, they one and all seemed to have forgotten his existence, and that was what he chiefly desired.
Nick knew in which cabin Patsy was a prisoner. He could see it from the doorway where he was standing, almost opposite him at the other side of the valley. The distance in feet from his own position was about the distance of a city block—two hundred feet.
The old silver watch, the size of a turnip, which Turner had carried forty years or more, was in his pocket, and by the light of the stars Nick managed to see the time—ten o'clock.
"There is no time like the present," he mused tohimself, while he hesitated in the doorway. "If I wait until all is quiet, I will stand all the more chance of being discovered; and, besides, it won't be long until Handsome returns here, and after he has come and crawled into his bunk it will be next to impossible for me to get out of here without rousing him—unless I should drug him, and that will not do at all. Handsome is altogether too fly for that. He would know that he had been drugged.
"Now, if it wasn't for these white whiskers, I could creep around the edge of the bottom of the cliff to the cabin where Patsy is, without being noticed; and I dare not take them off——"
He stopped there. There was absolutely no use in conjecturing upon the "ifs" of the question, and so, after another moment, during which he studied the lay of the land intently, he slipped noiselessly out at the door and around behind the cabin, and from there crept on his hands and knees to the bottom of the cliffs. And there he discovered what he had been unable to see in the imperfect light. The grass there was quite tall, where it had not been trampled by the feet of the motley crew that infested the place, and he found that by lying at full length and pulling himself slowly along on his stomach he would be able to conceal himself almost entirely from view.
Nick made that half circle of the small valley, crawling in that way, and entirely without being discovered; and in that manner he arrived directly in the rear of the cabin where Patsy was a prisoner.
But here a new difficulty confronted him. There was a guard in front of the door, and that guard, strangely enough, was Cremation Mike.
The cabin in which Patsy was a prisoner was built of roughly hewn logs, the crevices and chinks being stopped with mud and clay. The ground beneath it was hard—rocky, in fact; so there was no possibility of digging under the logs without tools to do it, and even then it would have taken too much time to accomplish it.
Nick turned his attention to Cremation Mike. He was seated upon a convenient stump, smoking a short pipe. His back was toward the door of the cabin, and he was about ten feet from it. The door itself had been fastened by passing a freshly cut sapling across its front, and slipping either end of it into rustic slots that had been hastily fashioned for the purpose.
It was plain that there was only one way to get Patsy outside of that cabin, and that was to overcome Cremation Mike; and, having determined upon this, Nick crept forward as silently as a shadow, and so rounded the corner of the cabin, and presently came up half standing, directly behind the unsuspecting outlaw.
Nick did not wish to kill the man, but he did want to knock him out so effectually that he could not interfere in what was to follow, and therefore he had picked up a piece of round, smooth stone, which he had wrapped in his handkerchief.
And now, with this improvised weapon, he struck Cremation Mike sharply on the back of his head, with the result that Mike pitched forward, and would have fallen to the ground had not Nick managed to catch him. Then he laid him down gently upon the ground, and turning swiftly, opened the door of the cabin.
"Quick, Patsy!" he called in a sharp whisper. "It is I. Nick. Come."
Patsy, who had not been bound, it seemed, leaped to the door with a low exclamation of surprise and pleasure.
"Bully, Nick," he whispered. "I thought it was all up with me that time. And do you know, it never once occurred to me that the old man might be you. The disguise is perfect."
"Come," said Nick. "There is no time for words now. Follow me, and do exactly as I do. I want to get back to my own sleeping place before my absence is discovered, if it is possible to do so. But, first, is there any sort of a chair or stool inside that cabin?"
"Yes. A stool."
"Bring it out, if you know where to put your hand upon it."
Patsy brought it in a twinkling, and, placing it against the stump, Nick propped the senseless formof Mike upon it, so that from the front it appeared as if he were seated there quite naturally.
"He will come around presently," said Patsy, "and miss me."
"Let him. That is what I want him to do," replied Nick. "Come on, now."
He dropped upon his knees again, and, with Patsy following, they crept around through the grass again along the edge of the cliff, and at last reached the cabin from which the detective had started.
But he did not stop here. He made at once for the entrance to the cavern, which was near at hand, and passed inside, with Patsy following closely behind him; and then with his electric flash light, he led the way along the corridor of the cave—for it was his object to find that hiding place to which Turner had directed him in case he found it necessary to hide.
"Keep to the right always in that cave, no matter which way you are going," Turner had told him with emphasis, and remembering that now, while he wondered if, after all, there were two corridors to the cavern, he followed the rule, and almost on a run—for the passage was quite smooth before them—he led the way through.
They came at last to the bowlder to which Turner had referred, and Nick removed the small stone from beneath it. And then he pushed upon it as Turnerhad directed, with the result that the rock swung open before them, leaving an aperture through which they could easily pass.
But Nick did not enter. Instead he thrust a candle and a box of matches into Patsy's grasp, and said to him:
"Remain here until I come for you, even if you get hungry. I don't know any more about what is ahead of you than you do. I only know that you will be safe there. We have no time to talk now. I will shut this rock behind you."
Then he turned and sped away.
Nick Carter made his way as rapidly back through the cavern as he had gone through it with Patsy; but when he arrived at the entrance he came to a stop, and then went ahead again very slowly.
He had no idea how long a time he had been gone, nor what might have happened during his absence. But when he peered out upon the valley, everything was apparently in the condition in which he had left it. If there had been any change at all, it was only that fewer of the men were gathered around the fires. Otherwise everything was the same.
And so, with all the swiftness he could muster, he crawled to the cabin which Handsome had given him to occupy, entered it cautiously, and, finding it empty, crawled into the bunk that had been allotted to him—tired, but rejoiced to think that he had succeeded so well where there had been such small chance of success.
And it so happened that he had barely laid himself down and composed himself to wait for developments, when a great cry went up, which was immediately followed by other shouts and loud curses—and Nick knew that the escape of Patsy had been discovered, and that he had returned just in time to avoid the consequences.
Almost immediately following upon the utterance of the shouts, the door of the cabin flew open, and Handsome leaped inside, his eyes ablaze, and his whole form quivering with rage—and he carried a flash light, which he threw at once into the detective's face; into the face of the man he supposed to be Bill Turner.
Nick could see that the instant the light fell upon him Handsome seemed greatly relieved; and then, before the outlaw could utter a word, Nick cried out in the voice of old Turner:
"What—what's all that row about, Handsome?" and he blinked his eyes as if he had just been awakened.
"It's lucky for you that you don't know what it's about!" was Handsome's rejoinder. "Get out of that, Turner, and come along with me."
"But, what's the matter?" demanded Nick, sliding out of the bunk. "What has happened?"
"That fellow Pat has escaped—that's what!" was the reply.
"Sho! You don't say so! Well, well, well! When did he do it?"
"I haven't found out yet. Come along. I thought at first that maybe you had had a hand in it—but I see you did not."
"What! Me?"
Every hobo that belonged to the gang had gathered in the centre of the place near where the mock trial had been held, and they were talking earnestly together. Cremation Mike, with one hand held at the back of his head, was the centre of the group—or rather of the throng.
But Handsome burst unceremoniously through the crowd and confronted Mike, Nick following at his heels.
Black Madge forced her way through it at the same time from the opposite side.
"Now, Mike," said Handsome savagely. "Tell me how this happened."
"I don't know. All that I know is, I got a crack on the head from behind. When I woke up, the bar had been ripped off the door and the bird had flown. That's all I know."
"How long ago did it happen?"
"How do I know that? Unless some one can tell how long I've been unconscious. But I'll bet my hat that it ain't ten minutes. I don't think it's three minutes. He can't be far away, and"—grinning—"he can't get away. He can't go through the pass, because the guards are there; I posted them myself; and the only way in which he could hope to get out is through the cave, and I don't believe he could find his way through there. I know that I wouldn't try it myself. I'd rather stay here and be hung."
Madge interrupted the conversation here.
"Do you think that he got out of the cabin without aid?" she asked of Mike. "Do you believe that it was he who struck you, Mike?"
"I do, Madge. I'm sure of it."
"Then, you weren't keeping good guard, that's all."
"Well, I never thought it was possible for him to get out of that cabin. It may be that I dozed. I didn't suppose I did, but——"
"But," said Madge icily, "the point is this: The boys shall not be disappointed in the hanging bee they were to hold in the morning. It is up to you, Mike, to find the prisoner. If you don't find him in time, you shall hang in his place—that's all. I mean it."
Cremation Mike's face turned to the color of chalk, for he realized that she did, indeed, mean what she said. For a moment he stood there trembling, and then he seized a lantern which one of the men was holding, and cried out:
"Come along, whoever will help me. I know that he can't have gone far. He ain't had time. I know it. Come along."
"Wait," said Handsome coolly; and he turned to Nick.
"Turner," he said, "I begin to think that it is fortunate that you came here when you did."
"I am sure of it," said Nick in reply.
"You know that cave from end to end, don't you?"
"I think I do."
"Then, you shall act as guide."
"All right. I'm ready."
But this short conversation had called the attention of Madge to the supposed old man, whom she had for the moment forgotten, and now she turned savagely upon him.
"I believe that you are at the bottom of this," she said, her eyes blazing.
Before Nick could make any reply, Handsome broke in.
"That is nonsense, Madge," he said. "I know it. As soon as there was an alarm—as soon as Mike yelled out that the prisoner had escaped, I legged it for the cabin, and I found Turner just waking up from his sleep. He had no hand in it. He couldn't."
"It's lucky for you," said Madge, still eying Nick sharply.
"Will you guide us through the cave, Turner?" demanded Handsome.
"Sure."
"Then, come on."
"Hold on a minute," said Nick. "Don't you think it would be a good idea to send some of the men to guard the other entrances? If the prisoner hasn't had time to get through the cave yet, and if he should happen to find one of the ways out on the other side,he'd run right into the arms of whoever was on the watch."
"Good!" said Handsome. "We know of two outside entrances. How many do you know about?"
"Four," replied Nick. "Four, not counting the hole under the Dog's Nose. That may be an entrance; but one man can guard that."
"Where are those entrances?"
Glibly Nick described how they might be found, using the exact language that had been used by the old man in his description of them; and after a short delay four men were sent away to each of the entrances, on a run, with instructions to remain on guard before them until they should be relieved.
"Now," said Nick, when they had gone, "we know that the prisoner can't escape. We know it's only a matter of time when he'll be caught—therefore, we needn't hurry. Don't you agree with me, Handsome? He can't get out of the cave at any of the entrances, without being captured or shot down, an', o' course, he can't come back this way without meetin' with the same fate. Ain't that right?"
"I guess it is," agreed Handsome.
"Ain't that right, Miss Madge?" asked Nick again, turning to her.
"It sounds entirely reasonable," she replied. "There has been only one mistake made from the start of this affair, and that is that Pat was not shot down whenhe first showed himself here. As it stands now, he has temporarily made his escape. I am satisfied, now, that he is a spy, and I commission each one of you to shoot him down without mercy, on sight. I shall go with you into the cave to search."
"Do you wish me to direct the search?" asked Nick, still standing quietly before her.
"Yes. What have you to suggest?"
"This: There be four entrances outside o' the one here in this little valley. I should divide the men into four parts. I kin direct each party so that it won't have no difficulty in followin' the cavern and searching it thoroughly to the entrance. I'll take one o' the parties. How many men are there here now?"
"Let me see," replied Madge. "Sixteen have gone away to guard the entrances, and four will have to remain here on guard. That takes away twenty. We still have eighty left."
"Good. That'll give us twenty in each party. Now, madam, it's for you to say who'll lead them. Tell me who the leaders will be, and I'll instruct 'em at once."
She picked out four of the men, and ordered them to step forward; and, one by one, Nick directed each of them how to proceed after he had passed the entrance of the cavern with the men who were to follow him; and he made the directions so explicit that there was not one who had any doubt about being able to follow them.
It was as Nick had suspected it would be; that Madge did not yet trust him far enough to give him the sole leadership of one of the parties, but she directed that Handsome should go with him—and at the last moment, when they were ready to start, and after the other three parties had entered the cavern, she decided to accompany Nick's party herself.
"I may as well go along," she said. "I would like to learn something about the interior of that cavern myself, and I don't know a better way to learn it than to go with you."
And so it was that presently the detective found himself in the cavern, leading twenty-two persons, for the extra two were Madge and Handsome.
And the course that Nick had selected for himself was the one that would take him past the hiding place where he had left Patsy; for it was no part of his plan that he should give the others even a chance of an accident of finding that hiding place.
It had been shortly after eleven o'clock when Nick returned to the cabin after assisting Patsy in his escape; it was now after midnight.
There were torches and lanterns in abundance scattered among the four parties that were searching; and, in the directions that Nick had given each party, he had taken good care that they should become thoroughly lost if possible. He had an object in this, as will be seen.
The way through the cave along the route which the detective had selected to follow was smooth and even, as we already know; but Nick made it as long and as rough as possible by taking the party off into some of the side galleries as they proceeded.
He was looking for a place where he might lose some of them, and at least where he might, before the expedition was finished, succeed in separating them.
What he chiefly desired was to finally get either Madge or Handsome alone with him.
It was two hours later before they finally passed the bowlder behind which was the entrance to the hiding place where Patsy was concealed; but not one of the party so much as glanced toward it; and Nick led the way on past it to the exit—and that exit was not the hole under the Dog's Nose, but a larger one at some distance from it.
There they found the four men who had been sent hither, and they reported that they had seen nothing; and cautioning them to remain on guard, Nick led his party back into the cave again.
And then, after a few moments, he pretended suddenly to find that fifth entrance—the hole under the Dog's Nose—and there four other men were waiting—and they had seen not a thing to suggest the proximity of the prisoner who had escaped.
"Now," said Nick, "I think we'd better s'arch them side galleries more thoroughly. If you'll return withme to the entrance from the valley, we'll start over again, and go into and through every one o' 'em. We'll divide our party into smaller groups o' three and four, and in that way we kin cover all of them at the same time. What do you say?"
"All right," said Madge, still looking upon him with suspicion. "But Handsome and I will remain with you, Turner."
"That is what I hoped you'd do," replied Nick; but he spoke with a meaning which she did not understand.
They followed the plan suggested by the detective. That is, they returned to the entrance from the valley, and there Nick divided his followers into six parties, thus arranging that four of the parties should contain four searchers each, one of them should contain three, and his own immediate party should consist of himself, with Handsome and Madge.
To the leaders of each of these subparties he gave the necessary directions, with the result that he sent them off as they arrived at their respective galleries, and after a little he found himself alone with the two chiefs of the outlaws.
"There ain't much for us to do now," he said. "There ain't much more searching as we kin do. There's only two galleries left for us to explore 'less we find some hiding place that's remained unknown until now."
"And that isn't likely, is it?" asked Madge. Her voice was still filled with suspicion against him.
"You know as much about that ere as I do," he replied.
But they searched each of the galleries without any result, and Nick finally directed the route so that at last they paused to rest directly in front of the movable rock behind which was the entrance to the place where Patsy was concealed.
And Nick seated himself so that his own back was against that rock, for he did not care to run the chance that Handsome might lean against it hard enough to move it—at least, not until he was in every way prepared for that part of the drama.
Madge was tired by this time, and she showed it. She leaned against the rocky wall and sighed deeply; and Handsome furnished the cue for the next scene—so perfectly that Nick could not have ordered it otherwise if he had tried.
"I'm dry," said Handsome, yawning. "This is dry work, Madge. Don't you think we had better give the thing up for a time and wait. Pat will be starved out after a little. He'll have to come out and get caught."