"Well, if that doesn't beat all!" marveled Royal.
"It certainly does," agreed Ellison.
"Yes, but that isn't finding the dog," growled Dunkan. "Boys, we've got to find that collie, and what's more, we've got to find the man he was chasing. The fellow probably took the dog with him. He must have wanted a pup mighty bad to take those chances to get one."
"Do—do they hang dog thieves down in this country?" questioned Stacy apprehensively.
"We aren't saying what we'll do," observed Dunkan.
"You've got to find the dog first," nodded Stacy.
"You're right, young man. Get your guns, fellows. We'll follow this trail right smart."
"I do not think it will be of any use," Tad informed them.
"Why won't it? Don't you think we know how to run a trail?"
"I haven't the least doubt of it," answered Tad with a smile.
"Then what's the matter with you?" demanded Dunkan almost savagely.
"Oh, there's nothing the matter with me. I am trying to help you, that's all."
"Shake, pard. I didn't mean to be edgewise with you. I'm mad plumb through over that dog business. You're the smartest youngster I've ever come up with and I'll take off my hat to you when I get it on again."
"Here, I'll lend you mine," offered Stacy, reaching his own sombrero toward the prospector.
"I shake my own bonnet, not the other fellow's," grinned Jim. The others laughed at the fat boy's drollery.
"Why do you say there is no need to follow the trail, Tad?" spoke up Professor Zepplin at this juncture.
"For the good reason that there is no trail to follow," was Tad's brief reply.
The party did not understand what he meant by that, and Dunkan asked him to explain.
"I have run the trail out," announced Butler. "Some twenty rods from here the trail practically ends."
"How can that be?" interjected Sam.
"It is all hard rocks there for some distance and not a tree, hardly a shrub. The fellow went straight up the rocks. I know this because he trampled down a berry vine when he climbed up the rocks. That is the end of the trail. He may have gone in any direction from that point. I followed out several leads, but they came to nothing. I am sure that I should be able to pick up the trail somewhere were I to spend enough time at it. I will try it after breakfast if you want me to. Breakfast is getting cold. We'd better get back."
"Shake, pard," exclaimed Dunkan, extending an impulsive hand. "You're the real thing. Nothing make-believe about you. The way you've puzzled out this trail business beats me. I'm pretty fair at it myself, but I'm not even a pussy-willow shadow to you."
"Did you hear about the three-legged rat and our black cat?" bubbled Stacy.
"No, I didn't. It isn't rats and cats, but dogs, in which we're interested at the present minute. We'll go back for some chuck. In the meantime we'll chew over it," said Dunkan.
"Over the chuck?" asked Stacy.
"I reckon," grinned the prospector. "And the dog, too."
"I'm no Chinaman," objected the fat boy.
"Very strange, very strange," declared the Professor, glaring from one to another of them.
"A friend of mine lost a valuable Pomeranian in a somewhat similar manner a year ago and—"
"I ate a whole one of those once," chuckled Chunky.
"You ate a whole Pomeranian?" questioned Tad.
"Yes, yes," bubbled the fat boy. "And I had a stomach-ache for a week afterwards."
"Professor, Stacy says he ate a whole Pomeranian once," jeered Tad.
"What, what's that?" bristled the Professor.
"I did," insisted Chunky.
"What, you ate a Pomeranian dog?" cried the horrified Walter Perkins.
"A dog?" shouted Stacy.
"Yes, a Pomeranian's a dog, you boob," replied Tad, shaking with laughter.
"A dog? Oh, I thought you were talking about a cheese."
Prospectors and Pony Rider Boys joined in a roar at the expense of the fat boy. Professor Zepplin's eyes twinkled, but his face was stern. He enjoyed the jokes of his boys fully as much as did they, and this whether the joke was at his expense or at the expense of another.
"But what do you make of this disappearance of the collie, Mr. Dunkan?" asked the Professor when they were well started with the breakfast.
"I don't make anything out of it."
"Is it possible that the dog continued to follow the man?"
"Yes, it might be, but he'd caught the fellow before he got to the ledge that Butler told us about. That dog is a streak of greased electricity when he gets headed for anything."
"That's the way Chunky goes to his meals," nodded Rector.
"I notice I'm usually about ten paces behind you," retorted the fat boy.
"You men go on with your work after breakfast. I am going to fall to the trail, as the Rocky Mountain guides express it," announced Tad.
Breakfast having been finished, the work of clearing away was left to the guide. Tad asked Ned to accompany him. Ned was hardy and almost as expert on trail work as was Butler himself, though with Tad such work was more second nature than was the case with the other boy.
"Don't worry if we don't get back in time for luncheon," said Tad. "We have some biscuit in our pockets, and if we don't get back before night, why we will just camp out."
"You must return before night," ordered the Professor. "I want you here when night comes."
"We will do our best. We shall probably return before noon, but if we do not, remember that we are all right."
"If you find that dog—well, never mind," said Dunkan. "I'll promise to do something handsome for both of you."
The boys with their ropes slung over their shoulders, their revolvers in the holsters, strode out of camp waving good-bye to their fellows. They were soon lost sight of.
"Fine boys," averred Ellison.
"Great," agreed Royal.
"The best ever," finished Dunkan.
"What about me?" demanded Chunky.
"Well, I reckon that any fellow who can eat a Pomeranian and get off with nothing more serious than a stomach-ache is copper-lined and brass-riveted," answered Dunkan.
The men soon went about their prospecting work, Professor Zepplin accompanying Jim Dunkan, Walter going out with the other two men, while Chunky remained at camp with Chops. The fat boy decided that he could have more fun teasing the guide and sleeping between times than he could in climbing over the rocks on foot. He could ride all day, but a walk of a mile made him weary.
Tad and Ned, in the meantime, had started out on the trail of the dog and the man, which they had again picked up at the very edge of the camp. Reaching the rocks where the trail had been lost the boys sat down to take a survey of the landscape.
"I think," said Butler, after a few moments of study, "that a person climbing up this way would naturally head for that cut yonder. How far is that from here?"
"A half mile, I should say."
"Yes, that is my idea. The course to the cut would seem to be the easiest. Naturally the fellow would have taken the easiest route, because he was in a hurry to get away."
"But what became of the dog?"
"Can't you guess, Ned?"
"I might guess a good many things. But they might be a long way from the truth."
"Does this tell you anything?" asked Butler, pointing to a discolored spot on the rock near where they were seated.
"Blood!" gasped Ned.
Tad nodded.
"He hurt the dog here. It is my opinion that he hid behind this boulder and when the dog leaped up to the slippery rocks, the man struck him with a club. It was very foxy."
"Gracious, but you have eyes and some other sense that I don't seem to know much about," declared Rector admiringly.
"It is just horse sense, that's all, Ned. A fellow doesn't have to be of the steel-trap variety. All he has to do to find out things is to think a little and use his powers of observation."
"But—but, where is the dog?" begged Ned, still more perplexed now that Tad had pointed out a real clew.
"Oh, the fellow carried him off so as to get him out of sight. If the dog had been left here dead, that, he knew, would anger the men so that they would get right out on the trail. If the dog were carried away they might think the animal had got lost or fallen off a cliff, or something of the sort."
"More horse sense," answered Rector with a grin.
"Yes, that's all it is. And now if you will come with me I'll wager that I show you the dog," added Tad, scanning the landscape critically.
"All right. I shan't be surprised at anything you show me or tell me after this. I am stricken dumb with amazement and wonder. Oh, I am a thick one."
"It's well you admit it, Ned," answered Butler laughingly.
"Do you admit your failings?" snapped Rector.
"Always, when I am accused by my friends."
"Then I have nothing more to say."
Tad had scrambled to his feet. Ned followed his lead, and together they began climbing the steep side of the mountain, bearing off to the right towards a gap in the ridge, rather than climbing straight towards the top. All the time Butler was keeping a sharp lookout for trail marks, but he found nothing that would aid him in his quest. He was positive that the collie had been killed by the prowler whom he had scared away from the camp on the previous night.
"Who do you think it was, Tad?" questioned the other boy after a long, hard climb.
"If I were to guess I should say it was the same old trouble-maker, Stillman, or Batts, his assistant, or companion-in-crime, whichever you may wish to call it."
"Well, I must say those fellows are bold."
"They probably have a good deal at stake," answered Tad.
"What do you mean by that?"
"That there is crooked business of some kind going on up on this ridge. I don't suppose it is any of our affair, except possibly as it interferes with us and our rights."
"We've a large-sized bone to pick with the man anyway."
"We have," agreed Tad. "Here is a ledge that we can walk on. Keep a sharp eye down in the gulch below and look out that you don't fall. Shall I pass the rope around you?"
"No. What do you think I am, a baby? I don't get dizzy so easily as all that."
"You're not like Mrs. Snedeker—you know Mrs. Snedeker in Chillicothe?"
"Yes."
"She refused to go around the world with her husband because she said it made her dizzy and sick to travel in a circle."
Ned grunted.
"If Stacy had told that story I shouldn't have been surprised, but I am amazed at you, Tad."
"All right, we'll let it go at that. What do you see down there?"
"Nothing but air and the bottom."
"Then I have sharper eyes than you," chuckled Tad. "Back up a little. There. Now look about six feet to the left of that rock with the twin peaks. See anything?"
"Not a thing."
"Where are you looking?"
Rector pointed a finger, Tad glancing over it.
"You are looking six feet to the right of the twin peaks. I said you should look about six feet to the left of the peaks."
"Oh!"
"Now what do you see?"
"Good gracious you don't mean—"
Tad nodded triumphantly.
"It's the collie!" whispered Ned in an awed voice.
"I think so. We can't be sure until we climb down and see for sure whether it is or not."
"Well, if this doesn't beat anything I ever heard of," muttered Ned.
Tad had already started back along the ledge which opened into the gulch just before they reached the gap mentioned in the preceding chapter. A short distance to the rear the rocks sloped down into the gulch with a gradual fall. It was down this rugged place that Tad began to climb, followed closely by Ned Rector.
Tad Was Followed Closely by Ned Rector.Tad Was Followed Closely by Ned Rector.
Tad Was Followed Closely by Ned Rector.Tad Was Followed Closely by Ned Rector.
The boys were too busy with their climb to do much talking on the way down, and had they not been thoroughly seasoned they would have been obliged to stop for breath more than once, even if the way was down hill.
"Whew! That was some climb, wasn't it?" exclaimed Rector when finally they reached the bottom.
Tad ran forward. Some ten rods up the gulch he halted, pointing to a crushed heap on the ground.
"There's the poor collie, Ned."
"The fiends! They threw him over, didn't they?"
Tad nodded, thoughtfully.
The two boys found that the dog bore a severe wound on its head, where Tad believed it had been struck with a heavy club or the butt of a gun. There was no way of determining this to a certainty. But Tad pointed out something to his companion in support of his theory which again proved that the Pony Rider Boy possessed a keen mind for reasoning out things.
"You will remember that the dog was running south when he was struck on the rock where we found the blood?"
Ned agreed with a nod.
"And that I said the man struck the dog from behind the rock on the left-hand side of the trail?"
"Yes."
"If you will examine the collie's head you will see that the wound extends from the top down the left side of the head, indicating that the person who dispatched him was also on that side. Doesn't that prove it?"
Rector gasped.
"Say, Tad, I'll run in a minute if you don't quit. You give me the creeps up and down my back. You're spooky. I'm glad Chunky isn't here. He'd have run long ago. What shall we do, leave the dog here?"
"Why, yes, I don't think it will be worth while to carry him back to camp," decided Tad.
"Then we'll give the faithful old fellow a decent burial and heap some rocks over him so the animals don't get at him. If Mr. Dunkan wants him we can tell him where to find the collie."
The boys, choosing a hollow in the ground for the burial, heaped dirt, stones and rubbish over the dead dog. Having completed this, Tad started for the long climb back.
The climb was somewhat different from the downward journey. It was grilling work going up that mountainside, and there were black and blue marks on the bodies of both boys when they reached the top. Ned's hands were skinned in spots and his temper had suffered proportionately.
"Never again!" he exclaimed with a resentful look at Tad. "I might have known better than to follow you."
"You ought to feel complimented that I asked you to accompany me."
"Ha, ha! as Chunky would say. What an excellent opinion we have of ourselves, eh?"
"You know better than that, Ned Rector. You know I'm not the least little bit conceited. I never could see any reason why a human being should feel that he was any better or any smarter than any other average person. Take my word for it, the conceited fellow gets his bumps sooner or later."
"Like Chunky, for instance?" suggested Ned.
"No, I don't mean that kind. Chunky doesn't mean half of what he says. He likes to make conversation and make fun, but he's a good fellow and smarter than most people give him credit for being."
"I know that. I'd eat my hat for the fat little rascal, but I've got to have my fun with him. Now what?"
"Maybe some more climbing. Use your eyes again. We are following a trail now."
So far as either lad could observe there was no real trail to follow. It was rock, rock everywhere they went. All the time they were getting farther and farther away from the camp.
After an hour of toil over the rocky trail they came out into a brush-covered plateau. Tad now got to work in earnest. It was but a few moments later when he announced that he had found a trail, but whether this was the particular trail for which they were in search he did not know. It was a trail and he proposed to follow it out until either it led them to something definite or came to a blind ending.
The trail proved to be more fruitful than the boys had hoped. Half to three-quarters of a mile farther on they were startled by the report of a gun.
"Someone firing a shotgun," said Tad.
"Yes, it does sound that way," answered Ned.
"We will head for it. Funny thing to be using up here. These people ordinarily use rifles. Where did you think the sound came from?"
"Over there." Ned pointed off to the right.
"I shouldn't be surprised if it were in the gulch we have just left."
"Farther to the west then."
The boys started to hunt out the man with the gun. They moved along with extreme caution now, not wishing to receive a charge of buckshot, nor were they courting discovery, for other good and sufficient reasons.
"There it goes again," exclaimed Ned.
All at once they caught sight of a man half way down the side of the gulch. A gun was standing against a tree near by, while the man was scraping the ground with a stick.
"What is he doing?" whispered Ned as the boys, crouching down, eyed him inquiringly.
"I don't know."
After a little the man, whom they now recognized as their old enemy, Jay Stillman, took up his gun, reloaded it, and then began walking about the place as if selecting a particular spot for further operations.
To the amazement of the boys Stillman thrust the muzzle of the gun down to within two feet of the ground, then fired the charge into the earth.
A second barrel was fired in a similar manner.
"For goodness' sake, what is he trying to do?" whispered Ned.
"I don't know, unless he has gone crazy," answered Tad. "Shooting charges into the ground is new business to me. I'll warrant he is up to some monkeyshine, though."
"Maybe he thinks he can hit a heathen on the other side of the world," suggested Ned.
"He's going to shoot again," Tad announced.
Two loud bangs gave evidence that Stillman had done it again. He continued these same tactics, covering quite an area of ground, his operations lasting until long after midday. All this time the two Pony Rider Boys were creeping along at a safe distance behind the mountaineer, watching his every movement. Finally, leaving his gun, he began working among the rocks. What he was doing the lads were unable to make out, and they were more puzzled over these peculiar actions than they ever had been in their lives.
Late in the afternoon Stillman shouldered his double-barrelled gun and started off toward the southwest. The boys promptly secreted themselves, because it looked as though the man were going to pass near them. He did so, though all unconscious of their presence.
"Are you going down there to see what he has been doing?" whispered Ned.
"No, I'm going to follow him. We know where that place is. It can't get away, but he can."
This being good reasoning Rector had nothing more to say. Stillman had swung off at a mountaineer's stride, a pace so rapid that he soon outdistanced the two lads, making it necessary for them to run to catch up with him. This running nearly proved their undoing. Suddenly they came in sight of the man. He was standing on a rise of ground, apparently listening, but looking off to the left. The boys dropped instantly, lying flat on the ground until they saw Stillman shoulder his gun and start on again.
"He must have heard us," whispered Tad. "We must be cautious. We know him to be a bad man and we know he is up to some crooked business. I wish I knew just what it is. Probably he's going to his shack."
"I see it!" exclaimed Ned.
"Yes, there's the roof of a building and a chimney. I reckon we're getting near our friend's roosting place. This is fine. You see what a little patience does for one. Now go carefully."
Making a wide detour the boys came up to one side of the building that they had discovered. Stillman was nowhere in sight. It was reasonable to suppose that he had entered the building.
The structure was built up of small logs, the cracks being chinked with what looked to be red mud, and a broad chimney extended some six feet above the low roof, built high to give the fire below more draft. All about the place was a dense growth of bushes, with occasional paths intersecting the plot.
"I wish we could get a look inside that place," muttered Tad.
"Not going to try it, are you?"
"No, not now. Not while he is in there. I wish he would go away."
"No such luck," complained Rector.
Almost ere the words were out of his mouth Jay Stillman stepped out from the cabin. This time he carried a rifle under his arm. He stood at the doorway of the cabin for some moments as if thinking. After a time he started down a well-beaten path that led him within a rod of where the two boys were in hiding. They scarcely breathed as he strode past them. Tad was up soon after on the mountaineer's trail. The boys did not have far to go. Stillman's horse was tethered in a glade a short distance from there. The man quickly saddled and bridled his mount; then, leaping into the saddle, he galloped away to the eastward.
Tad started on a run, to keep the man in sight as long as possible, and further to make sure that Stillman really was going away.
"He's gone. Now for his cabin!" cried Tad.
"I do hope there's no one there. Perhaps we may be able to discover something."
Turning toward the log cabin, still on a dog-trot, the boys headed towards more trouble and a most exciting experience in the cabin of the mountaineer.
As they neared the cabin they proceeded with more caution. They did not know if there were others in the building, though Tad did not believe such to be the case. At the rear of the place bushes grew close to the side of the building, so the boys chose this way of approaching the cabin.
"This is a pretty serious thing, intruding upon a man's home," whispered Tad. "But I think we are justified in doing so."
They had reached the building. Tad placed an ear against the side, but not a sound could he catch from within.
"I don't believe there is anyone at home," remarked the lad quietly. "I'm going to take a peep."
Creeping along one side of the cabin he reached a window and attempted to peer in. A sheet of brown wrapping paper had been secured over the window so as to shut off all view from the outside. But Tad, not yet at the end of his resources, decided upon a bold move. First making sure that no one was about, the lad walked boldly around to the front, nodding to his companion to follow.
Tad rapped on the door. There was no reply. He knocked harder. Under his heavy raps the door swung open a little way, Butler at the same time stepping back. He thought someone had opened the door, but quickly saw that he had done that himself.
The boy pushed the door wide open, gazed in through the opening, then stepped in. It was not an uncommon thing in the mountains for a traveler to enter another's cabin. Both boys knew that. Had they not done the same thing in the Rockies, and had not mountaineers helped themselves to the camp of the Pony Rider Boys on more than one occasion? Nothing ever had been thought of it, but somehow Tad Butler felt some misgivings about his present undertaking.
He stepped in, glancing about him inquiringly. There was little to distinguish Stillman's home from other mountain cabins they had visited. The shotgun that they had seen the man use was hanging on the wall. The dishes from breakfast were still on the bare deal table, as was a lamp with a smoked chimney. Chunks of rock were heaped in a corner.
The fireplace was a huge affair. It was built of rough rocks, laid up almost like a staircase, extending half way across the end of the cabin. In one corner was a heap of logs sawed to length, together with a great pile of dry kindling wood. Stillman was well prepared for wet or winter weather, though there were not enough blankets in sight to protect a man in very cold weather. A bed of boughs served for a sleeping place.
Tad stooped over and pried up a loose board in the floor. He found there, in a small hole that had been excavated, another heap of rocks similar to those found in the cabin itself.
"It is my opinion that these are samples of ore," reflected the boy. "Do you know, I believe it is some shrewd game along this line that Stillman is playing."
The boys examined the place for the better part of an hour, finally sitting down to discuss what they had discovered and trying to get at the real secret of their discoveries.
All at once they realized that the day was drawing to a close. The sun had gone down some time since. Twilight fell suddenly. They also realized that they were hungry and that it was high time they were starting back to camp, which they would not now be able to reach until long after dark. Tad reasoned that they were a good three miles or more from the camp. The others surely would be worrying about them.
"They'll have a fine time finding us if they start to look for us," jeered Ned.
"Yes, I reckon they will," answered Butler with a broad grin. "They never would look for us in this place. Let's be off. First thing we know, we won't know—" Tad paused sharply, bending his head in a listening attitude.
All at once he sprang to the door, and opening it a crack peered out. He closed the door softly and bounded back, a worried look on his face.
"What is it?" whispered Ned.
"Someone is coming."
"Hurry! Run for it, then!" urged Ned.
"Too late. He is almost here."
Ned groaned.
"The fireplace," cried Tad in a low, tense voice. "Climb up! There's plenty of room. Get up as far as you can. This is a fine fix we have got into. Be quiet and have your nerve with you. Go on!"
Tad gave his companion a push towards the broad fireplace. Rector made a leap for it, and peered up into the dark chimney.
"Go on, go on!" urged Tad, giving Rector another push.
Ned disappeared up the chimney, and Tad squirmed in under the arch and was up, following his companion with the agility of a squirrel. Butler had barely drawn his feet up when he heard the door of the cabin open and close with a slam. The intruder put his gun down with a bump plainly heard by both boys. A moment later a faint light was seen below them. The newcomer had lighted the lamp.
The boys had been up the chimney but a few moments when they heard the man go to the door where, after listening briefly, he uttered a whistle. An answering whistle, sounding far away to the boys up there, came almost instantly. Then a few minutes later a second man came tramping into the cabin.
"You're late, Joe," announced a voice that the lads recognized as belonging to Jay Stillman.
"Yes, I couldn't get away from Beach."
"That's Joe Batts," muttered Tad. "A precious pair of rascals, as we shall find out if we are discovered."
"Is he going to bring the other man out soon?"
"Yes. He and Beach will be along in the morning."
"Think Beach is on the level?"
"No, of course he isn't. But he doesn't dare play foxy with us. Besides, it's money in his pocket to play square. He doesn't know where the plant is."
"What's the matter with his having a plant of his own?"
Batts laughed.
"I reckon he doesn't know enough about the game to try that," he answered with a harsh laugh.
"He'd better not," growled Stillman.
"Got everything fixed?"
"Yes. I planted a new patch of yellow daisies this afternoon," answered Jay, whereat a series of chuckles drifted up the chimney, causing Tad to wonder what the men meant by "yellow daisies." There seemed no explanation of the term.
"I'm going to sneeze," whispered Rector.
"Don't you dare," commanded Tad in alarm.
"I've breathed in enough soot to clog a smoke stack."
"Hold your nose."
"Seen anything of that Pony Rider outfit?" asked Stillman.
"They've connected with Dunkan's crowd," replied Joe Batts.
"They have? I tell you we made a mistake in letting them get in so close. They've got to be driven out. We have too much at stake. First, here is the claim we salted down today, then there is the other thing. Between the two we are in to make a big fortune. I'm to meet Bates the day after tomorrow and get our pay for the work we are doing up at the other place."
"About that Pony crowd, and the other bunch. We've got to get rid of them and right smart. They are too nosey," declared Batts.
"What are we going to do, shoot them down and get strung up for it? Not for mine. We'll put them out of business in some other way. I would have done it last night, but—"
"But what?" questioned Batts.
"I opened the way. I got that critter all right."
"The dog?"
"Yes."
"They'll raise a row about that," warned Batts.
"No they won't. They'll think he fell over. Oh, I looked after that all right. There's only one thing to be done, get our money for the claim we salted, and the wad for the other work we are doing, and clear out."
"What about Hans?"
"I ain't bothering about him. Let him fight his own battles. We have played this game for several months now and have a tidy sum put away where it will be safe. First thing we know the government will get wise, and then it will be all up with us for the next twenty years if not worse."
"Got anything for Hans tonight?" questioned Batts.
"Yes. I'm going to take it over to him later. He doesn't have to send it out until midnight. Tomorrow night Smoky Griffin won't be in until one o'clock with the stuff. It's coming in another way, but the critters won't get wise to it, even if they have doped out the other system, which there's evidence that they are on track of. Those Pony Boys have got to be run out of these mountains before we do anything else, and they've got to go right away."
"That's easy," declared Batts confidently.
Stillman shoved back his chair, and, gathering a bundle of dry wood, placed it in the fireplace, first having stuffed an old newspaper in. Tad groaned inwardly. He knew what was coming. Stillman touched a match to the heap in the fireplace. A faint crackling sound was borne to the ears of the two Pony Rider Boys, and a wave of heat rolled up to them.
"Oh, help! This settles it!" moaned Ned Rector.
Then came a cloud of white, suffocating smoke. Ned let go a terrific sneeze. The sneeze jolted him loose, his feet slipped from the ledge, and he went sliding down on top of his companion, uttering a yell as he felt Tad giving way beneath him.
Jay Stillman, after starting the fire, had suspended a kettle from a crane, having first half filled the kettle with a stew that he proposed to warm over for their evening meal. Fortunately for the two lads who were sliding down the chimney the stew had not yet become hot enough to do any damage to a boy's skin. On the other hand, the smoke in a dense, suffocating cloud was pouring up the chimney.
As the yell in the chimney reached the ears of the two men sitting by the table they gazed at each other in amazement. Quick-witted as they were, the true significance did not occur to them. Pieces of stone, soot, the accumulation of years, were dropping into the fire. Then came a solid body.
Tad Butler hit the fire first. He smashed into it, carrying kettle and crane down with him. Fire, burning brands and sparks belched out into the room as though an explosion had occurred in the big fireplace.
Tad with quick instinct was struggling to get out of the way of his falling companion, when Ned Rector landed on him full force. Tad humped himself, and Ned went sprawling out on the hearth.
Butler did not lose his presence of mind for a second. In fact Tad had formed his plans, so far as it was possible to form them, before he reached the fire.
Uttering a yell, calculated to strike terror to one who heard it, Tad rolled out on the hearth, his clothes ablaze and his hair almost singed off. The mountaineers still sat in their chairs, lower jaws hanging, eyes bulging.
Without waiting for the men to recover from their surprise, Tad gave a couple of quick rolls. The rolls served to put out some of the fire in his clothes as well as to bring him nearer to the object towards which he was rolling.
The boy's feet came up with great force, and the deal table standing between the two mountaineers rose up into the air, dishes, lamp and all.
Ned uttered a howl, a series of howls. Blood-curdling howls they were, too. He had caught Tad's purpose and was aiding it with all his might.
The lamp, dishes and all went over with a crash. The two men in trying to get out of the way of the flying dishes and lamp both toppled over backward, landing on their backs on the floor. Of course the lamp exploded with a dull "pouff"!
"The door!" Tad commanded sharply. "Run low!"
Ned scrambled to all fours and made for the door dog-fashion. By this time Stillman and Batts had sprung to their feet and drawn their revolvers.
"Shoot! Shoot!" yelled Jay.
"My gun's stuck," howled Batts.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
Three shots were fired in quick succession from the pistol of Jay Stillman. Two of them bored holes in the door casing just above Ned Rector's head. The third shot went out through the open door.
Tad was still in the room, but crawling toward the door with all speed. The light from the burning oil now flared up, revealing his presence. Stillman let go two quick shots at the boy. One bullet grazed Tad's head. He remembered afterward that it felt hot, like the heat in the fireplace when he fell into the stew.
Batts at this juncture jerked his weapon from its holster, but the pistol slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.
"Oh, you fool!" roared Stillman.
Tad plunged out through the open door, landing on his face in the dirt.
"Jump to one side!" he commanded sharply.
Ned, taking the hint, gave a leap to the right, and just in time, for he was standing directly in front of the open door, through which two revolver bullets were fired almost at the instant of his leap. Tad had crawled to the left.
"Run!" he called.
Ned did run until Butler called a halt a few rods from the cabin. Tad grasped the arm of his companion the instant he reached him, then led the boy back toward the cabin.
"Where, where you going?" gasped Tad.
"To see what is going on back there. Are you hurt?"
"I'm near dead," groaned Rector. "I haven't any skin left except what is hanging in shreds. Oh, what an awful experience. I'll bet you are a sight, too."
The boys were creeping nearer the cabin. They found the two men inside stamping out the fire on which they had thrown blankets from the bunks.
Stillman dashed out of doors as soon as he had extinguished the fire. In his hand was his rifle. In the meantime Batts had procured another lamp and shortly afterwards had lighted and placed it on the table.
Stillman remained outside, crouching by the doorway listening, with rifle ready to take a shot at the slightest sound. At that moment Tad Butler and Ned Rector were lying less than ten feet from the crouching figure of the mountaineer. They dared hardly breathe.
"What do you make of it, Jay?" asked the other man, thrusting his head out close to the watching mountaineer.
"Funny business."
"Where are they?"
"I wish I knew. I'd kill them on sight."
"You—you don't think it was one of the outfit down in the gulch, do you?" asked Batts.
"I reckon not. Still, it might have been. We'll get supper and I'll go down there and find out," decided Stillman with emphasis. "If I see any signs of a fellow who has been in a fire I'll plug him sure as my name's Stillman," raged the mountaineer.
"Look out, Joe!" warned Batts. "They may still be touchy about the pup and have a weather eye open."
"They won't catch me, now that I'm on my guard."
Stillman entered the cabin, slamming the door behind him.
"Somebody ought to keep watch," suggested Batts.
"You go out. I'll fix up the wreck. No; take your own gun. I want mine where I can get hold of it. I overshot, too. Did you get wise to the foxiness of those fellows? Run out on all fours so we'd shoot over them. Foxy, foxy! That wasn't no tenderfoot trick."
Batts picked up his rifle and started for the door.
"Skip!" whispered Tad. "Run for it, but don't make a sound unless you want to stop a bullet."
Ned Rector needed no urging. By the time Batts had reached the threshold of the door the boys were well down the path. Even then the keen-eared mountaineer heard them, and sent a bullet in their direction, but the bullet sailed far above the heads of the boys. Tad changed his course somewhat, as the fellow had their range a little too closely to suit young Butler.
"I guess that's all," decided Ned.
"Don't be too sure of it. They may be following us, so we must be cautious."
"What do you mean?" demanded Ned.
"I mean that I am going to follow those fellows. There surely is something big on foot. I think I know what it is, and if I am right we shall have done the biggest piece of work of our lives."
Ned Rector groaned.
An hour passed before the boys discovered any sign of life about the cabin. The hoot of an owl somewhere off to their right brought Stillman to the door of the cabin. Two quick hoots from Stillman elicited an answering one from the brush. Then a man stepped into the clearing.
"Smoky Griffin," breathed Tad. "I was certain that he was in this deal, whatever it may be. There! See! He is giving Stillman something. Those fellows surely are bold. How do they know but we are still hanging around here?"
Tad crept away and was soon pressing his ear close to the window over which the brown paper was stretched. While he could hear the voices of the three men in there, he was unable to make out a word of what they were saying. Half an hour later Smoky left the cabin. He was shortly followed by Joe Batts and Stillman, who plainly were trailing Smoky.
Something was doing in a very few minutes. Stillman and Batts had emerged from the cabin so cautiously that none but sharp eyes could have detected their exit. The men separated and cautiously worked their way around the cabin, all the time enlarging their circle of observation, until they had penetrated far into the shrubbery. Apparently having satisfied themselves that there were no prowlers about, they joined and started off to the northward, plainly following a well-established trail.
"They are off. Come on," whispered Tad with a trace of excitement in his voice.
The mountaineers strode rapidly along, apparently without thought that they might be followed. Nevertheless Tad used every caution, though he was obliged to travel rapidly to keep up with the men.
"Look there!" whispered Tad, crouching low.
The mountaineers had suddenly halted. In the near distance Butler discovered, faintly outlined, a cabin. Just then one of the men placed his hands to his lips and uttered a long-drawn cry that sounded like the call of a night bird. A light flashed up. It seemed to be high up near the tops of the trees. The light was more like an electric flash than that from an ordinary lamp.
"Hark! Hear that!" exclaimed Ned.
"A gasoline motor. This is strange," muttered Butler.
Stillman and Batts strode to the cabin and after a few moments were admitted. Tad and Ned crept up closer. They dared not go all the way to the mountain cabin until after they had assured themselves that there were no traps for them to fall into. It had seemed a little too easy for Tad thus far.
"Ah!" he exclaimed suddenly, after having stretched out his hand to feel his way ahead.
"What is it?" demanded Rector.
"A wire, and it's charged. Not very heavy, but it stung me. Ned, I'll wager that this wire extends all the way around this cabin. You see it is only about a foot from the ground so that a person not knowing it was here would trip over it and probably give the alarm to the occupants of the cabin. This begins to look interesting."
"Oh, Tad, look!"
"Sh-h-h-h! Not so loud, Ned. You surely will get us into trouble."
"But look up there near the tree tops. What is it? More signals?"
"Yes, but not what you think," whispered Tad.
A faint crackling sound was borne to their ears, little crinkly darts of electricity shooting out from a point up there in the air.
"I—I don't understand it," whispered Ned.
"Wireless, Ned," answered Tad. "I looked to find something of the sort. Someone is sending."
At intervals the rhythmic squeal of the wireless would set in, then suddenly cease. Finally the message was sent, so Tad interpreted the sounds and flashes. The sending lasted all of ten minutes, then the power was shut off and silence settled over the cabin.
"Are you going to try to get into the cabin?" questioned Ned a little apprehensively.
"Not tonight. I have other plans in view. I am waiting for—there they come." Stillman and Batts crept from the cabin and stood silently for several minutes. Tad heard Stillman say, "All right," whereupon the two men set off toward their own cabin, with Tad Butler and Ned Rector following at a safe distance to the rear.
At last they saw the men enter their own cabin, after which Tad decided that it was time to go home to his own camp. Part of the return journey was taken at a trot, a regular Indian lope, which was reduced to a cautious feeling of their way as they neared the Pony Rider Boys' camp. A bright campfire was burning there and, as they reached the edge of the camp, Tad saw that the entire outfit was up, though it was then two o'clock in the morning. There was a shout when Tad and Ned stepped into the circle of light.
The two boys were not pleasant-looking objects. Their faces were blackened and their hair badly singed, while their clothing was half burned from their bodies.
Jim Dunkan and his companions saw that the boys had been through a tough experience, but they waited in patience until Tad should be ready to explain what had occurred. Walter and Chunky were shooting questions at Tad and Ned at a more rapid rate than any one person could reply to.
"First put a guard out, then give us something to eat. We are liable to be spied upon and it is very important that nothing of what I am about to say be overheard by any outsider. Who will take the watch?"
Tom Royal volunteered to do so, though it was evident that he much preferred to remain in camp and listen to what Tad had to tell them.
"I—I got the biscuit thief!" cried Chunky. "Nassir. Yassir. There he sits. Chops is the biscuit destroyer. I caught him red handed."
"By the Way, Mr. Dunkan, Stillman is the man who killed your dog," said Tad. "We found the poor collie and gave him a decent burial."
Dunkan's face hardened and one hand dropped to the holster at his side.
"I think we shall even things up with him, so please don't take the law into your own hands," urged Tad. "I think you will be willing to let the law take its course after you have heard what I have to say. Is there a government officer anywhere within reach?"
"Jim Coville, the forest ranger, is the only man I know of," answered Sam Ellison.
"Where may he be reached?"
"It's a twenty-mile ride to his station."
"I must find him at once. Will you go with me and show me the way? After I get something to eat I will tell you what has occurred."
Dunkan said he would.
While Tad and Ned were eating their belated supper the others sat about—all but Chunky, who decided that he too needed food—and waited with some impatience until Tad was ready to tell them his story.
This he did very shortly afterwards, sketching it briefly up to the time of Smoky Griffin's appearance on the scene.
"You beat anything I ever heard of," growled Sam Ellison.
"What do you make of it, sir?" asked Tad.
"Make of it? Why, Tad, you've turned up one of the biggest sensations this mountain has ever known. Those fellows that you saw shooting into the ground today—or the one you saw doing it—was salting the ground with gold so that when the man they were going to swindle had the soil analyzed it would be found to contain 'pay dirt' in profitable quantities. I wonder who the victim was to be?"
"I heard them mention a man named Beach," said Butler.
Dunkan laughed loudly.
"So! He is in it, too, eh? Beach is a crooked real estate man from down Asheville way. A wireless outfit on Smoky Bald, eh? Well, if that doesn't beat all. Kid, what do you think that wireless outfit way up here means?"
"I have been thinking about it backward and forward," answered Tad seriously. "I have thought that perhaps the sending that we heard was to some persons belonging to the gang. It may be that the folks at the other end are making a deal to send someone in here to be swindled. I may be on the wrong trail entirely, but that's the way I reason the mystery out."
"Boy, I reckon you've doped this thing about right," nodded Dunkan.
"Is it possible?" bristled the Professor. "Then we must do something."
"Yes. We must get an officer. He will know what to do, sir," replied Butler. "I first thought we might bag the outfit ourselves, for they surely are here for no lawful purpose. After thinking the thing over I don't believe it would do at all."
"Jim Coville is the man we want. He is a forest ranger, and has authority over things besides trees. We will go get him when you are ready, Butler."
"I am ready now, Mr. Dunkan. We shall be back some time tomorrow, Professor. I think the boys had better stay in camp. Please, also, be careful how you boys speak of this matter, as there may be eavesdroppers, and no suspicion of the truth must reach the ears of the enemy."
It was a few moments later when Tad Butler and Jim Dunkan swung to their saddles and started off for their long ride to the station of the forest ranger.