"We'll take a long walk to-morrow," said Adrian, breaking into a merry whistle. "But something tells me it is nearly supper-time. I'm as hungry as a bear. Hi, Jack!" he called to the dog, and all three started for home, Roger in a sort of day-dream over what he had discovered.
Roger said nothing to the folks at the house of what he had observed. He had a plan, partly worked out in his mind, and he wanted to see whether or not he could accomplish anything before he told his uncle or cousin. He resolved to wait until after the next day and observe what happened when he and Adrian went to guide Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist over the hills, for Roger shrewdly suspected that the men required no piloting to find what they sought. However, he thought it was not necessary to mention that to any one.
At the time appointed he and Adrian presented themselves at the Pine Tree Inn and asked for the two engineers. Mr. Ranquist came down.
"Ah," he said, looking at his watch and smiling, "you are prompt, I see. Mr. Dudley and I will be with you in a few minutes."
In a little while the two men appeared, both dressed in rough clothes suitable for a tramp through the woods.
"Well, boys," began Mr. Ranquist, pleasantly, "my friend and I are very anxious to take a little trip about the valley, and we would like particularly to visit the placewhere the Cardiff giant was found. Can you show that spot to us?"
"Of course I can," said Adrian. "It's right over there," and he pointed to a broad stretch of meadows across the valley flats about three miles off.
"Over there, eh?" remarked Mr. Ranquist, "I had an idea it was back up this way," and he pointed in the opposite direction. "However, as long as it is not where I thought it was, we will defer our trip to see the resting-place of the big stone man until some other time. Mr. Dudley and I would like to get the lay of the land on this side of the hills that slope down into this part of the country," and he waved his hands toward the place where Roger had seen the two engineers at their mysterious operations. "Is there a good path up along there, and could you show us the way? We don't mind roughing it, but we dislike getting lost," finished Mr. Ranquist.
"I guess we can show you all right," said Adrian. "Do you want to start now?"
"I think so," Mr. Ranquist answered, so all four began their walk. Instead of going down the road toward the sulphur spring, which was the way the two engineers had taken first, Adrian suggested a shorter path. This, he said, would be to go up the Lafayette hill about a mile and then bear off to the right, where he knew of a fairly good trail. So it was decided to take this route. During the climb up the hill Roger recalled the thrilling ride down it a few months before. The boys kept slightly in advance of the men, who walked more slowly than theiryounger companions, for the lads, in the excess of their muscular energy, wandered from side to side in the road, going over about twice as much ground as was really necessary. But they never noticed such a little thing as that.
Roger glanced back to see if the men were within earshot, and when he found they were not, he spoke to Adrian in a low voice.
"Say, Adrian, is there any way of getting near the spring on your father's place from the path we are to take?" he asked.
"Yes, but what do you want to do that for?"
"Why, if these men are looking for a location for a railroad it might not be a bad plan to show 'em some of your father's land. They might want a bit of it, and if they gave him a good price, as I've heard railroads do, he could pay off that mortgage. No harm in trying."
"Say! That's a good idea," exclaimed Adrian. "I'll do it."
"Don't say anything," cautioned Roger. "Just kind of edge off in the right direction, and when we get to a certain place, I'll say something. You leave it to me."
"But what's up? What do you mean?" asked Adrian, with sudden interest.
"Oh, nothing in particular," answered Roger. "Look at that fox!" he shouted, quickly, as he picked up a stone and threw it at the animal.
"Where? Where is it?" yelled Adrian, all excitement.
"He's gone now," said Roger, "but he was right there by that old stump."
"We'll have to come up here with a trap and a gun if there's foxes," decided Adrian. "Their skins bring good money."
The boys kept on up the hill and soon came to the place where they were to leave the main road and strike into the woods. They waited a few minutes for their older companions to catch up, and then took up the lead again. All four kept closely together now, so there was little chance for the boys to converse without being overheard. Accordingly they confined their talk to comment on what they saw along the path. Both listened intently to what the two men were saying, but Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist were apparently exchanging opinions on past occurrences.
They talked of something which had taken place in New York. Not once did they refer to a railroad or anything like it. They seemed content to tramp along, paying no attention to the beauties of nature on every side of them. The trees, that bore more than half their summer suits of green, the soft moss under foot, the flitting of the birds from branch to branch—all these had no attractions for them. But to Roger such sights were a constant enjoyment, and he took in deep breaths of the balmy air, laden, as it was, with health.
They had gone about a mile along the path on the side of the hill, during which time the men had seemed content to follow the boys' lead. At length Adrian nudged Roger and pointed to a path that branched off from the main one.
"That will take you to our spring," he said, in a low tone.
"Go ahead down it then," replied Roger. "Maybe you'll see something happen soon."
Wondering what his cousin could mean, Adrian advanced, and Roger glancing back noticed with satisfaction that the two men had followed them without question.
For ten minutes the boys led the way with never a word of protest from Mr. Dudley or Mr. Ranquist, who did not seem to notice they were going in a different direction from that which they desired. Suddenly a big rabbit darted across the path, almost at Mr. Dudley's feet. He started, looked at the animal, as if wondering how it came there, and then he glanced up, seeming to realize that he was at a spot he had not intended to reach.
"Why! Why! Boys!" he exclaimed, turning to the younger engineer.
"What is it?" broke in Mr. Ranquist.
"What are we coming this way for?" asked Mr. Dudley. "I thought we were going straight along the side of the hill. Instead, we are going down."
At this Mr. Ranquist looked alarmed as he glanced at the two boys.
"Well," said Roger, coming forward a few steps, "you see this path goes to a spring down in a little glade. We thought you might like to see it. If you're going to build a railroad the spring would furnish water for the locomotives. There's a good place for a depot down in the little glade, too."
"Why, why—," stammered Mr. Dudley.
"It looks as if there was coal there, too,—coal or—or something," he finished, looking narrowly at the men, "and coal and water might be good things for a railroad, it seems to me."
For a brief instant there came a dangerous look into Mr. Ranquist's eyes. His face grew pale, and he seemed to control himself with a great effort. Mr. Dudley also appeared very much surprised. Mr. Ranquist forced himself to burst into a laugh that had no mirth in it.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" he shouted. "Not bad, eh, Mr. Dudley? Water for the engine. Well! Well! Well!"
He laughed again.
"Coal upon this hill! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Well, my boy," he went on, clapping Roger on the back good-naturedly, "it's very nice of you to think of these things for our railroad, but, bless you, we wouldn't want to stop in a place like this for coal or water. If the line goes through here," with a significant look at Mr. Dudley, "it will make only flying stops. I suppose this land, where the coal and water is, belongs to some friend of yours, eh?" and he looked at the boys narrowly.
"It's my father's," broke in Adrian. "But I never knew there was coal on it. There's a spring, and a good one, but nobody ever thought of looking for coal. I wish there was some."
"Why?" from Mr. Dudley, suddenly.
"Because," answered Adrian, "my father might get a good enough price for it, so's he could sell some and pay off the mortgage on the rest."
"Oh, then the farm is mortgaged?"
"Yes." And then the boy seemed to realize that he was talking too freely to strangers, and he stopped.
"Well," went on Mr. Dudley, "I'm sorry to say as far as I can see there's not the least chance of any coal ever being found in this section of the country. It is not the kind of land where coal is located."
Adrian looked the disappointment he felt. He had really hoped there might be coal on his father's farm.
"Do you want to go down by the spring?" persisted Roger, starting off in that direction.
"Um, ah—yes. I think we might as well as not," said Mr. Ranquist, in spite of the obvious efforts Mr. Dudley made to have him say something different.
All four started off, but at that instant there came a sudden sound to the left. It was a crashing of the under-brush and bushes, as if some heavy, lumbering body was being forced through them. Then a black shape burst into view, and the next second a big, ungainly animal, tall and covered with dark fur, thrust itself into the open, while the wide-stretched mouth showed the lolling red tongue and glistening white fangs of an immense black bear.
For a moment neither men nor boys knew which way to turn. The beast, however, was not at all undecided in his movements. With a savage growl he came lurching clumsily forward, and the sight of his fierce anger filled the members of the little party with terror. Adrian was the first to appreciate the danger.
"Every one to a tree!" he shouted, "and take thesmallest and thinest that will hold you, or he'll climb up after!"
He made for a slender sapling and scrambled quickly up it, while the others lost no time in following his example. Mr. Dudley, in spite of his years, sprinted like a college chap getting down on a kick in the football field when he wants to nail the other man in his tracks. But though the engineer was quick, the brute was almost as nimble.
Just as Mr. Dudley got safely above the ground, in a tree that fortunately was directly in his path and not far away, the bear made a dangerous lunge for him with its front paws. The sharp claws caught the cloth of the man's trousers and held on for an instant. The bear pulled savagely, but, with a rip, the garments gave way and the claws slipped from the rent, leaving Mr. Dudley free.
The men and boys were now secure in trees above the ground, while below them, going from one sapling to another, the bear growled and foamed in his rage at seeing his enemies escape him. After making a tour of the place, and trying in vain to climb the tree where Mr. Dudley was perched, the beast squatted down on his haunches, in the centre of the group, and sat thus, awaiting developments.
"Well," remarked Mr. Ranquist, after a pause, "this is a pretty kettle of fish, I must admit."
"I would say it was four kettles," said Mr. Dudley, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
For a few minutes after the exciting scrabble for trees, there was a deep silence among the four. They were all interested in the movements of the bear. Having squatted on his haunches for a little while, the beast dropped to a walking position, and strolled about, sniffing deeply at the foot of each sapling which held a human occupant. He uttered loud "woofs" of disgust, and then, standing under the tree where Mr. Dudley was, the animal acted as if he was going to climb up.
The brute's sharp claws tore showers of bark and wood from the slender trunk, and his efforts caused the sapling to shake considerable, making Mr. Dudley's perch somewhat insecure.
"Hold on there! Hold on!" exclaimed the engineer in a protesting tone. Then, as he saw the uselessness of ordering a bear he added more gently, "Oh, say, Bruin. Ho! ho! Easy now, that's a good fellow!" It seemed as though Mr. Dudley was talking to a restive horse.
The man's voice apparently angered the bear, which redoubled its efforts to get up the tree, though the slender trunk proved an effective barrier.
"Oh, I say now!" cried Mr. Dudley, looking helplessly at his companions, "call him off, some of you. This won't do at all. He'll shake me down and eat me. Call him off, can't you?"
"I'm afraid he doesn't care to be called," said Mr. Ranquist, with just the suspicion of a smile on his face. "He seems an obstinate sort of brute."
"But what's to be done, what's to be done?" inquired Mr. Dudley, testily. "We can't stay here all day, Ranquist, like ripe apples, waiting to be shaken down by this beast. Something must be done; I insist on it. I'll—I'll—What did you boys want to lead us into a bear's den for?" he asked, turning toward Roger and Adrian.
"We didn't know there were bears about," answered Adrian, a little crestfallen at the mishap. "There hasn't been any bears near Cardiff before in ten years."
"Stuff and nonsense! Stuff and nonsense!" interrupted Mr. Dudley shortly. "I believe you boys did this for a joke. If you did—"
"Oh, pshaw!" came from Mr. Ranquist, "of course it isn't the boys' fault. How could they help it?"
"Well, perhaps they couldn't," admitted Mr. Dudley, "but it's very unpleasant, to say the least."
Then the bear began another attack on the tree where Mr. Dudley was, with such savage energy that it needed all the engineer's strength to prevent himself from being shaken down.
"Oh! Oh!" cried Mr. Dudley, desperately. "Somethingwill have to be done at once. Help! Help!" he yelled.
"Haven't either of you men a revolver?" called Roger.
"By Jove! I never thought of it!" said Mr. Ranquist, suddenly. "Of course I have. But I'm not a very good shot, and, if I was, I'm afraid the small bullets in my gun wouldn't cause his bearship much annoyance. It's only a .22 calibre," he added.
Carefully balancing himself, the young engineer drew the weapon from his pocket. His movement seemed to interest bruin, who left his position under Mr. Dudley's tree, and ambled over to the sapling where Mr. Ranquist was perched, much to the relief of the older prospector.
"I'm going to shoot," said Mr. Ranquist. "I don't know what will happen after it, so look out, every one."
Taking as good aim as he could, Mr. Ranquist fired at the brute. There was no evidence that the bullet hit, so he blazed away again. This was another miss, but the third attempt was more effective, for, with an angry roar, the animal dropped on all fours, and began clawing his snout with his left paw. A few spots of blood showed on the ground.
"You hit him! You hit him!" exclaimed Mr. Dudley, and, in his delight, he tried to caper about on his slender perch, with the result that he nearly tumbled off.
"Oh, yes, I hit him," admitted Mr. Ranquist, showing just a little pride in the achievement. "I winged him, but I'll have to do better than that, if I want to persuade him to go away. These bullets are only flea-bites to him."
The little leaden pellet did not seem to cause the bear much suffering, but the pain angered him, and, with savage growls, he made fierce efforts to get at the man he apparently knew had fired the shot. In rapid succession Mr. Ranquist pulled the trigger four times more, but none of these balls touched a vital spot, though two of them struck the beast in the head. He was now wild with rage.
Mr. Ranquist began to reload his revolver.
"I've only one more round—seven shots," he called.
"Hold on then!" shouted Adrian. "You can't kill him with those. If you'll hold his attention long enough, by firing at him, I'll shin down, and go for help. We'll need somebody with a gun for this bear."
"Do you think you can do it?" asked Mr. Ranquist, anxiously. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt."
"Sure I can do it," replied Adrian, with all a boy's ability in his power to do something he has never tried before.
"I rather dislike the idea, for I'm afraid he'll get away from me, even if I keep firing at him, and take after you," objected Mr. Ranquist.
"I'll chance it," was Adrian's answer. "Go ahead with loading up, and, when you're ready I'll scramble down. His back is toward me, when he's under your tree."
"All right," called Mr. Ranquist, slipping in the last cartridge.
He took as careful aim as he could, and fired a shot. This time he had the luck to hit the beast on its tender snout, which so enraged and pained the bear that he didnot notice Adrian's quick movement. In order to fully cover the retreat Mr. Ranquist kept blazing away, and hit bruin twice more, though the wounds were slight. However, they served to keep the bear's attention on the man with the revolver, and Adrian slipped to the ground, edging away cautiously through the trees. When at a safe distance to prevent the noise being heard, he broke into a run.
With his last bullet gone, Mr. Ranquist settled back in the crotch of his tree. He, Mr. Dudley, and Roger made themselves as comfortable as possible, to wait until help arrived.
Meanwhile the bear went sniffing from tree to tree, getting more fierce in his rage every minute. Only the small diameter of the saplings prevented him from climbing up them. For perhaps half an hour the three were thus held prisoners, though it seemed much longer to them, all cramped as they were. Suddenly they noticed that the brute was acting strangely. He sniffed the air, and growled yet more savagely, and the hair on his back bristled up.
"I'll bet some one is coming," said Mr. Ranquist. "I only hope they have a gun. I wouldn't care to meet his bearship on the ground without one, in his present frame of mind."
The next instant there was a sharp crack. The bear gave a convulsive jump, and staggered back, clawing the air with his forepaws, and growling. Then he fell over backward in a heap.
"Good!" shouted Mr. Dudley.
A little cloud of smoke floated out from behind a big chestnut tree. Next there came another rifle shot. The body of the beast shivered in a spasm, and then was very still.
"Him very much dead now. Yo' all kin come down," called a guttural voice, and Indian Johnny Green came into view, followed by Adrian.
Mr. Dudley, Mr. Ranquist and Roger lost no time in descending. They were somewhat stiff from standing in a cramped position in the tree so long, but, otherwise, and aside from the scare, no worse for the adventure.
"Well, it didn't take you long to bring help," observed Mr. Dudley, grateful to the boy, though a little while before he had been inclined to blame him.
"I happened to meet Johnny Green when I'd gone about a mile," said Adrian. "It's lucky he had his gun."
"It's rather a lucky affair all around," said Mr. Ranquist.
The Indian paid no more attention to the party, but proceeded to examine his prize, for the bear rightfully belonged to him. The animal was fat and of good size, and Johnny Green was well pleased.
"I guess we'll call this exploring expedition off for the rest of the day," suggested Mr. Ranquist. "I'm sure we are much obliged to you boys for coming along, and especially to you, Adrian, for being brave enough to go for help when you did."
"That was nothing," answered the boy, a little abashed at the praise.
"We shall expect you to go with us some other day this week," went on the engineer. "Now, if you'll lead the way we will go back to the hotel."
The two boys talked of nothing but the bear on the road home, but the men maintained a silence. The Indian had remained behind to look after his game. The party soon reached the inn, and, while the men went to their room Roger and Adrian hurried home to tell the news.
"Say, Roger," asked Adrian, "what made you so anxious to lead 'em on to our land by the spring?"
"Because," answered Roger, as if the matter was of no importance, "I thought they might like to get a drink. I know I did, and that's very good water you see."
"You're right about that," agreed Adrian, and by this time the two boys were at the house, where, in the excitement of telling his father and mother about the bear, Adrian forgot all else.
As soon as Roger could slip off without attracting notice from the folks, he made his way up the village street. Pausing before a pretty vine-covered cottage, he looked back to see that Adrian was not in sight, and then entered the gate.
"Is Professor Bailey in?" he asked, when Mrs. Bailey opened the door.
"He is," she answered.
"Tell him, please, that Adrian Kimball's cousin, Roger, would like to see him."
"Come right in," invited Mrs. Bailey. "You'll find him in the front room."
And there, surrounded by heaps of books, Roger found the professor, Guy Bailey, principal of the Cardiff school. The boy knew him from having occasionally gone to the institution with Adrian.
"Well, Roger," began the professor, "I'm glad to see you. Come in and sit down. Can I do anything for you?"
"I think so," answered the boy. "I've come for a little information." Then he plunged at once into the object of his visit.
"Professor," he asked, "do you think anybody would dig for gold in the hills around Cardiff?"
"Bless my soul, no! What do you mean? This is not a gold country, like California or the Klondike. What put that idea into your head?"
"I'll tell you a little later. Do you s'pose they would dig for coal?"
"Hardly that, either. There isn't the kind of land black diamonds grow in around here, that is, as far as I know."
"Or iron?"
"Scarcely iron," answered Professor Bailey, with a puzzled look at the boy. "But why do you ask me these questions? Are you thinking of turning miner instead of farmer?" with a smile.
"Perhaps," said Roger, and his serious air convinced the professor that the boy had some motive in his inquiries."You see I can't tell you all about it just now, nor why I want to know this, Professor, but I will some day. I want, most of all, to find out what, if anything, of value could be in the Cardiff hills, that would make men, or a company of capitalists, want to get possession of certain land. It might be, I suppose, coal, or iron, or gold, or something else. The question is, what is it?"
"You are asking me to go ahead pretty much in the dark," objected Professor Bailey.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid those are all the clues I can give you now," said Roger.
"Well, I'll do my best to answer your puzzle," went on the teacher. "From what I've read and know of the geological formation about here, I cannot think of any mineral or other deposit that would naturally be expected in this section. But of course it might be that, unknown to any one, except a certain person, there would be a valuable mine of something beneath the surface. Some mineral or quartz, but hardly coal, nor iron, nor gold."
"Perhaps it might be oil," suggested Roger.
"I'm afraid not," was the reply, "though, as I said, almost anything is possible, but in this instance, not very probable. If you were to show me a certain spot, I might be able to say, with more certainty than I can now, whether or not a particular mineral would be apt to be present."
"I can't take you to the place," said Roger, who was determined to guard his secret well, "because I want to keep this quiet as long as I can. But, Professor, if Ibrought you a sample of rocks, or minerals, or—or—something—could you tell me then?"
"Possibly I could."
"Then I'll see if I can't get some samples for you. But, please don't tell any one I was in to see you about this. Not that there's anything wrong," quickly added Roger, "but," and he advanced closer, "this may mean a good deal to some people, and I don't want to raise hopes and have them disappointed."
"Very well," answered the Professor, a little puzzled about it all, but knowing, from Roger's frank and honest face that there could be nothing but what was right. "Very well. I'll keep quiet, you may depend on it. And, when you bring me something more definite to work on, I'll help you all I can," and, with a hearty handshake, Professor Bailey showed Roger to the door.
"Now," said the boy to himself, as he walked slowly toward his uncle's house, "now to find out what they were digging for. I must get some of that stuff they brought up on the end of the drill. And I'll have to work quickly, for I think Mr. Ranquist suspects that I know."
For several days after the adventure with the bear Roger had no opportunity of going to the glade where the spring bubbled up, in order to find, if possible, what object the two engineers had in drilling there. Adrian was obliged to busy himself with various duties about the farm and garden, in order to get ready for the advanced spring planting, and Roger felt that he ought to help his cousin. But, all this time, Roger was busy thinking how he might accomplish his object, and get some of that mysterious substance which Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist examined so eagerly.
He thought of a number of plans, but rejected them all as impracticable. Most of them would have necessitated the bringing in of some one to help him, and this he did not want to do. Even when busiest at his tasks with Adrian, his mind was continually on this one subject, and, after a few days, it seemed it would be impossible for him, with his own unaided efforts, to dig down into the earth and find what was beneath the surface. But Roger was not a boy who gave a thing up because it was difficult.
One night, after a somewhat hard day in the garden, during which the boys had set out a lot of cabbage plants,and hoed the early beans, they were sitting in the parlor, Adrian showing Roger some books. One was a sea story, and there was a picture of a sailor heaving the log, in the old-fashioned way. Roger glanced at the reading matter, which told how, on board ship, the lead was sounded, and how the speed of the ship, as well as the depth of the water through which she was sailing, was ascertained.
The tale went on to relate how sometimes, the sailors used a piece of lead, with a hollow scooped in the lower end, into which space they would place some tallow. Then they would throw the weighted line overboard, and when the lead struck bottom, some of the mud and shells, of which the ocean bed is composed, would adhere to the grease in the hollow, scooped-out place. When the sinker was hauled to the surface and examined, experienced seamen could tell what sort of an anchorage they might find.
Roger started when he read this. He glanced over it again, carefully, and his heart beat suddenly, at the idea which came to him. His cheeks burned red with the happy thought, and he was almost afraid that Adrian would see his excitement, and question him. He made an excuse to go to his room, and busied himself there some time before he blew out his light and went to bed.
He dreamed, that night, of climbing down into a deep, dark mine, which sparkled and glittered with the gold and diamonds lining the steep sides.
The next day Roger made a hasty breakfast. To his relief Adrian did not ask him to help with the farm work, nor did the country lad suggest, as he often did, a trampthrough the woods; and Roger was very glad, for he had a plan to put in operation.
So, as soon as Adrian had left the house, having to go on an errand to a neighbor's, Roger stepped out of the back door, and made his way slowly to the path that led up through the vineyard, and, so on, to the spring glade. His pocket bulged with a number of objects, and, though he tried not to show it, he was considerably excited. It did not take him long to reach the spot where he had hidden himself from sight the day he watched Mr. Ranquist and Mr. Dudley drill down into the earth. He was almost afraid something might have happened to the place, but a careful look, showed him nothing had been disturbed.
There was the stone, behind which he first took his position, and the log, in the protecting shadow of which he had worked his way to a spot whence he might hear better. There was the second stone, and, after a little searching about he was able to discover the stick that the men had driven into the hole in the ground. He remembered pulling this up, after they had gone, and his disappointment at not finding anything there. Now he was resolved to be more careful in his method.
He looked warily about, to see that he was unobserved, and then he slowly took up the small stake, so as not to disturb the dirt around the edges of the opening. In this he was successful, and, after a few seconds he was able to lift out the stick, and was rewarded by seeing a small circular shaft, about two inches in diameter, extendingdown into the unfathomable blackness. Now Roger was soon to know whether his plan would succeed.
From his pocket he drew a long, stout fishline, at one end of which was fastened a lead weight, slightly smaller around than the hole, and having a saucer-shaped depression in one end. He made sure that the sinker was tight on the string. From a small bottle he took a little rosin and beeswax, which he had decided to use instead of the tallow that served the sailors. He could get the wax more easily, and he thought that by stiffening it with rosin, it would answer just as well. Now he was all ready to put his scheme into execution.
Lying down flat on his face, he carefully lowered the weight into the hole, keeping a strong hold of the string, so it would not pay out too fast. How anxiously did he watch the slender cord slipping down and down into the depths, the leaden messenger pulling it with a gentle force. Farther and farther it went into the black hole. What would it come to rest on? Would it fulfil its mission, and get to the bottom of the opening? Or would the line be cut by sharp rocks? Once, when it had gone a quarter of the length of the string, the lead caught on some projection. How Roger's heart beat, fearing it would go no farther. He cautiously pulled the weight up a little and let it fall gently. This served to pass it beyond the stone that probably jutted out and stopped the progress momentarily. Then it kept on going down. The boy was straining every nerve in his eagerness to see what was down there, at the bottom of that little hole.
At length, after a few minutes, during which time the line had slid through his fingers, it suddenly slackened. Was this the end of the tiny shaft, or only another catch and temporary stopping on the downward journey? The boy pressed himself closer to the ground. He raised the string and from slackness it became taut with the heft of lead. Then Roger let it fall again, and it seemed to strike solid earth, or something. The cord no longer payed out. Once, twice, three times, he tried this, raising the weight and letting it fall suddenly, so that the wax and rosin in the saucer-shaped end might catch whatever there was at the bottom of the hole, and retain it.
Then Roger began to raise the lead to the surface. He worked slowly, and more cautiously than he had in lowering it, as, if the string caught on a projection now, it would be almost impossible to pull it up without tearing off the weight, and that would mean the failure of the whole plan. It was necessary to be careful, also, in order that whatever was imbedded in the wax might not be shaken off. Hand over hand he drew the cord up, and, with a fiercely beating heart, he saw the sinker come into view. He reached for it with trembling hands. Then, in the glow of the sunlight which streamed down on him, he turned the lead so that he might behold what the wax contained.
If he expected to see glittering specks of yellow gold, he was sorely disappointed. Nor was there anything he could think represented wealth, not even pieces of some mineral which would account for the great interest Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist showed in their discovery.
With eyes that were a trifle dim from a sense that he had failed, Roger gazed at the waxed end of the weight. Imbedded in the sticky surface the boy saw some white crystals, which glinted and sparkled in the sun. Only some white crystals, that might have been chipped off a light-colored rock. To Roger they meant nothing. Almost idly he brushed them into the palm of his hand and rose to his feet. This, then, was the end of his hopes. The hole in the earth meant nothing, or else had been drilled for some object he could not discover. His golden dream of hidden wealth beneath his uncle's farm, by which the mortgage could be paid, was over now.
He turned away, and was about to throw the white crystals aside, when a sound behind caused him to start. He saw, emerging from the woods, Mr. Ranquist. The engineer appeared much disturbed at the sight of the boy. He stood still a moment, and then came forward rapidly. In his hand he carried a valise, which, as he dropped it on the ground, gave forth a metallic, clanking sound. Mr. Ranquist came close to Roger, who scarcely knew what to do.
"Well," began the man, and his voice was so strange that the boy felt vaguely alarmed, "well—" and he stopped.
"How do you do, Mr. Ranquist?" said the lad, as politely as he knew how.
"Humph! What right—I mean, what are you doing here? Spying on me? If you are, I warn you, boy, you'll be sorry for it. I have been suspicious of you, since theother day when you offered to lead us here. Now," and the engineer spoke sternly, "what do you mean?"
"Why, Mr. Ranquist—I—er—I—"
"No nonsense, now!"
For a moment Roger was somewhat frightened. Then his natural courage came back to him, and he felt a just resentment at the tone and manner of the man.
"Mr. Ranquist," he said. "I have as much right, and more, than you have, on this property. I—"
"What have you in your hand?" interrupted the engineer, looking at the fist which Roger unconsciously had closed over the white crystals. "And what are you doing with that string and weight," as he caught sight of the fishline and sinker. "Answer me!"
Mr. Ranquist darted suddenly at Roger, exclaiming:
"You have been trying to discover the secret of the hole we drilled! Well I'll spoil that game for you, my young friend!"
With a violent spring the engineer was almost upon the boy, but Roger was too quick for him. He leaped to one side, his fist tightly clenched over the crystals, which now seemed of considerable value to him, when he saw what importance Mr. Ranquist attached to the matter. With a cry of astonishment and anger at the threatened attack, but showing no sign of fear, Roger bounded out of the glade and ran through the woods, and down the hill, with Mr. Ranquist crashing through the brush after him. The chase was on.
After the first rush and surprise Roger collected histhoughts, and determined that Mr. Ranquist should not catch him. Or if the man outran him, he resolved he would not give up what he had without a fierce struggle. The excitement of the desperate race urged him on, and he felt he could run a mile or more. He knew he was in a better condition for sprinting than he had been in many months. So when he heard the engineer coming after him, he was almost pleased at the idea of the running contest. He believed he could win.
So he kept on, now stumbling over a low stump or a projecting root, now tripping on a fallen log, or sinking into a soft spot, but never slacking pace. The sounds made by his pursuer came more faintly to him. Presently they died away altogether, and the boy felt he could safely stop. He listened intently, but there came not a noise from the woods behind him. Mr. Ranquist had given up.
"Well," thought Roger, defiantly, "he didn't make me give him these crystals, and he didn't catch me. Now I wonder what I had better do?"
He thought over the situation for a few minutes, while he rested from the chase, and then he decided on a plan.
"I'll bet Mr. Ranquist and Mr. Dudley will do something very soon now," he said to himself. "He thinks I have discovered his secret, and so I have, though I don't know exactly what it is. But as long as he thinks I have found him out, he'll be likely to get possession of Uncle Bert's land. And Uncle Bert will sell it to him because he needs the money so much, and he'll never know there's something valuable hidden under the surface until it istoo late. I must hurry to Professor Bailey and see what he says. He ought to be able to tell what these crystals are."
With a heart that beat very hopefully Roger went down the path, and by a roundabout way to the professor's house. He did not want Mr. Kimball to see him. The boy knocked on the door, which was answered by Mrs. Bailey.
"Sorry," she said, in response to Roger's question, "but Professor Bailey is not home. He went away this morning, to be gone several weeks. Can I do anything for you?"
"No," replied Roger, and his heart sank. It would be too late, unless he could soon find out what the white crystals were, for his uncle was not likely to delay in the sale of the land on merely a boy's suspicion. What was he to do? Pondering on this problem, he left the front gate of the professor's house just as a wagon rattled up.
Roger was uncertain for a few minutes what to do. He heard the wagon rumbling past him, but gave no notice to the driver until the latter called out:
"Hello, young man! Want a ride?"
Then the boy saw that the man was his uncle's neighbor, Enberry Took. Up to that minute Roger had not the remotest idea of taking a ride, but for some reason he could not explain, he resolved to get into the wagon. He wanted time to think of some new plan. So he nodded in answer to Mr. Took's invitation.
"Whoa, Kate!" called Enberry to his mare, and pulled up opposite Professor Bailey's gate. Roger climbed to the seat, having first wrapped his precious crystals in a piece of paper before placing them in an inside pocket.
"G'lang!" shouted Mr. Took to Kate in a loud voice. "She's a little deef," the driver explained, indicating his mare. "Gittin' wuss, too. Hev t' git her a ear trumpet soon, ef it keeps on. Look kinder queer, wouldn't it, a mare 'ith a ear trumpet?"
"I think it would," replied Roger, smiling at the idea.
"G'lang!" shouted Mr. Took again, and this time the mare started off at a slow pace.
The two rode for a few minutes in silence.
"Nice day," ventured Enberry at length.
"Fine," assented Roger.
"Goin' fer?" went on Mr. Took, flicking a fly from the mare's back.
"Why, yes—er—that is—I don't know. I mean I can't say."
"Wa'al, we'll git at it arter a while," laughed Enberry. "Which is it?"
"Where are you going?" asked Roger, a sudden thought coming to him.
"Syracuse. Why?"
"That's where I'm going then."
"Humph! Made up yer mind rather suddint," commented Enberry, with a grin. "But ye're welcome, all th' same. I won't be comin' back 'til rather late though, 'long about nine o'clock," he added.
"That will suit me good enough," said Roger. "I'll tell you what it is," growing confidential, and knowing he could trust Mr. Took. "I want to go to Syracuse to find a chemist. I have something, and I want to find out what it is. I was going to ask Professor Bailey, but he has gone away, and I'm in a hurry. I don't s'pose you know of a man out to the city who could tell all about minerals and such things, do you?"
"Ye say ye've got suthin' 'n' don't know what it is?" asked Mr. Took, with rather a puzzled look on his face.
Roger nodded.
"Then I know th' very place fer ye," said Enberry,suddenly. "Perfessor Bootsky 's th' man fer ye. He's a fortune teller. That's what ye want. He'll reveal th' past, present, 'n' future. I went t' him onct. Told me I'd hev bad luck inside of a month, 'n' I'll be gol-swizzled ef one a' my cows didn't up 'n' die on me. He's th' chap fer ye. Tell ye anythin' 'bout nothin' 'n' nothin' 'bout everythin', jest's ye like. I'll take ye t' him. G'lang, Kate!" and fired with sudden energy and enthusiasm, Mr. Took sent the mare along at a flying pace.
"No! No!" exclaimed Roger, trying not to laugh.
"No?" with a puzzled air, from Enberry.
"I have something I want analyzed, to find out what sort of stuff it is," said Roger.
"Hain't nobody been tryin' t' pizen ye, hev they?" asked Enberry, with a startled look. "I read 'bout a case like thet in th' papers onct. Feller most died from drinkin' well water. Had a green scum on it. Took it t' a perfessor, 'n' what d' he s'pose he said?"
"What?"
"Paris Green! G'lang, Kate!"
"Oh, this is nothing like that," said Roger. "At least I do not believe what I have is poison."
"And you want jest a ordinary chemist 'n' not a fortune teller, eh?"
"I do."
"Wa'al," said Mr. Took, at length, "ye come t' th' right place fere information fer onct in yer life, Roger. I know jest th' feller ye want. He used t' live out here 'fore he growed up, got a eddercation, 'n' become one a'them chaps what looks through a glass, 'n' tells ye 'bout bugs in th' drinkin' water, 'n' wigglers turnin inter musquiters. 'N' he looks through a thing like a telescope, 'n' tells ye 'bout lines, 'n' angles, 'n' feet, 'n' chains, 'n' links, 'n' so on. What d' ye call them fellers?"
"Surveyors," ventured Roger.
"That's it. He's a surveyor. Addison Vanter is his name. He's one of 'em employed by the city, 'n' his office is in th' town hall. I'll take ye right t' him; I know him, 'n' he'll fix ye up. G'lang, Kate!"
"I didn't tell the folks I was coming away," said Roger, "so I hope we'll be back before very late. I wouldn't like them to be worried on my account."
"We'll git back all right," answered Mr. Took. "'Long 'bout haf-past eight er nine o'clock. Bert's folks won't miss ye 'til then, 'specially as boys is allers traipsin' off sommers er other."
"I guess nine o'clock will not be too late," said Roger. "Would you mind, Mr. Took," the boy went on, "not speaking about this trip to people in Cardiff? You see I want to surprise my uncle, and I don't want him to know anything about what I am doing. There's nothing wrong in it, though."
Mr. Took promised readily enough, as he knew he could trust the boy, and he did not ask any questions, for which Roger was grateful. They were well on their journey now, driving along the pleasant valley road in the sunshine. It yet lacked considerable of noon, but Roger began to feel hungry, for, in the excitement, he hadnot eaten much breakfast. Mr. Took seemed to know this, and with a good-natured smile, he reached under the seat and pulled out a pail.
"My wife allers puts this snack up for me when I go t' th' city," he said. "Here, help yerself," and he extended the pail filled with crisp, brown doughnuts and some cream cheese. Roger did full justice to Mrs. Took's excellent cooking, and, when he had finished the fifth cake he felt much better. Nor had Mr. Took been a whit behind him in disposing of the toothsome fried cakes.
"They're fine," was Roger's verdict.
"Allers make me thirsty," commented Mr. Took, "but I know where I kin git a drink."
He shook the reins, and Kate trotted on.
"Whoa up!" shouted Enberry, suddenly pulling the mare in. "Here we be."
Beside the road was a hollowed-out tree trunk, moss lined, filled to the edges and running over with clear, cool, sparkling water, that flowed and bubbled into the trough from a wooden pipe, made from a hollow log, which extended back to the spring. There was a dried yellow gourd for a dipper, and Mr. Took and Roger drank their fill, while Kate stuck her nose deep into the liquid, and sucked it up with queer little noises.
"Finest water in th' state," said Mr. Took, wiping his mouth dry on the back of his hand, "finest water in th' state."
And Roger agreed with him.
"Wa'al, we'll git along I guess," said Enberry, aftera pause, and they made no other stop until they reached Syracuse. Mr. Took drove under the sheds back of the Candee House, where the Cardiff stage put up. This lumbering vehicle had arrived a few minutes before them.
"Not so bad," said Mr. Took, glancing at his big silver watch. "It's one o'clock. Now we'll git some dinner. Hello, Porter!" he called to the stage driver, who just then emerged from the barn. "How be ye? Most got in ahead on ye, didn't I?"
"Had t' make a few extra stops," explained Mr. Amidown. "Made me a leetle late," and, with a nod, he passed on.
Now Roger was almost as hungry as if he had not eaten the doughnuts, and he wanted his dinner very much. But he knew hotels charged for food, even if it was for a small boy, and he realized, for the first time, that, in his hurry he had come away without any money. So he began to wonder how he could pay for a meal, or even a half of one, providing they had that kind. He did not like to go in with Mr. Took, under the circumstances, so he rather hung back, when his friend followed the stage driver into the public parlor of the Candee House. But Enberry was quick to notice the boy's diffidence, and, rightly guessing the cause, he said:
"I'm standin' treat t'-day, Porter. You 'n' Roger here, is invited t' dine at my expense. 'T ain't often I git a chanst t' hev company at my hotel, 'n' when I do I make th' most on it. Now, now," as he saw Rogerhesitating, "no excuses, jest come right along. I've got lots t' do, 'n' no time t' stand on ceremony. 'Sides, I'm 's hungry's a b'ar 'n' her four cubs."
So there was nothing to do but accept the invitation, and soon all three were sitting down to a plain, but bountifully spread table.
"I'll take ye t' thet feller I spoke about, Roger," said Mr. Took, as he began on his second piece of pie. "Then I'll hev t' leave ye. Be back here by six o'clock, 's I'll start then. Can't do my tradin' much afore thet. That'll give us a chanst t' git a bite a' supper, 'n' we kin be in Cardiff by nine o'clock. Th' moon's full, 'n' it'll be good drivin'."
"He kin go back 'ith me, 'bout three o'clock," spoke up Mr. Amidown. "I'd like t' hev him on th' stage."
Roger thanked his friend for the offer, but said he was not sure he could be through with what he had to do in that short time, and so he decided to stick to his original plan and go back with Mr. Took. It would be more fun, too, he thought, driving home by moonlight. The dinner was soon over, and, when Mr. Took had paid the bill, he and Roger walked up the main street of Syracuse.
They made their way to the city hall, and Enberry soon located his acquaintance. Mr. Vanter was glad to see some one from Cardiff, especially Mr. Took, with whom he was quite friendly. Roger was introduced.
"He's a N' York city boy, out on a visit to his uncle, a neighbor a' mine," explained Enberry. "He has anotion he wants t' see ye 'bout suthin', jest what, I don't know, but he'll tell ye. Now I've got t' go. Remember, Roger, be at th' Candee House by six o'clock."
"I will," replied the boy, as Mr. Took left.
"Now, my young friend, what can I do for you?" asked Mr. Vanter, pleasantly.
Roger pulled from his pocket the paper containing the mysterious white crystals. He held them toward the surveyor.
"What are they?" the boy asked.
Mr. Vanter took them in his hand. He smelled of them, once, twice. Then, taking a tiny piece of one of the particles he touched it on the tip of his tongue. He made a wry face.
"Humph!" he remarked, and tasted again. "It must be," he muttered to himself, as Roger looked anxiously on. Then the chemist got a test tube, put some of the crystals in it, and poured a little water on them. He shook the glass violently, until the white particles had all dissolved. Then he brought out several bottles of chemicals, and began his tests. Roger was much interested, and, at the conclusion of the experimenting, when Mr. Vanter put his materials aside, the boy leaned forward, and asked breathlessly:
"What is it?"
"You have here," said Mr. Vanter, smiling a little, "a very fine sample of—pure rock salt."
"Salt?"
Roger's heart went away down into his shoes. Why,he thought, should Mr. Ranquist and Mr. Dudley have been so elated over a little salt.
"Just ordinary salt, though a very fine grade," repeated the surveyor.
"Only salt," and there was a world of disappointment in Roger's tone.
"But salt is not to be despised, by any means," went on Mr. Vanter. "If it wasn't for the salt wells, Syracuse would not be such a fine city as it is. Besides, if there was no salt, the people of the whole world would be very badly off. Is there something behind all this, Roger? Perhaps if you tell me I may be able to help you more than I can now. As it is I am working in the dark."
"Then I'll tell you everything," said Roger, and he did so, from the arrival of the two strangers in Cardiff, and his suspicions of them, the manner in which he had discovered them drilling the hole, how they sought to keep him away from the spring glade, and, finally, his escape from Mr. Ranquist that morning, ending with his journey to Syracuse.
"Hum," remarked Mr. Vanter at length. "Hum." He pursed up his lips, and wrinkled his forehead in deep thought as he paced rapidly back and forth in his office. Then he clapped his hands together with a resounding whack, and cried aloud:
"That's it! By the Great Horn Spoon, but that's it! No wonder they want to keep it secret."
"What?" asked Roger, Mr. Vanter's excitement infecting him. "What is it?"
"Well," began the surveyor, cautiously, "I wouldn't want to raise any false hopes, but, Roger, my boy, I think you have stumbled across a big discovery, or, rather, you have probably done so at the same time these two men did. And it's a mighty good thing for you and your uncle. You say he is greatly in need of money to pay off this mortgage. Does Mr. Ranquist or Mr. Dudley know about that?"
"I'm afraid they do," said Roger, thinking of how Adrian had incautiously told something of his father's affairs to the engineers that day.
"That's bad, that's bad," went on Mr. Vanter, half to himself. "Now, since they know you are on the track of their secret, they'll act promptly. Every minute is valuable. They may get your uncle to sign an agreement to-day promising to sell his land to them, and if he does so, it's as binding as if he deeded it away, if they choose to make him fulfil the contract, as, no doubt, they would do. If I had only known of this yesterday. But perhaps we can catch them yet." He looked quickly at his watch.
"But what's it all about?" asked Roger, who did not yet understand what made Mr. Vanter so excited, all over a little salt.
"It's this," replied the surveyor. "Unless I 'm very much mistaken, those men have discovered on your uncle's farm a valuable deposit of rock salt. Of its extent and worth I can only guess, but, from the actions of Mr. Ranquist, the mine must be a rich one. His object will be to secure Mr. Kimball's land, or that part of it inthe spring-glade, before the fact becomes known that there is salt under the surface. Thus he can obtain, for the price of ordinary farming real estate, property that may be worth thousands and thousands of dollars."
Roger felt his breath come with a gasp.
"And it's our business to prevent this," said Mr. Vanter. "Now," he went on, "I'll tell you what we'll do."
He seemed to be thinking out a plan, and Roger waited, all impatience.
"You take the stage back to Cardiff," continued the surveyor. "I'll come on after you with Mr. Took, and that will give me time to make some arrangements here. Now be careful what you do. Don't tell any one you have seen me, and, when I arrive in Cardiff, don't recognize me if you meet me in the road. Above all, hurry. You have only just time to catch the stage. When you get home, say to your uncle the first thing: 'Don't sign any papers to sell the spring-glade land for at least a week.' If he wants to know why, tell him, and say you have seen me. But, if he hasn't signed, don't let him. Now hurry, and good luck go with you."
With wildly beating heart, thinking of what might happen in the next few hours, Roger made his way to the Candee House, where he found the stage just pulling out.
"Hi there! Mr. Amidown! Please take me along!" shouted the boy.
"Oh! Eh! Changed yer mind, did ye?" said Porter,as he pulled up his team and helped Roger to climb on the high seat. "Wa'al, I'm glad t' hev ye come along. I didn't hev no one t' ride 'ith me. Nothin' but a lot a' weemin passengers this trip. G'lang, Pete 'n' Jim," and he nicked the horses lightly.
Roger thought the ride to Cardiff would never come to an end. But, at last, he came in sight of the white church. He jumped off the stage at the post-office, and ran all the way to his uncle's house. He burst into the kitchen, where he saw Mr. Kimball looking at a paper.
"Fer th' land sakes," burst out Mrs. Kimball, "we thought a b'ar had carried ye off, Roger."
"Uncle Bert!" cried the boy, earnestly, "don't sign any papers, agreeing to sell the land near the spring!"
Mr. Kimball gazed slowly over the rims of his spectacles at his nephew.
"Wa'al," he began slowly, "I didn't know 's ye knew anythin' 'bout this transaction, but ye're a leetle too late. I signed an hour ago. Mr. Ranquist brought th' agreement t' me, 'n' I must say I think I got a good price. Enough t' pay off th' mortgage, 'n' a leetle over."
"Then you have signed?" spoke the boy, waiting in fear for the answer.
"I hev."
"I'm too late," exclaimed Roger, bitterly. "They got ahead of me, after all."
The sudden entrance of Roger, his words and manner, and his earnestness, created no small excitement in the Kimball household. Adrian and Clara, who had been in the sitting-room, discussing the situation, and rejoicing over the sale of the land, by means of which the mortgage could be paid, came hurrying into the kitchen as they heard their cousin speak.
"Hello, Roger!" exclaimed Adrian. "I was just going out to hunt you up. Where were you?"
"Out to Syracuse," answered Roger, briefly.
Mr. Kimball folded up the agreement of sale he had been reading, and came over to where his nephew stood.
"Roger, my boy," he began, "what do ye mean? What is all this about, anyhow? Ain't I got a right t' sell my land ef I want t'? 'N' ain't two thousand dollars a good price fer th' spring-glade?"
"No, sir! It is not!" burst out the boy. "That's just it. You've gone and bargained away land worth probably twenty times what you have agreed to sell it for."
"What's that? I guess ye don't know what ye're talkin' about, Roger."
"I guess I do," said Roger, stoutly, but not forgetting the deference due his uncle. "Look here!" and he held out a few of the white crystals.
"What's them?" asked Mr. Kimball.
"Rock salt."
"Rock salt. Wa'al, what of it? There's lots of it, out t' Syracuse."
"And there's lots of it on that land you've agreed to sell," exclaimed Roger. "That's what I went to the city for. That's what I've been following Mr. Ranquist and Mr. Dudley for. Uncle Bert, your farm, or part of it, anyhow, is right over a salt mine. I know this, though I can't say how big the mine is. But a man who knows something about such things believes it will be worth lots of money. That's why I tried to hurry home, to prevent you from signing the property away."
"Oh! Why didn't ye wait, Bert?" said Mrs. Kimball, in a sorrowful voice.
"Wa'al," spoke Mr. Kimball, in rather a husky tone, "I s'pose I ought t' hev, but how'd I know there was salt on my land? There ain't never been no evidences of it. How d'ye know there is?" turning suddenly to Roger.
"Because," answered the boy, earnestly, "I saw Mr. Ranquist and Mr. Dudley drilling a hole near the spring. I saw them pull up something on the end of a rod, from deep down under the earth. This morning I lowered a weight on a string down the hole, and these white crystals stuck to the wax on the end of the lead. Mr. Ranquist saw me, and he chased me, but I beat him running. Then Iwent to a man in Syracuse. Enberry Took gave me a ride out. The man told me what this stuff was, and wanted me to warn you not to agree to sell."
Then Roger related the whole story to his uncle and the rest of the family, just as he had told Mr. Vanter. When he had finished a silence fell on the little group in the farmhouse kitchen.
"Humph!" ejaculated Mr. Kimball, at length. "I guess th' boy's right. I wonder I didn't smell a rat when this feller Ranquist come so hot arter my land, when there's plenty other t' be hed in Cardiff. I never suspicioned nothin'. He offered me one thousand dollars, 'n' I says make it two thousand, so's I could pay off th' mortgage."
"Did he do it?" asked Roger.
"Never hesitated a minute," went on Mr. Kimball. "Agreed to it right away. 'N' then he hed me go up t' Squire Bimmer's office, 'n' sign th' agreement. Paid me five hundred dollars down," and Mr. Kimball drew out a crisp bank-note, and gazed rather sorrowfully at it. "He said he'd pay th' balance 's soon 's we could draw th' deed, t'-morrow er next day, but he said th' agreement were's bindin' 's ef he hed a deed."
"I guess it is," said Roger, remembering what Mr. Vanter had told him.
"Plowshares 'n' hoe handles, but why didn't I wait!" lamented Mr. Kimball. "Though how in th' name a' th' sacred cat was I t' know there were salt on th' land. My! My! But I guess I've made a bad mistake."
So, instead of being glad because the land was sold, Mr. Kimball, and all the family, were greatly downcast after they had listened to Roger's story. And he, too, took very much to heart the disappointment of his uncle. If he had only acted a day sooner, all this trouble would have been avoided. But it was too late for regrets now, and the only thing to do, was to make the best of it, the boy thought. Yet it was very hard to see valuable land sold for such a small sum, particularly when his uncle needed money so badly. There was just a faint hope in Roger's heart, that perhaps Mr. Vanter might be able to suggest a way out of the difficulty. But the hope was so faint that he hardly dared speak of it. He could only wait until the promised arrival of the surveyor, and see what would come of it.
Troubled dreams disturbed the usually quiet slumbers of more than one member of the Kimball home that night. Roger's uncle was so restless, tossing to and fro on the bed, and thinking of his lost opportunity, that he was glad when morning came, so he could get up and go to work. The others, also, thought too much of what had happened to sleep well.
After the chores were done up Mr. Kimball paid a visit to the spring glade. To his eyes, not experienced in looking for signs of mineral wealth, there were no indications of a salt mine beneath the surface, and he felt himself almost wishing such a thing could not be true. But he could scarcely doubt it, after what had occurred. With a heavy heart he took up the duties of the day.
"Come on, Roger," called Adrian, as soon as he had done his part of the morning's work about the farm, "let's go up by the spring, and see where the salt mine is. Cracky! I wish I'd been along when you went fishing on dry land. I'll bet I'd fired a stone at Ranquist."
"I wish you had been along," said Roger. "Your father would not have signed then. But I thought I was acting for the best."
"Of course you did. It isn't your fault," replied Adrian.
The two boys walked up the hill, and were soon at the place. On the way Roger was wondering whether Mr. Vanter had come out. He remembered his instructions, to pretend not to recognize the surveyor. As the lads approached the spring they could hear through the trees, the noise of men digging, and voices in conversation. The click of spades and shovels was plainly audible.
"They're at it already!" exclaimed Adrian. "Hurry up, and let's see 'em get the salt out."
"I guess they won't reach it very soon," said Roger. "It's about twenty-five feet under the surface."
The boys quickened their steps, and soon came to the open glade. Three men were busy at work, two of them laborers, while the third was a familiar figure to Roger, who gave a start of surprise as he recognized Mr. Vanter directing operations. But even in the intense excitement of the moment, Roger did not forget his promise, and he was prepared to show by no sign that he had ever seen the surveyor before.
"Why, there's a new man," said Adrian, as he caught sight of Mr. Vanter. "I thought, at first, it was Mr. Dudley or Mr. Ranquist, but it isn't. I wonder who he is. Anyhow, let's see what they are doing."
The cousins watched the laborers with great interest. Mr. Vanter glanced up and saw Roger, but, though he gave just the faintest smile, to show he knew his young friend, he made no motion to indicate that the order of last night was not to be obeyed, so Roger kept silent.
The two laborers were digging a sort of inclined shaft, sinking it about the place where Mr. Ranquist had drilled the small hole. Their picks and shovels made the brown dirt fly, and Mr. Vanter urged them on, as though they were working against time. The boys watched for perhaps ten minutes, when there came a sound, as if some one was approaching. The next instant Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist appeared on the scene. Roger started in surprise, wondering what would happen now, but Mr. Vanter gave no indication that he saw the engineers, and the laborers kept on digging.
"Well," said Mr. Ranquist, at length, "I must say I consider this a rather high-handed proceeding. By what right, sir, are you working on my property? Do you know," addressing Mr. Vanter, "that you and your men are trespassing, and are liable to arrest?"
"Since when have you owned this land?" asked the surveyor, coolly. "This belongs to Bert Kimball, a friend of mine, and—"