Out from the Red Cloud piled Tom and the others. They made a rush for the irregular mass of rock which bore so strong a resemblance to the head of some gigantic man.
“That's the one! That's the thing I saw when they were taking me along here blindfolded!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks. “I'm sure we're on the right trail, now!”
“But what gets me, though,” remarked Mr. Damon, “is why we couldn't see that landmark when we were up in the air. We had a fine view, and ought to have been able to pick it out with the telescopes.”
The adventurers saw the reason a few seconds later. The image was visible only from one place, and that was directly looking up the valley. If one went too far to the right or left the head disappeared from view behind jutting crags, and it was impossible to see it from overhead, because the head was almost under a great spur of a mighty mountain.
“We might have hunted for it a week in the airship, and been directly over it,” said Tom, “and yet we would never have seen it.”
“Yes, but we never would have gotten here in such good shape if it hadn't been for your wonderful craft,” declared Mr. Jenks. “It brought us here safely and quickly, and enabled us to elude the men who tried to keep us back. We're here in spite of them. If we had traveled by train they might have interfered with us in a dozen ways.”
“That's so,” agreed Mr. Damon. “Well, now we're here, what's to be done? Which way do we start to reach the cave where the diamonds are manufactured, Mr. Jenks?”
“That I can't say. As you know, I only had a momentary glimpse of this stone head as they were taking me along the trail. Then one of the men noticed that the bandage had slipped and he pulled it into place. So I really can't say which direction to take now, in order to discover the secret.”
“How long after you saw the head before you reached the cave?” asked Tom. “In that way we may be able to tell how far away it is.”
“Well, I should say it was about two or three hours after I saw the head, before we got to the halting place, and I was carried into the cave. That would make it several miles from here, for we went in a wagon.”
“Yes, and they might have driven in a round-about way, in order to deceive you,” suggested Mr. Damon. “At best we have but a faint idea where the diamond cave is, but we must search for it; eh, Tom?”
“Certainly. We'll start right in. And as the airship will be of but little service to us now, I suggest that we leave it in this valley. It is very much secluded, and no one will harm it, I think. We can then start off prospecting, for I have a large portable tent, and we can carry enough food with us, with what game we can shoot, to enable us to live. I have a regular camping outfit on board.”
“Fine!” cried Mr. Parker, “and that will give me a chance to make some observations among the mountains, and perhaps I can predict when a landslide, or an eruption of some dormant volcano, may occur.”
“Bless my stars!” cried Mr. Damon. “I don't wish you any bad luck, Mr. Parker, but I sincerely hope nothing of the sort happens! We had enough of that on Earthquake Island!”
“One can not halt the forces of nature,” said the scientist, solemnly. “There are many towering peaks around here which may contain old volcanoes. And I notice the presence of iron ore all about. This must be a wonderful place in a thunder and lightning storm.”
“Why?” asked Tom, curiously.
“Because lightning would be powerfully attracted here by the presence of the metal. In fact there is evidence that many of the peaks have been struck by lightning,” and the scientist showed curious, livid scars on the stone faces of the peaks within sight.
“Then this is a good place to stay away from in a storm,” observed Mr. Damon. “However, we won't worry about that now. If this is the landmark Mr. Jenks was searching for, then we must be in the vicinity of Phantom Mountain.”
“I think we are,” declared the diamond seeker. “Probably it is within sight now, but there are so many peaks, and this is such a wild and desolate part of the country that we may have trouble in locating it.”
“We've got to make a beginning, anyhow,” decided Tom, “and the sooner the better. Come, we'll make up our camping kits, and start out.”
It was something to know that they were on the right trail, and it was a relief to be able to busy oneself, and not be aimlessly searching for a mysterious landmark. They all felt this, and soon the airship was taken to a secluded part of the valley, where it was well hidden from sight in a grove of trees.
Tom and Mr. Damon then served a good meal, and preparations were made to start on their search among the mountains—a search which they hoped would lead them to Phantom Mountain, and the cave of the diamond makers.
The tent which would afford them shelter was in sections, and could be laced together. They carried food, compressed into small packages, coffee, a few cooking utensils; and each one had a gun, Tom carrying a combination rifle and shotgun, for game.
“We can't live very high while we're on the trail,” said the young inventor, “but it won't be much worse than it was on Earthquake Island. Are we all ready?”
“I guess so,” answered Mr. Damon. “How long are we going to be away?”
“Until we find the diamond makers!” declared Tom, firmly.
Shouldering their packs, the adventurers started off. Tom turned for a last look at his airship, dimly seen amid the trees. Would he ever come back to the Red Cloud? Would she be there when he did return? Would their quest be successful? These questions the lad asked himself, as he followed his companions along the rocky trail.
“Perhaps we can find the road by which these men go in and out of the cave,” suggested Mr. Damon, when they had gone on for several miles.
“I fancy not,” replied Mr. Jenks. “They probably take great pains to hide it. I think though, that our best plan will be to go here and there, looking for the entrance to the cave. I believe I would remember the place.”
“But why can't you follow the directions given by the miner who told you about Phantom Mountain?” asked Mr. Damon.
“Because his talk was too indefinite,” answered Mr. Jenks. “He was so frightened by seeing what he believed to be a ghost, that he didn't take much notice of the location of the place. All he knows is that Phantom Mountain is somewhere around here.”
“And we've got to hunt until we find it; is that the idea?” asked Mr. Parker.
“Or until we see the phantom,” added Tom, in a low voice.
“Bless my topknot!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “You don't mean to say you expect to see that ghost; do you Tom?”
“Perhaps,” answered the young inventor, and he did not add something else of which he was thinking. For Tom had a curious theory regarding the phantom.
They tramped about the remainder of that day. Toward evening Tom shot some birds, which made a welcome addition to their supper. Then the tent was put together, some spruce and hemlock boughs were cut to make a soft bed, and on these, while the light of a campfire gleamed in on them, the adventurers slept.
Their experience the following day was similar to the first. They saw no evidence of a large cave such as Mr. Jenks had described, nor were there any traces of men having gone back and forth among the mountains, as might have been expected of the diamond makers, for, as Mr. Jenks had said, they made frequent journeys to the settlement for food, and other supplies.
“Well, I haven't begun to give up yet,” announced Tom, on the third day, when their quest was still unsuccessful. “But I think we are making one mistake.”
“What is that?” inquired Mr. Jenks.
“I think we should go up higher. In my opinion the cave is near the top of some peak; isn't it, Mr. Jenks?”
“I have that impression, though, as you know, I never saw the outside of it. Still, it might not be a bad idea to ascend some of these peaks.”
Following this suggestion, they laid their trail more toward the sky, and that night found them encamped several thousand feet above the sea-level. It was quite cool, and the campfire was a big one about which they sat after supper, talking of many things.
Tom did not sleep well that night. He tossed from side to side on the bed of boughs, and once or twice got up to replenish the fire, which had burned low. His companions were in deep slumber.
“I wonder what time it is?” mused Tom, when he had been up the third time to throw wood on the blaze. “Must be near morning.” He looked at his watch, and was somewhat startled to see that it was only a little after twelve. Somehow it seemed much later.
As he was putting the timepiece back into his pocket the lad looked around at the dark and gloomy mountains, amid which they were encamped. As his gaze wandered toward the peak of the one on the side of which the tent was pitched, he gave a start of surprise.
For, coming down a place where, that afternoon, Tom had noticed a sort of indefinite trail was a figure in white. A tall, waving figure, which swayed this way and that—a figure which halted and then came on again.
“I wonder—I wonder if that can be a wisp of fog?” mused the young inventor. He rubbed his eyes, thinking it might be a swirling of the night mist or a defect of vision. Then, as he saw more plainly, he noticed the thing in white rushing toward him.
“It's the phantom—the phantom!” cried Tom, aloud. “It's the thing the miner saw! We're on Phantom Mountain now!”
Tom's cries awakened the sleepers in the tent. Mr. Damon was the first to rush out.
“Bless my nightcap, Tom!” he cried. “What is it? What has happened? Are we attacked by a mountain lion?”
For answer the young inventor pointed up the mountain, to where, in the dim light from a crescent moon, there stood boldly revealed, the figure in white.
“Bless—bless my very existence!” cried the odd man. “What is it, Tom?”
“The phantom,” was the quiet answer. “Watch it, and see what it does.”
By this time Mr. Jenks and Mr. Parker had joined Tom and Mr. Damon. The four diamond seekers stood gazing at the apparition. And, as they looked, the thing in white, seemingly too tall for any human being, slid slowly forward, with a gliding motion. Then it raised its long, white arms, and waved them threateningly at the adventurers.
“It's motioning us to go back,” said Mr. Parker in an awed whisper. “It doesn't want us to go any farther.”
“Very likely,” agreed Tom, coolly. “But we're not going to be frightened by anything like that; are we?”
“Not much!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks. “I expected this. A ghost can't drive me back from getting my rights from those scoundrels!”
“Suppose it uses a revolver to back up its demand?” asked the scientist.
“Wait until it does,” answered Mr. Jenks. But the figure in white evidently had no such intentions. It came on a little distance farther, still waving the long arms threateningly, and then it suddenly disappeared, seeming to dissolve in the misty shadows of the night.
“Bless my suspenders!” cried Mr. Damon. “That's a very strange proceeding! Very strange! What do you make of it, Tom?”
“It is evidently some man dressed up in a sheet,” declared Mr. Jenks. “I expected as much.”
“The work of those diamond makers; do you think?” continued Mr. Damon.
“I believe so,” answered Tom, slowly, for he was trying to think it out. “I believe they are the cause of the phantom, though I don't know that it's a man dressed in a sheet.”
“Why isn't it?” demanded Mr. Jenks.
“Because it was too tall for a man, unless he's a giant.”
“He may have been on stilts,” suggested Mr. Parker.
“No man on stilts could walk along that way,” declared Tom, confidently. “He glided along too easily. I am inclined to think it may be some sort of a light.”
“A light?” queried Mr. Damon.
“Yes, the diamond makers may be hidden in some small cave near here, and they may have some sort of a magic lantern or a similar arrangement, for throwing a shadow picture. They could arrange it to move as they liked, and could cause it to disappear at will. That, I think, is the ghost we have just seen.”
“But the diamond makers have only been in this mountain recently,” objected Mr. Jenks, “and the phantom was here before them. In fact, that was what gave the place its name.”
“That may be,” admitted the lad. “There are many places that have the name of being haunted, but no one ever sees the ghost. It is always some one else, who has heard of some one who has seen it. That may have been the case here. I grant that this place may have been called 'Phantom Mountain' for a number of years, due to the superstitious tales of miners. The diamond makers came along, found the conditions just right for their work, and adopted the ghost, so to speak. As there wasn't any real spirit they made one, and they use it to scare people away. I think that's what we've just seen, though I may be wrong in my theory as to what the phantom is.”
“Well, it's gone now, at any rate,” said Mr. Jenks, “and I think we'd better get back inside the tent. It's cold out here.”
“Aren't some of us going to stand guard?” demanded Mr. Damon.
“What for?” asked Mr. Jenks.
“Why—er—bless my key-ring! Suppose that ghost takes a notion to come down here, and use his gun, as he did on the miners?”
“I don't believe that will happen,” remarked Tom. “The diamond makers, if the white thing had anything to do with them, have given us a warning, and I think they'll at least wait until morning to see how we heed it.”
“We aren't going to heed it!” burst out Mr. Jenks. “I'm going to go right ahead and find that cave where they make diamonds!”
“And we're with you!” exclaimed Tom. “We'll have a good fire going the rest of the night, and that may keep intruders away. In the morning we'll begin our search, and we'll go up the trail where we saw the white figure.”
A big pile of wood had been collected for the fire, and Tom now piled some logs and branches on the blaze. It would last for some time now, and the adventurers, still talking of the “ghost” went back into the tent. It was over an hour before they all got to sleep again, and Mr. Jenks and Mr. Damon took turns in getting up once or twice during the remainder of the night to replenish the fire.
Morning dawned without anything further having occurred to disturb them, and, after a hearty breakfast, to which Tom added some fish he caught in a nearby mountain stream, they set off up the trail on Phantom Mountain.
They had left their tent standing, as they proposed making that spot their headquarters until they located the cave they were seeking. What their course would be after that would depend on the circumstances.
If they had expected to have an easy task locating the cavern in which Mr. Jenks had seen diamonds made, the adventurers were disappointed. All that day they tramped up and down the mountain, looking for some secret entrance, but none was disclosed. The higher they went up the great peak, the fainter became the trail, until, at length it vanished completely.
But this was not to be wondered at, since it was on solid rock, in which no footsteps would leave an impression.
“They never brought you up here in a wagon, Mr. Jenks,” decided Tom, when he saw how steep the place was.
“I'm inclined to think so myself,” admitted the diamond man. “They must have reached the cave from some other way. As a matter of fact, I walked some distance after getting out of the vehicle, before we got to the cavern. But, even at that, I don't believe we came this way.”
“Yet the phantom was here,” persisted Tom, “and I'm convinced that the cave is in this neighborhood. It's up to us to find it!”
But they searched the remainder of that day in vain, and as night was coming on, they made their way back to the camp. As Tom, who was in the lead, approached the tent, he saw something black fastened to the entrance.
“Hello!” he cried. “Some one's been here. That wasn't on the tent when we left this morning.”
“What is it?” asked Mr. Damon.
“A black piece of paper, written on with white ink,” replied the lad. He was reading it, and, as he perused it a look of surprise came over his face.
“Listen to this!” called Tom. “It's evidently from the diamond makers.”
Holding up the black paper, on which the white writing stood out in bold relief Tom read aloud:
“Be warned in time! Go back before it is too late! You are near to death! Go back!”
“Bless my shoelaces!” cried Mr. Damon. “This is getting serious.”
Gathered about the young inventor, the three men looked at the warning. The writing was poor, and it was evident that an attempt had been made to disguise it. But there was no misspelling of words, and there were no rudely drawn daggers, or bloody hands or anything of that sort. In fact, it was a very business-like sort of warning.
“Rather odd,” commented Mr. Jenks. “Black paper and white ink.”
“White ink is easy enough to make,” stated Mr. Parker. “I fancy they wanted it as conspicuous as possible.”
“Yes,” agreed Tom, “and this warning, together with the antics of the thing in white last night, shows that they are aware of our presence here, and perhaps know who we are. We will have to be on our guard.”
“Do you think that fellow Munson, whom we left in the forest, could have gotten here and warned them?” asked Mr. Damon.
“It's possible,” admitted Tom, “but now let's see if the person who pinned this warning on our tent took any of our things.”
A hasty examination, however, showed that nothing had been disturbed, and Tom and Mr. Damon were soon getting supper ready, everyone talking, during the progress of the meal, about the events of the day, and the rather weird culmination of it.
“Well, we haven't had a great deal of success—so far,” admitted Tom, as they sat about the fire, in the fast gathering dusk. “I think, perhaps, we'd better try on the other side of the mountain to-morrow. We've explored this side pretty thoroughly.”
“Good idea,” commented Mr. Jenks. “We'll do it, and move our camp. I only hope those fellows don't find our airship and destroy it. We'll have a hard time getting back to civilization again, if we have to walk all the way.”
This contingency caused Tom some uneasiness. He did not like to think that the unscrupulous men might damage the Red Cloud, that had been built only after hard labor. But he knew he could accomplish nothing by worrying, and he tried to dismiss the matter from his mind.
They rather expected to see the thing in white again that night, but it did not appear, and morning came without anything having disturbed their heavy sleep, for they were tired from the day's tramp.
It took them the greater part of the day to make a circuit of the base of Phantom Mountain in order to get to a place where a sort of trail led upward.
“It's too late to do anything to-night,” decided Tom, as they set up the tent. “We'll rest, and start the first thing in the morning.”
“And the ghost isn't likely to find us here,” added Mr. Damon. “Where are you going, Mr. Parker?” he asked, as he saw the scientist tramping a little way up the side of the mountain.
“I am going to make some observations,” was the answer, and no one paid any more attention to him for some time. Supper was nearly ready when Mr. Parker returned. His face wore a rather serious air, and Mr. Damon, noting it, asked laughingly:
“Well, did you discover any volcanoes, that may erupt during the night, and scare us to death?”
“No,” replied Mr. Parker, calmly, “but there is every indication that we will soon have a terrific electrical storm. From a high peak I caught a glimpse of one working this way across the mountains.”
“Then we'd better fasten the tent well down,” called Tom. “We don't want it to blow away.”
“There will not be much danger from wind,” was Mr. Parker's opinion.
“From what then?” asked Mr. Jenks.
“From the discharges of lightning among these mountain peaks, which contain so much iron ore. We will be in grave danger.”
The fact that the scientist had not always made correct predictions was not now considered by his hearers, and Tom and the two men gazed at Mr. Parker in some alarm.
“Is there anything we can do to avoid it?” asked Mr. Jenks.
“The only thing to do would be to leave the mountain,” was the answer, “and, as the iron ore extends for miles, we can not get out of the danger zone before the storm will reach us. It will be here in less than half an hour.”
“Then we'd better have supper,” remarked Tom, practically, “and get ready for it. Perhaps it may not be as bad as Mr. Parker fears.”
“It will be bad enough,” declared the gloomy scientist, and he seemed to find pleasure in his announcement.
The meal was soon over, and Tom busied himself in looking to the guy ropes of the tent, for he feared lest there might be wind with the storm. That it was coming was evident, for now low mutterings of thunder could be heard off toward the west.
Black clouds rapidly obscured the heavens, and the sound of thunder increased. Fitful flashes of lightning could be seen forking across the sky in jagged chains of purple light.
“It's going to be a heavy storm,” Tom admitted to himself. “I hope lightning doesn't strike around here.”
The storm came on rapidly, but there was a curious quietness in the air that was more alarming than if a wind had blown. The campfire burned steadily, and there was a certain oppressiveness in the atmosphere.
It was now quite dark, save when the fitful lightning flashes came, and they illuminated the scene brilliantly for a few seconds. Then, by contrast, it was blacker than ever.
Suddenly, as Tom was gazing up toward the peak of Phantom Mountain, he saw something that caused him to cry out in alarm. He pointed upward, and whispered hoarsely:
“The ghost again! There's our friend in white!”
The others looked, and saw the same weird figure that had menaced them when they were encamped on the other side of the peak.
“They must have followed us,” said Mr. Jenks, in a low voice.
Slowly the figure advanced, It waved the long white arms, as if in warning. At times it would be only dimly visible in the blackness, then, suddenly it would stand out in bold relief as a great flash of fire split the clouds.
The thunder, meanwhile, had been growing louder and sharper, indicating the nearer approach of the storm. Each lightning flash was followed in a second or two, by a terrific clap. Still there was no wind nor rain, and the campfire burned steadily.
All at once there was a crash as if the very mountain had split asunder, and the adventurers saw a great ball of purple-bluish fire shoot down, as if from some cloud, and strike against the side of the crag, not a hundred feet from where stood the ghostly figure in white.
“That was a bad one,” cried Mr. Damon, shouting so as to be heard above the echoes of the thunderclap.
Almost as he spoke there came another explosion, even louder than the one preceding. A great ball of fire, pear shaped, leaped for the same spot in the mountain.
“There's a mass of iron ore there!” yelled Mr. Parker. “The lightning is attracted to it!”
His voice was swallowed up in the terrific crash that followed, and, as there came another flash of the celestial fire, the figure in white could be seen hurrying back up the mountain trail. Evidently the electrical storm, with lightning bolts discharging so close, was too much for the “ghost.”
In another instant it looked as if the whole place about where the diamond seekers stood, was a mass of fire. Great forked tongues of lightning leaped from the clouds, and seemed to lick the ground. There was a rattle and bang of thunder, like the firing of a battery of guns. Tom and the others felt themselves tingling all over, as if they had hold of an electrical battery, and there was a strong smell of sulphur in the air.
“We are in the midst of the storm!” cried Mr. Parker. “We are standing on a mass of iron ore! Any minute may be our last!”
But fate had not intended the adventurers for death by lightning. Almost as suddenly as it had begun, the discharge of the tongues of fire ceased in the immediate vicinity of our friends. They stood still—awed—not knowing what to do.
Then, once more, came a terrific clap! A great mass of fire, like some red-hot ingot from a foundry, was hurled through the air, straight at the face of the mountain, and at the spot where the figure in white had stood but a few minutes before.
Instantly the earth trembled, as it had at Earthquake Island, but it was not the same. It was over in a few seconds. Then, as the diamond seekers looked, they saw in the glare of a score of lightning flashes that followed the one great clap, the whole side of the mountain slip away, and go crashing into the valley below.
“A landslide!” cried Mr. Parker. “That is the landslide which I predicted! The lightning bolt has split Phantom Mountain!”
For a time the roiling, slipping, sliding and tumbling of the mass of earth and stones, down the side of the mountain, effectually drowned all other sounds. Even the thunder was stilled, and though Tom and his companions called to one another in terror, their voices could not rise above that terrific tumult.
Finally, when they found that the direction of the slide was away from their tent, and that they were not likely to be engulfed, they grew more calm.
Gradually the noise subsided. The great boulders had rolled to the bottom of the valley, and now only a mass of earth and stones was sliding down. Even this stopped in about five minutes, and, as though satisfied with what it had done, the electrical storm passed. Not a drop of rain had fallen.
“Bless my shirt studs!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, who was the first to speak after the din had quieted. “Bless my soul! But that was awful!”
“It was just what I expected,” said Mr. Parker, calmly. “I knew, from my observations, that we were in a region where landslides and terrific electrical storms may be expected at any time. I fully looked for this.”
“Well,” remarked Mr. Jenks, rather sarcastically, “I hope it came up to your expectations, Mr. Parker.”
“Oh, fully,” was the answer, “though I wish it could have happened in daylight, so that I could better have observed certain phenomena regarding the landslide. They are very interesting.”
“At a distance,” admitted Tom, with a laugh of relief. “Well, I'm glad it's over, though we'll have to wait until morning to see what damage has been done. Lucky we weren't struck by lightning. I never saw such bolts!”
“Me, either!” declared Mr. Damon. “This mountain seems to attract them.”
“It is like a magnet,” said Mr. Parker. “I think I shall be able to make some fine observations here.”
“If we live through it,” murmured Mr. Jenks.
They watched the play of lightning about a distant bank of clouds, but the storm was now far away, only a faint rumbling of thunder being heard.
“I'm wondering what happened to the phantom,” said Tom, after a pause. “Seems to me he was right in that track of the storm.”
“Do you think it was a 'he'?” asked Mr. Jenks.
“I think we'll find that it's some sort of a man,” answered the young inventor. “We may find out very soon, now. I've changed my theory about the ghost being reflections of light.”
“How's that?” Mr. Damon wanted to know.
“Well, I think we are on the side of Phantom Mountain where the diamond cave is,” went on the lad. “The fact that the phantom appeared here, soon after we arrived, shows that the men kept close track of our movements. It also shows, I think, that the phantom did not have to travel far to be on the spot, whereas we had to make quite a trip to get around the base of the mountain. I think the cave is up there,” and Tom pointed toward the spot where the weird figure had been last seen, before the storm drove it back.
“There may be two phantoms,” suggested Mr. Jenks. “They may keep one on this side of the mountain, and one on the other, to warn intruders away.
“It's possible,” admitted Tom. “Well, we'll see how things look in the morning, when we'll take up our march again, and go up the mountain. We'll reach the top, if possible, which we couldn't do from the other side, as it was too steep.”
“I hope we shall be able to go forward in the morning,” came from Mr. Jenks.
“What do you mean?” asked the lad, struck by a peculiar significance in the diamond man's tones.
“Why, that landslide may have opened a great gully in the side of Phantom Mountain, which will prevent us from passing. It was a terrific lot of earth and stones that slid away,” answered Mr. Jenks.
“It certainly was,” agreed Mr. Parker. “I would not be surprised if the mountain was half destroyed, and it may be that the diamond cave no longer exists.”
“Not very cheerful, to say the least,” murmured Mr. Jenks to Tom, and, as it was getting quite chilly, following the storm, they went inside the tent.
Tom could hardly wait for daylight, to get up and see what havoc the landslide had wrought. As soon as the first faint flush of dawn showed over the eastern peaks, he hurried from the tent. Mr. Damon heard him arise, and followed.
A curious scene met their eyes. All about were great rocks rent and torn by the awful power of the lightning. The fronts of the stone cliffs were scarred and burned by the electrical fire, and fantastic markings, grotesque faces, and leering animals seemed to have been drawn by some gigantic artist who used a bolt from heaven for his brush.
But the eyes of Tom and Mr. Damon took all this in at a glance, and then their gaze went forward to where the avalanche had torn away a great part of the mountain.
“Whew! I should say it was a landslide!” cried Tom.
“Bless my wishbone, yes!” agreed Mr. Damon.
Below them, in the valley, lay piled immense masses of earth and stones. Boulders were heaped up on boulders, and rocks upon rocks, being tossed about in heaps, strung about in long ridges, and swirled about in curves, as though some cyclone had toyed with them after the lightning flash had tossed them there.
“But the mountain isn't half gone,” said Tom, as his eyes took in what was left of the phantom berg. “I guess it will take a few more bolts like that one, to put this hill out of business.”
Though the landslide had been a great one, the larger part of the mountain still stood. An immense slice had been taken from one side, but the summit was untouched.
“And there's where the diamond cave is!” cried Tom, pointing to it.
“I think so myself,” agreed Mr. Jenks, who came from the tent at that moment, and joined the lad and Mr. Damon. “I think we shall find the cave somewhere up there. We must start for it, as soon as we have eaten, and we may reach it by night.”
The three stood gazing up toward the summit of the great mountain. Suddenly, as the sun rose higher in the heavens, it sent a shaft of rosy light on the face of the berg that had been scarred by the landslide. Tom Swift uttered an exclamation, and pointed at something.
“See!” he cried. “Look where the trail is—the trail down which the phantom must have come. It is on the edge of a cliff now!”
They looked, and saw that this was so. The increasing light had just revealed it to them. When the lightning bolt had torn away a great portion of the mountain it had cut sheer down for a great depth and when the earth and stones fell away they left a narrow pathway, winding around the mountain, but so near the edge of a great chasm, that there was room but for one person at a time to walk on that footway. The uncertain trail up Phantom Mountain had all but been destroyed.
“The way up to the peak is by that path, now,” spoke Tom, in a low voice.
“Bless my soul!” cried Mr. Damon. “It's as much as a man's life is worth to attempt it. If he got dizzy, he'd topple over, and fall a thousand feet. Dare we risk it?”
“It's the only way to get up,” went on Tom. “It's either that way, or not at all. We've tried the other side without success. We must go up this way—or turn back.”
“Then we'll go up!” cried Mr. Jenks. “It may not be as dangerous as it looks from here.”
But it was even more dangerous than it appeared, when they went part way up it after a hasty breakfast. The trail was a mere ledge of rock now, and in some places, to get around a projecting edge of the mountain, they had to stand with their backs to the dizzy depths at their feet, and with both arms outstretched work their way around to where the trail was wider.
“Shall we risk it?” asked Tom, when they had tried the way, and found it so dangerous. “We can't take anything with us—even our guns, for we couldn't carry them, and if we reach the mouth of the cave, and find those men there—”
He paused significantly. The adventurers looked at one another. The search for the diamond makers was becoming more and more dangerous.
“I say let's go on!” decided Mr. Damon, suddenly. “We want to locate that cave, first of all. Perhaps, when we do find it, we may see some easier way of getting to it than this. And if those diamond makers do attack us—well, I don't believe they'll shoot defenseless men, and they may listen to reason, and give Mr. Jenks his rights—tell him how to make diamonds in return for the money he gave them.”
“I don't believe those scoundrels will listen to reason,” replied the diamond man, “but I agree with Mr. Damon that we ought to go on. We may find some other means of reaching the cave—if we can discover it, and we'll take a chance with the men.”
“Forward it is, then!” cried Tom. “I have a revolver, and I can supply one of you gentlemen with another. They may come in useful in an emergency. Let's go back to camp, take a little lunch in our pockets, and try to scale the mountain.”
They were soon on their way up the dizzy path once more, and, as they advanced, they found it growing more and more dangerous. In some places they found it almost impossible to get around certain corners, where there was barely room for their feet. As Tom remarked grimly, a fat man never could have done it. Fortunately they were all comparatively thin, for their hard work, and not too abundant food, since they had left the airship, had reduced their weight.
Up and up they went, higher and higher, sometimes finding the path wide enough for two to walk abreast, and again seeing it narrow almost to a ribbon. They hardly dared look down into the chasm at their left—a chasm filled, in part, with the rocks and boulders tossed into it by the lightning bolt.
Tom was in the lead, and had just made a dangerous turn around a shoulder of rock—one of those places where he had to extend both arms, and fairly hug the cliff before he could get around.
But, when he had made it, and found himself on a broad pathway, cut in the living rock, he gave a great shout—a shout that caused his companions to hasten to his side. They found the young inventor pointing to a clump of bushes and small trees.
But it was not the shrubbery that Tom desired to call to their attention. They saw that in an instant, for, dimly seen through the leaves, was something black, and, as they looked more closely, they saw that it was a great hole in the side of the mountain—a vast cavern, opening like a tunnel.
“The cave! The cave!” cried Tom. “The diamond makers' cave!”
Hardly had he spoken than two men, each one carrying a gun, showed themselves in the mouth of the cavern, and, instant later they both ran toward the little party of adventurers.
Surprise held Tom and his friends almost spellbound for the moment. The young inventor's hand went toward the pocket where he carried his revolver. Mr. Jenks, who had the only other weapon, sought to draw it, but he was stopped by a gesture of one of the two men with guns.
“Hold on, strangers!” the man cried. “I know what you're up to! Better not try to draw anything—it might not be healthy. Now, then, who are you, and what do you want?”
The question came rather as a surprise, at least to Tom and Mr. Jenks. They had taken it for granted that these men—if they were the diamond makers—would know Mr. Jenks, and guess at his errand in coming back to Phantom Mountain. But, it seemed, that they took them all for casual strangers.
No one answered for a moment. Tom caught the eye of Mr. Jenks, and there was a look of hope in it. If ever there was a time for strategy, it was now. Evidently Munson, the stowaway on the airship, had not yet been able to send a warning to his confederates. And neither of the two men recognized Mr. Jenks as the man who had been defrauded of his rights. It might be possible to conceal the real object of the adventurers until they had time to formulate a plan of action.
“Well,” exclaimed the man with the gun, impatiently, “I ask you folks a question. What do you want?”
Fortunately, neither Mr. Damon nor Mr. Parker replied. The former because he deferred to Tom and Mr. Jenks, and the scientist because he was busy inspecting some curious rocks he picked up. As it turned out this was the luckiest thing he could have done. It lent color to what Mr. Jenks said a moment later.
“What are you doing up here?” demanded the man again. “Don't you know this is private property?”
“We—we were just looking around,” answered Mr. Jenks, which was true enough; as far as it went.
“Prospecting,” added Tom.
“After gold?” demanded the second man, suspiciously.
“We'd be glad to find some,” retorted the lad. At that moment Mr. Parker began breaking off bits of rock with a small geologist's hammer which he carried. The men with the guns looked at him.
“So you think you'll find gold up here?” asked the one who had first spoken.
“Is there any?” inquired Tom, trying to make his voice sound eager.
“Nary a bit, strangers,” was the answer, and the two men laughed heartily. “Now, we don't want to seem harsh,” went on the man who seemed to be the spokesman, “but you'd better get away from here. This is private ground, and dangerous too—how'd you ever get up the trail—we heard it was destroyed.”
“There is still a narrow path,” said Mr. Jenks. “We came up that—the lightning and landslide haven't left much of it, though.”
Mr. Parker looked quickly up from the rocks at which he was tapping with his small hammer. “You have terrific lightning up here,” he said. “I am much interested in it, from a scientific standpoint. I predict that some day the entire mountain will be destroyed by a blast from the sky.”
“I hope it won't be right away,” spoke one of the men. “Now I guess you folks had better be leaving while there's a path left to go down by.”
“Might I ask,” broke in Mr. Parker, as calmly as though he was lecturing to a class of students, “might I ask if you have noticed any peculiar effect of the lightning up here on the summit of the mountain? Does it fuse and melt rocks, so to speak?”
“What's that?” cried the spokesman, with a sudden flash of anger. The two men looked at each other.
“I wanted to know, merely for scientific reasons, whether the lightning up here ever melted rocks?” repeated Mr. Jenks.
“Well, whether it's for scientific reasons or for any other, I'm not going to answer you!” snapped the man. “It's none of your affair what the lightning does up here. Now you'd all better 'vamoose'—clear out!”
“All right—we'll go,” said Tom, quickly, at the same time motioning to Mr. Jenks to agree with him. The eyes of the young inventor were roving about. He saw what looked like a second trail, leading down the mountain, from the far side of the cave. He was convinced now that there was another way to get to it. Possibly they might find it. At any rate nothing more could be done now. They must go back, for the cavern was too well guarded to attempt to enter it by force—at least just yet.
“Yes, we'll go back,” assented Mr. Jenks.
Mr. Parker was tapping away at the rocks. He looked toward the black mouth of the big cave. On what corresponded to the roof of it, some distance back from the entrance, he saw a slender metal rod sticking up into the air.
“May I ask if that's a lightning rod?” he inquired innocently. “If it is, I should like to ask about its action in a mountain that is so impregnated with iron ore.
“You may ask until you get tired!” cried the spokesman, again showing unreasoning anger, “but you'll get no answer from us. Now get away from here before we do something desperate. You're on private ground and you're not wanted. Clear out while you have the chance.”
There was no help for it. Slowly our friends turned and began to go down the dangerous trail. They were soon out of sight of the two men who stood before the cave, with their guns ready, but neither Tom nor any of his companions spoke for some time.
When they had rounded one of the most dangerous turns the young inventor sat down to rest, an example followed by the others.
“Well,” asked Tom, “do you think those are some of the diamond makers, Mr. Jenks?”
“I certainly do, though I never saw those two men before. If I could once get inside the cave, I could tell whether or not it was the one where I was practically held a prisoner. But I'm sure it is. I know some of the men used to go off every day with guns, and not come back until night. I have no doubt they were on guard, just as these two are. And, also, I think I heard them speak of a second entrance to the cavern. The one we just saw may not be the main one, through which I was taken.”
“I believe we are on the right track,” ventured Mr. Damon, “but we will either have to go up there after dark, which will be risky, on account of the narrow trail, or else we will have to find some other path.”
“The last would be better,” spoke Tom.
“That rod of metal sticking up on top of the cave interested me,” said the scientist. “Did you hear anything of that when you were here before, Mr. Jenks?”
“No. Probably that is only a lightning rod, or it may be a staff for a signal flag. But what surprises me is that those men didn't suspect that we were seeking to discover their secret. They took us for ordinary prospectors.”
“So much the better,” remarked Tom. “We have a chance now of getting inside that cave. But we will have to go back to camp, and make other plans. And we must hurry, or it will be dark before we get there.”
They hastened their steps, pausing only briefly to eat some of the lunch they had brought along, and to drink from a spring that bubbled from the side of the mountain. It was getting dusk when they got back to their tent. They found nothing disturbed.
“I wonder if we'll see that phantom again to-night?” ventured Tom, as they were sitting about the campfire a little later.
“Probably not,” remarked Mr. Jenks. “I don't believe the ghost will venture down the dangerous trail after dark, and the gang may think that the warning given us by the two men on guard at the cave will be sufficient. But if we don't leave here by to-morrow I think we will have another visit from the thing in white.”
It was about an hour after this when Tom was collecting some wood in a pile nearer the fire, so as to have it ready to throw on, in case there was any alarm in the night, that he happened to look up toward the summit of the mountain. A slight noise, as of loose stones rolling down, attracted his attention, and, at first, he feared lest another landslide was beginning, but a moment later he saw what caused it.
There, advancing down the steep and dangerous trail was the figure in white—the phantom. Instantly a daring plan came into Tom's head. Dropping the wood softly, he moved back out of the glare of the fire.
“Mr. Jenks!” he called in a whisper.
The diamond man, who was behind the tent, came toward Tom.
“What is it?” he asked. Then, as he saw the ghostly visitor, he added: “Oh—the phantom again! What's it up to?”
“The same thing,” replied Tom, “but it won't do it long, if my plan succeeds.”
“What plan is that, Tom?”
“I'm going to try to capture that—that man—or whatever it is. Will you help?”
“Surely!”
“Then let's work around behind it, while Mr. Damon and Mr. Parker come up from in front. We'll solve this part of the mystery, anyhow, if it's possible!”
The two other men were soon told of the plan. Meanwhile the thing in white had advanced slowly, until within a few hundred feet of the camp. They could see now that it was no shaft of light, but some white body, shaped like a tall, thin man, draped in a white garment. The long arms waved to and fro. There was no semblance of a head.
“You and Mr. Parker go right toward it, slowly, Mr. Damon,” advised Tom. “Mr. Jenks and I will make a circle, and get in back. Then, if it's anything alive we'll have it.”
The “ghost” continued to advance. Tom and the diamond man stole off to one side, their buckskin moccasins making no sound. Mr. Damon and the scientist went boldly forward.
This movement appeared to disconcert the spirit. It halted, waved the arms with greater vigor than before, and seemed to indicate to the adventurers that it was dangerous to advance. But Mr. Damon and Mr. Parker kept on. They wanted to give Tom and Mr. Jenks time enough to make the circuit.
Suddenly the stillness of the night was broken by a low whistle. It was Tom's signal that he and Mr. Jenks were ready.
“Come on! Run!” cried Mr. Damon.
The scientist and the eccentric man leaped forward.
The “ghost” heard the whistle, and heard the spoken words. The thing in white hesitated a moment, and then raised one arm. There was a flash of fire, and a loud report.
“He's firing in the air!” cried Tom. “Come on, we have him now!”
Undaunted by the display of firearms, Mr. Damon and Mr. Parker kept on. They could hear Tom and Mr. Jenks running up in back of the figure. The latter also heard this, and suddenly turned. Caught between the two forces of our friends, the “ghost” was at a loss what to do.
The next instant Tom, who had distanced Mr. Jenks, made a flying tackle for the figure in white, and caught it around the legs. Very substantial legs they were, too, Tom felt—the legs of a man.
“Wow!” yelled the “ghost,” as he went down in a heap, the revolver falling from his hand.
“Come on!” cried Tom. “I have him!”
His friends rushed to his aid. There was a confused mass of dark bodies, arms and legs mingled with something tall and thin, all in white. Suddenly the moon came from behind a cloud and they could see what they had captured—for captured the phantom was.
It proved to be a rather small man, who wore upon his shoulders a framework of wood, over which some white cloth was draped. It had fallen off him when Tom made that tackle.
“Well,” remarked the young inventor, as he sat on the struggling man's chest. “I guess we've got you.”
“I rather guess you have, stranger,” was the cool reply.