CHAPTER XII
THE WARNING
Though not a very great distance separated the vicinity of the mountain of mystery from Chesterport, Tom and Ned decided they would occupy two days on the trip. By hard driving they might have covered the trail in a day and a night, but there was no special need of haste. Then, too, Tom Swift did not want to push the motor of his House on Wheels to the safe limit even, for he wanted to get it well broken in and limbered up before trying any stunts with it.
"This is the life!" sang Ned, as they rolled along the level highway. "Eh, Tom?"
"It sure is! Makes a fellow glad to be alive!"
"This is one of the best things you ever turned out of your shop," went on Ned, indicating by a comprehensive motion of his hand the vehicle in which they were riding.
As they motored along, their big car attracted much attention, not only from passing machines but on the part of persons in towns and villages through which they passed.
Noon came almost before the two travelers realized it, and, being then on a country road with no settlement in sight, they pulled off the highway, stopped under some trees and near a little stream, and prepared to have lunch.
The pantry had been well stocked, and Ned and Tom, being used to camping, had no difficulty in preparing a light meal, part of which was set to cooking on the electric stove. In a little while there was a most appetizing odor in the air and either this, or perhaps a sight of the big machine itself, caused a passing man to stop.
He was obviously a hobo, a rather dirty, unshaven and ragged specimen of tramp. Yet his face had an impudent, roguish smile and his manner was ingratiating as he shuffled up in the dust until he was opposite the House, outside of which Tom and Ned sat on stools in the shade. They were waiting for the potatoes to boil.
"How's business, Boss—maybe I ought to say Bosses?" asked the tramp in a hoarse voice. He leered and smiled.
"What do you mean—business?" asked Tom.
"The lunch-wagon business." The tramp seemed surprised at the question. Very evidently he took the House on Wheels for one of those roadside refreshment places.
"We haven't opened up yet," said Ned, carrying on the delusion.
"Smells like you had," commented the tramp, hungrily sniffing. "If that ain't hash and onions cooking may I never eat another meal!"
He was vehement about it. From his looks he did not appear to have eaten a meal recently.
"Is it hash and onions?" he asked.
"Guessed it first shot," commented Tom.
"But I can't see how you can expect to do much business here," went on the hobo. "This road ain't much traveled."
"We're our own best customers," chuckled Ned, and at the man's look of surprise he added enough information to show the nature of the House on Wheels.
"Well, then it's a washout as far as it goes with me," sighed the tramp. "I was goin' to ask if I couldn't do you folks some work for the price of a hand-out, but if yours is a private concern——"
"Oh, I guess we can manage to get you something," said Tom good-naturedly. A little later when he and Ned were eating in the combined kitchen and dining room, they handed the tramp a generous plateful, for which he expressed gratitude.
"Travel much in these parts?" asked Ned, as the hobo was about to shuffle along.
"More or less, Boss."
"Ever been to Dismal Mountain?"
"No, I can't say I have. And, what's more, I don't intend to! So if you folks is aimin' to have me go there to work for what you jest give me, count it out! I'm sorry, but——"
"Nothing like that," interrupted Tom. "I just wanted to know if we were on the right road to get there."
"Yes, you're on the right road," the tramp admitted, with a shake of his head. "But what for you fellers want to go to Dismal Mountain, gets me!"
"What's the matter with the place anyhow?" asked Ned.
"Oh, I don't know's there's much the matter with theplace," and the man emphasized the word. "It's the birds that hang out around there."
"Ghosts?" asked Tom, with a smile.
"Ghosts!" exploded the tramp. "I'd rather meet ghosts than some of the guys what hangs out there. Tough babies—an' I don't mean maybe!"
"A rough crowd, eh?" asked Ned.
"Tougher'n what I like," admitted the tramp. "I don't claim to be no saint, but I'm pretty decent compared to some of the hard-boiled eggs that hide around Dismal Mountain."
"Then you wouldn't advise us to go there?" Tom asked.
"It's none of my business, Boss," was the answer. "You know what your own game is better'n what I do. But I wouldn't advise you to take any valuables with you when you go to Dismal Mountain."
"Thanks," murmured Ned. "We aren't wearing any diamonds."
"Some of the guys there'll steal the laces out of your shoes," went on the tramp.
"Just what kind of criminals hang out there?" inquired Tom.
"A kind I never travel with," was the quick rejoinder. "I'm a bum—I don't deny it—and I'm not lookin' for work. But I'd sooner work than pull off some o' the things that those babies do. Keep your eyes open if you go there."
"We will," promised Ned.
The tramp shuffled away, and when the two chums were again alone Ned looked at Tom and asked:
"Think we'd better follow through?"
"Sure! Why not?"
"Well, there are only two of us and if there are some tough gangs up there, or even a small band, we might run into trouble."
"I'm not going to run away from trouble," declared the young inventor. "Maybe it would have been wise to have had at least Koku along. But I'm not going back after him. We'll go on to Dismal Mountain and see what's there. Are you with me?"
"I sure am, Tom!"
They rested after the noon meal, washed the dishes in the near-by brook, to save the supply of water in the auto tanks, and then journeyed on in leisurely fashion. They expected to reach the mountain of mystery the following night.
It was dusk when they stopped the House on the outskirts of a little village and prepared the evening meal. Then, having disposed of that, they decided to go into town for the sake of the exercise and to see if they could buy a paper.
They hired a couple of boys from a house near where they had parked their machine to stand guard over it while they were in town, and one can well imagine with what pride the youngsters accepted the commission.
"We won't let nobody come near it until you come back!" promised the older boy.
"I got my baseball bat if they do!" chimed in his brother.
Stopping for an ice-cream soda in the only store of the town that dispensed this refreshment and having bought a paper, Ned and Tom lingered a while to listen to the somewhat excited and loud talk that was going on amid a crowd of men in the place, evidently the headquarters of the village gossips.
"And they got clean away!" one man declared. "Took every darn cent, too!"
"Did they hurt the guards?" asked another.
"Shot at 'em, but missed. It was all over quick."
"Didn't they see which way the robbers went?" some one wanted to know.
"Off toward Dismal Mountain," another answered.
"Might have known it!" commented several. "That place ought to be wiped out."
"This sounds interesting," remarked Tom to Ned in a low voice. "I'm going to butt in."
Accordingly, he addressed the principal speaker and asked what all the talk was about.
"Highway robbery, that's what!" came the vehement answer. "A couple of men guarding the pay roll of the shoe factory here were held up this afternoon and robbed of about four thousand dollars."
"I just now heard you mention Dismal Mountain," went on Tom. "Is that a hang-out for highwaymen?"
"That and worse," was the reply. "Dismal Mountain is a good place for honest folks to stay away from."
"Well, my friend and I claim to be honest," said Tom, indicating Ned. "But we are on our way to Dismal Mountain and——"
"Don't go!" exclaimed an old man in the store. "I know more about that place than most folks, and my advice to you is not to go there. Unless you're officers aiming to arrest the scoundrels that hide there," he added hopefully.
"No, we aren't officers," stated Ned.
"We were just going there to find out what gives the place its bad name," added Tom. "We would rather like to solve the mystery."
"Well, be warned by me and keep away," went on the old man. "I used to live not far from the place," he added, "and I don't want to see any more such goings on as I witnessed."
"What were they?" asked Ned.
"I couldn't tell you," was the answer, with a dubious shake of the head. "I've seen men go up that mountain and never come down. There were queer noises and queer lights. Nobody that had a valuable horse near Dismal Mountain ever left him in a field over night. If they did he wasn't there in the morning."
"This sounds interesting," said Tom.
"Interesting, young man!" exclaimed the speaker. "It'sdangerous! That's what it is!Dangerous!"
There was so much interest in the recent hold-up that the departure of Tom and Ned was little noticed. They went back to the House on Wheels where they found the two boys had been faithful to their trust, and, having paid and dismissed them, the two travelers turned in for the night.
"Well, what about it?" asked Tom of his chum when they arose the next morning and found it raining and blowing. "Shall we lay over?"
"Not on my account," declared Ned. "This storm doesn't seem to be going to amount to much."
"Oh, it wasn't of the storm I was speaking."
"What then?"
"The warnings we had last night against proceeding to Dismal Mountain. If you——"
"Nothing doing!" interrupted Ned. "I'll go with you to the end of the trail!"
"That settles it. We keep on!" cried Tom.
After a hearty breakfast, they took their places on the front seat and started off. For a time they followed a good concrete road, but it soon branched off, and their way lay along a highway that had once been good but which was so no longer.
As the day advanced, taking the travelers farther on their way, the storm increased. By afternoon and after lunch, which they ate while moving along, they were in the midst of a terrific downpour with a wind which reached at times the velocity of a gale.
"She seems to weather it all right, though," remarked Ned, indicating their traveling House.
"Standing up fine!" agreed Tom, much pleased with the staunchness of his latest invention. "We'll be almost there by night in spite of the storm and the bad road."
Hardly had he spoken than there was a fiercer burst of wind, which dashed the rain like hail against the protecting glass in front. Just then Ned pointed ahead as a loud crash sounded and cried:
"Look out, Tom! Stop! Danger!"