CHAPTER VII.
THREE HUNGRY MEN
After the departure of Jimmie and Carl, Ben sat in the shelter-tent by the side of the injured man until he was half asleep. Mr. Havens had fallen into a light slumber, and there was no one to talk to. He finally arose and walked out to the fire, looking about for some sign of the flying machine as he did so.
The Louise was not in sight, being at that time beyond the ridge to the east, but the boy saw something which contributed wonderfully to his wakefulness. A great mountain rat was creeping out of the long grass toward the spot where the refuse of the meals which had been served offered a tempting repast.
As much to keep awake as anything else, he watched the nimble-footed, sharp-eyed rodent advancing inch by inch toward its supper. Whenever he moved a hand or foot the rat darted back and was lost to view. While he watched, Mr. Havens called softly from the tent.
“Shoot all the rats you see, Ben,” the aviator said. “If he gets a bellyful here every rat in the Rocky mountains will know it before daybreak. We may stay here several days, and can’t afford to fight rats every hour of the day and night!”
Ben drew his revolver and when the rat appeared again, fired. He missed at the first shot and fired again and again, until the rodent lay dead halfway between his hiding-place and the tempting bait.
“That looks wicked to me,” Ben declared as he reloaded his automatic.
“Self-preservation, you know,” Mr. Havens explained. “The rats would eat us alive in less than a week if we let one get away well-fed.”
Ben went back to the tent and sat down, but, at the suggestion of the aviator, left almost immediately to bury the body of the rat and the garbage which had drawn him to the camp. While engaged in this occupation, he heard a call from the grass to the south.
“Don’t shoot!” the voice said, in what seemed to be a tremor of alarm.
Ben sprang back to the tent and lifted his automatic from the blanket where he had laid it. Mr. Havens motioned toward another weapon and Ben placed it in his hand. Then the two stood waiting.
“Don’t shoot!” the voice from the darkness repeated. “We mean you no harm! We are lost in the mountains!”
“Who are you?” asked Ben, as footsteps advanced and three figures became distinguishable under the light of the fire.
“Campers who have lost our way,” was the answer.
The three men came on until their faces as well as their figures were under the glow of the blaze. They held their hands out to show that they were not carrying weapons.
“The shots you heard were directed at a mountain rat,” Ben explained, as the men came up to where he stood.
The men revealed by the light of the camp-fire appeared at first sight to be entirely unfamiliar with the usages of the mountains. They were dressed in tailor-made clothes of good material, but their faces were blackened by smoke and bore scraggly beards of a week’s growth.
“Beg pardon,” one of the men said briskly as he stepped closer to the fire. “Our intrusion is entirely unpremeditated.”
“We left our camp early this morning,” another member of the little group cut in, “and lost our way. We have been chased by grizzlies and have fallen into gulches and canyons until we are about used up.”
“You are hungry?” asked Ben.
“Hungry?” repeated one of the visitors. “I never was so hungry in my life. To tell the truth, we never expected to see a camp-fire or a square meal again. Of all the blasted countries on the face of the earth, this mountain district of British Columbia takes the lead!”
“Where’s your camp?” asked Ben.
“I wish I knew,” answered one of the others. “We came in here a week ago for a month’s shooting and we’ve been trying to keep track of our camp ever since. It seems to me that it shifts about from point to point whenever we leave it!”
“Now, look here, Dick,” one of the other men interrupted, “Steve and I know what kind of a liar you are, but this stranger doesn’t. First thing you know, you’ll give him the impression that we’re all candidates for the foolish house. If you want to draw on your imagination, jest tell him how hungry you are.”
“I’m so hungry,” Dick answered, “that I could eat grass like the old king who was turned out to pasture a good many hundred years ago. I’ve been thinking for several hours of slicing down a couple of these peaks and making a grass sandwich. I should have done it, too, only I was afraid of finding a nest of rattlers in the grass.”
“Well,” Ben said with a chuckle at the fellow’s exaggeration, “if you want a fine bear steak, you can get one at the foot of the slope. A grizzly dropped down from the upper regions late this afternoon and we’ve been feeding off him ever since.”
“Is the meat good yet?” asked Dick.
“I think so,” replied Ben. “You can tell by bringing in a few slices and putting them over the coals to broil.”
“As a rule,” Dick went on, “I don’t eat meat of any kind, but to-night I think I could handle a couple of steaks cut off a horse.”
Without waiting for any more explanations the two men who had been called Steve and Joe hastened out to the carcass of the grizzly and soon returned with large slices of bear steak. Ben brought the broiler out of one of the tents and the men set to work cooking their suppers. They seemed rather handy at the task for city men.
While the steak was cooking, Ben made an extra large and extra strong supply of coffee and brought out tin dishes from the box where they kept their table furniture. The visitors eyed preparations for supper eagerly. Now and then one of them turned his eyes in the direction of the aeroplanes but made no comment.
“My, but that steak smells good!” exclaimed Dick. “I don’t believe I can wait for it to cook through, Joe,” he added, “so you just smoke up a piece, giving an imitation of a restaurant steak, and I’ll eat it raw.”
“It won’t be long now,” Joe answered with a laugh.
“Long?” repeated the other. “A quarter of a second seems longer to me now than all the time that has elapsed since Noah marched his menagerie out of the ark!”
“How long have you been in the valley?” asked Ben.
“All night, I think,” Dick replied. “We saw the slope on the east and mistook it for the one at the foot of which our camp is situated. The farther we walked the farther the cliff looked to be. Honest,” the man went on, with a whimsical smile, “I believe the cliff can travel faster than we can. Most remarkable country, this!”
Long before the steaks were thoroughly cooked the men fell to, eating like persons who had been deprived of food for many days.
“You’re the second party of hungry men we met to-night,” Ben said.
The three looked up instantly with something more than interest showing in their faces. Then, as if by common consent they turned toward the aeroplanes.
“Who are the others?” asked Dick.
“I don’t know,” replied Ben. “They were husky-looking fellows who claimed to be mounted policemen. One of them killed the bear.”
“Those are the fellows!” Dick exclaimed.
“You’ve seen them, have you?”
“Not to-day,” Dick replied. “Yesterday, two men answering the description came to our camp and asked all sorts of questions about the object of our visit. They asked where we came from, and how long we were going to stay, and if we had seen other strangers in the mountains.”
“Did they claim to belong to the mounted police?”
“They did not, but they appeared so everlastingly curious to know all about us that somehow I got the idea that they did belong to the Canadian force. They were hungry when they came to our camp, too.”
“Did they say anything about aeroplanes?” asked Ben.
“Not a word!” was the reply.
“And, look here,” Dick observed, cutting an extra large piece of steak from the slice which lay on his plate, “I think I saw the camp-fire of our visitors to-night. It’s up on the slope to the north.”
“You don’t suppose they’re train robbers, do you?” asked Steve, rather excitedly. “I have heard,” he continued, “that train robbers and other criminals come here to hide away from officers of the law.”
“I’ve been guessing about them ever since they were here,” Ben replied.
“If I thought they were train robbers,” Dick put in, “I’d take a jump for the nearest railroad without waiting for daylight! If you want to scare me stiff, just mention train robbers or grizzly bears! After those fellows left our tent yesterday, I was so frightened that I couldn’t eat more than half a supper. Honest,” he continued, “if I had seen this bear come tumbling down the slope, I would have let out a yell that would have alarmed the people at Spokane!”
“You’re a great coward, if we leave it to you,” laughed Joe.
Dick grunted and applied himself with greater energy to the bear steak.
After the men had eaten their fill Dick moved over to the machines. He stood for some moments by the Ann without touching her and then walked back to the fire. His companions looked at him inquiringly.
“That’s a pretty good machine you have there,” he said. “Did you bring it over the mountains?”
“Yes,” answered Ben, “we brought in three aeroplanes. Two of our boys are out now with the third one.”
“That’s a fact,” Dick exclaimed as the clamor of motors came through the still air. “And they’re doing a pretty good job, flying in the night, at that! Looks as if they understood the game!”
The Louise lifted above the spot where the colored lights had been displayed and whirled straight across the valley.
“What’s she going off in that direction for?” asked Dick. “Did you notice that she came from the camp I mentioned a short time ago?”
“I did notice that,” answered Ben, “and I’m wondering why.”
The Louise swept along at amazing speed and was soon lost to sight behind the summit to the west. Ben arose and entered the tent where Mr. Havens lay.
“You saw the Louise?” the boy asked.
“Are you sure that was the Louise?”
“There’s no doubt of it,” Ben replied. “The ordinary aeroplane doesn’t carry a light like that. It’s the Louise, all right, and I was wondering what the boys are going toward the coast for.”
“I wish I knew that the boys are in charge of her,” Mr. Havens said, after a moment’s thought. “I’m always afraid something will happen when those boys get off together. If I hadn’t walked all over those porcupines last night, I’d mount the Ann and make an investigation.”
“If you think it’s safe for you to remain here with these visitors,” Ben suggested, “I’ll go up in one of the machines and see what they’re doing. I’m rather nervous over the matter myself.”
“I heard the talk going on by the fire,” the aviator explained, “and my impression is that these men are all right. Still, it’s rather a risky thing to do, to leave the camp and one machine in the custody of a man incapable of defending them.”
“Perhaps we’d better wait a short time and see if the Louise doesn’t return. I don’t like to take chances,” added Ben.
Presently the three visitors were invited into the tent where Mr. Havens lay and the four talked together for some minutes, then the aviator beckoned to Ben and whispered in his ear.
“I think it’s all right for you to take the Ann out. These men seem to be honest fellows. They’re from Chicago, and know as little about mountain work as a cat that has lived all its life in Gamblers’ alley.”
This was exactly according to Ben’s inclinations, and the boy lost no time in getting the Ann ready for the air. The three visitors came out to assist, and when Ben took his seat Dick suggested significantly that he had never had the pleasure of riding in a flying machine.
“Jump in then,” Ben said with a smile. “I’ll show you how it seems to fly over mountains in the night.”
At that moment the Louise lifted over the valley once more.
CHAPTER VIII.
“HOME OF THE FORTY THIEVES.”
Jimmie and Carl were now in a shallow wrinkle or gully which reached from the summit of the mountain to the shelf upon which the mysterious camp-fire had been seen. From their position they could not secure a view of their own camp, which was much lower down.
They could see the fire from which the mysterious signals had been given, and also the Louise winging her way toward them, but they could not see the Ann lifting under the stars. She was still much too low for that.
The increasing clatter of the approaching motors of the stolen machine, now not far away, effectually drowned the noise made by the Ann. In fact the sparking of the oncoming machine made conversation on the part of the boys rather difficult, obliging them to almost shout into each other’s ears when conferring together.
It was decidedly uncomfortable for the boys in the gully. A chill wind blew down from the snow-capped tops. They were glad that they had brought their warmest clothing, and only wished they had more of it.
“I wish we knew exactly where the fellows intend to land,” Jimmie said as the boys paused in their progress toward the camp-fire.
“Yes,” Carl answered, shouting until he was red in the face, “we ought to be right on the spot in order to give them an appropriate reception.”
“They’ve got their nerve, anyway!” Jimmie exclaimed. “They steal our machine and then they bring it right back!”
“Perhaps they just borrowed it for a joy-ride!” chuckled Carl.
“These fellows don’t look like joy-riders,” Jimmie argued. “They look like men who are here for some definite purpose.”
“They must think they’ve got us backed off the board,” Carl suggested, “or they wouldn’t think of bringing the machine back to the place from which they stole it.”
The Louise came steadily on, flying rather close to the ground. As it came nearer the boys saw that the seats were occupied by three men.
“That accounts for their keeping in the heavy air next to the ground,” Jimmie explained. “I don’t believe they can make the summit with that load! They must have thrown off a lot of supplies in order to coax the old machine into carrying three.”
The machine passed over the camp-fire and proceeded toward the summit, passing almost directly over the boys as they crouched down in the gully.
This gully was little better than a wrinkle on the slope of the mountain. It began at the summit and terminated at the shelf where the camp-fire had been built. At some distant day a great boulder or a glacier had started at the top and cut this trail to the shelf.
The sides of the gully were quite steep; in fact, almost perpendicular in places. Only at rare intervals were the walls in such shape as to render egress possible. Wherever the rocks were nearly perpendicular there were little shallow caves half-concealed under beetling crags.
It seemed an ideal place for unlawful operations, and the boys wondered, as they sat waiting for some indication of the purpose of the men in the machine, whether they had not come upon one of the resorts of men who make a business of smuggling whiskey across the border.
Presently the Louise disappeared from view, and in a short time following the vanishing of the lights the sparking of the motors ceased.
“It strikes me,” Jimmie said, speaking lower now, “that the old machine has landed on the shelf where we left her. Now, what do you think the thieves mean by such conduct? I think if I stole an aeroplane, or a cow, or a bulldog, I’d keep it away from the vicinity of the owner.”
“Aw, they think they’ve got a couple of boys to deal with,” Carl answered. “But they’ll find we’ve got good automatics and know how to use them if they get gay with us.”
“I’d like to go on a trip before I die,” Jimmie grumbled, “where I wouldn’t have to carry an automatic in my hand every minute of the time day and night! We butted into shooters in Mexico, in southern California, and in Peru, and now we’ve got into the game here.”
“I don’t like the automatic incidents myself,” chuckled Carl. “Whenever I pick up a book, now, and catch the hero drawing a pistol and pointing with deliberate aim, I chuck the story into the garbage box.”
The boys did not dare advance to the camp-fire, now, for should they do so their figures would be plainly discernible from the summit, to which the men from the Louise would undoubtedly make their way. Before long, exclamations of annoyance were heard far up the gully, and now and then a sharp, round light made its appearance.
“That’s one of the electrics they stole from the Louise!” exclaimed Carl. “And they’re coming down here, too,” he went on, “right into this gully!”
“Yes,” Jimmie answered, “and there are two at the fire now, instead of one. Reckon the other must have been asleep.”
“They’re coming up the gully!” exclaimed Carl.
“And the others are coming down!”
“It’s a blooming trap!” Carl cried. “They knew we’d make for the camp-fire when they stole our machine. They knew we’d be so cold on the shelf near the summit that we’d freeze to death if we didn’t. So they waited until we got into the trap and started out from both ends to meet us. No wonder they brought the machine back to the old place with a combination like that working!”
“We might hide in one of these openings between the rocks,” Jimmie suggested. “They probably know every one of ’em as well as we know every burr and bolt in the Louise, but even if they do it will take them a long time to find which one we’re hiding in.”
They could see the two men who had left the fire scrambling up the gully, still some distance away. The men who were coming down were faintly outlined against the brilliant sky, and occasionally against the white surface of the summit. This party was also some distance away.
The boys searched about industriously for a hiding-place, rejecting several breaks in the rocks as being too shallow, and finally came to a cavern which seemed to extend a considerable distance under the slope.
“I’d like to know what kind of a hole this is,” Carl whispered as the two moved backward in absolute darkness.
“I brought my searchlight from the machine,” Jimmie whispered back, “and when we get in a little farther, so the light won’t be seen from outside, I’ll turn it loose.”
“You’d better do it now!” urged Carl. “When they get exactly in front they can see the light, no matter how much we try to shield it.”
“That’s a good idea, too!” Jimmie declared.
When the light was turned on it revealed a cavern at least twenty feet in width, extending back farther than the finger of light reached. The floor was level and smooth, apparently worn so by the passing of feet, and the walls held many shelves and openings, undoubtedly made by the hand of man.
“You see,” Jimmie whispered, “we’ve struck a robbers’ den, all right.”
“Had we better go in farther?” asked Carl.
“Of course!” answered Jimmie. “We’ll go in as far as we can. They’ll search the place, of course, and probably capture us in the end, but we’ll find out all we can about their nest before they get hold of us.”
“That’s a bet!” exclaimed Carl.
For a moment the boys argued as to whether they ought to visit the entrance before passing farther in, in order to ascertain exactly what the others were doing, but they finally decided not to do so. Had they followed Jimmie’s suggestion and looked out, they would have seen the Ann hovering over the valley just beyond the shelf where the camp-fire blazed.
The boys did not understand as they passed in why they were not followed by the others without loss of time. As the minutes passed and no lights or footsteps came from the entrance, they grew bolder and advanced by the light of the electric.
Had the boys known that the Ann was hovering over the scene they would have understood why their pursuers were too much interested to give them much of their attention at that time.
Perhaps fifty paces from the entrance the cavern was divided into two sections by a wall of rock which sprang up almost exactly in the center. The boys entered the one at the right and soon came upon a collection of barrels, casks and boxes.
“This must be the home of the Forty Thieves,” chuckled Jimmie.
“Yes,” Carl answered, “and we’re likely to meet old Ali Baba at any minute! I wish we could put the old rascal into a stone jar and fill it with boiling oil,” the boy added with a grin.
“I guess we’ll be the boilees of anything of that kind takes place here to-night,” Jimmie argued. “They’ll simply be red-headed when they find out that we’ve penetrated their treasure cave.”
“We’re always butting into something that makes our death desirable,” complained Carl. “Don’t you hear those fellows coming in?”
“I don’t hear anything, do you?”
“Not a thing!”
“They don’t have to come in here after us, anyway!” Jimmie argued. “They can just sit by the entrance with a little automatic and catch us when we get starved out!”
“Perhaps there’s something in here in the way of provisions,” suggested Carl. “If there is, it’ll take them a long time to freeze us out. And while they’re doing it, the boys will come up to investigate and get us out. Let’s look and see what there is here.”
Jimmie turned his electric on one of the casks and read the letters burned into the head.
“Whiskey!” he said turning up his nose in disgust.
“But they must have provisions here if they keep a bonded warehouse like this,” urged Carl. “Let’s keep looking.”
A long search revealed nothing more substantial than whiskey, brandy and liquors of various kinds. The boys sat down on a barrel and discussed the situation soberly.
“What a snap this would be for some of the hoboes we meet on the Bowery occasionally,” snickered Carl, after the possibilities of escape had been thoroughly gone over. “You take a real native-born Boweryite and he’d feel insulted if you suggested that he ought to get out.”
“Well, I don’t see any sustenance in whiskey!” Jimmie answered, gloomily, “and I think we’d better be moving up toward the front in order to watch our chance to sneak out.”
“Say,” Carl suggested in a moment, “how’d you like to get another look at those husky fellows who contributed the bear to our supper?”
“I don’t care about meeting them just at this time!” Jimmie replied.
“But see here,” Carl continued. “You remember what Mr. Havens said about the two men who were seen at Colleton’s office door in the Washington building. You remember the big fellow with the spinach on his map, don’t you?”
“I remember what he said about him.”
“Well, as has already been surmised, that big fellow is keeping company with Colleton. The man who got the inspector away from his desk is still keeping track of him, you may be sure of that!”
“And you think one of the men we saw at our camp may be the identical person, eh?” questioned Jimmie.
“Oh, it’s only a guess,” Carl answered, “but one of them may be the man who got Colleton out of the building, just the same.”
“We don’t know that Colleton was taken out of the building by the big man!” declared Jimmie. “Ben insists that the slim man at the office door was Colleton, drugged and disguised, but it’s no sure thing that he’s right! I think he is, but he may be mistaken for all that!”
“Wouldn’t it be a snap if we could seize one of those big fellows and have him turn out to be the right one? We’d take him down to the camp and put him through the third degree, and then he’d tell us where Colleton is hidden, and where the stolen proofs are, and who hired him to do the job, and a whole lot of other stuff calculated to put the mail-order thieves in bad with the jury.”
“Wake up, boy, wake up!”
“Aw, let me dream. And then,” he went on, “we could go to Washington and get the reward and bring it back to New York in bags and barrels–”
“Cut it out,” whispered Jimmie. “There’s some one moving just behind us! Wouldn’t it be a joke on us if many of these barrels should contain brigands instead of brandy?”