Down the Slope

"Why, where does he think it was?"

"Buried on the mountain somewhere, an' if he sends men out to see if any diggin' has been done lately, the vein will surely be found."

"I'll go back any way!" Bill cried after a short pause. "Such as him shan't call me a thief."

"Now, look here, matey, what will be the good of gettin' yourself in jail? I've told Fred's mother jest how the matter stands, an' she believes as I do, that it'll be better to hang off a while in the hope something will turn up."

"An' have the constables chasin' us all over the country."

"It ain't certain they'll do that."

"But it may never be known positively who took the money," Fred added.

"If you're both so anxious to go to jail, wait till it is proved Sam is a thief, an' then show up to the constable. Things can't be worse for holdin' on a few days."

"'Cordin' to your own figgerin' there's a chance the coal will be found."

"I'll take care of that business while you an' Fred keep out of sight. With what I had, an' what could be borrowed, I've got two hundred an' twenty dollars. You shall take the odd money, an' the balance I'll plank down as a first payment on the land."

"Do you know who owns it?"

"A farmer who lived five or six miles the other side of Blacktown."

"That's correct, an' the sooner you see him the better."

"Will you agree to keep away from Farley's?"

"Yes," Bill said slowly, as if angry with himself for making the promise. "Fred an' me'll sneak 'round 'till the trade's made for this side the mountain, an' then figger up what it's best to do."

"Where can I see you to-morrow?"

"Right here. We'll stay in the woods a night or two."

"Have you got anything to eat?"

"No; but it's an easy matter to buy all we want."

"Take this money in case it is necessary to leave on the jump, an' I'll go on."

Handing his mate the twenty dollars, Joe went at a sharp gait toward Blacktown, and Bill said, with a shrug of the shoulders:

"So we're both thieves 'cordin' to the cashier's ideas; but wait 'till we get the land secured, an' I'll give that young man a lesson such as won't be very pleasant."

"Do you really mean to sleep in the woods?"

"Why not? It's warm weather, an' we'll be pretty nigh as well off there as at home."

"Then we'd better be looking for a good place. If mother hadn't sent word that I was to stay away, I'd go to Farley's this minute an' let them arrest me, for it seems as if we act guilty by running off."

"That's jest my idee, lad; but we'll obey orders a day or two."

A short distance to the right was a thickly-wooded grove, and here the two soon found what would serve very well as a camp.

A small cleared space, almost entirely screened from view by bushes, afforded all the protection which might be needed, and Bill threw himself on the ground.

"I reckon we can go without supper," he said, with forced cheerfulness, "an' there'll be no bother about lockin' the doors."

"It won't be long before I'm asleep. Walking around so much has tired me more than a full day's work in the breaker."

"Don't keep awake on my account. The sooner your eyes are closed the sooner you'll forget that there's a chance of bein' sent to jail."

With his head pillowed on some dry leaves Fred had no difficulty in summoning slumber; but Bill tossed to and fro on the hard bed without the slightest desire for sleep.

The boy was dreaming of the frightful hours spent in the short slope after the explosion, when he was awakened by the pressure of a hand on his mouth.

It was dark, save for the twinkling stars, and silent, except when the leaves were swayed by the gentle wind.

"Don't speak," Bill whispered as he removed his hand. "I can see the light of a fire over there to the right, an' it's well for us to know who are campin' so near."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Follow me. We'll creep up far enough to see what's goin' on, an' then come back, unless there's reason for changin' our lodgings."

"I'll keep close behind you," and Fred rose to his feet, Bill parting the bushes with both hands to avoid the slightest noise.

The glow of flames could be seen a long distance away, evidently on the opposite edge of the grove, and the two approached it as rapidly as was consistent with silence.

Soon the hum of voices was heard, and after a short time Bill stopped suddenly, gripped Fred by the hand, and pointed ahead.

Around a camp-fire, over which pieces of meat were being cooked, sat Gus Dobson and the friend who had caused him to distrust Fred and Skip.

"There may be a chance for us to find out a good deal of what we want to know," Bill whispered, and once more he advanced, moving with the utmost caution.

It was possible for the spies to creep within five yards of the encampment, thanks to the bushes, and when this had been accomplished the boys were eating supper.

"I don't believe in stayin' here too long," Gus was saying when Fred and Bill were near enough to distinguish the conversation.

"Nobody 'd think of huntin' for us in this place," his companion replied, "an' it ain't safe to take the cars yet a while, for them boys from Farley's have got men to back 'em."

"S'pposen they have? How can anybody find us if we walk up the track to the next station?"

"It's easy enough to send word all around, an' then we'd be nabbed the minute we showed our noses in a town."

"It will be jest as bad if they come here huntin' for us."

"You're a reg'lar fool, Gus Dobson. So long as we can keep the stuff where it is, what'll be gained by arrestin' us? We've got to take it with us when we leave, an' then whoever catches us will have the thing down fine."

"But we can't stay here forever."

"A couple of weeks won't hurt us, an' by that time folks will give up lookin' so sharp. They'll think we got away."

"We're too near Farley's."

"Then make a move. We can keep on a dozen miles or so through the woods, an' bury the stuff agin."

"I wanter get to New York."

"There's plenty of time for that, an' it'll be nothing more'n fun to camp out two or three weeks."

Gus made no reply, and after supper had been eaten his companion lay down beside the fire, saying as he did so:

"I'm goin' to sleep; you can figger the thing out between now and mornin', and say what you're willin' to do."

"It'll have to be as you say, I s'pose," Gus replied, sulkily; "but we must leave here."

"All right, we'll start to-morrow, an' when a good place is found, put up a reg'lar camp."

As he said this the boy rolled over as if to end the conversation, and Gus laid down beside him.

Bill waited until the heavy breathing of both told that they were asleep, and then, with a motion to Fred, he began to retreat.

Not until he was an hundred yards from the camp-fire did the miner halt, and said in a low whisper:

"It was a mighty good thing for us that warrant had been sworn out for you. If the cashier had waited a day or so we'd gone home without an idee of where them young scoundrels were."

"It seems certain they've got the money."

"Not a doubt of it."

"Why don't we jump right in on them? Perhaps they'd tell where it was buried."

"If they didn't we'd be worse off than before, for either one is smart enough to know nothin' can be done to 'em while the cash is hid. The only way for us is to keep an eye on the little villains, 'till they get ready for a move. Then we'll do our work."

"It'll be pretty hard to watch in the daytime without being seen ourselves."

"We must manage to do it somehow, for this is, perhaps, our last chance to help Sam."

CHAPTER XXIII

A MISADVENTURE

Neither Fred nor Bill had any desire to sleep, now that the solution of the mystery seemed so near. They remained in the same place where the halt was made until the blackness of night gave way before the pale threads of light.

"It's gettin' pretty nigh time to begin our work," Bill said, "an' this heat we mustn't make any mistake."

"I'm afraid we can't get near enough to see whether they take the money or not. Perhaps it isn't anywhere around here."

"Then we'll follow 'em, if it takes a week, to find out what we're after. My idee is that we'd better separate, so's to make sure of knowin' what's goin' on. You stay here, an' I'll creep over to the other side, then we shall be doublin' our chances."

"But what is to be done in case we don't see them dig up the money?"

"Foller, no matter how long a chase they lead us. We shall come together somewhere on the road; but it won't be a bad plan for you to take a little of this money. If we had only bought some grub last night things would be in better shape."

"I can get along without food for a week if there is any hope of helping Sam."

"The whole thing will be cleared up providin' we don't loose sight of them. Here's the money, an' now I'll be off. You'd best crawl nearer before the sun rises."

With a pressure of the hand Bill started, making a wide detour around the encampment, and Fred was alone, trying hard to repress a tremor of excitement which was causing him to tremble as if in an ague fit.

After waiting half an hour, and assuring himself that Bill was well off, Fred began an advance, working his way from bush to bush until convinced he could approach no nearer with safety.

By this time the sun had risen, and his rays falling upon the faces of the sleepers, awakened them.

Both sprang to their feet, and Gus began building the fire while his companion was busily engaged at something among the bushes – preparing food for cooking, as Fred thought.

"Then you still think we oughter leave here?" Gus said, interrogatively.

"Yes, an' the sooner the better. There's no knowin' when that feller's friends may come sneakin' around agin. We'll hurry up with the breakfast, an' start when it's over."

The boys had quite an outfit, as Fred could now see. A frying-pan, coffee-pot, tin cups, plates, and a bag well filled with provisions.

Gus acted the part of cook, and soon the odor of hot coffee was wafted in the direction of the watcher, causing him to feel the need of something to eat.

But little conversation was indulged in during the preparations for the meal. Gus' companion did not show himself until everything was ready, and then he ate hurriedly as if time was too precious to admit of talking.

"Now let's divide the load," the boy said, as he leaped to his feet and began tying the cooking utensils together. "If you'll see to the grub, I'll take care of these."

Fred gazed intently, expecting to see the money exposed to view; but no mention was made of it.

Gus shouldered the bag; his companion swung the remainder of the baggage over his shoulder, and the two started, walking rapidly around the mountain on a course which would carry them to the eastward at right angles with the railroad track.

Fred followed, remaining as far in the rear as was possible to keep them within view, and at such a distance that he could no longer overhear the conversation.

Beyond a doubt Bill was also in pursuit; but he did not show himself, and Fred fancied he was well over to the left travelling on a parallel line with the boys.

During an hour these relative positions were maintained, and then Gus threw down the bag as if to make a halt.

"Now they're going to dig up the money," Fred said to himself, and he pressed forward that he might see all which occurred.

In this he was mistaken, however. The two had simply stopped to rest, and such of the conversation as could be overheard only had reference to the location for a permanent camp, Gus insisting they were far enough away from the villages, while his companion urged that twice this distance should be covered.

"It's plain they have no idea of digging," Fred muttered. "It begins to look as if we had made a big mistake; but if that is so, what was the meaning of the talk they made last night?"

It was an enigma which he could not solve. Although believing they were on the wrong track, he did not feel at liberty to abandon the search until after consulting with Bill, and as yet no signs had been seen of that gentleman.

The halt was continued for half an hour, and then the two boys pushed on again, walking at a leisurely pace until the forenoon was well nigh spent, when they came to a full stop at the bank of a small brook.

They were now, as nearly as Fred could judge, eight or nine miles from the starting point, and that this was the end of the journey could be told by the preparations made.

From the bag a new hatchet was produced, and both set about hewing small trees and bushes with which to build a camp.

Not until this shelter was put up did Fred dare to move near enough to hear what was said, and then he found a hiding-place in the thicket twenty paces in the rear of the rude dwelling.

Even though two hours had been spent in this work, Bill did not show himself. It was possible, however, that he believed it dangerous to move about in the daytime, but would join his companion after dark.

Such conversation as the boys indulged in had no especial interest to the listener, since it referred almost entirely to the length of time they would remain in the camp.

When the day came to an end Fred had not heard anything of importance, and he resolved to advise an immediate return to Farley's when Bill should join him.

During the evening Gus and his companion appeared to be very jolly; they told stories, sang, and laughed as if there was nothing in connection with this "camping out" to be concealed, and the watcher in the bushes wondered why the miner did not come.

Half a dozen men might have walked around the encampment without being observed by the boys, and Bill's delay seemed very singular.

Fred did not dare to leave his place of concealment, and even if it had been perfectly safe to do so, he knew not in which direction to look for his friend, therefore nothing could be done save exercise patience.

The hours passed without any change in the condition of affairs. The camp-fire burned itself out. The supposed culprits retired to rest, and Fred, who had slept but a short time during the previous night, found it absolutely impossible to prevent his eyes from closing.

Lower and lower his head drooped upon his breast until slumber came, and he remained unconscious for many hours.

The glare of the sunlight aroused him after the occupants of the camp were astir, and he sprang to his feet in alarm.

The noise made by this sudden movement startled those whom he had been detailed to watch, and before Fred could collect his scattered senses both the boys were upon him.

For a single instant the three stood surveying each other, and then Gus and his companion seized the bewildered spy by the arms, rendering useless his frantic struggles to defend himself.

"Can you hold him, Tim, while I get something to tie his hands?" Gus cried, and Tim replied:

"I can take care of three or four jest like him. Get the rope outer the bag; that'll be strong enough."

With a quick movement the boy clasped Fred around the waist and held him firmly until Gus returned.

When the prisoner's hands had been lashed to his side he was led to the camp, where his legs were also bound, and the captors seated themselves in front of him.

"Now tell us where that man is?" Tim said, sternly.

"What man?"

"You know who I mean; the feller what come over to Blacktown with you an' Skip."

"I wish I knew," Fred replied with a sigh.

"Don't lie to us," and Gus shook his fist in the helpless boy's face. "That miner went to a lawyer an' told him I had a hand in stealin' the money what Sam Thorpe lost. Then you an' Skip tried to pump me. Now give us the whole yarn, or things will be mighty hot."

Fred remained silent.

"He's been follerin' us ever since we left the town," Tim said after a moment's thought, "an' it stands us in hand to get outer this lively, or the rest of his gang will be on us."

"Have we got to do more trampin' jest on account of a sneak like this?" Gus asked fretfully.

"Do you want to stay an' run the chance of bein' carried back to Blacktown?"

"Of course not; but travelin' all the time when we mighter got on the cars in the first place is more'n I bargained for."

"If you'd had your way we'd been pulled in before this. Get the stuff in shape, an' I reckon we'll fix things right now. Let him carry the load, an' we'll take the tramp kinder easy."

Gus obeyed with a very ill grace, and while he was getting the cooking utensils together Tim walked along the bank of the brook to where a flat stone lay half submerged in the water.

Fred watched his every movement as he overturned this, and dug with a pointed stick until a small, square package had been exposed to view.

There was no question in the prisoner's mind but that the wrappings of cloth covered the money Sam was accused of stealing, and now the secret had really been discovered, all else seemed trifling in comparison.

"I wonder how it happened that I didn't see that when they left the last camp?" he thought, as Tim put the bundle carefully in the inside pocket of his coat.

"So you've found out what you come for, eh?" the boy cried, angrily. "Well, it won't do any good, for when we get through with sneaks they can't do much harm. Pick up that load, an' if you don't walk lively I'll find a way to make you."

"How can I pick up anything while my legs are tied?"

Tim unfastened the ropes from Fred's ankles; loosened one of his arms, and threw the cooking utensils over his shoulder.

"Come on Gus," he said, impatiently. "We'll take turns carryin' the grub 'till we've given the slip to whoever may be follerin', and then he can tote the whole load."

Fred was faint from lack of food; but he mentally braced himself to perform the task, and Gus cried as he struck him a blow full in the face:

"Step out now, an' when we make camp to-night you'll get a taste of how we serve spies. It'll be a worse dose than the regulators ever gave you, an' don't forget it."

"There's no time for foolishness," Tim said, impatiently. "His gang may be close behind, an' we can't afford to pay him off yet a while."

With this sage remark he took up the provision bag, and led the way across the base of the hill, at right angles with the course pursued on the previous day, while Gus remained in the rear to urge the prisoner on in case he faltered.

CHAPTER XXIV

BILL'S MISHAP

Joe Brace returned to Farley's on the morning after he warned Bill and Fred of what the cashier intended to do, and went directly to Mrs. Byram's.

"I've bought the land!" he cried, exultantly. "The farmer was mighty glad of a chance to sell for five hundred dollars, an' if I'd had more time the price could have been whittled down to four. There's a mortgage of three hundred to be paid in a year, an' that'll be jest the same as nothin' after we show up what's there."

"Did you see Fred?" the widow asked, anxiously, paying but little attention to the good news.

"Met him an' Bill last night; told 'em what was up, and they'll keep shady 'till things can be fixed."

"Then nothing was accomplished by their going to Blacktown?"

Joe explained why that excursion had been a failure, and added:

"They're on the right track, so we can count on everything comin' out right before long."

"Are you intending to stay here?"

"No; I only came to tell you what had been done, an' shall go back on the train to make sure my deed is recorded. I bought in the name of Byram, Thorpe, Thomas & Brace. How does that strike you for a firm?"

"Although you and Mr. Thomas are so sure the discovery will be a source of great wealth, I can't feel much interest in it while Fred is in danger. I wish they would go to some city, rather than remain so near home."

"I shall see 'em this afternoon an' now that the business of the land is settled, will advise them to take a little pleasure trip."

"Please see to it that they do not suffer for food."

"I'll tend to everything in great shape. Have you heard whether Mr. Wright has got back?"

"He sent word that he would be home to-night."

"Then, perhaps, I'd better wait an' have another talk with him."

"No, no; I will see him myself. It is more important you care for those who are hiding in the woods."

Joe had no further time for conversation. The train by which he intended to return to Blacktown was already due and he hurried away after repeating confidently:

"I'll see'em to-night, ma'am, an' you can rest easy. They shall live on the fat of the land now we own a coal mine."

There was barely time for the miner to leap on board the cars, and as they were whirled away by the puffing engine, the constable who had arrested Sam accosted him.

"Where you bound, Joe?"

"To Blacktown," was the gruff reply. "What are you up to? Servin' warrants for that fool of a cashier?"

"Yes, I reckon that's about the size of it."

"Got one for me?"

"Of course not; what makes you talk such nonsense?"

"I heard that Bill was goin' to be 'rested, 'cause he'd tried to help Sam, an' seem's he's a mate of mine I didn't know but you'd planned to pull in the whole family."

"But now be honest, an' admit that the case looks pretty black for the two boys."

"That's all nonsense. Sam lost the money, an' it was the fault of the company, not his."

"How do you make that out?"

"Easy enough. They'd no business to send him with so much stuff. It was the cashier's duty, an' that's what makes him so sore, 'cause Mr. Wright's bound to blame such slip-shod ways of shirkin' work."

"Allowin' you're right, it don't help Sam Thorpe's case any."

"We'll see about it before the world's many days older. I ain't quite a fool, an' when I get through your precious cashier will feel sick."

After this threat Joe refused to indulge in further conversation, and the constable left him to seek more agreeable company.

The words of the officer had aroused a new train of thought in the miner's mind, he fancied the lawyer whom Bill had consulted should be informed of what had happened.

With this idea he visited the legal gentleman, immediately after the train arrived in Blacktown, and not only told him all which had happened relative to the robbery; but divulged the secret of the vein.

The knowledge that his clients were in a fair way to be rich, and, consequently, influential, caused a very decided change in the lawyer's manner, and he displayed more zeal than Joe had expected.

"We can easily get bail for your friends in case they are arrested," he said, "and in the meanwhile I will attend to the deeds. It is necessary the titles should be searched before the discovery is known by the public, and if you need any money I shall be glad to advance it."

"If the farmer can't back out of his trade, we've got all that'll be wanted yet awhile," Joe replied "but the most important thing jest now is to get Bill an' the boys out of their scrape."

"Can you find Mr. Thomas?"

"I reckon so."

"Then tell him to come here at once. Perhaps it will be well for the boy to remain in hiding a day or two longer, and I shall make it my business to ascertain what evidence there is against him."

"I'll go for Bill now," and Joe left the office, after having been again assured by the lawyer that the transfer of the property would be attended to without delay.

The miner prepared for his walk by buying a small stock of provisions, and then he set off in the direction of the mountain, believing it would be possible to find his mate with but little difficulty.

An hour's tramp brought him to the famous vein on which he had already built many air-castles; but neither Bill nor Fred could be seen.

Satisfying himself that there were no strangers in the vicinity he called them loudly by name; but without receiving any reply.

Then he trudged on around the mountain, shouting alternately for one and the other, until afar off in the distance it seemed as if an answering hail could be heard.

Now he ran with all speed in that direction, and soon he heard Bill's voice crying:

"Joe! Is it you, Joe?"

"Indeed it is, my hearty. Where are you?"

"Here in the bushes with what come mighty nigh bein' a broken leg."