The Motor Girls at Camp Surprise: or, The Cave in the Mountains

“We can’t wait. Look out for yourself,” one man flung back unfeelingly over his shoulder. “It’s every one for himself.”

“Ah! desert me, would you!” cried the old man, shaking his fist at the fleeing ones. “But I’ll get even with you. Old Jason will get even! I’ll let the girls out of the cave, and tell them the whole story! I’ll let the girls out of the secret room in the cave!”

Jack had been in two minds whether to advance and speak to the old man, or follow the fleeing ones, but as he heard these words he knew something else now called for his attention.

“The girls in the cave!” he murmured. “It must be Cora and the others he means. They must have gone into the cave while we were in town. I’ve got to rescue them. Let the men go! I must help the girls.”

Catching up his lantern, Jack dashed back into the dark cavern.

“I’m coming, girls! I’m coming!” he cried. “To the rescue!”

CHAPTER XXX – ALL’S WELL

Walter and Paul, hurrying to aid Jack, whom they had left in the cave, came in sight of the shack just as the old man and his helper were turning back into it. The two boys did not glimpse the three fleeing men who had by this time disappeared among the trees.

“Look – look at that!” gasped Paul, rubbing his eyes. “Am I dreaming, Wally, or is that an ape or a human being?”

“It’s real enough – some sort of a crazy chap, I should say. But what’s he doing?”

“Calling down the vengeance of heaven, I guess,” observed Paul, for they saw the old man shaking his fist in the air.

“Hurry up and we’ll speak to him,” urged Walter. “Somehow I think he’s part of the mystery.”

They reached the old man just as he was turning back into the shack. He did not seem greatly surprised to see them.

“Will that – er – fellow hurt us?” asked Walter.

“Not unless I tell him to. Are you the police?”

“No, but we can get them if you wish,” said Walter. “We are after the ticket counterfeiters,” he added shrewdly. “We have recovered the stolen auto, and a lot of the stuff is in our possession. Now if you – ”

“Yes, I’ll give up. I’m too old to run away. They deserted me, and I’ll tell all I know. I’m getting tired of it anyhow. Being a criminal doesn’t pay. I’ll give up. Come on back and I’ll let out the girls. I’m sorry I locked them in, but I thought there was a chance to escape. I didn’t hurt them.”

“Girls! What girls?” gasped Walter.

“Well, I guess likely they’re of your party – from the bungalow,” said the old man, from whom all the spirit of rage and fighting seemed to have gone. “They’re in the secret room of the cave. Come on, Bombee, we’ll let them out.”

Wondering what it all meant, Walter and Paul followed the old man back into the cave. He seemed to know his way in the dark, though Walter had brought an extra flashlight from the bungalow, and now switched this on.

A little later the two boys, with the old man and the half-witted helper, entered the main cave where they found Jack running about half wild with excitement. He was shouting, and muffled cries – the voices of the girls – came in answer.

“Jack! You here!” cried Walter.

“Yes, and the girls are here too, but I can’t locate them, though I can hear them. They’re locked in some secret room. We must find it.”

“I’ll let them out,” said the old man. “I locked them in. Hi, Bombee, open the door.”

Once more the powerful helper took up the wooden club, or lever. He inserted it in the opening and the plank door, which could not, at first glance, be told from part of the cave sheathing, swung open. Then, tearful and disheveled from their efforts to escape, out rushed the girls.

“Oh Jack!”

“Oh Paul!”

“Oh Walter!”

Thus they gasped, the two girls seeking refuge in their brothers’ arms, while Belle and Bess clung to one another.

“Oh, that horrible man!” gasped Belle.

“Bombee won’t hurt you,” said the old man, humbly. “And I ask your pardon. I had to do what I thought best, but it is all over now. I give up!”

“Let’s get out of this terrible place,” begged Cora.

“Come on, then,” returned Jack. “Why, it’s a regular underground printing shop,” he added as he looked around. “Here’s where they made the counterfeit tickets.”

“Yes, this is the place,” confessed the old man. “You have found our secret.”

Walter and Paul started to go out of the cave the way they had come in.

“There is a shorter way,” said the old man. “It leads to your bungalow.”

“But that door is shut,” said Cora. “It shut after us.”

“Bombee can open it,” was his reply. “He knows the secret as well as I. Come. It opens easily.”

He led the way back along the passage through which Cora and her chums had lately come, first unlocking the door which he had closed after them. When they came to the cement obstruction, the helper pressed on a certain place, and it swung to one side. A little later the entire party was in the bungalow, to the great surprise of Mr. and Mrs. Floyd. The caretakers looked in astonishment at the old man and his assistant.

“Well, now let’s have some explanations,” suggested Walter.

“Did you get the auto?” asked Jack.

“Yes, and a whole lot of tickets and other stuff,” Paul said.

“My auto?” asked Cora.

“Yes, we have it back for you,” answered Walter. “And before we lose any more time we had better get the police after those three men.”

“I’ll go into town,” offered Mr. Floyd. “And about him?” he nodded to the man the counterfeiters had called Jason.

“Oh, I’ll give myself up,” the old man said. “Old Jason is tired of the game. Lock me up whenever you wish,” he seemed very tired and weary. “I won’t run away. I’ll stay with Bombee.”

A little later the authorities took charge of matters, entering the cave and taking possession of a very complete though small printing plant, and numberless bogus tickets. Constables were sent to look for the three men. The old man was arrested and taken to jail, and Bombee, his son, who would not be separated from him, went with him. But before Jason was taken away, he told enough to make the mystery clear.

He was an expert printer, it seemed, and had fallen in with a band of men who planned to flood the country with bogus railroad and theatrical tickets. They had set up their plant in the cave, the existence of which they had learned by accident and kept secret.

There were three entrances to the cave. One was in the side of the hill, where the men had put up a shack in order to conceal the opening. The second was the one discovered by accident by Cora. This was not used, being too small. And the third was through the bungalow and the passage.

This passage, the secret sliding door in the floor, and the cement door that blocked the passage (it developed later) had been constructed by the actor who formerly owned the bungalow. Just what his object was no one knew, but his unbalanced mind probably built a romance about the great dark hole. The cave was then used for nothing, but it admirably suited the purposes of the ticket men who fitted it up as they wished.

To it they brought their machinery and began issuing tickets, Jason, aided by the half-witted Bombee, doing the printing, while the others distributed the product. It was the rumble and clank of the gasoline engine and presses that made the queer trembling sounds heard by the girls and boys. The rocky cave acted as a sort of telephone, or sound box, and sometimes the noises would be louder than others. The fact that the engine stood on a strata of rock upon which the bungalow was constructed accounted for the trembling and vibration of the building.

“We did the printing when you folks were away from the bungalow at most times,” said old Jason. “We found out when you were gone by means of the secret passage. But sometimes we had to work on a rush order when you were on hand.”

“Then is when we heard the noise,” said Jack.

“But who upset the furniture, and took our things?” asked Cora.

“Oh, that was Bombee,” said the old man. “I could not always watch him, and he would slip away, open the secret door of the passage and get up into the bungalow through the floor. He is very mischievous, but gentle. He likes to upset chairs and tables. He used to do that trick, among others, in a theatre where he used to show as a human ape. He didn’t look unlike an ape, you see.”

“He took your ribbons and things, too. They are in the cave. I thought they came from your bungalow, but I did not dare return them. Once he brought in a flashlight.”

“That was the time we saw the queer, dancing beams upstairs and down,” said Hazel.

Before our friends had occupied the bungalow, Bombee had been up to his tricks. He had upset the furniture, giving rise to the strange stories about Camp Surprise, and he it was who had taken the silver, having a love of bright things. He would slip out of the cave, open the passage door (having seen Jason operate the mechanism), get into the bungalow by means of the opening in the floor, upset the furniture and then run out through the passage again, closing the doors after him, so there was nothing to show how any intruder had gotten in and out.

It was learned that the time the boys and girls saw the two men at the tumbled-down old house, that the counterfeiters had gone there to meet some persons to whom they gave bogus tickets to dispose of. The men probably realized that our friends were on their trail and fled. The taking of Cora’s car had been done on the spur of the moment, the need of some means of getting quickly about the country to dispose of the tickets being pressing.

The crash heard in the night, which caused the floor to be taken up, was caused by one of the men dropping a box of tickets. He was storing it in the passage near the secret door. Occasionally, when the bungalow was not occupied, the men used it, and it was in this way that the big, half-witted youth learned to find his way there.

“Well, I guess that ends the surprises of this camp,” said Cora, as the officers took Jason away. “Now we can enjoy our stay here.”

And the surprises were indeed over. The secret door in the floor was closed, and fastened, the mechanism having been broken. After the printing apparatus had been taken out our boys and girls, and many others inspected the cave. It was a large and curious place, and the criminals had made it their living and hiding place for some time.

Though a diligent effort was made to capture the three men, they were not apprehended, and in view of his confession Jason was given only a light sentence.

Cora’s recovered car was put in good order and used some, though the mountain roads were not very good for automobile riding.

“And now for some glorious times!” cried Bess one day, about a week after the mystery had been cleared up. “Boys, we’ll give you – ”

“A big chicken dinner!” interrupted Jack. “That’s what we want.”

“Well, you deserve it,” said Cora, “for the clever way you laid your plans.”

“You girls were a bit clever too, getting into the cave by the secret door while we were off in town telephoning,” said Walter. “We give you the credit for that.”

“Everything came out all right all around,” remarked Hazel. “But, oh! we were scared stiff for a while.”

“I should say so!” ejaculated Belle. “That horrible old man and his awful son!”

“Well, all’s well that ends well,” said Bess. “And I have a whole box of chocolates to go with the chicken dinner.”

“Marvelous – a whole box!” echoed Cora. “How did she ever manage it, girls?”

The chicken dinner was voted a great success. By this time the summer season was in full swing, and many cottages and bungalows in Mountain View were occupied. Cora and her friends entered with zest into the jolly life, and they were the recipients of much attention, for the story of Camp Surprise had been told in many papers.

“But it’s nicer not to hear queer noises and see strange lights,” said Cora. “And it’s a relief to come in and find the furniture the way you left it.” And the others agreed with her.

“Will we ever have another time like this?” asked Belle.

“Perhaps. Who knows?” returned Cora. And leaving that question to be settled later we will say good-bye to the Motor Girls.

THE END