The Flying Machine Boys on Secret Service

“I guess you’re right,” Ben answered, “and I don’t think we’ll have much trouble making a sneak into the cavern. The only thing about the plan that doesn’t look good to me is the fact that we must leave our machines here alone in the valley. I don’t like that!”

“Unless a grizzly bear or a wolverine should take a notion to go out on a midnight joy-ride,” Jimmie declared, “no one will disturb the machines. Of course it would be safer if we had some one here to watch them, but we haven’t, and we’ve got to do the next best thing. However, I think they’re safe enough.”

Extinguishing all the lights and emptying the store boxes of automatics, cartridges, and searchlights, the boys pushed and pulled the machines into as secluded a place as they could find and started up the slope.

It was very dark and they dare not use their electrics, so they were obliged to proceed slowly until they came to the smooth ascent which led directly to the shelf. Then, although the climbing was arduous, they proceeded more rapidly.

When they came close to the fire they saw three men standing by the blaze. DuBois was not there. The supposition, of course, was that they had stowed him away in some secure hole in the cavern from which it would not be possible for him to escape.

“It’s dollars to dill pickles,” whispered Jimmie as they softly skirted the fire and crept up the gully, “that the Englishman has been left in the charge of that old crook. If that’s the case, we ought to be able to get him without much trouble if we don’t send an avalanche of stones down this gully before we get to the top.”

The gully presented no avalanche of stones to send down. It was quite evident, even in the darkness, that the rough trail had been used enough recently to clear the way of anything which might go rolling and tumbling to the bottom. When the boys came to the mouth of the cavern they saw the crook sitting with his back against one of the walls, an automatic in his hand. He recognized them instantly as they came up, and seemed glad of their company.

It will be remembered that he had been promised immunity by Dick Sherman, the mounted policeman, and that the boys had been associated with the officers. In fact, the fellow cast an inquiring glance down the gully as the boys appeared as if he expected to see the officers following along behind them. It did not take the lads long to convince the half-drunken crook that he ought to produce the Englishman. Believing that any favors shown the boys would be appreciated by the man whom he expected to save him from a long imprisonment, Terry retired into the cavern and soon returned with DuBois.

“They’ll crack me crust when they find he’s gone!” Terry said as the boys and the Englishman started away together.

“Then perhaps you’d better come with us,” suggested DuBois. “You’ll be safer at the boys’ camp than here, I’m sure!”

The crook agreed to this and the four got away without any difficulty whatever. In an hour they were at the camp.

CHAPTER XX.

THE SECRET HIDING-PLACE

When the two machines reached the camp they found Mr. Havens very anxious over the long delay.

“I thought I had lost you all this time!” the aviator said. “I had company for a time, but he’s gone now.”

“You came very near losing me, don’t you know!” DuBois exclaimed.

“And I did lose Carl!” Jimmie confessed.

“And I came near losing the Louise!” Ben added.

“And Terry here,” Jimmie cried pushing the crook forward, “lost his stock of wet goods when he left the cave!”

Terry, who had been very nervous during the ride through the air, and who now lay sprawled out on the ground as if he never intended to leave solid earth again, gravely took two pint bottles filled with brandy from his pockets and set them out on the grass at his side. Then he rolled over and took a bottle of whiskey from another pocket. This he ranged with the others standing them all in a row so that the firelight gave their contents deep ruby tints.

“It’s a cold day when I get left for a drink!” he exclaimed, with a cunning leer, as he pointed to the three bottles.

After the boys had related their adventures they proceeded to cook supper, and while this was being consumed they discussed the situation at the camp which DuBois had deserted.

“What’s the idea of accusing you of stealing that burro?” asked Jimmie turning to the Englishman.

“That’s a beastly shame, don’t you know!” exclaimed DuBois.

“You didn’t steal the burro, of course?” asked Mr. Havens.

“Look here!” exclaimed the Englishman. “Do I look like a person who would be apt to steal a mountain burro?”

“You certainly do not!” replied the aviator.

“Of course, it’s a frame-up!” declared Jimmie.

“What’s a frame-up?” asked DuBois innocently.

“When a man’s jobbed,” answered Jimmie, “they call it a frame-up!”

This explanation was no explanation at all to the Englishman, and so the boys explained that in their opinion, the hunters were, for reasons of their own, trying to send an innocent man to prison or cause him to be lynched. When at last DuBois understood he nodded his head vigorously.

“That’s the idea, don’t you know!” he said. “It’s a frame-up, and they want to job me! I’ll remember those terms, don’t you know!”

“Why?” asked Mr. Havens. “Why should they want to job you?”

“They think I know too much!”

“If you do,” cried Jimmie, “you haven’t told it to us!”

“Besides,” DuBois continued, “this Neil Howell caught sight of me bag one day, don’t you know.”

“Now, it’s all as clear as mud!” cried Jimmie. “I know all about it now! You ran away to escape being robbed of the bag!”

“Something like that, don’t you know!”

“I guess if you hadn’t run away,” Ben put in, “you would have been dropped down a precipice some dark night!”

“Do you know,” asked DuBois innocently, “that that is just the way I figured it out?”

“Well, you figured it out right,” Mr. Havens answered.

“What will they be apt to do with Carl?” questioned Jimmie.

“They won’t be apt to injure him,” DuBois replied. “They’ll get all the information they can from the lad and turn him loose just before they get ready to leave the country.”

“You think they’ll leave the country right away?” asked Mr. Havens.

“I think they will!” was the answer.

“You remember the sick man in the stateroom?” asked Jimmie.

“I never saw him, don’t you know.”

“You suspected there was something mysterious about the manner in which he was being carried across the continent, didn’t you?”

“Indeed, I did!” was the reply.

“Did you know at that time, or have you learned since, that a post-office inspector named Colleton had been abducted from the post-office building in Washington?” continued the boy.

“I read about it in the papers at San Francisco.”

“Did you see in the newspapers in San Francisco a description of the younger man who stood in the corridor at the door of Colleton’s room?”

“I think I did!” answered DuBois.

“When you found the sporty coat, the false beard, and the dickey with the wing collar and the red tie, and the hat in the valise you bought of the porter, did that remind you of anything?”

The Englishman nodded and waited eagerly for the boy to go on.

“You knew those things were in the valise you bought before you came to our camp, didn’t you?” asked Ben.

“Indeed, I did,” was the reply, “although I tried to make you boys believe that I had then discovered them for the first time.”

“I understand,” Jimmie said, “and I think,” he went on, “that I understand your motive in telling that little white lie at that time. You wanted to see what effect the production of the articles would have on us, didn’t you? You suspected that we were here on some mission connected with the disappearance of Colleton, but you weren’t sure!”

“That’s exactly right, don’t you know.”

“And you knew that if we were on such a mission, the appearance of the articles in our camp would create a sensation!”

“Very cleverly stated, don’t you know!”

“Isn’t Jimmie the cute little Sherlocko, though?” asked Ben winking at Mr. Havens.

“I’m going to get that kid a job on the New York police force!” laughed the millionaire aviator.

“Don’t you do it!” advised Ben. “Let the boy lead a respectable life as long as he can!”

“Before you came here,” Jimmie asked turning to the Englishman, “you doubtless understood the motive of this man Howell in getting you away on the hunting trip. You understood that he wanted to keep you out of sight for a while?”

“Yes, I understood all that!”

“And now here’s the big question!” grinned Jimmie. “As the attorney for the defense says in the criminal courts, I want you to consider well before you answer. Do you know whether Colleton was brought into this country or not?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea, don’t you know!”

“You believe with us that the man who was killed in the race was the man who left the post-office building with Colleton, and that Colleton was disguised in the articles you now have in your valise?”

“I think that’s quite plain,” answered the Englishman.

“But you don’t know whether Colleton was left in San Francisco, or sent out on a voyage across the Pacific, or brought into British Columbia.”

“There has never been a hint of Colleton in the camp, so far as I know. In fact,” he went on, “the men in the camp, as a rule, are business men who know nothing about the abduction of Colleton or the motive of Howell in bringing me here. That is the reason why I say that your chum will not be injured in the camp.”

“I’m glad to know that they’re not all crooks!” Mr. Havens declared.

“At the time of the abduction of Colleton, don’t you know,” the Englishman went on, “according to the reports in the newspaper, several valuable documents were taken from his office.”

“Some very important documents,” Mr. Havens commented.

DuBois arose and walked swiftly to the tent to which he had been assigned. In a moment he reappeared with the bag in his hand. He took the articles it contained out one by one and laid them carefully on the grass. His own possessions made a small heap, but the sporty coat, the false beard, the hat, and the dickey with the wing collar and the red tie made quite a pile.

“Did we miss something on the first search?” asked Jimmie.

“You didn’t make any search at all, don’t you know,” replied the Englishman. “You didn’t look through the bag.”

The articles being all removed, he opened the mouth of the bag to its full width and drew out a false bottom. Under the bottom lay several folded papers which he proceeded to remove one by one.

“I can smell iodoform now, can’t you?” asked Jimmie.

“What do you mean by that?” demanded the Englishman.

“Didn’t they use iodoform in the private stateroom where the sick man was?”

“How did you come to know that?” asked the Englishman.

“Smell of the papers!” advised Jimmie. “They used iodoform in the stateroom, and these papers were opened and examined there! Do you begin to see daylight?”

“Do you know why they used iodoform in the stateroom?” asked Mr. Havens. “Is it possible that they wounded Colleton and found the use of the drug necessary?”

“I don’t know about that,” DuBois answered, “but I do remember now that there was a smell of iodoform whenever the man in brown opened the stateroom door.”

“Now, let’s see the papers,” Mr. Havens suggested.

Jimmie got one look at the documents as they were being passed to the aviator and jumped about four feet into the air!

“That’s pretty poor, I guess!” he shouted.

“What is it?” asked Ben.

“Looks to me like the papers stolen from Colleton’s office!”

The aviator took the papers into his hand and examined them intently for a moment. Then he turned to Jimmie with a smile.

“You’re right!” he said. “These are the papers described in my instructions! And they’re all here—every one!”

“Look here!” chuckled Jimmie. “If some guy should come down to New York some day and steal the Singer building, and you should be sent out to find it, and should get into a submarine and dive down to the bottom of the China sea, you’d find the Singer building right there waiting for us to come and get it!”

“That’s the kind of luck we’ve had in this case!” admitted Mr. Havens.

“Luck?” repeated Jimmie. “There ain’t any luck about it! We’ve just loafed around camp, and taken joy-rides in flying machines, and the other fellows have brought all the goods to us.”

“It strikes me,” Mr. Havens suggested, “that we ought to get rid of Mr. DuBois and his hand-bag just about as soon as possible. I have no doubt that the fellows over in the other camp recognized the hand-bag lost by the man in brown.”

“And that means that they’ll knock DuBois’ head off if they get a chance!” Jimmie cut in.

“It means that they’ll murder every person in this camp,” Mr. Havens continued, “rather than permit the papers in the bottom of that bag to get back to Washington. Mr. DuBois ought not to remain here another hour!”

“What’s the answer?” asked Jimmie.

“How far is it to the nearest railway point?” asked the aviator.

“Field is not more than a couple of hours’ ride away,” replied Ben.

“Let me take him there to-night and dump him on board a train for the east, bag and all!” exclaimed Jimmie.

“That’s what I was about to suggest,” Mr. Havens answered.

“But, look here!” interrupted the Englishman. “I’d rather stay and see the bloody game to the finish, don’t you know!”

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to run away,” Ben declared.

“Think it over,” the aviator suggested. “At least the bag and its contents must be taken out of the camp to-night. Mr. DuBois can go out with it if he wants to.”

It was decided that the Englishman should accompany Ben out to Field and make up his mind on the journey whether he would return to the camp.

They started away immediately, Ben promising to be back before daylight. When he returned just before sunrise DuBois was with him and he bore an astonishing piece of information.

“Here’s another extract from my dream-book!” exclaimed Jimmie.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE BOY AND THE BEAR

Carl slept little that night. The man who had given his name as Frank Harris occupied the tent with him and the two talked until a very late hour. The boy saw from the first that his inquisitor was trying to obtain all the information in his possession regarding the purpose of the Flying Machine Boys in visiting British Columbia.

It is needless to say that no mention was made of the Colleton case. Carl knew that the fellow was talking round and round the subject, but he did not see fit to swallow the bait and mention the name of the abducted post-office inspector.

Harris talked a great deal about Wall street and the chances for young boys there, and repeatedly suggested that Carl and Jimmie join his office force. The boy understood what this all meant, and did not “fall for the fly,” as Jimmie might have expressed it.

“I’d like to know how I’m ever going to get back to our camp,” Carl said, as Harris mentioned the possibility of his return the next day.

“Why,” Harris replied, in apparent amazement at the remark, “one of your friends will come after you in a flying machine, I suppose!”

“I don’t know whether they will or not!” answered Carl. “You fellows scared Jimmie away so he won’t be likely to return right off.”

“He needn’t have been afraid,” Harris laughed. “We wanted to entertain the two of you, and, besides, some of the fellows wanted to take a look at the machine!”

“And you wanted to know all about the Englishman, too, didn’t you?” chuckled Carl.

“Oh, we’ll capture the Englishman without much trouble,” Harris replied. “As I told you before, we have men out after him.”

“I should think you fellows would be afraid of the smugglers!” Carl suggested. “I’ve heard stories about smugglers being in this country!”

“What kind of smugglers?” asked Harris.

“Whiskey smugglers!”

“Oh, they’re a cheap lot!” declared Harris. “They wouldn’t dare molest a party of gentlemen out on a hunting trip!”

“Had you heard anything about smugglers being here?” asked Carl.

“Certainly not!” was the reply.

Carl chuckled to himself softly in the darkness of the tent. The red and green signals had, of course, informed him that this party of alleged gentlemen was holding communication with some one on the shelf which had been occupied by the smugglers, and also holding communication with the same signals which had been used from the smugglers’ fire.

Naturally the boy was anxious for the safety of Mr. Havens, temporarily unable to defend himself in case of attack, and his chums. When daylight came he moved out of the tent hoping to be able to get away on foot without attracting attention.

In a moment he was undeceived as to this, for a burly fellow who was rebuilding the fire motioned him back to the tent with an oath. The attitude of the guard disclosed the hostility of the whole camp, notwithstanding the insincere conversation of Harris.

After breakfast Harris beckoned to the boy and the two proceeded up the plateau to the steep ascent which led to the summit of the ridge.

There Harris paused and drawing forth a field-glass looked intently in the direction of the shelf at the foot of the gully.

“Friends over there?” asked Carl knowing very well what the man was looking for.

“Why, some of our fellows who went out in search of the Englishman may have brought up over there!” Harris replied in a hesitating way.

“Can you see any of them?” asked the boy.

“I see people moving about on the ledge over there!”

“But you can’t tell who they are?” asked Carl.

“Hardly,” was the reply. “The distance is too great.”

Harris leveled his glass at the distant ledge once more, and seeing him thus occupied the boy crept down the incline to the west of the slope, and disappeared in a narrow and rather dismal-looking opening in the cliff.

At first he passed only a yard or so into what appeared to be a rather deep cavern. He knew that his flight would be instantly discovered and had a curiosity to know which direction the pursuit would take.

Directly he heard Harris calling out:

“Hello, kid!”

Carl crept farther into the crevice.

“There’s no use in your hiding,” Carl heard the man say. “Even if you should get away now, you’d starve to death in the hills!”

Directly Carl heard footsteps scrambling down the slope, and knew that Harris was not many feet away from his hiding-place.

Had he been armed the fellow’s life might have been in danger at that time, but his automatic had been removed as soon as he had been taken to the tent. However, a small pocket electric searchlight had not been discovered when the careless search of his clothing had been made.

Harris came on grumbling and swearing, and the boy thought best to move farther back into the cavern. The chamber into which he made his way grew wider as he advanced. It seemed to be one of the caverns formed by the action of water washing out soft strata of rock.

Looking back he saw the figure of his pursuer darken the entrance, and so stumbled on blindly in the darkness, his hands brushing against one side of the cavern as he advanced.

For all the boy knew there might be breaks in the fairly level floor of the cave. He well knew that subterranean streams often cut through the floors of such caverns. To fall into such a stream meant death, but he dare not expose even the tiny light of his electric, so he kept on in the darkness, feeling his way as best he could.

Directly he heard Harris calling from the entrance, using persuasive language at first, and declaring that the boy would be immediately returned to his own camp if he gave up his mad attempt to make his way back on foot. Carl crouched closer against the wall and remained silent. He knew from the sounds coming from the entrance that Harris was creeping into the cavern. He had just decided to press on farther in spite of the danger when a blood-curdling growl and a rattling of strong claws on rocks came to his ears.

Carl declares to this day that his hair rose so swiftly at the sound of that growl that half of it was pulled out by the roots!

He had no weapon with which to defend himself, and to flash his light into the eyes of the brute would be to betray his presence to his pursuer.

Once possessed of the knowledge of his whereabouts, it would not be necessary for Harris to follow on into the cavern. He would only have to wait at the entrance for the boy to make his way out.

In a moment the boy realized that the bear was passing the spot where he stood. He could hardly believe his senses when he heard the clatter of claws on the floor and saw the black bulk of the animal obstructing the narrow shaft of light creeping in from the slope.

Before long he knew by the exclamations of alarm and the hasty pounding of feet that Harris was making his way out of the cavern. Remembering the long, narrow passage through which he had made his way before coming to the chamber, Carl followed the animal toward the entrance and, as soon as the sound of Harris’ flight had vanished, turned on his light.

The bear was in the narrow passage. His great bulk almost shut out the daylight. He gave a great snarl as Carl approached from behind and turned his head to one side, but the passage was not wide enough for him to turn around. He must either pass out and come in head first or back up to where the subterranean place widened.

For a time the bear seemed undecided as to what he ought to do. He growled fiercely at the boy, but could not reach him. He moved toward the slope occasionally, but always hesitated before pushing his nose into the daylight. From this the boy argued that Harris stood near the entrance, and the bear was afraid to attack him.

Carl took out his pocket-knife and stationed himself at the end of the narrow passage.

“He can’t eat me with his hind legs!” he grinned, “and if he tries to back I’ll give him a few slashes that will send him out into the open.”

The bear tried to back and didn’t like it. He rushed toward the entrance again snarling angrily, but, evidently sensing danger there, drew back once more.

“Drive the brute out, kid!” advised Harris from the outside.

“He’ll bite you if I do!” chuckled Carl.

“No, he won’t; I’ve got a gun ready for him!”

“You go on away,” Carl suggested, “and I’ll come out.”

“The bear will escape if I go too far away.”

“Aw, let him get away if he wants to!”

“And let you get away, too, I suppose?” suggested Harris.

“Why not?” asked Carl.

“Because we want information which we believe to be in your possession!” replied Harris.

“You pumped me dry last night!” insisted the boy.

“Come, hurry up,” advised Harris. “Give the bear a couple of pokes and drive him out! I’ll take care of him, and you, too,” he added under his breath.

The last part of the sentence was not intended to be overheard by the boy, but his quick ears caught the words. He knew that the present situation could not long continue, but was hoping all the time that some one would come to his assistance.

Men from the camp below now began gathering about the entrance to the cavern, and many observations intended to be humorous were passed to and fro as they grouped about.

“Are you coming out?” demanded Harris directly.

“No,” answered Carl.

“Then we’ll come in and get you!”

“The bear’ll bite you if you come in here!” answered Carl.

The men stood talking outside for a long time. The bear did not back up against the boy again, and so received no more wounds. The beast was, however, evidently growing more savage every moment. It seemed to Carl that he must soon rush out of the cavern and attack the men in front.

After a long time a succession of whines came from the rear, and Carl knew that the crisis was at hand. It was plain now that he had entered a bear home which was abundantly supplied with babies.

When the cubs lifted their voices in protest against the absence of their mother, the animal in the narrow passage began to back again. The men outside apparently knew what was taking place, for the opening was darkened by a sturdy figure as the animal pressed back to where Carl stood. The boy hesitated for a long time trying to decide upon the best course to pursue.