Kitabı oku: «The Motor Girls at Camp Surprise: or, The Cave in the Mountains», sayfa 10
CHAPTER XXVI – THE DROPPED BUNDLE
Walter and Paul stood beside Jack, looking at the queer mark of the automobile tire in the dust.
“It is just as Cora described it,” said Walter.
“I remember, too,” added Paul. “She spoke about it at the time, saying the man at the garage had made a poor job when he vulcanized on that patch. He didn’t know his business, that’s a fact. But still there might be other cars with that same sort of tire, Jack.”
“Of course, but this is worth taking a chance on. What do you fellows say?”
“Tell us first what you want to do,” suggested Walter.
“Follow this tire mark until we either see the car, or lose trace of it.”
“What about telephoning to Mr. Haight about permission to rip down that cement wall?”
“We can do that, too,” answered Jack to Paul. “This auto seems to be headed for town, and that’s where we’re going. If we see the men who have stolen Cora’s car, we’ll get it back for her.”
“If the men let you,” added Walter, significantly.
“Oh, we’ll get help if we have to,” said Jack. “Come on.”
For some distance it was comparatively easy to follow the automobile track by means of the prominent impression left by the patch on the tire.
“But if you can tell whether it’s going to town or coming from there, it is more than I can,” asserted Paul, “and I know something about autos.”
“Of course, I’m not sure of that part of it,” Jack admitted. “But we have to go to town anyhow, and it won’t be any harm to go by this road, on the chance of seeing Cora’s car; will it?”
“No,” agreed Walter. “Perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone that way, as well as any other.”
But the hopes of the boys were doomed to disappointment, at least in respect to getting further trace of Cora’s car, provided the tire marks were made by hers. At least it was a temporary setback. For after about half a mile there came a patch of hard oily road, in which the impression of the big Z was lost. And when next a dusty stretch was encountered, there were so many marks of automobile tires that it was impossible to distinguish any particular one.
“Baffled!” exclaimed Walter, semi-dramatically, after a back-aching inspection of the road.
“Only for a time,” added Jack, cheerfully. “After we telephone we’ll take the trail of the marks, going in the other direction. That will be back toward the cave, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some connection between the cave, the passage under the bungalow and the men in Cora’s car.”
“Some cute little detective you’re getting to be,” laughed Paul. “Well, it may be that you’re right. Go on.”
A little later the boys reached the village, and, after executing some commissions for the girls, including the purchase for Bess of a box of chocolates, they found a long distance telephone in a drug store where there was a booth to insure privacy.
It was decided that Walter should explain matters over the wire to Mr. Haight, the owner of the bungalow, and ask permission of him to batter down the stone wall that brought the secret passage to such an abrupt end.
“And while you’re about it, Wally,” suggested Jack, “ask him what the whole mysterious business means, what makes those noises, and why spirits, or humans, should have the nerve to sneak into the girls’ rooms and upset the furniture.”
“I’d need a night letter to get all that information,” Walter retorted. “You forget this is long distance telephone rates I’ll have to pay.”
“We’ll whack up on it,” suggested Paul. “Go ahead, Walter, get all the information you can.”
Walter’s stay in the telephone booth was a lengthy one. His chums only caught disconnected murmurs of his talk, but they had glimpses of his face through the glass door and there was sufficient astonishment and satisfaction depicted to whet their curiosity to the utmost.
“Whew!” Walter exclaimed as he came out. “It was some hot in there!”
“Never mind about that!” exclaimed Jack. “Can we tear down that wall?”
“Sure!” gasped Walter. “Mr. Haight was as surprised as we were to hear about it. He’s coming up to have a look.”
“Do we have to wait until then?” asked Jack, in disappointed tones.
“Not at all. He said to go right ahead.”
“And doesn’t he know anything about the queer goings on, or who upsets the furniture?” came from Paul.
“Not in the least. It’s all news to him, though he says Mr. Floyd did write a letter telling about some strange happenings. Mr. Haight didn’t pay much attention – said he couldn’t make head or tail of the letter. He intended to look into the matter when he had a chance, but now he authorizes us to do it for him.”
“And couldn’t he give even a hint as to why the sliding door was made in the floor, and who cut the passage?” asked Jack.
“No, though he said something which may prove to be a clew. He said he bought the bungalow from a man who used to be a well-known actor. This actor gave up the stage, and it was rumored that he was slightly demented before he died. Now it occurs to me that this theatrical chap may have had this sliding door made to gratify his whim for sudden and unexplained comings and goings. Perhaps to frighten his servants. Any sort of theory might explain it. That’s only a guess, but it’s as good as any.”
“It sounds reasonable,” admitted Jack. “At least the actor may have had the secret door built, but the passage, which leads to goodness knows where, looks more like the work of smugglers or a band of outlaws.”
“Perhaps it may turn out to be that before we’ve finished,” said Walter. “Anyhow, we have permission to go ahead, and the sooner we get at it, and have that wall down, the sooner we’ll know where we’re at.”
They hastened out of town, eager to begin work on the wall, and were soon on the same highway where they had seen the automobile marks.
“And this time we’ll follow them in the other direction,” said Jack. “We might as well spend a little time on this end of the game now as later, and it may be that this will fit in with the rest of the mystery.”
“Good idea,” commented Walter.
As the boys retraced their steps they took note of the fact that the mark of the big Z in the dust became plainer.
“We were wrong before,” decided Jack. “We were going in the direction from which the auto had come. Now we’re following it.”
“To its lair, I hope,” said Paul. “I’m anxious to get back to the bungalow and have a go at that wall.”
“Same here,” commented Walter.
The boys were walking along, their eyes on the ground so as not to lose sight of the marks, when Jack, raising his head, uttered a cry that attracted the attention of his companions.
“Look!” he cried, pointing down the road. “There’s Cora’s car now, and two men are in it!”
There was no doubt about it. Cora’s car was of a peculiar purple tint with maroon trimmings. It had been made especially for her, and that it was her machine was evident at a glance, especially to Paul who was in the automobile business.
“Come on!” cried Jack. “We’ve got ’em!”
But had they? The automobile had turned out of a field, against a side hill of which was built a wooden building, like a farmer’s spring-house. The men seemed to have been using it as a garage, and Cora’s automobile, occupied by two strangers, was rapidly speeding down the road.
At Jack’s cry one of the men looked around, and then the machine was speeded up, raising a cloud of dust.
“No chance of catching them!” cried Paul. “We’ve got to get another machine somewhere.”
“We can’t!” exclaimed Jack. “We’ll have to follow until we see where they go. We mustn’t lose sight of ’em now.”
It seemed a hopeless chase, and it was, practically. Jack distanced his companions, who called to him to come back so they could examine the building in the lot.
“Maybe we’ll find a clew there,” cried Walter.
And finally even Jack gave up. Human legs, even those of an ambitious youth, are no match for an automobile. But as Jack slackened his pace he saw something which caused him to run forward again. For a bundle had been dropped from Cora’s car, and the men did not stop to pick it up.
“Maybe that will prove the best clew yet,” thought Jack, as he hastened forward to pick it up.
CHAPTER XXVII – THE GIRLS’ DISCOVERY
“Why don’t they come back?”
“What keeps them so long?”
“I declare this waiting is worse than – ”
“Doing nothing,” Cora finished for Bess. “Probably the boys can’t find the kind of chocolates you ordered, pretty little plump maid, and they’re afraid to come back without them.”
“Silly,” protested Bess.
“But they are a long time,” said Hazel, she and Belle having uttered the two rather impatient sentences at the opening of this chapter.
The girls were in the bungalow, eating, not exactly bread and honey, but ice cream and cake, which Mrs. Floyd had made. And they were talking of the absence of Jack and his chums, who had gone to town to telephone to Mr. Haight.
It was now lunch time and the girls, after waiting in vain for the boys, had eaten, and were enjoying their dessert. Or rather, they were trying to enjoy it under the rather unappetizing influence of impatient worry.
“If they don’t come back pretty soon I’m going down there myself and see if we can discover anything,” Cora declared.
“Down where?” asked Belle.
“In the passage, of course. I want to see if we can find where that queer noise came from.”
“And who upset the furniture,” added Bess.
“Well, we’re on the track of it,” said Hazel. “We are pretty certain, now, that whoever did it came up through that sliding door, and went down the same way. That accounts for our never seeing any one enter or leave the bungalow after the manifestations, and that’s why, after the boys ran over so promptly the time we saw the dancing light, they couldn’t find any one. Whoever it was just slipped down through the secret passage, pulled the section of flooring back into place, and there was no trace.”
“But where did they go after they got down in the passage?” asked Belle. “They couldn’t stay there all the while, and there’s no sign of any one there now, unless they’re invisible. They couldn’t get past the blocking cement wall.”
“There’s something beyond that wall, and we’re going to find it!” declared Cora.
“Perhaps when the boys come back they won’t have permission to tear it down,” suggested Bess.
“Then we’ll begin our investigations from the other end,” Cora said.
“What other end?” Hazel questioned.
“The cave! I think this passage connects with the cave. That would explain a hiding place for whoever has been playing these tricks on us, and making that strange noise.”
“You mean the cave you accidentally discovered yesterday?” asked Belle.
“Yes,” Cora answered. “I’m sure that has something to do with the mystery. So if Mr. Haight won’t let us open the wall, we may be able to see what is on the other side by going to the cave, and finding the passage that connects with the one which comes out into our bungalow.”
“In that event the stone wall must be movable,” suggested Hazel.
Cora jumped up so suddenly that she disturbed Bess who was leaning against her.
“That’s it! That’s it!” Cora cried. “I wonder we didn’t think of it before. That surely is it!”
“What is?” eagerly demanded Belle. “You are talking in riddles.”
“This whole affair is a riddle, girls!” exclaimed Cora. “But what Hazel said gave me an idea. That cement wall seems solid, but it can’t be. If it were no one could pass. So it must be made to look solid to deceive those not in the secret. Probably it is a balanced stone like the ones you read of in stories of the cave dwellers. Some of them closed the entrances to their caves by heavy rocks, set on pivots, turning when you pressed on a certain mechanism. There are counterweights, just as in a window, which makes the heaviest rock move easily. I’m sure that’s what is in the passage – a balanced rock doorway. And there won’t be any need of tearing the wall down at all!”
“It sounds like a detective story,” commented Bess.
“It may turn out to be one before we’re through,” Cora said.
“Oh, dear! Why don’t those boys hurry back?” cried Belle for perhaps the tenth time. “Let’s go out and look down the road to see if they are coming.”
The girls went out, too anxious and too eager to sit still, but they had no sight of Jack and his chums.
“I’m not going to wait any longer!” exclaimed Cora at length. “If I’m right, there will be no need of tearing down the wall. That is, if I can find the mechanism that turns the rocky door. And if I’m wrong, there won’t be any harm in doing it.”
“Doing what?” asked Bess.
“Going down into the passage to see what we can discover. Will you come?”
“I will!” exclaimed Hazel.
“Then we will, too, Belle,” said Bess, quickly. “They shan’t call us cowards, even if we are twins.”
“Come on,” cried Cora gaily. “We must do something or fly to pieces with nerves. Anything is better than sitting still, waiting.”
Back to the bungalow the girls hastened. The hole in the floor was still open, the sliding door having been braced back so it could not be closed by any accident.
“We don’t want to go down there and not be able to get up again,” Cora remarked.
“Shall we tell Mrs. Floyd we’re going to see what we can find?” suggested Belle.
“No,” decided Cora, after a moment’s thought. “She might not want us to until we have Mr. Haight’s permission. We’ll just do this on our own responsibility. We won’t damage the wall any.”
Down the cement steps went the four girls, into the dark passage. The boys had left behind their flashlights and these were carried by Cora and Hazel. The small, but powerful lamps gave a good light.
“Ugh! It’s rather creepy in here,” complained Belle, looking back over her shoulder.
“Don’t be silly!” said Cora, sharply. “Just think of it! We may solve the mystery all by ourselves.”
“Let us hope so,” murmured Bess.
They came to the cement wall that barred further progress along the passage.
“First to see if it’s solid rock,” Cora suggested.
“How?” asked Belle.
“By tapping. I brought along a hammer.” With this implement Cora gave several blows against the obstruction. An unmistakable hollow sound resulted.
“I believe it’s only a wooden door, covered over with cement stucco,” Cora said. “Now to find the secret catch.”
With their flash lamps the girls went over every inch of the surface of the door. At first it all looked alike, dull, gray, smooth cement. Then Cora’s light lingered a moment on a certain place.
“Girls, watch!” she said suddenly.
With her thumb she pressed on the spot where it seemed the cement was worn smoother than elsewhere. And then, to the surprise of even Cora herself, the cement door swung slowly back, revealing a dark passage beyond.
“We’ve discovered it!” cried Cora. “No need to tear the door down. Just as I suspected, it’s on hinges. Come on, girls!”
Hardly realizing what they were doing, the others followed, their torches illuminating the plank sides of the underground tunnel.
“Are you sure this is all right, Cora?” asked Belle, as she stepped beyond the open door.
“I’m not sure anything is right about all this mystery,” was the answer, “but this is a chance we mustn’t miss. Come on.”
“But where are we going?” Belle queried.
“I can’t tell, but I think to the cave,” Cora answered. “Don’t be afraid. There’s no danger.”
Hardly had she spoken than a noise sounded behind them.
“Oh! what’s that?” cried Belle, rushing forward.
“It sounded like a door closing,” said Hazel.
She flashed her light back on the way they had come, and as she did so she cried:
“It was the door. It has swung shut, girls! We’re trapped!”
CHAPTER XXVIII – PRISONERS
Walter and Paul stood close beside Jack Kimball, as he turned over the package which had dropped from the automobile – Cora’s automobile, to be exact.
“What is it?” asked Walter.
“Just what I’m going to find out,” answered Jack. “Feels like a package of money, if I’m any judge.”
“Whew!” whistled Paul. “Counterfeiters, do you think?”
“I’m not so rash as to do any thinking after the queer things that have been happening,” retorted Jack. “I’m going to make sure before I do any guessing. Here goes!”
He cut the string of the packet. It was well wrapped in stout brown paper, and when Jack, sitting down on a wayside stone and resting the bundle on his knees, had folded back the covering, there was revealed to the boys bundles of tickets tied in little packets.
“What in the world is this?” asked Paul, picking up one of the little packages. “Tickets?”
“Railroad and theatrical,” added Walter, as he examined some more closely. “Say, this is a queer find!”
Jack whistled shrilly and then cried out:
“It fits in! It all fits in!”
“What does he mean?” asked Paul.
“I don’t know,” Walter answered. “Tell us, Jack. Can you see through the puzzle?”
“Part of it. Don’t you see? These tickets – some railroad and the others for theatres and opera houses – they’re counterfeit – bogus – no good! They’re just like those that girl in the Spinning Wheel tea room bought. Don’t you remember, she purchased two of a couple of young fellows. It was thought at the time they might have been the ones who went off with Cora’s auto. Now we reverse the process. We find the bundle of tickets that dropped out of Cora’s car, and we see two men running away in it. They’re the same ones, or in the same gang, I haven’t a doubt. It’s up to us to get after them.”
“You seem to have struck it,” commented Walter. “Do you mean these men have gone into the business of counterfeiting tickets on as big a scale as this?”
“I’m thinking that,” Jack answered. “You see it wouldn’t pay to print a few tickets. They’d have to make a whole lot of them, and in the case of theatrical coupons, sell them quickly, for the fraud would soon be discovered. Railroad tickets might take a little longer to prove invalid, for they would have to go to the head offices, and there the railroad men could tell by the consecutive numbers that there was duplication somewhere. And the tickets would have to be pretty well distributed – only a few in each city.”
“That’s what they wanted of Cora’s auto,” suggested Paul. “They wanted to cover a big area.”
“Yes,” Jack went on. “And they probably have accomplices in many places. Once the tickets were printed, they had to distribute them over a wide territory. Boys, I think we’ve discovered a daring band of ticket-counterfeiters.”
“But where do they do their work – their printing?” asked Walter.
“Why not in the cave?” asked Jack. “It would be the most natural place around here.”
“What’s the matter with looking in that shack where the auto came from?” asked Paul, nodding back toward the field against a hill in which the shed was built.
“I was going to suggest that,” Jack went on. “Perhaps that is another entrance to the same cave Cora found. Come on, we’ll have a look, anyhow. We’ve got this for evidence, in any case,” and he held up the bundle of tickets.
“Are you sure they are bogus?” asked Paul.
“Well, not positive, of course,” Jack said. “But you’d hardly find so many kinds of railroad and theatrical tickets, the latter for a number of different cities, all in one bundle unless something were wrong. I put these fellows down as counterfeiters of tickets, and you’ll see I’m right.”
“Well, we’ll take a chance,” decided Walter. “Now what are we going to do about getting Cora’s car back?”
“We can’t do much right away,” said Jack. “But those fellows will come back, I’m sure. Let’s explore a bit in that shack, and then we’ll go and rip out that door in the secret passage.”
The doors of the shack which stood against the hill in the big field were fastened with a cheap padlock, and Jack, after a moment of hesitation, smashed it with a stone.
“Come on in, boys!” he called, swinging back the doors.
“It’s as dark as pitch,” complained Walter. “Did any of you bring your flash lamps?”
“Left ’em at the bungalow,” Paul answered. “I have some matches though.”
By the glimmer of one he struck, the boys saw that the shack was a sort of vestibule to a cave, for a big hole extended under the side of the hill.
“Jack was right!” Walter exclaimed. “This is a cavern, and it looks to be a good-sized one. I wish we had a light.”
“Here’s a lantern,” said Paul, who had lighted another match. “We’ll explore a bit.”
By the greater light of the lantern, which was found near the doors, the boys saw that the cave was indeed a large one, extending well back under the hill. They went in cautiously at first, not knowing what they might find, or what hidden pitfalls might lie in their path.
“Look!” exclaimed Jack, pointing to several boxes lying about. “They must have been doing, or else are getting ready to do, lots of business. Those boxes contain paper and cardboard by the looks and marks on them. And now – ”
“Hark!” exclaimed Paul in a whisper. They all listened. From somewhere far back in the cave came a dull, rumbling, vibrating noise, and the ground faintly trembled.
“There it is again!” said Walter – “that strange noise. Now we’ll find out what it is. Come on.”
He started forward, the others following, Paul in the rear with the lantern, for it had a reflector on and gave better light when carried behind the boys.
“Wait a minute!” cautioned Jack. “I don’t seem to hear that noise now. It’s stopped.”
“So it has,” concurred Paul.
They listened intently, then Jack said:
“I hear another sound, though. It’s behind us, toward the mouth of the cave. Boys, it’s those fellows coming back. Out with that light, Paul. We’ll hide in here and surprise them. Quick! Down behind some of these boxes!”
Paul extinguished the lantern, and he and his companions sought places of concealment. They could now plainly hear footsteps approaching, while they also distinguished the murmur of excited voices.
Meanwhile, another part of the strange mystery was being enacted with the girls as principal characters. They had entered farther into the secret passage, beyond the queer swinging door which had closed after them.
“We’re caught!” cried Belle. “Oh, Cora!”
“Perhaps not,” said Jack’s sister. “If that door opened once for us it will do it again. But don’t go back. Come on. We must see what is ahead of us. The boys will laugh if they hear we turned back when we had such a good opportunity.”
“Well, they shan’t laugh at me!” declared Hazel. “I’m with you, Cora.”
“And you may be sure we’re not going to be left alone,” cried Bess. “Come on, Belle!”
The latter hesitated a moment, looked back at the closed door, and then went forward. Their lamps made the place fairly light, and they could see that the passage was planked here as it had been nearer the bungalow.
They had gone on perhaps fifty paces more and were wondering when the queer tunnel would come to an end, when Cora, who was walking in advance with Hazel, put her hand on her companion’s arm, and cried:
“Do you hear it?”
“Hear what?”
“That strange, rumbling, trembling noise. Don’t you feel it?”
“Yes! Yes!” cried Belle. “Oh, what is it?”
There was no doubt of the noise. It seemed to fill the whole passage with a dull, rumbling roar, and the ground vibrated and trembled.
“Come on!” cried Cora, resolutely. “It’s just ahead of us. We will solve the mystery now!”
Willing or unwilling, Belle, Bess and Hazel followed their leader. With their electric lights showing the way the girls pressed forward. Suddenly the passage turned, and, making that turn, the girls came upon a strange sight.
Before them was an open door, which gave entrance to a large cave with rocky sides and roof. Vaulted and large the cave was, and from long wires fastened somewhere in the roof hung a number of incandescent lights. In the cave the girls saw several queer machines, and Cora, at least, recognized more than one of them as printing presses. A gasoline engine was throbbing away in one corner, and it was this, Cora decided, which made the rumbling, the throbbing and trembling vibrations.
Hardly realizing what they were doing, the girls walked forward, and, passing through the open door, entered the cave which widened out at the end of the secret passage.
“What – what does it all mean?” asked Bess.
Low as her voice was it seemed to awaken strange echoes in the vaulted cave. And at the sound of it something stirred in one corner. From a pile of boxes something arose – a something that resolved itself into an old man with white hair and a long, white beard. He peered from beneath his bushy white eyebrows, with piercing eyes at the startled girls, and from his throat came a guttural cry.
“Ah, ha! Police spies – four of ’em!” he snarled. “I thought we’d be found out!”
With surprising quickness in one seemingly so aged the man slipped behind the girls. They turned, fearing an attack, but they need have had no alarm on that score. With a quick motion the old man closed and locked the door through which they had come.
“Now you’re here – you’ll stay!” he rasped out. “On guard here, Bombee! Hist! Watch ’em!”
And, as he called, a raw-boned, half-witted boy shuffled forward, and squatted, with a horrible grin, in front of the terrified girl prisoners.
