CHAPTER XV

SPANISH JOE DROPS A CLUE

"Where can he be, Frank?" cried Bob, after they had been climbing for several minutes up the side of the rough mountain, almost groping their way, such was the darkness around them.

"Listen!"

"Help! Nick, this way, quick, or I'll go under!" came a shrill shout, only a little way above them.

They started for the spot; but before they had taken half a dozen steps once more the thunderous sound was heard; and under them the mountain quivered. As the boys were not more than human, it was only natural that they should halt until the convulsion had passed. Bob could not help clutching a spur of rock as though he feared that something dreadful was about to happen.

As the roaring noise began to die out the boys caught the cries of Spanish Joe once again. He seemed to be nearly frantic with fear, and was calling upon his cowboy crony not to forsake him in his extremity.

"It's going to tumble on me the next shake! Hurry, Nick, or I'm a goner!" they heard him pleading.

"Whatever can have happened to him?" asked Bob, awed by the exciting incidents by which they seemed to be surrounded.

"I reckon he's caught in some sort of trap, judging from his talk," Frank sent back over his shoulder; for both of them were climbing upward as rapidly as the conditions allowed.

It was no wonderful feat for Frank to make straight for the spot where the loud voice came from. He had located it; and even when Joe ceased calling for a minute or two, Frank was able to continue right on.

Apparently the cowman had heard some sound that told him of their coming. That accounted for his silence, since he was listening eagerly. And of course he fully expected that it must be Nick Jennings hastening to his assistance, perhaps with Peg at his heels. At least his words would indicate as much, when he cried again.

"Hurry, boys! There ain't any too much time. This way, right straight ahead! Oh! I'm in a hole, I tell ye. Ye ain't stopping, are ye? Come on! come on!"

They were now close to where the speaker must be located. Frank was already straining his eyes to make out his figure, so as to get some idea as to the nature of the new task that confronted them.

He presently could make out some object that squirmed and tugged between groans.

Then he knew that his first guess was probably correct. Spanish Joe, in making his way along over the rocks, had in some way managed to catch his foot in a crack, and was unable to get it out again. Perhaps the more he struggled the firmer it became fastened. And, considering the surroundings, his fright could hardly be wondered at.

So Frank crept up alongside the prisoner of the rock.

"It's my leg, Nick," cried the man, eagerly. "I can't get it loose and I've twisted and pulled till it's near jerked out of the socket. See if ye can't do somethin'. Every time she shakes, that rock up there just starts to drop down on me! If it comes I'll be smashed."

Frank knew Spanish Joe. The man from across the Rio Grande had worked on the Circle Ranch for many months, until he was discharged after being caught in the suspicious business of conveying information to the cattle rustlers.

"Wait 'till I strike a match, so I can see what things look like," Frank said.

And as the match suddenly flared up the dark-faced Spanish-American stared with astonishment into the countenance of the one who had come in answer to his frantic calls for assistance.

"You, Senor Frank?" he exclaimed.

"Sure," replied the rancher's son, as he bent over to examine the way in which the prisoner's foot had become caught.

Although the match only shone for a few seconds, Frank's quick eyes had sized up the situation.

"How is it, Senor Frank; can you get me out, camerado?" asked Joe, with a quiver in his voice.

Something of a desperado the man might be under ordinary conditions; but just then, when facing death, he proved very tame indeed.

"I reckon I can, Joe, if that tottering rock up there only holds off long enough. Let's hope it will. Now, do just what I tell you; and when I say pull, again, get busy for all you're worth!"

While Frank was talking he had been manipulating the foot of the Mexican, who had worked so long on American ranches that he had lost much of his national ways, though retaining a few of the characteristics of dress that always distinguish his kind.

Frank himself was not wasting time. He did not like the looks of that over-hanging rock any too well. It seemed to be about ready to crash down, and when it did come the result would be disastrous to anything human caught underneath; for it surely weighed many tons.

"Now, draw easily at first, and then increase gradually," Frank said. "I'll hold onto the foot, and keep it in this position. I think that's the way it first slipped into the crack!"

Spanish Joe eagerly obeyed. He groaned several times as he felt his leg hurt, but desperation lent him new determination; for if this attempt failed, as others had done, he believed that he was doomed.

Suddenly the foot came free. Joe fell over on the ground, but his last groan turned into a cry of delight. It was almost comical to see how quickly he rolled over several times, so as to get away from the danger zone.

Frank, turning, clutched his companion, and also drew him back. It was none too soon, it seemed. As if the release of Spanish Joe might have been the signal for the groaning mountain to once again take up its strange action, they felt the quiver with which all the performances. seemed to begin. Then the grumble commenced, rapidly advancing into a fearful stage, until Bob could feel himself trembling violently because the rocks under him were moving.

"There she comes!" cried Frank.

His words were drowned in a deafening crash close by. Had Peg Grant been there he must have believed that the top of the mountain had blown off, and that fire and boiling lava would immediately begin to pour down the sides. But Bob had not forgotten about that swaying rock. And he understood that it had fallen with a crash just at the spot where the three of them stood a minute before.

"What a narrow escape!" exclaimed Frank, after the clamor had in some measure died away again.

"Oh! I should say it was," echoed Bob, feeling quite weak as he realized what must have happened to them had they not gotten away in time.

"How about your leg, Joe; can you walk?" asked Frank, turning to the cowman, who was scrambling to his feet close by.

"Seems like I can, Senor Frank. But it was a close call for Spanish Joe. Only for you coming, where would I be right now? Let us get away from here!" exclaimed the man, limping around as he tried his crippled limb.

"You are free to go, if you want, Joe," remarked Frank; "but Bob and myself mean to stick it out. We came here to learn the cause of all this racket, and we'll do it, or know the reason why."

"Excuse me, companero, I know when I have had enough. This mountain is surely bewitched. There must be an evil spirit living inside. Do I not know it? And even the door is guarded by demons that spring at a man and tear him. My clothes, once so handsome, Senors, are torn into tatters, just because Joe, he was fool enough to step into that black opening above!"

Frank started as he heard the Mexican say this. It seemed to him that possibly here was a clue worth following up.

"Tell us what you mean, Joe," he asked, quickly. "What black opening did you try to enter; and what happened to you, amigo? We have done you a service, saved your life, perhaps. In return, tell us this."

"It is little enough, Senor Frank. Up above, not more than seventy feet from here, lies a hole in the ground. I was looking for shelter from the storm, because Senor Peg wished it. I entered. Hardly had I taken ten steps than something flew at me. I think it was a demon, for it had sharp claws, and I thought I could smell brimstone and sulphur. Just then the mountain yawned, and what with the terrible noise, and having to fight off that unseen enemy, I climbed out of there fast, but with all my fine clothes ruined. That was why I came down the side of the mountain in such haste that I caught my foot. I thought that fury was chasing me. Nothing in this wide world could tempt Spanish Joe to go back there. The storm, it is a joke besides that terror of the darkness!"

If he expected to alarm Frank, the Mexican cowman mistook the character of the boy. Frank believed that the fellow's fears had made him imagine more than half of what he declared had happened to him.

"Well, we leave you here, then, Joe," the boy remarked, sturdily; "because we're going to find that cave, and see what lies inside it. If you want to come along, all right; if not adios!"

He turned and started to climb, Bob tagging at his heels. But Spanish Joe could not bring himself to accept the invitation. He looked after the disappearing figures of the two saddle boys, and shook his head.

"No, not for Joe," he muttered. "He knows when he has had enough. Money could not drive him to enter there again, and meet that unseen thing. Out here the danger can be understood, but Joe he takes off his hat to the young Senors; for grit they surely possess. Adios, Senor Frank; but I doubt much whether we ever meet again."

But staunch of heart, Frank was leading the way upward, determined to accept of the challenge which the cowboy's due seemed to throw at his feet.



CHAPTER XVI

THE VENT HOLE IN THE WALL

The way grew rougher with every yard they traversed. How Spanish Joe had come dashing down over this ground at headlong speed without breaking his neck was a puzzle.

Frank was feeling his way along carefully when he heard Bob call his name. The rattle of falling shale at the same time gave him a pretty strong suspicion as to what had happened.

"Hello! what's the matter Bob?" he cried.

"I slipped, and fell over the edge of some sort of place here," came back the answer. "Luckily I've managed to get hold of a rock and stopped my tumble. But don't waste any time lending me a hand, Frank, because it seems to me I feel the thing move. If another quake comes it'll let me drop; and perhaps the ground may be a full dozen feet below."

By this time Frank had reached the edge of the drop. He remembered skirting it in climbing upward just a minute before; but had been more successful about doing so than Bob, who was less accustomed to this kind of work.

Frank again had recourse to his handy match-safe. Leaning over he struck a match on the face of the rock. Immediately he drew a quick breath. It was not because he could see the face of his chum only a couple of feet away, as the latter clung to a spur of rocks; it was something else that thrilled him.

As far down as his eyes could see there was only a black void! Instead of the simple dozen feet mentioned by Bob, the yawning precipice extended perhaps a full hundred feet downward!

But there was no need of telling Bob that it might alarm the boy and cause him to weaken, so that his grip would give way.

Frank was quick to understand what must be done. He could just touch the hand of his chum by bending far down; but that was not enough. Instantly he wrapped one leg about a sturdy, if dwarfed, little cedar that chanced to grow at that very spot, as if designed for the very purpose to which he was putting it. Then he was able to thrust himself still further down the face of the wall.

"Take hold, and grip like iron, Bob," he managed to say.

He felt the other obeying him, and thus they caught hold of hands.

"Now, try and dig your toes into the face of the wall if you can," Frank went on, calmly, so far as Bob could know. "It'll help me get you up. Climb over me. I've got a leg around a cedar, and nothing can break away. Now!"

"Say, perhaps you'd better let me drop down." said Bob, thinking his comrade was going to unnecessary trouble in order to save him from a little jolt.

"Climb, I tell you!" snapped Frank.

"Oh! all right, Frank, if you say so," and Bob started to obey.

Fortunately he was an agile lad, and a very fair climber, for the task which he had set himself was no ordinary one. But, by wriggling more or less, Bob managed to finally get a grip on the cedar. After that it was easy work; and having succeeded in reaching solid ground himself, he aided the almost exhausted Frank to draw back.

"Whew! that was some work, now, and all because I was so silly as to slip over the edge of that little hole!" remarked Bob, as though disgusted with himself.

"Look here," said his chum; "lean over carefully, while I drop this match down."

As he struck the match, and then cast it from him it went downward twenty, thirty, forty feet before it was extinguished.

"Ugh!" shuddered Bob, "why, it must be all of a thousand feet down to the bottom, Frank! It scares me just to think of the narrow escape I had."

"Well, I reckon it's all of one hundred feet," replied Frank; "and that's enough to settle a fellow. But let's lie back here, and get our breath a bit before going on up. The cave can't be far off now, if what Joe said is so."

Both of the boys were panting after their unusual exertion, and Bob was glad of a chance to rest for even a brief time. Besides, another burst of thunder was starting in, and he fancied that it was louder than any that had gone before; just as if they might be drawing closer to the place from whence all this clamor came.

The cave that Spanish Joe had found and entered—could it have anything to do with the mystery of the mountain? Frank seemed to think so, and was bent upon ascertaining the facts.

"Listen to that, Frank?" shouted the Kentucky lad in the ear of his mate, while the racket was at its height. "I can hear rocks dropping all around, just like the one did where Joe was grabbed by the leg. Do you think this always happens when the old mountain breaks loose; or is this an extra big celebration?"

"I was trying to get that myself, Bob," admitted Frank; "but we can only guess at it, because you see, nobody's ever been up here when the thunder was rocking the whole range, and so we don't know. But, honest, now, I'm of the opinion this happens only once in a great while; else the mountain would have been racked to pieces long ago."

"And just to think, we had the nerve to come here at a time when it was bound to do its worst," said Bob.

"Glad of it," Frank immediately returned. "It gives us a better chance to learn a few things worth while. I always did like to be in where the roping was fastest. Are you feeling better, Bob?"

"Oh! yes, I reckon I'm all right now," returned the other, rising.

"Ready to go on, then?" continued Frank.

"Try me, that's all. If I turn tail and run, don't ever speak to me again," came the steady, but not boastful, answer.

"Good boy! All right, let's be off again; and be mighty careful how you move. There may be more of those drops lying around loose. And next time you mightn't be so lucky about grabbing a spur of rock."

"That's so, Frank. Wow! but it makes me shiver to even think of it. Talk about Joe's narrow squeak, it wasn't any worse than mine," and Bob started to crawl after his better-trained chum.

Two more evidences came to them of the violence of the unseen force that was making Thunder Mountain shake, before Frank stopped to let his chum reach his side, so that he might exchange a few sentences.

"Looks like that might be the hole ahead," he ventured.

"I can see something that seems blacker than the night itself; is that what you mean, Frank?" asked Bob.

"Yes," his chum continued. "When Joe pointed up this way I took note of just the line, and followed it closely. That was why we came so near the precipice. And if that is the opening to the cave, we want to lie here and listen."

"Why, do you really believe the racket comes out of that hole?" demanded Bob, astonished at the very idea of such a thing.

"Wait and see," replied the other, confidently. "In the meantime, here's our opportunity to pick up a few candles that will come in handy."

They had come to a halt directly under a tree; and Bob had already discovered that the ground was thickly strewn with broken branches. Some of these were apt to be fat with the inflammable gum that exudes from certain species of cedar, and would, as Frank said, make splendid torches.

Frank was already on his hands and knees searching for suitable ones; and as Bob grasped the idea he, too, set to work.

"I have four already; how do you stand?" asked Frank, presently.

"Just as many—no, here's the fifth one, and the best of the lot," came the reply from the Kentucky lad, who went into everything with ardor and enthusiasm.

"That ought to do for us," Frank went on. "And now, listen for all you're worth, because the war is on again!"

Lying there, Bob heard what seemed to be the first signal. It was as though some giant hand had tapped the solid rock with his club. Then faster came the blows, and more and more did the din increase, until it was fairly deafening. Only for his intense eagerness to hear every sound Bob might have been tempted to thrust his fingers into his ears in order to shut out the awful clamor.

To him it seemed as though a thousand anvils were being beaten in chorus, with a few other minor chords thrown in for good measure.

And what interested Bob most of all, as he crouched there listening, was the fact that all this dreadful noise seemed to be coming directly from the spot where his comrade had pointed out as the opening of a cave.

There was not the faintest trace of lightning accompanying the manifestation; and this proved, beyond all question of dispute, that the mystery connected with Thunder Mountain had nothing to do with an electrical storm. Possibly the observing Indians had many years ago discovered this same thing; and it had strengthened their belief that the great Manitou spoke to his red children through the voice of the wonderful mountain.

It took longer, this time, for the noise to die away; just as though, whatever its cause, there was increasing reluctance to subside again.

"That was a screamer, sure enough!" said Frank, when he could make himself heard above the declining roar.

"And Bob, you noticed, didn't you, that it seemed to come right out of that hole? All right, it begins to look now as if we were Johnny on the spot, if we've got the nerve to push things. Somewhere in there, Bob, lies the explanation of the mystery. Do we take the dare; or stay out here and wait till the fuss is over before entering?"

Bob possibly swallowed hard before replying. It was no easy thing for him to say the words that would thrust them up against so terrible a thing as this unknown peril awaiting them in the gloom of that crack of the great mountain. But his hesitation was brief. In fact, he only wanted to catch his breath, shut his teeth hard together, and summon his Kentucky blood.

"It's a go, Frank!" he said, with determination in his voice; "the chance may never come to us again. Let's go in, and discover for ourselves the secrets of the Indian god they say is guarding Thunder Mountain. I'm ready, so lead on!"



CHAPTER XVII

FRANK HOLDS THE HOT STICK

"No hurry," said Frank, who realized that his comrade was worked up to a high pitch of excitement, and thought it the part of wisdom to do something in order to quiet Bob's nerves.

"But if we've got to try it, Frank, what's the use of waiting?" demanded the impetuous one.

"Well, for one thing, we don't want to be carrying these candles without making use of one, you see," replied Frank, who was again getting out his handy matchsafe.

"What a silly I am, to be sure," laughed Bob; "why of course we want a light, if we're going to invade that den of the demon Joe told us about. What do you think about that yarn, Frank; did he meet up with anything; or was he just scared out of his seven senses? Perhaps there's a strong current of air in that place, along with the noise, and that took hold of Joe."

"Well, I wouldn't like to say," replied the other, cautiously. "This I do know, and I saw it with my own eyes. Joe's fancy Mexican jacket was torn nearly into ribbons; and I could see marks of blood, too."

"Whew! you don't say?" ejaculated Bob. "Then something did get hold of him; didn't it, Frank?"

"Looked like it," admitted the other.

"His jacket was torn into ribbons, you said—then I reckon whatever tackled Joe had pretty sharp claws, Frank!" Bob continued.

"I thought as much myself. In other words, Bob, the man was attacked by some wild beast that has its den in yonder. In the dark, with all that terrible noise going on, Joe thought it was a monster from the underworld. If he keeps on telling that story, ten to one, after a while, he'll vow it had eyes of fire, and a tongue of blue flame. Joe was frightened half to death, and a man in that condition gets to seeing things that never did exist. Now, how's that?"

While speaking Frank had managed to light one of the cedar torches he carried. The wood burned readily, and with persistence. It would make a good substitute for a lantern. Indeed, Bob was enthusiastic over the success attending his chum's effort.

"Couldn't be beat, that's what!" he cried.

"Well, there's nothing to keep us now," declared Frank.

"But what can I do?" asked the other. "Want me to light a torch too, Frank?"

"No, one ought to be enough. You fall in just behind me, and Bob, perhaps you'd better keep your gun handy."

"Oh! you're thinking now of that demon Joe told about, eh, Frank?"

"Perhaps. If it jumps out at us give a center shot, if you can," the saddle boy advised, as he led the way forward toward the black spot which they had guessed must be the cave entrance spoken of by Spanish Joe.

They were quickly at the wall, and had no difficulty in learning that, just as they had guessed, the yawning hole was there. Frank, without the slightest hesitation, stepped through the opening. Bob did likewise, holding his gun in readiness for immediate use.

The light of the blazing torch lighted up the interior. They could see that, so far, there was nothing remarkable about the cave, save that it seemed to stretch away into dim distance, with various twists and curves.

"What are you sniffing about, Frank?" demanded Bob, who, in the silence, heard what his comrade was doing.

"I think I scent something, that's all," replied the other.

"Not brimstone and sulphur, I hope?" cried Bob.

"Well, hardly," chuckled the other. "In fact, it seemed to me that it was only such an odor as you can always detect around the den of a wild beast!"

"Glory! then Joe didn't dream it, after all; and there may be an old grizzly in this cave!" ejaculated Bob.

"Not a grizzly," declared Frank, quickly. "If anything, I think it must be a panther. But he may have left after attacking Joe, so that we'll have no trouble with the beast."

"I hope so," Bob remarked, as he strove to look seven ways at once, keeping his finger on the trigger of his repeating rifle all the while.

They were now advancing into the cave.

"Do you think Joe had a torch?" asked Bob, as a new idea came to him.

"Well, he isn't the man to take chances, and he couldn't help but see the good torch material at the door yonder. But the beast may have jumped on his back, so he lost his torch before he could see. And then he fought in the dark. Joe has always been known as a hard fighter, and with his knife I reckon he could give a good account of himself. Hello! see here!"

Bob started when his chum gave this sudden exclamation.

"Oh! I thought you had sighted the panther!" he gasped as he lowered the gun, which had, perhaps through mere instinct, gone up to his shoulder.

Frank was bending down. He held his torch in such a fashion that he could see better; and he appeared to be examining something on the rock.

"What is it?" asked Bob, eagerly; "footprints?"

"No, just a little spot of blood," came the reply.

"Fresh, too, I can see," declared the tenderfoot, as he looked. "Does that mean this is the exact place where Joe had his little circus, Frank?"

"I reckon it is," replied the other.

"Then if that beast hasn't cleared out we might run across him before long!" remarked Bob.

"Oh!"

Frank gave utterance to this cry. He had seen some object flash through the air, and knew it could be nothing else than the lithe body of a panther making a leap.

The animal must have had a place of hiding close by, from which it had probably jumped upon the shoulders of Spanish Joe, and now sought to repeat that act.

Bob was struck by the descending body of the animal; and while he did not suffer serious injury from the blow, it jarred his arm, and caused him to drop his rifle. He instantly leaped forward to recover the weapon, but through chance picked it up by the end of the barrel.

The panther had recovered, and was crouching as though to repeat its jump. Only a yard lay between the fierce beast and the boy who held the gun. Perhaps a veteran hunter would have proceeded to reverse the weapon, and discharge it without taking the trouble to throw the stock to his shoulder. But Bob did not dream that he would be given enough time for all this.

He saw the beast there close to him, and his first thought was to poke the butt of the rifle directly at its head, striking with all his force. The blow landed heavily, but as the beast gave way, Bob lost his balance, and fell directly toward the panther.

It looked as though the boy might be in for a terrible clawing, and so it must have turned out had he been alone. But he had a comrade close at hand who did not hesitate an instant about taking part in the affair.

Frank could not get at his gun, which was slung across his back; but he knew he had a better weapon than that in hand. Wild animals dread fire above all things; and every lad brought up on the prairie knows this fact.

Suddenly Frank brought down his torch upon the beast with all the force he was capable of using. There was a snarl and the animal jumped aside, evidently not fancying the closeness of the stick that burned. The lad again raised his torch, but evidently the panther had already endured quite enough of the conflict. It was bad enough fighting two human beings at a time; but when one of them persisted in belaboring him with such a hot weapon he drew the line.

And so with a parting snarl, that was full of defiance and venom, the panther sprang back out of sight, departing just as silently as he had come.

"That's just like the luck," grumbled Bob.

"What's the matter now?" asked Frank, looking sharply to make sure that the treacherous beast did not sneak back in order to attack them from another quarter.

"Why, I'd just got my gun slewed around, and was ready to fire when he skipped out. I'd liked to have bagged him, I reckon. A grizzly and a panther, all on one trip, would be worth talking about."

"Oh! I don't know that you'd have been so very proud over it," observed Frank.

Bob looked at him as he said this.

"Now, you've got some reason for making such a remark as that," he observed.

"Perhaps I have," answered his chum, nodding wisely.

"Then out with it, Frank, and don't keep me wondering. Besides, I reckon that we'll have another bellow from the old mountain at any time now."

"I guess you didn't notice something queer about that animal, then, Bob?"

"About the panther, you mean?" came the reply. "Well, to tell the honest truth I was knocked all in a heap when I missed hitting him, and didn't have time to bother looking at him close enough to see anything. But what was so funny about him, Frank? Did he have only one eye; or was he three-legged?"

"Oh! nothing of that sort," declared the other; "so far as I know he is in possession of all his members. It was about his neck."

"What about it? Did he have a rubber neck, you mean?" demanded Bob, trying to be a little humorous so as to conceal the fact of his excitement.

"The beast had a collar on!" Frank remarked, positively; "and that means he must be the pet of somebody who has a hiding place in this cave!"



CHAPTER XVIII

A GUESS THAT HIT THE BULLSEYE

As Frank made this astonishing declaration his chum looked blankly at him, the information having evidently surprised him not a little.

"A tame panther, you mean, Frank?" he exclaimed, weakly.

"That's just what I'm hinting at," replied the other, positively.

"With a collar around his neck, too?" murmured Bob.

"Yes. I saw it as plain as I see you now," Frank went on. "It was when I jumped forward, and gave him the first crack that made him fall away in a hurry. A collar that was broad and stout. Why, Bob, when he threw back his head to avoid punishment I could even see where a chain could be fastened, and the animal kept in confinement."

"Whew! but he acted like a wild one, all right," protested Bob.

"He sure did, Bob; but that was because he had already been stirred up by the fight with Spanish Joe. I reckon the cowboy must have give him a few jabs with that handy knife he owns. Anyhow, the panther was spoiling for a scrap, and didn't care a cent how many there were."

"That was before you gave him his finish with that fire-stick, Frank. Didn't that knock the old chap silly, though? Why, it took all the fight out of him, for a fact. He was the tame panther all right when he ran away, with his tail between his legs. Think he'll tackle us again?"

"No telling; but I don't believe the beast cares much for running against my torch again. It might pay for both of us, though, to keep on the watch," Frank replied, always on the side of caution.

"But I say, Frank, is the fact that he's private property going to make any difference; that is, do I shoot straight if I get the chance again?"

"Well, I say yes," answered the other. "Given half a chance and he'd maul us the worst way. No matter who's property he may be, I'd advise him to keep clear of Haywood and Archer. They're marked, dangerous—hands and claws off, but come along, Bob; let's be moving."

"Wait, there it comes again, Frank. Don't you think we'd better lie down till the worst is over?" ventured Bob, as he caught the opening notes of the mighty anvil chorus that would soon be in full blast.

"Well, now, perhaps that wouldn't be a bad idea, Bob. Suppose we do stretch out here, you facing one way and I another."

The two crouched there. Frank had thrust the torch into a crevice, for he wanted the use of both hands in gripping his rifle. If the wild beast guardian of the cave tried to attack them again, he felt that he would like to be in a position to shoot.

"Feel the wind, will you?" called Bob, as the sounds mounted higher and higher.

"I'm afraid our torch is going to be blown out," Frank replied, pointing to the flaring light, which was being hard pressed by the suction that seemed to rush through the cave, heading always toward the mouth.

"Say, Frank, the air feels wet!" shouted Bob, while the racket was at its height.

Of course this was no special news to Frank. He, too, had noticed the same thing, and mentally commented on it. And as it was in line with certain suspicions which he already entertained, he had felt amply repaid for taking such hazards in plunging into that black cave.

Then suddenly an extra strong blast put the torch out.

"Wow! there she goes, Frank! What will we do now?" yelled Bob, of course feeling a new uneasiness because of the intense darkness, the presence of an angry animal near by, and the general air of mystery that hung over the scene.

"Nothing. Just wait till the storm blows by; and then we'll light up again," was what Frank shouted back at him.

Already it was diminishing. Like the receding waves of the great ocean the uproar died down, growing fainter with each pulsation.

And finally there came again the silence that in one way was almost as dreadful as the clamor; during which Frank proceeded to light the torch again, though not without some difficulty.

"Frank, you felt that wet sensation, like fine spray, didn't you?" demanded Bob, as soon as he could speak with comfort. "Why, touch your face right now; and you'll find it moist. Whatever can it mean?"

"I think I know," Frank said, slowly. "I suspected it before, and this seems to make it look more than ever that way."

"Do you mean that you've guessed what makes all that frightful noise?" asked Bob, astonished.

"I believe I have," came the reply.

"And it has to do with this misty feeling in the air; has it?" continued the Kentucky boy.

"If my idea proves the right one, and I'm bound to find out before I go away from this place, it's got everything to do with it, Bob."

"Where there's smoke you'll find fire; and where there's mist I reckon water can be looked for," remarked Bob, quickly.

"Just so. Now Bob, have you ever been up in the Yellowstone Park region?"

"I can't say that I have, Frank."

"Then you see I've got the advantage over you; and that's what gave me a point in the game. Because I've stood and watched Old Faithful and the other great geysers play every half hour or so," Frank went on, as they slowly advanced into the passage which seemed possibly to act as one of many funnels through which the tremendous roaring sound was carried to the outside world.

"Geysers!" cried Bob. "Oh! now I get onto what you mean. You think, then, that in the heart of Thunder Mountain a giant geyser spouts every once in a while; and that as the water is dashed against the rocky walls it makes the ground shake. Is that it, Frank?"

"Yes," replied the other, "and the noise is so like thunder that when it is forced out through several queer, funnel-shaped openings like this one, it has puzzled the Indians for hundreds of years. Bob, more than that, I believe that every once in so many years, when an extra convulsion shakes things up here, the water bursts out through some passage, and rushes down that barranca in a wave perhaps twenty feet high."

"But they call it a cloud burst, Frank," suggested Bob.

"I know they do, but still I stick to my idea," Frank went on.

"And this promises to be an extra strong outburst. Nick said so anyhow; didn't he, Frank?" Bob queried, a new anxiety in his tone.

"Just what he did. You're wondering now, that if what I said is true, whether this passage right here is one of those through which all that water dashes, on its way to the rocky barranca?"

"Yes, that's the truth. How about it? Could you see any signs here to tell about that?"

"I suppose I could if they were here, but I don't discover any. Besides, I thought of that before we entered, and I give you my word that I don't believe any big volume of water ever went out through here. It couldn't do it and not leave some sign behind."

Bob heaved a big sigh.

"Well, I'm right glad to hear you say that, Frank, seeing that we're so far in now, we wouldn't have any chance to escape if it came along. Whew! I wouldn't like being carried through here, and shot out of the muzzle like a bullet. But seems to me the place is getting bigger right along, Frank."

"Just what it is. Now you can see how like the neck of a bottle the cave is; and I think that has had a heap to do with the way that thunder noise gets loose. Why, they say that some days, or nights, it can be heard more than twelve miles away. I've seen Navajo Injuns drop flat on their faces, and lie there all the time we could hear the distant thunder in a clear sky over our way."

"But is it possible that some hermit is living in this cave?" asked Bob, thinking that it must be a queer sort of person who would remain where he must listen to such fearful sounds every once in a while.

"I told you to notice when we heard the noise the first time," Frank went on; "while we were in camp on the plain, that the night was clear, and the wind almost in the Southeast. Well, I made sure that it was in exactly the same quarter tonight when we were climbing the mountain. That means something, Bob."

"To you; but to me it's only a blank," admitted the tenderfoot, regretfully.

"I fancy that the direction of the wind has something to do with the working of this queer old geyser in the heart of Thunder Mountain. It only rears up when the wind is in the Southeast, as it is now. But say, you said something about a hermit just now?"

"I only said I thought it strange a fellow could live here through all the racket, year in and year out, just to get away from his kind," Bob remarked.

At that Frank laughed.

"But what if he had a big object in it, Bob? What if some daring prospector, taking his life in his hands, had plunged into one of these caves of the winds, this one right here, for instance, and struck it rich. Gold will make men do nearly anything. I've seen 'em go crazy over finding a nugget, or yellow sand in their pan. Don't you see what I mean, Bob? Have you forgotten little Lopez, and how frightened he looked when we spoke about keeping him company?"

Bob uttered a cry that might stand for either astonishment or delight, perhaps both.

"Frank, it just takes you to see through the mill stone, even if it hasn't got any hole in it," he declared. "I understand what you mean now. Little Lopez has been coming here for a year or more, always bringing supplies. Perhaps he carries away the gold dust the miner has gathered in that time, and no one the wiser. It has all been a dead secret. And the terror of the Indians for this haunted mountain, as well as the way the cowboys leave it alone, has helped this bold miner. Frank, your shot hit the bull's eye, and who knows but what we may be on the way to find out the truth right now?"



CHAPTER XIX

THE WORKING OF THE GOLD LODE

"Now you know what I think, Bob; but after all I may be on the wrong track," said Frank, after his companion had expressed himself so freely.

"Of course," Bob went on saying; "but all the same I don't think you are. After you've shown me, it's just like that egg Columbus stood up on end, after cracking the shell a bit—as easy as jumping off a log, once you know how. But now we're in here, I hope we find out the truth soon, don't you, Frank?"

"Honest now, Bob, I don't care how quick it comes," replied his chum, frankly.

"This is a terrible place, with panthers hanging around, and that thunder banging to beat the band every minute or so. I'm only wondering, Frank, what would become of us if that old geyser should take a notion to explode suddenly, and flush every avenue out of the heart of the mountain."

"Don't mention it, please," Frank answered, with a shrug of his shoulders. "If such a thing happened we wouldn't know what hurt us, I'm afraid."

"Huh! some consolation in that, anyhow," grunted Bob. "If a fellow has to go up against the buzz-saw, the sooner it's over the better."

"But nothing of the kind is going to happen," Frank insisted; "and you want to get the idea clean out of your head. We're making fine progress, and any minute, now, I expect we'll run across the party who occupies this cave."

"But every time the blowout comes, away goes our light; and another spouting is about due now, I reckon," ventured Bob.

"I've got an idea I may be able to save the torch," Frank remarked. "I don't know just how it's going to work; but anyhow the thing's worth trying."

"Then here comes your chance," his chum called.

As before, the grumbling began with an earth tremor. It was as though some giant, whose mighty limbs were shackled, was trying to break loose; and in so doing made things near him tremble.

Rapidly the noise increased, until it became terrifying. Bob had dropped flat, and cowered there, almost holding his breath with awe. Not so Frank, in whose care was the burning torch.

He had whipped off his coat at the first sign of the disturbance. This he hastily arranged so as to partially protect the burning brand. Of course in such a violent draught the suction was enough to make the flame flare and flicker until at one time Frank feared it could not stand the struggle. But just as he was ready to give up the attempt, the furious wind seemed to slacken.

Bob raised his head to see the torch still burning, and it soon recovered its full capacity for illumination.

"Bully!" he exclaimed, beginning to rise from his position of hugging the rocky floor of the cave; "you did it that time, Frank. But hurry up, and get your coat on. Gee! but this air feels chilly in here, and damp too!"

Frank had found that out for himself. He was even shivering; and made haste to don his jacket.

"Now let's be moving while we have the chance," he said. "I hope that before the next rush comes we'll sight what we're looking for."

Perhaps his sharp eyes had discovered certain signs that told him they were near the working part of the cave. Men cannot mine a lode of precious ore without leaving many traces behind to tell of their presence. And the stream of clear water that passed across the place seemed to offer a splendid chance for panning any golden treasure that might be found in the shape of soft quartz.

Now and again Frank would place the torch behind him. Bob wondered what he did this for until he saw his chum bending his head forward as though endeavoring to discover what lay ahead. Then he realized that the light blinded him while it was before his eyes, and he sought to avoid the trouble in this way.

"There's another bend ahead, Bob," Frank remarked, presently.

"Yes?" said the Kentucky lad, eagerly, suspecting what was coming.

"And I can see signs of light at the curve," Frank went on.

"Hurrah! Everything seems to be coming out just as you figured, Frank. When I get back to the ranch I'm going to write to the president, proposing that he put you in charge of the weather bureau. Every old farmer will know then when to look out for storms."

"Well, we may be in for one now," observed Frank, dryly.

"Look here, you mean something by that remark," Bob cried. "Do you expect we're going to have a peck of trouble with these miners?"

"I don't know. It all depends on what sort of men they are," Frank replied.

"But we wont let 'em drive us out of here until we know all about that geyser, if there is such a thing; will we, Frank?"

"Well, I reckon it won't take a great deal of driving to get both of us out; but of course I do hope we'll learn something about the real cause of all this awful racket. Are you ready to turn the bend, Bob?"

"Sure," and the Kentucky boy ranged alongside his chum, by this movement plainly indicating that he did not mean to let Frank take any more risk than he himself was ready and willing to assume.

No sooner had the two saddle boys turned the bend in the passage than they saw a singular spectacle.

A couple of lanterns were hung from wooden pins driven in the wall. These lights, being protected by glass, could safely resist the tremendous suction that accompanied each successive convulsion, as the rocks trembled, and the air swept through toward the outer exit.

Only two figures were in sight—a man and a boy. In the latter they recognized little Lopez, the hero of the adventure with the grizzly; and if their suspicions proved true also, the little girl whom Bob had rescued from the anger of the bully, Peg Grant.

The man was a rugged specimen, with long, iron-gray hair. Frank recognized him as Lemuel Smith, whom he remembered to have met several years ago when in a border town with his father.

Smith had always been a rolling stone, a prospector who spent his time in hunting new strikes, and who lived year in and year out in the wild hope of sometime or other hitting it rich. Frank suddenly remembered that Smith had had one daughter, who, he believed, had married a Mexican. And that would make the little girl his grand-daughter.

"They're packing up," remarked Frank, whose quick eye had noticed the fact.

"Perhaps he's done his work here, and means to vamoose the ranch," Bob suggested. "Then again," he added, as another thought raced through his brain, "maybe he doesn't altogether like the looks of things, and wants to get out of this rat-hole before it all goes to smash. He must have been here a long time, and ought to know something about that geyser, Frank."

"There, they have discovered us!" the other exclaimed, as he waved his torch in what he meant to be a friendly way, and kept on advancing.

"Whew! I just hope he doesn't try to fire on us," muttered Bob, who was nervously fingering his rifle, and wondering how dreadful it would feel to be compelled, even in self-defense, to shoot at a fellow human being.

But the old miner held up both hands. It was the Indian peace sign, understood by every savage tribe on the face of the globe.

Quickly the two boys hurried forward, for the first symptoms of another burst of thunder and furious wind began to make themselves felt.

This time Frank did not take off any of his outer clothing in order to protect the torch. He had noted that the old miner had two lanterns, and he expected to borrow one, if necessary.

Of course his torch was snuffed out while the furious blast swept by. Bob noted that each successive outbreak tried to beat the record, and he was wondering just when the limit of endurance might be reached.

The old miner, after the roar had subsided, offered the two boys his hand.

"How are ye, young Haywood?" he asked, recognizing Frank. "I heard about what you done for my little gal here, Inez Lopez, whose father was once a cowboy on the Circle ranch, and lost his life in a fight with some of his countrymen when they quarreled. I'm glad to see you. Found a nice little pocket here a year or so back. Kept it on the quiet; and the gal, playing the part of a boy, has been fetchin' me supplies once in two months, an' takin' away the dust I winnowed. Pocket's played out now, but I reckons as how I've got plenty. 'Sides, I just don't like the way things is agoin' here. That spoutin' geyser that rises up inside the old mountain every once in a while acts like it meant to break loose. Never saw it carry on that bad before; and we're just ready to cut and run, leavin' most of the truck behind. What brings ye here, Frank?"

So Frank had to explain in a few words, while the old miner looked admiringly at the boys, and grinned.

"I admire your nerve, young fellers," he declared, at the conclusion of the explanation. "And, Frank, ye guessed the true facts, blessed if ye didn't! I got onto the same by accident. Fell in through a hole, and just had to creep along this passage to the end. Then havin' guessed what made the roar, I wondered if so be I could find any stuff in here. So I took a lot of wood along, and made my discovery."

"And you say you're bound out now?" asked Frank.

"That's what we are, little Lopez and me; and we can't get to the open any too soon, either, to please both of us," Smith replied, shouldering his pack.

"Oh! say, Mr. Smith," cried Bob, "have you lost a pet that wears a collar?"

"Meanin' my pet painter, Nero, I take it," replied the miner. "I raised him up from a cub, and he's as fond of me as my dog. But he's gone somewhar. We ain't seen him for hours, and like as not the critter knowed it was gettin' dangerous in here. Trust animal sense for that. But wait till this next whoop gets by, and then we'll make for the door. Here's hopin' we'll all be smart enough to get to the open. Bend your backs to the wind, boys; ye wont feel it so much then," and all of them carried out his instructions as, with a rapidly rising roar, the spouting geyser that played in the heart of Thunder Mountain again started to break loose.



CHAPTER XX

TRAPPED IN A CANYON

Once the little party started toward the opening, they made rapid progress. The turmoil was at their backs, for one thing. Then, again, each time the noise broke forth it seemed so much worse than before, that every one felt anxious to get beyond the portal of the cave before the climax came.

And when finally this opened before them, Bob drew a long sigh of relief.

"Glory!" he burst out. "Maybe I'm not glad we've arrived! But I reckon your pet, Nero, has skipped, Mr. Smith, or he would have come out when you and the little Lopez passed. Sorry for you; but perhaps it's just as well for the rest of us; because you see the fellow might have had it in for us."

So they passed into the outer air.

"Seems pretty much the same as when we left," remarked Bob, as he stared up at the dark sky against which they could see the rocky crown of Thunder Mountain dimly outlined.

"Why, what did you expect?" asked Frank.

"I didn't know but what some of that thunder might be the genuine article, and we'd find the rain coming down to beat the band. Glad it isn't, because we want to get down from this to where our horses are."

"Little Lopez has our burro and bronco quartered in a small ravine where they can't escape," remarked the old miner, as he handed Frank the lantern he had been carrying, the girl taking the other.

"But would they be in danger in case of a storm-burst?" asked Bob.

"We counted on that when we arranged the exit by piling up stones," came the ready reply. "There is little danger, for the ravine has high banks, where they are able to go in case of hard luck. But now we have a tough job ahead, boys. Mind your steps all the time. A slip might cost you dear."

"Reckon I know that, Mr. Smith," remarked Bob. "I've had experience, you see. And only for the helping hand of my trusty chum here, I'm afraid I wouldn't be alive right now. Oh! I'll be careful, I give you my word."

And he was, seldom putting a foot forward without first making certain how the land lay below, and that the stone he expected to step upon was firmly planted.

They were making fair progress when the old miner called out:

"We've reached the parting of the ways, boys. Little Lopez and me have to turn to the left here, so as to hit the place whar our animals are cached. You keep right on. Wish you the best of luck, Frank. Hope to see you some time at my shack. And I tell ye, son, thar's agoin' to be a ranch soon, with hosses for the gal, an' an ottermobile for the old couple. I struck it rich in this here lode and pocket. So-long, boys!"

He shook hands with each of them, as did also the girl, whose astonishing nerve, when facing that terrible grizzly, Bob would never forget. Then they separated. And a minute afterward there came another of those fearful shocks that seemed to make the very rocks of the mountain quiver, as the pent-up force of that great geyser beat against its prison walls.

"We must be getting down somewhere near the canyon, aren't we, Frank?" asked Bob, after they had been a long while descending the side of the rough mountain.

"That's right, we are," replied his chum. "And I've been wondering whether we ought to take the chances of going along that barranca just now."

"It's the shortest way to where we left our horses, I reckon," remarked Bob.

"And the only way we happen to know of," Frank went on; "but if that flood just happened to break loose while we were between those high walls we'd have an experience that would be fierce, let me tell you!"

"But then, it may not come for hours yet?" remonstrated the Kentucky boy, who was anxious to be once again in the saddle, and leaving the haunted mountain well in the rear.

"Oh! for that matter, it may not come at all," Frank went on. "Although Smith did say he really believed that this was going to finish the old geyser, which he believed empties into one of those queer underground rivers we know are to be found all through the Southwest. And Smith ought to know something about it, for he's been watching this business a whole year now, from close quarters."

"I'm willing to take the chances, if you are," declared Bob.

Frank was not at all surprised when he heard his chum say this. He knew that the Kentucky boy was apt to be rash; and that meant more caution on his part, in order to counteract this spirit, that might border on recklessness.

A quick decision had to be made, for delay could do them no good. He cast one last look up at the dark heavens, as though questioning how long they might remain mute.

"All right, we'll risk it, Bob," he declared, suddenly; for even if the worst came Frank believed he knew how to avoid a calamity.

"Good for you, Frank!" exclaimed the other; but Bob understood the nature of the risk they were taking, and he was not quite so buoyant as usual.

The canyon was just below them now, and fortunately there seemed a narrow bit of slope down which they might make their way. This they did with considerable difficulty. Indeed, Bob was secretly sorry, after they had started, that he had urged his companion to take this step; but there could be no going back now.

Finally, after several slips, and more or less excitement, they managed to gain the bottom of the canyon.

"Say, I don't remember this place any, Frank!" declared Bob, as he stared about him as well as he could by the flickering light of the lantern which his companion still carried, and which had served them well through all their descent.

"For a mighty good reason," replied Frank. "We were never here before."

"But this is the same old turtle crawl, isn't it; the barranca we followed up to the time we climbed the slope with our horses?" Bob asked.

"It sure is, only a lot farther along, Bob. Notice how the walls tower upon each side. I knew something about this, and that was why I held back when you wanted to come down here. But let's hurry. We've got to make that slope as soon as we can."

"Supposing the thing broke loose before we could find any place to climb out?" suggested Bob, looking up again with awe, as he stumbled along after his chum, who was already hurrying down the canyon.

"We might try to outrun it first," Frank replied, over his shoulder.

"And if that didn't work, what then?" the other continued.

"Nothing left but to climb the walls, Bob."

"Whew! then perhaps I'd better be keeping an eye out as we go along, and see how the land lies?" suggested the boy from Kentucky.

"A good idea, Bob. Just notice where the chances look half-way decent for a climb. And remember, at the same time, that the wave may be all of thirty feet deep when it sweeps through here."

"You don't say? That would mean some hustling then to get up out of reach, Frank."

"I reckon it would. Look out for that nasty rock; it nearly tripped me, Bob."

"What was that flash, Frank? Don't tell me it was lightning, real lightning, and that the long delayed storm is going to break right now, when it's got us cooped up in this hole?"

"It was lightning, all right. There, that proves it!"

Frank's words were drowned in a crash of genuine thunder that made the foundations of the mountain shake just as much as the mad efforts of the imprisoned geyser had ever done.

"No mistake about that sort of thing," cried Bob, as he stumbled along after his chum. "There it comes again, Frank. I guess I'd better be picking out a good way up the wall somewhere, for it looks like we'd have to climb!"

Frank was doubtless sizing up the situation in his mind. He was also listening for some sound which he expected to hear, but which was going to prove a very unwelcome one.

"No use going any further, Bob, if so be you've seen anything that looks promising here," he declared, when the reverberations of the thunder had ceased to echo through the canyon.

"Then you think we're going to get caught here, Frank?" questioned the other.

"I'm afraid to take the chances of keeping on any further. It may be a long run to the next broken wall, that offers us a chance to climb. Some places the sides go up as smooth as glass. Have you see an opening here, Bob?"

"Yes, yes, right on the left, Frank!" exclaimed Bob, eagerly. "I couldn't see so very far up, but it looks good to me."

Frank turned his gaze up to where his comrade pointed.

"I think it's rough as far as that ledge," he said; "and let us hope that will be out of the reach of the water. Come on, Bob; let's see how you can climb; but be careful, boy, be mighty careful!"

"Frank, that roaring sound didn't seem like the others we've been hearing; d'ye think it means anything has happened?" Bob called, as he started to clamber up the rough face of the wall, taking advantage of every jutting rock, and showing a nimbleness a mountain goat might almost have envied.

"I reckon it does, Bob," replied the other. "Get along as fast as you can with all caution."

"Has the cloudburst arrived?" demanded Bob, who was already ten feet from the floor of the canyon.

"Either that, or else with that last shock the geyser burst its bonds, and the flood Smith expected is rushing out from all the passages into this same channel! Perhaps both things have happened at the same time," Frank replied.

"Wow! then we'd better be climbing some, I reckon, if that's the case!" cried the Kentucky boy, as he increased his efforts to ascend to the ledge.



CHAPTER XXI

A CLOSE CALL

"It's sure coming down on us, Frank!" cried Bob, shortly, as he caught a strange mixture of terrifying sounds.

"Climb!" shouted back the other; for he knew they would have about all they could do to reach the shelf of rock before the mighty wave swept through that narrow channel between the high walls of the canyon, with a force utterly irresistible.

Bob was doing his best. He realized that the ledge was just above his head now, and also how necessary it was that they reach it before the rushing flood arrived to fill the gap.

Now his eager fingers clutched the edge, and he strove to pull himself up higher. But his breath was exhausted from his violent efforts, and the excitement attending the occasion.

Bob realized that the torrent was very close at hand. Its roar dinned in his ears so that he could hear nothing else. The rocks seemed to be quivering under the impact of the released forces. He felt a cold shiver pass over him as he was seized with a dreadful fear that the rock to which he clung was giving way.

Then something seized him by the back of the neck, and Bob found himself being helped up to a firm foundation. Frank had succeeded in gaining the ledge ahead of his chum; and naturally enough his first thought was to assist Bob.

Panting, and completely exhausted, Bob lay there on the shelf of rock. He could look down, and when the lightning played, see the oncoming of that foam-crested bank of mad waters that rushed pell mell down the canyon.

Now it was speeding past them, rising higher and higher with each second, until a new fear began to grip at Bob's anxious heart. He dreaded lest the wave might attain such a height that he and his chum would be swept from their perch, to be carried away, helpless victims on the crest of the flood.

It was raining now, in sheets. The boys were quickly soaked to the skin; but neither of them paid the least attention to this fact, which, after all, was of minor Importance.

"Frank, do you think it's going to reach up here?" called Bob, as he watched the rising line of water come within three feet of the ledge.

"I hope not," came the reply, and then Bob saw that his chum was moving along the ledge looking carefully above as though in hopes of finding it possible to climb higher, in case of necessity.

"Any chance of getting up the rocks, Frank?" he asked again, a minute later.

"Mighty little, Bob," replied the other, dropping beside him; "how's the water coming along?"

"Less'n two feet from us now, and still rising," reported Bob, disconsolately.

"But it comes slowly, you notice," Frank declared, with hope in his voice.

"I could just touch it the last time the lightning played; now I can put my hand clear in it!" Bob called, uneasily.

Another minute passed. The lightning was of considerable assistance to the trapped saddle boys, for it enabled them to see. Frank had lost his lantern during the climb, as it was torn from his belt by a rock he struck; so that only for this heavenly illumination they must have been in utter darkness. And when peril threatens it is some satisfaction at least to see the worst.

"Now it's only one foot down, Frank!" cried Bob.

"That's so," replied the other, instantly; "but I reckon it's about reached its limit. You see, the higher it rises the broader the channel becomes, and that takes a heap of the water. Bob, cheer up, I'm nearly sure it won't reach the ledge!"

"Oh! don't I hope it won't!" cried the Kentucky boy, a little hysterically; for his nerves had indeed been sorely tried during this night.

Five minutes more passed, during which the torrent continued to rush downward through the gorge with all the attendant clamor.

"It's at a stand!" shouted Frank, who had himself been making soundings with his hand.

"And only six inches from the shelf!" echoed Bob. "That's what you could call a close call; eh, Frank?"

"It sure is, old fellow," replied the prairie boy, himself more relieved than his words would indicate; for he had discovered, during his brief search, that there was absolutely no hope of ascending any farther up that blank wall.

"Shake hands, Frank! We're as lucky as ever, I tell you!" said Bob; and when their hands clasped neither of them thought it strange that he could feel the other trembling.

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" asked Bob, when some time had passed, and the flood still rushed through the canyon, although in diminished fury.

"I don't know that we can do anything except camp out right here on this rock-shelf, and wait for the storm to pass by," replied Frank.

"Even if it takes till morning?" Bob went on.

"Nothing else left to us; and morning won't be so very long coming, perhaps, Bob. You notice, don't you, that the thunder now is about all natural?"

"Well, that's a fact," declared Bob. "The geyser has stopped beating against the inside of the mountain, hasn't it? Got tired of the job, and quit for another rest, perhaps."

"I've got my idea about that," Frank said "You can see how the water is still rushing along down there. It must be nearly ten feet deep, and for some time, now, I don't believe it's varied. Don't you understand what that means, Bob?"

"Good gracious! do you mean that the old geyser has turned into a river, and will keep on running like this right along?" cried the other.

"Looks that way to me," Frank replied. "It is a great big syphon, and once started, the water that has for centuries been wasting in some underground stream is now flowing down this canyon. Perhaps long ago it did this same thing, till some upheaval—an earthquake it might have been—turned things around."

"But I say, Frank!" Bob exclaimed; "If what you tell me turns out to be true, it looks as if we were bottled up in a nice hole, doesn't it? We can't get up any farther; and if we go down we'll just have to swim in a torrent that'll knock us silly. This is what I call tough!"

"Oh! don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Bob. This is a pretty good sort of a shelf after all; and we'll be glad to stick to it till morning comes. Time enough then to plan what we're going to do to get away."

"That's right, and I'm ashamed of complaining," the taller lad burst out.

"It is a grand old shelf; and if I wasn't afraid of rolling off I believe I could even snatch a few winks of sleep, wet clothes or not."

"Oh! I'll prop you up with some loose rocks If you want to try it," declared Frank; "but the chances are you'll get to shivering. Better sit up, and whack your arms around as I'm doing every little while. It makes the blood circulate, you see, and keeps you from going to pieces."

Bob saw the wisdom of this advice. He was beginning to shudder every minute or so. They were up the side of the mountain a considerable distance; and after the electrical storm the air had changed from hot to cold.

Time passed very slowly. Every now and then the boys would go through that motion of slapping their arms across their chests; and it never failed to start the chilled blood into new life.

"Was there ever such a long night?" groaned Gob, as he stretched his neck for the thirtieth time to look up at the narrow strip of sky that could be seen between the overhanging walls of the canyon, in hopes of discovering signs of the coming dawn.

"It won't be long now," said Frank, who carried a little watch along with him, and had several times struck a match to consult its face. "One good thing, Bob; it has cleared up. You can see the stars overhead."

"Yes, and how bright they look from here in this black hole. How long did you say now, Frank?" asked the anxious and weary Bob, yawning.

"Half an hour ought to see us through, and bring daylight."

"But Frank, that river is still running below us. However in the wide world will we get out of this?" asked Bob.

"No use crossing till you get to the bridge," laughed Frank. "Just you make up your mind there's going to be some way open for us to get out of this. And if the worst comes, I'm a boss swimmer, remember, Bob."

After another spell of waiting the Kentucky lad cried out:

"I believe it's getting light! Yes, you can see things now that were hid before!"

The morning came. Overhead the sun shone, for they could see that the sky was clear. And looking down they saw the rushing torrent that had not filled the bed of the canyon for perhaps centuries back.

When another hour had elapsed Bob began to grow impatient, and suggested various wild schemes for getting out of the difficulty. To all of these Frank shook his head. He himself was considering something, when he suddenly lifted his head as though listening.

"Some one shouting up yonder!" exclaimed Bob, pointing upward to the top of the canyon wall; whereupon Frank seized upon his gun, and fired several shots in rapid succession.

Then came answering shouts, upon which Frank repeated his signal for help.

"They hear you; they're coming closer! Oh! Frank, I believe that's Old Hank Coombs hollering!" exclaimed the excited Bob.

"Hello! down there, air ye all safe?" came a hail; and looking up the two boys on the shelf saw the grizzled head of the old cowman thrust into view.



CHAPTER XXII

ONCE MORE AT CIRCLE RANCH—CONCLUSION

After all, it was not a very great task, getting the two saddle boys up from the friendly shelf. Old Hank lowered his lariat; and after Bob had slipped the loop under his arms, he was pulled to safety. Then Frank followed.

They found that Hank had half a dozen cowboys with him, some of the most daring connected with Circle Ranch. Overtaken by the storm while at the base of the mountain, they had waited for daylight, and then started afoot to make the ascent. The presence of the new river in the bed of the long empty barranca astonished these cowmen exceedingly. And when they heard all that the boys had to tell they were almost of the opinion that they must have been dreaming.

But there was the evidence before their very eyes, and nobody could deny that the old-time river, that had been bottled up underground for so long, had finally found a way to break forth once more, aided by the geyser that for a century had beaten that tremendous tattoo every little while against the inner walls of the rocky mountain.

"Then there won't be no more racket, will there?" old Hank asked, as he lay there, looking down at the rushing current of the new stream that would no doubt readily follow its long abandoned course, until it reached the distant Colorado, somewhere along the Grand Canyon.

"The chances are against it," replied Frank.

"But let's try and find our horses," Bob suggested, after he had finished eating what food the newcomers had taken the pains to prepare for the lost ones.

"Yes, I'm anxious myself to find out how Buckskin's weathered the gale," Frank put in.

The two horses were found in good shape, but glad to once more see their masters, if the whinnies that greeted the coming of Frank and Bob might be looked upon as evidence of this.

And then another difficult task awaited them. To get the animals down to the level plain, now that the canyon was out of commission, taxed the ingenuity of even so expert a plainsman as Hank Coombs; but it was finally accomplished.

Then the horses of the cowboys were found, and the entire party started for the distant ranch, expecting to complete their jaunt before sundown.

Old Hank was deeply interested in what the boys had to tell about the band of rustlers passing, with all the led horses.

"Didn't git 'em from our ranch," he declared; "an' I reckons the X-bar-X must 'a suffered; or it might be the Arrowhead, over on the creek, was the one. But if so be Pedro Mendoza has been usin' that canyon to cross over the range with his stolen cattle an' horses, he'll hev to go further away now to do the same, 'cause his road's a rushin' river."

"We sure have had a great time of it," declared Bob, as they came in sight of the buildings of the ranch, and heard the loud calls of the cowboys who were driving some of the stock in from the range, to get it ready for shipment later.

"Yes, and think what we found out," Frank pursued. "First of all the mystery of Thunder Mountain is known, and from this time on those roaring sounds will never again be heard."

"And the Indians will be wondering why the Great Spirit is angry with his red children, so that he refuses to speak to them," Bob continued.

"And then there is that little affair about Lopez," Frank remarked, smiling at the recollection. "We have learned who Lopez is, and what his grandfather, Lemuel Smith, was doing in that cave. Think of Peg and his two guides getting out of the region without finding out a thing!"

"Say won't they be just as mad as hops, though, when they learn about what we saw and heard," chuckled Bob. "It's been a great time, all right. And Frank, we'll never again have anything like the fun we had in that old barranca. It makes my blood just jump through my veins to think of it."

"You're right," said Frank, "I don't believe we ever will!"

But like many other persons who cannot look ahead even one hour, and know what the future holds for them, both the saddle boys were very much mistaken. There were plenty of stirring adventures awaiting them ere many weeks had passed, some of which will be related in the next volume of this series, called "The Saddle Boys in the Grand Canyon; Or, The Hermit of the Cave." And those of our boy friends who have found more or less interest in the present story of life in the far Southwest, will doubtless be glad to read more of the doings of Frank Haywood and his brave Kentucky chum, Bob Archer.

That Peg and his guides reached home safely Frank knew shortly, when he happened to meet the bully on the trail. Peg was eager to hear at first hand all that had happened, and made friendly overtures with that design in view; but this did not deceive Frank in the least. He realized that Peg was more bitter than ever, and believed that if the opportunity ever came the bully would not hesitate to do anything that he thought would annoy the chums.

Frank had also found that the prospector, Smith, and his little Mexican granddaughter, had reached home in safety. The successful lode hunter purchased a ranch; and when Frank met him some time later he was riding around the country in a fine automobile, buying stock. Inez was with him, and never again would the brave little girl have to dress as a boy in order to carry supplies up into the canyons of the mountains.

Thunder Mountain never again uttered a sound of warning. The Indians marveled much, and consulted their greatest medicine men as to why the voice of Manitou called no more. But the whites knew; and a load was thereby taken from the mind of many a superstitious cowboy, who, when watching his charges through the vigils of the night, could look toward the rocky height without that feeling of uneasiness that had always been present when he believed the mountain to be haunted.



THE END