The Secret of Skull Mountain (14 page)
Read The Secret of Skull Mountain Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
“Nothing doing!” Frank told his brother. “That hole is too small as it is, and the passage may get a lot smaller as it goes along!”
“Frank's right, Joe,” Bob said. “It could be suicide! We'll just have to keep hunting for the mouth of the tunnel until we find it.”
Joe chuckled. “If the roundup comes off tomorrow, you won't have to look any more. We'll get the information from the gang.”
But as the boys climbed up the tunnel again, the Hardys thought seriously of the next day. As seasoned detectives, they knew better than to be overconfident.
When the four reached the fork, they stopped.
Dick nodded toward the other branch of the tunnel. “Ready for a look-see?” he asked softly.
“Wait,” said Frank. “I think it would be wise to cover ourselves. Chet should be at the camp by now. We'll go down and tell him what we're doing. If we don't come back in a reasonable time, he can go for help.”
The others agreed and they continued to the top of the mountain. After crawling out of the crevice, they placed the stone over it and hurried down the mountain.
When they reached the shack, they found Chet pouring himself a glass of milk.
“Make it five glasses,” Dick said, “and we'll tell you our news.”
Joe spoke up. “Chet, my boy, we have a job for you.”
His plump friend looked up warily. “Take it easy,” he said. “I'm not over yesterday's job yet.”
“All you need is a wrist watch,” Frank said. “You check around four o'clock this afternoon and if we aren't back by then, you head for the nearest telephone and inform Chief Collig.”
Joe explained what the day's plan was and quickly told Chet how to reach the entrance to the tunnels so that he could lead the police if necessary.
“Meanwhile, maybe you could help the soundmg crew,” Bob said. “The electronic equipment should be here in a few hours.”
“Okay,” said Chet. “That sounds safe enough.”
“I'd like to give the crew instructions before we head back to the summit,” said Bob, and the others walked down toward the men's quarters with him.
Going down the slope of the reservoir, Frank noted that the hard ground underfoot was covered with the stumps of bramble bushes. Nearby was the large patch of heavy shrubbery left by the clearing crew. The water had risen as usual, covering part of the bushes. Frank paused and gazed at them thoughtfully.
“No use looking at that,” Dick said gloomily “We've prodded it a thousand times, I guess. There's nothing but solid rock underneath.”
“I'll bet it's brambles,” said Frank, “like the rest of the stuff that was cut down around here.”
“So what?” said Chet. “With solid rock underneath there can't be a tunnel.”
But Frank was already striding across the slope. “I'm going to have another look,” he called back.
As the others followed, they saw Frank reach the shrubs and break off a piece.
When Joe trotted up, his brother held out the twig. “Brambles.”
The Hardys peered into the thorny bushes. “They're not growing as close to the ground as they look,” Joe remarked. “We could crawl in underneath and check that stone, if you want to.”
“It'll be a scratchy job,” Frank said, âbut I think we'd better.”
He stooped and crept into an opening at the base of the bushes. Joe followed. To their surprise, if they kept low, the branches barely touched them.
Inside the bramble patch it was dim, but sunlight filtered through and dappled the steep slope. A foot or so below them, amid the dark branches, the water lapped softly. Near the center of the bushes, they came to a huge slab of rock resting against the hillside with its base hidden in the water.
Suddenly Frank gripped his brother's arm and pointed to the top edge of the rock. A narrow opening lay just above it!
Quick examination showed other gaps between the slab and the hill.
Behind the rock was an opening!
Behind the rock was an opening!
“The tunnel!” exclaimed Frank. “This must be it!”
“But how do you get in?”
The brothers pulled hard at the edge of the slab. Suddenly, with a swish of the water, the big stone pivoted out about a foot.
Hearts pounding, the boys gazed into a dark tunnel with water gleaming on the bottom.
Joe gave a low two-toned whistle which Chet knew as a signal and in a few minutes the others stood with the Hardys at the mouth of the channel.
Bob and Dick could hardly keep from shouting for joy, but all remained silent.
They shone their lights into the narrow opening and saw that the gap behind the stone was roughly twelve feet high by six feet wide. Four feet above their heads was a narrow wooden catwalk built on supports which rested on the tunnel bottom. Just inside the entrance was a crude set of wooden rungs leading up to the catwalk.
Suddenly from deep inside the mountain came a high-pitched cry for help. The boys froze as it quavered and died. Once more it came. Then silence. The listeners exchanged anxious looks. Had it been Dr. Foster?
Frank's eyes narrowed with decision. “Chet,” he said crisply, “you drive to the nearest phone and call Chief Collig. Tell him the rescue won't wait till tomorrow. We'll meet you and the police at the shack in two hours.”
“Take the convertible,” put in Joe.
“Meanwhile we'll case the layout,” said Frank, “the way Dad asked us to.”
“Okay,” said Chet, and promptly started crawling out of the shrubbery. “Good luck,” he called back hoarsely as the others began climbing the ladder to the catwalk.
They saw that the side walls of the tunnel were made of shale, clay, and limestone. The dim light coming through the narrow opening behind them enabled the four explorers to see for a distance of several feet. But directly ahead the tunnel turned sharply and was lost in darkness.
The boys waited on the catwalk while Bob, who was last, reached out and easily pulled the big stone shut again. “It's balanced on a pivot,” he thought.
Then they flicked on their flashlights and cautiously followed Joe, who was in the lead.
At the first turn he stopped. “Don't need lights. Lanterns ahead,” he whispered to Frank, who passed the information down the line.
Walking under the flickering oil lanterns which had been strung along the passage, the boys felt keenly the danger of their position. Suppose someone came toward them around the next bend or into the tunnel from behind? There was no place to hide!
Hearts pounding, they rounded the second bend and stopped. “The lock!” Dick whispered.
Before them was a crude wooden structure nearly as high as the catwalk. It had two doorlike wings made of planks which met in the center. When the wings were closed, as they were now, the water was impounded. Behind the lock, the ditch was dry.
“There's the gadget that operates it,” Bob whispered. He indicated an iron wheel at the side of the tunnel. It resembled the brake wheel of a railway freight car.
The four continued quietly along the wooden walk. Suddenly, when about to turn another bend, they heard footsteps approaching. The searchers stopped dead.
“Into the ditch!” Frank exclaimed softly, and swung himself down into the channel. Noiselessly the other three did the same. They flattened themselves against the rock wall under the catwalk. The footsteps came nearer and passed overhead.
The boys peered out and saw the man's back in the light of a lantern.
Sailor Hawkins!
Briefly he inspected the lock, then returned along the catwalk. The four lifted themselves out of the sluiceway as soon as the old seaman had disappeared.
Sailor Hawkins!
Briefly he inspected the lock, then returned along the catwalk. The four lifted themselves out of the sluiceway as soon as the old seaman had disappeared.
“That cavern where the men hide out can't be far ahead!” Frank whispered excitedly.
He and his companions moved forward again. In a few moments they came to a small cave on the left. Joe poked his head in for a look around, but withdrew it with a start.
“Skulls!” he whispered. “The hermit's supply room!”
Finally the boys and the engineers reached a cleft in the rock wall of the passage. Its floor, starting on a level with the catwalk, sloped upward for several feet. Then the crack expanded into a deep cavern, dimly lighted by lanterns.
From the darkness of the cleft, the four could see another fissure which slanted upward into the far wall of the big chamber.
Frank pointed to it. “That shaft must be the one which leads to the fork,” he whispered. On one side of it was a kiln and on the other a workbench. Stacked against the wall were boxes of supplies and across the chamber was a group of cots.
“Quiet!” Bob warned. “There's a man!”
From an opening in the right wall strode Sailor Hawkins. He was carrying a plank, which he took to the bench and began sawing. The blade bit into the wood with swift, efficient strokes, and the boys observed that the seaman was cutting a board the same length and width as the planks in the lock.
“I'll bet Hawkins built the lock,” Bob whispered.
“Look!” Frank whispered. “Here comes the hermit!”
The gaunt figure was staggering down the shaft from the mountaintop, his arms laden with split cordwood. He dropped the wood on the floor and walked to one corner of the room, where he sat on a box and leaned against the rock wall.
“Look!” Joe whispered, and pointed to the opening from which Hawkins had come.
A frail, slightly stooped man with white hair stood there uncertainly. Then he walked to the kiln, opened the oven, took out something and examined it. Beside the kiln stood a wheelbarrow, heaped with what looked like mud.
The hermit stood up and approached the old man in a deferential manner.
“That must be Dr. Foster!” Frank said in an excited whisper.
Joe nodded. “What's he doing?” he asked.
Frank shook his head, and Bob whispered back, “I don't know, but it looks as if he's testing something in the kilnâmaybe that mud.”
“Perhaps the gang believes there are mineral deposits in the valley,” Frank said softly. “No wonder they don't want the water to rise there.”
“Think Foster is a member of the gang?” Dick asked.
“I doubt it,” Frank replied, keeping his voice down. “He doesn't look like the sort of man who would willingly get involved in anything crooked.”
The fire door below the kiln had been opened, and the man of the mountain was stoking it with wood. A cloud of smoke poured from the galvanized-iron stack which led from the kiln into the shaftway beyond.
“There's the source of the mysterious smoke!” Joe whispered.
Suddenly two men walked into the cavern from the side opening. One, stocky and surly-looking, had red hair. The other, who was smaller, wore a rumpled business suit spotted with clay.
Frank started. “The first man is Kleng!” he muttered to Bob and Dick. “The other is the stranger who was with Kleng and Sweeper the night they set me adrift!”
The two men joined Dr. Foster and stared at the kiln. “What about it?” the stranger said impatiently. “Is it cesium?”
Dr. Foster turned to the man fearfully. “I've told you, Mr. Stoper,” he began, “I need more time to make theâ”
“Time!” Stoper barked. “You want me to knock you down again? Nobody hears you when you yell, you know,” he added with an ugly smile. He stubbed his finger into the scientist's chest. “I want resultsâand fast! Get it?”
“Take it easy,” Kleng protested. “We need the old man.”
“I gave you four days to produce results,” Stoper said. “You've got till midnight tomorrow. After that, the syndicate needs
nobody.
They pull out.” His eyes narrowed coldly. “They'll make it rough on you, Kleng, for wasting their time.”
nobody.
They pull out.” His eyes narrowed coldly. “They'll make it rough on you, Kleng, for wasting their time.”
The plumber's face glistened with sweat. “We're doing the best we can.”
Stoper looked at his watch. “Where are Sweeper and Green? Why aren't they back?”
“I don't know. Yesterday they had errands to do. This morning they were to go to my house and get some money from my wife. They should have been here an hour ago.”
Stoper paced nervously. “I don't like it. Maybe I ought to close this operation right now. Finish off the old man andâ”
“No, no, Ben!” Kleng said. “Wait till tomorrow.”
The hidden watchers barely breathed as Stoper scowled, considering what to do. Finally he said, “Okayâone more day. Cesium's worth it.”
Cesium! Ben!
The Hardys exchanged knowing glances. The parts of their puzzle were beginning to form a clear picture. Cesium was the precious metal the gang hoped to extract from the ore in the valley. The boys knew it was important in the production of photoelectric cells and transistors. And Stoper was Ben, the sender of the telegram Kleng had received.
The Hardys exchanged knowing glances. The parts of their puzzle were beginning to form a clear picture. Cesium was the precious metal the gang hoped to extract from the ore in the valley. The boys knew it was important in the production of photoelectric cells and transistors. And Stoper was Ben, the sender of the telegram Kleng had received.
“We'd better get back,” Frank whispered.
The four watchers slipped noiselessly from their hiding place and started back along the catwalk. As they rounded the first turn, they stopped short, too startled to speak! Striding toward them was the stranger who had helped Hawkins carry the groceries! Before the boys could move, a revolver gleamed in his hand.
“All right,” he said harshly. “Back you go!”
CHAPTER XIX
A Surprising Explanation
KLENG AND Ben Stoper stared as the Hardy boys and the engineers were herded into the cavern.
“Where'd you find them?” Stoper demanded of the man who held the gun.
“Just outsideâon the catwalk,” he replied.
Kleng's face hardened. “How'd you locate the tunnel?” he barked.
“We knew it was hidden by brambles,” Joe replied. As he held the men's attention with the story of the twig on the barrel stave, Frank quietly sized up the situation.
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