  Taking time only to replace the map in the filing cabinet, Jack and Mr. Livingston followed War and Willie outside the office. “What’s this all about?” Jack demanded. “You’ll see,” Willie promised, leading the way down the trail. The night was dark, with only a sliver of a moon to light the path. Though the Scouts had flashlights, they avoided using them. The mountain mist swirled about them as they crept through a tunnel of trees to an outcropping of rock which gave an unobstructed view. Below, but invisible, lay the valley. “Why did you fellows bring us here?” Jack demanded, as Willie and War paused. “What is there to see?” “Wait,” War advised. Even as he spoke, Mr. Livingston and Jack were startled to catch the flash of a light. It appeared to come from another rock almost level with them, jutting out from the mountain side. The beam went on and off in a series of flashes. “Code!” Jack muttered. “It’s code, all right,” Willie agreed, “but not Morse. Nothing you can read.” As the four watched, there was an answering series of flashes from below. The light signals seemed to come from a level of perhaps a third of the distance to the valley. “What does it mean?” Jack demanded. “Who is signaling?” “Rhodes at this end,” War informed him. “Willie and I learned that much before we came to the office.” “There are no houses down there—nothing but trail,” Mr. Livingston said. “Can it be—” “That he’s signaling Carlos, the bandit?” War supplied eagerly. “That’s the way Willie and I doped it out.” “I was thinking of that possibility,” Mr. Livingston admitted. “Rhodes isn’t bothered by Corning’s disappearance. I’m sure of that. He may have plotted it, though I hate to think so.” “He’d do anything to stay at the mine as engineer,” Willie said grimly. “He isn’t making the slightest effort to trace Mr. Corning.” “It seems that way to me,” Mr. Livingston nodded. “Of course, unless the authorities will undertake a search, there’s not much that can be done.” “Rhodes must know the hide-out of those bandits,” Jack asserted. “Shall we breeze him now?” “No, let’s not let him know that we saw him signaling,” the Scout leader decided after a slight hesitation. “He’d tell us nothing. We’ll learn far more by appearing dumb, and keeping an alert watch.” After the signaling had ceased, the Scouts waited until Rhodes had returned to his cottage. Then rejoining Ken at their own camp, they discussed the strange flashes. Reluctantly, the Scouts agreed with Mr. Livingston that it would be folly to set off into wild country in search of a bandit camp. “With more definite information, we may be able to get the authorities to step in,” the Scout leader suggested. “I propose that we disregard Rhodes’ order to leave, and stay here a few days longer to see what we can learn.” “If Rhodes was signaling Carlos, it’s a cinch he plotted Mr. Corning’s kidnapping,” Jack speculated. “But how can we prove it?” When no one answered, he abruptly arose from the fire. “Phillipe may be our answer,” he asserted. “I’m going to try once more to talk to him.” Pulling on a heavy jacket, he swung down a dark path toward the miner’s hut. He had walked only a short distance when a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows. Rhodes stood there, blocking the trail. “Out rather late, aren’t you?” the engineer asked. “Just taking a walk,” Jack muttered. “Better walk back to your camp.” Jack hesitated, ready to give argument. But he recalled Mr. Livingston’s advice that it would be wise to make a show of cooperation. “Okay,” he agreed, turning around. “This mountain air is too chilly for comfort anyway.” “It’s unsafe to go wandering around after dark,” Rhodes continued, walking with Jack. “Someone might misjudge your motives and take a shot at you.” “You go about though?” “That’s different,” the engineer answered. “I’m armed and the miners know me.” He walked with Jack to the camp, and there left him. “It’s useless,” Jack reported his failure to the other Scouts. “Rhodes will have this camp watched all night.” “We may as well turn in,” Mr. Livingston advised. “Something may develop tomorrow.” The Scouts spent a comfortable night in their sleeping bags. As they were cleaning up the next morning, Rhodes strode down the path. His quick glance noted that no preparation had been made for departure. “You’ll be pulling out soon?” he demanded. “Hadn’t figured on it,” Mr. Livingston replied. “I told you yesterday that you can’t remain here. Company rules.” “We’re not leaving until we learn if my friend is still alive.” “You can’t do him any good by staying here,” Rhodes said, his eyes narrowing. “Return to Bogota. If there is a ransom demand, I’ll notify you at once.” “We plan to stay another day or so.” “Impossible!” “Why is it impossible? What reason do you have for wanting us to leave at once?” “Why, no reason,” the engineer replied. “I told you it’s a company rule. You refuse to leave?” “I’m afraid so.” “I’ll have you driven out!” Rhodes exclaimed, losing his temper. “I’ll show you who is in charge here. I’ll—” His tirade was interrupted by the arrival of Phillipe. The miner’s grimy face was pale beneath his broad, floppy hat. “Come quick, Senor!” he urged. “Trouble in the pit?” “Si, Senor, the men refuse to dig. They say it is not safe—danger of a slide.” “That’s rot! There’s no danger!” Rhodes fumed. “I’ll have a look.” Temporarily forgetting his feud with the Scouts, he went quickly with Phillipe. Curious to learn what was happening, Mr. Livingston and the Explorers followed. Miners had clustered at the top of the pit, chattering excitedly in their own tongue. As Rhodes came up, they showed him a crack which had developed in the rock wall above the big hole. “It’s nothing,” Rhodes assured them. “Back to your digging!” The miners sullenly refused to budge. Rhodes whipped out a revolver. “There is no danger!” he shouted. “Get back to work!” Unwillingly, the miners picked up their tools and slowly descended into the pit. Rhodes remained above, his revolver held in readiness. Mechanically, the miners worked, now and then raising their eyes fearfully to the towering rock above them. As their crowbars failed to dislodge even powdery dust from above, they relaxed somewhat. Presently a pocket of emeralds was uncovered. In great excitement, Rhodes rushed down to examine the gems. All were small and of poor color. “This vein is playing out!” he exclaimed wrathfully. Pocketing the gems, he started to climb the rough rock steps. Watching from above, the Scouts saw him halt to re-examine the emeralds. “Rhodes seems determined to get everything he can from this pit without loss of time,” Mr. Livingston remarked in a low tone. Jack nodded. He had raised his eyes to the wall of rock above the engineer. Suddenly he was struck with horror! A new crack, much deeper than the other, had formed. Even as he gazed in sick fascination, it widened and moved horizontally, like a runner in a silk stocking. Jarred to a realization of the danger, he shouted a hoarse warning to the engineer below. “A slide! Run for your life!” Rhodes heard, but he seemed rooted to where he stood. As he jerked his eyes up to stare at the towering wall, the rock began to move. With a choked, terrified cry, the engineer leaped wildly up the steps. For a moment, it appeared that he might make it safely. The great main mass of rock and dirt fell behind him, sending up a cloud of dust. But Rhodes was caught by the edge of the slide. A huge rock felled him. Clawing and fighting, he was buried beneath the debris. |
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