Meanwhile, what had become of Hal Kenyon?

He had had a most remarkable adventure, and connected with it was an equally remarkable discovery.

During the search for the missing bag of specimens Hal and Frank Bowler worked in adjoining divisions of the territory that was being covered. As they finished the search on their divisions they met at the lower waterfall. They gazed a short while into the tumbling water and then moved down stream until they could hear each other’s voices.

“I don’t believe we’ll find the bag,” were Frank’s first words. “I don’t believe anybody’ll ever find it. I bet it’s in the deep part o’ the river where you couldn’t wade.”

“Maybe it’s on the other side,” suggested Hal. “There’s quite a little piece of ground over there along the river bank. It’s pretty steep, but we could walk on it if we’re careful.”

“Let’s go over there and hunt,” Frank proposed.

“All right. Come on.”

They continued on down the river to a wide shallow stony place, and there took off their shoes and waded over. Arrived on the opposite side, they put on their shoes again, and as they were doing this Hal said:

“It’ll be getting dark before long and we don’t want to have to walk along this steep place when we can’t see plain. Let’s go up to the other end, at the fall, and work down this way.”

“All right,” agreed Frank.

So they picked their way over stones and through bushes and patches of stunted fir trees, sometimes finding it necessary to hold onto a bush or a rock in order to keep from slipping or losing their balance and plunging into the river. But they reached the cataract and then halted again to look around them.

There was little more than standing-room for them at this point. This standing-room, however, was level and comfortable. It was close to the fall, which proved even more magnificent from this side than from the other. The rocks were piled high and wonderfully poised, and the water fell from a lofty height and roared thunderously on the rocky bed in the deep basin below.

Both of the boys had a great desire to talk as they gazed on the beauty of this scenery, but the noise of the falls drowned out their voices. So they had to content themselves with gazing and pointing their fingers and nodding their heads eagerly. As they stood there they made a new and interesting discovery that caused them to forget their purpose in crossing the river.

At the near edge of the cataract the downpour of water was extremely thin, so that the boys could look behind. Hal’s notice was first to be attracted to this peculiarity. Soon he was standing as close to the fall as he could get with safety and was gazing wonderingly into a cavernous space beyond.

Observing his attitude, Frank stepped near and looked over his shoulder. Then Hal put his lips close to his companion’s ear and shouted:

“Bad, there’s a cave back there!”

Frank nodded understandingly, and Hal continued in the same manner as before:

“Do you see that thing on the floor of the cave? It looks like a leather bag. Maybe it’s the one we’re looking for.”

“It can’t be,” Frank shouted in Hal’s ear. “How would it get there?”

Kenyon pointed to a huge projecting rock just over their heads.

“It might have struck that and glanced off through the water,” he replied.

Hal was now convinced that they had discovered the object of their search. His first impulse was to run back and inform Dr. Byrd, but a boyish ambition made him hesitate, and that hesitation was perhaps to be blamed for much of the trouble that followed. As he lingered, this thought came to him:

“Wouldn’t it be glorious if we could get behind the waterfall, explore the cave, and come out and report our double discovery to the owner of Lakefarm and all the boys?” The idea was so tempting that he was unable to give it up. The ledge behind the fall was about nine feet from the edge of the flat rocky precipice on which they stood. Now, if he only had a plank nine or ten feet long, he could easily bridge the chasm and walk through the thin spray of water right into this wonderful cave.

Instinctively he looked about him for something that would serve as a bridge, and what was his astonishment to discover the very article he was wishing for. Projecting from a thicket near by was the end of a piece of lumber. He went over and pulled and found it loose. It was a plank twelve inches wide and ten feet long.

“My!” was his exclamation, drowned by the waterfall. “We’re not the first to find this place. Somebody else is using that cave for something and he’s had this plank here to cross over on.”

This certainly seemed to be the natural and only logical explanation of the presence of the heavy piece of lumber in the bushes. At least it would serve the desired purpose, and Hal prepared to thrust it across the chasm so that an end would rest on each ledge of rock.

Frank understood quickly what his companion had in mind and stood ready to help him. The plank was heavy, but Hal was strong, and with a well-calculated effort he placed it in position and kept his balance.

“Now you hold this end while I cross over,” he screamed into Frank’s ear. “But don’t you try to come over.”

Frank nodded eagerly. He had no intention of obeying, but said nothing. He got down on his knees and placed his hands on the plank. There really was no need of this, but it was a natural request for Hal to make, as he would feel safer with a pair of hands steadying the unanchored bridge.

It was now dusk in the caÑon and rapidly growing dark. Probably this is one reason why the doings of these two boys were not observed by any of the other members of the searching company. However, the view of most of them was shut off by the high bluffs and rocks near the waterfall and the rest were at a considerable distance away or in hollows or depressions or beyond growths of timber.

Hal stepped onto the plank and moved out over the chasm toward the thin spray and the cave beyond. Meanwhile Frank’s brain was working rapidly. He was thinking of the glory that Hal was winning and he was losing. Why should they not share the glory alike? As soon as his companion reached the cave he also would cross on the plank, walk right through the roaring waterfall and maybe carry back the coveted treasure in his own hands.

“Oh, wouldn’t that be great!” he exclaimed exultingly. “How the other kids’d look at me. And if any of ’em got too fresh, I’d just clout ’em on the jaw.”

Frank actually executed the vicious swing of “clouting” some youngster as he spoke. The result was thrilling, but not what the youthful terrorizer would have wished. He was half kneeling, half sitting in an awkward and cramping position, and as he swung his fist on an imaginary jaw, he lost his balance, and his feet slipped from under him.

One heel struck the plank violently, and over it tipped, then with a swing, slipped under the waterfall and was shot down into the chasm. And Bad almost went with it, but he caught himself at the edge of the precipice. For a moment he lay there and looked over. Then he remembered Hal. He was gone. He must have followed the plank into the whirling pool below.

In an ague of horror he crawled back a few yards and staggered to his feet; then with one terrified look behind him, he started on a wild run along the steep shore, sobbing hysterically as he ran:

“Oh, my! Oh, my! I’ve killed Hal! I’ve killed Hal! Oh, what will I do? What will I do? I’ll be hung, I know!”

He arrived at the place where they had crossed and dropped down and pulled off his shoes and stockings. As he was thus occupied he continued his fearful forebodings:

“Pepper said some of us bad boys’d end on the gallows, and I know he meant me. He could look right through me. I always felt it. He’s the first one to call me ‘Bad,’ and then the kids did.

“Yes, I know I’ll be hung if—no, I won’t either. Nobody saw us. I won’t tell. I’ll keep it to myself, and nobody’ll ever find out.”

He crossed back to the other side and in the dusk saw the boys gathering a few hundred feet away. Mr. Porter had called them a few minutes before with a whistle blast, but Frank had not heard it.

Still resolved to guard his terrible secret, Frank hastened to join the other Scouts. Fortunately it was now almost dark and none of them could see his face plainly, or they would have noticed how pale he was. As a rule he was talkative, but now he did not speak at all, except to give the shortest possible answers when addressed. One or two of the boys, observing his unusual manner, asked him what was the matter and he made no reply.

All the way back to the school he walked by himself, lagging a little behind much of the time, as if tired, in order that he might not be forced to talk. He was afraid to talk. It was all he could do to keep from crying.

By the time they reached the school he had lost his nerve and decided that he must tell somebody all about it. He could not bear to keep the secret any longer. But no suitable opportunity offered itself to speak to the doctor or Mr. Frankland. He might have taken one of the boys aside and told his story to him, but Frank could not remember one of his schoolmates whom he had not threatened to “clean up” or “clout in the jaw” at one time or another. Even Bun his brother, whom he had threatened with a “paste on the blinker” only the day before, might censure him and tell him he ought to be hanged or be sent to jail.

So Frank did not tell his story when his strongest impulse to sob it out possessed him. He went with the rest of the boys into the wash room and then into the dining room and ate his supper in silence. His face was not so pale now, but his peculiar manner was observed by several. However, it was thought that he was dejected, as were many others, over the fate of Hal Kenyon, and nobody embarrassed him with questions.

After supper the boys were sent off to bed. Mr. Frankland and Mr. Porter usually had charge of this “good night” watch and slept in the dormitory, but on this occasion Mrs. Byrd and the matronly cook superintended affairs. Once or twice Frank almost yielded to an impulse to confide in the doctor’s wife, but his general dislike for both girls and women held him back.

Frank and Byron slept together. Dr. Byrd had not spared his money in constructing the buildings of this mountain school, and for every two boys there was a separate room, neatly and comfortably fitted.

They were all outside rooms, with a window for each, all on the first floor, so that it would be easy for the boys to escape in case of fire.

Byron was tired and could hardly keep his eyes open until he got into bed. He was so tired that he hardly noticed the unusual silence of his brother; or if he did, he attributed it to the same cause that made him sleepy. As for Frank, he never was more wide awake and had no idea of sleeping. He sat down on a chair and began to undress slowly, but there was a reason in his slowness. He was watching Bun constantly out of the corner of his eye and his nervousness was greatly relieved when he saw his brother fall into bed and to sleep almost instantly.

Then Frank stopped undressing and sat quietly for a few minutes watching the boy in bed. Soon the latter’s heavy breathing announced that he was fast asleep, and the young watcher drew on his trousers again. He worked rapidly now, drawing on his stockings and shoes, and putting on his coat and hat. Then he moved toward the window, which was open in accordance with the health ideas of Dr. Byrd.

With another hasty glance at his slumbering brother, Frank put both legs over the window sill and dropped to the ground, a distance of only a few feet. Then, like a flash, he straightened up and ran over the lawn toward the road.

The moon was shining and the boy concealed his flight as much as possible by keeping under a row of balsam poplars along the east edge of the campus. After leaving the shadow of these, he found it necessary to break into the open, and he ran down the road toward the river with all his speed.

It was a wild-looking figure that raced along the trail toward Mummy CaÑon that night. Half a mile from the school a small animal shot out from a clump of junipers and darted across his path just behind him. Believing it to be a wildcat, he doubled his speed, too much frightened to think of stopping, although his hat was whiffed off by the wind.

His hair was rather long and it was blown in disorder. Like a scary horse he shied at every large rock, dark hollow, or ghost-like stunted spruce or fir.

Up hill and down he ran, through ravine and along the precipice of a hollow known as “Baby Gorge.” Colorado nights are cool, even in the summer, and he did not become overheated. A few times he was forced to stop and walk for want of breath, but as soon as he recovered, on he went at the best speed he could make. He was a sturdy youngster and stood the test.

At last he reached Flathead Pass and hastened through, over a ledge of rock along the bank of the river. Another quarter of a mile, and he was able to see the lights of the lanterns of the hunters for the lost boy. On he ran, and as he neared the party ahead, he realized tremblingly that they were near the fatal waterfall. Now he began to wonder what he should do. He had had no plan in mind when he started out; all he could say to himself was that he must be present and watch the search. He did not intend to reveal himself, but wanted to be near when the body of Hal was taken out of the water.

Frank approached as near to the men by the waterfall as he thought safe. He stopped behind a clump of bushes and peered around to watch proceedings. Presently the doctor and his companions moved away from the cataract and stopped within a few feet of the bushes, and there the boy heard their excited discussion regarding the cries that seemed to issue from the falling water. Then he saw them cut a club for each and advance again toward the place of mystery.

The watching boy was intensely thrilled by what he had heard.

The suggestion that possibly the screams were those of a panther or a lynx added a new element of fear to the situation. But as he heard the strange sound repeated again and again, he dismissed all thought of a wild animal.

“It’s Hal’s ghost, I know; it can’t be anything else,” he chattered; and without knowing why, he left his place of concealment and started toward the waterfall. A dozen paces from the men he stopped, fearful of announcing his presence, yet half hoping he would be discovered. Just then Dr. Byrd turned and saw him.