“HOW can we stop the truck if it tries to come through?” Kathleen demanded eagerly. “What is your idea, Judy?”

“You gave it to me yourself, when you mentioned dropping nails on the road,” Judy answered. “That wouldn’t do the trick, I’m sure, but I know what will! This rubber door mat!”

She stooped to pick up the dusty “Welcome” mat. As Kathleen and her aunt gazed at the object in bewilderment, she hastened to reveal what she had in mind.

“We can spear the nails through the mat so they’ll stand upright! When the tires pass over them, they can’t miss.”

“That should do it!” Miss Meadows approved.

“Judy, you’re a gem!” laughed Kathleen. “What a brain!”

“No brain, just a memory,” Judy corrected. “I recall hearing a filling station serviceman relate how vandals once damaged big truck tires that way. I’m sure it will work if we can do it!”

“I’ll get the nails,” Miss Meadows said, starting away. In a moment she returned with an assortment in a tin can. As fast as they could, the three punctured the rubber mat, forcing the nails through so that their sharp points were upright.

“Listen!” cried Judy suddenly.

She had heard the roar of a powerful motor starting far down the private road.

“It’s the truck!” Kathleen exclaimed. “It’s coming, and we don’t have half enough nails in this mat!”

“There will be enough if the tires hit it,” Judy declared. “The important thing is to get it placed, and fast! Come on!”

Without waiting for Kathleen or her aunt, she raced for the entrance to the private road.

She could not see the big truck which was hidden by the curves of the rutty thoroughfare, but she could tell from the roar of the engine, that it was coming as fast as it could climb the steep slope. Evidently, Diethelm had warned the hi-jackers, and knowing that delay would be fatal, they were making a run for it!

Judy had no time to deliberate where she would lay the mat. She dropped it on the right hand side of the road, directly across an old truck track.

If the driver saw the mat, he could swerve to miss it. She was depending though upon the sharp curve, figuring that the truck would come around it fast, and that the big transport would roll over the nails before they could be seen. Kathleen and Miss Meadows already had screened themselves behind the bushes lining the private road. Judy scarcely had time to slide in beside them, when the massive transport careened around the curve.

The front wheel struck a deep rut and the truck veered from the middle of the road.

“They’re going to miss it!” Kathleen moaned, gripping Judy’s arm so hard that it hurt.

But the next moment, the driver brought the truck back onto its course. Apparently, he had failed to see the studded mat lying directly in the path. Both front and rear tires rolled over the long, sharp nails.

Breathlessly, the three watchers waited. Nothing seemed to happen.

When the huge truck reached the entrance to the private road, there was a loud hissing of air. The transport began to wobble crazily. First the front tire went down and then the one at the right rear.

“We’ve done it!” Judy laughed jubilantly. “We’ve stopped them!”

“But for how long?” Miss Meadows speculated. “Don’t move, girls! Keep hidden! Those men are in an ugly mood.”

The two hi-jackers had leaped from the cab of the crippled truck. As they beheld the disaster which had befallen them, a car came up the hill, pulling alongside. It was the Forest Service automobile, driven by Lowell Diethelm. By mere inches, the tires missed the nail-studded rubber mat.

“Now what?” the ranger demanded furiously. “Can’t you keep going and get out of here?”

“Keep going?” one of the truckers snarled. “On rims? We’ll have to abandon the cargo.” Diethelm swung open the door of the coupe. “Get in!” he directed. “We’ll try to get over the state line.”

The possibility of the two hi-jackers transferring to the ranger’s car had not occurred to Judy. Now, convinced that her scheme had failed, she involuntarily started to leave her hiding place.

Miss Meadows held her back. “No, Judy!” she warned. “We’ve done all we can! Those men are dangerous. Let them go.”

“Let them go,” Judy half moaned. “Oh, this is awful! After stopping that big truck, to fail so miserably!”

“We saved the cargo at any rate,” Kathleen reminded her. “Furthermore, Diethelm hasn’t driven off yet! I don’t think he will either!”

The latter excited comment was made as she saw two Forest Service cars sweep down the main highway.

Before Lowell Diethelm could pull away, the other two automobiles had blocked the main highway.

“Our fish are netted now!” Kathleen shouted gleefully. “Who says your idea failed, Judy? It was a grand one!”

No longer fearful, the three came out of hiding. Six rangers, two of whom the Scouts knew by sight, had surrounded Lowell Diethelm’s car. They had their revolvers trained on the two hi-jackers, but Diethelm was trying to put up a convincing story.

“I captured these birds red-handed,” he said glibly. “I was trying to get ’em to headquarters, when they over-powered me. I’m sure glad you fellows came along.”

“Yeah?” dryly inquired Ranger Wentz. “Sounds pretty phoney, Diethelm. You’ll have to think up a better one than that to tell the chief.”

By this time, Judy, Kathleen and Miss Meadows had reached the ranger cars. As rapidly as they could talk, they told the Forest Service men exactly what had occurred.

“You’re the girl who called over the radio phone, aren’t you?” one of the rangers asked Judy.

“That’s right.”

“She stopped the truck too, by putting nails on the road,” Kathleen added, very proud of her friend. “What a ‘welcome’ that mat proved to be for the hi-jackers!”

Within five minutes, the rangers were reenforced by state highway patrolmen, who had responded to an alert. If there had been any previous doubt as to the identity of the two hi-jackers, it then was dispelled. State highwaymen definitely identified Joe Pompilli, and recognized his companion as Porky Burns, a hi-jacker, who had operated in three states.

“Five or six drivers work this area,” a ranger told Judy. “Joe’s the head of the outfit though. We may never catch the others, but now that we have him, the gang will fall apart.”

“Joe was pretty reckless to keep working this territory after he knew he was wanted,” Judy remarked. “Especially after that truck accident, when Kathy and I patched him up.”

“Joe operates that way,” the ranger answered. “He was dead sure of himself. First, he could depend upon our double-crossing friend, Diethelm, to tip him off as to road blocks.”

“This private road to the cave must have been used in emergencies too,” Judy added. “My aunt saw the truck headlights on one of the nights that the state highway patrol had put up its road block.”

“Sure,” the ranger agreed, “it’s plain enough that Diethelm tipped ’em off regularly. That’s probably why they chanced making one last haul before they moved to another locality. Pompilli had taken pains to make himself known as a regular trucker on the road, especially at Silverton and Grove City where he was a good spender. He figured only the state highway patrol could cause him any trouble, and he took that chance.”

The state patrolmen requested Kathleen and Judy to accompany them to headquarters to make sworn statements as to their knowledge of what had happened. Eager to pin evidence on the two men, they went willingly. They were questioned at length, and in turn learned considerably more about how Joe Pompilli and his gang had operated.

“Without Diethelm’s help, we’d have cleaned them out weeks ago,” a patrolman told the Scouts. “He’s made a clean breast of his part in the mess to the Chief forester.”

“Diethelm has confessed?” Kathleen asked in disbelief.

“Yes, he knew we had him dead to rights anyway. Matter of fact, he’s rather remorseful, the boys tell me. Diethelm’s a queer duck. It seems he made a brilliant record in college and had a fine career ahead of him as a forest ranger. But on his first assignment, something went wrong. He ran into personal trouble with his superior, and was reprimanded. He couldn’t take it. So he brooded and figured on a way to get even.”

“Then the help he gave the hi-jackers was to even an old score with another ranger?” Judy inquired.

“Not entirely. It made him susceptible to suggestion, shall we say. Diethelm was a weak character. He wanted easy money. Joe Pompilli offered it to him, and so he sold himself cheap.”

“Diethelm even accused the girls in our Scout Camp of being careless with fire,” Kathleen remarked indignantly.

“Oh, that matter came up,” the highway patrolman said, reminded of it by her remark. “Diethelm admitted to the chief ranger that on two occasions he started small fires as a diversion. He wanted to keep rangers and patrolmen occupied to give the hi-jackers a better chance to slide their stolen cargo through.”

“Then the Scouts can’t be blamed for that fire?”

“No, they’ve been cleared.”

“Well, that’s a relief!” Kathleen laughed.

“There’s one thing that puzzles me,” Judy said thoughtfully. “When my aunt first moved into Calico Cottage, someone telephoned—”

“I can tell you about that too,” the patrolman broke in. “Krumm’s cottage stood idle for quite a spell. Now and then, Diethelm or members of Joe’s gang would use the telephone. The cottage gave a clear view of the entrance to the private road. A couple of times, we think Joe and his truckers spent a night at the cottage. Naturally, after your aunt moved in, they had to abandon using it.”

“Maybe that explains the ghost!” Kathleen exclaimed.

Judy, however, shook her head. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “At least I haven’t heard that Joe Pompilli played a flute. Our ghost is an entirely different matter.”

By the time the two girls returned to Calico Cottage, it was well after eleven o’clock. Miss Meadows anxiously awaited their return. She listened attentively to their long account of what had happened in town.

“I’m glad that’s over and we won’t be bothered by weird lights on the road any more,” she declared fervently. “If I weren’t so worried about Bart, I could begin to enjoy my vacation here.”

“Bart?” Judy repeated, startled. The excitement of the morning had washed all thought of the young milkman from her mind.

“I took it upon myself to telephone his landlady,” Miss Meadows went on. “Bart left his room early yesterday morning, and he’s not been seen since!”

“That might not mean anything serious, Aunt Mattie.”

“I talked with the other milkman this morning while you were in town,” Miss Meadows continued. “He thinks as I do, that Bart went into the cave.”

“Maybe he went down into the cavern before those hi-jackers parked themselves in the entranceway,” Kathleen speculated. “Perhaps he didn’t dare come out until they left. He may be waiting somewhere in the dark passageway even now.”

“That is a possibility,” agreed Miss Meadows, instantly becoming more cheerful. She reached for her hat and jacket. “I’ll go down there now, and let him know that it’s safe to come out.”