“Isn’t it about time for the show to start?”

The boys had taken a long nap after dinner as they had determined to stay awake all night in an effort to accomplish something toward clearing up the mystery. Since dark they had been sitting in the little cabin not speaking above a whisper and it was Jack who asked the question.

“Five minutes to twelve,” Bob replied.

He had hardly whispered the words when a soft but distinct rap, repeated four times, was heard.

“S-s—h,” Bob cautioned.

For a moment they waited and then the raps were repeated.

“Where is it?” Jack whispered.

“Sounds like it was on the head of my bed.”

“On the wall you mean.”

“Maybe, it’s hard to tell.”

Three more times the raps came and then a weird hollow groan followed seemingly in the room. At the same time the mysterious spot of light sprang into view directly over Jack’s bed.

“They’re giving us a little variation this time anyway,” Jack whispered.

After remaining stationary for two or three minutes during which time it seemed to increase in brightness, the spot began to slowly move toward the ceiling. When near the top of the wall it moved to the right about two feet and then began to descend and finally came to rest in the place where it first appeared.

“Of all the fool—” Jack began but stopped as the raps started again.

“Come on,” Bob whispered. “It’s time we were off.”

They had been sitting side by side in the center of the room so that there was a clear space between the window at the foot of Bob’s bed and the wall opposite. Now they quickly got down on their hands and knees and crept across the floor until they reached the end of the room close by the head of the bed. They had removed the netting from the window in that end of the cabin and in another moment they were both crouching close to the ground outside. The night was intensely dark as the moon had set early in the evening and a south wind had covered the sky with thick clouds so that not a star was visible. For a long moment they listened. The heavy boughs over head sighed and moaned as they swayed in the breeze but no other sound reached them.

“Keep close behind me and don’t make a sound,” Bob cautioned as he got to his feet and started.

“It’s dark enough to cut,” Jack replied. “But you can’t lose me.”

Noiselessly they stole through the thick forest, their feet making not the slightest sound on the ground, thickly carpeted with pine needles. Every few steps they stopped to listen. Once a sharp crack brought them to a sudden halt and they heard a large animal as it bounded off between the trees.

“Only a deer,” Bob whispered.

“Sure, a ghost doesn’t make that kind of a noise,” Jack chuckled. “But aren’t we round pretty near far enough?”

“We must be nearly in line with that window, I should say, but it’s pretty hard to be sure in this pitch blackness.”

He turned slightly to the right and went ahead for about thirty feet when he again stopped.

“Jack,” he whispered as the sound of his brother’s breathing did not reach him.

There was no answer.

“Jack.”

This time he whispered as loudly as he dared, but again there was no answer.

“That’s mighty strange,” he thought. “He was right behind me only a moment ago.”

Carefully he retraced his steps whispering his brother’s name almost continually. But Jack had disappeared as completely as if the ground had opened and swallowed him. For fully fifteen minutes Bob searched using his flash light regardless of consequences and calling his name aloud. But no slightest trace of the missing boy could be discovered. It was baffling and a hot wave of anger surged up within him as he paused and mopped his forehead. What was he to do? That, in some way, his brother had fallen into the hands of their enemies, he felt sure, but how he could have been spirited away without a sound when he was so near was a question he could not answer. It was one of the few times in his life when he felt absolutely helpless. It added to his sense of helplessness when he realized that he had lost all idea of direction. Which way was the cabin? Versed as he was in woodcraft and accustomed to finding his way through the trackless forest with little save his sense of direction, now, in the intense blackness which surrounded him, he realized that he was, for the time being, as completely lost as could have been the merest child. He had turned so many times in his search that he was entirely ignorant as to the points of the compass.

Not that he had any fear regarding his own safety. He knew that he had only to remain where he was until the first streak of dawn showed in the east to be able to find his way back with ease. But, meantime, what of Jack?

“Guess I might as well be hunting around as standing still,” he thought as he threw the light from his flash about him.

And then he stopped and strained his ears as, from what seemed a great distance, through the vast forest, came the sound of weird mocking laughter.

For a long time he stood leaning against a spruce tree and trying to figure out what it meant. How could it have been possible for anyone to have captured Jack when he was so near without the slightest indication of a struggle? He well knew that he was not one to submit tamely to an attack made upon him, but the thought brought him no relief, rather it added to his fear. To search further in the darkness he felt would be useless and he sank down at the foot of the tree to wait for morning. On his knees he fell and the prayer which he offered, that God would keep his brother from harm, was fervent indeed.

Somehow he felt better after the prayer and the thought that He who notes the sparrow’s fall was watching over them comforted him. He was not sleepy at first, but gradually the sound of the branches, swaying softly overhead seemed to be singing a lull-a-bye to him and, before he was aware of it he was asleep.

Suddenly he started up wide awake in an instant. Had he heard his name called? He was not sure but he thought he had heard Jack’s voice.

“Jack.”

There was no answer and, after he had repeated the call several times, he decided that it had been a dream. He saw that the darkness was less intense and knew that daybreak was close at hand. Slowly the light grew as he leaned back against the tree, impatient for the time to come when he could see clearly enough to pick up the trail of whoever had been responsible for Jack’s disappearance.

As soon as he felt that there was light enough he set to work. He knew that he had gone but a short distance from the place where he had missed his brother, although he was not sure in what direction the spot was. For an hour he searched, going around in ever widening circles examining every foot of the ground. He knew that he had to deal with a man or men who were versed in forest lore for none other would have been able to sneak up on them in the darkness unheard and he knew that such a one would leave but a slight trail at the best. Another half hour passed before he found it. There was no sign of a struggle but several foot prints, barely discernible in the soft leafy mold, told the story to his trained eye. There had been two of them he read, but how they had succeeded in preventing him from even crying out was as big a mystery as ever. The trail led down the lake in the direction of the dam. Now that the sun was creeping up he was sure of the direction. The thought of first going back to the camp for help never occurred to him. Jack was in danger and he must get to him with the least possible delay.

The trail, once found, was not so difficult to follow as he had feared. To be sure there were many stretches where the foot prints failed to show in the pine needles, but the growth was thick and a broken twig here and a slight abrasion on the trunk of a tree there, led him rapidly on. Once he feared he had lost it but kept on in the same general direction, and after nearly a mile had been left behind, he picked it up again where the damp mold had preserved the foot prints.

The trail sheered off to the left as he neared the dam and presently he struck a fairly well defined path.

“I’ll bet they’ve taken him up to that cave on Katahdin,” he thought as he hurried along no longer looking for signs.

It was a little past eight o’clock when he reached the foot of the mountain and sat down for a short rest on a log. He had hurried so since he struck the path that he was about winded and knew that he would save time in the end by taking a rest before beginning the climb. In a few minutes he was ready to go on and, to his joy, found that the path continued up the mountain making it much less difficult than they had found it on their previous trip. Still it was rough and in places very steep and before he had gone far he was puffing and nearly out of breath.

“Guess I’d better take it a bit more easy,” he thought as he stopped again for a much needed rest. An hour later he figured that he must be nearly there and stopped every few minutes to listen. It wouldn’t do to be caught unawares, he told himself. Suddenly he heard the sound of voices and, as they seemed to be coming nearer, he quickly stepped out of the path and crouched in a thick clump of bushes.

Soon he saw two men, both well above the average in size, pass only a few feet from where he was hiding. They were talking Canuck but, although he was familiar enough with the language to follow an ordinary conversation, they were talking so rapidly that he was only able to catch a word or two, not enough to afford him a clue as to the subject they were discussing.

“Reckon those are the fellows who nabbed us in the cave,” he thought as they passed out of sight down the mountain. “And that probably leaves only that slim guy,” he added grimly.

Waiting a few minutes longer to make sure that the two half-breeds had really gone, he started off again feeling much rested and greatly encouraged. Still he in no way relaxed his vigilance, feeling certain that the man, who was doubtless the boss of the party, was too sharp to be caught napping if he could help it.

“I don’t know whether or not he has any idea that I’m on his trail, but it’s always best not to take unnecessary chances,” he soliloquized as he crept slowly upward.

In about ten minutes after he had made his fresh start the shack came into sight only a few yards ahead. The path, after turning around a huge rock ran, not into the small clearing in front of the building, but a little to the right. He might easily have missed it altogether and gone on past had he been less careful to miss nothing. In another minute he was lying at full length on the ground behind a thick bush just on the edge of the clearing. From his position he had a good view of the shack and was certain that there was little danger of being seen by the man who he supposed was on guard inside.

As he lay there, watching the door which was open about a foot, his mind was busy with the problem of how he should go about the task which he felt must not be long delayed. The two half-breeds might return at any time and with the three of them there the releasing of his brother would be well nigh impossible. On the other hand the man on guard was doubtless armed with a revolver and probably would not hesitate to use it and a false move on his part would prove disastrous. It was a hard nut to crack and he was still turning the matter over in his mind when the door was suddenly pushed farther open and the slim man stepped outside.

He paused just outside the door and glanced about him. Once his eyes stopped seemingly focused directly on the boy and his heart skipped a beat as he thought he had spied him. But his glance soon turned away and, after seeming to listen for a moment, the man turned and re-entered the shack, closing the door behind him.

“I’d give a good bit to know whether or not he saw me,” Bob thought. After watching a few minutes longer he decided to act. There was a single small window in the front of the shack about three feet to the right of the door and he crept around until he was facing the corner away from it. About twenty feet separated him from the shack and, darting across the intervening space, he crouched close to the building. Had he been seen? If he had the odds, he well knew, would be all with the other man. But, as the minutes passed and nothing developed, he began to breath more freely. He noiselessly edged over until he stood only a couple of feet from the door.

From time to time he could hear the man moving about inside and once he heard him approach the door and even lay his hand on the latch but he evidently changed his mind for some unknown reason and did not open it. It seemed to Bob that never had time passed so slowly. He was in a fever of fear lest the two men should return and find him there. Then the fat would be in the fire for sure, he thought.

He had been standing there close to the door for nearly twenty minutes when he again heard steps approaching the door and in another minute it opened and the man stepped out. Bob was facing the opening and did not hesitate an instant. With a lunge, which he had learned through long practice on the foot-ball field, he threw himself forward and tackled him just below the knees. The surprise was complete and, with a startled cry, the man bowled over with Bob on top of him. But, if he was taken by surprise, he was far from being helpless. Squirming from beneath with the agility of the trained wrestler he almost instantly had their positions reversed and was striving for a strangle hold on Bob’s throat. But Bob foiled the attempt and for a time they rolled over and over now one on top and then the other.

Bob had been well trained in the science of wrestling but he quickly realized that, although his antagonist was slight of build, he had muscles of steel and furthermore was acquainted with the various holds. One after another he tried them only to find himself baffled. However one thing gave him hope. The man was breathing more and more heavily and he knew that he could not be in first-class physical condition. Feeling certain of this he began to conserve his strength exerting himself only enough to prevent his antagonist from obtaining a decisive hold.

Soon he could hear the man’s breath coming in gasps and he judged it was time to again take the offensive. As if realizing the change in the boy’s attitude and knowing that he was nearly winded, the man managed to break a half-Nelson which Bob had secured and sprang to his feet. Bob did the same and for an instant they stood facing each other.

“I’ll teach you,” the man hissed as he sprang forward and aimed a blow at Bob’s head.

But the boy ducked and the blow was wasted on the air. As if maddened to the point of frenzy he rained a shower of blows on him several of which took effect but, although they hurt, they lacked force enough to do any real damage. Bob was watching for an opening the while he was doing his best to protect himself. Suddenly, as if realizing that he was accomplishing nothing, he stepped back and Bob saw his hand reach for his hip pocket. He knew what that meant and, like a flash of lightning, sprang forward. The man’s guard was down and before he could pull his gun from his pocket, Bob had struck with all the force of his one hundred and seventy pounds behind the blow. Fairly on the point of the chin the blow landed and the man toppled over without a sound and lay still. It was a complete knockout.

“Hope I haven’t killed him,” Bob muttered as he felt in his pocket and found a stout piece of cord. “But he’d have had me in another second.”

A small maple tree was close by and pulling the man up against it he soon had his wrists firmly bound together with the tree between them and his back.

“Reckon that’ll hold him,” he muttered as he stepped around in front of him.

Somewhat to his surprise he found that the man’s eyes were open.

“What’s the idea?” he asked in a feeble voice.

“Where’s my brother?” Bob demanded ignoring the question.

“Didn’t know you had one.”

“Well, where’s the boy you brought here last night or rather this morning?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t expect you’d tell me, but I reckon I can find him.”

“Help yourself.”

Bob started to enter the shack then turned back.

“Guess I’d better take your gun,” he said as he leaned over and pulled the revolver from his pocket. “You got away once and you might this time.”

The man said nothing but smiled in a way that made Bob shiver.

“He’s got something up his sleeve,” he thought as he again turned toward the shack.

Inside the place looked much the same as it had before except that three folding cots had been added and were arranged along one side of the room. The door, leading into the cave, was closed and fastened with the heavy bar. It was a moment’s work to remove the bar and throw open the door.

“Jack,” he cried.

There was no answer and, throwing the light of his flash ahead of him, he entered. It took but a short time to convince himself that Jack was not there and an unaccustomed feeling of fear seized hold of him. Several times he called his name but save for the echo the stillness of the tomb pervaded the place. He had been so certain that he would find his brother in the cave that the disappointment almost overcame him and for a moment he leaned weakly against the wall not knowing what step to take. Finally he shook himself together and went outside.

The man was in the same position in which he had left him and apparently had not moved.

“Well, did you find him?” he asked pleasantly.

“I guess you know well enough,” Bob snapped.

“Well, to tell the truth, of course I didn’t expect you would. I told you he wasn’t there, you know.”

“I’m not so sure of it.”

“No?”

“No. There must be some way out of that cave or some other room to it.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because I’m not a fool.”

“No?”

The man’s grin was exasperating, but Bob steeled himself to keep his temper.

“You got out of there the other day some other way and not through the door and I reckon you couldn’t very well go through solid rock,” he said.

“I congratulate you on your reasoning.”

“Never mind about the congratulations. I want you to tell me where my brother is and I want you to do it quick.”

“But suppose you’re asking the impossible?”

“You mean you don’t know where he is?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“And I didn’t expect you would, but you can’t very well blame me for that. I mean that you don’t believe me.”

“Will you tell me how you got out of the cave the other day?”

“Hardly.”

“Maybe I can find a way to make you.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. I’m pretty stubborn at times, you know.”

Bob was bluffing for he had not the slightest notion how he could compel the man to disclose the secret of the cave. It may be that stories he had read telling how torture had been applied to force secrets flashed through his mind but, in his heart he knew that he could never do a thing like that unless he was sure that it was the only way of saving a life.

“Suppose I take you down to Greenville and have you arrested?” he suggested.

“On what grounds?” the man smiled.

“Kidnapping.”

“Go ahead. But remember my word will be as good as yours. What proof have you?”

Bob well knew that the man was right. He had no proof beyond his own word and that would not be enough. If he only knew how long it would be before those other men would return he would soon decide what to do. The fact that his captive did not show the least sign of anxiety disquieted him not a little. It indicated that he knew he would be set free before long. Still he was almost certain that his brother was not far off and in the power of the rascals and he was determined to find him if it was in any way possible.

“I’m going to make another search of that cave,” he finally said. “And if those others come back while I’m gone, remember I’ve got a gun and know how to use it.”

“I won’t forget it,” the man grinned. “Good luck to you.”

Before turning back to the shack he first examined his captive’s hands and made sure that he had not loosened the cord.

“You’ve got them tied pretty tight,” the man remarked.

“I intended to,” Bob returned grimly. “But you won’t suffer any if you don’t try to get away.”

“I tried that while you were gone before.”

Back again inside the dark cave he began a systematic examination of its walls. That there was a secret passage way he felt sure. As he had said a man doesn’t pass through solid rock and the man he had tied outside had, in some way, made his escape, therefore there must be a way.

Foot by foot he made the circuit of the room, throwing the rays of his flash light on every inch of the wall. He had covered three sides when a faint sound caught his ear. At first he feared that he had been mistaken, but a moment later it was repeated a trifle louder. It sounded as though some one was striking one rock against another, but it seemed a great way off and he was unable to determine the direction from which it came.

“Jack.” He shouted the name as loudly as he could.

Now the taps came at closer intervals and in a moment he realized that there was a meaning to them.

“B-O-B.”

Slowly he spelled out the name in Morse and knew that it was Jack who was signaling.

“Where are you, Jack?” he shouted.

“U-N-D-E-R Y-O-U-R R-I-G-H-T C-O-R-N-E-R T-R-A-P.”

“All right, I’m coming,” he cried as he hastened to the place indicated.

The corner was littered with dead leaves, but as soon as he had brushed some of them aside with his foot he saw that there was a small trap door fitted with an iron ring. Eagerly he seized hold of the ring and a black hole yawned at his feet. The light from his flash showed that an old ladder led to the depths below, and in another moment he was standing in a circular well about ten feet in diameter. But, as he flashed his light about there was no sign of Jack.

“Where are you, Jack?” he called.

There was no reply in words, but a loud tap sounded over to his right and, flashing his light in that direction, he saw what his eyes had missed at first. Close to the floor was a hole about two feet high and the same distance across. It was but the work of a minute to crawl through, a distance of only three or four feet, and he found himself in another room about half the size of the upper cave and, stretched on the floor, at the further side, was Jack.

“Jack,” he cried as he sprang forward.

A low gurgle greeted him and he saw that there was a gag in the boy’s mouth and that he was tied hand and foot, with his hands behind his back.

“I knew you’d come,” he said as soon as the gag was removed.

“Of course,” Bob replied as he cut the rope which bound his hands and feet. “Are you all right?”

“Sure only a bit stiff.”

“Then let’s get out quick.”

“Why the rush?”

Quickly Bob explained the situation. “Those fellows may be back at any minute,” he finished.

Bob crawled through the hole closely followed by Jack and had just gotten to his feet when a shaft of light was shot through the opening above.

“Get back, quick,” he ordered.

“Of all the luck,” Jack groaned as soon as they were back in the larger chamber again.

“Either they’ve come back or that fellow’s got loose,” Bob said, “and I don’t believe he got that cord off by himself.”

“And we’re caught like rats in a trap.”

“Unless there’s another way out. But we’re safe for the present. They won’t dare come down that ladder. I’ve got that fellow’s gun and he knows it.”

“But why, in the name of common sense, did they let us know that they had come back? If they had waited till we got out they could have caught us without much trouble, that is if the others are really back.”

“I was thinking of that very thing myself.”

“Well, what about it?” Jack asked as Bob paused.

“I don’t know the answer, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, I don’t know as the answer’s the important thing just now after all. How are we going to get out, is the big question.”

“I’m afraid it’s too big,” Bob sighed as he threw the rays of his light about the room. “Do you suppose there’s any back door to this place?”

“It seems to me that there must be because when you lifted up that trap, I thought I could feel a draft, but of course I might have imagined it.”

“Well, here goes for a search. You stay here and if you hear anything suspicious let me know.”

While he was speaking Bob was moving about the chamber examining the walls but, after he had made a complete circuit, he had to confess that he had found nothing which promised the faintest hope.

“I’m afraid that draft was an imaginary one,” he said as he came back to Jack’s side. “I can find nothing which looks like an opening of any sort.”

“Then I guess it’s up to us to wait till they make their next move,” Jack sighed.

“But the air seems perfectly fresh in here,” Bob said as he sat down on the ground.

“I hadn’t thought of it before but that’s right. There must be some way for air to get in or it would begin to be stuffy.”

“Suppose you take a look. I may have missed something,” Bob proposed handing the flash light to Jack.

For some time they did not speak while Jack moved about throwing the light over every part of the walls and roof. He had already examined the floor in hopes that there might be another trap door.

“Come over here a minute, Bob,” he finally called.

Then, as his brother joined him in the right corner farthest from the hole through which they had crawled, he pointed upward with the flash.

“What do you think of it?” he asked after a moment had passed.

“I think I see what you mean,” Bob replied. “That rocky ledge like stone which juts out there doesn’t seem to meet the roof, is that it?”

“That’s it all right and I believe there’s an opening up there, but how are we going to get up to it? It’s all of twelve feet from the floor.”

“And there isn’t a thing here to help so far as I can see.”

“Well, let’s sit down and think it over. Maybe something will bob up. I didn’t see how I was going to signal to you when I first heard you up there, and I guess I rolled over every square foot of the floor before I got my hands on that piece of rock.”