CHAPTER XVIII

JIMMIE FINDS A WAY

“That isn’t one of the boys,” Ned decided as a figure very faintly outlined under the stars approached the place where the two stood.

“Then it must be Gilroy!” Jimmie chuckled. “I guess he got sufficiently frightened to take a trip on our aerial elevator.”

“It’s Gilroy all right,” Ned whispered, in a moment, with a faint suspicion of a chuckle. “And if he hasn’t got the rope with him, I’m a goat!”

“I never heard of a man sliding down a rope and bringing the cord with him!” Jimmie laughed. “He must be a wonder!”

Directly the trembling voice of the fat confidential clerk was heard.

“Boys, boys!” he whispered.

“Right here!” Ned answered.

The uncertain figure shot toward the boys as if propelled from the muzzle of a gun. When he reached the spot where they stood, he collapsed utterly and lay groaning on the rocky floor of the entrance to the old channel.

“My God!” he cried. “My God!”

“What’s going on up there?” asked Ned.

“Murder!” whimpered the fat clerk. “There’s murder going on up there!”

“Who’s been killed?” asked Jimmie.

“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know!” was the reply. “I sat there holding the rope until I thought you’d deserted me, then I tied it to a point of rock and prepared to descend. Before I could do so, the whole surface of the ledge above the pit became covered with moving figures. They swarmed toward me and I threw myself flat on the ground. I shall never get over the scare I received!”

“Go on,” said Ned, impatiently.

“There must have been two parties, or two halves of the same party, coming in from different directions,” the confidential clerk continued, “for they fired shots at each other, and I heard one body go tumbling and grinding to the bottom of the pit. It was awful!”

“Then what?” asked Jimmie.

“Then they scuffled about for a time,” Gilroy went on, “and I heard more shots and some one else fell. To the end of my life I shall hear the grinding of his bones as he struck the rocks!”

“Did you hear any talk?” asked Ned.

“Oh, I don’t know!” was the answer. “I heard talk, but I can’t tell you what was said!”

“And then you slid down the rope?” Jimmie asked.

“Yes,” was the mournful reply, “and I shall never be able to hold a pen again. My hands are stripped to the bone.”

“But how did you manage to bring the rope with you?” asked Ned.

“I can’t tell,” was the answer. “I think I must have fallen the last few feet, for when I struck the rock the rope came tumbling down on my head. Suppose it had broken away before I reached the bottom,” he added with a shudder, “then I should have been lying out there where those other masses of crushed flesh are lying. It was horrible!”

Ned took the cord into his hand and examined it, being careful to step farther into the entrance as he did so, and to turn the light of his electric to the rear.

“The rope was cut!” he said shortly.

“My God!” gasped the fat clerk.

“Cheer up!” Jimmie whispered. “The entertainment has just commenced!”

“Let us get away from this awful place!” pleaded Gilroy.

“I’m agreeable,” Jimmie responded. “I’m not stuck on this job myself. Let’s go up to the office and get our time!”

“Keep still, you little grouch!” whispered Ned. “Gilroy is having troubles of his own just now. Don’t pester him.”

“Oh, well,” Jimmie said, “if my cheerful conversation isn’t appreciated here, I’ll go back and unload some of it on Harry.”

“Harry?” repeated Gilroy. “Is he in this nightmare, too?”

“Oh, Harry’s all right,” Jimmie answered, resolved to get in a parting shot at the frightened man. “Harry’s fine as a fiddle. He’s got a busted wing, and an annex on his steeple big enough to put a bell in. That’s all that’s the matter with Harry!”

“Say, Jimmie,” Ned interposed, “perhaps you’d better take Gilroy back to the place where we left Harry.”

“You come along, too, then!” the boy insisted.

“Perhaps I’d better remain here on the chance of some of the outlaws getting into the pit,” Ned suggested.

“According to all accounts, there’s two in the pit now,” Jimmie chuckled as he turned away. “Now, Gilroy,” he continued, taking the frightened man by the arm, “I’ll escort you into the chief’s office, and give you the third degree! I think you’ll learn to like this place!”

The two disappeared in the darkness, Jimmie wisely restraining an inclination to light the way with his electric. Ned remained at the entrance for some moments, listening for further evidences of an attack, but none came. Then he heard footsteps and heard a chuckle close behind.

“What do you think?” Jimmie asked. “Jack and Frank have crawled out of the bottomless pit and are back there trying to comfort Harry. As for Gilroy, he’s trying to send his sobs by wireless to New York.”

“What’s the use tantalizing Gilroy!” Ned said, unable to restrain a laugh. “You’ve got him so scared now that he doesn’t know which way is from him. Why don’t you let him alone?”

“I try to let him alone,” Jimmie replied with assumed gravity, “but when I think how fat he is, and how his face reminds me of a cold roast of veal, I just can’t help stirring him up a bit.”

“So Jack and Frank didn’t succeed in finding a route out by the dry channel?” asked Ned.

“I guess not,” Jimmie replied. “I didn’t stop to ask many questions, for I wanted to let you know that they were here.”

“I think,” Ned said after a moment’s silence, “that the war is over for tonight. There isn’t a whisper at the top of the cliff now.”

In order to make sure that the outlaws had indeed departed, Ned and Jimmie stood for some moments in the entrance just beyond the angle of the wall.

While they stood there a mellow mist of light filled the sky, revealing the sharp outlines of the ledge at the top of the pit.

“Perhaps they’re building a fire,” suggested Jimmie.

“The moon!” replied Ned.

“I’m mighty glad to see her!” Jimmie responded.

Ned looked at his watch under the hidden ray of a searchlight and went on:

“Eleven o’clock,” he said. “The moon must have been in view for some minutes.”

“Of course,” Jimmie answered. “It wouldn’t be shining on the western slope of this blooming old dump if it hadn’t.”

“In half an hour or so, then,” Ned said, “we may be able to learn whether the outlaws have indeed taken their departure.”

“You go on in and see Frank and Jack,” Jimmie suggested, “and take the rope with you. They want to tell you something they’ve discovered. They wouldn’t tell me, but I’m positive that they’ve blundered on a deposit of gold. They look happy enough to have found a million.”

“I hope they haven’t said anything about it to Gilroy,” Ned replied.

“Gilroy?” repeated Jimmie scornfully. “Why that fat dub is scared stiff. He wouldn’t know the Constitution of the United States from a declaration of war right now.”

“Don’t go to getting into any scrapes while I’m gone,” Ned advised, as he turned away toward the tunnel. “You stand right here and keep watch until I come back.”

“I won’t breathe aloud!” promised Jimmie.

The meeting between Ned and the other boys was a joyous one. Each had been worried over the disappearance of the other. As for Gilroy, he welcomed the assembling of the boys as an indication that he was soon to be taken out of the dangerous situation in which he found himself.

“Now, boys,” Ned said, after the greetings were over, “we’ve got to get Harry up the incline and out of the pit, so we may as well be at it.”

“According to Gilroy,” Harry smiled, “there’s a band of Bashi Bazooks up there ready to mix with you the minute you show your faces.”

“The killing of two of their number undoubtedly frightened them away,” Ned answered. “At any rate, the moon is rising now, and any danger which threatens may readily be detected. You must understand,” he went on, “that the outlaws who came to the Devil’s Punch Bowl expected to find you three boys lying dead at the bottom.”

“Why should they think that?” asked Harry.

“I’m going on the theory,” replied Ned, “that this crooked little messenger boy notified the outlaws where we were to be found before he came to lead us to the slaughter.”

“That’s just about what he did!” Jack interposed.

“In that case,” Ned continued, “When they saw no trace of us in the pit, they were ready to abandon their search, probably believing that the boy had deceived them.”

“I understand,” Frank cut in, “then they got into a mixup among themselves and, according to Gilroy, two were killed and the rest took a hot-foot for the cool chambers of the old mission.”

“That’s the way I look at it,” Ned said.

“Then we may as well be getting Harry out,” Frank suggested. “We’ll tie the rope under his arms, use our coats for a stretcher and pull him gently, yet firmly, up the tunnel until his back wears out and then we’ll turn him over.”

“I could walk up all right,” Harry insisted, “if the tunnel was only high enough for me to stand up in.”

“But it isn’t,” Jack returned. “We’ve all got to crawl on our hands and knees, and you never can do it with that bum wing of yours.”

“No,” Frank advised, “you never can climb up the tunnel with a broken arm. We’ll bundle you up in our coats, tie you tight like a mummy with the rope, and then pull you up. The floor of the tunnel is so smooth that you’ll think you’re out sleigh-riding on a winter night.”

This plan was followed, and the injured boy was landed at the entrance of the old channel with very little inconvenience.

The moon was higher in the heavens now, and its light illuminated not only the circle of jagged rocks which held the pit in their setting but also a portion of the depression itself. Ned searched the top with a field glass but found no evidence of enemies.

“The way is clear, I think,” he decided, “and the question now before the house is as to how we’re going to get that rope up.”

“Don’t be asking foolish questions,” Jimmie cut in. “Frank and Jack wormed their way down here, didn’t they?”

“Indeed we did,” Jack answered, “and came very near breaking our necks half a dozen times!”

“Then I can worm my way up!” Jimmie insisted. “Here,” he went on, “you see that crooked corner of rock twenty or thirty feet up? Well, just throw the rope over that and I’ll get up that far anyway. I think I can see resting places for the rope at intervals all the way up. I’m the original aerial climber!”

“We don’t want another boy with broken limbs,” suggested Frank.

“If I get a tumble,” Jimmie advised, “you won’t have any trouble picking me up. You can carry me home in your pockets.”

The mode of climbing the precipice suggested by the lad was not so difficult as it at first appeared to be. With the aid of the rope, a strong arm, and infinite daring, the boy soon reached the lip of the pit and the rest was easy, when all were at the top, Jimmie reminded his companions that they had paid no attention to the bodies of the two men who had fallen over the precipice.

In spite of the protests of the others, the little fellow insisted on swinging down the rope, now stretching from top to bottom, and making a search for the two bodies. When he returned to the top, his face was a little paler than usual, and he started away without a word.

“Who are they?” asked Ned, provoked at the boy’s silence.

“One of them is the man called Huga by the fellows in the old mission cave,” he answered, “and the other is just a common mucker.”

“With Huga dead,” Ned said, “the way is easier.”