CHAPTER XXV

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING

Along the trail, which they had thus suddenly come upon, fairly ran Frank, Ned and Bart. Now that they were sure Fenn was ahead of them, though they could not tell how long since he had passed that way, they were anxious to find their chum as soon as possible.

"It looks as if Fenn was chasing the Chinese and the white man, instead of them being after him," suggested Ned.

"Unless they are leading him with a rope," remarked Frank. "In that case he would be marching behind."

"Well, I'll bet they'd have a fine time making Fenn march along with a rope on him," said Bart. "He'd lie down and make 'em drag him. That would be Fenn's way."

"Unless he's too sick to make any resistance," replied Frank, who seemed to take a gloomy view of it.

"Well, there's no good wasting time talking about it," declared Bart. "What we want to do is to find Fenn. Then we'll know exactly how it was."

"That's right; save our breaths to make speed with," added Ned.

Though the boys were not lagging on the trail, they increased their pace until they were going along at a dog trot, which carried them over a considerable space in a short time, yet was not too tiring. They caught occasional glimpses of the marks left by the feet of the Chinese and the white man, as well as prints of Fenn's shoes.

"There they go, up that hill!" exclaimed Ned, who, for the time being, was in the advance.

"Who? The men?" called Bart quickly.

"No, the footprints. Come on," and he led the way up the little hill, up which Fenn had hurried the day previous, with such disastrous results. Fortunately the pace was beginning to tell on Ned, and, as he reached the summit, and started down the other side, he slowed up. It was to this circumstance that he avoided stepping right into the hole of the shaft, down which Fenn had taken that queer-sliding journey.

"Look here!" yelled Ned, so excitedly that his two companions fairly jumped up to gain his side, thinking he must have come upon either Fenn or one of the men. "Somebody has fallen down that hole!"

That was very evident, for the fresh earth on the edges, the scattered and torn clumps of fern, and the general disturbance about the mouth of the pit, showed that all too plainly.

"See!" suddenly exclaimed Bart. "There's his hat!" and, turning to one side he picked it up from the ground, where it had fallen when poor Fenn took his tumble. "This shows he was here."

"We were sure enough of that before," said Frank, "but it certainly does seem to indicate that Fenn went down there. I wonder whether he fell, or whether those men thrust him down?"

Bart threw himself, face downward, close to the edge of the hole. He looked carefully at the marks on the edges. Then he got up and began looking about in a circle. Finally, he walked back some distance down the hill.

"I have it!" he finally announced.

"All right, let's have it and see if we agree with you," spoke Ned.

"Fenn came up this hill all alone," declared Bart. "If you had looked closely enough you could see that the footprints of the Chinese and the white man go around the base of the hill to the right. Probably they made a turn, when Fenn wasn't looking. He thought they went up the hill. He hurried after them, and stepped right into this trap. Probably it was covered over with leaves or grass, and he couldn't see it, until it was too late. That's my theory."

"And I believe you're right," declared Frank. "It sounds reasonable."

"Then the next question is; what are we going to do about it?" inquired Ned. "No use standing here discussing what happened, or how it happened. What we want to do is to get busy and rescue Fenn."

"That's the way to talk," declared Frank.

"Wait a minute," suggested Bart. Once more he got down close to the hole, and peered into the depths.

"See anything?" asked Ned.

"There a way to get down," replied Bart, after a moment.

"How; a ladder?"

"No. Ropes. See, there are cables fastened to the sides of this shaft, and it looks as if they had been used several times."

Bart reached down and got hold of a clay-covered rope, one of those which Fenn had tried so vainly to grasp.

"That's funny," remarked Frank. "Looks as if this was a regular underground railway system."

"I'll bet that's what it is," cried Ned. "This must be one of the means whereby the smugglers get the Chinamen ashore. Why didn't we think of it before? Let's go down there. We can easily do it by holding on to the ropes."

"It's too risky," decided Frank. "There's no telling what is at the bottom."

"But we've got to save Fenn!" exclaimed Bart, who rather sided with Ned.

"I know that, but there's no use running recklessly into danger. We can't help him that way. If he's down that hole, or in the hands of the smugglers, we can do him more good by keeping out of that pit, or away from the scoundrels, than we can by falling into their hands. Fenn needs some one outside to help him, not some one in the same pickle he's in."

Frank's vigorous reasoning appealed to his chums, and, though they would have been willing to brave the unknown dangers of the hole, they admitted it would be best to try first some other means of rescuing their chum.

"Let's prospect around a bit," proposed Frank. "Maybe we can find some other way of discovering where this hole leads to. The lake can't be far away, and if we can get down to the shore we may see something that will give us a clue."

"All right, come on," said Bart, and the Darewell chums started down the hill, in the direction of Lake Superior.

As they emerged upon a bluff, which overlooked the vast body of water, they came to a pause, so impressed were they, even in their anxiety, with the beautiful view that stretched out before them. Under the bright rays of the morning sun the lake sparkled like a sheet of silver.

"I wish we were all safe together again, aboard the _Modoc_," remarked Ned, after a moment's pause.

"Same here," echoed Bart. "But, if we're--"

He was interrupted by a sound off to the left. Gazing in that direction the boys saw, coming along the trail toward them, a man and girl. Something about them seemed familiar.

"Mr. Hayward!" cried Ned.

"And his daughter!" added Frank, in a lower voice.

"Well! Well!" exclaimed the man, whose lucky escape from the automobile accident in Darewell, had led to the boys' acquaintance with him. "If here aren't my young friends, the Darewell Chums, come to pay me a visit! I'm very glad to see you, but I thought there were four of you."

"So there are, father," interrupted Ruth. "Where is Fenn?" she asked, turning quickly to the three boys. "Is he ill--didn't he come with you?"

"He's lost!" replied Frank. "We're hunting for him."

"Lost?" repeated Mr. Hayward. "How? Where?"

Frank briefly related what had happened since they had started from Darewell on the cruise to Duluth.

"Well I never!" exclaimed Robert Hayward. "That's a great story! And the last trace you have of him is down that hole?"

"The very last," answered Ned, looking at Ruth, and not blaming Fenn for thinking she was pretty.

"This must be looked into," declared Mr. Hayward. "Lucky I happened to be out here with my daughter. You see I live several miles from here, but to-day, Ruth and I decided to take a little trip. I--I wanted to look at some land I--some property I am interested in out here. I was on my way to it when I saw you boys."

The man seemed to have a curious hesitation in his manner and his words, and Ruth, too, appeared under some strain. But the boys were too anxious about their comrade to pay much attention to this.

"Come on!" suddenly called Mr. Hayward.

"Where are you going, father?" asked Ruth.

"I'm going to find Fenn Masterson. I think I have a clue that will help us," and he strode forward, followed by his daughter and the wondering boys.