Part 10

“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.”

_Chapter 22_

DESCENT INTO THE CAVE

Judy and Kathleen would not allow Miss Meadows to go alone to Calico Cave.

Insisting upon accompanying her, they made cheerful talk as they tramped down the now familiar forest road.

Moving along the narrow path far above the silvery White River, Judy was the first to see Pete lying at the mouth of the dark cave.

“Why, he’s still there!” she exclaimed. “Poor doggie, do you suppose he’s had anything to eat or drink?”

Pete lay upon his stomach, head between his paws. A picture of utter dejection, he whined and whimpered as the girls stooped to pet him.

“Bart must be down in the cave,” Judy declared. “Otherwise, why would Pete lie here and act as if he’d lost his last friend?”

The three stepped into the dim interior of the cave. Judy cupped her hands and shouted Bart’s name repeatedly.

Her voice echoed weirdly through the cave, but there was no answering call. If Bart had descended into the cavern, it was evident that he was at a level so far below that he could not hear the cry.

“No, Judy,” Miss Meadows said firmly, as her niece would have started down into the cave. “We don’t dare explore alone. It’s unsafe.”

“What should we do?” Kathleen asked, pulling her jacket more tightly about her, for the air was cool.

“Bart may be safe enough,” Judy added anxiously. “Then again, if he braved the siphon, there’s no telling what may have happened.”

“I’ll get in touch with Bart’s landlady again,” Miss Meadows finally decided. “There’s a chance he may have gone out of town, and returned to his room by this time.”

“If he shouldn’t be back--” Judy began. “Then what?”

“I don’t know what we can do except to notify the authorities,” Miss Meadows said, deeply troubled. “Meanwhile, you girls are to return to camp. I’ll feed Pete and see if I can coax him to the cottage.”

“I don’t feel like going back to camp just now,” Judy said soberly. “Until I know that Bart is safe, I couldn’t enjoy any of the Scout activities.”

“Neither could I,” chimed in Kathleen. “It’s been such an exciting day already. I feel sort of jittery inside.”

The three crawled out of the cave into the sunlight. Pete scrambled up alertly as they emerged, but could not be coaxed away from the entranceway.

“If only we dared go down into the cave, we could learn what became of Bart,” Kathleen remarked to her companions who stood silent and uncertain. “Then we could end this dreadful suspense.”

“We can’t go down into the cave without a guide,” Miss Meadows repeated firmly. “I know of no one--”

“Captain Hager!” Judy cried. “He could help us, if he will!”

“Of course! Why didn’t I think of him? At the very least, he should be able to advise us. Where does he live, Judy?”

“I’m not sure. I think, in a cabin somewhere along the river.”

“Do you suppose you girls could find him?” Miss Meadows urged. “I’ll wait here.”

“We can try,” Judy promised.

She and Kathleen set off at once, making their way to the river level. Captain Hager was not at the dock where they first had met him, nor was his boat anywhere visible on the river.

Judy surveyed the water front, noticing a two-room shack several hundred yards down the beach.

“That might be his place,” she said. “We can try there anyway.”

A brisk walk brought them to the modest little cabin. Though small, the building was trim and neat, and had recently been whitewashed. There was a little garden at the rear, carefully watered and fertilized. An anchor, encrusted with rust, hung above the door.

“This must be Captain Hager’s place,” Judy decided.

She knocked. After a time, the door opened. Captain Hager stood there in his shirt sleeves, looking older and less spry than the girls had remembered him.

But upon recognizing the Scouts, his face creased into a welcoming smile.

“Come in, come in!” he boomed.

The room into which he led the girls was extremely severe and quite bare of furniture. There was a bunk bed, a stove, an ice box and two wooden chairs. Above the bed hung the picture of a middle-aged woman in a heavy gilt frame.

“My wife,” said Captain Hager, noticing Judy’s eyes upon the picture. “That was all I kept from the old place. Sold all my furniture at auction. An old salt like me can’t be bothered with fancy trappings.”

He limped as he walked across the cabin floor to pull out chairs for the girls.

“Your leg is bothering you?” Judy asked, taking the seat he offered.

“Oh, it’s the old rheumatiz come back to fret me,” Captain Hager sighed. “For the last couple o’ days I’ve been hobbling around like a cripple.”

Judy gazed at Kathleen despairingly, feeling that it would be useless even to broach the subject of the call. In seeking Captain Hager as a guide, she had forgotten that his lively talk and manner belied his age and infirmities.

“Now what brings you here?” the captain inquired. “If it’s fishing, I’ll have to say no, because I’m in dry dock for a couple of days until I get to feeling better again.”

“We didn’t know about your rheumatism,” Judy said. “I guess it’s quite out of the question.”

“What is?” the old man demanded. “It wasn’t fishing that brought you.”

Judy shook her head. “It’s Bart,” she told him. “We think he’s gone into the cave again. He’s been missing more than a day, and we’re afraid he’s trapped down there. Either that, or he’s attempted the siphon.”

Captain Hager did not speak for a long while. Then he muttered: “The siphon! I told that boy to wash it out of his mind, but I always knew he’d try it someday. The thought of it always was a challenge and a plague to him.”

“What do you think we should do?” Judy asked desperately. “Notify the authorities?”

“If he’s gone through the siphon, he’s beyond help,” the old man answered. “There’s no man living in this community, who would risk his life to try to force that tunnel of water. Either he’ll get back on his own, or like his father before him, he’ll be heard of no more.”

“But supposing he didn’t attempt the siphon,” Kathleen interposed. “Maybe he’s trapped somewhere below the surface by a fall of rock. Would the rangers check, do you think?”

“They might make up a search party,” the old man conceded. “But who would lead it? That cave is as simple as A-B-C for a skipper that knows the layout. The rangers have their maps, but what do they know of Hager’s Hole? Now if I were ten years younger--”

“It wouldn’t be fair to ask you,” Judy said. “You’re not feeling well and your rheumatism--”

“Who says I’m not feeling well?” Captain Hager growled. “Next to good salt air, there’s nothing better for the ache o’ old bones than cool cave air.”

“You’ll take us down there?” Judy asked eagerly. “You’re sure it wouldn’t be too hard on you?”

“I’ll go as far as the siphon, or until we find Bart,” the old captain promised.

“How soon can we get started?” Judy urged.

“As soon as I gather some rope, a good light and a few things we may need. But time’s no matter in a cave. Night or day, it’s all the same, once you’re underground.”

“Will we need heavy clothes?” Kathleen asked.

“Those you’re wearing will be all right,” the captain assured her. “The temperature is the same everywhere in the cave. Heavy clothing is cumbersome and burdens one in climbing. You’ll need flashlights and plenty of extra batteries.”

“We’ll get them and meet you at the cave entrance,” Judy said, starting for the door. She paused, and then impulsively flung her arms about Captain Hager’s bulky shoulders.

“None o’ that!” he chuckled, enjoying the embrace. “Save your pep for the cave. Going down is easy enough, but it’s a tough climb back.”

The sun was high by the time Captain Hager rejoined the two girls and Judy’s aunt at the cave entrance. Meanwhile, Miss Meadows had confirmed by a telephone call, that Bart had not returned to his rooming house.

After considerable discussion, it was decided that only Captain Hager and the two girls should make the descent into the cave. Though reluctant to see the three go without her, Miss Meadows shuddered at the thought of exploring the unknown. Captain Hager relieved her mind by assuring her that with him the girls would not be in the slightest danger.

“You’ll be more help to us here, Ma’am,” he told Miss Meadows. “If everything goes well, we should be back within four hours, unless we’re lucky enough to run into Bart before that. Who knows? The young scamp may be day dreaming down there in a sacred grotto. Sometimes, the beauty of the formations is so overpowering, it makes a lubber forget time and space and the cares o’ the world.”

“Well, don’t forget to come back as quickly as you can,” Miss Meadows warned. “I’ll be dreadfully worried until you’re back here with Bart.”

“We’ll do our best to find him,” Captain Hager said soberly. “I love that boy like my own son.”

“I know you do, and that you’re exerting yourself to go down into the cave,” Miss Meadows replied. “If you’re not back in four hours, I’ll notify the ranger station.”

“Make it five hours,” Captain Hager corrected. “I’m a mite slower than I was in my younger days. But if my ticker holds out, I’ll be back here in fine shape. Ready, maties?”

Judy and Kathleen nodded eagerly.

“Then follow me,” directed the captain. “Walk close behind and be careful about dislodging rocks.”

Single file, the three entered the cave, its ragged shadows enveloping them.

As they paused an instant, the beams of their flashlights picked up the lovely emerald green tint of roof moss. Then silently, they began the descent into the cavern and loneliness closed in.

_Chapter 23_

THE SIPHON

The descent to the chamber of the White Witch was quickly made. There, the party of three paused briefly to catch breath and to view again the weird figure which captured the imagination.

A tunnel, at times narrow and low, wound deeper and deeper into the earth. Judy and Kathleen kept close to their guide. In the stillness of the cavern they could hear his somewhat labored breathing, for even the slightest sound was magnified.

They came presently to another small chamber where they paused, speechless. Stalactites sparkled like jewels, standing out in the most fantastic shapes.

Judy could imagine animal figures, all in a variety of color, milky white, red, green and black. The colors, Captain Hager explained, came from mineral infiltration.

“No wonder Bart couldn’t resist this cave,” Judy remarked in awe, entranced. “It’s like a fairyland! How I wish all the Scouts could see it!”

In close formation, the three went on into the cavern depths. A cooler wind met them, but from where it arose they gained no clue.

The going had become harder now, and after edging through a narrow space, the three stopped for a moment beside a translucent column which rose from the floor to the roof.

As they stood thus, there came a deafening crash behind them.

Judy and Kathleen froze in their tracks, too terrified to utter a sound.

“A cave-in behind us?” Kathleen finally asked in a choked whisper.

“It’s nothing,” the captain reassured her. “Sounded like a blast of dynamite far away. Like enough the rangers are blasting a tree stump somewhere in the park area.”

“But it sounded as if the cave roof had fallen!” Judy said, still shaken.

“All sounds underground are magnified,” Captain Hager explained. “Even the dripping of water can be very loud. Off to the right there is a Talking Grotto. But we will not explore that passage, for Bart would not waste time there.”

To proceed, it was necessary to creep across a slippery formation which resembled a frozen waterfall. They passed through a room which was cluttered with grotesque toadstool types of stalagmites, and then came to formations so delicate that they appeared as a lacy cobweb.

As they sat down to rest their legs for a moment, Captain Hager told the girls that the beautiful pillars they had seen farther back were made by the joining of stalactites and stalagmites.

The growth of formations, he added, was much faster than generally believed. Varying rainfall, the thickness of the rock penetrated by water, and the rate of drip, all affected the deposits, he explained.

“All water that goes into a cave, must come out somewhere,” the captain continued. “During a hard rain storm, this cave could be dangerous at the lower levels.”

“You mean we’d get the rain down here?” Kathleen questioned in amazement.

“Belatedly, yes. Shortly now, you’ll see the underground river. During the dry months it shrivels, but in the rainy season, it thunders through the chasms like a mad demon.”

“I hope it doesn’t storm today,” Kathleen said nervously.

“The day was clear,” Captain Hager reassured her. “And there has been no recent rain to flood the underground stream.”

Farther on, the girls came to a series of small pools in which there were blind fish. They did not tarry long, but continued through another long, narrow passage.

“Do you suppose Bart came this way?” Judy finally asked. “Couldn’t he have taken any number of branch-offs?”

“The branch-offs are dead-end streets, so to speak,” replied the captain. “If I know that lad, we’ll find him at the siphon, or we’ll not find him this voyage. Tired?”

“My legs feel sort of cramped,” Judy confessed, ashamed of her weariness. “But I’m all right.”

“We’re nearing the end,” the captain encouraged the girls. “The last few yards are the hardest. Then we’ll bring up at the siphon.”

“And if Bart isn’t there?” asked Judy.

The old captain did not answer. He gazed thoughtfully at his sturdy boots, tested his light briefly on the limestone wall, and then signaled that he was ready to resume the descent.

Not far beyond the point where they had rested, the three explorers came to a chamber so large that it seemed to have no surrounding walls.

At its entrance, Captain Hager hesitated, seemingly reluctant to go on.