Chapter 25

LOST MINE FOUND

For a long moment the two boys stood motionless, staring wide-eyed and dismayed at the gaping hole before them. Then Dale came to himself with a sudden stiffening of the muscles.

"Get Ranny!" he snapped over his shoulder. And even as the words passed his lips he was conscious of a thrill of thankfulness that the older fellow was here to depend upon. A second later he was stretched out on the ground, his head thrust over the hole.

"Court!" he called loudly. "Court--are you down there?"

For an instant there was no sound. Then his words beat back on him in a queer, sardonic kind of echo that sent a shiver flickering down his spine. He called again, but still there was no reply. Staring down, he tried to penetrate the darkness, but his straining sight could make out nothing but black void. A vivid picture of the mine-shaft he had once seen in Pennsylvania flashed into his mind and turned him cold. Then a step sounded behind him, and lifting his head, he looked into Ranny's set face.

"Does he answer?"

"No."

"Let me get there."

Scrambling to his feet, Dale flattened out against the rock and Ranny took his place. Two or three times the latter shouted Parker's name, but only the echo answered. Then he stood up, and, squeezing past Tompkins, pressed through the crowd of boys gathered about the entrance to the crevice. His face was a little pale, but his jaw was square and he held a scout whistle in one hand. A moment later three long shrill blasts resounded through the woods.

It was the scout danger-signal--a call for help. The boys stood motionless, listening intently for an answer. Presently it came, two short blasts, rather faint and far off, from over the top of the hill.

"That's Mr. Reed, I guess," said Ranny. "I hope he'll bring that coil of rope along. But of course he will. He's not the kind to forget any--"

The words died on his lips; his eyes widened in startled surprise. The others, following the direction of his bewildered gaze, gasped and stared. Bennie Rhead, returned from a fruitless trip to the old foundation, cried out sharply, an undercurrent of fright in his voice.

Around the corner of the great rock Court Parker had stepped quietly into view. He was bareheaded and dirt-streaked, but his face nevertheless wore a broad grin, and after the first shock of surprise had passed, Bob Gibson started forward angrily.

"By heck!" he exclaimed irately. "If you think this sort of thing is funny, Court Parker, it's about time somebody taught you--"

"Shut up, Bob!" cut in Ranny, curtly. His quick eye had taken in the streak of blood on Parker's cheek and noted a slight twitching at the corners of the boy's smiling mouth. "You're not hurt, are you, Court?" he added quickly.

Parker shook his head. "Not to speak of." He drew a long breath. "Well, we've found the mine," he went on in a voice which failed to be quite as matter of fact as he evidently tried to make it.

In an instant he was surrounded by the excited boys and fairly bombarded with questions: "Did you fall down the hole?" "What's it like down there?" "How did you get out?"

Court laughed a little shakily and sat down suddenly on a rock. "Give me a chance, can't you?" he begged. "I've only got one tongue, even though I can make that go pretty fast."

"Cut it out and quit worrying him, fellows," ordered Ranny. "Take your time, Court, and start at the beginning. How did you get down the hole?"

"Cinchiest thing you know!" grinned Parker. "I just stepped on the cover and went through. You see, when I went into that crack the hole didn't show at all; there were a lot of branches and stuff over it. One minute I was on solid ground, and the next I was flying through space."

"Gee!" exclaimed Sanson. "How deep was it?"

"Seemed about a mile; but I guess it wasn't more than twenty feet. Luckily there was a lot of leaves and stuff at the bottom, so I landed pretty soft. But when I tried to climb back I found it was too slippery. Then I lost my voice yelling, but nobody came, so I started to look around a bit. It's just one long tunnel, running both ways and braced up by rotten old timbers and things. I had my flash-light in my pocket, so I wasn't afraid of being lost. I took the right-hand turn and--I say, fellows, there's a bear down there!"

"A bear?" chorused the astonished audience as one boy.

"Well, it might be a wildcat or something like that. I only saw its eyes, but I tell you they held me up, all right. About three hundred feet from where I fell in there was another kind of a shaft thing, only not so big, sort of off to one side. It wasn't very deep, either, for when I looked down I saw those two big yellow eyes that didn't seem more than eight or ten feet down. Gee whiz! I was scared. I must have got turned around, too; because, when I came to, I found I was legging it away from the big hole instead of back toward it."

He paused and drew a long breath; his fascinated hearers sighed in sympathy. "Did you go back then?" one of them asked eagerly.

"I was thinking about it," resumed Court, "when my thumb slipped off the flash-key, and ahead of me, not so very far away, was a little spot of light--daylight, you know. You'd better believe I hustled for it. The tunnel had been going up hill quite some, and now it began to get narrower and lower. Before very long I had to get down and crawl, and then I found the light was coming between two rocks through a crack that didn't look more than a foot or so wide. The bottom was pounded down hard in a regular path; I s'pose that was the way the bear got in to its den. Anyhow, there was just room for me to squeeze out, and even then I cut my face and tore these holes in my suit."

"Kind of small, then, for a full-grown bear, I should think," commented Ranny.

Court looked a trifle foolish. "I never thought of that," he confessed. "Still, I bet a wildcat could do it."

"It might--only I haven't heard of any wild-cats being around here."

"What's the matter with our taking a look?" suggested Dale Tompkins.

"Going through the hole Court came out of?" asked Ranny, glancing at him.

"Sure! We've got some flash-lights, and very likely the beast is stuck down that shaft and can't get out. I vote we try it."

Two or three fellows backed him up, but the others showed no great enthusiasm in the venture. They were quite willing, however, to go as far as the outside of the hole, and started off without delay, only to meet Mr. Reed with Mr. Curtis and several scouts coming up at a brisk trot.

When Court's story had been told over again the scoutmasters decided that the investigation had better be made from the end that Court had stumbled into. They had brought the rope with them, and when one end of this was firmly fastened, Mr. Reed slid down into the old mine. He spent some time inspecting the ancient timbering, but finally decided that it was safe enough for those who wished to follow him. This meant the entire assembled crowd, and when all were gathered at the bottom, Court led the way.

The tunnel was fairly wide and over six feet high. It sloped gently upward and was quite dry, thus accounting for the preservation of the massive oak beams that acted as supports. Here and there along the sides were the marks of tools, but scarcely a vestige of ore remained.

"Vein petered out, I suppose," remarked Mr. Curtis. "That's why it was abandoned, of course."

The interest of the scouts, however, was less on the mine than on Court's "wildcat." As they approached the shaft some hurried forward while others kept prudently in the rear.

"He's there yet!" announced Parker, peering over the edge. "See his eyes! I wonder if--"

He did not finish. Mr. Reed flashed the light from his battery into the hole, and Trexler, close beside him, gave an exclamation of surprise.

"Why, it's a coon!"

And so it was; an uncommonly large specimen, to be sure, but still exceedingly harmless and inoffensive. In fact, at the flashes of light and the sight of so many faces peering down on it, the frightened creature shrank close to the side of the pit as if trying to escape.

"It's fallen down and can't get out!" exclaimed Trexler. "Can't I go down and get it, Mr. Reed?"

The hole was barely four feet across and not more than twice as deep--a trial shaft, Mr. Curtis suggested, probably sunk in the search for another vein. Receiving permission, Paul simply hung by his hands and dropped, and the interested spectators saw him lift up the coon.

"The poor thing's half starved," he said. "Let down a couple of coats, fellows, and pull him up. He'll make a dandy camp mascot."

The idea was hailed with delight. There was little trouble in hoisting the creature to the surface and pulling Trexler after him. Then the entire crowd turned back to the entrance shaft, their interest diverted to this new pet.

Back on the surface the assembly whistle was blown, and the two scoutmasters made themselves comfortable while waiting the arrival of the throng they knew would be eager to inspect the mine. The members of Tent Three, however, did not linger. Obtaining permission to return at once to camp, they hustled off, carrying the coon with them, and for the brief remainder of the day they were exceedingly busy.

Pete, as the mascot was christened, had to be fed and housed and cared for, and it took some time to build a crate strong enough to keep him from escaping. At first he threatened to be killed by kindness, but finally Trexler was voted his special guardian, and in a surprisingly short time the animal became noticeably docile and friendly. He had an inordinate curiosity and was as full of mischief as any monkey. But though the cook frowned on him, his popularity with the scouts increased with every day.