Copper Coleson's Ghost

by Edward P. Hendrick

  CHAPTER XXIV THE CHASE AND CAPTURE

  For several moments the boys blinked owlishly in the strong light andfilling their lungs with sweet, fresh air, that seemed indeed like abreath of new life after their long confinement in the close atmosphereof the mine.

  “Hah! This is great!” exhaled Dick, who had regained his nerve andcourage with his first breath of freedom. “I never would have believedthat simple fresh air could smell so good, and besides,” he continued,“it’s a lot of satisfaction to know that we’re giving Slade a taste ofwhat he made us stand.”

  Without unnecessary loss of time, the boys scouted around the house, andamong the scrub oaks they came upon the flivver.

  “This is how Slade used my car last night,” growled Dave, as he pointedto a crumpled fender. “I guess we’re lucky he didn’t wreck it entirely.”

  “Slugger probably had a wild ride getting to a telephone,” remarkedRogers. “He certainly got his gang together in quick time; I’ll say thatmuch for him.”

  “We’d better follow Slade’s plan of getting to the nearest telephone,”decided Ned. “We can call the authorities at Cleveland and let them comeout here to take charge of things from now on.”

  “Sure! That’s the idea! And while we’re waiting for ’em, we’ll have timeto rustle some breakfast!” chirped Tommy Beals, his round face suddenlyregaining its customary cheerfulness.

  “Before we go, let’s roll up this canvas and stow it inside,” suggestedDick. “The secret is ours and maybe we can make some use of it later.”

  It required but a few minutes to return the canvas to its niche in thecellar, and after swinging the stone slab into place against thepossibility of prying eyes, the boys climbed into the car and set outfor Cedar Hollow, whose single gasoline station was adorned with theblue bell of telephone service. While Ned was closeted in the booth, theothers, led by the resourceful Beals, foraged for food at a neighboringfarmhouse with such success that a plentiful breakfast of homely farewas soon in readiness.

  “There’s a squad of plain clothes men on the way,” reported Ned, as hetook his place at the table. “The chief didn’t more than half-believe mewhen I told him we had trapped a gang of rum-runners. He’s fromMissouri, but we’re going to _show_ him!”

  Had Ned realized the resourcefulness of Latrobe or taken intoconsideration the latter’s intimate knowledge of the old mine and itscontents, he might have been a bit less confident regarding his abilityto make good his boast; but for the time being, he continued to eat hisbreakfast in happy ignorance of what was, even then, taking place out atColeson’s.

  Hardly had the meal been disposed of when a big, blue automobile whirledinto the little settlement and stopped with a squeal of brakes in frontof the gasoline station. A tall, official-looking man sprang to theground and advanced to meet the boys who came hurrying from the house.

  “I’m Inspector Baker,” the newcomer introduced himself crisply. “Nowthen, what’s this story about a gang of boot-leggers that you’ve gotlocked in a cave somewhere out here?” and the officer ran his eye overthe group in a manner that boded ill, should it appear that he had beentrifled with.

  “They’re not in a cave; they’re in the old copper mine out atColeson’s,” explained Ned, who in a few words detailed the main facts ofthe situation.

  “Latrobe and Miller, eh!” snapped the inspector. “That’s two of a gangwe’ve been hunting for a year. Casey’s another. I never heard of thisfellow Slade, but if he’s with ’em, that’s evidence enough. Let’s go!”

  Only the roughness of the road, which slowed the speed of the blue car,enabled Dave’s flivver to keep up with the official machine, but bystrenuous exertion the little car held its own against its big rival andwas only seconds behind when the latter came to a stop before the wideporch of the Coleson house.

  “There’s a secret entrance under the house and into the mine,” explainedRogers, as the boys hastened toward the end of the house closelyfollowed by Inspector Baker and his men.

  As they turned the corner of the building, Ned, who was in the lead,stopped in his tracks and stared in astonishment at a pair of deeplyrutted marks which crossed the strip of sand between the house and thewoods. Everywhere the surface had been deep-trampled by hurrying feetand the swinging stone slab that the boys had so carefully closed wasnow wide open.

  “Zowie!” gasped Dick. “They’ve got away!”

  “What’s _that_?” demanded Inspector Baker. “What kind of a yarn isthis?”

  By way of answer Ned could but point dumbly to the opening in thefoundation wall. Advancing cautiously, the officers reconnoitered theaperture and crept into the cellar followed by the boys. A peculiaracrid odor assailed their nostrils and a thin veil of smoke hung like abluish cloud above their heads. One of the men snatched a flashlightfrom his pocket and by its rays revealed the heavy plank door wrenchedfrom its hinges and lying splintered and blackened on the ground.

  “Blasting powder!” growled Inspector Baker, as he sniffed the tell-taleodor.

  “Latrobe knew more about this mine than anybody else!” cried Ned. “Hemust have had a can of powder hidden somewhere down below!”

  “They took most of the cases of whisky with ’em, too!” added Dick, whohad run half-way down the stairs, from which point he could get a viewof the small chamber beneath.

  “I’m afraid it’s a clean get-away,” grumbled the inspector when, after abrief examination, he led the way out of the cellar. “Those wheel tracksshow that the truck went around this end of the house, but that doesn’thelp us much.”

  “They haven’t been gone but a few minutes!” cried Ned, excitedly. “Look!The sand is still running into the deepest wheel ruts!”

  “But in that case we would have met them,” began the officer.

  “The old road!” cried several voices. “They’ve gone out by the oldwood-road!” Pausing an instant to swing shut the stone slab, the boysmade a rush for the flivver and sent it bouncing across the roughstretch of pasture.

  The big blue car was close behind, but when the wood-road was reached,Inspector Baker insisted upon taking the lead. “Latrobe isn’t a fellowto take any chances with,” he shouted. “If we overtake him there may betrouble. You boys keep well behind us and out of danger!” and as heflung this warning over his shoulder, the inspector forced the big carinto the narrow bush-lined road at a reckless speed.

  Close behind came the flivver, taking every turn and twist of thecrooked track with all the skill that Dave Wilbur could muster and, incomplete disregard of orders to the contrary, keeping a scant ten yardsbehind the big car.

  Less than two miles of the difficult road had been traversed when thetruck was sighted ahead. Evidently its occupants were not expectingpursuit, for they were traveling at a moderate pace suited to theroughness of the way. As the roar of pursuing motors reached his ears,Casey, who was at the wheel, sent his clumsy vehicle forward at thelimit of its speed.

  “There’s Slade!” yelped Dick, as a turn of the road gave a glimpse of awhite-shirted figure clinging to the rear of the bouncing truck. Even asDick spoke, Slade was seen to heave one of the heavy cases of bottlesinto the road directly in the path of the big blue car as it rounded thecurve.

  With a ripping crash the automobile struck the obstruction knocking itinto a mass of wood and glass splinters through which the car smashedits way, skidding wildly but regaining its equilibrium uninjured as theroad straightened. Mindful of his tires, Dave swung the flivver aroundthe wreckage and back into the road without much loss of distance.

  “That was a clever trick!” cried Ned. “It may work next time!”

  But before the attempt could be repeated, the fleeing vehicle hadreached the sharp curve, beyond which stood the old shack. Here the roadnarrowed; and crowding the left side in an effort to make the turn, thetruck struck the pile of slabs, lurched crazily across the road, andcrashed head on against the old shanty, through which it plunged forhalf its
length. The boys had a glimpse of a white-shirted figure thatcatapulted from the rear of the wrecked vehicle to fall face downwardamong the weeds. It was up in an instant, and darting forward,disappeared in the thicket.

  With a shriek of its brakes the blue car slid to a stop, and as theflivver drew up alongside, the boys saw Inspector Baker and his men rushtoward the shanty. Before they had covered half the distance, however, aheavy explosion rent the air followed instantly by a sheet of flame. Thegasoline tank of the truck had taken fire and exploded, and in a momentthe shack was burning fiercely.

  Dazed by the force of the collision and half-suffocated by smoke,Latrobe and his two companions staggered from the cabin to be promptlyseized by the officers and hustled into the big car.

  “We won’t be bothered again very soon by those three rascals,” remarkedNed when the blue car had passed the barrier of vines and disappeared onthe highway beyond.

  “No, and I guess Slade has had enough for the time being,” added Dick.“At the rate he was traveling when I last saw him, he must be prettynear the Rocky Mountains by now.”

  “That’s the end of the old shack and the truck, too,” remarked CharlieRogers, as he stood watching the blazing heap of ruins.

  “Yeah, that’s the finish,” agreed Dave Wilbur. “Truck, shanty, and Ned’sblack ants, all gone up in smoke,” he added with a prodigious yawn.“What d’y’say we beat it for home and get a real sleep?”