by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER XVI
THE UNEXPECTED
This was both a startling and unexpected discovery. Dan gripped Billy’sarm again, enjoining silence, and the two boys crept away from thevicinity of the hollow stump.
The rosy glow above its summit—the smoke rising above the tree-tops—thewarmth of the dead tree, so that the snow did not stick to it while therough bark of the live trees was now crusted with the fast fallingflakes—these facts were all to be pieced together. And the dovetailingdid not take long when Dan put his mind to it!
“It’s a smokepipe—a chimney,” he whispered.
“What is?” muttered Billy, puzzled.
“That hollow stump.”
“Crickey! where’s the fire?” demanded Billy, in amazement.
“Under the ground—somewhere. There’s a cave—a den in the rocks. Somehowa smoke flue has been dug to the hollow tree——”
“If it was hot enough to reflect upon the snow above the top,” objectedBilly, “the old tree would be afire.”
“Not if they had lined it with clay, and baked the clay first,”responded Dan.
“Gee, Dan! you’ve got a head!”
“I hope so,” returned Dan, laughing.
“But could the dummy have done all that——?”
“How do we know who is in the cavern?” snapped Dan. “And take it fromme—it was somebody beside that dumb fellow who contrived this hide-out.These people must be outlaws of some kind, Billy—surest thing you know!”
“Of course they are—if they stole our boat,” agreed Billy.
“We don’t know who they are,” said Dan, thoughtfully. “And we don’t knowhow to get into their camp, anyway. Goodness, Billy! maybe we’ll wish we_did_ know, even if they are pretty tough citizens. Where are we goingto find shelter in this blizzard?”
The storm was increasing mightily. The snow drove down through thebranches with a startled “sh-sh-sh.” This drowned even the whining ofthe wind through the taller tree-tops.
The boys made little sound as they moved about, for the snow deadenedevery other noise. They stood together for some moments withoutspeaking.
To be out in such a time as this was neither pleasant nor safe. The coldwas stinging, and one might easily freeze to death on such a night. Eventhe idea of being covered up in the snow was no comfortable thought,although they might remain thus sheltered till morning without anyserious injury. Many times Dan and Billy had uncovered their sheep aftera serious snowstorm, and the lads knew that a snowdrift was porous andthe heat of the body thus mantled would keep them from freezing.
“Besides,” whispered Dan, at last, “we can find our way down to the boatagain, and cover ourselves with a part of the sail.”
“But how about this dummy?” muttered Billy. “Suppose he’s alone? Ibelieve he’d give us shelter.”
“We’ll look,” agreed Dan. “But for goodness sake be careful.”
“How are we going about it, Dan?”
“Round and round. Take that hollow stump for the center. We’ll circlearound until we find the entrance to his den.”
“But Lettie and I were all over this island,” objected Billy.
“You didn’t know what you were looking for; did you?”
“Humph! I suppose not.”
“Now we know,” chuckled Dan. “We’re looking for a hole in the groundwhere there is a fire. Goodness! won’t it be fine to be warm again?”
For the boys were badly chilled by now. Billy could scarcely keep histeeth from chattering.
From where they stood the boys could dimly see the black trunk of thehollow tree which Dan believed was the chimney of the mysterious den inthe rocks.
“You go one way; I’ll go the other. Don’t lose sight of the tree,”advised the older Speedwell.
They separated. The snow sifted down so thickly that it was not longbefore they lost sight of each other. It was no easy matter to get aboutamong the boulders and roughage of the hillside. Big rocks cropped outin places; and there were many stumps, and masses of vines and bushes totrip them. That all these obstructions were pretty well masked in thefallen snow made the going all the harder.
Billy had every confidence in his brother’s judgment; and it did seem asthough Dan must be right about the cave and the strange chimneyconnected with it. Somewhere underneath where they trod was a warmhollow, sheltering, perhaps, only the boy whom they called “Dummy.” Ifhe was alone, Billy was sure he would give Dan and himself shelter.
But they wanted to be sure of that. Billy wasn’t desirous of “mixing in”with those three masked robbers who had treated old John Bromley soroughly.
And so thinking, as he crept on over the higher part of the island abovethe hollow stump, Billy suddenly stepped right out into space. At least,so it seemed. He put his foot upon a bank of snow, and “slumped rightin”!
The snow had treacherously filled a narrow cut between two boulders.Billy dropped to his chin in the soft, cold mass, and then found that hewas wedged so tightly that he couldn’t get out.
He dared not shout to Dan. _That_ might be their undoing indeed. Ifthere were men about whom they must perforce consider enemies, Billy wasdetermined not to bring them out here.
So he struggled, and panted, and wrenched himself from side to side, andtried his very best to seize upon the edge of the rock above him anddraw his body up. All to no purpose!
He was just as much a prisoner as though he were bound with cords. Thesnow was fast drifting over him, too. Billy was already badly chilled,and the thought of being covered completely by the snow made him shakeall the more.
Indeed, he was in a bad way. He was too courageous to yell for hisbrother and thus run the risk of attracting others in the neighborhood;but it did seem to Billy as though he were doomed to be smothered,standing erect between the two rocks.
Above the imperilled boy the snow whirled in ghostly forms. Likeshrouded figures of lost spirits the snow drifted through the opengrove, passing the frightened lad in a dreary procession. The “sh-sh-sh”of the falling flakes seemed now like an actual voice.
There came a white figure more certain in its outlines than the others.Billy struggled to raise himself again, his lips parted, tempted toshriek. The figure came nearer.
“Goodness gracious! what’s the matter with you?” gasped Dan’s anxiousvoice. “I’ve been hunting for you everywhere.”
“Crickey! is that you, Dannie?” returned Billy. “I thought I was donefor.”
“Why didn’t you yell?” demanded Dan, laying hold of his brother’swrists.
“And start something, maybe?”
“Well! you plucky young duffer,” exclaimed Dan, in some pride. “Now! outyou come!”
Billy lay panting at his feet for some moments. Dan examined the holeinto which his brother had fallen.
“Don’t suppose that’s a way into the den, do you?”
“So—solid under my feet, Dan,” gasped Billy. “That’s no entrance, Ibet.”
“Come on, then. We’ll keep together this time. Haven’t found a sign ofthe way in yet.”
They took a wider circle about the hollow stump. Stumbling on, arm inarm (for Billy was getting exhausted, although he would not own up toit), the Speedwells made another complete round without discoveringanything.
The way was so rough that it was impossible to recall just where thehollow stump stood. The boys had reached the bottom of the hill and theshore of the island was near at hand. But in that direction they couldsee but a short distance. The snow was like a thick curtain before theireyes.
“Crickey, Dan!” groaned Billy. “We’ve lost it.”
“Oh, I guess the old stump hasn’t moved,” said Dan, cheerfully. “It’s upyonder—somewhere!”
At that moment they again caught sight of the rosy glow in thetree-tops. “See!” exclaimed Dan. “More heat. Jingo! that must be a greatdraft.”
“They must have some way of shutting off the draft,
and then opening itagain,” said Billy, in a puzzled tone. “There! it’s gone.”
“I’ve got it” exclaimed Dan, suddenly. “I bet that’s a forge.”
“A forge?” repeated Billy, in wonder.
“They’d want a tall chimney for a forge on account of needing a strongdraft,” declared Dan. “That’s what it is.”
“But a forge in a cave?” queried his brother, doubtfully. “What for?”
“Ah! that’s another question,” returned Dan. “I don’t see that far,yet.”
But in secret Dan believed he had guessed the business of the men whohad once, at least, occupied the cave, whether they were there now, ornot. He said nothing to Billy about this, however.
The younger boy had stumbled into a heap of split wood. Dummy—orsomebody else—had spent some time in preparing a great heap of fuelagainst just such a storm as this that now raged over the valley of theColasha.
“And Dan,” whispered Billy, eagerly, “wouldn’t he have his woodpilepretty near to the door of the cave? What do you think?”
“I think you’ve got a good head on you,” returned Dan, promptly. “Let’sgo careful here.”
Right at hand was a thick, low clump of bushes. The snow was heaped uponand into this brush, until it was waist high, only the tops of thebushes sticking out.
And, strangely enough, there seemed to be a narrow path, crooked as aram’s horn, but quite plain—through the midst of this brush-clump.
“Look, there!” exclaimed the watchful Dan. “Leads right to the steepside of that rock. Come on.”
“But there’s no way of getting through that big boulder!” gasped Billy.
“Under it, perhaps,” ventured Dan.
He stooped as he spoke and tossed the snow aside. He got below theinterlocked branches of the bushes, and knelt upon the stony ground.There _was_ a sort of a tunnel under the brush. The ground was packedhard.
“By the paws of some wild animal that must have used this runway once,”whispered Dan. “It leads to his den.”
“I hope it isn’t at home,” chattered Billy.
“But there will be somebody else at home—sure! Come on—softly.”
In half a minute the two boys, Dan ahead, and both on hands and knees,had crept to the foot of the huge rock that seemed so impassable from alittle distance.
Underneath the foot of the boulder, however, was a narrow passageentering the hillside. Without doubt it had once been the lair of a wildanimal.
But Dan and Billy did not apprehend the appearance of any such tenant ofthe hollow in the hillside. It was long since any dangerous animal hadbeen seen in the woods about Riverdale.
And it was man that had built the fire. The two boys crept a little wayinto the passage and listened. In a moment they heard a high pitchedvoice—a voice shrieking, it seemed, in pain and fright. But the words—ifwords the person uttered—were quite unintelligible.
“What d’ye know about that?” whispered Billy, forgetting at once his ownmisfortunes. “There’s trouble up there——”
Again and again the shrieks echoed down the passage. Then followed therough tones of a deeper voice. The man spoke in anger—there was no doubtof that—and instantly the shriller voice cried out again.
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