After several minutes of reading, they looked at each other.
Jeff spoke in a low voice. “Mr. Wellback’s ancestor was in on the robbery! He planned the whole thing.”
“Wow,” said David. “So the old sheriff was a bad guy, not a hero.”
“What’re you talking about?” asked Claire from across the table.
David explained the article to her. “Gus Penny and his posse disappeared with the Silver Spur Bandit! No one ever saw them again. Or any of the loot. Mr. Wellback lied to us.”
Jeff thought a moment. “Well, maybe he doesn’t want us to learn the truth. I’d feel weird if our grandpa was a villain, too.”
“Here’s another problem,” Claire said. “Look at this.” Five atlases were opened to the section for Cabin Creek, with maps of the town and lake.
“Do any of them show the cave?” Jeff asked.
She shook her head. “No. All the maps of Lost Island are missing.”
“What!” he cried in a loud whisper.
“You’re kidding,” said David.
“Nope. Not kidding.” Claire showed her cousins where pages had been torn out. “Someone else must be trying to solve the mystery.”
David whispered, “I wonder who?”
“Maybe someone who likes to solve puzzles,” said Jeff, remembering Mr. Wellback’s crossword puzzle dictionary. “Or someone who doesn’t want us to find the cave.”
The cousins looked out the window. Mr. Wellback was probably home by now.
The librarian sitting at the reference desk was new. Claire had never seen her before. She showed the woman the damaged books.
“See?” Claire said. “Someone stole these pages.”
The librarian looked over her shoulder, then pushed the books aside. She was blinking and would not look at Claire. “Well, what d’you expect me to do?” she asked. “Produce the missing maps out of thin air?”
“No, ma’am, I just thought—”
“Run along now, little girl. I’m swamped here with more pressing details.” She turned to a stack of magazines by her computer.
Back at the table, the cousins kept their eyes on the librarian.
“She sure seems nervous,” David whispered. “She keeps looking all around.”
The woman picked up a phone and punched the keypad to make a call. While speaking in a low voice, she watched the children.
“Why is she staring at us?” Jeff asked. “She’s acting kind of suspicious.”
Claire nodded. “I think she knows something.”
“I bet you’re right,” agreed David.
12
In a Hurry
The next morning, Jeff and David ate breakfast in their kitchen nook. They could see across the creek to Claire’s log house. Uncle Wyatt was backing his jeep out of the driveway.
David’s spoon paused over his cereal bowl. “There goes Claire,” he said.
Jeff spread peanut butter on his toast. “Too bad she and Yum-Yum will be gone until dinner.”
The brothers looked at each other. They were thinking the same thing.
“Now’s our chance,” said David. “We can do some exploring our way.”
Jeff didn’t want their cousin to feel left out, but he was tired of research. And he didn’t want to be stuck at their cabin all day. “Yeah,” he said. “What’re we waiting for?”
With just two boys and two dogs, the canoe sailed swiftly over to the sandy cove. Jeff and David wore baseball caps to keep the sun out of their eyes. So far, it was the hottest day of June.
The fort was shaded by the pine tree growing through its roof. Because the summer heat bothered old Tessie, the boys put her inside with Rascal so she wouldn’t be lonesome. They went to the spring to fill their canteens and the dogs’ drinking bowl.
Packs on their backs, they closed the gate. Even though the lookout tower was just a short hike away, they stopped to listen. Blue jays squawked from the trees, and a pair of squirrels chased each other through the brush.
“That noise is just animals,” Jeff said. “I don’t think the McCoy boys are out here. We would’ve heard their outboard motor. And their loud voices. I bet they haven’t been back since that first time.”
“I hope you’re right,” said David.
The lookout tower was easier to climb now that they were used to it. When they reached the platform, they took out their binoculars. They felt anxious as they scanned the island for intruders. They could see their canoe on the beach, but no other boats on the lake.
However, on the far shore someone stood on the dock by their house—an old man with binoculars.
“Mr. Wellback!” David cried. “He’s been watching us. We better hurry and find the cave before he decides to come out here.”
Jeff pointed to a cluster of bushes below. “What about that boulder that looks like a hill? There could be a cave around there. Let’s check it out again.”
“Yeah!” David stretched his leg down to the next branch and began his hurried descent. Jeff followed. Twice Jeff stepped on his brother’s hand by accident, but David didn’t complain.
Explorers didn’t worry about such small matters.
A few minutes later, the brothers stood before a wall of brush and scrub pine. They drank from their canteens. The heat had made them thirsty. They hadn’t been wary of Lost Island since that first day with the storm, but now Jeff felt uneasy again. Rain clouds had suddenly darkened the sky. A breeze stirred up dirt.
Just then a candy wrapper fluttered in the wind. It crossed their path and became trapped in the underbrush.
"Oh, no," David cried. "The McCoys were here!" Trying to track down the proof, he crawled after the wrapper. Only the bottoms of his sneakers were visible as he disappeared.
A moment later, David yelled for his brother. His voice echoed as if he were in an empty room. “Quick! You won’t believe this.”
On hands and knees, Jeff followed under the scratchy boughs of a spruce tree. Down a slope, he finally reached David and stood up.
Before them lay a narrow opening to a cavern. It was dark and they could feel cool air coming from within.
“Is this really it?” they asked each other. “No wonder it was hard to find.”
Suddenly the sky flashed with lightning. They hurried to stand in the safety of the cave’s deep entrance. A loud rumble of thunder was soon followed by rain.
“Whew,” Jeff said, taking off his cap. “At least it’s dry here.”
“Think we should go in if there’s a storm?” David wondered.
“Well, it’s too dangerous to canoe home right now,” Jeff reminded him. “And we’re here. We may as well have a look.”
“Okay. I guess so.”
“Let’s make sure we’re ready. Got your flashlight? Here’s mine.”
David rummaged through his pack. “Check,” he said, clicking his on.
“What about your sketchpad and pencil, so we can map out this place?”
“Check.”
“Canteens?”
“Check,” they both answered.
“Walkie-talkies?”
“Check,” they again answered.
“Trail mix?”
“Check.”
“Chocolate?”
“Uh ... how about red licorice?”
“That’ll do. Let’s go.”
“You first!” cried David.
And into the cave they went.
13
Twists and Turns
The boys’ flashlights revealed stone walls that felt cool to the touch. The ceiling was just tall enough for them to stand without bumping their heads. A sharp, musty odor stung their eyes.
“Something smells bad,” David said. “It’s giving me the creeps! Do you think it’s a bear? Or a dead body?”
“I hope not!” said Jeff. “And I hope it’s not the stinkin’ McCoy boys.” He shone his light to where the path split into two directions. “Let’s go here.”
David paused.
“Okay. But go slow. I don’t want to meet a grizzly.”
The smell grew stronger as they followed twists and turns of the narrow path. Something crunched underfoot. David shone his flashlight to the ground.
“Gross! What are those?” he asked.
Jeff bent down to look. “I think they’re rat droppings. Are those little bones?”
“Eew,” David replied.
Just then, a loud flurry of wings whooshed overhead. The brothers yelled as they felt the wings graze their scalps. Ducking, they saw hundreds and hundreds of bats, squeaking like mice. The boys crouched low and threw their arms overhead. But still they could feel prickles as the tiny mammals scraped their shoulders before flying into the darkness.
“Yuck!” the boys cried.
“Maybe we should turn back,” David said.
Jeff rubbed his hair to get rid of something sticky. “Five more minutes, please, David?”
“I guess so,” said the younger boy. “But I don’t like it in here.”
When it was quiet again, their courage returned.
“Wonder where the Silver Spur Bandit went hiding?” Jeff yelled to hear his voice echo.
“Me, too,” David hollered, swinging his arms. “I wonder how he got away on his bloody stump!”
“The McCoys probably ran home crying when they saw all those bats!”
“Babies!”
“Yeah,” they both shouted.
Suddenly Jeff’s flashlight began to blink. He tapped it against his palm. It blinked two more times, then it went out. Now the walls of the cave seemed to close in around them.
“I knew we should’ve brought extra batteries,” Jeff said. “At least yours works.”
David still felt brave. “Hey, Jeff, watch this.” He put his light under his chin. The glow shining up cast his face in frightening shadow. In a low voice he said, “Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.”
“Cut it out, David. We need to turn around and—”
“Shh. What was that?”
“What d’you mean?”
“I heard something.”
“I told you to cut it out.”
“No, I’m serious.” David was whispering.
Skeecht ... skeecht ...
“There! That scratching sound. Hear it now? Maybe the McCoys are still here.”
A new noise startled them. A high-pitched howling. They grabbed each other.
Whooo ... whooo ... whooooo-ooh ...
David felt goose bumps on the back of his neck. “I hope that’s just the storm!” he cried.
“Let’s get outta here!” yelled Jeff.
“I’m right behind you!”
Hurrying, the brothers retraced their steps to the entrance of the cave. But it was dark where the opening had been. There was no warm air or sunlight. Something blocked their way. They could hear wind shrieking down a distant corridor.
Out of breath from running, they tried to gather their thoughts. David stood back to give his flashlight a wide view. They stared at a barricade made from logs roped together. Jeff pushed, but it didn’t budge.
“I can’t believe it!” he cried, pounding on the wood. “Someone trapped us in here.”
“But who?” David kicked it with his foot. “Who knows we’re here?”
The boys fell silent. A trickle of dirt fell from overhead, splashing into a puddle. Somewhere down the long tunnel, a tiny animal scurried away.
“Rex and Ronald!” said David. “They’ve been watching us the whole time.”
“Or—”
“Or who?”
“Or Mr. Wellback,” Jeff answered.
“Huh,” said David. “So that’s why he was buying all that rope and wood. We were right about him. He doesn’t want us to find any gold.”
“Probably,” Jeff said, nodding. “And now that I think about it, the McCoys couldn’t have built this barricade so fast. Even though their dad owns the surplus store, they’re lazy.”
“Yeah, lazy loudmouths,” agreed David, his hands on his hips. “So now what?”
Jeff took off his pack and brought out his walkie-talkie. He clicked it on, turning a dial. “Claire Posey,” he said. “Come in, Claire. Over.”
There was no sound. Not even a crackle.
Jeff tried again. Then David tried his.
“No reception,” said Jeff. “This tunnel is like a tomb.”
“Well, I better save our batteries.” David snapped off his flashlight. The complete darkness felt as if a hood had been pulled over their heads. It was so black they blinked and blinked, but could see nothing.
“At least we left Mom a note. She’ll send a search party.”
“But she won’t be home until two in the morning. What should we do until then?”
“First off, we have to stay calm.”
“Okay.”
“And not panic.”
“I don’t care about the legend anymore.”
“Me, neither.”
“Dad would say we should’ve prepared better,” David admitted. “He never would have come into a cave without good, solid plans, and letting people know where he was.”
“Neither would Claire.”
“You’re right. I wish we had waited for her.”
14
Trapped
The brothers sat in the darkness. Though it was summer, they grew cold leaning against the stone wall. The cave felt chilly and damp, as if it had never seen sunlight. There was now a dreadful sound nearby: the drip-drip-drip of water.
“Jeff, the ground feels like it’s getting wet. What if this place floods? We’ll drown.”
“I don’t think the dripping will cause a flood, David.”
“Well, we’ve gotta do something. I’m turning on my light, okay?”
There was a click, then brightness. They squinted.
“All right,” said Jeff, scuffling to his feet. “We’ve been sitting here long enough. Let’s do like on the cop shows and kick in this door.”
“Yeah! On the count of three?”
David propped the flashlight so it shone on the barricade. “Ready.”
“Okay. One! Two! Three!” The boys raised their knees to their chests and gave the door a sideways kick. Nothing happened.
“Again!” They counted, then kicked as hard as they could. The wood creaked. They kept at it until a strand of rope loosened, then split apart. Logs tumbled to the ground. The noise rumbled through the tunnel.
But instead of sunlight and trees on the other side, there was more darkness.
“Where are we?” Jeff said. “This isn’t where we came in. And this barricade is just a bunch of old wood with rotting rope. It’s probably been here for ages. Mr. Wellback didn’t do this. And neither did the McCoys, that’s for sure.”
David pushed at the logs until he could step through. His foot splashed in a puddle. “Hey, this is some kind of room.” He shone his light. The wall was wet.
Now David’s light began to flicker ... flicker ... flicker. Then it went out completely. He switched it off and on several times. “Uh-oh,” he said. “Jeff, I can’t see you.”
“Hold on. I’ll get my matches.” There was a rattling as Jeff went through his pack. Soon, a flare lit up his face. The small flame comforted them, but lasted only ten seconds. It scorched his fingers as it burned out.
“Can I try?” David asked.
“Okay. Here. But be careful. We need them to find our way back to the entrance.”
David made a grand display of striking his match and waving it in the air. But when its flame started burning his hand he yelled, “Ouch!” And once again it was dark.
A moment passed.
“David? You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, what’s the matter? Why don’t you light another?”
“I dropped them.”
“So? Pick ’em up.”
“Um, there’s a puddle.”
“You mean—?”
“I’m sorry, Jeff. The matches a
re sopping wet.”
15
Total Darkness
The blackness reminded the brothers of a game they used to play. They would take turns hiding in their bedroom closet. Whoever stayed in the longest without getting scared, won. But today wasn’t a game.
“This is freaking me out,” said David.
“Same here.”
“Maybe we should try to go backward, Jeff. I bet we’d find the entrance after a while.”
“But it’s too dark. Another wrong turn and who knows where we’d end up? Remember how Dad always told us to stay in one place if we get lost?”
“Okay.”
After a while Jeff said, “Hey! Do you see that?”
“What?”
Jeff pointed in the darkness to a small light overhead. At first he thought it was a firefly, because it appeared to be moving. But when he tried to touch it, it was beyond his reach.
“David,” he said. “Does that look like a hole to you? In the ceiling?”
The brothers stared for a moment.
“Yeah.”
“Here, I’ll boost you up.” With an oomph, he lifted the smaller boy.
“Oh, wow,” David cried. “I can see trees and blue sky. Looks like it stopped raining.”
“Try to make the hole bigger,” said Jeff. “Maybe we can climb out.”
David put his fist through and scratched at the dirt outside. Pebbles and soggy pine needles spilled onto their heads. “Jeff, let me down. I have an idea!”
In the darkness, the brothers searched their packs until they found their pocketknives. For twenty minutes, they took turns holding each other on their shoulders. They chiseled at the hole, but made little progress.
“Solid granite. At this rate, it’ll take us years.” Jeff sighed with frustration.
“Well, I just want to get out of here,” David said. “What if no one ever finds us?”
The Secret of Robber's Cave (Cabin Creek Mysteries Book 1) Page 4
