The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

Tom wondered what enjoyment Mr. Parker got out of life, when he was always looking for some calamity to happen, but the scientist seemed to take as much pleasure in his gloomy forebodings now, as he had on Earthquake Island.

  They reached the vicinity of Leadville the next day, but took care to keep high above the city, so that the airship could not be observed. With powerful glasses they examined the mountainous country, looking for the little settlement of Indian Ridge.

  “There it is!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks, just as dusk was settling down. “I can make out the hotel I stopped at. Now we can really begin our search. The next thing is to find the stone head, and then, I think, I will have my bearings.”

  “We’ll begin the hunt for that landmark in the morning,” said Tom.

  High in the air hovered the Red Cloud. At that distance above the earth she must have looked like some great bird, and the adventurers thought it unlikely that any one in the vicinity of Leadville would observe them.

  The quest for the great mountain peak, that looked like a stone head, was under way. Back and forth sailed the airship. Sometimes she was enveloped in fog, and no sight could be had of the earth below. At other times there were rain storms, which likewise prevented a view. Mr. Parker was on the lookout for his predicted mountain landslide, but it did not occur, and he was much disappointed.

  “It’s queer I can’t pick out that landmark,” said Mr. Jenks after two days of weary searching, when their eyes were strained from long peering through telescopes. “I’m sure it was around Indian Ridge, yet we’ve covered almost all the ground in this neighborhood, and I haven’t had a glimpse of it.”

  “Perhaps it was destroyed in a landslide, or some cataclysm of nature,” suggested Mr. Parker. “That is very possible.”

  “If that’s the case we’re going to have a hard time to locate the cave of the diamond makers,” answered Mr. Jenks, “but I hope it isn’t so.”

  They continued the search for another day, and then Tom, as they sat in the comfortable cabin of the airship that night, hovering almost motionless (for the motor had been shut down) made a proposition.

  “Why not descend in some secluded place,” he suggested, “and wander around on foot, making inquiries of the miners. They may know where the stone head is, or they may even know about Phantom Mountain.”

  “Good idea,” spoke Mr. Jenks. “We’ll do it.”

  Accordingly, the next morning, the Red Cloud was lowered in a good but lonely landing place, and securely moored. It was in a valley, well screened from observation, and the craft was not likely to be seen, but, to guard against any damage being done to it by passing hunters or miners, Mr. Parker and Mr. Damon agreed to remain on guard in it, while Tom and Mr. Jenks spent a day or two traveling around, making inquiries.

  The young inventor and his companion proceeded on foot to a small settlement, where they hired horses on which to make their way about. They were to be gone two days, and in that time they hoped to get on the right trail.

  CHAPTER XII

  THE GREAT STONE HEAD

  It was a wild and desolate country in which Tom Swift and Mr. Jenks were traveling. Villages were far apart, and they were at best but small settlements. In their journeys from place to place they met few travelers.

  But of these few they made cautious inquiries as to the location of Phantom Mountain, or the landmark known as the great stone head. Prospectors, miners and hunters, whom they asked, shook their heads.

  “I’ve heard of Phantom Mountain,” said one grizzled miner, “but I couldn’t say where it is. Maybe it’s only a fish story—the place may not even exist.”

  “Oh, it does, for I’ve been there!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks.

  “Then why don’t you go back to it?” asked the miner.

  “Because I can’t locate it again,” was the reply.

  “Humph! Mighty queer if you’ve seen a place once, and can’t get to it again,” and the man looked as if he thought there was something strange about Tom and his companion. Mr. Jenks did not want to say that he had been taken to the mountain blindfolded, for that would have caused too much talk.

  “I think if we spent tonight in a place where the miners congregate, listened to their talk, and put a few casual questions to them, more as if we were only asking out of idle curiosity, we might learn something,” suggested Tom.

  “Very well, we’ll try that scheme.”

  Accordingly, after they had left the suspicious miner the two proceeded to a small milling town, not far from Indian Ridge. There they engaged rooms for the night at the only hotel, and, after supper they sat around the combined dance hall and gambling place.

  There were wild, rough scenes, which were distasteful to Tom, and to Mr. Jenks, but they felt that this was their only chance to get on the right trail, and so they stayed. As strangers in a western mining settlement they were made roughly welcome, and in response to their inquiries about the country, they were told many tales, some of which were evidently gotten up for the benefit of the “tenderfeet.”

  “Is there a place around here called Phantom Mountain?” asked Tom, at length, as quietly as he could.

  “Never heard of it, stranger,” replied a miner who had done most of the talking. “I never heard of it, and what Bill Slatterly don’t know ain’t worth knowin’. I’m Bill Slatterly,” he added, lest there be some doubt on that score.

  “Isn’t there some sort of a landmark around here shaped like a great stone head?” went on Tom, after some unimportant questions. “Seems to me I’ve heard of that.”

  “Nary a one,” answered Mr. Slatterly. “No stone heads, and no Phantom Mountains—nary a one.

  “Who says there ain’t no Phantom Mountains?” demanded an elderly miner, who had been dozing in one corner of the room, but who was awakened by Slatterly’s loud voice. “Who says so?”

  “I do,” answered the one who claimed to know everything.

  “Then you’re wrong!” Tom’s heart commenced beating faster than usual.

  “Do you mean to say you’ve seen Phantom Mountain, Jed Nugg?” demanded Slatterly.

  “No, I ain’t exactly seen it, an’ I don’t want to, but there is such a place, about sixty mile from here. Folks says it’s haunted, and them sort of places I steer clear from.”

  “Can you tell me about it?” asked Mr. Jenks, eagerly. “I am interested in such things.”

  “I can’t tell you much about it,” was the reply, “and I wouldn’t git too interested, if I was you. It might not be healthy. All I know is that one time my partner and I were in hard luck. We got grub-staked, and went out prospectin’. We strayed into a wild part of the country about sixty mile from here, and one night we camped on a mountain—a wild, desolate place it was too.”

  The miner stopped, and began leisurely filling his pipe.

  “Well?” asked Tom, trying not to let his voice sound too eager.

  “Well, that was Phantom Mountain.”

  The miner seemed to have finished his story.

  “Is that all?” asked Mr. Jenks. “How did you know it was Phantom Mountain?”

  “’Cause we seen the ghost—my partner and I—that’s why!” exclaimed the man, puffing on his pipe. “As I said, we was campin’ there, and ’long about midnight we seen somethin’ tall and white, and all shimmerin’, with a sort of yellow fire, slidin’ down the side of the mountain It made straight for our camp.”

  “Huh! Guess you run, didn’t you, Jed?” asked Bill Slatterly.

  “Course we did. You’d a run too, if you seen a ghost comm’ at you, an’ firm’ a gun.”

  “Ghosts can’t fire guns!” declared Bill. “I guess you dreamed it, Jed.”

  “Ghosts can’t fire guns, eh? That’s all you know about it. This one did, and to prove I didn’t dream it, there was a bullet hole in my hat next mornin’. I could prove it, too, only I ain’t got that hat any more. But that was Phantom Mountain, strangers, an’ my advice to you is to keep away from it. I was on it but I didn’t exactly see
it, ’cause it was dark at the time.”

  “Was it near a peak that looked like a stone head?” asked Tom.

  “It were, stranger, but I didn’t take much notice of it. Me and my partner got out of them diggin’s next day, and I never went back. I ain’t never said much about this place, but it’s called Phantom Mountain all right, and I ain’t the only one that’s seen a ghost there. Other grub-stakers has had the same experience.”

  “Why ain’t I never heard about it?” demanded Bill, suspiciously.

  “’Cause as why you’re allers so busy talkin’ that you don’t never listen to nothin’ I reckon,” was Jed’s answer, amid laughter.

  “Can you tell us what trail to take to get there?” asked Tom, of the miner.

  “Yes, it’s called the old silver trail, and you strike it by goin’ to a place called Black Gulch, about forty mile from here. Then it’s twenty mile farther on. But take my advice and don’t go.”

  “Can it be reached by way of Indian Ridge?” asked Mr. Jenks, wondering how he had been taken to the cave of the diamond makers. He did not remember Black Gulch.

  “Yes, you can git there by Indian Ridge way, but it’s more dangerous. You’re likely to lose your way, for that’s a trail that’s seldom traveled.” Mr. Jenks thought that, perhaps, was the reason the gang had taken him that way. “It’s easier to get to the stone head and Phantom Mountain by Black Gulch, but it ain’t healthy to go there, strangers, take my advice on that,” concluded the miner, as he prepared to go to sleep again.

  Tom could scarcely contain the exultation he felt. At last, it seemed, they were on the trail. He motioned to Mr. Jenks, and they slipped quietly from the place, just as another dance was beginning.

  “Now for Black Gulch!” cried Tom. “We must hurry back to the airship, and tell the good news.

  “It’s too late tonight,” decided Mr. Jenks, and so they waited until morning, when they made an early start.

  They found Mr. Damon and Mr. Parker anxiously awaiting their return. Mr. Damon blessed so many things that he was nearly out of breath, and Mr. Parker related something of the observations he had made.

  “I think I have discovered traces of a dormant volcano,” he said. “I am in hopes that it will have an eruption while we are here.”

  “I’m not,” spoke Tom, decidedly. “We’ll start for Black Gulch as soon as possible.”

  The airship once more rose in the air, and, following the directions the miner had given him, Tom pointed his craft for the depression in the mountains which had been given the name Black Gulch. It was reached in a short time, and then, making a turn up a long valley the airship proceeded at reduced speed.

  “We ought to see that stone head soon now,” spoke Tom, as he peered from the windows of the pilot house.

  “It’s queer we didn’t notice it when we were up in the air,” remarked Mr. Jenks. “We’ve been over this place before, I’m sure of it.”

  The next moment Mr. Damon uttered a cry. “Bless my watch-chain!” he exclaimed. “Look at that!”

  He pointed off to the left. There, jutting out from the side of a steep mountain peak was a mass of stone—black stone—which, as the airship slowly approached, took the form and shape of a giant’s head.

  “That’s it! That’s it!” cried Tom. “The great stone head!”

  “And now for Phantom Mountain and the diamonds!” shouted Mr. Jenks, as Tom let the airship slowly settle to the bottom of the valley.

  CHAPTER XIII

  ON PHANTOM MOUNTAIN

  Out from the Red Cloud piled Tom and the others. They made a rush for the irregular mass of rock which bore so strong a resemblance to the head of some gigantic man.

  “That’s the one! That’s the thing I saw when they were taking me along here blindfolded!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks. “I’m sure we’re on the right trail, now!”

  “But what gets me, though,” remarked Mr. Damon, “is why we couldn’t see that landmark when we were up in the air. We had a fine view, and ought to have been able to pick it out with the telescopes.”

  The adventurers saw the reason a few seconds later. The image was visible only from one place, and that was directly looking up the valley. If one went too far to the right or left the head disappeared from view behind jutting crags, and it was impossible to see it from overhead, because the head was almost under a great spur of a mighty mountain.

  “We might have hunted for it a week in the airship, and been directly over it,” said Tom, “and yet we would never have seen it.”

  “Yes, but we never would have gotten here in such good shape if it hadn’t been for your wonderful craft,” declared Mr. Jenks. “It brought us here safely and quickly, and enabled us to elude the men who tried to keep us back. We’re here in spite of them. If we had traveled by train they might have interfered with us in a dozen ways.”

  “That’s so,” agreed Mr. Damon. “Well, now we’re here, what’s to be done? Which way do we start to reach the cave where the diamonds are manufactured, Mr. Jenks?”

  “That I can’t say. As you know, I only had a momentary glimpse of this stone head as they wore taking me along the trail. Then one the men noticed that the bandage had slipped and he pulled it into place. So I really can’t say which direction to take now, in order to discover the secret.”

  “How long after you saw the head before you reached the cave?” asked Tom. “In that way we may be able to tell how far away it is.”

  “Well, I should say it was about two or three hours after I saw the head, before we got to the halting place, and I was carried into the cave. That would make it several miles from here, for we went in a wagon.”

  “Yes, and they might have driven in a round-about way, in order to deceive you,” suggested Mr. Damon. “At best we have but a faint idea where the diamond cave is, but we must search for it; eh, Tom?”

  “Certainly. We’ll start right in. And as the airship will be of but little service to us now, I suggest that we leave it in this valley. It is very much secluded, and no one will harm it, I think. We can then start off prospecting, for I have a large portable tent, and we can carry enough food with us, with what game we can shoot, to enable us to live. I have a regular camping outfit on board.”

  “Fine!” cried Mr. Parker, “and that will give me a chance to make some observations among the mountains, and perhaps I can predict when a landslide, or an eruption of some dormant volcano, may occur.”

  “Bless my stars!” cried Mr. Damon. “I don’t wish you any bad luck, Mr. Parker, but I sincerely hope nothing of the sort happens! We had enough of that on Earthquake Island!”

  “One can not halt the forces of nature,” said the scientist, solemnly. “There are many towering peaks around here which may contain old volcanoes. And I notice the presence of iron ore all about. This must be a wonderful place in a thunder and lightning storm.”

  “Why?” asked Tom, curiously.

  “Because lightning would be powerfully attracted here by the presence of the metal. In fact there is evidence that many of the peaks have been struck by lightning,” and the scientist showed curious, livid scars on the stone faces of the peaks within sight.

  “Then this is a good place to stay away from in a storm,” observed Mr. Damon. “However, we won’t worry about that now. If this is the landmark Mr. Jenks was searching for, then we must be in the vicinity of Phantom Mountain.”

  “I think we are,” declared the diamond seeker. “Probably it is within sight now, but there are so many peaks, and this is such a wild and desolate part of the country that we may have trouble in locating it.”

  “We’ve got to make a beginning, anyhow,” decided Tom, “and the sooner the better. Come, we’ll make up our camping kits, and start out.”

  It was something to know that they were on the right trail, and it was a relief to be able to busy oneself, and not be aimlessly searching for a mysterious landmark. They all felt this, and soon the airship was taken to a secluded part of the valley, wher
e it was well hidden from sight in a grove of trees.

  Tom and Mr. Damon then served a good meal, and preparations were made to start on their search among the mountains—a search which they hoped would lead them to Phantom Mountain, and the cave of the diamond makers.

  The tent which would afford them shelter was in sections, and could be laced together. They carried food, compressed into small packages, coffee, a few cooking utensils; and each one had a gun, Tom carrying a combination rifle and shotgun, for game.

  “We can’t live very high while we’re on the trail,” said the young inventor, “but it won’t be much worse than it was on Earthquake Island. Are we all ready?”

  “I guess so,” answered Mr. Damon. “How long are we going to be away?”

  “Until we find the diamond makers!” declared Tom, firmly.

  Shouldering their packs, the adventurers started off. Tom turned for a last look at his airship, dimly seen amid the trees. Would he ever come back to the Red Cloud? Would she be there when he did return? Would their quest be successful? These questions the lad asked himself, as he followed his companions along the rocky trail.

  “Perhaps we can find the road by which these men go in and out of the cave,” suggested Mr. Damon, when they had gone on for several miles.

  “I fancy not,” replied Mr. Jenks. “They probably take great pains to hide it. I think though, that our best plan will be to go here and there, looking for the entrance to the cave. I believe I would remember the place.”

  “But why can’t you follow the directions given by the miner who told you about Phantom Mountain?” asked Mr. Damon.

  “Because his talk was too indefinite,” answered Mr. Jenks. “He was so frightened by seeing what he believed to be a ghost, that he didn’t take much notice of the location of the place. All he knows is that Phantom Mountain is somewhere around here.”

  “And we’ve got to hunt until we find it; is that the idea?” asked Mr. Parker.

  “Or until we see the phantom,” added Tom, in a low voice.

  “Bless my topknot!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “You don’t mean to say you expect to see that ghost; do you Tom?”