The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  “Perhaps,” answered the young inventor, and he did not add something else of which he was thinking. For Tom had a curious theory regarding the phantom.

  They tramped about the remainder of that day. Toward evening Tom shot some birds, which made a welcome addition to their supper. Then the tent was put together, some spruce and hemlock boughs were cut to make a soft bed, and on these, while the light of a campfire gleamed in on them, the adventurers slept.

  Their experience the following day was similar to the first. They saw no evidence of a large cave such as Mr. Jenks had described, nor were there any traces of men having gone back and forth among the mountains, as might have been expected of the diamond makers, for, as Mr. Jenks had said, they made frequent journeys to the settlement for food, and other supplies.

  “Well, I haven’t begun to give up yet,” announced Tom, on the third day, when their quest was still unsuccessful. “But I think we are making one mistake.”

  “What is that?” inquired Mr. Jenks.

  “I think we should go up higher. In my opinion the cave is near the top of some peak; isn’t it, Mr. Jenks?”

  “I have that impression, though, as you know, I never saw the outside of it. Still, it might not be a bad idea to ascend some of these peaks.”

  Following this suggestion, they laid their trail more toward the sky, and that night found them encamped several thousand feet above the sea-level. It was quite cool, and the campfire was a big one about which they sat after supper, talking of many things.

  Tom did not sleep well that night. He tossed from side to side on the bed of boughs, and once or twice got up to replenish the fire, which had burned low. His companions were in deep slumber.

  “I wonder what time it is?” mused Tom, when he had been up the third time to throw wood on the blaze. “Must be near morning.” He looked at his watch, and was somewhat startled to see that it was only a little after twelve. Somehow it seemed much later.

  As he was putting the timepiece back into his pocket the lad looked around at the dark and gloomy mountains, amid which they were encamped. As his gaze wandered toward the peak of the one on the side of which the tent was pitched, he gave a start of surprise.

  For, coming down a place where, that afternoon, Tom had noticed a sort of indefinite trail was a figure in white. A tall, waving figure, which swayed this way and that—a figure which halted and then came on again.

  “I wonder—I wonder if that can be a wisp of fog?” mused the young inventor. He rubbed his eyes, thinking it might be a swirling of the night mist or a defect of vision. Then, as he saw more plainly, he noticed the thing in white rushing toward him.

  “It’s the phantom—the phantom!” cried Tom, aloud. “It’s the thing the miner saw! We’re on Phantom Mountain now!”

  CHAPTER XIV

  WARNED BACK

  Tom’s cries awakened the sleepers in the tent. Mr. Damon was the first to rush out.

  “Bless my nightcap, Tom!” he cried. “What is it? What has happened? Are we attacked by a mountain lion?”

  For answer the young inventor pointed up the mountain, to where, in the dim light from a crescent moon, there stood boldly revealed, the figure in white.

  “Bless—bless my very existence!” cried the odd man. “What is it, Tom?”

  “The phantom,” was the quiet answer. “Watch it, and see what it does.”

  By this time Mr. Jenks and Mr. Parker had joined Tom and Mr. Damon. The four diamond seekers stood gazing at the apparition. And, as they looked, the thing in white, seemingly too tall for any human being, slid slowly forward, with a gliding motion. Then it raised its long, white arms, and waved them threateningly at the adventurers.

  “It’s motioning us to go back,” said Mr. Parker in an awed whisper. “It doesn’t want us to go any farther.”

  “Very likely,” agreed Tom, coolly. “But we’re not going to be frightened by anything like that; are we?”

  “Not much!” exclaimed Mr. Jenks. “I expected this. A ghost can’t drive me back from getting my rights from those scoundrels!”

  “Suppose it uses a revolver to back up its demand?” asked the scientist.

  “Wait until it does,” answered Mr. Jenks. But the figure in white evidently had no such intentions. It came on a little distance farther, still waving the long arms threateningly, and then it suddenly disappeared, seeming to dissolve in the misty shadows of the night.

  “Bless my suspenders!” cried Mr. Damon. “That’s a very strange proceeding! Very strange! What do you make of it, Tom?”

  “It is evidently some man dressed up in a sheet,” declared Mr. Jenks. “I expected as much.”

  “The work of those diamond makers; do you think?” continued Mr. Damon.

  “I believe so,” answered Tom, slowly, for he was trying to think it out. “I believe they are the cause of the phantom, though I don’t know that it’s a man dressed in a sheet.”

  “Why isn’t it?” demanded Mr. Jenks.

  “Because it was too tall for a man, unless he’s a giant.”

  “He may have been on stilts,” suggested Mr. Parker.

  “No man on stilts could walk along that way,” declared Tom, confidently. “He glided along too easily. I am inclined to think it may be some sort of a light.”

  “A light?” queried Mr. Damon.

  “Yes, the diamond makers may be hidden in some small cave near here, and they may have some sort of a magic lantern or a similar arrangement, for throwing a shadow picture. They could arrange it to move as they liked, and could cause it to disappear at will. That, I think, is the ghost we have just seen.”

  “But the diamond makers have only been in this mountain recently,” objected Mr. Jenks, “and the phantom was here before them. In fact, that was what gave the place its name.”

  “That may be,” admitted the lad. “There are many places that have the name of being haunted, but no one ever sees the ghost. It is always some one else, who has heard of some one who has seen it. That may have been the case here. I grant that this place may have been called ‘Phantom Mountain’ for a number of years, due to the superstitious tales of miners. The diamond makers came along, found the conditions just right for their work, and adopted the ghost, so to speak. As there wasn’t any real spirit they made one, and they use it to scare people away. I think that’s what we’ve just seen, though I may be wrong in my theory as to what the phantom is.”

  “Well, it’s gone now, at any rate,” said Mr. Jenks, “and I think we’d better get back inside the tent. It’s cold out here.”

  “Aren’t some of us going to stand guard?” demanded Mr. Damon.

  “What for?” asked Mr. Jenks.

  “Why—er—bless my key-ring! Suppose that ghost takes a notion to come down here, and use his gun, as he did on the miners?”

  “I don’t believe that will happen,” remarked Tom. “The diamond makers, if the white thing had anything to do with them, have given us a warning, and I think they’ll at least wait until morning to see how we heed it.”

  “We aren’t going to heed it!” burst out Mr. Jenks. “I’m going to go right ahead and find that cave where they make diamonds!”

  “And we’re with you!” exclaimed Tom. “We’ll have a good fire going the rest of the night, and that may keep intruders away. In the morning we’ll begin our search, and we’ll go up the trail where we saw the white figure.”

  A big pile of wood had been collected for the fire, and Tom now piled some logs and branches on the blaze. It would last for some time now, and the adventurers, still talking of the “ghost” went back into the tent. It was over an hour before they all got to sleep again, and Mr. Jenks and Mr. Damon took turns in getting up once or twice during the remainder of the night to replenish the fire.

  Morning dawned without anything further having occurred to disturb them, and, after a hearty breakfast, to which Tom added some fish he caught in a nearby mountain stream, they set off up the trail on Phantom Mountain.

/>   They had left their tent standing, as they proposed making that spot their headquarters until they located the cave they were seeking. What their course would be after that would depend on the circumstances.

  If they had expected to have an easy task locating the cavern in which Mr. Jenks had seen diamonds made, the adventurers were disappointed. All that day they tramped up and down the mountain, looking for some secret entrance, but none was disclosed. The higher they went up the great peak, the fainter became the trail, until, at length it vanished completely.

  But this was not to be wondered at, since it was on solid rock, in which no footsteps would leave an impression.

  “They never brought you up here in a wagon, Mr. Jenks,” decided Tom, when he saw how steep the place was.

  “I’m inclined to think so myself,” admitted the diamond man. “They must have reached the cave from some other way. As a matter of fact, I walked some distance after getting out of the vehicle, before we got to the cavern. But, even at that, I don’t believe we came this way.”

  “Yet the phantom was here,” persisted Tom, “and I’m convinced that the cave is in this neighborhood. It’s up to us to find it!”

  But they searched the remainder of that day in vain, and as night was coming on, they made their way back to the camp. As Tom, who was in the lead, approached the tent, he saw something black fastened to the entrance.

  “Hello!” he cried. “Some one’s been here. That wasn’t on the tent when he left this morning.”

  “What is it?” asked Mr. Damon.

  “A black piece of paper, written on with white ink,” replied the lad. He was reading it, and, as he perused it a look of surprise came over his face.

  “Listen to this!” called Tom. “It’s evidently from the diamond makers.”

  Holding up the black paper, on which the white writing stood out in bold relief Tom read aloud:

  “Be warned in time! Go back before it is too late! You are near to death! Go back!”

  “Bless my shoelaces!” cried Mr. Damon. “This is getting serious.”

  CHAPTER XV

  THE LANDSLIDE

  Gathered about the young inventor, the three men looked at the warning. The writing was poor, and it was evident that an attempt had been made to disguise it. But there was no misspelling of words, and there were no rudely drawn daggers, or bloody hands or anything of that sort. In fact, it was a very business-like sort of warning.

  “Rather odd,” commented Mr. Jenks. “Black paper and white ink.”

  “White ink is easy enough to make,” stated Mr. Parker. “I fancy they wanted it as conspicuous as possible.”

  “Yes,” agreed Tom, “and this warning, together with the antics of the thing in white last night, shows that they are aware of our presence here, and perhaps know who we are. We will have to be on our guard.”

  “Do you think that fellow Munson, whom we left in the forest, could have gotten here and warned them?” asked Mr. Damon.

  “It’s possible,” admitted Tom, “but now let’s see if the person who pinned this warning on our tent took any of our things.”

  A hasty examination, however, showed that nothing had been disturbed, and Tom and Mr. Damon were soon getting supper ready, everyone talking, during the progress of the meal, about the events of the day, and the rather weird culmination of it.

  “Well, we haven’t had a great deal of success—so far,” admitted Tom, as they sat about the fire, in the fast gathering dusk. “I think, perhaps, we’d better try on the other side of the mountain tomorrow. We’ve explored this side pretty thoroughly.”

  “Good idea,” commented Mr. Jenks. “We’ll do it, and move our camp. I only hope those fellows don’t find our airship and destroy it. We’ll have a hard time getting back to civilization again, if we have to walk all the way.”

  This contingency caused Tom some uneasiness. He did not like to think that the unscrupulous men might damage the Red Cloud, that had been built only after hard labor. But he knew he could accomplish nothing by worrying, and he tried to dismiss the matter from his mind.

  They rather expected to see the thing in white again that night, but it did not appear, and morning came without anything having disturbed their heavy sleep, for they were tired from the day’s tramp.

  It took them the greater part of the day to make a circuit of the base of Phantom Mountain in order to get to a place where a sort of trail led upward.

  “It’s too late to do anything tonight,” decided Tom, as they set up the tent. “We’ll rest, and start the first thing in the morning.”

  “And the ghost isn’t likely to find us here,” added Mr. Damon. “Where are you going, Mr. Parker?” he asked, as he saw the scientist tramping a little way up the side of the mountain.

  “I am going to make some observations,” was the answer, and no one paid any more attention to him for some time. Supper was nearly ready when Mr. Parker returned. His face wore a rather serious air, and Mr. Damon, noting it, asked laughingly:

  “Well, did you discover any volcanoes, that may erupt during the night, and scare us to death?”

  “No,” replied Mr. Parker, calmly, “but there is every indication that we will soon have a terrific electrical storm. From a high peak I caught a glimpse of one working this way across the mountains.”

  “Then we’d better fasten the tent well down,” called Tom. “We don’t want it to blow away.”

  “There will not be much danger from wind,” was Mr. Parker’s opinion.

  “From what then?” asked Mr. Jenks.

  “From the discharges of lightning among these mountain peaks, which contain so much iron ore. We will be in grave danger.”

  The fact that the scientist had not always made correct predictions was not now considered by his hearers, and Tom and the two men gazed at Mr. Parker in some alarm.

  “Is there anything we can do to avoid it?” asked Mr. Jenks.

  “The only thing to do would be to leave the mountain,” was the answer, “and, as the iron ore extends for miles, we can not get out of the danger zone before the storm will reach us. It will be here in less than half an hour.”

  “Then we’d better have supper,” remarked Tom, practically, “and get ready for it. Perhaps it may not be as bad as Mr. Parker fears.”

  “It will be bad enough,” declared the gloomy scientist, and he seemed to find pleasure in his announcement.

  The meal was soon over, and Tom busied himself in looking to the guy ropes of the tent, for he feared lest there might be wind with the storm. That it was coming was evident, for now low mutterings of thunder could be heard off toward the west.

  Black clouds rapidly obscured the heavens, and the sound of thunder increased. Fitful flashes of lightning could be seen forking across the sky in jagged chains of purple light.

  “It’s going to be a heavy storm,” Tom admitted to himself. “I hope lightning doesn’t strike around here.”

  The storm came on rapidly, but there was a curious quietness in the air that was more alarming than if a wind had blown. The campfire burned steadily, and there was a certain oppressiveness in the atmosphere.

  It was now quite dark, save when the fitful lightning flashes came, and they illuminated the scene brilliantly for a few seconds. Then, by contrast, it was blacker than ever.

  Suddenly, as Tom was gazing up toward the peak of Phantom Mountain, he saw something that caused him to cry out in alarm. He pointed upward, and whispered hoarsely:

  “The ghost again! There’s our friend in white!”

  The others looked, and saw the same weird figure that had menaced them when they were encamped on the other side of the peak.

  “They must have followed us,” said Mr. Jenks, in a low voice.

  Slowly the figure advanced, It waved the long white arms, as if in warning. At times it would be only dimly visible in the blackness, then, suddenly it would stand out in bold relief as a great flash of fire split the clouds.

  The thunder, me
anwhile, had been growing louder and sharper, indicating the nearer approach of the storm. Each lightning flash was followed in a second or two, by a terrific clap. Still there was no wind nor rain, and the campfire burned steadily.

  All at once there was a crash as if the very mountain had split asunder, and the adventurers saw a great ball of purple-bluish fire shoot down, as if from some cloud, and strike against the side of the crag, not a hundred feet from where stood the ghostly figure in white.

  “That was a bad one,” cried Mr. Damon, shouting so as to be heard above the echoes of the thunderclap.

  Almost as he spoke there came another explosion, even louder than the one preceding. A great ball of fire, pear shaped, leaped for the same spot in the mountain.

  “There’s a mass of iron ore there!” yelled Mr. Parker. “The lightning is attracted to it!”

  His voice was swallowed up in the terrific crash that followed, and, as there came another flash of the celestial fire, the figure in white could be seen hurrying back up the mountain trail. Evidently the electrical storm, with lightning bolts discharging so close, was too much for the “ghost.”

  In another instant it looked as if the whole place about where the diamond seekers stood, was a mass of fire. Great forked tongues of lightning leaped from the clouds, and seemed to lick the ground. There was a rattle and bang of thunder, like the firing of a battery of guns. Tom and the others felt themselves tingling all over, as if they had hold of an electrical battery, and there was a strong smell of sulphur in the air.

  “We are in the midst of the storm!” cried Mr. Parker. “We are standing on a mass of iron ore! Any minute may be our last!”

  But fate had not intended the adventurers for death by lightning. Almost as suddenly as it had begun, the discharge of the tongues of fire ceased in the immediate vicinity of our friends. They stood still—awed—not knowing what to do.

  Then, once more, came a terrific clap! A great mass of fire, like some red-hot ingot from a foundry, was hurled through the air, straight at the face of the mountain, and at the spot where the figure in white had stood but a few minutes before.

  Instantly the earth trembled, as it had at Earthquake Island, but it was not the same. It was over in a few seconds. Then, as the diamond seekers looked, they saw in the glare of a score of lightning flashes that followed the one great clap, the whole side of the mountain slip away, and go crashing into the valley below.