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Booth Tarkington - "The Turmoil, A Novel"

Stephen Crane - "A Girl of the Streets"

Theophilus G. Pinches - "The Religion of Babylonia and Assyria"

Richard Harding Davis - "Miss Civilization"

Boy Scouts in Mexico

G >> G. Harvey Ralphson >> Boy Scouts in Mexico




Fremont could not repress a smile at the positive manner
of the man as he described a situation which was purely
imaginary. Then, anxious to learn what other untruths
the fellow would relate, he asked:

"You know Jim Scoby, the night watchman, and Felix, the Mexican?"

"I know nothing of them," was the reply.

The two walked on side by side for some time in silence, the big
fellow turning now and then to look with disapproval at the
smiling face of the boy. Indeed, if the proof against him was
no stronger than this, the boy could well afford to smile, for
lies in evidence discredit any truth there may be on the side
of the falsifiers.

"Where are the men you refer to?" the big fellow asked, at length.

"They are down here looking for the Tolford mine," was the reply.
"They stole a description of it that night. Ever hear of the
Tolford mine?" he added abruptly.

The renegade gave a quick start at the question.

"How do you know they are down here?" he asked.

"Nestor says they followed on down after us. Were you there when
they got into the office and got the description?" he continued.

"I've heard of this mysterious mine," was the guarded reply,
"and I understand that this boy Nestor has a copy of the description."

"Is that why you wanted Nestor?" asked Fremont. "Are you after
the mine, too?"

The big fellow walked on in silence. It was plain to Fremont
that his abrupt questions were irritating him, so he decided
to go on with them.

"Are you one of the Tolford heirs?" he asked.

No reply, save a threatening scowl.

"Are you the heir who has been making Mr. Cameron so much
trouble?" persisted the prisoner, glad to note that Big Bob
was fretting under his cross-examination.

"Do you expect to find the mine down there in the sand?"
continued Fremont. "That doesn't appear to me to be a
good place to look for gold."

"It is a good place to look for a reward for a fugitive from
justice," snapped the big fellow. "Now cut out the gab!"

"You think you can get me across the border without meeting
with opposition from my friends?" asked Fremont, not obeying
the latest command.

"Your friends!" ejaculated Big Bob. "Who are your friends?
A mess of school-boys who get lost in the hills! A gang of
high-brows who can't take care of themselves off Broadway!
Your friends!"

The idea of meeting with any effective opposition from Fremont's
boy friends was so amusing to the big fellow that he burst into
a hearty laugh.

"Your friends!" he repeated. "Ho! Ho! Baby dudes!"

"About this reward," Fremont went on, resolved to keep
Big Bob talking if he could, "about this blood money!
You will have to cut it up into several piles, won't you?"
glancing around the file of outlaws. "Or do you intend to
cut the throats of these fellows instead of cutting up the
reward? That would be something in your line, and quite profitable."

"I'll cut your throat," threatened Big Bob, "if you don't close
your yawp. Speak when you are spoken to!"

"All right," replied Fremont. "I'm spoken to now. Did you
steal the Tolford will out of the envelope that night? If
you are the heir who has been trying to get it, you certainly
got a chance then."

Big Bob started violently, walked rapidly for a few moments,
and then dropped back to Fremont's side, just as the boy had
figured on his doing. This talk of the Tolford estate seemed
to be attractive to the fellow. Fremont saw that it was, but
could find no reason why it should be unless, indeed, he had
hit on the truth in one of his questions, and the fellow was
really an heir.

"What do you know about that will?" Big Bob asked as he took
step with his prisoner.

"Not a thing, except that it has been in good demand for a
long time, and that it has made trouble for Mr. Cameron."

"You have had charge of the Tolford papers, including the will,
on several occasions? You have taken the papers to and from the bank?"

"Sure," answered Fremont. "Where did you learn so much?"

"Never mind! You would know the will if you saw it anywhere?"

"No; I never looked at it."

It seemed to the boy that this answer brought forth a sigh of
relief from the breast of the big fellow, so he decided to
keep on with his questions about the will.

"You have seen the will?" he asked.

"Never. What caused you to think I had seen it?"

"You talk so much about it."

Big Bob grunted and walked on in silence. Fremont turned back
for an instant and swept his eyes over the slope, hoping to
catch sight of one of the Black Bears. Not a friendly face
or form was in sight, however, and he trudged on, wondering
what line of questions would be most likely to throw the big
fellow off his guard.

"Why don't you take my advice and confess?" Big Bob asked, presently.

"I might do so," Fremont replied, provokingly, "but for one thing."

"And what is that?" was asked eagerly.

"I want to see the guilty man punished!"

"If you confess," the other went on, angrily, "you'll get a light
sentence if Cameron lives, and a life sentence instead of the
electric chair if he dies. There is always hope in a life
sentence--and you are young!"

"Why do you ask me to confess?" demanded Fremont.

"Well, to tell you the truth," was the reply, "I have a friend
who may be accused of the crime. He can't be convicted, of course,
for the proof goes to show you to be the guilty one, but the cops
can make him a lot of trouble and expense!"

"So you want me to confess and skip the country?"

"Yes, to skip out of the country, just as you skipped out of New York."

"And permit this friend of yours, who committed the crime, to go free?"

"My friend did not commit the crime!" threateningly.

"Oh, yes he did! Who is your friend--yourself?"

Big Bob lifted a hand as if to strike the boy, but he changed his
mind, or got control of his temper, and lowered it again.

"At least," Fremont said, "you know who did commit the crime.
That is something."

The big fellow grumbled out some sarcastic reply and trudged ahead.
Fremont, knowing that a valuable point had been gained, hastened
along by his side.

"And, with my false confession in your pocket," the boy went on,
"you would find it convenient to leave me out there under the sand?"

"You're a plucky cub to talk like that to me.

Big Bob was in a great rage, but he did not lift his heavy hand again.

"I was wondering if your friend would pay for leaving me out there,"
the boy said. "If I went back to New York, you know, I might deny
the confession, or claim that it was secured under duress. You
know what a confession is worth when secured under duress? What
about it?"

"You're a fool!" shouted Big Bob so loudly that the others turned
inquisitive faces toward him. "That was only a joke, that about
my friend. I wanted to see what you would say if I asked you to
confess, and then when you asked why I wanted a confession I gave
you the first reason that came into my head. So shut up about it."

"Sure," said Fremont, "after you give me the real reason you asked
for a confession."

Big Bob saw that he had made a mistake in talking with the shrewd
youngster, and decided to get out of it the best way he could.

"All right! I'll tell you," he said. "A reward will be paid right
down on the nail when a confession is filed with the prisoner.
Now you know all about it!"

"Your imagination is working all right to-day," Fremont laughed.
"The last explanation is more foolish than the first. You knew
very well that the payment of the reward would follow conviction,
and you know that I am innocent."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you know who the real criminal is."

"That is not true!" thundered the other. "Now, I've had enough of this.
You mog along and keep your mouth shut or it will be the worse for you."

Fremont knew very well that Big Bob was considering a desperate means
of retrieving the error he had made in speaking of a friend who might
be accused of the crime. The boy was afraid that he had gone too far
in his desire to provoke the big fellow.

For there would be no one to ask questions if the boy should never
leave the hills alive. Unless the Black Bears were within striking
distance, no one would ever know what had become of him. He looked
and listened again for some signs of his friends, but the slope
behind told him nothing.


CHAPTER XIX.
WHAT WAS FOUND UNDERGROUND.

While Fremont was clambering down the eastern slope, studying
the renegade Englishman whenever opportunity offered, and
puzzling over the source of the fellow's information
concerning the Cameron building and the Tolford estate papers,
Ned Nestor and his companions were preparing to visit the
interior of the strange shelter-place in which they found themselves.

The outer chamber, which, for convenience they marked "Chamber A"
on the rough map they afterward made, was 30x40 feet in size, with
the eastern side running parallel with the almost perpendicular
face of rock which shot upward from the shelf which has before
been alluded to. The opening faced directly east, and from it
one could look miles over the desert of sand lying between the
foot of the range and the Rio Grande del Norte, something like
a hundred miles away.

To the north and south of this main chamber the boys found niches
in the rock, evidently hewn there by man hundreds of years before.
The rock was very hard here, and it seemed that work had ceased
for that reason.

On the west side of the chamber there were two openings, perhaps
four feet by six, each leading into a chamber 20x30 feet in size.
Before entering these rooms, which held an odor of dampness and
decay, the recently arrived Black Bears produced electric flashlights.

"We looked up Old Mexico," Harry Stevens said, turning on the flame,
"and knew we'd be nosing around in caves and tunnels before we got
back to God's country, so we brought our glims along with us."

"Well, don't burn them all at once," advised Nestor. "We shall
need them for several days, probably, and there are no shops in
the next block where dry batteries can be bought. Leave one out
and put the rest away."

"We have a few extra batteries," said Harry. "We looked out for that."

"We shall doubtless need all you have, no matter how economically
they are used," Nestor said. "Let me take the one you have, and
I'll go on an exploring expedition into the south chamber."

"Me for the exploring expedition too!" cried Harry. "I want to
see how it seems to go into a room ten thousand years old."

"Nixt ten thousand years!" observed Jimmie.

Harry nudged Peter Fenton and pointed to the west wall of the
chamber, across which he threw the brilliant circle of the flashlight.

"There is the record," he said.

"Nix ten thousand years old!" insisted Jimmie.

No one knows how old," Fenton said. "No one has ever been able
to translate the picture talk of the very early inhabitants.
The man who carved those lines might have existed when the
sandy desert out there was under water."

"Speaking of water, let's go on and see where they got their
drinkings," put in Frank Shaw. "I'm nearly choked, and I'll
bet there's a spring about here somewhere."

"Any old time you don't want something to eat or drink!" laughed
Harry. "Well," he added, handing the flashlight to Nestor, "we
may as well go in and see if there is a water system here."

"There surely is," Fenton said. "The people who dug this shelter
out did not work where there was no water. If Nature did not
supply it, they built aqueducts to convey it to locations where
it was wanted. But Professor Agassiz says they lived ten
thousand years ago, so, if they did put in a water system here,
it may be out of commission now."

"How does he know how long ago they lived?" asked Jack.

"By their bones," was the reply. "Near New Orleans, under four
successive forests, one on top of the other, and each showing
traces of having been occupied by man, explorers recently
discovered a human skeleton estimated to be fifty thousand
years old. That fellow must have lived just after the last
glacial epoch."

"I don't believe they know anything about how long ago he lived,"
observed Jimmie. "How can any one tell how long ago the last
glacial epoch closed?"

"Figure out how far the melting line traveled from south to north,"
said Fenton, "then figure that the glaciers receded at the rate
of only twelve feet every hundred years, and you'll know something
about it."

"Come on!" cried Frank, "let's get in there and find their Croton
system. I'm so thirsty my throat sizzles. Come on!"

Nestor, closely followed by the others, led the way into the south
chamber, called, for convenience, "Chamber B" on the rough map made
later on. The place was damp and cold, and a current of air came
from the southwest corner, indicating an opening there.

After clearing away a heap of rocks and loose sand, which might
once have been rock, the boys found an opening which had been,
apparently, closed for a long period of time. When finally
cleared, after an hour of hard work, the opening from which
the current of air had come was discovered to be a door like
arch in the west wall of the main chamber.

The electric flashlight, however, when introduced into the
opening, showed a narrow passage beyond the opening instead
of a square room. This tunnel-like passage was not far from
six feet in width and about that in height. The walls showed
that it had been cut through solid rock.

The boys listened for some indication of life or motion in the
tunnel, but all was silent. Not even a bird or creeping thing
disturbed the stillness of the place.

"Shall we go in now?" asked Nestor.

"Sure!" replied Shaw. "We may find a well in there!"

"Or a soda fountain, or a modern filter," grinned Jimmie.
"How would they ever get a well down through this mountain?"

"Water in wells comes from elevations before it gravitates to
the bottom of the holes from which we pump it," Shaw declared,
in defense of his suggestion. "There may be a reservoir here
somewhere."

"How far is this cavern floor from the surface above it?" asked
Harry Stevens, with a judicial air.

"About four hundred feet," was the reply. "We must be about that
distance from the highest point here."

"Then there is no reason why there should not be a reservoir above
us," said Harry. "Water would filter through these rocks, all right."

The boys passed on in a southwesterly direction to the end of the
tunnel, which was about fifty feet from the opening. Here they
found a chamber about 10x16 feet in size. At the south side of
this chamber was a trough-shaped place cut in the rock, and
through this a small rivulet of water ran.

"I knew the people who built this shop wouldn't put in their time
where no water could be procured," declared Fenton. "Why, this is
simply fort, a mountain residence, where valley people came in
time of war and secreted themselves. If we could read the
hieroglyphics on the walls, we would be able to write a history
of their troubles."

"Were they the real thing in cave-dwellers?" asked Jack, who was
not noted for his studious habits, and who depended on his
companions for a knowledge of the countries he visited as a
member of the Black Bear Patrol.

"Earlier than some of the cave-men," replied Harry. "I wonder
if this water is any good to drink?" he added, looking longingly
at the crystal stream flowing under the round circle of the
flashlight. "Who wants to try it?"

Frank Shaw did not wait to make many tests. Tormented with thirst,
he felt of the water by rubbing it between his thumb and fingers,
smelled of it, put it cautiously to his lips, and then, experiencing
no bad effects from this contact, took a few drops into his mouth.

"It is fine!" he shouted, then. "Cold as ice and sweet as sugar!
This beats a soda fountain, Jimmie!"

"Now, was this tunnel constructed on purpose to reach this
spring?" asked Harry.

The lads examined the walls minutely, but there was no opening
from the chamber, save the one by which they had entered.

"This must have been the milk house," laughed Frank, always ready
to turn any subject under discussion into a joke. "I wonder if
they kept their cows on the top of the peak? If they had tied
their tails together and put one over each side, they never could
have run away."

On their way back to Chamber B the boys discovered an opening in
the north wall of the tunnel. This led to another tunnel, running
in a northwesterly direction for about one hundred feet and ending
in a chamber larger than any of the others. Nestor caught sight of
a sparkle on the walls as he swung the flashlight about and pointed
glittering sections out to the boys.

"Gold!" cried Frank.

"I'll bet a cooky we've found the hidden mine!" cried Jimmie.

"It is gold, all right," Harry Stevens said, "but there's no
knowing whether it is here in quantities sufficient to pay the
expense of mining and crushing the ore."

"Huh!" cried Jimmie, in a tone of reproach. "Don't you know that
rock that will produce a dollar a tone is worth working? Well,
then, look at this! There's ten dollars worth in the spot I cover
with my hand! We've found somethin', boys!"

"So it wasn't to escape their enemies that the old chaps sequestered
themselves here," said Fenton. "It was to dig out gold!"

"I never heard that there was gold in this part of Mexico," observed
Jack. "I reckon we'll wake up when we get out into the sunlight."

"If you'll read up," Fenton replied, "you'll find that the state of
Chihuahua abounds in niter and other salts, and is rich in mines of
gold and silver. Do you really think we have come upon the deserted
mine Jimmie talks about so much?" he added, turning to Nestor.

The latter took a folded paper from his pocket and examined it under
the light of the electric torch.

"It seems that we have," was the reply. "I was not thinking much
about the mine as I ascended the mountain, but now it strikes me
that I unconsciously followed the directions given in this paper."

"That big lobster of an Englishman was looking for the mine,"
Jimmie said, "and so it was natural that he should lead you to
it. I can't see how it belongs to any old estate, though,"
he added. "Looks like everybody's property to me."

"Perhaps it was the knowledge of the whereabouts of the mine that
had value," suggested Nestor, "and not the fact of ownership.
Anyway, we've found it."

The walls of the cavern appeared to blaze with gold, in flakes and
in small nuggets. Here and there were empty pockets which appeared
to have been stripped of their rich holdings. Upon inspection the
floor of the chamber was found to be covered, in places, with crushed
rock, where blocks cut from the walls had been broken up.

"There is no knowing how many million dollars worth of gold have been
taken from here," Nestor said, "and there is no way of estimating,
at this time, how far this rich rock extends into the mountain. The
fact that the mine was abandoned may indicate that the ore became less
valuable as the workers cut out from the center."

"It is rich enough now to pay for working, all right! cried Jimmie.

"There appears to be millions in sight," Nestor said, putting away his paper.


CHAPTER XX.
BLACK BEARS TO THE RESCUE.

Frank Shaw drew Nestor aside as the boys searched about the
cavern for nuggets. As a small one was occasionally discovered,
the quest was conducted with an enthusiasm which left the two
to themselves.

"It is a strange chance that has brought us to this mine," Nestor
said, thoughtfully. "It seems like a fairy tale come true."

"Do you really think this is the long lost Tolford mine?" asked Frank.
"I think it is," was the reply. "The location is right, at least."

"It is remarkable," Frank said, "but we can talk of that at another
time. I called you over here to ask you more about the fourth
man--the one you referred to, but a short time ago, as having
visited the Cameron suite that night. I didn't think much of the
idea when you suggested it, but, somehow, I can't get it out of my
head. Do you still believe there was a fourth man? If so, what
was he there for?"

"That will show in time," replied Nestor, with a little pause
after each word.

"But," insisted Frank, seeking to argue the matter in order to bring
out the opinion of his chum, "these other men had strong motives in
doing what was done there, and you don't indicate any motive the
fourth man might have had!"

"I have a faint hint of a motive humming in my brain," Nestor answered,
"but it is not sufficiently well developed to talk about now. There
was something afoot in the building that night that has not yet come
to the surface."

"You surely don't believe the tales told by Scoby and Felix, or by
Don Miguel, either?" asked Frank.

"They may be telling the truth, or part of the truth. However, Scoby
and Felix are not sincere in their statements. There is something
they are not telling."

"Well," Frank observed, "we ought to be getting down to brass tacks.
If we get Fremont away from those ruffians to-night he'll want to
be jumping at something right away, and there ought to be a line
of work laid out."

"Don't get excited," laughed Nestor. "We're getting along pretty well.
We've found the mine, and we've taken three prisoners. If there was a
fourth man in the mixup that night, we'll soon know who he was and why
he was there."

"I wish I knew whether the munitions of war got across the border,"
Frank said, after a pause.

"The mountain has been remarkably quiet to-day," suggested Nestor.

"What does that mean?"

"Don't you think the men would be making a lot of noise if they had
arms in their hands?" Nestor asked.

"Perhaps they are making noise somewhere."

"They may make all the noise they want to, if they keep off Texas soil,"
replied Nestor.

"I have been talking with Stevens," Frank went on, "and he gives a doleful
account of the situation in New York. They left nearly two days after you
did, you remember. It is said that Cameron is not likely to recover, and
that he still, in a rambling way, talks of Fremont as the person who
assaulted him. That looks bad."

"It is fortunate that we got the boy out of New York," replied Nestor.
"Even the temporary captivity he is undergoing is better than the Tombs."

"I'm afraid he's on the way to the Tombs now," Frank said. "He surely
is unless we can do something immediately. The big rascal may come upon
a band of outlaws any minute that would be too strong for us to attack."

During this talk Jimmie had been searching for nuggets on the eastern
side of the chamber, finding a small one occasionally when the light
was turned toward him. As Shaw finished speaking the boy found another,
and the watcher was wondering how rich the earth was.

Then he saw the boy, stooping to the floor of the cavern, evidently in
quest of more gold, he being at that time close to the east wall,
suddenly throw up his arms and disappear, apparently through the very
floor of the chamber.

Frank stood for a second looking toward the place where this strange
disappearance had taken place, rubbed his eyes to make sure that he
was wide awake, and then uttered a cry which brought the others hastily
to his side.

When the boys reached the point of disappearance they looked for a
fissure in the rocky floor, but found none. Instead, they saw a
round, smooth opening into what seemed to be another tunnel. The
light, when held into the dark break in the rock, revealed a
landing about six feet down, but Jimmie was not in sight. Presently,
however, the alarmed boys heard his voice, coming up out of the darkness.

"Hey, there!" he said. "Get a rope and a light! I'm on a toboggan!"

"In a second," Harry replied. "Are you falling?"

"No, I'm hangin' on with me toes!" was the reply. "Hurry up, you
fellers! I'll drop clear into the middle of the world if I let go!"

Harry darted away to the outer chamber and brought a line from his
camping outfit. Tying a piece of stone to one end, to act as a sinker,
he dropped it into the mouth of the tunnel.

"Catch it!" he called to the boy.

"Nothin' doin'!" returned Jimmie. "I'm hangin' out in space. If I
should let go with one finger or one toe I'd take a tumble through
to China. One of you fellows come down on the rope. Hurry!"

"Are you hurt?" asked Nestor, anxiously.

"Not on your life, only in me feelings," replied Jimmie. "It breaks
me tender heart to get into a hole I can't help meself out of! Come
on down with that rope!"

Nestor drew up the line, tied one end about his waist, and, wondering
what might lie within the forbidding place, and where it might lead to,
was slowly lowered into the tunnel. The flashlight showed a level
space about two yards in extent at the bottom of the shaft, directly
under the opening, but beyond that the tunnel dropped away toward the
east and the middle of the Chinese empire, as Jimmie declared. The
fall of the passage, which was not more than six feet in diameter,
was at least fifty degrees.

As soon as his feet struck the little landing Nestor saw Jimmie lying
flat on his stomach on the incline below, hanging on with his fingers
for dear life. As Nestor looked the boy's fingers slipped on the
smooth rock and he started, feet foremost, down the dark passage.

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