Chapter V: Part 5

“You asked for this,” Diethelm retorted. “If you’d kept to your own affairs, no one would have bothered you. Now you’ve poked your pretty little noses in, you’ll have to take the consequences!”

“Which are--?” interposed Judy. She was no longer frightened, but smoldered with a deep, burning anger.

“I’ll drive you some distance from here and dump you in the woods,” Diethelm informed her. “By the time you find your way out, we’ll be over the state line. This is our last haul.”

“So you’re one of the hi-jackers!” Kathleen accused shrilly. “A disgrace to the ranger uniform!”

“I’ve not been in the service long,” Diethelm said. “It means nothing to me. I adopted the uniform only to serve my own purpose. For six months it’s been a cinch to run cargo through, but lately the state highway patrol has bottled up most of the roads. We’ll move on to another state.”

The car had reached the main highway. Judy could see Calico Cottage through the morning mist, but there was no sign of her aunt, or of any help.

Everything was painfully clear now! The trucker she and Kathleen had seen the previous night at the restaurant, had indeed been Joe Pompilli. Either he, or his runners now were at the cave, awaiting a chance to slip their cargo over the state line. And with the road block soon to be lifted, that chance might come very soon!

The coupe turned onto the main highway, and started up the winding mountain road. Judy saw Diethelm glance anxiously at the gasoline gauge.

Her pulse leaped with hope, for she saw that the pointer already stood on the empty mark, and was giving only an occasional convulsive jerk.

“We’re about out of gas,” Diethelm muttered.

“No filling stations on this road for three miles,” Judy said in satisfaction.

“We rangers have supply caches,” Diethelm dashed her hopes again. “My own private one is just ahead.”

A few hundred yards farther up the road, he pulled off onto the right-of-way. Back among the trees, Judy and Kathleen saw the gasoline supply tank, marked with the Forest Service name.

Diethelm reached for a can on the floor behind the seat. As he got out of the car, he tapped the revolver in his holster.

“Now don’t you move or try to get out of this car!” he ordered. “I’ll have my eye on you. I’m warning that if you try to escape, I’ll shoot.”

Diethelm then strode to the gasoline storage tank, hurriedly starting to fill his can.

“Lean forward--block off the window, so he can’t see me,” Judy instructed Kathleen tersely.

“He’s watching us. If we try to get out, I’m afraid he’ll carry out his threat to shoot.”

“We can’t hope to get away,” Judy admitted. “But there’s one outside chance we can get through to ranger headquarters on the radio phone. I’m going to risk it.”

Now that she knew her friend’s scheme, Kathleen obediently shifted her position, so that her back temporarily shielded Judy from view.

In an instant, Judy had snapped the radio phone on.

“Car 23 to Headquarters!” she called excitedly into the transmitter. “Emergency call! Emergency call!”

“Headquarters to Car 23,” came the reply. “Who the deuce is this? Diethelm--”

“I’m a Girl Scout--held a prisoner in Diethelm’s car,” Judy broke in. Aware that Diethelm himself had dropped the gasoline can and was striding toward the coupe, her words tumbled over each other in her haste to get them out. “The hi-jackers are at the cave! Their truck--”

The car door was jerked open at that point, and the radio phone ripped from Judy’s hand. Diethelm clicked the switch off, pulling the girl bodily from the coupe.

“Now you’ve done it!” he snarled, shoving her so hard that she fell to the ground. “Little fool!”

Despite his previous threat, Diethelm did not touch his revolver. His face contorted by worry, he seemed uncertain what to do for a moment.

Tersely then, he ordered Kathleen out of the car also.

“Turn your backs and start walking into the woods,” he ordered the two girls. “Keep walking. Don’t look back or I’ll shoot.”

Kathleen pulled Judy to her feet, and they slowly moved off into the woods.

“Walk faster!” Diethelm shouted.

The girls obediently increased their speed, stumbling as they climbed over fallen logs and other forest debris.

Moments passed, and Judy dared to look over her shoulder. No longer could she see the car or the roadway.

But as she paused, she heard the roar of the coupe’s engine.

“He’s filled the gas tank and he’s pulling out!” she declared. “Now to get help, if we can.”

Hurrying back the way they had come, the girls reached the roadside in time to see the coupe disappearing around a curve in the direction from which it had come.

“He’s going back to the cave to warn the hi-jackers!” Judy guessed shrewdly. “He must know I got through to the ranger headquarters!”

“Then that means that the hi-jackers probably will try to move their truck out now!” Kathleen exclaimed. “They may make it too, because it isn’t far to the state line and the road block probably has been lifted.”

“We must stop them somehow! Let’s get back to Calico Cottage as fast as we can!”

They pounded down the road, hoping as they ran that a car would come along. None did. In Diethelm’s coupe, the distance they had traveled from the junction with the private road had seemed very short. Now, the reverse was true.

Though the distance could not be more than a third of a mile, it seemed endless to the two Scouts. Alternately running and dog-trotting, they finally reached Calico Cottage, winded and perspiring.

As they crossed the yard, Miss Meadows came to meet them.

“I’ve had such a time,” she began. “At first, I couldn’t get my call through. Why, what’s happened?”

Judy explained only briefly. She cut her story short by demanding: “Aunt Mattie, how soon do you think help will get here?”

“Ten minutes or longer. My call just went through. Before that the line was busy, and I couldn’t get the operator to understand that this was an emergency!”

“Ten minutes!” Judy groaned. “That will give Diethelm all the time he needs to warn those men!”

“I saw a ranger car turn down the private road quite awhile ago,” Miss Meadows contributed.

“That was Diethelm,” Judy said desperately. “We’ve notified the ranger headquarters, but I doubt they can get men here quickly enough either!”

“If only we could block the private road somehow, so those hi-jackers can’t get their truck out!” Kathleen exclaimed. “What could we use?”

Frantically, the three looked about the premises, but not an object was available which would offer an impediment to a powerful truck.

“The clothesline,” Miss Meadows suggested doubtfully. “We could tie it to trees, across the road.”

“It would snap in an instant,” Judy said. “I doubt even a wire would delay them.”

“Then there’s nothing we can do,” Miss Meadows said desperately. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Nails?” proposed Kathleen. “We could throw them on the road and hope they’d spear the tires.”

“There’s a can of nails on the porch,” Miss Meadows supplied eagerly. “The carpenter who must have built this cottage, apparently left them.”

“It’s an idea,” Judy said slowly, “but it won’t work. Those big truck tires would roll right over the nails without a puncture. Not even glass would cut them.”

“I guess that’s right,” Miss Meadows admitted, crestfallen. “Oh, it’s hopeless.”

Judy, however, had a different idea. She was gazing speculatively at the “Welcome” mat on the doorstep.

“I think I know of a way to stop that truck if it tries to come through!” she cried. “My scheme is fantastic, but I’m sure it will work!”

_Chapter 21_

TRUCKER’S WELCOME

“How can we stop the truck if it tries to come through?” Kathleen demanded eagerly. “What is your idea, Judy?”

“You gave it to me yourself, when you mentioned dropping nails on the road,” Judy answered. “That wouldn’t do the trick, I’m sure, but I know what will! This rubber door mat!”

She stooped to pick up the dusty “Welcome” mat. As Kathleen and her aunt gazed at the object in bewilderment, she hastened to reveal what she had in mind.

“We can spear the nails through the mat so they’ll stand upright! When the tires pass over them, they can’t miss.”

“That should do it!” Miss Meadows approved.

“Judy, you’re a gem!” laughed Kathleen. “What a brain!”

“No brain, just a memory,” Judy corrected. “I recall hearing a filling station serviceman relate how vandals once damaged big truck tires that way. I’m sure it will work if we can do it!”

“I’ll get the nails,” Miss Meadows said, starting away.

In a moment she returned with an assortment in a tin can. As fast as they could, the three punctured the rubber mat, forcing the nails through so that their sharp points were upright.

“Listen!” cried Judy suddenly.

She had heard the roar of a powerful motor starting far down the private road.

“It’s the truck!” Kathleen exclaimed. “It’s coming, and we don’t have half enough nails in this mat!”

“There will be enough if the tires hit it,” Judy declared. “The important thing is to get it placed, and fast! Come on!”

Without waiting for Kathleen or her aunt, she raced for the entrance to the private road.

She could not see the big truck which was hidden by the curves of the rutty thoroughfare, but she could tell from the roar of the engine, that it was coming as fast as it could climb the steep slope. Evidently, Diethelm had warned the hi-jackers, and knowing that delay would be fatal, they were making a run for it!

Judy had no time to deliberate where she would lay the mat. She dropped it on the right hand side of the road, directly across an old truck track.

If the driver saw the mat, he could swerve to miss it. She was depending though upon the sharp curve, figuring that the truck would come around it fast, and that the big transport would roll over the nails before they could be seen.

Kathleen and Miss Meadows already had screened themselves behind the bushes lining the private road. Judy scarcely had time to slide in beside them, when the massive transport careened around the curve.

The front wheel struck a deep rut and the truck veered from the middle of the road.

“They’re going to miss it!” Kathleen moaned, gripping Judy’s arm so hard that it hurt.

But the next moment, the driver brought the truck back onto its course. Apparently, he had failed to see the studded mat lying directly in the path. Both front and rear tires rolled over the long, sharp nails.

Breathlessly, the three watchers waited. Nothing seemed to happen.

When the huge truck reached the entrance to the private road, there was a loud hissing of air. The transport began to wobble crazily. First the front tire went down and then the one at the right rear.

“We’ve done it!” Judy laughed jubilantly. “We’ve stopped them!”

“But for how long?” Miss Meadows speculated. “Don’t move, girls! Keep hidden! Those men are in an ugly mood.”

The two hi-jackers had leaped from the cab of the crippled truck. As they beheld the disaster which had befallen them, a car came up the hill, pulling alongside. It was the Forest Service automobile, driven by Lowell Diethelm. By mere inches, the tires missed the nail-studded rubber mat.

“Now what?” the ranger demanded furiously. “Can’t you keep going and get out of here?”

“Keep going?” one of the truckers snarled. “On rims? We’ll have to abandon the cargo.” Diethelm swung open the door of the coupe. “Get in!” he directed. “We’ll try to get over the state line.”

The possibility of the two hi-jackers transferring to the ranger’s car had not occurred to Judy. Now, convinced that her scheme had failed, she involuntarily started to leave her hiding place.

Miss Meadows held her back. “No, Judy!” she warned. “We’ve done all we can! Those men are dangerous. Let them go.”

“Let them go,” Judy half moaned. “Oh, this is awful! After stopping that big truck, to fail so miserably!”

“We saved the cargo at any rate,” Kathleen reminded her. “Furthermore, Diethelm hasn’t driven off yet! I don’t think he will either!”

The latter excited comment was made as she saw two Forest Service cars sweep down the main highway.

Before Lowell Diethelm could pull away, the other two automobiles had blocked the main highway.

“Our fish are netted now!” Kathleen shouted gleefully. “Who says your idea failed, Judy? It was a grand one!”

No longer fearful, the three came out of hiding.

Six rangers, two of whom the Scouts knew by sight, had surrounded Lowell Diethelm’s car. They had their revolvers trained on the two hi-jackers, but Diethelm was trying to put up a convincing story.

“I captured these birds red-handed,” he said glibly. “I was trying to get ’em to headquarters, when they over-powered me. I’m sure glad you fellows came along.”

“Yeah?” dryly inquired Ranger Wentz. “Sounds pretty phoney, Diethelm. You’ll have to think up a better one than that to tell the chief.”

By this time, Judy, Kathleen and Miss Meadows had reached the ranger cars. As rapidly as they could talk, they told the Forest Service men exactly what had occurred.

“You’re the girl who called over the radio phone, aren’t you?” one of the rangers asked Judy.

“That’s right.”

“She stopped the truck too, by putting nails on the road,” Kathleen added, very proud of her friend. “What a ‘welcome’ that mat proved to be for the hi-jackers!”

Within five minutes, the rangers were reenforced by state highway patrolmen, who had responded to an alert. If there had been any previous doubt as to the identity of the two hi-jackers, it then was dispelled. State highwaymen definitely identified Joe Pompilli, and recognized his companion as Porky Burns, a hi-jacker, who had operated in three states.

“Five or six drivers work this area,” a ranger told Judy. “Joe’s the head of the outfit though. We may never catch the others, but now that we have him, the gang will fall apart.”

“Joe was pretty reckless to keep working this territory after he knew he was wanted,” Judy remarked. “Especially after that truck accident, when Kathy and I patched him up.”

“Joe operates that way,” the ranger answered. “He was dead sure of himself. First, he could depend upon our double-crossing friend, Diethelm, to tip him off as to road blocks.”

“This private road to the cave must have been used in emergencies too,” Judy added. “My aunt saw the truck headlights on one of the nights that the state highway patrol had put up its road block.”

“Sure,” the ranger agreed, “it’s plain enough that Diethelm tipped ’em off regularly. That’s probably why they chanced making one last haul before they moved to another locality. Pompilli had taken pains to make himself known as a regular trucker on the road, especially at Silverton and Grove City where he was a good spender. He figured only the state highway patrol could cause him any trouble, and he took that chance.”

The state patrolmen requested Kathleen and Judy to accompany them to headquarters to make sworn statements as to their knowledge of what had happened. Eager to pin evidence on the two men, they went willingly. They were questioned at length, and in turn learned considerably more about how Joe Pompilli and his gang had operated.

“Without Diethelm’s help, we’d have cleaned them out weeks ago,” a patrolman told the Scouts. “He’s made a clean breast of his part in the mess to the Chief forester.”

“Diethelm has confessed?” Kathleen asked in disbelief.

“Yes, he knew we had him dead to rights anyway. Matter of fact, he’s rather remorseful, the boys tell me. Diethelm’s a queer duck. It seems he made a brilliant record in college and had a fine career ahead of him as a forest ranger. But on his first assignment, something went wrong. He ran into personal trouble with his superior, and was reprimanded. He couldn’t take it. So he brooded and figured on a way to get even.”

“Then the help he gave the hi-jackers was to even an old score with another ranger?” Judy inquired.

“Not entirely. It made him susceptible to suggestion, shall we say. Diethelm was a weak character. He wanted easy money. Joe Pompilli offered it to him, and so he sold himself cheap.”

“Diethelm even accused the girls in our Scout Camp of being careless with fire,” Kathleen remarked indignantly.

“Oh, that matter came up,” the highway patrolman said, reminded of it by her remark. “Diethelm admitted to the chief ranger that on two occasions he started small fires as a diversion. He wanted to keep rangers and patrolmen occupied to give the hi-jackers a better chance to slide their stolen cargo through.”

“Then the Scouts can’t be blamed for that fire?”

“No, they’ve been cleared.”

“Well, that’s a relief!” Kathleen laughed.

“There’s one thing that puzzles me,” Judy said thoughtfully. “When my aunt first moved into Calico Cottage, someone telephoned--”

“I can tell you about that too,” the patrolman broke in. “Krumm’s cottage stood idle for quite a spell. Now and then, Diethelm or members of Joe’s gang would use the telephone. The cottage gave a clear view of the entrance to the private road. A couple of times, we think Joe and his truckers spent a night at the cottage. Naturally, after your aunt moved in, they had to abandon using it.”

“Maybe that explains the ghost!” Kathleen exclaimed.

Judy, however, shook her head. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “At least I haven’t heard that Joe Pompilli played a flute. Our ghost is an entirely different matter.”

By the time the two girls returned to Calico Cottage, it was well after eleven o’clock. Miss Meadows anxiously awaited their return. She listened attentively to their long account of what had happened in town.

“I’m glad that’s over and we won’t be bothered by weird lights on the road any more,” she declared fervently. “If I weren’t so worried about Bart, I could begin to enjoy my vacation here.”

“Bart?” Judy repeated, startled. The excitement of the morning had washed all thought of the young milkman from her mind.

“I took it upon myself to telephone his landlady,” Miss Meadows went on. “Bart left his room early yesterday morning, and he’s not been seen since!”

“That might not mean anything serious, Aunt Mattie.”

“I talked with the other milkman this morning while you were in town,” Miss Meadows continued. “He thinks as I do, that Bart went into the cave.”

“Maybe he went down into the cavern before those hi-jackers parked themselves in the entranceway,” Kathleen speculated. “Perhaps he didn’t dare come out until they left. He may be waiting somewhere in the dark passageway even now.”

“That is a possibility,” agreed Miss Meadows, instantly becoming more cheerful. She reached for her hat and jacket. “I’ll go down there now, and let him know that it’s safe to come out.”

_Chapter 22_

DESCENT INTO THE CAVE

Judy and Kathleen would not allow Miss Meadows to go alone to Calico Cave.

Insisting upon accompanying her, they made cheerful talk as they tramped down the now familiar forest road.

Moving along the narrow path far above the silvery White River, Judy was the first to see Pete lying at the mouth of the dark cave.

“Why, he’s still there!” she exclaimed. “Poor doggie, do you suppose he’s had anything to eat or drink?”

Pete lay upon his stomach, head between his paws. A picture of utter dejection, he whined and whimpered as the girls stooped to pet him.

“Bart must be down in the cave,” Judy declared. “Otherwise, why would Pete lie here and act as if he’d lost his last friend?”

The three stepped into the dim interior of the cave. Judy cupped her hands and shouted Bart’s name repeatedly.

Her voice echoed weirdly through the cave, but there was no answering call. If Bart had descended into the cavern, it was evident that he was at a level so far below that he could not hear the cry.

“No, Judy,” Miss Meadows said firmly, as her niece would have started down into the cave. “We don’t dare explore alone. It’s unsafe.”

“What should we do?” Kathleen asked, pulling her jacket more tightly about her, for the air was cool.

“Bart may be safe enough,” Judy added anxiously. “Then again, if he braved the siphon, there’s no telling what may have happened.”

“I’ll get in touch with Bart’s landlady again,” Miss Meadows finally decided. “There’s a chance he may have gone out of town, and returned to his room by this time.”

“If he shouldn’t be back--” Judy began. “Then what?”

“I don’t know what we can do except to notify the authorities,” Miss Meadows said, deeply troubled. “Meanwhile, you girls are to return to camp. I’ll feed Pete and see if I can coax him to the cottage.”

“I don’t feel like going back to camp just now,” Judy said soberly. “Until I know that Bart is safe, I couldn’t enjoy any of the Scout activities.”

“Neither could I,” chimed in Kathleen. “It’s been such an exciting day already. I feel sort of jittery inside.”

The three crawled out of the cave into the sunlight. Pete scrambled up alertly as they emerged, but could not be coaxed away from the entranceway.

“If only we dared go down into the cave, we could learn what became of Bart,” Kathleen remarked to her companions who stood silent and uncertain. “Then we could end this dreadful suspense.”

“We can’t go down into the cave without a guide,” Miss Meadows repeated firmly. “I know of no one--”

“Captain Hager!” Judy cried. “He could help us, if he will!”

“Of course! Why didn’t I think of him? At the very least, he should be able to advise us. Where does he live, Judy?”

“I’m not sure. I think, in a cabin somewhere along the river.”

“Do you suppose you girls could find him?” Miss Meadows urged. “I’ll wait here.”

“We can try,” Judy promised.

She and Kathleen set off at once, making their way to the river level. Captain Hager was not at the dock where they first had met him, nor was his boat anywhere visible on the river.

Judy surveyed the water front, noticing a two-room shack several hundred yards down the beach.

“That might be his place,” she said. “We can try there anyway.”

A brisk walk brought them to the modest little cabin. Though small, the building was trim and neat, and had recently been whitewashed. There was a little garden at the rear, carefully watered and fertilized. An anchor, encrusted with rust, hung above the door.

“This must be Captain Hager’s place,” Judy decided.

She knocked. After a time, the door opened. Captain Hager stood there in his shirt sleeves, looking older and less spry than the girls had remembered him.

But upon recognizing the Scouts, his face creased into a welcoming smile.

“Come in, come in!” he boomed.

The room into which he led the girls was extremely severe and quite bare of furniture. There was a bunk bed, a stove, an ice box and two wooden chairs. Above the bed hung the picture of a middle-aged woman in a heavy gilt frame.

“My wife,” said Captain Hager, noticing Judy’s eyes upon the picture. “That was all I kept from the old place. Sold all my furniture at auction. An old salt like me can’t be bothered with fancy trappings.”

He limped as he walked across the cabin floor to pull out chairs for the girls.

“Your leg is bothering you?” Judy asked, taking the seat he offered.

“Oh, it’s the old rheumatiz come back to fret me,” Captain Hager sighed. “For the last couple o’ days I’ve been hobbling around like a cripple.”

Judy gazed at Kathleen despairingly, feeling that it would be useless even to broach the subject of the call. In seeking Captain Hager as a guide, she had forgotten that his lively talk and manner belied his age and infirmities.

“Now what brings you here?” the captain inquired. “If it’s fishing, I’ll have to say no, because I’m in dry dock for a couple of days until I get to feeling better again.”

“We didn’t know about your rheumatism,” Judy said. “I guess it’s quite out of the question.”

“What is?” the old man demanded. “It wasn’t fishing that brought you.”

Judy shook her head. “It’s Bart,” she told him. “We think he’s gone into the cave again. He’s been missing more than a day, and we’re afraid he’s trapped down there. Either that, or he’s attempted the siphon.”

Captain Hager did not speak for a long while. Then he muttered: “The siphon! I told that boy to wash it out of his mind, but I always knew he’d try it someday. The thought of it always was a challenge and a plague to him.”

“What do you think we should do?” Judy asked desperately. “Notify the authorities?”

“If he’s gone through the siphon, he’s beyond help,” the old man answered. “There’s no man living in this community, who would risk his life to try to force that tunnel of water. Either he’ll get back on his own, or like his father before him, he’ll be heard of no more.”

“But supposing he didn’t attempt the siphon,” Kathleen interposed. “Maybe he’s trapped somewhere below the surface by a fall of rock. Would the rangers check, do you think?”

“They might make up a search party,” the old man conceded. “But who would lead it? That cave is as simple as A-B-C for a skipper that knows the layout. The rangers have their maps, but what do they know of Hager’s Hole? Now if I were ten years younger--”

“It wouldn’t be fair to ask you,” Judy said. “You’re not feeling well and your rheumatism--”

“Who says I’m not feeling well?” Captain Hager growled. “Next to good salt air, there’s nothing better for the ache o’ old bones than cool cave air.”

“You’ll take us down there?” Judy asked eagerly. “You’re sure it wouldn’t be too hard on you?”

“I’ll go as far as the siphon, or until we find Bart,” the old captain promised.

“How soon can we get started?” Judy urged.

“As soon as I gather some rope, a good light and a few things we may need. But time’s no matter in a cave. Night or day, it’s all the same, once you’re underground.”

“Will we need heavy clothes?” Kathleen asked.

“Those you’re wearing will be all right,” the captain assured her. “The temperature is the same everywhere in the cave. Heavy clothing is cumbersome and burdens one in climbing. You’ll need flashlights and plenty of extra batteries.”

“We’ll get them and meet you at the cave entrance,” Judy said, starting for the door. She paused, and then impulsively flung her arms about Captain Hager’s bulky shoulders.

“None o’ that!” he chuckled, enjoying the embrace. “Save your pep for the cave. Going down is easy enough, but it’s a tough climb back.”

The sun was high by the time Captain Hager rejoined the two girls and Judy’s aunt at the cave entrance. Meanwhile, Miss Meadows had confirmed by a telephone call, that Bart had not returned to his rooming house.

After considerable discussion, it was decided that only Captain Hager and the two girls should make the descent into the cave. Though reluctant to see the three go without her, Miss Meadows shuddered at the thought of exploring the unknown. Captain Hager relieved her mind by assuring her that with him the girls would not be in the slightest danger.

“You’ll be more help to us here, Ma’am,” he told Miss Meadows. “If everything goes well, we should be back within four hours, unless we’re lucky enough to run into Bart before that. Who knows? The young scamp may be day dreaming down there in a sacred grotto. Sometimes, the beauty of the formations is so overpowering, it makes a lubber forget time and space and the cares o’ the world.”

“Well, don’t forget to come back as quickly as you can,” Miss Meadows warned. “I’ll be dreadfully worried until you’re back here with Bart.”

“We’ll do our best to find him,” Captain Hager said soberly. “I love that boy like my own son.”

“I know you do, and that you’re exerting yourself to go down into the cave,” Miss Meadows replied. “If you’re not back in four hours, I’ll notify the ranger station.”

“Make it five hours,” Captain Hager corrected. “I’m a mite slower than I was in my younger days. But if my ticker holds out, I’ll be back here in fine shape. Ready, maties?”

Judy and Kathleen nodded eagerly.

“Then follow me,” directed the captain. “Walk close behind and be careful about dislodging rocks.”

Single file, the three entered the cave, its ragged shadows enveloping them.

As they paused an instant, the beams of their flashlights picked up the lovely emerald green tint of roof moss. Then silently, they began the descent into the cavern and loneliness closed in.

_Chapter 23_

THE SIPHON

The descent to the chamber of the White Witch was quickly made. There, the party of three paused briefly to catch breath and to view again the weird figure which captured the imagination.

A tunnel, at times narrow and low, wound deeper and deeper into the earth. Judy and Kathleen kept close to their guide. In the stillness of the cavern they could hear his somewhat labored breathing, for even the slightest sound was magnified.

They came presently to another small chamber where they paused, speechless. Stalactites sparkled like jewels, standing out in the most fantastic shapes.

Judy could imagine animal figures, all in a variety of color, milky white, red, green and black. The colors, Captain Hager explained, came from mineral infiltration.

“No wonder Bart couldn’t resist this cave,” Judy remarked in awe, entranced. “It’s like a fairyland! How I wish all the Scouts could see it!”

In close formation, the three went on into the cavern depths. A cooler wind met them, but from where it arose they gained no clue.

The going had become harder now, and after edging through a narrow space, the three stopped for a moment beside a translucent column which rose from the floor to the roof.

As they stood thus, there came a deafening crash behind them.

Judy and Kathleen froze in their tracks, too terrified to utter a sound.

“A cave-in behind us?” Kathleen finally asked in a choked whisper.

“It’s nothing,” the captain reassured her. “Sounded like a blast of dynamite far away. Like enough the rangers are blasting a tree stump somewhere in the park area.”

“But it sounded as if the cave roof had fallen!” Judy said, still shaken.

“All sounds underground are magnified,” Captain Hager explained. “Even the dripping of water can be very loud. Off to the right there is a Talking Grotto. But we will not explore that passage, for Bart would not waste time there.”

To proceed, it was necessary to creep across a slippery formation which resembled a frozen waterfall. They passed through a room which was cluttered with grotesque toadstool types of stalagmites, and then came to formations so delicate that they appeared as a lacy cobweb.

As they sat down to rest their legs for a moment, Captain Hager told the girls that the beautiful pillars they had seen farther back were made by the joining of stalactites and stalagmites.

The growth of formations, he added, was much faster than generally believed. Varying rainfall, the thickness of the rock penetrated by water, and the rate of drip, all affected the deposits, he explained.

“All water that goes into a cave, must come out somewhere,” the captain continued. “During a hard rain storm, this cave could be dangerous at the lower levels.”

“You mean we’d get the rain down here?” Kathleen questioned in amazement.

“Belatedly, yes. Shortly now, you’ll see the underground river. During the dry months it shrivels, but in the rainy season, it thunders through the chasms like a mad demon.”

“I hope it doesn’t storm today,” Kathleen said nervously.

“The day was clear,” Captain Hager reassured her. “And there has been no recent rain to flood the underground stream.”

Farther on, the girls came to a series of small pools in which there were blind fish. They did not tarry long, but continued through another long, narrow passage.

“Do you suppose Bart came this way?” Judy finally asked. “Couldn’t he have taken any number of branch-offs?”

“The branch-offs are dead-end streets, so to speak,” replied the captain. “If I know that lad, we’ll find him at the siphon, or we’ll not find him this voyage. Tired?”

“My legs feel sort of cramped,” Judy confessed, ashamed of her weariness. “But I’m all right.”

“We’re nearing the end,” the captain encouraged the girls. “The last few yards are the hardest. Then we’ll bring up at the siphon.”

“And if Bart isn’t there?” asked Judy.

The old captain did not answer. He gazed thoughtfully at his sturdy boots, tested his light briefly on the limestone wall, and then signaled that he was ready to resume the descent.

Not far beyond the point where they had rested, the three explorers came to a chamber so large that it seemed to have no surrounding walls.

At its entrance, Captain Hager hesitated, seemingly reluctant to go on.

“If we continue to the siphon, we must cross this chamber, with no wall to guide us,” he explained. “Beyond, in the darkness, there is a single narrow passageway leading on. If we hit the target, we’ll soon be at the end of the cave. If we miss, we may spend hours, trying to grope our way. We’ll be like a ship wallowing without chart or compass. Unless you have plenty of nerve--”

“We have,” Judy said resolutely. “We’ve come so far now, we can’t turn back without learning whether or not Bart is in the cave.”

“Aye, I figured you’d say that,” Captain Hager replied.

He then uncoiled a length of nylon rope, tying it first about his own waist, then around Kathleen, and finally about Judy, who would bring up the rear.

“We must keep close together,” he warned. “If we do, there is no danger. Even if we miss the passageway on the first try, we will find it. Full steam ahead, my hearties!”

For a few feet the girls followed along a rough, jagged wall before moving slowly out into the vast room. The silence and immensity of the cavern were momentarily terrifying, for Captain Hager’s light revealed only a dark void ahead.

By supreme effort Judy and Kathleen held their nerves in rigid check. Each step seemed to be taking them deeper and deeper into oblivion. A dozen doubts assailed them. Would Captain Hager ever find the narrow passage leading out of the chamber? And if they should be successful in reaching the siphon, would not the return be even more difficult?

The darkness seemed endless, but finally Captain Hager’s light revealed a rough wall ahead. A wave of relief washed over Judy and Kathleen. But it was short lived.

Their guide had paused to move the flash beam slowly along the solid wall, first to the right, then to the left. He muttered something, but his words were indistinguishable.

“Are--are we lost?” Kathleen asked.

The captain deliberately did not answer. After a moment, he started on again, groping along the wall. Kathleen did not repeat her question.

For awhile Captain Hager kept on, the girls directly behind, following blindly. Then suddenly the old man seemed to relax, and they heard him give a throaty chuckle.

“Hear that?” he demanded.

Judy and Kathleen already had distinguished the distant sound of running water. The underground stream!

At the same instant that they heard the splash of water, Captain Hager’s flash beam focused upon the narrow opening in the cavern wall--the passageway for which he had searched.

“We near the end,” he said simply.

They moved quickly through the narrow corridor. The thunder of a distant waterfall they never were to see, was louder now in their ears.

The floor of the passageway sloped sharply downward. Kathleen slipped but did not fall, for Judy caught her arm to give her support.

Abruptly, the corridor turned, and the girls saw water ahead. The underground stream, quiet and dark, emerged from a wall of rock to flow tranquilly beneath the slightly arched cave-roof above.

Captain Hager halted. “We’ve come to the end,” he announced.

Judy and Kathleen were stunned. “The end,” Judy repeated, scarcely comprehending. “But I thought--”

“We can proceed no further without wading along the river bed,” the captain explained. “The water gradually deepens until it rises to the ceiling. At that point, one must dive through and swim underwater, or turn back.”

He focused his light to the right, and the girls saw the meeting place of wall and water.

“The siphon?” Judy asked.

“Aye, how far it goes, no man knows. It may extend for only a few feet or yards. Then again, it may run on indefinitely, with nary a pocket of air.”

“Bart--?” Judy hesitated to ask the question that was foremost in her mind.

“Surely he wouldn’t be crazy enough to try to swim through the siphon!” Kathleen exclaimed.

“The lad is a true spelunker, like his father. He has the courage of a lion, and the muscles of a young bear. Since he was a mere boy, he’s studied and dreamed about this cave.”

“But we’ve seen no evidence that he’s anywhere in the cavern,” Judy said hopefully.

“No evidence?” Captain Hager’s voice was muted, as his light came to focus upon a rock shelf a few feet above the river bed.

For a moment, neither Judy nor Kathleen understood.

Then, they fully comprehended. There on the rock ledge, set heel to heel, was an empty pair of shoes. Beside them, in a neat roll, was Bart’s shirt and jacket.

_Chapter 24_

HELP FROM CAPTAIN HAGER

Three hours now had elapsed since Captain Hager, Judy and Kathleen had ascertained that Bart Ranieau was somewhere deep in the cave, beyond the siphon.

Unable to penetrate farther, the three had made the arduous climb back to the cavern entrance where Miss Meadows anxiously awaited them.

Their report had been a discouraging one. Without question, Bart was somewhere in Calico Cave, but whether or not alive, no one could say.

“The lad may have reached an air pocket, or a chamber,” Captain Hager said. “That’s what he gambled on.”

“He’s been missing a day and a half now,” Miss Meadows reminded the seaman. “While you were down in the cave, I checked on that point. Surely, if he’s ever coming back, he’d have made it by now.”

“Aye,” the captain soberly agreed.

“Can’t something be done?” Miss Meadows urged.

“Not a man in these parts would risk that siphon, ma’am.”

“I realize that,” Miss Meadows answered. “But is there no other way to reach him, if he’s still alive? Couldn’t the rangers blast the rock perhaps?”

“It would be impractical and dangerous, Ma’am.”

“But the cave must have an exit somewhere close--if only it could be traced down! If one could approach the siphon from the other direction--”

“Aye, Ma’am,” Captain Hager replied, “I’ve been pondering on it--pondering hard.”

“Then you do have an idea!” Judy cried. “Does it have anything to do with Calico Cottage?”

“I’ve been meditatin’ along that line,” the old man admitted.

“Is there any chance the cave connects in some way with the foundation of the cottage?” Judy demanded excitedly. “Remember, all those strange sounds which seemed to come from the basement! They might have been cave noises! And we noticed a gust of cool air coming through a crack in the mortar.”

“Aye,” the captain nodded. “Bart and I discussed it many a time. Those strange sounds that have scared the living daylights out of cottage tenants come from the cave right enough.”

“Then there must be a passageway close to the foundation wall!” Judy cried.

“I tried to convince Krumm he should build on a new foundation, but he wouldn’t take advice.”

“If that old foundation could be torn down, maybe an opening down into the cave could be found!” Judy went on. “What do you think, Captain Hager?”

“It’s our only chance to ever learn what became of Bart.”

“Then why are we waiting?” Miss Meadows demanded. “We must put men to work at once!”

“Krumm will have to give his permission,” Captain Hager said, deeply troubled. “It will mean wrecking the foundation of the cottage.”

“But a young man’s life is at stake!”

“Aye,” the captain agreed, “Krumm should consent, if there’s a mite o’ humanity in him. We’ll go now and put it up to him.”

Word had spread through the village of Bart Ranieau’s plight and everyone, it seemed, was discussing the young man’s fate. Even before the little party arrived at Mr. Krumm’s real estate office, groups of curious began to congregate at the cave entranceway.

Forest rangers and state highwaymen roped off the private road leading to the cavern, and set up guards to prevent persons from trying to explore. Miss Ward, bringing her girls to Calico Cottage, learned belatedly of the disaster and what was being done to try to find Bart.

Meanwhile, Captain Hager was using all his powers of persuasion upon Mr. Krumm. The real estate man, reluctant to have his property damaged, argued that it would be a useless expenditure to tear down the old foundation wall.

“Like as not we wouldn’t find the cave exit,” he protested. “Even if we did, there’s not much chance of finding that foolhardy young man alive and you know it! He went the way his father did before him, drowned in the siphon!”

“We don’t know it,” Captain Hager retorted. “There’s air somewhere close by to that siphon.”

“How do you know?”

“Because time and again Bart found tadpoles.”

“What have they got to do with it?” Mr. Krumm demanded.

“Tadpoles are a sure sign of open air being near. They’re creatures that never venture far into underground waters.”

“So?”

“I figure there must be a brook somewhere close where the underground river empties.”

“There’s no brook around the cottage, and no water under it either.”

“I’m not concerned where the river empties,” Captain Hager said. “I do think the cottage wall connects in some way with a passage down into the cave. Where it would lead, if we get into it, no man knows.”

“You want me to tear down the foundation on a wild chance like that?”

“You’ve got to do it,” Captain Hager said grimly. He moved in close. “Either you do it like a gentleman and get credit for being a hero, or I’ll have the law on you! You can’t abandon that boy to save a dollar!”

Mr. Krumm’s eyes snapped angrily. Judy and Kathleen were certain he would order them all out of the real estate office.

But suddenly, his opposition dissolved.

“Okay, tear down the foundation!” he consented. “Get on with it!”

Once Mr. Krumm had waived his objection, men from the village, directed by forest rangers, immediately went to work.

Judy, Kathleen and the other Scouts milled about the cottage, watching as a small section of the foundation was torn apart. As the throng increased, only Miss Meadows, Miss Ward and the Scouts were permitted in the building.

Dust from the bricks and mortar kept the girls out of the cellar much of the time. But as the day wore on, a shout from below, brought them scrambling down the stairway.

By this time, one section of wall had been torn away, though the main supports of the cottage remained. The musty odor which had annoyed occupants of Calico Cottage now was very strong and definitely came from the jagged opening. A group of workmen clustered about the hole, blocking Judy’s view.

“Have you found the cave opening?” she cried. “Have you?”

“Aye,” Captain Hager informed her jovially. “But where the passage leads, we don’t know.”

“What causes the odor?” Kathleen asked, sniffing.

“Imprisoned air. It’s gradually clearing out. Like as not it comes from decaying vegetation--”

“Listen!” cried Judy tensely.

“The boy with the flute!” exclaimed Kathleen in awe.

Those in the room had frozen to attention. From the great gaping hole there issued forth a musical note, for all the world like the music of a flute.

Then there came a series of taps as if someone might be thumping a stick on hard rock.

“That’s a man-made sound!” cried Captain Hager. “Bart’s down there! He’s trying to signal us!”

“We’ll get him out!” shouted a forest ranger. “Any volunteers to go down into the hole?”

Arthur Wentz stepped forward. Rope was tied about his waist, and carefully he was lowered until his feet touched solid flooring.

For awhile those above could see the descending light, then it vanished. They paid out more and more rope until the coil was nearly exhausted.

Finally, a signal came--two short tugs. Gently, the men began to pull on the rope.

“Wentz is coming up!” one of the workmen shouted. “It’s hard pulling!”

“Then he must have found Bart!” Judy cried, hugging Kathleen in her excitement.

Minutes passed as the men kept at the rope. Then from the hole staggered Wentz and the young man he supported.

Bart was barefoot and his bare back had been covered by the ranger’s shirt. His lips were blue with cold, but he grinned with the spirit of a conqueror.

“Captain Hager!” he mumbled, embracing the old man. “I did it!”

“You sure did, son,” the captain answered, tears streaming down his grimy cheeks. “You almost did for yourself too.”

“I thought you’d get me out,” Bart said. “I never gave up, never for a minute.”

“You can thank these Scouts,” Captain Hager said, smiling at Judy and Kathleen. “They pestered me to go down into the cave with ’em. If they hadn’t, we’d never have learned that you went through the siphon.”

“It was a wonderful but terrifying experience,” Bart mumbled. “My father--”

“That can wait,” Captain Hager said gruffly. “You can tell us all about it later. Get yourself to a warm bed now, before you die of pneumonia. Get along with ye!”

Nearly exhausted, and shaking with cold, Bart was lifted bodily and carried to a waiting ambulance.

_Chapter 25_

COURT OF HONOR

Two days had elapsed since Bart Ranieau had been brought out of Calico Cave suffering from shock, but otherwise unharmed by his thrilling explorations.

Long hours of sleep and plenty of food had restored him to his former peak of health. But as his strength returned, he became restless and pestered hospital officials until at last they dismissed him.

Almost immediately, Bart sought Judy and Kathleen at Pine Cone Camp to thank them for saving his life.

Word spread like wildfire that the young explorer had arrived and soon the daring young man was surrounded by Girl Scouts who teased him to tell the story of his adventure.

“Start at the very beginning,” Judy urged. “Don’t leave out anything.”

“That’s a large order, but I’ll try,” grinned Bart. “Well, I’d made up my mind to try the siphon. I didn’t tell anyone, because I knew if I did, the authorities would try to stop me.”

“I left my shoes and shirt on the ledge because I couldn’t be burdened with them in swimming. I reasoned too, that if I got through, wet clothes wouldn’t help keep me warm. So I stripped to my trunks.”

“How long was the siphon?” inquired Betty Bache, who had joined the group of intent listeners.

“Long enough,” Bart said grimly. “The first one wasn’t so bad.”

“Then there was more than one?” inquired Ardeth Packett.

“Two of them. I waded at first. The water finally came up to my neck and then over my nose. When I couldn’t walk, I dived.”

“Weren’t you scared to death?” Virginia Cunningham asked with a shiver.

“I sure was,” Bart admitted. “I knew I might find water to the ceiling for an indefinite distance ahead. Anyway, I decided to chance it. I took a great deep breath and plunged through.”

“What happened?” questioned Beverly Chester breathlessly.

“The first barrier was astonishingly easy. I was through it in less than a minute and was able to wade again. My only light was a container of matches carried in the top of my bathing cap. Ahead I could see another siphon.”

“You were reckless to go on,” Kathleen chided.

“Maybe,” Bart acknowledged, “but it would have been very nearly as hard to have gone back. I hoped I’d find where the cave came out.”

“Tell us about the second siphon,” Judy urged.

“It was a tricky one, I’m here to report. I don’t know how long I was underwater, but it seemed a minute and a half. My lungs were bursting when finally I emerged. But it was worth it!”

“What did you find?” demanded Beverly.

“A hall filled with the most beautiful formations I’ve ever seen.”

“Better than the White Witch and those chambers before one gets to the siphon?” Judy asked.

“Oh, a thousand times better! I stood there speechless and in awe, dazzled by the glitter of so much crystal. For a little while, I lost all count of time. It seemed unreal.”

“Go on,” Kathleen urged, as Bart became lost in his own memories.

“Those stalactites and stalagmites were fantastic beyond description,” Bart told the Scouts. “There were animal shapes, and statue-like figures--one a woman with a bridal veil. Why, if steps can be built down from Calico Cottage, everyone can see the chamber! Krumm will make more money opening up the cave than he ever could do renting the cottage.”

“While you were down there, you didn’t solve the mystery of Calico Cave’s ghost, did you?” Judy asked. “You didn’t meet our little boy with the flute?”

“I certainly did,” Bart replied. “The explanation for those flute noises is simplicity itself. One of the roof formations takes the shape of a long hollow tube. Each time water drops through the tube onto the floor, it produces the musical note.”

“Did you realize how close you were to the basement of Calico Cottage?” Judy next asked the young explorer.

“I thought I might be somewhere near, but I couldn’t be sure. One loses all sense of direction under ground. I tried to climb, but the rocks were straight up, and I couldn’t get a grip.”

“When you first came out of the cave, you spoke of your father,” Kathleen said, rather reluctant to remind Bart of a painful subject.

“Yes, I know now what became of him,” he answered. “My father didn’t drown as we thought. He made both of the siphons just as I did.”

“Then he was trapped in the chamber and unable to signal anyone.”

“I’m not sure if he tried or had the strength to signal,” Bart responded. “I found the skeleton and a note, only part of which I’ve been able to read. My dad had a heart attack. He wasn’t too expert as a swimmer, and the exertion together with the excitement of his discovery, may have brought on a sudden attack. It must have taken him fast.”

“But there was no escape from the chamber?” Virginia probed. “No way back?”

“Of that I’m not sure either,” Bart returned. “It would take a hardy swimmer to swim against the current. I think I might have made it. I was turning the thought over, trying to decide what to do. I’d about made up my mind that if no help came, I’d attempt it before my strength left me.”

“Does the cave have no exit except through the cottage foundation?” Ardeth next interposed a question. “What becomes of the underground river?”

“It empties into the brook which flows into the river,” Bart explained. “But no one can follow the course of the underground stream farther than I went. The way beyond is barred by solid rock.”

The young explorer spent more than an hour at camp, telling the Scouts many interesting facts about caves in general.

All the girls were envious of Judy and Kathleen because they had viewed so many of the beautiful formations.

“The most breath-taking sights are in the chamber directly under Calico Cave,” Bart said. “There’s no reason why a ladder or steps can’t be built down there, so everyone can view them. I am to talk to Mr. Krumm today and see what can be done. It’s a cinch he can’t rent his cottage without extensive repairs, and it would pay him to open up the cave instead.”

Since the tearing down of the cottage foundation wall, Miss Meadows had not been able to stay in the dwelling. She had taken a room at the hotel for one night, and after that Mr. Krumm had transferred her to another one of his cottages, directly on Morning Glory Lake.

Surprisingly, the real estate man had announced that Miss Meadows might have the place rent free.

“You’ve had a rugged time of it at the other cottage,” he acknowledged. “You deserve a couple of peaceful weeks.”

The girls correctly surmised that Mr. Krumm’s generosity was occasioned by a belated realization that Calico Cave had great commercial possibilities.