University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XVIII.
A TRICK OF THE ENEMY.

THE gas and oil lamps were lighted, and, as the sun sank to rest behind the hills, the auto began the night trip. The way was still upward, for the summit of the mountains had not yet been reached. Ned was steering and Jerry was on the seat beside him.

The machine topped a long rise and came to the brow of a small incline, the descent of which, on the other side, was quite steep.

It was now dark, for the moon had gone behind a cloud. The road was not of the best, and Ned had the machine pretty well under control. Down it went on the slope.

Suddenly Jerry gave a cry and reached over to shut off the power.

"Jam on the brakes!" he cried to Ned.

The steersman obeyed, and, with a grinding sound, the auto came to a halt, with a sort of jar.

"What's the matter?" asked Nestor. "Some obstruction on the road; looks like a

log," answered Jerry. "I just happened to see it in time."

He got out and ran ahead.

"It's a tree cut down right across the path," he called back. "A big one, too. If we'd hit it, running as we were, we'd have gone to smash."

They all got out of the car and gathered about the obstruction. Broswick alighted from his horse and made a close inspection.

"This was done on purpose," he declared. "It has been freshly cut and was chopped on the side next to the road so's to fall right across an' block our way."

"I wonder who did it?" asked Bob.

"There's only one gang who could have an object in such a trick as this," said Ned.

"Who?" inquired Bob.

"Noddy Nixon's crowd. They want to delay us as much as possible so they can reach the mine first."

"I believe Jerry is right," put in Nestor. "This is one of the enemy's tricks, all right."

For a little while the adventurers stood and looked at the tree that obstructed their further progress.

"Well, what's to be done?" asked Ned.

"It's too big for us to lift out of the way," said Bob. "We'll have to wait until morning and then go get some axes and chop it in two."

"Don't do that," exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, so earnestly that the boys thought he might have some other plan to propose.

"Why not?" asked Jerry.

"Because there may be some valuable specimens of insects on that tree, little green or brown toads, katydids or other things. Let it stay there until morning so I may gather them."

"The tree is likely to stay there until morning, all right enough," observed Nestor, "so you'll have all the time you want, Professor."

"There's no need of delay," spoke Jerry, suddenly.

"How you goin' to git rid of the tree?" asked Nestor.

"I'll show you," replied the boy.

He ran to the back of the auto, took out a long, stout rope and fastened this to the tree, near the branch end. The other end of the cable Jerry brought back to the machine. This he now tied to the rear axle of the automobile, and then, getting into the front seat, he turned the machine around.

Gradually increasing the speed, he sent the auto ahead. The rope tightened, there was a straining, cracking sound and the tree was pulled to one side of the road by the power of the auto. The thoroughfare was left free for passage.

"I guess they didn't think of that," remarked

Jerry, as he replaced the rope and turned the machine around. "Now we can go ahead."

"Good for you!" cried Nestor. "We'll beat 'em yet, an' at their own game!"

They piled into the auto, and with Jerry at the wheel, went forward again, Broswick's horse keeping up. They traveled for about an hour longer and then Nestor suggested that as they had reached a good spot it might be wise to camp there for the rest of the night.

It was not long before every one was snoring in slumber. Ned was the first one to awake, and he did so as the result of a vivid dream he had that he was sliding downhill on top of a barrel, when it collapsed and threw him into a snow-bank.

He opened his eyes to find the ground all white about him, and about three inches of snow covering his rubber blanket.

"Where are we?" he called out, his voice awakening the others.

"A snow squall!" cried Broswick. "I thought we were gittin' high enough to have 'em. Waal, it won't amount to much."

"Are snow storms common here the end of September?" asked Jerry.

"They are when you git high enough in the mountains," replied the hunter. "Many's the night I've gone to bed thinkin' it was summer, to wake up an' find it winter, an' me sleepin' under

a foot of snow. The storms come up so easy you don't know anythin' about 'em."

"Will it last long?" asked Ned.

"No; it'll melt when the sun strikes it," was the answer. "But snow or no snow, we must have breakfast."

Broswick scraped away a place amid the white blanket and found some wood. A blaze was soon kindled, and the appetizing smell of coffee filled the crisp air. A hasty but substantial meal was made, and then the travelers, urged on by the call of gold in the mine they were striving to reach, took up their journey again.

As Broswick had said, as soon as the sun rose the snow began to melt and soon the landscape showed no signs of the winter costume it had masqueraded in. The adventurers were now close to the top of the mountain, and would shortly begin descending on the other slope. They had dinner beside a swift, cold brook, from which Broswick caught several large trout that made an excellent and very welcome addition to the meal, broiled as they were over the coals.

It was late that afternoon when the hunter, who was riding somewhat in the rear, came galloping up on his horse.

"I'm afraid we're in for it," he said.

"In for what?" asked Nestor.

"A rippin' old thunder storm," was the answer.

"The clouds back there are as black as ink an' the wind's drivin' 'em right this way. If I know anythin' of signs, an' I ought to, considerin' I've hunted in these mountains for nigh onto twenty years, we're goin' to have a regular rip-snorter."

"Snow one day and a thunder storm the next," observed Jerry. "This is a queer country."

Events soon proved the old hunter was right. The wind began to blow a regular gale and the clouds made the sky almost as dark as night. The auto was going downhill; Jerry was taking it along as easily as he could.

Suddenly the storm burst with a terrific peal of thunder that accompanied a blinding flash of lightning. It seemed to shake the very earth. Then came a regular deluge of rain.

"Run the machine under a tree," advised Nestor. "We'll be washed away if we stay in the road."

"There's a good place, just ahead!" shouted Broswick. "Under the oak. Leave the auto there and run for the cave!"

"What cave?" cried Jerry.

"There's one on the left side of the road, a little above the tree," said Broswick. "I've stayed in it often when I was caught in a storm. It'll hold all of us an' the horse."

The machine was halted beneath the oak. Then, after rubber blankets had been spread to keep dry

the baggage in the auto, the adventurers raced for the cave, led by Broswick.

They found the cavern to be a dry, roomy one, a natural hole scooped out of the side of the mountain. Once inside, the war of the elements could not harm them. They drew back from the mouth of the cave and listened to the heavy rumble of thunder and watched the brilliant lightning.

It seemed as if the very flood-gates were opened. The wind blew a regular hurricane, and the lightning was incessant.

Suddenly there came a dull rumbling and the cave was jarred by a shock. Then it grew as black as night.

"That struck somewhere!" cried Jerry.

"And near here!" exclaimed Broswick. "I'm afraid it was too close for comfort."

"Are we in any danger?" asked Professor Snodgrass, calmly.

Broswick had groped his way forward. He seemed to be fumbling in the darkness at the mouth of the cave.

"What's happened?" shouted Nestor.

"A rock has fallen and closed the mouth of the cavern!" cried the hunter.