THE MISSING BOY.
Only a few of the boys hung around after Joe started for the old coal
mine. They did not dare to remain out too long, and so went home.
Sam and Larry were the last to leave, and then it was with the
understanding that they were to meet at our hero’s house before five
o’clock in the morning.
Five o’clock found them on hand. A few minutes later Carl Lathrop came
up.
It was then the lads received the astonishing bit of information that
Joe had not yet come home.
His folks were much worried about him, and all wondered where he was.
Half an hour passed, and then Sam, Larry and Carl struck out to hunt
their chum up.
It took them about the same time to reach the mine as it had taken our
hero.
“There is a marked card,” said Sam, pointing to the card at the
entrance, “That shows he entered.”
“I knew something would happen,” said Larry. “The ghosts----”
“Nonsense!” cried Carl. “It’s more likely he slipped and fell. It was
foolish anyway to come in such darkness.”
The boys walked on and found several other cards, including those left
in the deserted cabin.
When they came to the pit and the stone steps leading to it they went
down with great care.
“No card here,” said Larry. “I guess he found the pit too much for him.”
“Hullo! Look here!” suddenly ejaculated Carl.
He pointed to a number of bright red stains on a flat rock at their
feet.
“What is it?”
“Blood, boys!”
They all gathered around and surveyed the spots with sober faces.
What did it mean?
No solution of the mystery offered itself.
They walked past the rocks which concealed the entrance to the cave
several times, but never dreamed of what was behind them.
At last they left the pit and walked on.
Soon they came upon the cards Lemuel had so cunningly dropped.
“He came this way and left the mine,” cried Sam.
When the lads saw the cards strung out clear to the fields beyond they
felt much relieved.
“That settles it,” said Sam. “He certainly left the mine and didn’t
tumble down those awful steps.”
“But where did he go?” asked Carl.
Ah, that was another question. In vain they sought for a solution.
Later on several other boys joined in the search, and then came a
number of men.
As a matter of fact, the entire district was alarmed.
Not to appear in any way guilty, Lemuel joined in the search, making
sure, however, to keep away from the pit in the quarry.
Jake Foley was too sick to do anything. Miserable beyond description,
he remained around home, out of sight of every one.
And in the meanwhile what of poor Joe? Had that cruel shove into the
pit really killed him?
Not quite. It was true he was fearfully bruised, and that when he
finally struck the bottom all became a terrible blank.
How long he remained unconscious he could never afterward tell.
When he came to all was pitch dark around him.
His head ached as it never had before, and with his mind in a whirl he
climbed out of the cave into which he had been placed and started for
home.
But he could not go far, and soon sank beneath a clump of bushes and
became unconscious once more.
At last, after many hours had passed, as we know, he went on again,
more dead than alive.
He was almost home when he ran plump into Sam and Larry. The boys gave
a shout and clasped him warmly by the hand.
“My, but I’m glad you are safe!” cried Sam, and Larry uttered words to
the same effect.
Of course, the lads were anxious to hear Joe’s story, but he felt too
tired to tell it just then. They walked home with him, and listened to
all he had to say after he had had some hot coffee to drink and some
dinner.
“Those rascals meant to kill me, I think,” said Joe, when his story was
finished. “I only escaped by a miracle.”
“Who were they?”
“I’ll never tell. There seemed to be a man and two boys, but I am not
sure.”
“You didn’t see their faces?”
“No, it was too dark for that.”
“Did they rob you?”
Our hero had not thought of that. He felt in his pockets.
“Yes.”
This put a new phase on the case, to the others’ way of thinking.
All hands talked it over and came to the conclusion that Joe had been
followed by three villainous tramps. No doubt the tramps had thought
him well to do, and imagined they would make a rich haul by robbing him.
A search was organized by the people of the villages around, and that
night six tramps were brought in. But they all proved their innocence
and were let go the next day on promise to quit the neighborhood
immediately.
When Lemuel and Jake heard Joe was safe they could scarcely believe
their ears. For a whole day they were in mortal terror for fear that
our hero would mention them as two of the gang who had assaulted him.
It was nearly a week before Joe felt like himself again. He went to
school, but did not help much at home.
When he again met Jake Foley that boy did not dare to look him in the
face. Joe did not say anything, but went to thinking. Did Jake know
anything of the assault? Time would tell.
With Lemuel it was different. He was too brazen-faced and stony-hearted
to be ashamed at anything. He passed our hero staringly, and even
spread a report that Joe had got up the tale of the assault just to
make folks talk about him.
This story our hero did not like, and one day he cornered the bully in
the schoolyard and the two came to blows in double-quick order, and
Lemuel went home with two black eyes and a nose that was swollen to
twice its natural size.
This put the bully in a fearful temper.
“I’ll do him yet, see if I don’t,” he growled to Jake Foley.
“Better let him alone,” said Jake, who was not yet over his scare. “You
can’t do anything with him, I’m convinced of that.”
“Oh, you always were chicken-hearted,” retorted Lemuel, and then and
there he and Jake Foley fell out and were friends no more.
It was a good thing for Jake, for he was not naturally a bad lad,
and he at once became better in a hundred ways until a number of the
schoolboys got to quite like him. He never tried to harm Joe again.