Two years had slipped by since the advent of the party into the land of
mystery, and at length the white men left in Hez determined they would
endeavor to find their companions who had disappeared, and who, they
believed, were not far distant, but for some reason were prevented from
rejoining them.
Prof. Easy, Haypole and Jones concluded to make an effort to find a way
to get below on a level with the Devil’s Kingdom.
They set out very early one morning, taking the passage that led to the
brink of the latter-named place.
When they arrived there they began carefully studying their
surroundings, to find a means of descent.
They had scarcely been there ten minutes when a low rumble was heard,
coming, it seemed, from beneath them.
“An earthquake!” exclaimed the professor.
The words had hardly left his lips when all three were thrown upon the
ground by a tremendous shock, which lasted nearly half a minute.
When they rose to their feet, a few moments later, in a half-dazed
condition, a startling sight met their gaze.
The light, which had hitherto been quite bright, was now very dim, and
flashed forth in fitful bursts.
But it was enough to enable them to see that a huge pile of rocks had
been scattered about, showing a clear passage to the country below.
“If there are no further shocks,” remarked the professor, calmly, “this
will prove a Godsend to us. It has shown us what we have been looking
for for so long.”
They waited for perhaps half an hour, and then, as they experienced no
further signs of another quake, they started down the decline before
them.
Down they went, until they struck the level of the stream that emerged
from the Devil’s Kingdom.
Once here, they had no difficulty in discovering footprints made by
somebody who had been there before them.
“Hurrah!” shouted the Yankee. “I knew I was right. We’ll find Leo and
Dick sure--see if we don’t! These are the prints of the gal’s feet, who
brought Leo here.”
His companions were forced to admit that he was right, and so they
followed the trail along the bank of the stream until the falls were
reached, and then another descent had to be made.
There was nothing to hinder them from going down, so they did so at
once.
Andrew Jones produced a torch, and was just about to light it, when
Haypole caught him by the arm in an excited manner, and exclaimed:
“Gosh-ding it, look there! It looks like a political torchlight
procession, don’t it?”
He pointed to a spot on their left as he spoke.
About three miles distant they plainly observed a band of men, carrying
torches, emerge from the mouth of a cavernous passage.
“I ain’t got a great deal of money with me, but I’ll be ding-wizzened
if I won’t bet fifty dollars that Leo is in that gang!” said the
Yankee, producing his pocketbook in a matter-of-fact way.
“I have not got any money, and if I had I would not bet with you,”
returned Jones. “I am of the same opinion as you. Let us advance toward
them; we can get near enough to see just who and what they are without
being observed ourselves.”
“Agreed!” exclaimed Prof. Easy; whereupon they set out in the direction
of the approaching torchlights.
As they gradually neared them, they saw that there were about thirty
persons marching along, dragging some heavy concern behind them, and
carrying torches.
“Do you know what I am a-goin’ ter do?” said Martin Haypole, coming
to a halt. “I am a-goin’ ter fire off my revolver an’ prove that Leo
Malvern is in that crowd.”
In an instant he had drawn his revolver and fired a shot.
The echo of the report had scarcely died out when there was an
answering one from the approaching torch bearers.
“Great boots!” yelled the Yankee, jumping about three feet in the air;
“what did I tell you?”
Then he opened wide his mouth and led his companions in a deafening
cheer.