While the car carrying the Secret Service men and Frank and the
disgruntled young Bill dashed back to the city, the car with the
dynamiters and their terrible load rolled smoothly on toward Camp
Knox at Stithton. They were a clever lot, hiding their infernal
machines within the very boundaries of the Government camp, and if it
had not been for the boys and their wireless, they might have
operated forever. The country was so rough, so uninhabited, that the
wandering hoboes strolling along the mountain trails so near the camp
never raised a question in the minds of the M.P.’s. And luxurious
cars bearing pretty women driving back and forth between Louisville
and Camp Knox were so numerous that even the people living along the
road had ceased to look after them as they passed.
A couple of miles from West Point the car stopped beside the road,
and a young woman in sport skirt and sweater jumped out, a book under
her arm, and strolled up into a little grove. The car went on. The
lady sat down, felt into a silk work-bag for a piece of candy, and
fell to reading.
A couple of miles out of Stithton, in a deep gully where the road was
bad the car stopped again. There was a long wait, but no one got
out, and an airplane far overhead turned and in a series of circles
went humming far to the left. When the car started, the plane,
strangely enough, was once more high overhead. But the men in the
car did not notice that. Airplanes from Stithton were always buzzing
around. The Station at the Camp flew from four to six planes all of
every day. The man at the wheel looked up in an interested, casual
way, and drove his car carefully forward. A half mile from the Camp
the car stopped again and a stout man stepped from the brush. He
took the driver’s seat, and the man who had been driving crawled over
into the tonneau.
In a couple of minutes, two tramps hustled out of the machine, as
though they wished to swing free of it before anyone saw them. One
of them carried a large bundle carelessly done up in a red bandana of
extra size, the other a frayed and torn knapsack.
They strolled leisurely toward the Camp, and the new driver, starting
the car, went on, entered the Camp, and stopped at the Adjutant’s
office, where he asked for an officer, but who was away on sick
leave. The stranger was sorry. They were old classmates, he
explained. He was passing through, and thought he would look the
Captain up.
The Adjutant was sorry too, but cheered up over the cigar the
stranger gave him. Cigars like that were like a patent of nobility.
Wouldn’t the stranger like to look over the Camp? The stranger had
some time to kill and he would be delighted. The Adjutant joyfully
steered him around. When the stranger finally drove off, the
Adjutant made haste to lock four more of those amazing cigars in his
locker.
Up in the airplane, Ernest sat at the wheel, while Eddie and Dee,
each armed with powerful glasses, watched the car far below.
Everything had gone with the utmost smoothness. Thanks to the white
panel which Ernest had painted on the top of Frank’s car, he had been
able to pick them up without the least trouble. And once on the
Dixie Highway he followed the other car easily. Ernest listened to
the reports of the boys without interest. He thought that the lady
passenger would be dropped in some safe place, and was not surprised
at the appearance of the third man.
But when the two hoboes got out and dawdled along toward Camp, the
boys and Ernest felt that the plot was unfolding fast. They watched
the car enter the Camp, while the tramps trudged along in the rear,
and when the Adjutant, after talking to the driver, sallied out with
him, Ernest growled. “Now we will have to do all our sleuthing up in
the air. We can’t come down and chase those fellows up while that
guy is on deck. The very minute the airplane started down to the
Field they would come hustling over. That Adjutant is nutty on
flying, and this is the only plane out today. Keep your eyes on the
tramps, boys!”
He brought the plane directly over the Adjutant’s office and,
cloud-high, commenced a series of lazy manoeuvers.
“It is getting near sundown,” he said. “If they don’t know it is me,
they will think some of those kids are crazy. They are supposed to
come down by four o’clock. Well, they will have to work it out! Do
you see the hoboes?”
“They have just turned in at the gate, and are going toward the hill
trail,” reported Eddie.
“Wish ’em a pleasant journey!” said Ernest hopefully. “I want them
to get wherever they are going before dark. If they don’t suspect
us, they will, too, because there is no reason for them to wait for
dark. You can’t see a step of that mountain road from the Camp.”
They hung high in the air, watching the two tiny figures, invisible
except through the glasses, move ever so slowly up the winding road.
Imperceptibly Ernest allowed the plane to settle until with the naked
eye they could see the face of the mountain with the dark gashes
along the trail here and there, where the openings to the caves
smeared the rock. Then a violent start and gasp from Eddie startled
Ernest so that the plane ducked.
“Look, look!” he screamed. “There it is! There is the face in the
rock! See the eyebrows made of the bushy trees? That was what all
the messages and the writing in the book was driving at! I bet there
is where the tramps will land!”
“I bet you are right,” said Ernest, no less excited than the boys.
“Where are they now?”
“Just coming around the bend! Oh, gosh, they are going to sit down!”
“Well, if they are loaded up with dynamite and infernal machines, I
bet they are good and ready to rest,” said Dee.
However, in a couple of minutes the men plodded on and soon, as the
boys watched breathlessly, they reached the queer face, and like
shadows disappeared and were gone.
“They have gone in, sure as shooting!” exclaimed Eddie in awed tones.
“Now what next, Ern?”
“More watchful waiting, kid,” replied Ernest. “Don’t take your glass
off that face. If they leave, we will go down and explore. If they
stay, we will get some help from Camp and take ’em alive.”
For what seemed an eternity the plane hung there, swinging idly on
the air currents, the boys straining their eyes at the glasses.
Then at last, one after another, two figures appeared, stood for a
moment, and passed rapidly down the trail. Ernest with a sigh of
relief settled a little more and saw the big car of the stranger turn
and make rapidly out of the Camp.
Ernest flew over to the landing field and came down. Leaving his
plane in the care of one of the men, the three made their way across
the Camp.
“Now, remember, boys, not a peep to anyone! We will go sit on the
trail, and see if the tramps come down and start toward the highway.
Then we will go up.”
In ten minutes the tramps appeared, passed unsuspiciously, and were
lost to sight.
“Now!” said Ernest. “Are you ready?” The boys were on their feet in
an instant. They swept up the hill, and reached the narrow opening
all out of breath. All three had flashlights and Ernest leading,
they squeezed inside.
They looked the space over carefully but saw nothing suspicious.
Then one after another they wriggled through another small opening
into the second and larger room. This too was empty, but Ernest,
flashing his light about, brought it to a standstill in one corner.
“The heap of shale!” said Eddie breathlessly.
They went over, and carefully dug into a corner.
“For goodness’ _sake_, don’t joggle a _single pebble_!” said Ernest.
“You don’t know how they have cached this stuff. Perhaps they have
fixed it so if any stranger touches it, it will go off.”
“You are a cheerful chap, aren’t you?” demanded Eddie as he took
stone after stone gently from the pile and laid it down behind him.
“It is there!” said Ernest. “Don’t uncover any more of it. Now I
tell you what. Are you boys game to stay here with me on guard
tonight? If so, I will go down and wireless to Bill, and the Secret
Service men can grab the gang back there in Louisville.”
“Of course we are game!” said Dee cheerfully. “Anything that will
help to break up this gang goes with me.”
Ernest paused at the opening.
“I will _telephone_,” he said. “I won’t wireless on account of old
De Lorme getting the message game as we have picked up his now and
then. Don’t light a light in here unless you have to. No one knows
who is prowling around.”
He went off, and the two boys sat down in the inner chamber and
whispered together. A cave is never a cheerful spot. Even in
daytime it gives you queer thrills and chills, and at night, without
a light-- Well, Bill and Dee sat close and said little. Every
little while they heard strange sounds like someone stepping on the
gravel outside. Or sounds inside like sniffles, or grunts, or
breathing! Once, near them on the hillside, a fox screamed, and
Eddie felt, as soon as he was able to feel anything at all, that his
hair had turned white. He could tell by the chilly, creepy feeling
at the roots that the damage was done. He wondered what Virginia and
Elizabeth would say when they saw his snow-white head.
He thought that he was alone in his terror until he heard Dee whisper
shakily: “S-s-s-s-say, E-e-e-eddie, w-what w-was t-that?”
“A fox,” said Eddie, smoothing his pompadour.
“Gosh!” sighed Dee. “I thought it was a woman crying.”
“Naw, that’s only a fox,” said the country-wise Eddie. “They make a
fierce racket when they yell.”
“I wonder if that one wants to get in here. Perhaps it has a den in
here somewhere,” whispered Dee.
“Shoo!” whispered Eddie hoarsely. He did not care to have a fox
galumping in, in the dark. He was not _afraid_, but he carefully
drew in his feet. He knew that Dee’s were well under him. But the
sound was not repeated.
When Ernest presently said “Hi!” in the entrance, both boys leaped
and then sighed so loudly with relief that Ernest heard them, and
laughed. “Not scared, were you?” he asked.
“Naw, of course not!” the boys hastened to assure him, and to change
the conversation quickly Eddie asked, “Did you get them on the
telephone?”
“Yes. They were waiting to hear from me,” said Ernest, sitting down.
“I don’t believe there will be any trouble out there. I am going to
sleep. I don’t see any reason for any of us to sit up. There is no
suspicion afloat, I will be bound. I brought three blankets up from
my quarters, and the floor isn’t hard. It is certainly bone-dry,” he
added, kicking up a little dust. “And here are some sandwiches,”
taking some parcels out of his pockets.
“I don’t think this is so worse,” grinned Eddie, biting out a neat
semi-circle.
Ernest brought in the blankets and threw himself down on the floor.
“We heard a fox screech,” said Eddie, “and you should have seen Dee
jump. I thought he would go through the ceiling.”
“Aw, what makes you say that?” objected Dee. “Eddie, here, threw a
fit!”
“You both got a good scare, if it was anything like some of the foxes
I have heard,” said Ernest, laughing. “Now, let’s go to sleep. I
want to get up sort of early because the Secret Service men will be
here to take charge of this stuff soon after daybreak.”
“That suits me!” said Eddie, and soon they were all sleeping
peacefully.
In Louisville things were happening. Even while the car Frank was
driving was still on the Dixie Highway, things happened! The workman
opened the bundle that Bill had thrown into the car, and in a few
moments there was no workman there at all! Just a well-dressed,
kindly looking, middle-aged man with glasses who sat back and looked
with interest at the scenery. The two soldiers faded too, and in
their places two officers, a Major and a Captain of Infantry, flecked
the dust from their boots and exchanged pleasantries.
“Gosh!” said Frank when he had taken in the changed appearance of his
passengers. “Wish _I_ could turn into something! Wish I could turn
into a millionaire!”
The others laughed. “That’s a hard turn to make,” said the Major.
“But we change so often that sometimes it is hard to tell what we
really are.”
“I would like to turn into a Secret Service man,” Bill said smiling.
“That is what you are very likely to turn into, my boy,” said the
Captain, “if you keep up your present trick of catching dynamiters by
the heels.”
“Gee, I would like that!” said Bill longingly. “How do you go about
it? What do you have to study?”
“Your daily lessons in High for one thing,” said Frank, laughing.
“Yes, indeed,” seconded the Major. “Lessons in High, and then some!
You will use all you can possibly learn and then you will spend a
good part of your time kicking because you don’t know ten times more.”
“What are we going to do next?” Bill asked. Remarks about school
bored him to tears.
“If you will drive down to the L. & N. Station, I will send the
fellows there up to watch the hotel, where the men and the woman are
staying. As soon as it is dark we three will call on Mr. De Lorme.”
“Aw,” said Bill pleadingly, “can’t I be in on that? Are you going to
arrest him?”
“We are going to _try_ pretty hard,” said the Major, smiling. “Well,
it is rather unusual, to be sure, but if you happen to be on the next
porch working hard, the way you were this afternoon, we will see what
we can do.”
“Aw!” said Bill again. “Aw, I did that for the Cause, Major!”
“Certainly, and I hope you will never have to do anything harder.”
He clapped Bill on the back. “Just be there, and see what happens.”
At the L. & N. Station the Secret Service agent who had been the
workman went in and presently came out saying that _that_ was all
right. And then Frank headed for home, and arriving there, took the
three strangers to a room where they made certain additions to their
attire in the shape of revolvers and handcuffs. The one-time workman
strolled out into the alley a little later as a good-natured looking
policeman, who squinted into the garbage pails on the block, to the
distress of several well-meaning but forgetful maids who could not
remember the hard and fast rule of the city about the division of
garbage.
And soon after supper Bill, smooth of hair and rather pale of face,
donned white flannel trousers and a clean white shirt, and in this
gala attire went down to call on Elizabeth Crowley.