THE BLAST
Roy, after an hour of basking on the turf in the mellow warmth of
the sunshine, felt himself his own man again, in spite of the dull
pain in his head. Curiosity spurred him to action. He stretched
himself luxuriously, then stood up, bent his right arm until the
biceps was iron hard, to prove that the strength was still in him.
Thereafter, he made his way into the cavern. When he had come into
the big room, he found his lantern by the aid of matches, lighted
it, and then paused, listening, uncertain as to which of the two
passages he should follow. He could hear nothing, and presently
decided on the left one, in which he had met his discomfiture. He
traversed this until he reached the rift that gave communication with
the adjacent tunnel. Here, again, he halted, to give ear intently,
and once again he could detect no sound. He decided that his friends
must be somewhere in the passage on the right, and crossed into
it, continuing the descent. He had not gone far when he heard the
familiar roaring of Billy Walker’s voice, and knew that those whom he
sought were ahead of him in the tunnel. He quickened his steps, and,
much to his astonishment, found that the way now led upward, rather
steeply. He reached a level, and heard the huge voice of the sage,
followed by the mellow peal of David’s laughter. An instant later, he
stood within the second chamber of the cavern, and called out to his
friends, who were moving slowly along the side opposite him.
Just as the two turned in surprise on recognizing the wounded man’s
voice thus unexpectedly, another noise caught their ears, and caused
them to check the greetings on their lips. From the third passage
came the clatter of feet running swiftly over the stone floor. As
they gazed, the squat figure of Jake darted into the room, to halt,
panting, as his eyes fell on the three men.
“Hurrah!” the boatman gasped weakly, for the hasty pace from the pit
below had winded him. He swung his lantern in a flourish of triumph.
The glee of the man permitted only one possible explanation. The
three witnesses of that exultant entrance knew that the treasure had
been found. Forthwith, they shared the messenger’s excitement. Jake
told his story in few words. Within a half-minute of his coming, the
four were hurrying down the third passage, toward the spot where Saxe
was waiting beside his chest of gold. He heard the noise of their
approach, and, with a little start, aroused himself from the blissful
dreaming into which he had fallen, wherein the gold of a woman’s hair
had counted as of more worth than that locked in the brass-bound box
at his feet.
There ensued a period of general joy, though the specific causes of
delight varied somewhat. Jake took keen pleasure in the fact that
the one exciting incident of a humdrum life was ending in success.
David was glad that the adventure on which he had embarked was
achieved with victory to his friend’s hopes. Roy was savagely pleased
over this discovery, which thus summarily put an end to Masters’
ambitions. Billy beheld with pride a final vindication of his
exactitude in ratiocination. Saxe was happy in the thought that here
was wealth to offer the one whom he loved. The subtly sweet flavor
of that happiness was in the knowledge that the way to it had been
pointed by her whom his friends had called his logical enemy. His
enemy--she, Margaret! His lips curved to a tender smile.
Roy promptly assumed control of the operations involved in the
disposal of the treasure. He had been a practical miner, was skilled
in ingenious devices for the moving of heavy weights. He appointed
David, who had had similar experiences, his chief helper. Billy
Walker seated himself as comfortably as he might on one of the
fragments cast up from the pit, and prepared to offer such comments
on future events as should suggest themselves to an orderly and
logical mind. Jake proposed breaking open the lock, and then loading
themselves with as much gold as they could carry, for transportation
to the launch. Roy refused acceptance of this simple method.
“It must weight about a thousand pounds,” he said. “It’s too heavy
for us to carry all the way to the shore alone. Bring that heaviest
cable from the launch, Jake, and the pulley-tackle that’s in the
locker. Do that first. Perhaps Dave and I may be able to rig the
pulley, and haul the chest up into the room above. Then, after you’ve
brought the rope, go in the launch, and get half-a-dozen men from
the Landing, to help. Bring along, too, four heavy poles. We’ll lash
those on, to serve as handles in carrying the chest to the launch.
Arrange for a lumber wagon at the Landing. Miss Thurston told me
there’s a bank at the nearest town--Hadley--about three miles from
the Landing. Eh?” Jake nodded assent. “The day’s young yet,” Roy
concluded. “We’ll land Abernethey’s gold in the bank before night.”
“Bank shets up at three o’clock,” the boatman objected.
“It’ll open again fast enough for what’s in this box,” Roy retorted.
“You hurry up that cable, Jake.”
“I’ll go with him,” David said. “It may need more than the cable
length for the business, it’s quite a stretch up that slope.” Roy
nodded assent, and the two hastened off.
During their absence, Roy, with the assistance of Saxe, busied
himself in arranging a smooth plane of stones in that end of the pit
nearer the ascent, in such fashion as to afford an easy slide for
the chest. Soon, the cable was brought, and, while the others devoted
themselves to the adjustment of this, Jake departed on his mission to
the Landing.
The workers in the tunnel found themselves confronted with serious
difficulty when it came to passing the rope underneath the chest. It
required the joint efforts of the four, though Billy Walker’s aid was
not contributed without expostulation against the uselessness of this
part of the labor. In the end, however, what by great exertion on the
part of each and by the employment of the pickaxes as levers and bits
of rock as supports, the task was achieved, and the rope was got in
position under the chest. The remainder of the business was simple
enough. In a short time, the box was firmly set within the hempen
bands, knotted with seamanlike smartness by Roy, and the main length
of the cable was free for adjustment to block and tackle. The extent
of it, to Roy’s relief, proved ample for the purpose, and forthwith
he and David carried the free end of it up the slope to the level of
the chamber, in quest of some projection of rock to which the hook of
the block might be made fast. Saxe and Billy remained below, beside
the treasure-chest.
Saxe lighted another cigarette, Billy had recourse to one of his
customary black cigars, and the two smoked contentedly in silence.
Saxe could hear indistinctly from time to time the movements of
Roy and David, busy on the level above. And then, presently, his
ears detected another sound. He listened--idly at first, soon with
growing interest, finally with intent curiosity, which swiftly became
excitement. The noise was faint, intermittent, yet persistent. In
his earlier attention to it, Saxe found difficulty in locating the
direction whence the sound issued, but, later on, he became sure
that it had its origin somewhere in the other passage, beyond the
barrier that divided the pit into two parts. The fact filled him with
amazement. He knew the whereabouts of all in his own party. He could
still hear Roy and David, active on the level above; Billy Walker was
there present with him by the pit; Jake, ere this, was on his way to
the Landing in the launch. It was impossible that the boatman should
have disobeyed instructions, to return into the other passage for
some mysterious purpose of his own. But, since all the members of
his party were thus accounted for, the explanation of that persistent
sound there beyond the barrier became more difficult. It was certain
that someone was occupied at the end of the other passage. Who,
then, could that person be? It could not be Margaret, the only other
who knew the entrance to the cavern. No, not the only other who
knew--there was Masters! On the instant, as the thought came, Saxe
knew that the enemy was again at work.
The reason baffled the listener. What could the man of treacherous
schemes be doing thus on the wrong side of the barrier? Saxe felt
the puzzle too hard for his solving, and turned to Billy Walker,
seeking the light of pure reason to clear away the mists of darkness
with which the event was shrouded. The sage was nodding in somnolent
relaxation, though still puffing his cigar.
“Wake up, Billy!” Saxe called, softly.
The dozing man straightened, and the small eyes opened on the
disturber in an indignant stare.
“I’m not asleep,” he remarked crossly, following the universal habit
of denial in such case.
“Well, then, listen,” Saxe requested. “Don’t you hear that
noise--like somebody pounding?”
The sage gave ear obediently. It was evident that, after a moment
of attention, he perceived the noise, for his expression brightened
to one of interest. His inference as to the significance of the
occurrence was not left long in doubt. He turned presently to Saxe,
with a wide grin on his heavy lips.
“Our nimble and indefatigable friend is at his old tricks again,” he
declared, in a whisper, without the least hesitation. “There remains
for our deduction the precise variety of this latest deviltry.”
Having thus delivered himself, the oracle closed his eyes, and, while
continuing to listen, scowled portentously in token of absorbed
ratiocination, which Saxe was at pains not to interrupt. It was
perhaps two minutes before Billy Walker spoke again. When he did so,
there was unaccustomed liveliness in the method of his delivery; he
displayed an agitation that first startled Saxe, then alarmed him.
“You said that Miss West mentioned another entrance to this cavern;
Masters has probably availed himself of that. He has spied on us,
and so has learned of our discovery of the treasure here. He has not
dared to attack the lot of us openly. Very likely, he believes it
will take us a considerable time to get out the chest. He may have
come near enough to hear Roy and Dave up there, and from the silence
between you and me he has supposed no one left here. He intends to
get a hole through the barrier there, then to have the chest open,
and to help himself to what he can while nobody’s looking. He may
expect to have the whole night to work in. Of course, there’s a
possibility he may mean just to get a loophole, and then pick us off
one by one. That’s not likely, but he’s capable of anything.”
“He’ll have something of a job to break through there,” Saxe objected.
“Oh, dynamite is a quick worker,” the sage vouchsafed.
“Dynamite!” Saxe repeated, aghast.
“Yes, dynamite,” Billy stated again, with emphasis. “We know that
he understands how to employ the explosive on occasion.” He stood
up, seized his lantern, and started at a half-trot up the ascent.
“Probably, he wouldn’t mind much if some of us got hurt.” He turned
his head to shout raucously over his shoulder at Saxe, who below
him stood staring in horrified amazement: “But he’ll be at a safe
distance, and--so’ll I.” He ran on, wheezing grievously. Yet once
again, he turned to roar toward his friend, in a voice of menace:
“Run, you blithering idiot--for your life!”
At that, the paralysis of astonishment fell from Saxe. He, in turn,
caught up his lantern, and set off racing up the slope. He had gone
scarcely a dozen steps when a report sounded behind him. It was
not loud--indeed, it was so faint and muffled that, for a moment,
Saxe doubted if, in truth, this could be the explosion prophesied
by Billy Walker. He halted and looked back. From his position, he
could see with sufficient clearness to the barrier. In the dim light,
he could distinguish no apparent change in the aspect. Then, of a
sudden, his eyes fell on a rush of waters near the floor at the end
of the passage. Now that the echoes of the detonation had passed,
he heard the hissing of their flow. Even as he stared, astounded,
vaguely terrified, though without understanding of the catastrophe,
the flood mounted visibly. In a flash of horror, Saxe realized the
peril darting upon him. He whirled with a great cry and fled from the
death that menaced. A swift glance over his shoulder as he reached
the level, showed the boiling element hard on his heels. He shouted
a second time, in futile warning to his friends. In the next moment,
the light of his lantern revealed Billy Walker, running at a good
pace just before him.
“Masters has let in the lake!” Saxe cried frantically in his friend’s
ear, as he came abreast.
There was no need of the telling. Even as he spoke, the first waves
lashed their feet. No time was given them to mend their speed.
Before they could do more than realize the coming of the flood, it
had reached to their waists, to their armpits. They had dropped the
drenched lanterns--they were swimming blindly on the rushing torrent.
But Billy, whose bulk kept him afloat easily, had put out a hand,
so that he held fast to Saxe’s collar. Thus, they were borne onward
together through the fearful blackness, tossed and torn by the coil
of waters. That contact of each with the other was their single
comfort.
Of a sudden, they felt themselves twisted violently to one side.
Then, for once, the majestic volume of Billy Walker’s voice served
his necessity. The words bellowed in Saxe’s ear came softly, as from
an infinite distance, yet clearly.
“There’s no turn like that--we’re in the chamber. Make to the
left--to the ledges, for your life! It’s our only chance.”
By mercy of fate, the eddy helped them on their course. But for that,
they could never have won through against the mighty urge of the
current. The eddy sent them far to the left, and they fought on with
all their strength, when the pull of it would have swung them back
toward the vortex. Then as he felt that he could strive no more, Saxe
felt his fingers touch on stone. While his hand rasped on the rock
for hold, his feet found footing. In the next moment, he realized as
never before the great strength of his companion. A violent thrust
upward fairly shot him clear of the water. Before he had time to help
himself, Billy was again at his side, was dragging him still higher
on the tumble of rocks.
“To the top!” boomed the sage. “It may be high enough, and it may
not. Anyhow, it’s the only chance.” And, presently, the two were on
the summit of the pile of stone. Below them, the writhing waters
clamored in rage. But the flood did not reach to them. Each second,
Saxe expected to feel the swirl of it about his feet, leaping to
engulf him; he was shuddering from dread of it. The quick horror of
the event bred cowardice. Then, yet once again, he heard the huge
voice of his friend.
“We’re safe--safe!”
But Saxe could not believe him.
“How do you know?” he shouted.
The sage had not heard the feebler tones through the din, but he
guessed the question.
“The water just reaches my foot. It has mounted no higher through a
full minute.”
“But it may yet.”
This time, Billy heard.
“Use your reason, the water at my foot marks the level of the lake.
It can rise no higher. Cheer up, my boy.”