FENN IS CAPTURED
For several seconds after he had observed the man's head disappear down
the hole in the ledge, Fenn waited. He wanted to see if the fellow had
gone for reinforcements, or had retreated. After a minute or two Fenn
decided that the man was as much frightened as he himself was.
"I'll take a look down that hole," he decided. "I'm not in very good
shape for visiting company," he went on, with a look at his clay-covered
clothes, "but I don't believe those chaps are very particular. I wonder
what I'm up against? This is a queer country, with holes in the ground
almost at every turn, leading to no one knows where."
He advanced toward the shaft, down which the man had vanished, and, as
he reached the edge, he saw that it contained a ladder.
The ladder was made of tree trunks, with the branches cut off about a
foot from where they joined on, leaving projections sticking up at a
slight angle, and making a good hold for the hands and feet.
"Well, I s'pose I'm foolish to do this all alone, and that I had better
go back to camp and get the boys," murmured Fenn, as he prepared to
descend. "But, if I do, the smugglers may escape, and I'll lose the
reward. There must be an opening at the bottom of this shaft that leads
right out on the lake shore. When the boats land the smuggled-in
Chinamen, they are probably taken up this shaft, then through the one I
slid down, and so into the woods, and from there they are spirited
wherever they want to go."
He looked into the shaft, and listened intently, but could hear no
sound. He was surprised to see that the opening, leading down to he
could only guess where, was dimly lighted, seemingly in a natural
manner. But his wonder at this ceased when, having gone down a little
way, he noticed that the walls of the shaft were pierced, in the
direction of the lake, with small openings, through which light came.
The shaft, he then saw, was either a natural one, or had been bored,
straight down the cliff, and at no great distance from the perpendicular
face of it. The sides seemed to be of soft rock, or hard clay, and the
tree-trunk ladders were fastened up against the walls by long wooden
stakes, driven in deeply. There were several tree trunks, one after
another, and from the smoothness of the jutting prongs it was evident
that they were often used.
Down Fenn climbed, stopping every now and then to peer through the
ventilating and light holes. He caught glimpses of the great lake, that
lay at the foot of the cliff, toward the bottom of which he was
descending in this strange manner.
"Queer I don't hear or see anything more of those men I was chasing,"
mused the boy as he paused a moment opposite one of the air holes to get
his breath. "I wonder what became of the two Chinese and the white chap?
Then there's that man who stuck his head up out of this hole. He looked
like a miner, for his hat was all covered with dirt. That reminds me,
where's my hat?"
Instinctively he looked about him, as though he would find it hanging on
one of the prongs of the tree-trunk ladder, which might answer as a hat
rack. Then he laughed at himself.
"I remember now," he said. "It flew off when I fell through that clump
of fern into the hole I thought led to China. Guess I'll have to make my
bow without my hat."
He glanced below him. It seemed as if he was at the last of the
ventilating openings for, further down, there were no glimmerings of
daylight, which was fast waning. Then, as he looked, he caught the
flickering of a torch, not far down. It waved to and fro, casting queer
shadows on the walls of the shaft, and then the person holding it seemed
coming up the ladder.
"Now there's going to be trouble," thought Fenn. "We can't pass on this
thing. Either he's got to wait until I get down, or I'll have to go all
the way back to the top. I wonder if I better yell to let him know I'm
here? No, that wouldn't be just the thing. I'll try to slip around
between the wall and the ladder, and, maybe, he'll pass me."
Fenn proceeded to put this rather risky plan into operation. Holding on
by both hands to one of the projecting branches he endeavored to swing
himself around. The man with the torch was coming nearer and nearer.
Suddenly Fenn's hold slipped. He tried to recover himself but without
avail. The next moment his hands lost their grip and he went plunging
down into the darkness below, faintly illuminated by the smoking torch.
Then he knew no more.
When Fenn came to his senses it was only with the utmost difficulty that
he could recall what had happened. He had a hazy recollection of having
been in some dark hole--then a light was seen--then he slipped--then
came blackness and then--
He tried to raise himself from where he lay, and a rustling told him he
was reclining on a bed of straw. By the light of a torch stuck in the
earthen wall of what seemed to be a cavern, Fenn could make out the
shadows of several men, grotesquely large and misshapen, moving about.
From the distance came a peculiar noise, as of machinery.
Fenn's brain cleared slowly, though from the ache in his head, he knew
he must have had quite a fall. He raised himself on his elbow, and
gradually came to a sitting position. He drew a long breath, and started
to get up.
As he did so, he felt some one place his hands on his chest, and push
him back, not rudely, but with enough firmness to indicate that he was
to lie down. Instinctively he struggled against what seemed to him a dim
shape in the half-darkness.
"Lie down," a man's voice commanded. "You'll be all right in a little
while. You had quite a fall."
"What's the matter? Where am I? Who are you?" asked Fenn.
"That's all right now, sonny," was the reply in such soothing tones, as
one sometimes uses toward a fretful child. "You're in safe hands."
"Has the kid woke up?" called a voice from the blackness beyond the
circle of light cast by the torches.
"Yes," answered the man who had made Fenn lie down.
Following the words there was a sudden increase in the illumination of
the cavern, and Fenn saw a big man approaching, carrying a torch. With
him were several others. One of them had a rope.
"Are you--are you going to make me a prisoner?" asked Fenn, his heart
sinking.
"That's what we are."
Just then another man flashed a torch in the boy's face. No sooner had
he done so than he called out:
"Great Scott! If it isn't the very kid I chased!"
Fenn glanced quickly up and saw, standing before him, the man with the
sinister face--the man who had pursued him at the elevator fire. Beside
him was a man with a peculiar cast in one eye, and Fenn knew he was the
fellow who had listened to the conversation of the chums in the railroad
car.