CARL GETS INTO TROUBLE.
The sun shone warm on the planes of the _Louise_ as Jimmie and Carl
sailed over the broken country to the west of the camp. They passed a
ridge so high that the timber line broke a couple of hundred feet below
the summit, and then dropped, shivering, into a depression wider but not
so green as the one in which their tents stood.
The boys were taking their time, and, in the low altitude of the valley,
conversation was possible as they moved along, looking to right and left
for some sign of a camp.
“The Englishman’s friends ought not to be much farther away,” suggested
Carl, after an hour. “We are at least fifteen miles from our tents
already.”
“Yes,” agreed Jimmie, “the ridge we crossed takes up a good deal of
room. If they are not in this wrinkle, they may be in the next one.”
“Wrinkle is exactly the word,” Carl grinned. “This country looks as if
some one had taken a level plain and crowded it together until the
surface broke into seams and crags. It makes me think of the undulating
surface of an old boot!”
The boys traversed the valley from north to south but saw no indications
of tents or camp-fires. The ridge to the west ran out at the north end
of the valley, and the boys turned there, preferring not to ascend into
the cold air again unless it became necessary.
The valley in which they now found themselves ran in a northeasterly
direction and broke into a canyon at the end farthest to the east and
north. The boys turned as they swung around the point of rock and
whirled along the new depression. Presently Carl caught his chum by the
arm and handed him the field-glass with which he had been looking over
the country. Jimmie used the glass for a moment and then turned back to
Carl with a pleased look on his freckled face.
“You know what that is, don’t you?” he asked.
“Sure!” Carl answered.
“That’s the north end of our own valley, we see,” Jimmie went on, “and
the shelf we have just come in sight of is the one from which the red
and green signals were shown night before last.”
“That’s right!” grinned Carl.
“Then, don’t you see,” Jimmie went on, “the signals were made for the
benefit of some one in this valley.”
“That’s the idea!” Carl chuckled.
“Now, suppose we find the tent the Englishman left in this vicinity,”
the boy went on, “what would that mean?”
“It would suggest to me,” Carl replied, “that the signals were made for
the benefit of some one in that camp.”
“Right-o!” replied Jimmie.
“But where is this blooming camp?” Carl asked.
“We’ll find it here somewhere!” Jimmie answered, confidently.
Directly the boys came to a canyon which opened at the west of the
valley and led to a grassy plateau higher up. At some distant time the
place now occupied by the plateau had doubtless been an enlargement and
extension of the canyon. However, as the years passed, the rocks had
crumbled under the action of water until the great dent had become
filled.
One look to the left as the boys moved slowly past the mouth of the
canyon was sufficient. A fire was blazing high in the center of the
plateau and half a dozen tents were scattered about. On every side the
walls of rock came down to the green grass which lay like a carpet over
the floor of the plateau.
Here and there the boys saw dark openings in the walls, similar to the
one they had observed at the smugglers’ camp.
“Those old rocks,” Jimmie commented, “are honeycombed with caves, and
it’s a hundred to one that those hunters are obliged to keep things
moving nights in order to drive away wild animals.”
“From all accounts,” Carl agreed, “wild animals don’t stand much show
with that bunch!”
“Of course, they’ve seen us,” Jimmie observed as the aeroplane shot by
the canyon and the tents were no longer in sight. “If they’re not asleep
they know we’re here. Now, what’s the best thing to do?”
“Walk right along just like we never noticed them!” replied Carl.
“Perhaps,” Jimmie suggested, “they’re looking for an aeroplane to put in
an appearance.”
“Do you mean to say that they knew something of the machine that was
wrecked over to the south last night?”
“That’s what!” replied Jimmie.
“I don’t believe it!” Carl answered. “That supposition connects the San
Francisco hunters with the Kuro gang, and I can’t believe that to be a
fact!”
“How far do you suppose that canyon is from our camp?” asked Jimmie.
“Probably twenty miles!” suggested Carl.
“That’s a good guess,” Jimmie agreed. “Now, look here,” he went on, “if
you think I’m going back to camp and leave the machine and then hike
twenty miles to investigate that camp, you’ve got another think coming!”
“That’s what you promised to do!”
“Not on your life!” replied Jimmie. “That’s what Havens told me to do!
But then, you know,” he added with a laugh, “Havens had no idea at the
time he gave the advice that we’d find the camp so far away. He probably
thought we’d run across it within easy walking distance of our own
tents. Isn’t that the way you look at it?”
“Sure!” replied Carl, glad of any excuse for landing.
“Then, I’ll tell you what we’ll do!” Jimmie argued. “We’ll fly straight
over the ridge under which the camp nestles, slow down gradually, so our
motors will sound like they were getting farther away every moment, and
then land. We ought to be able to climb back to the top of the ridge in
a few minutes and look down into the camp.”
“Aw, what’s the good of just looking down into it?” demanded Carl. “We
ought to get near enough so we can see and hear what’s going on!”
“I don’t care how near we get to it!” grinned Jimmie.
The plan suggested by the boy, reckless as it was, was carried out. The
_Louise_ found a resting-place to the west of the ridge and the boys sat
down to consider future movements.
“Honest, now,” Jimmie said, looking up at the fairly easy slope which
led to the summit lying between the aeroplane and the camp, “one of us
ought to stay by the machine!”
“All right!” Carl agreed. “You remain here and I’ll hike down and see
what I can find out. But, look here,” the lad continued, “you mustn’t go
prowling around! You mustn’t leave the machine! I may come back on the
jump, and want to get into the air in about a quarter of a second!”
“Huh!” grinned Jimmie. “You went off and left the machine when you were
on guard near the smugglers’ camp. I wouldn’t talk about prowling
around, if I were you!”
“This is different!” urged Carl. “When I left the machine then I didn’t
know that there were a lot of mountain brigands ready to grab it.”
“All right!” Jimmie acquiesced. “I’ll stay here by the machine for an
hour. If you don’t come back by that time, I’ll come after you.”
“Yes, you’ll come after me!” cried Carl. “You’d better stay where you
are! How would you know where to look for me in that mess over on the
other side?”
“If you don’t come back in an hour,” repeated Jimmie, “I’ll come after
you! In an hour it will be time to leave for home.”
Carl went away up the slope, climbing swiftly, and soon disappeared from
view. Jimmie threw himself down on the ground close to the framework of
the _Louise_, in a measure protected from view by the planes.
“Gee!” mused the boy. “It’s lonesome, waiting like this. Next time we go
out on a scouting expedition, we’ll bring some one along to stand guard.
This waiting makes me tired.”
But the period of waiting was destined to be a short one. Hardly had
Carl disappeared over the summit of the ridge when three figures
appeared there, sharply outlined against the sky. Jimmie crawled closer
under the planes and lay perfectly still for some moments.
He saw the men pointing toward the aeroplane, heard them shouting to
some one on the other side. Then they came on down the slope,
half-running, half-sliding in their haste.
“Now, that’s a nice thing!” the boy mused. “They are probably wise to
what we were up to, and stood ready to make a run as soon as we landed.
I wish I knew whether Carl butted into them or whether he got away.”
All doubt regarding the matter was settled the next moment, for Carl
appeared on the summit, accompanied by three husky-looking men. The men
beckoned to Jimmie and called out to those who were running down the
slope. It was clear that they were inviting him to remain where he was
until the others came up.
Jimmie could not see the face of his chum, of course, the distance being
too great. In fact, he only knew that it was Carl because of his being
smaller than the others. He could, however, distinguish motions made by
the boy, and these motions commanded him, as plainly as words could have
done, to get the _Louise_ away before the arrival of the men who were
descending the slope.
Unwilling to leave his chum without knowing more of the situation,
Jimmie hesitated. As he did so, he saw Carl drawn violently over the
ridge. The last movement he saw was made by the boy’s outstretched arms,
commanding him to take the _Louise_ into the air as soon as possible!
He hesitated no longer but sprang to the seat and set the motors in
motion. The machine lifted clumsily, for the landing had not been a
smooth one, but finally got her into the air, not more than a score of
feet distant from the men who were rushing down upon her.
The boy anticipated a serious time in getting away, but, although the
men below flourished revolvers threateningly, no bullets were fired. He
brought the machine around to the east in a moment and swept over the
heads of the men below. The group remained at the summit as he passed
over, swinging down over the camp.
There was naturally great excitement below, and the boy would have
enjoyed the situation immensely if he had been sure of the safety of his
chum. The occupants of the camp rushed out of their tents and threw
their hands and voices into the air as he moved along, only a few yards
above their heads. Again weapons were displayed but no shots came.
The boy circled the camp twice, but was unable to catch sight of Carl.
Realizing that the boy had undoubtedly been taken to one of the tents,
he turned the machine down the gorge to the valley and swept straight on
toward the shelf of rock from which the red and green signals had been
shown on the first night of their arrival in that vicinity.
By keeping to this route he was not obliged to ascend to the summit in
order to leave the valley where the hunters’ camp was situated. When he
came closer to the shelf of rock where the signal fire had burned, he
saw three men standing in plain view.
“I reckon the whole population of British Columbia is centering in these
hills,” the boy mused. “There must have been a dozen or more people in
the hunters’ camp when I passed over it not long ago, and now here’s
three more probably belonging to the same crowd.”
When the boy came within a few paces of the rock he whirled away to the
south, not caring to seek a landing on the other side of the snowy
ridge. As the machine lifted he saw two more men in the gorge or canyon
which led from the summit down to the shelf.
“If the men who abducted Colleton and brought him into this country
sought a location filled with peace and solitude, they will probably get
out of it at the earliest moment,” Jimmie mused.
As the boy turned on full speed in the direction of his camp he caught
sight of an object which caused him to hesitate and then set out in a
circling tour of the valley.
What he saw was the plane of a flying machine lifting above the top of
the ridge to the east.