SOME FUN WITH THE YEARLINGS.
The reader of course knows that no cadets had been near the cave. But
that the Seven did not know; they thought that “the enemy” had left by
that entrance.
Texas clutched his fists suggestively. Texas had been looking forward
to a fight and some fun, and he was considerably aggravated at having
been thus cheated of his prey. However, there was nothing to do now
but draw in the stone and make the best of their way back to the main
cavern again.
Mark suggested that they go outside and let the learned Parson display
his skill by finding that bowlder again. Then, too, they might fix it
up so that no trespassers could enter in future.
They hurried back through the narrow passageway and were soon on the
very spot where that mysterious groan had scared them so. As to that
groan they never gave another thought, for they imagined that its
originators had fled.
They would have been very much altered in their opinion, however, if
they had only once looked behind them. Scarcely had they left the
passageway before the same wild-eyed, crouching figure stole across in
the shadow and disappeared.
It was that mysterious old man returning to his lonely cell.
With that stranger our story has at present nothing more to do. It is
necessary now that we follow the Banded Seven. For some two or three
minutes later the Seven were destined to find themselves involved in a
most delightful adventure indeed.
It was a very curious coincidence the plebes, as we know, were just
then on the warpath for some yearlings, fully persuaded that some
yearlings had had the temerity to enter their private cave and
actually try to scare its owners away. Well, the coincidence was that
at that very moment a party of yearlings was taking a walk through
those woods.
That was where the fun came in.
Our friend Texas had gotten a chair and climbed up preparatory to
squirming his way through the hole. He peered out just once and then
popped back, fairly gasping with excitement.
“Wow!” he whispered. “They’re there!”
“They!” echoed the rest in amazement. “Who?”
Texas answered, and then turned to stare again. It is needless to say
that the rest wanted to see as well as he, and that chairs and tables
were hastily dragged up. A minute later seven eager heads were peering
out through the bushes at the forest beyond. Sure enough, there were
some yearlings, and over a dozen of them at that.
Now our plebe friends were no fools. If they had been they would never
have had the fun they did. As we know, those yearlings knew nothing
whatever about the existence of the cave. The plebes thought
otherwise, but they speedily discovered their mistake.
In the first place Bull and his gang were the only ones who knew of
the cave, and they were not in the crowd. These yearlings were none of
them friendly to the Seven――all yearlings hated “Mallory’s gang.” But
theirs was not the malignant anger that Bull had chosen. In the second
place they were walking along, laughing and talking, as if nothing
were farther from their minds than the thought that the high cliff
which towered above them contained a dark and mysterious cave.
Mark turned suddenly and stared at his companions.
“Fellows,” he said, “do you know, I don’t believe those chaps know
anything about this place.”
“All the more reason for keeping it secret,” responded Texas; “that
is, ’less you want to go out an’ lick ’em. Hey?”
“Oo-oo!” gasped Indian. “I don’t want to fight.”
This scheme did not “take,” and so Texas subsided.
“I wish we could play some trick on ’em, b’gee!” chuckled Dewey.
Just at that moment one of the cadets chanced to shout out a word or
two to his companions. The next instant he turned and pointed straight
at the plebes.
The latter dodged down in trepidation, for they imagined they had been
seen. Their alarm was unfounded, however, as the bushes in front made
a perfect screen. The cause of the yearlings’ surprise was something
entirely different.
“Oh, say, did you hear that echo?” the seven listeners heard him call.
Our friends’ hearts began to beat once more at that, and they resumed
their watch. An echo was what the yearlings were noticing. It was but
natural, so the Parson whispered, that the cliff should return an echo
at certain distances.
Evidently this one was a very strong echo, for it was delighting the
yearlings considerably. Everybody knows how people amuse themselves
with an echo. The cadets were bawling all sorts of nonsense at the top
of their lungs.
Mark listened to the shouts and joining in the merriment of his
friends. But suddenly he started back with a perfect gasp of delight.
“What’s the matter?” cried the others.
By way of answer Mark turned and whispered:
“Not a sound now!” he cried. “Do you hear me? Gee whiz, what a joke!”
He raised himself upon his elbows and drew a long, deep breath; then
he waited.
One of the yearlings, a big, burly fellow named Rogers, was just at
that moment doing likewise, drawing his breath for a shout. He had
come a little closer to test the effect.
“Hello!” he roared, at the top of his lungs.
And a moment later Mark answered him:
“Hello-o-o!”
Rogers started back and gazed at his companions in amazement.
“Good heavens!” he cried. “Fellows, did you hear that?”
The other had heard it, of course. How could they help hearing it? And
they were simply dumfounded.
“Why, it’s a double echo!” cried one.
“And it sounded even louder than your voice!” added another. “What on
earth do you suppose it can be?”
Rogers didn’t know, but he hazarded a guess.
“It must have been where I was standing,” he said. “This is the place.
I’ll try it again.”
Then he took another deep breath, while the rest waited anxiously.
“Hello!” he roared.
There was not a sound. Mark kept as still as a mouse, though he and
his friends were ready to burst with laughter. The yearlings gazed at
each other in amazement.
“Jove, I missed it that time!” exclaimed Rogers. “I wonder what’s the
matter?”
“Perhaps you aren’t in just the same place,” suggested one sage
logician.
“That’s so,” admitted he. “I think I’ve stepped forward some.”
“No, I think you jumped back,” objected a third.
There was much learned discussion of this point. Finally they tried
both. There wasn’t a sound.
Of course they were puzzled. Who wouldn’t have been? They wandered all
about the clearing, roaring at the top of their lungs: “Hello! hello!
hello! hello!” But Mark only kept still and chuckled, until he saw
that they were about to give it up.
“Why don’t you answer?” shouted one.
“―――― you answer!” replied Mark, in just as loud a voice.
The yearlings sprang as one man to the spot where this lucky
individual had been.
“We’ve got it!” they cried, and a moment later a perfect chorus of
“Helloes!” and “How do ye does?” and “Whoops!” and so on, came to Mark
Mallory’s ears.
They were so many of them that Mark couldn’t attend to them all at
once, and had to call in the rest of the Seven to his aid. You may
readily believe that the yearlings were paid back with interest. Texas
even tacked on a few whoops for good measure.
The reader may imagine the hilarity of the mischievous plebes during
this. The upturned, open-mouthed faces of the unfortunate and
astonished victims were enough to make a sphinx laugh for a century.
At least, that was what the Parson said. The Seven were dancing about
and chuckling with glee. Mark had the greatest difficulty in keeping
them from breaking out into a chorus.
That seemed to be the next joke on tap. Mark whispered his
instructions, nudged the others in the ribs, and waited.
“Hello up there! Hello!” roared Rogers.
And the next instant came a sound louder than a trumpet blast and so
startling that it nearly knocked the big yearling over backwards.
“Hello up there! Hello-o-o!”
It was a confused medley of shouts and yells in one promiscuous
chorus. Assuredly no such echo has ever been heard in the history of
mankind. Irish hills and Swiss mountains would have given up in
despair before such a many-throated arrangement as that.
The yearlings gazed at each other in still greater consternation. They
did not know what to think at that stage of the game.
“Hello!” cried Rogers, boldly trying it once more.
And to his amazement there was not a sound.
“This is the most uncanny thing I ever heard of in my life,” he
whispered to his companions. “It almost makes me think of spirits.
Hello up there!”
This last was yet one more attempt. Its result was, if possible, still
more unexpected. The echo actually stuttered:
“Hello, up th-th-th-there!”
“Good Lord, what next?” gasped one of the yearlings.
“G-g-good Lord, wh-what n-n-next-t!” muttered the cliff.
But that time the matter had gone just a little too far. Human
credulity has its limits; you cannot fool all the people all the time
has crystallized into a proverb. And so just about then some of the
shrewder of the crowd began to get a little bit suspicious and to look
around, either for a hiding place for that mischievous echo-maker or
for a ventriloquist among their own party.
This Mark did not fail to observe. He turned to his companions.
“See here,” he whispered. “Fellows, they’ll soon be on to this.”
“Do you know,” he continued, “there’s no use in our trying to keep
this cave a secret, anyhow. Bull knows of it and he’ll be sure to tell
’em in the end. I say we have some more fun now.”
“Yes!” cried Texas. “I say so, too, whoop! Doggone their boots! Let’s
climb out an’ go for ’em. I’m jest itching for a rousin’ ole scrap!”
Mark smiled at his wild chum’s excitement.
“Let’s keep on with this echo for a while,” said he, “until we work
that out. Then perhaps we’ll show ourselves.”
“Or send them out our cards, b’gee,” chuckled Dewey. “Come ahead.”
During this the yearlings had been holding a consultation. They were
gathered together in a group, whispering about the mystery, and
occasionally staring at the trees around them and at the top of the
cliff far above. It is needless to say that they saw nothing
suspicious. Finally they turned to test the echo some more.
“Hello!” cried Rogers.
“Hello” (a whisper).
“Say, you fellows, whoever you are, I wish you’d come out and quit
your fooling!”
That was from Rogers. And right then came the climax. The echo started
to repeat that sentence.
“Say, you fellows, whoever you are――――”
And there it stopped――stuck! It had forgotten the rest of what it was
to say. The yearlings stared at each other, and finally began to
laugh. An echo that forgot was indeed a strange variety.
Suddenly it spoke again.
“Hello, there! Will you kindly repeat that last remark of yours. I
couldn’t keep it all in my mind.”
And this was followed by a perfect roar of laughter from somewhere; it
seemed fairly to shake the hillside. The yearlings realized how they
had been duped, and you can just guess that they were mad!