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 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
person leaving one machine and taking a position on another while
in the air! It is an unheard-of thing.”
“Well, it’s been done once!” declared Jimmie. “And it may be done
again. And now, if you’ve got all the kinks out of your system,
perhaps you’d better help me take Mr. Havens into one of the tents.”
“I can’t lift a pound!” declared Carl. “I thought for a second that
Jimmie had been obliged to let go of the rope and drop!”
Ben and Jimmie lifted the millionaire aviator, now almost
unconscious, and carried him into one of the shelter-tents. His face
was very pale and his breathing was uncertain.
“I don’t see what’s the matter with him,” Jimmie exclaimed after
examining the man’s head and breast. “There is no wound here that
I can find!”
Then Ben pointed to the aviator’s feet.
“Strange we didn’t notice those before!” he said.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Jimmie with a shudder. “Have his
feet been cut off?”
The aviator wore no shoes, and his feet were closely wrapped in
bandages which had evidently been made from one of the blankets
carried in the store-box of the Ann. The bandages were stiff with
congealed blood.
Ben began to remove the cords which held the bandages in place,
but Jimmie motioned him away.
“We’ll have to get hot water before we can get those off!” the boy
said. “We’ll need plenty of hot water, anyway, so you’d better go and
tell Carl to put on the big kettle.”
While Ben was gone, Mr. Havens opened his eyes. He glanced
around the tent and smiled when his eyes encountered those of his
companions.
“Did I fall?” he asked faintly.
“I should say not!” was the reply. “I guess if you’d had a tumble
out of the air, you wouldn’t be lying here in this tent, able to talk,
would you? You’d be all smashed up on the rocks!”
“I felt myself falling!” insisted the aviator.
“That was after the machine landed,” Jimmie explained.
 “Did some one get into the seat with me?” the voice went on
weakly.
“Why, sure!” replied Jimmie. “I dropped over into the seat and we
came down together. Don’t you remember that?”
“I do not!” smiled the aviator.
“We saw something was the matter with you,” Jimmie went on,
“and so Carl and I went up to see what caused the Ann to reel along
like a drunken sailor. We got there just in time!”
“I was weak from loss of blood,” replied Mr. Havens. “I camped
last night in a valley occupied by hosts of yellow-haired porcupines.”
“I’ve heard of ’em,” Jimmie grinned.
“In the night,” the injured man went on, “I got out of my sleeping
bag to mend the fire and stepped on a whole host of the fellows,
cutting my feet into ribbons, almost.”
“Wouldn’t they get out of the way?” asked the boy.
“They never get out of the way!” was the answer. “Instead, they
will walk in a man’s path, like a pet kitten, and refuse to turn aside.”
“Did you get the quills all out of your feet?”
“I don’t know whether I did or not. They bled terribly, and I am
now in great pain with them. You boys will have to find out about
that later on! I’m too tired now to talk.”
Ben now brought a kettle of blood-warm water while Carl
appeared with a cup of strong coffee. After the aviator had
swallowed the coffee, the bandages were removed and his feet
carefully examined. There were many quills still in the flesh, they
having worked in instead of out, as is usual in such cases. These had
caused the bleeding to continue, and this in a measure accounted
for Mr. Havens’ weakened condition.
By midnight the aviator was able to sit up and listen to the story
of the two visitors.
“I quite agree with you,” he said, after Ben had concluded the
recital, “there is no doubt in my mind that the men are simply
mountain bums. And I’m afraid that we’ll have trouble with them in
future. These machines must be guarded night and day!”
“How long are we going to stay in this blooming old valley?” asked
Jimmie. “I’d rather be sailing over the mountains!”
 “You can go sailing over the mountains to-night if you want to,”
Carl chuckled, pointing, “there seems to be a beacon fire waiting for
you!”
 CHAPTER IV.

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF COLLETON.

“I’m glad the fellows took the trouble of building a fire of their
own instead of wanting to lounge around ours all night,” Jimmie
observed, as the boys looked at the leaping flames toward the north
end of the slope. “I should think they’d freeze up there!”
“I hope they do!” cried Carl.
“I wish we had some way of finding out what they are doing
here,” Ben said. “They don’t look like mountain men to me.”
“There are probably a great many such characters in the
mountains,” Mr. Havens explained. “Perhaps they’ll let us alone if we
let them alone.”
“Is there any chance of their being here to interfere with our
work?” asked Carl. “It really seems that way to me.”
“I don’t think so,” the millionaire aviator replied.
“What did you learn at Denver?” asked Ben. “Was there any
indication in the messages received from Washington that the mail-
order frauds were turning their attention to the west?”
“Not a word!” replied Mr. Havens. “We have a clear field here, and
all we’ve got to do is to locate this Larry Colleton. I shall probably be
laid up with sore feet for a number of days, but that won’t prevent
you boys flying over the country in the machines looking for camps.”
“Huh!” grinned Jimmie. “They won’t keep Colleton in no camp!
They’ll keep him in some damp old hole in the ground.”
“I presume that’s right, too,” Mr. Havens replied. “But you boys
mustn’t look for camps entirely. Whenever you see people moving
about, it’s up to you to investigate, find out who they are and where
they are stopping. You’ll find that all this will keep you busy.”
“We’re likely to be kept busy if there are a lot of tramps in the
hills!” Ben answered, “for the reason that it may take two or three
days to chase down each party we discover.”
“I haven’t told you much about the case yet,” Mr. Havens
continued, “and I may as well do so now. About six months ago,
letters began coming to the post-office department at Washington
complaining that a certain patent medicine concern which was
advertising an alleged remedy, Kuro, was defrauding its customers
by sending about one cent’s worth of quinine and water in return for
two dollars in money.”
“Keen, level-headed business men!” exclaimed Jimmie.
“Larry Colleton, one of the best inspectors in the department, was
given the case. For a long time, after the investigation began, this
Kuro company manufactured a remedy which really worked some of
the cures described in the advertising. This was expensive, however,
and at times the shipments fell back to the one-cent bottle of
quinine water.”
“More thrift!” laughed Ben.
“Another fraud-charge was that the Kuro company often failed to
make any shipment whatever in return for money received. Colleton
bought hundreds of bottles of their remedy, but the difficult point
was to establish the fact that the company was not at the time of
the investigation manufacturing the honest medicine. The officers of
the company claimed that they were perfecting their medicine every
day, and admitted that some of the bottles sent out at first were not
what they should have been.”
“Why didn’t he pinch the whole bunch?” demanded Jimmie.
“He did!” answered Mr. Havens. “But time after time they escaped
punishment by being discharged on examination by United States
district court commissioners, or by having their cases flatly turned
down by men employed in the laboratories at Washington.”
Mr. Havens was about to continue when Ben motioned him to look
in the direction of the blaze, still showing on a shelf of the slope to
the north. The fire was burning green.
 “What does that mean?” the boy asked.
“It means that they are talking to some person on the other side
of the valley or in the valley,” Mr. Havens answered. “It struck me,
when the fire was first pointed out, that no man in his right mind
would be apt to set up a camp in that exposed position.”
“Just before I called your attention to the fire,” Ben remarked, “it
was showing red. There, you see,” he added, in a moment, “it is
turning red right now! Of course the lights mean something to some
one.”
“That busts your theory about the fellows being mountain
tramps!” exclaimed Jimmie. “Such wouldn’t be carrying red and
green fire and rifles with Maxim silencers!”
“They may be mounted policemen after all!” suggested Mr.
Havens.
“Not on your whiskers!” exclaimed Carl. “Do you think mounted
policemen wouldn’t know how to skin a bear, or know how to broil a
bear steak? You just bet your life these fellows know more about
riding on the elevated or in the subway than they do about traveling
on horseback!”
“Well,” Mr. Havens went on, “one of you boys watch the lights and
the others listen to the story of how the crooks got Colleton. It may
be necessary in the future that you should know exactly how the
trick was turned. After a long investigation, and after bribing several
men in the factory where the alleged remedy was manufactured, Mr.
Colleton secured the exact formula in use during the current week.
He also secured a long list of names of persons to whom the bogus
remedy manufactured that week had been shipped.”
“Then, why didn’t he drop down on the concern?” asked Carl.
“He did!” was the answer. “He arrested the officers of the
company and subpœnaed scores of witnesses. He also secured proof
that men in the employ of the government had been bribed by the
Kuro concern to retard the work of the inspector and to assist in the
destruction of any proof submitted to the commissioner by him.”
“Why didn’t you say that before?” asked Jimmie. “If you’d just said
that Colleton was fighting the department at Washington as well as
the patent medicine concern, we would have understood what kind
of a case we were getting into.”
“Well, you know it now!” laughed Mr. Havens. “At last,” he
continued, “Colleton had his case ready for the grand jury, the
district commissioner having placed the respondents under heavy
bail to await such action.”
“And what happened then?” asked Carl.
“He lost his proof and he lost himself,” smiled the aviator. “Colleton
expected a long fight before the grand jury, a fight in the district
court, a fight in the circuit court, a fight in the court of appeals, and
a final fight before the United States Supreme court, for he knew
that the Kuro people had plenty of money and the kind of influence
which counts in an emergency.”
“And then what happened?”
“Colleton knew that he had a legal fight on his hands, but he
never suspected that he had a personal fight. One day he
disappeared from his office in the post-office department at
Washington, and his proof disappeared with him. He has never been
seen by his friends since that day.”
“And now we’ve got to find him!” exclaimed Jimmie.
“That’s what we’ve got to do!” echoed Carl.
“But, I don’t understand how they got him out of his own room,
and got his proof out of the building without attracting attention!”
Ben suggested. “They must have had several operatives at work.”
“They certainly did!” was the reply. “Colleton was sitting in his
office at three:fifteen one Monday afternoon. The safe in which his
papers were kept was locked. The desk in which his memoranda
were stored was also locked. When last seen sitting at his desk, he
was making memoranda concerning a case not at all connected with
the Kuro matter. These papers were not taken.”
“That was bad editing!” Ben laughed. “They should have taken all
the papers in sight in order not to disclose the real object of the
robbery. The rascals slipped a cog there!”
“The first error in the whole case,” Mr. Havens went on. “Only for
the fact that Kuro papers were taken exclusively, it might have been
claimed that the respondents in some of the other criminal cases
being handled by Colleton had committed the outrage.”
“Where did Colleton go when he left his office?” asked Ben.
“That’s exactly what we don’t know.”
“Who saw him leave his office?”
“No one.”
“Well, then, who saw any one enter his office?”
“No one.”
“Well,” laughed Ben, “how could Colleton get out of his office
without being seen? Perhaps he went out unobserved and took the
proof with him! You haven’t said whether the safe and desk were
opened.”
“They were opened,” was the reply, “by some one knowing the
combination to the safe, and some one having a key to the desk. All
the proof collected by Colleton disappeared that day.”
“And the patent medicine men finally got up to his price!” grinned
Jimmie. “I guess it’s the old story!”
“That’s what makes it so provoking,” said Mr. Havens, impatiently.
“A good many people in Washington are saying the same thing. It is
unjust to the inspector and very annoying to his friends.”
“And no one went into his office that afternoon?” asked Carl.
“Not that we know of.”
“And no one went near his office door?” asked Jimmie.
“I didn’t say that!” replied Mr. Havens. “His office door opens on a
wide corridor, at that time being used as desk space by an overflow
of clerks. At three:ten that afternoon two men stopped at Colleton’s
door, but did not enter.”
“How do you know they didn’t enter?” Carl broke in.
“No one saw them enter or come out. No one heard the door
open or close. One of the men, a heavily-built, bearded fellow,
seemed to be urging the other to enter Colleton’s room. The man
who was being urged was younger, thinner, and appeared to be
greatly excited.”
“Were they the only men seen at that door about that time?”
asked Ben.
“So it is said,” was the reply.
 “And Colleton was at his desk just before the men were seen at
his door?” asked Jimmie.
“Five minutes before!”
“And the person who entered his room after the two men
departed found it vacant?”
“That’s the idea exactly!”
“Did you say the young thin man was excited?”
“Perhaps excited is not the correct word,” was Mr. Havens’ reply.
“He seemed to be dazed with fear. The clerk sitting near the door
received the idea that the man had nerved himself up to the point of
confessing a crime or a dereliction of duty, and had lost his courage
when he reached the door of the inspector’s room.”
“Did this young man look like Colleton?” asked Ben.
“Not at all. Colleton wore a light moustache only. This man wore a
full beard. Colleton’s eyes are bright, snappy, far-seeing. This man’s
eyes looked dull and lifeless under the glasses he wore. Colleton is
straight, alert, confident. This man dragged his feet as he walked
and his shoulders hunched together.”
“Where did the two men go after they left Colleton’s door?” asked
Ben. “Did no one watch them?”
“No further attention was paid to them.”
“Would any of the clerks in the corridor know the big fellow
again?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think they paid enough attention to know
whether his eyes were blue or black or brown.”
“Then they didn’t notice the other fellow very particularly, did
they?”
“No, in fact, except for his dazed and dejected manner and his
odd dress they probably wouldn’t have noticed the young man
particularly. But why are you asking these questions,” Mr. Havens
answered with a laugh. “Are you boys going to solve, off-hand, a
mystery over which Washington detectives have been puzzling for
many weeks?”
“No,” Ben answered, “but I know when Colleton left his room.”
 CHAPTER V.

A MIDNIGHT FLIGHT.

“Then you know more about the case than the detectives at
Washington!” smiled Mr. Havens. “When do you think he left his
room?”
“I don’t think, I know!”
“Well, get it out of your system!” exclaimed Jimmie.
“He left his room,” Ben chuckled, “about one second before those
two men appeared in the corridor outside his door!”
“I suppose you happened to be coming out of another office, just
across the corridor, and happened to see him coming out, didn’t
you?” jeered Carl. “You always were the wise little boy!”
“Now, look here,” Ben said, more seriously, “me for the Brainy
Bowers act in this little play. In time the truth of the matter will be
known, and when that time comes you just remember your Uncle
Dudley’s forecast.”
“You haven’t made any forecast yet!”
“I’ll make a guess then,” Ben answered. “I’ll just call it a guess. I’ll
guess that Colleton came out of his room with the big man, and that
he was doped stiff, and that he had the proofs in his inside pocket,
and that the big man got him away under the eyes of a dozen
clerks, and probably passed a score of detectives before he got out
of the building.”
“But look here,” Mr. Havens began.
“Please, Mr. Havens,” Jimmie broke in, “don’t wake him up. Let
him go on dreaming! He’ll feel all the better for it in the morning!”
 “I don’t care what you say!” Ben argued. “The big man took
Colleton out of his room. If you want to know whom to look for in
this case, just you look for the big man. And if you want to get a
sure case against him, find some one of the clerks who can identify
him as the man who stood at Colleton’s door that afternoon.”
“I half believe you are right!” Havens declared.
“It listens good to me,” Jimmie agreed.
“I want to withdraw everything I said against the theory,” Carl cut
in.
“Look here!” Ben said rather excitedly. “Those fellows who claimed
to be mounted policemen are both big men, and they both wear full
beards. Now it seems to me that the man who took Colleton out of
his office would be the man to keep him under duress until the
excitement of the case dies down.”
“For the love of Mike!” Jimmie exclaimed. “Don’t go to
materializing the man with the alfalfa on his face right here in the
mountains.”
“That’s the man we’re looking for,” suggested Ben.
“Well, let’s don’t find him until we’ve had a little more fun flying
over British Columbia!”
“Say, Mr. Havens,” Ben proposed. “You ought to send word to
Washington to have one or two of the most intelligent of those
clerks sent out here. When we get the man with the full beard we’ll
want some one to tell us whether we’re right or not.”
“I’ll do that the first time I reach a telegraph office,” the aviator
replied. “That ought to have been thought of long ago.”
“It strikes me that you won’t get to a telegraph office very soon!”
laughed Jimmie. “You’ll have a mess of feet that look like bread
dough by morning! Those porcupine quills often poison as well as
wound.”
“Well, you boys can send the message then,” returned Mr. Havens.
“And you can watch camp!” laughed Carl.
“I’m afraid that’s what I’ll have to do.”
“What has been done with the case against the Kuro company?”
Ben asked after a short silence.
 “Still pending in the courts. Of course, the government can’t
proceed to trial in the absence of inspector Colleton.”
“Then if Colleton should be murdered, the case might never be
tried?”
“It certainly never would be tried!”
“Then we’ve got to get a move on!” cried Jimmie. “If these fellows
know that special effort is being made to locate him, they won’t take
any chances. The nearer we get to Colleton, the nearer he will be to
his death. At least that’s the way I look at it.”
“That’s the way it looks to me, too,” Ben agreed.
Carl now caught Jimmie by the arm and pointed to the fire
burning on the mountain to the north.
“It burns green now,” he said.
While they looked the flame turned red again.
“I wouldn’t mind going over there to-night!” Jimmie declared.
“Then let’s go,” advised Carl.
“Huh! I didn’t say anything about your going!”
“You know very well you always have to have me with you,” Carl
chuckled. “You get into trouble when you go alone.”
“Here,” Ben called from the tent where Mr. Havens lay, “what are
you boys planning now? No one leaves the camp to-night,
understand!”
“Of course not,” grinned Jimmie.
“I should say not!” echoed Carl.
“Now, this is on the level,” Ben argued. “If you boys are planning
anything for to-night, you want to quit it, right now! If those fellows
around that other fire are watching us, you couldn’t do a thing that
would please them more than to wander off in the darkness.”
“Who said anything about wandering off in the darkness?”
demanded Jimmie. “You’re always seeing things that are not
present.”
“Anyway,” Carl said with a yawn, “it’s time we were all in bed!”
“I’ll watch to-night,” Ben proposed, with a significant glance in the
direction of the aviator.
“And look here,” Jimmie suggested, “suppose you keep a record of
the changes of color over on the mountain. I believe those people
are saying something with those green and red lights!”
“All right,” Ben replied, “I’ll do that.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll sleep very much to-night, anyway,” Mr. Havens
said, after a pause, “so you may as well go to bed, every one of you,
and I’ll wake you if anything unusual occurs.”
“I think I’d better keep awake,” Ben insisted.
Jimmie and Carl stepped to one side, ostensibly in search of dry
pine for use during the night, but really to discuss this unexpected
opposition to the excursion they had planned.
“We can’t go if they make such a noise about it!” Carl complained.
“Sure we can!” returned Jimmie.
“I don’t know how!” Carl grumbled.
“I can fix up a scheme to get away in the machine with the advice
and consent of the multitude,” laughed the other.
“In your mind!” returned Carl.
“Watch me!” advised Jimmie.
The boys went back to the camp-fire and stood for some moments
watching the changing lights on the mountain.
“I’d like to know if some one is really talking back to that fellow,”
Jimmie said, turning to Mr. Havens.
“I presume some one is answering the signals,” the millionaire
answered, “only we can’t see the answers given.”
“Perhaps we could learn what they’re saying if we could see the
answers. They may be talking in a code we could get next to.”
“Well, you don’t see anything that looks like a return signal, do
you?” asked Ben. “They’ll take good care that we don’t see both
ends of the conversation.”
“Look here,” proposed Jimmie, “why don’t we send Ben up in a
machine to look over the landscape. The return signals may come
from some point not to be seen from this end of the valley.”
“That’s the idea!” exclaimed Carl, understanding in a minute why
his chum had suggested that Ben make the midnight flight.
“Not for me!” answered Ben. “I don’t care about going up into the
sky refrigerator this time of night!”
“Then you go, Carl,” Jimmie said turning to the other.
“Not so you could notice it!” Carl declared.
 “All right!” Jimmie said with an injured air. “I made one exhausting
flight to-night and I suppose I could make another. We certainly
ought to know whether those people are signaling to others in the
mountains. Don’t you think so, Mr. Havens?” he added turning to the
millionaire.
“It would enable us to understand the situation better,” was the
reply.
“Then I’ll go,” Jimmie said, putting on an unwilling manner. “I’ll go
up far enough to see what’s doing and come right back. While I’m
gone you fellows get up a supper. It’s most daylight and we haven’t
had anything to eat since last night.”
“You had only two suppers last night!” Ben laughed.
“I don’t care if I had nine,” Jimmie answered, “I’m hungry just the
same, and when I come back from my little trip, I’ll be about
famished!”
“I guess I’ll go with you,” suggested Carl.
“No, you don’t,” declared Jimmie, with a sly wink. “You wouldn’t
go when I wanted you to, and now you can’t go with me!”
“Do you think they ought to go, Mr. Havens?” asked Ben.
“If they can go without getting into any scrape, yes!”
“But they’ll be sure to get into trouble,” Ben complained.
“Trouble yourself!” cried Jimmie. “I guess we can swing around
this little old valley without it being necessary for you to send out a
relief expedition! You act like I never saw a flying machine before!”
“Perhaps they’ll be good to-night,” Mr. Havens laughed.
The millionaire saw how set the boys were on taking the trip in
the aeroplane. He rather suspected that Jimmie had mapped out the
exact course to be pursued in getting permission, and laughed at the
tact displayed by the little fellow. He remembered, however, the
great risk the boy had taken in order to be of service to him that
very night, and so decided in his favor.
“Do I go?” demanded Carl.
“Well, come along if you want to,” Jimmie answered, with
apparent reluctance. “If you break your neck, don’t blame me!”
The boys passed out of the circle of light about the fire and drew
the Louise out to level ground. Jimmie could hear his chum
chuckling softly as they pushed and pulled together.
“Didn’t I tell you I could fix it up all right?” the boy asked.
“You’re the foxy little kid!” exclaimed Carl. “What are we going to
do when we get up in the air?” he continued.
“We’re going to circle the valley,” Jimmie answered, “and see if we
can catch sight of another camp-fire. Then we’re going to climb up
until we can look over the ridges in this vicinity. If there is a
collection of mail-order pirates anywhere in this country we want to
know it to-night.”
“Then we want to put on lots of warm clothing,” Carl suggested,
“and take automatics and searchlights with us.”
“Of course!” answered Jimmie. “We want to go prepared for zero
weather. It’s always cold up on the top of the Continental Divide!”
“And that’s all you’re going to do?” asked Carl. “Just fly around the
camp and locate the other camp-fires and then go to bed?”
“Well, of course,” Jimmie said hesitatingly, “if we find a camp that
looks in any way suspicious, we ought to investigate it a little. We
can’t get very close with the motors, you know, without attracting a
whole lot of attention, so we may have to land and sneak up to find
out what’s going on. We can’t learn much by sailing a thousand feet
over a camp!”
“That’s just what I thought!” laughed Carl. “Just as quick as you
get away in a machine you want to take a lot of risks that no one
else would think of taking.”
Jimmie’s only reply was a confident chuckle, and the boys were
soon in the air. As the pneumatic tires left the ground Ben waved
them “Good-bye” and shouted for them to be careful if they couldn’t
be good.
In ten minutes the Louise was over the camp-fire, which had been
observed all night. Nothing was to be seen but the springing flames.
There was no human being in sight.
“Well,” Jimmie said, as they circled the spot for the second time
and darted away to the east, “we’ll have to light and creep up!”
 CHAPTER VI.

THE LOSS OF THE LOUISE.

“I’d like to see you find a place where you can land,” Carl shouted
in his chum’s ear. “There’s nothing here but ridges and canyons, and
rocks and rivers at the bottom!”
“Oh, we can find a place all right,” Jimmie answered.
It was some time before the boy found a spot which appeared to
be in any way suitable for a landing. This was some distance to the
east of the ridge which shut in the valley. The shelf he selected was
rather high up, and that suited his purpose well, for, as he explained
to Carl, they would have less mountain to climb in order to get a
look into the camp.
The aeroplane landed with a bump which nearly threw the boys
out of their seats, and when Jimmie sprang off and looked about he
saw that one of the wheels was actually whirling round and round in
the air, having passed off the rock. Below, five hundred feet down,
the murmur of running water could be heard.
“Gee-whiz!” exclaimed Carl, when the position of the wheel was
pointed out to him. “That was a close call! If the other wheel had
run two feet farther, we’d have been dumped into the canyon.”
“But it didn’t run two feet farther!” Jimmie insisted. “I never saw
any advantage in raising a mess of ifs,” he went on. “If the sun
should drop down some night, the world would drop, too. But it
doesn’t, so what’s the use?”
“What next?” asked Carl.
“You stay here and watch the machine and I’ll sneak over the
ridge and crawl down to the camp. I’m curious to know why those
fellows are showing those colored lights.”
“If you get too close to them, you may find out things that won’t
do you any good.”
“Don’t croak!” advised Jimmie. “I’ll just go down there and see
how many there are in the camp, and what they’re doing, and what
they’re saying, and come right back!”
“I’ve got a picture of your doing that! Now look here,” Carl went
on, “you want to remember that I’m staying here by this machine in
zero weather, or worse, so you don’t want to go poking about until
daylight. My fingers are frozen stiff now!”
“Run up and down and keep warm, little one!” laughed Jimmie.
Before Carl could reply the boy was off, scrambling up the rocky
face of the slope which led to the summit. It was stinging cold, and
the boy needed all the exercise he was getting in order to keep his
blood in circulation. Although not on the main ridge of the Great
Divide, the boy was pretty high up.
Before he came to a position from which the valley to the west
might be seen, Jimmie found that he was wading in snow. There
was no moon, but stars shone down from a clear sky.
When he reached the crest he saw the camp-fire two or three
hundred feet below, built on a shelf of rock which seemed to afford
no protection whatever from the cold winds swirling around the
peaks.
“I don’t believe that’s any camp at all!” the boy mused. “It’s just a
signal station, and the operator is probably wrapped up in fur
overcoats a foot thick. I guess about all I can do here,” he went on,
“is to see if there is another fire in sight.”
The western slope of the ridge was much steeper than the one he
had already ascended, so at times the lad approached the hostile
camp-fire a great deal faster than he wanted to. He tried to proceed
cautiously, without making any noise, but now and then when his
feet slipped and he rolled half a dozen paces, to be caught at last by
a little crevice or a narrow shelf, small rocks became dislodged and
went thundering down.
“Might just as well take a band,” Jimmie mused disgustedly.
 When the boy came to within a few yards of the fire he saw that
only one figure was in sight. As he had predicted he would be, the
lone guardian of the fire was well bundled up in furs. If the motors
had attracted his attention his manner gave no indication of the fact.
“Looks like a wooden Indian,” chuckled Jimmie.
There was no place for the boy to secrete himself in the vicinity of
the fire, so he crouched down on the slope and looked over the
landscape beyond. He could see his own camp-fire quite distinctly,
but no other light was in sight for several moments.
Then what seemed like the blood-red light of an early August
moon showed on a level of rock far off on the west side of the
valley.
“They’re burning red fire over there, too,” he mused as the
situation became clearer in his mind.
The boy climbed back up the slope for a few yards and looked
again, but the fire itself was not in sight and only the reflection
showed on a slender surface of rock beyond. While he looked the
color changed to green, which showed indistinctly under the stars.
From his new position Jimmie could see his own camp to better
advantage than from the one lower down. He sat watching it for
some moments, wondering why Ben was moving around the blaze
so actively and why Mr. Havens had left the tent.
There certainly were two figures outlined against the blaze. The
lad studied the puzzle intently for a moment and then started back.
He understood that it would be of no use for him to try to get nearer
to the fire below. The man on watch there would be conscious of his
approach before he was within a hundred feet.
From the ridge the boy looked back to his camp again. There were
now four figures outlined against the blaze, and all appeared to be
moving about as if acting under great excitement.
Jimmie tried his best to discover whether any of the figures were
those of Mr. Havens and Ben, but the distance was too great. He
could only see the figures moving about. As he looked and studied
over the proposition he blamed himself for not bringing his field-
glass, but his self-reproach was, of course, unavailing.
 Knowing that he ought to be making his way back to the camp,
the boy still remained gazing downward as if fascinated. He had no
reason to believe that the visitors he saw were at the camp with
friendly intent. He knew that his friends might be in great danger.
Still, he sat and watched the fire like one dazed.
There had been no sound of motors, yet the intruders at the camp
had penetrated the valley since nightfall. Or had they been hiding
there at the time the boys landed? While the boy puzzled over the
situation a mass of rocks left the summit not far to the north and
went racing down the slope, making sufficient noise, as Jimmie
believed, to incite a riot a hundred miles away!
“Now there’s some one sleuthing in that direction,” the boy
mused. “Of course, he was at the camp-fire when he heard the
motors and ducked. Now he’s up there watching me, I presume.”
The lad turned toward the snow-capped summit once more,
resolved to get away to his own camp as soon as possible. When he
reached the top the clatter of motors came to his ears. He looked
down in dismay to see the Louise lifting into the air.
“Now, what’s that fool Carl doing?” he muttered.
The aeroplane left the shelf with a little dip over the precipice and
struck out for the west, passing nearly over the wondering boy’s
head. The acetylene lamp which had been arranged on the forward
framework was burning brightly, and Jimmie could see that both
seats were occupied. The lamp had been turned low just before his
departure.
The boy paused at the summit and looked back into the valley.
There was no need now for him to cross to the eastern slope. He
had no doubt that the Louise had been stolen, and that Carl was
driving her away under duress. In order to reach the camp he would
be obliged to pass down the steep slope which led to the bottom of
the valley.
Blaming himself for leaving the machine even for a moment, yet
by no means disheartened at the calamity which had overtaken him,
the boy turned his face to the south resolved to pass along the
broken summit until he had passed the vicinity of the camp below
and then work his way diagonally down the slope. As he took his
first step downward he heard a voice softly calling his name.
“Jimmie!” the voice said. “Hello, Jimmie.”
Jimmie stopped and looked back. A figure was approaching him
from the north, crouching down close to the slope of the rocks.
“Carl!” he called. “Is that you?”
“Sure!” was the reply. “I thought you had gone off in the
machine.”
“Then you went away and left her, did you?” demanded Jimmie.
“Of course I did. I wanted to see what was going on!”
“Did you see the people who took the machine away?” asked
Jimmie.
“I saw two figures—no faces,” was the reply.
“Well,” Jimmie grunted, “we’ve got a nice little walk back to
camp!”
“I hope we don’t freeze to death on the way down,” Carl cut in.
The boys walked steadily for a few moments, and then Jimmie
stopped and regarded his companion with a questioning look.
“Are you game?” he finally asked.
“I’m game!” Carl answered. “We’ve lost the machine, and it
doesn’t make any difference what happens now.”
“That’s the way I look at it!” Jimmie returned.
“What do you want to do?”
“Now, look here,” Jimmie explained. “There’s only one person at
the fire from which the signals were sent. He sits there like a
wooden Indian, probably three-fourths asleep. The two men who
went away on the Louise probably left the camp about the time we
left the machine and went over the ridge to seize it. Now, suppose
we go down there where that fellow sits alone and hold him up!”
“Hold him up for what?” chuckled Carl, immensely pleased at the
idea.
“Information!” answered Jimmie.
“Yes, and I suppose you’d believe anything he told you, wouldn’t
you?”
“Indeed, I wouldn’t! But, by going to the camp, we can doubtless
learn something regarding the situation.”
 Carl hesitated a moment and then asked:
“Did you see our camp from where you lay?”
Jimmie nodded.
“So you saw the commotion down there, too, did you?” he asked.
“Yes,” answered Carl, “and I’m for getting down there just as quick
as possible. I’m so scared about what I saw around our fire that I’m
not thinking very seriously of the loss of the Louise.”
In a moment the boys came out of a slight wrinkle which they had
been traveling and looked down on the camp they had left not long
before. Four figures were still moving in front of the blaze.
“Now, don’t you think we ought to hustle down there?” demanded
Carl. “If we get down there without being discovered and find out
that something is wrong, we can plug every one of those ginks in
the back of the head before they know we’re within a mile of them.”
“That wouldn’t help much,” Jimmie answered. “We might drive
those fellows away, if we were lucky enough to do so, but others
might take their places. I’m stuck on finding out what they want and
how they expect to get it. That’s the thing that will count.”
“Then run along and ask them,” Carl suggested, with an
impatience which was not usual with the boy.
“Honest, now,” Jimmie said in a conciliatory tone, “I believe we
can go down to this hostile camp and hold that fellow up for
information. If we get it, we will know just what to do when we get
to our own camp.”
“If we ever get there!”
“Are you going?” asked Jimmie.
“Sure, I’m going!” was the reply. “I’m game to go anywhere you’ll
go. And we can’t get down there too quick, either.”
The boys started down the declivity and then halted abruptly. The
Louise was swinging back to the east, and seemed about to settle
down upon the shelf where the alien camp had been pitched.
“That’s good!” Jimmie chuckled. “If they bring that machine down
here, I can give a good guess as to who will take it away.”
 CHAPTER VII.

THREE HUNGRY MEN.

After the departure of Jimmie and Carl, Ben sat in the shelter-tent
by the side of the injured man until he was half asleep. Mr. Havens
had fallen into a light slumber, and there was no one to talk to. He
finally arose and walked out to the fire, looking about for some sign
of the flying machine as he did so.
The Louise was not in sight, being at that time beyond the ridge
to the east, but the boy saw something which contributed
wonderfully to his wakefulness. A great mountain rat was creeping
out of the long grass toward the spot where the refuse of the meals
which had been served offered a tempting repast.
As much to keep awake as anything else, he watched the nimble-
footed, sharp-eyed rodent advancing inch by inch toward its supper.
Whenever he moved a hand or foot the rat darted back and was lost
to view. While he watched, Mr. Havens called softly from the tent.
“Shoot all the rats you see, Ben,” the aviator said. “If he gets a
bellyful here every rat in the Rocky mountains will know it before
daybreak. We may stay here several days, and can’t afford to fight
rats every hour of the day and night!”
Ben drew his revolver and when the rat appeared again, fired. He
missed at the first shot and fired again and again, until the rodent
lay dead halfway between his hiding-place and the tempting bait.
“That looks wicked to me,” Ben declared as he reloaded his
automatic.
“Self-preservation, you know,” Mr. Havens explained. “The rats
would eat us alive in less than a week if we let one get away well-
fed.”
Ben went back to the tent and sat down, but, at the suggestion of
the aviator, left almost immediately to bury the body of the rat and
the garbage which had drawn him to the camp. While engaged in
this occupation, he heard a call from the grass to the south.
“Don’t shoot!” the voice said, in what seemed to be a tremor of
alarm.
Ben sprang back to the tent and lifted his automatic from the
blanket where he had laid it. Mr. Havens motioned toward another
weapon and Ben placed it in his hand. Then the two stood waiting.
“Don’t shoot!” the voice from the darkness repeated. “We mean
you no harm! We are lost in the mountains!”
“Who are you?” asked Ben, as footsteps advanced and three
figures became distinguishable under the light of the fire.
“Campers who have lost our way,” was the answer.
The three men came on until their faces as well as their figures
were under the glow of the blaze. They held their hands out to show
that they were not carrying weapons.
“The shots you heard were directed at a mountain rat,” Ben
explained, as the men came up to where he stood.
The men revealed by the light of the camp-fire appeared at first
sight to be entirely unfamiliar with the usages of the mountains.
They were dressed in tailor-made clothes of good material, but their
faces were blackened by smoke and bore scraggly beards of a
week’s growth.
“Beg pardon,” one of the men said briskly as he stepped closer to
the fire. “Our intrusion is entirely unpremeditated.”
“We left our camp early this morning,” another member of the
little group cut in, “and lost our way. We have been chased by
grizzlies and have fallen into gulches and canyons until we are about
used up.”
“You are hungry?” asked Ben.
“Hungry?” repeated one of the visitors. “I never was so hungry in
my life. To tell the truth, we never expected to see a camp-fire or a
square meal again. Of all the blasted countries on the face of the
earth, this mountain district of British Columbia takes the lead!”
 “Where’s your camp?” asked Ben.
“I wish I knew,” answered one of the others. “We came in here a
week ago for a month’s shooting and we’ve been trying to keep
track of our camp ever since. It seems to me that it shifts about
from point to point whenever we leave it!”
“Now, look here, Dick,” one of the other men interrupted, “Steve
and I know what kind of a liar you are, but this stranger doesn’t.
First thing you know, you’ll give him the impression that we’re all
candidates for the foolish house. If you want to draw on your
imagination, jest tell him how hungry you are.”
“I’m so hungry,” Dick answered, “that I could eat grass like the old
king who was turned out to pasture a good many hundred years
ago. I’ve been thinking for several hours of slicing down a couple of
these peaks and making a grass sandwich. I should have done it,
too, only I was afraid of finding a nest of rattlers in the grass.”
“Well,” Ben said with a chuckle at the fellow’s exaggeration, “if you
want a fine bear steak, you can get one at the foot of the slope. A
grizzly dropped down from the upper regions late this afternoon and
we’ve been feeding off him ever since.”
“Is the meat good yet?” asked Dick.
“I think so,” replied Ben. “You can tell by bringing in a few slices
and putting them over the coals to broil.”
“As a rule,” Dick went on, “I don’t eat meat of any kind, but to-
night I think I could handle a couple of steaks cut off a horse.”
Without waiting for any more explanations the two men who had
been called Steve and Joe hastened out to the carcass of the grizzly
and soon returned with large slices of bear steak. Ben brought the
broiler out of one of the tents and the men set to work cooking their
suppers. They seemed rather handy at the task for city men.
While the steak was cooking, Ben made an extra large and extra
strong supply of coffee and brought out tin dishes from the box
where they kept their table furniture. The visitors eyed preparations
for supper eagerly. Now and then one of them turned his eyes in the
direction of the aeroplanes but made no comment.
“My, but that steak smells good!” exclaimed Dick. “I don’t believe I
can wait for it to cook through, Joe,” he added, “so you just smoke
up a piece, giving an imitation of a restaurant steak, and I’ll eat it
raw.”
“It won’t be long now,” Joe answered with a laugh.
“Long?” repeated the other. “A quarter of a second seems longer
to me now than all the time that has elapsed since Noah marched
his menagerie out of the ark!”
“How long have you been in the valley?” asked Ben.
“All night, I think,” Dick replied. “We saw the slope on the east and
mistook it for the one at the foot of which our camp is situated. The
farther we walked the farther the cliff looked to be. Honest,” the
man went on, with a whimsical smile, “I believe the cliff can travel
faster than we can. Most remarkable country, this!”
Long before the steaks were thoroughly cooked the men fell to,
eating like persons who had been deprived of food for many days.
“You’re the second party of hungry men we met to-night,” Ben
said.
The three looked up instantly with something more than interest
showing in their faces. Then, as if by common consent they turned
toward the aeroplanes.
“Who are the others?” asked Dick.
“I don’t know,” replied Ben. “They were husky-looking fellows who
claimed to be mounted policemen. One of them killed the bear.”
“Those are the fellows!” Dick exclaimed.
“You’ve seen them, have you?”
“Not to-day,” Dick replied. “Yesterday, two men answering the
description came to our camp and asked all sorts of questions about
the object of our visit. They asked where we came from, and how
long we were going to stay, and if we had seen other strangers in
the mountains.”
“Did they claim to belong to the mounted police?”
“They did not, but they appeared so everlastingly curious to know
all about us that somehow I got the idea that they did belong to the
Canadian force. They were hungry when they came to our camp,
too.”
“Did they say anything about aeroplanes?” asked Ben.
“Not a word!” was the reply.
 “And, look here,” Dick observed, cutting an extra large piece of
steak from the slice which lay on his plate, “I think I saw the camp-
fire of our visitors to-night. It’s up on the slope to the north.”
“You don’t suppose they’re train robbers, do you?” asked Steve,
rather excitedly. “I have heard,” he continued, “that train robbers
and other criminals come here to hide away from officers of the law.”
“I’ve been guessing about them ever since they were here,” Ben
replied.
“If I thought they were train robbers,” Dick put in, “I’d take a jump
for the nearest railroad without waiting for daylight! If you want to
scare me stiff, just mention train robbers or grizzly bears! After those
fellows left our tent yesterday, I was so frightened that I couldn’t eat
more than half a supper. Honest,” he continued, “if I had seen this
bear come tumbling down the slope, I would have let out a yell that
would have alarmed the people at Spokane!”
“You’re a great coward, if we leave it to you,” laughed Joe.
Dick grunted and applied himself with greater energy to the bear
steak.
After the men had eaten their fill Dick moved over to the
machines. He stood for some moments by the Ann without touching
her and then walked back to the fire. His companions looked at him
inquiringly.
“That’s a pretty good machine you have there,” he said. “Did you
bring it over the mountains?”
“Yes,” answered Ben, “we brought in three aeroplanes. Two of our
boys are out now with the third one.”
“That’s a fact,” Dick exclaimed as the clamor of motors came
through the still air. “And they’re doing a pretty good job, flying in
the night, at that! Looks as if they understood the game!”
The Louise lifted above the spot where the colored lights had been
displayed and whirled straight across the valley.
“What’s she going off in that direction for?” asked Dick. “Did you
notice that she came from the camp I mentioned a short time ago?”
“I did notice that,” answered Ben, “and I’m wondering why.”
The Louise swept along at amazing speed and was soon lost to
sight behind the summit to the west. Ben arose and entered the tent
where Mr. Havens lay.
“You saw the Louise?” the boy asked.
“Are you sure that was the Louise?”
“There’s no doubt of it,” Ben replied. “The ordinary aeroplane
doesn’t carry a light like that. It’s the Louise, all right, and I was
wondering what the boys are going toward the coast for.”
“I wish I knew that the boys are in charge of her,” Mr. Havens
said, after a moment’s thought. “I’m always afraid something will
happen when those boys get off together. If I hadn’t walked all over
those porcupines last night, I’d mount the Ann and make an
investigation.”
“If you think it’s safe for you to remain here with these visitors,”
Ben suggested, “I’ll go up in one of the machines and see what
they’re doing. I’m rather nervous over the matter myself.”
“I heard the talk going on by the fire,” the aviator explained, “and
my impression is that these men are all right. Still, it’s rather a risky
thing to do, to leave the camp and one machine in the custody of a
man incapable of defending them.”
“Perhaps we’d better wait a short time and see if the Louise
doesn’t return. I don’t like to take chances,” added Ben.
Presently the three visitors were invited into the tent where Mr.
Havens lay and the four talked together for some minutes, then the
aviator beckoned to Ben and whispered in his ear.
“I think it’s all right for you to take the Ann out. These men seem
to be honest fellows. They’re from Chicago, and know as little about
mountain work as a cat that has lived all its life in Gamblers’ alley.”
This was exactly according to Ben’s inclinations, and the boy lost
no time in getting the Ann ready for the air. The three visitors came
out to assist, and when Ben took his seat Dick suggested
significantly that he had never had the pleasure of riding in a flying
machine.
“Jump in then,” Ben said with a smile. “I’ll show you how it seems
to fly over mountains in the night.”
At that moment the Louise lifted over the valley once more.
 CHAPTER VIII.

“HOME OF THE FORTY THIEVES.”

Jimmie and Carl were now in a shallow wrinkle or gully which

reached from the summit of the mountain to the shelf upon which
the mysterious camp-fire had been seen. From their position they
could not secure a view of their own camp, which was much lower
down.
They could see the fire from which the mysterious signals had
been given, and also the Louise winging her way toward them, but
they could not see the Ann lifting under the stars. She was still much
too low for that.
The increasing clatter of the approaching motors of the stolen
machine, now not far away, effectually drowned the noise made by
the Ann. In fact the sparking of the oncoming machine made
conversation on the part of the boys rather difficult, obliging them to
almost shout into each other’s ears when conferring together.
It was decidedly uncomfortable for the boys in the gully. A chill
wind blew down from the snow-capped tops. They were glad that
they had brought their warmest clothing, and only wished they had
more of it.
“I wish we knew exactly where the fellows intend to land,” Jimmie
said as the boys paused in their progress toward the camp-fire.
“Yes,” Carl answered, shouting until he was red in the face, “we
ought to be right on the spot in order to give them an appropriate
reception.”
“They’ve got their nerve, anyway!” Jimmie exclaimed. “They steal
our machine and then they bring it right back!”
 “Perhaps they just borrowed it for a joy-ride!” chuckled Carl.
“These fellows don’t look like joy-riders,” Jimmie argued. “They
look like men who are here for some definite purpose.”
“They must think they’ve got us backed off the board,” Carl
suggested, “or they wouldn’t think of bringing the machine back to
the place from which they stole it.”
The Louise came steadily on, flying rather close to the ground. As
it came nearer the boys saw that the seats were occupied by three
men.
“That accounts for their keeping in the heavy air next to the
ground,” Jimmie explained. “I don’t believe they can make the
summit with that load! They must have thrown off a lot of supplies
in order to coax the old machine into carrying three.”
The machine passed over the camp-fire and proceeded toward the
summit, passing almost directly over the boys as they crouched
down in the gully.
This gully was little better than a wrinkle on the slope of the
mountain. It began at the summit and terminated at the shelf where
the camp-fire had been built. At some distant day a great boulder or
a glacier had started at the top and cut this trail to the shelf.
The sides of the gully were quite steep; in fact, almost
perpendicular in places. Only at rare intervals were the walls in such
shape as to render egress possible. Wherever the rocks were nearly
perpendicular there were little shallow caves half-concealed under
beetling crags.
It seemed an ideal place for unlawful operations, and the boys
wondered, as they sat waiting for some indication of the purpose of
the men in the machine, whether they had not come upon one of
the resorts of men who make a business of smuggling whiskey
across the border.
Presently the Louise disappeared from view, and in a short time
following the vanishing of the lights the sparking of the motors
ceased.
“It strikes me,” Jimmie said, speaking lower now, “that the old
machine has landed on the shelf where we left her. Now, what do
you think the thieves mean by such conduct? I think if I stole an
aeroplane, or a cow, or a bulldog, I’d keep it away from the vicinity
of the owner.”
“Aw, they think they’ve got a couple of boys to deal with,” Carl
answered. “But they’ll find we’ve got good automatics and know
how to use them if they get gay with us.”
“I’d like to go on a trip before I die,” Jimmie grumbled, “where I
wouldn’t have to carry an automatic in my hand every minute of the
time day and night! We butted into shooters in Mexico, in southern
California, and in Peru, and now we’ve got into the game here.”
“I don’t like the automatic incidents myself,” chuckled Carl.
“Whenever I pick up a book, now, and catch the hero drawing a
pistol and pointing with deliberate aim, I chuck the story into the
garbage box.”
The boys did not dare advance to the camp-fire, now, for should
they do so their figures would be plainly discernible from the
summit, to which the men from the Louise would undoubtedly make
their way. Before long, exclamations of annoyance were heard far up
the gully, and now and then a sharp, round light made its
appearance.
“That’s one of the electrics they stole from the Louise!” exclaimed
Carl. “And they’re coming down here, too,” he went on, “right into
this gully!”
“Yes,” Jimmie answered, “and there are two at the fire now,
instead of one. Reckon the other must have been asleep.”
“They’re coming up the gully!” exclaimed Carl.
“And the others are coming down!”
“It’s a blooming trap!” Carl cried. “They knew we’d make for the
camp-fire when they stole our machine. They knew we’d be so cold
on the shelf near the summit that we’d freeze to death if we didn’t.
So they waited until we got into the trap and started out from both
ends to meet us. No wonder they brought the machine back to the
old place with a combination like that working!”
“We might hide in one of these openings between the rocks,”
Jimmie suggested. “They probably know every one of ’em as well as
we know every burr and bolt in the Louise, but even if they do it will
take them a long time to find which one we’re hiding in.”
 They could see the two men who had left the fire scrambling up
the gully, still some distance away. The men who were coming down
were faintly outlined against the brilliant sky, and occasionally
against the white surface of the summit. This party was also some
distance away.
The boys searched about industriously for a hiding-place, rejecting
several breaks in the rocks as being too shallow, and finally came to
a cavern which seemed to extend a considerable distance under the
slope.
“I’d like to know what kind of a hole this is,” Carl whispered as the
two moved backward in absolute darkness.
“I brought my searchlight from the machine,” Jimmie whispered
back, “and when we get in a little farther, so the light won’t be seen
from outside, I’ll turn it loose.”
“You’d better do it now!” urged Carl. “When they get exactly in
front they can see the light, no matter how much we try to shield it.”
“That’s a good idea, too!” Jimmie declared.
When the light was turned on it revealed a cavern at least twenty
feet in width, extending back farther than the finger of light reached.
The floor was level and smooth, apparently worn so by the passing
of feet, and the walls held many shelves and openings, undoubtedly
made by the hand of man.
“You see,” Jimmie whispered, “we’ve struck a robbers’ den, all
right.”
“Had we better go in farther?” asked Carl.
“Of course!” answered Jimmie. “We’ll go in as far as we can.
They’ll search the place, of course, and probably capture us in the
end, but we’ll find out all we can about their nest before they get
hold of us.”
“That’s a bet!” exclaimed Carl.
For a moment the boys argued as to whether they ought to visit
the entrance before passing farther in, in order to ascertain exactly
what the others were doing, but they finally decided not to do so.
Had they followed Jimmie’s suggestion and looked out, they would
have seen the Ann hovering over the valley just beyond the shelf
where the camp-fire blazed.
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