 CHAPTER XXII David voiced the general consternation. By the Lord, masters has got the gold after all! The following silence admitted the truth of his lament. His face set grimly. His tones came harsh when at last he spoke. "'We'll keep on hunting,' he said. "'Only now we'll hunt masters.' Jake stood disconsolate, scratching his head and staring wistfully from one to another. It was evident that he accepted the catastrophe as irremediable. Not so, Billy Walker. On the contrary, Sax had hardly done speaking when the voice of the wise man came booming the decrees of radiosonation with the usual pedantic note of authority. The trouble with the disorderly mind is he began with didacticism almost insulting, that it jumped to a conclusion without due consideration of all the facts. They confronted with one fact, which is admitted, the illogical person reaches a judgment without any scrutiny whatsoever of other vital facts concerned. Thus, in the instance before us, he paused, and his little dull eyes, twinkling now from excitement, went from one to another of the three men before him, who listened too anxiously to be in the least offended, for his opening gave them hope. They knew by experience that Billy's reasoning, notwithstanding all his boasts, was, indeed, usually exact, proven just by circumstance. The respectful attention on their faces was grateful to this year. As he continued, his manner was more genial, though no less breathing the eeps a-dixit. Jake has discovered that someone has been before us here, digging in this hole. That is one single solitary fact. Instantly all of you impulsively take it for granted that Masters has found the gold here, and has already removed it. As a matter of reason, the chances are greatly against this unwarrantable assumption. It is only necessary to consider all the facts in our possession to understand this. In the first place, the fact that this hole has been dug up recently does not prove that there was gold hidden in it. As far as our knowledge goes, the treasure may have been there, or it may not. There is not a particle of evidence one way or the other. Masters was after the gold. He hunted here. That's all we know. We do not know whether or not he found the money here. Even you chaps must admit that much. He regarded the trio with accusing glances, before which they nodded a meek assent. Go on, Billy. Sacks urged. The undisguised interest of his audience served to set the orator in the best of humours, so that he grinned cheerfully on them as he resumed. There are some facts that tend to show the impossibility of Masters having already removed the money from this place. It was late when Roy got his hurt from the hands of the engineer. It is reasonable to suppose that the fellow had had no chance to find, much less take away, the gold before the time when he encountered Roy. Now the time that elapsed, after Roy received his wound until our coming to the cavern, was not very long. You doubtless remember that we were routed out at an un-Christian hour, little better than the middle of the night. In fact the dawn was still on the other side of the hills when we made the island. We were here not more than three hours after Roy got shot, and it is more likely that the interval was less. I am inclined to think it was perhaps not more than two hours. David here knows something about gold and its weight. I submit as reasonable the statement that, had Masters found the gold in this hole, he could not in the time at his disposal have removed that weight of metal to any distance without aid. We are justified in believing that he works unaided, for the sake of greed and for the sake of prudence. If you bear in mind the length of this passage and the impossibility of traversing it except slowly and cautiously, even unburdened, you will appreciate my reasons for suspecting that Masters has not carried off the gold, Billy stared inquiringly at the listeners, and appeared elated as they severally nodded agreement. No, David declared, I believe it would have been next to impossible for him to have got away with it, even if he hid it close by on the island. From the way the blood on Roy's face was caked, and the colour of it, I don't believe it had been an hour after the shooting when we got here. If you're right about that, Billy avert, it makes the probability of my reasoning a certainty. I am pretty sure, David answered, I've seen bullet holes enough to be pretty sure. Why then, Saxe exclaimed briskly, when there was new confidence in his voice, it seems to me that we are just where we are, with the gold still to find. In the first place, we must make sure that it isn't still here in this pit, and, if it isn't, we must go ahead with the search of the cavern, until we find out where it is. Billy emitted a rumbling chuckle, as Saxe leaped down into the pit and raised the pickaxe. My dear boy! the sage cried, and banter in compliment. For once you have reasoned simply and precisely. Bravo! Not much time was required to make evident the fact that there could be nothing of value concealed in the pit. The litter was readily penetrated, and revealed beneath it solid rock, undisturbed since first set there by the processes of permeable ages. The discovery was a source of relief rather than of disappointment, and Saxe, doubtless encouraged by the tribute accorded to his reasoning powers by Billy Walker, called attention to the fact that the amount of loose matter in the pit was far from being sufficient to have concealed any great bulk of gold. It was, therefore, reasonable to suppose that the treasure had never been buried in this place. The seer gave a grunt of approbation. You advance by leaps and bounds, he declared. Exploration of the continuance of the passage was speedily affected, as it narrowed immediately beyond the pit, and came to a definite end within ten yards. Thereupon the four retraced their steps, inspecting with care every inch of the way, until they reached the break that formed the communication between the two tunnels. It was decided now that the party should divide, Billy and David keeping on in this passage, while Saxe and the boatmen crossed into the other, there to follow its length under the lake. Saxe knew that he and the girl had gone a little way beyond the junction of the passages, and he was intensely eager to learn what might lie farther on. Hope mounted high as he set forth down the slope, with Jake hard at his heels. He realized that, for ill or wheel, he was close to the issue of his adventure, and he dared expect success. The way at first led downwards deeply, but afterward, at a point which, as Saxe judged, was still well within the island, the tunnel ascended for a time, then ran level. This level broadened presently into a chamber, larger even than that back at the entrance to the cavern. Their lanterns showed a room fully a hundred feet in diameter, irregular, its walls broken by many ledges, with here and there deep shadows that might shroud the entrances to other passages. It's not the place, though, Saxe declared, for we are too high. This isn't under the lake, and the cipher says, the bed of the lake. Come on, Jake. He led the way toward a tunnel that yawned blackly on the south side of the chamber. This sloped sharply downward, without a bend. Saxe, who possessed an instinct for location that was rarely at fault, had kept careful watch of every change in direction throughout the exploration. Jake, he said abruptly, after the straight course had been followed for a few rods. If we keep on like this, we ought to hit the passage where the pit is. I guess not, the boatman ejected. We've been all over that dark tunnel, and there ain't no place where this here tunnel comes into it. Now, what do you say to that, Mr. Temple? Eh? Not a blessed thing, Saxe replied. You're right, of course, and yet, anyhow, I'd be willing to wager we'll run within a rod of the other passage at farthest. Ain't no way of settling that thar idea, yawned, Jake commented, with a cackle. Guess that's how I don't find a bet, nun. The two went on in silence after this, moving at a fair rate of speed, for the tunnel was only slightly encumbered with debris, but they did not permit haste to breed neglect of their purpose. Ever as they went, they kept a careful lookout for ought that might by any possibility be a hiding-place for the Mizo's gold. On either side, they looked, above, below, always in vain. Nowhere in the descent was there anything to suggest the receptacle for stores of precious metal. Suddenly, Saxe, who front his place in advance had been puring before him anxiously, spoke in a voice of discouragement. Jake, I believe we're coming to the end of it. The boatman quickened his steps, and reached the speaker's side. The two halted. By the light of their lanterns they saw a wall of stone, which barred for their passage. Here was, indeed, the end of the tunnel. Jake nodded his head. Yes, he agreed, it's the end, sure enough. The floor is broken, Saxe cried, of a sudden. In an instant he was surcharged with excitement. Jake, too, was thrilled. Together they stared fixedly at the space that stretched level from their feet to the end of the tunnel. Wildest hope was welling in Saxe's breast now. In the interstices of broken rock before him, imagination caught the yellow gleam of coins. Here at this point the floor of the cavern showed some evidence of containing a natural opening similar to that in the other passage at the place where Roy had seen Masters, but where the other opening had been plainly visible, and, in fact, only partially filled by the pieces of stone within it. This was full to the top with rock fragments, neatly compacted, so neatly compacted in truth, that it were easy to suspect the cunning of man in their precise adjustment, rather than the haphazard of nature. Gazing down on that orderly arrangement, the two men became certain that here, at last, was the spot chosen by the dead miser for the concealment of his store. Yet, for a little, each hesitated to begin the examination that would prove conclusive. They were half-fearful of putting conviction to the test of proof. Perhaps, too, the delight of anticipation held them enthralled. Saxe walked slowly along one side of the broken place until he came to the end of the tunnel. There something in the rocky wall caught his attention, and she regarded the terminal formation more critically. Presently he turned to Jake and spoke with an air of triumph. I am sure I was right about this passage running to the one where we found Roy. This is a continuation of the other. The opening in the floor here is the other half of the one into which masters burrowed. Well, maybe so, maybe so. Jake replied, in a voice that was plainly skeptical. But just how do you make out all that law or information? Buy my bump of location, chiefly. I admit it, but there's corroborative evidence in the fact that the wall here is only a big boulder, along with a lot of smaller stones which block the passage. Well, so be. The boatman commented placidly, I don't calculate as how it makes a mighty sight a difference one way or the other. The pinch is, what internations under here? Of course. Just conceded. Merely it pleases my vanity to have been right. He came to the old man's side and spoke with a quick sharpness in his tone. And now, Jake, let's find out if there's anything here. A few blows from the pickaxes loosened the closely packed pieces of stone. The two then began to cast out these to one side. They found the work simple enough, though fatiguing, for many of the rocks were of formidable weight, but all were lying loosely, once the top layer had been removed. Sacks paused for a brief rest, after having with difficulty heaved a huge stone from the pit. Mr. Abernethy never could have handled these. He exclaimed, the idea is absurd. The boatman shook his head in emphatic denial. Don't you go worrying yourself none over that? he counseled. That thar old man was a wonder in some ways. He was mighty powerful in his arms and chest. I seen him once lift a barrel of vinegar up by the chines into a wagon. I reckon he acquired considerable muscle from the piano. He used to wallop at some tremendous, I tell you. Yep. He could hissed out a heftier rock nor you or me. This information quickened Sacks's hope. Once he toiled on with increased energy. The boatman showed an equal zeal. The pit grew deeper momently. Suddenly Jake gave forth a great shout. Jumping, Joseph at, we've struck it. He straightened up, his face creased with innumerable wrinkles of happiness as he looked across the pit at Sacks. The air of Abernethy was beside the speaker within the second. As he bent forward, following the boatman's gesture, he saw in the open place left by the removal of the stone, a surface of oak. He understood that this must be the cover of a chest. An exclamation of triumph broke from his lips. He made no effort to conceal his agitation. Quick! Quick! He cried. Let's get the other stones off. He hurled from the pit with ease one witch a minute before. He could hardly have stirred. The splendid madness of success tripled strength. The old man beside him shared in the frenzy of toil. Within an incredibly short time the oak covering was laid bare, and one corner of the chest stood exposed for its whole height. It was a great box of polished wood, brass bound at the corners. The cover was made fast by Haspin Padla. The whole simple, yet very strong and handsome. Hurrah! Jake cried, as he paused from the work to wipe his dripping forehead. Hurrah! Sax answered, as he, too, rested. Then he remained staring at the mighty box, wherein lay a fortune. He was too dazed by the final victory to think with coherence. He could but feel, with every atom of the energy in him. There was no further interchange between the two for some time. In silence they again attacked the litter of rock that surrounded the chest. It was freed at last from the rampart that had shielded it. Jake put his shoulder against the side and essayed an experimental push. With the groan from the strain he abandoned the futile effort. There was vast contentment in his smile when he spoke. I calculate that our box will heft pretty considerable. It's gold, all right. Yes, it's the gold! Sax agreed, dreamily. He was thinking of Margaret now, and he smiled as he reflected on the fact that the Miser's legacy would fall to her and him together. A great longing to be alone assailed him. He turned impulsively to the boatman. Hurrah! We can find the others, Jake! He directed. You bet ye! The boatman responded with a lacquery. He was eager to bear the tidings, and at tries he had scrambled out of the pit, seized his lantern, and set off briskly up the slope of the tunnel. Left alone, Sax lied at a cigarette, smiling a little as he noted the manner in which his hands were trembling. Then he seated himself comfortably at the edge of the pit, and gazed rapidly down on the treasure chest. CHAPTER XXIII 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 discomforture. 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 peel 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. Fourth with, 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 Sax 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 master's ambitions. Billy beheld with pride a final vindication of his exactitude and radiosynation. Sax 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, with skilled and 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 weigh 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 last those on, to serve as handles and 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 Abernethy's gold in the bank before night. Frank sheds 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, if quite a stretch up that slope. Roy nodded assent, and the two hastened off. During their absence, Roy, with the assistance of sacks, busied himself in arranging a smooth plain of stones in that end of the pit nearer the assent, 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 labour. In the end, however, went by great exertion on the part of each, and by the employment of the pickaxes as lovers 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 the short time the box was firmly set within the hempen bands, nodded with seamen-like 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. Sax and Billy remained below, beside the treasure-test. Sax lighted another cigarette. Billy had recourse to one of his customary black cigars, and the two smoked contentedly in silence. Sax 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, Sax 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 failed 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 boatmen 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, Sax 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? It 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! Sax 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! Sax 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 Sax 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 devil-tree, having thus delivered himself, the oracle closed his eyes, and, while continuing to listen, scowled portentiously in token of absorbed radiosynation, while Sax 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 Sax, 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. Sax objected. Oh, Dynamite is a quick worker. The sage vouchsafed. Dynamite? Sax 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. Suddenly he wouldn't mind much if some of us got hurt. He turned his head to shout rockously over his shoulder at Sax, who below him stood staring in horrified amazement. But he'll be at a safe distance, and so will 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 Sax. 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, Sax 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, and 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, Sax 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!� Sax cried frantically in his frenzier 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 their rushing torrent. But Billy, whose bulk kept him afloat easily, had put out a hand, so that he held fast to Sax's collar. Thus they were born 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. For once the majestic volume of Billy Walker's voice served his necessity. The words bellowed in Sax's ear tamed softly, as from an infinite distance, yet clearly. �There's no turn like that. We are 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, Sax felt his fingers touch on stone. While his hand rasped on the rock for hold, his feet found footing, and 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 Sax expected to feel the swirl of it about his feet, leaping to engulf him. He was shattering 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 Sax 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! Chapter 24 For a little, after he had realized the fact that the water could mount no higher, Sax experienced such joy as must come to any normal person on escaping out of the peril of death. Ultimately however, the first emotion wore itself out by its own intensity, and he was left free to think coherently again. The result was disastrous. There leaped in his consciousness the hideous truth that death was not avoided, only postponed. This refuge on the heap of rocks offered safety from drowning, from being crushed by the waves against the walls. It gave no more. On this tiny island the two were marooned, with not to expect save a slow, frightful death. They had been born hither on the first in rush of the waters, and only the height of the cavern had saved them at the time. Now there was no means by which they might make their way out from this prison. Beyond the chamber in which they were, the passage that led to the outdoors first dipped sharply. For a great way it must be filled with the flood. Margaret West had spoken of another entrance somewhere, but she had told him nothing in detail. It was evident that this could not be in the chamber, or if there it must be covered by the lake's flow, incapable of affording egress. Had it placed near the roof, the light of it must have shown clearly against the Stygian blackness. And there was no faintest gleam of light anywhere. Saxe's eyes roved in fierce longing, but nowhere was their ought except the total darkness. For once the sage had reasoned ill. There had been grisly mockery in his cry that they were safe, in this place where there could be no safety. This was, in truth, the safety of the tomb, a narrow perch whereon to attend death, to wait supine, impotent, for a laggard dissolution by starvation. And Billy realized now the dread certainty of their plight. Otherwise he had not sat there in grim silence. Surely Roy and David had the better part, since their engulfment had been swift. They were spared the lingering tortures of these survivors, destined to a few dreadful hours. Then Saxe remembered the miser's gold, and the hate of it welled high in his heart. Truly there had been a curse on it, and the wretched man thought of Margaret most of all. But that which he thought of her should not be written. It was the supreme agony. Saxe had the courage of the strong man, but nature permits no man to lay down his life uselessly without revolt. Neither Saxe nor Billy was a coward, yet each was craven there and that Irie above the flood, which imprisoned them in eternal night. The crime of masters had brought want and destruction upon them. There was no solace of justice in this tomb. They were abandoned of hope. Their hearts were sick within them. Billy Walker spoke at last, and his voice was humbler than its want, less sonorous too. The first angry uproar of the waters was ended now, although they were rippling and swirling daintily still, as if in tender caress of the rocks, which so recently they had smitten in fury. Above the gentle noise of the eddies, the sage's voice, mild as it was comparatively, sounded clearly. Instantly a cry came from the far side of the chamber. Billy, Billy, you're alive! It was Roy's voice, and another voice broke in on the words, shouting shrilly. Billy, thank God! It was David's voice. Billy roared so joyously that all other tones were lost for a time, but, at last, Roy and David caught Saxe's higher pitch, and they were glad anew. Across the room, questions and answers were volleyed. It was made known that Roy and David, at the first rush of the lake upon them, had held to the projections of the rock where they had just made fast the tackle, and had climbed higher until they were safe above the flood. Now they rested aloft on a tiny shelf of stone, only a little way beneath the roof, and they, even as Saxe and Billy, realized to the full the impossibility of escape from this sepulcher within the earth, and Roy lamented in characteristic fashion after Saxe and Billy had explained the cause of the lake's inflow, which had been a mystery to the other two. I'm sorry I couldn't have had a chance at masters before he went. David's voice, usually so kindly, was harsh as he spoke. The skunk got us after all, he mourned. He added with frank ferocity. Damn him! He knew, as did the others, that such speech concerning the dead was unseemly. Yet none rebuked him. For a moment the warmth of wrath was comfort against the chill desolation of their case. Nevertheless, Billy Walker's ruling passion was so strong that not even death might daunt it. The action of masters required some explanation to make all clear before the less orderly minds of his friends. So, after a period of reflection, he expounded his understanding of the engineer's part and the final act of their drama. The volume of his voice was such that he did not need to go beyond his usual conversational thundering to be heard distinctly by those on the opposite side of the chamber. Masters naturally didn't mean to do this thing, he declared. He wasn't the type to commit suicide. He kept track of us all the time. How he did it doesn't matter especially. Probably he used another entrance to the cavern, which we don't know. Anyhow, he learned what it was we had found down this way. I guess he spied on us and heard you, Roy, and Dave, working on the tackle, and took it for granted we were all here together. He thought he could burrow through, and get at the gold himself while we were off after help. He meant to blow an opening just big enough to get through, I fancy. He failed to take into consideration the frailness of the roof that stood between the passage and the lake. He blew a hole in the bottom of the lake, and that was the beginning of our troubles and the ending of his. He couldn't find a refuge like ours in that other passage. Exit Masters. I regret our fate, but not his. With this succinct statement the sage relapsed into silence, which continued until Roy relieved his overwrought feelings by a denunciation against fate. I've been on the edge of dying many a time, he declared bitterly, but I was never up against this sort of thing before, and I'm free to say that I don't like it. There's some satisfaction in being done to death in a good fight, or in battling your best against any kind of odds. Of course a man doesn't exactly want to die any time, but what puts me in the dumps is this particular variety of dying that we are up against here. We've got to sit roosting on a shelf in the dark, like a heathen idol in a temple after it's been buried in an earthquake, and we've just got to sit till we start to death. I do hope I run across Masters in the next world. Let us hope for your own sake that both you and Dave do not have your wishes granted concerning Masters in the next world, Billy exclaimed. The grim jest was not amusing in the situation. The three heroes shivered a little, and were silent. Afterward the four gave themselves to serious meditation, as was fitting to men in the presence of death. On one occasion, Billy, an answer to a question from David, discoursed freely on the reasonableness of belief in a future life, and pleaded in defence of such faith with the lucid sincerity and completeness that first surprised, then comforted his audience. Each after his own fashion, believed in the continuance of life through death, nonetheless each was loathed to put off the garment of mortality. Billy Walker would feign have remained on earth for a larger acclamation of its wisdom, with which, as it seemed to him, he had only just begun. Jesus' heart was near to breaking over the knowledge that he must go from Margaret into the unknown places where she would not be. Roy felt the like desolation because of May. David, since he had no particular thing to regret with superlative sadness, let his longing touch on many things, and grief was heavy upon him because he must lose all, all. A single incident afforded the unhappy men diversion from their plight. After some discussion, it was agreed that it would make the situation a trifle less dreary if the four of them were gathered in one place, instead of being divided by the width of the chamber. The shelf on which Roy and David had disconced themselves was not of a size sufficient to accommodate the other two. For that matter, its dimensions were unduly restricted even for those already there. On the other hand, the top of the heap of rocks up which Saxon Billy had climbed afforded ample room for all, besides giving better opportunity for the securing of water to drink, since the masked stones were easy of ascent and descent. Unfortunately, there was a difficulty in the way of consummating the assembly of the four in the one place due to the fact that David could not swim. It was arranged finally, however, that Billy Walker should swim across the chamber, being guided by the voices of Roy and David, and that then he and Roy should support the other across to the heap of stones, being guided in turn by the voice of Saxe, who would remain behind for that purpose. At once, when this arrangement had been made, Billy clambered down the rocks with many a sigh, until the water supported him. Then he swam easily to the point from which Roy was calling. David let himself down into the water through the blackness without the mirror as his friends bait him, and very quickly he was carried across to the place indicated by the voice of Saxe. A minute later, the four friends were reunited on their microscopic island, and the fact yielded them a pleasure melancholy and fleeting, yet a pleasure, and alleviation, where no alleviation had seemed possible. Even in this fatal plight, the sage preserved his serenity, and from time to time startled his companions by his utterances, thus breaking in by ever so little on the torment of their spirits. They had just finished drinking as best they might from cupped hands dipped into the water at their feet, and David had spoken of being already hungry, when Billy laughed in his usual noisy outburst. "'Exactly,' he exclaimed. Always, when a man is confronted with absolute lack of provisions, he at once develops irrevenous appetite. He may have eaten five meals on the day of the wreck, and have gorged to repletion five minutes before the ship foundered, when he has become acquainted with the fact that he is adrift on the ocean in an open boat with only a few drops of water in the beaker, and ten wormy biscuits for six persons. He immediately begins to feel the gnawing pains of ravenous hunger and deadly thirst. Naturally, it will be so with us.' David has already spoken. For my part, I confess that I, too, hear the generalissimo of the belly clambering for the reinforcements, although I enjoyed a capital and capacious breakfast, and it's not yet anywhere near the scheduled hour for lunch and on the earth above. At that there came a chorus of protests from the others, who had listened patiently enough hitherto. "'No time for lunch in,' Roy exclaimed indignantly. "'Man, you're crazy.' "'It's well along in the night,' Sax affirmed, or maybe toward the morning of next day.' David spoke with the emphasis of entire conviction. "'We've been here close to twenty-four hours already.' "'Or even more,' Roy added defiantly. Billy Walker chuckled, a great volume of sound, which sent multiplying echoes afar over the placid water that shut them off from life. The exercise of reason convinces me that all of you are quite wrong.' The sage remarked very genially. "'There are certain well-known facts that compel me to believe you are wrong in your estimate of the time already elapsed since your incarceration by the flood. You are, perhaps, aware that in situations such as ours, the human mind errs outrageously in its calculations of time. Persons buried alive for a few hours invariably deemed the time many days. One lives through great suffering. He believes that the time of his agony has been correspondingly great, though it may have been a matter of seconds rather than of hours. This involuntary exaggeration seems a universal rule. We can't reasonably believe that we are constituted differently from other men. With the judgment clarified by reason, based on knowledge of allied facts, I am compelled to believe, in direct contradiction to my own feelings, as well as yours, that the time elapsed since the lake broken on us hasn't been more than—' Billy paused to reflect, running over the sequence of events as the basis of computation. "'Well, how long is it, measured by logic and not by emotion?' sacks demanded somewhat sulkily. "'And, after all,' Billy remarked musingly, "'time is only one of the categories of human thought, as Kant pointed out. To me it seems eons since I was in the great out-of-doors—free, free to live. I judge by reasoning that we have been shut up here for nearly an hour. Not quite.' Before Roy could voice the protest on his lips, a cry came from sacks. "'Hark! Hark!' The others held silent, marveling what this might mean. To their ears came the gentle lapping of the waves against the walls of the prison-house, the faint sighs of their own breathing. Nothing else.' After a long time, sacks spoke again, and his voice was lifeless, where before it had been vibrant with feeling. "'I must be going mad,' he said simply. "'I thought that I heard—someone calling my name.'" CHAPTER XXV. As they were lingering over the breakfast-table that same morning, Margaret turned to May with a smile. "'And to think of them off adventuring now, this very minute?' she exclaimed, pouting a little. It was rather horrid of them to go at such an unearthly hour, when, of course, we weren't up.' May nodded cheerfully. "'Yes, I'd have enjoyed being in at the finish, if only I'd been invited.' "'And I, too,' Margaret declared. "'Anyhow, it's my affair in a way, so I think I'm entitled to a spectator's privilege at least. It must be horribly exciting for you, with so much money involved.' May ventured, somewhat timidly. Margaret received a suggestion without sign of offence, and answered seriously. "'I don't wish Mr. Temple to fail. I don't really need the money. Besides,' she broke off in confusion. "'And besides, everything may come out right, after all, for everybody concerned,' May said slyly. Margaret blushed to warmest rose, but she showed no displeasure at the innuendo. "'Except the poor musicians,' she remarked, and then the two girls laughed joyously. As a matter of fact, each of them understood perfectly the progress of the other's love affair, but their intimacy was too new for the most sacred confidences. Then, Margaret received an inspiration. "'Why, we'll go,' she exclaimed. Her expression showed surprised triumph over the idea. "'Where?' May questioned, at a loss. "'To the island, of course,' came the brisk answer. "'I'll run and tell mother, and then we'll paddle up there, and see everything that's to be seen.' "'Splendid!' May cried with enthusiasm. She was interested in the outcome of the treasure hunt, but at this moment her soul thought was a thrilling one to the effect that, by the plan, she would see Roy the Sooner. So it came about that in mid-afternoon the two girls beached the canoe on the strip of sand at the island, and started toward the cavern. They were a little puzzled by the absence of the launch, and wondered if the fact were significant of good or ill-fortune for the searchers. As they came to the top of the low bluff that rose from the shore, Margaret paused, and turned to look out over the lake. "'No, the launch isn't in sight anywhere,' she said. As she would have faced about to go on, a faint muffled sound came to her ears. The ground trembled very slightly. A movement of the lake's surface caught her glance. A moment before, the tiny waves, glistening prisms under the sunlight, had made a scene of quiet beauty. Now in the twinkling of an eye, there had come a change, a change curious and explicable, sinister. Out there in the lake, only a little way from the shore, the water which had been so placid when they skimmed over it hardly a minute before, was now writhing in a horrible convulsion. Yet no unworn tempest wracked the lake. The warm air was floating as linguably as hitherto. Nothing had been hurled into the water. There had been no crash of fallen meteor, not showed as the cause of this amazing contrast. Nevertheless under her eyes, the erstwhile tranquil bosom of the lake heaved in rage. Fifty yards from the shore, the water raced, lashing itself in wrath about the sunken center of its vortex. Margaret, thrilled, astounded, terrified, caught May by the arm, pulled her about. See! See! She cried wildly. What is it? What can it mean? May, too, was stupefied by the spectacle. She stared at it in wordless confusion. She could make no guess as to the cause of this extraordinary event, nor tried to. She merely watched the mad corrals of the flood instead of gasped. A great fear of this uncanny thing fell on the two girls, so that they clung together for protection, shuttering their faces pallid. It seemed to the watchers as if that mysterious turmoil in the waters of the lake continued for hours, though, as Billy Walker might have explained to them, it was doubtless no more than a matter of minutes. The commotion spread over a broad area, but the girls had eyes only for the central place of the movement, the maelstrom near the shore, where the waters whirled in funnel shape, with the swaying hollow pointing the downward rush. An engineer would have known at first glance the reason for this churning of the lake, would have understood that some sudden vent below had set the tide racing to new liberty, but the girls had no such learning in physics. They could only look on in fascinated wonder in awe, haphazard fantastic ideas darted in their brains, vague guesses concerning sea serpents, earthquakes, tidal waves, waterspouts, which their own native sense rejected. Throughout the experience neither was able to contrive any explanation of the extraordinary event. They were as confounded at the end as at the beginning. Little by little the waters of the lake ran slowly, and more slowly, in the path set them by the whirl. At last there was scarcely a ripple to mark the spot where the cauldron had seethe hottest. Once again there was nothing to see save the light tossing of the waves, dancing to the rhythm of the breeze toward the kisses of the sun. Margaret and May set their faces once more toward the cavern. They were garrulous over the mystery, hardly concerned with the treasure quest for the moment. But the new interests had not lessened the desire of their hearts, and they quickened their steps, each at thought of the man she loved, now so near at hand. So they came soon to the cliff in the ravine. Where was the entrance to the cave? Margaret had brought her torch which Jake had recharged for her the night before from his own supplies. She pressed the button, pushed aside the concealing branches, and made her way within the opening, followed closely by May, who experienced a pleasurable excitement as she thus penetrated into the earth. The two came duly to the chamber, which they crossed to where the black openings into the tunnel showed. Now May's heart beat faster as she found herself deep in this grim abode of darkness, where the limited radiance of the torch served but to make more grotesquely menacing the shadowy unknown on every side. Yet she would not confess the fear that clutched at her, only held fast some Margaret's arm and chatted with unusual volubility, while a little quaver crept in her voice. They entered the passage on the right, which Margaret had traversed with sacks, and went forward with what speed they might over the rocks that cumbered the floor. They had descended for some distance, but had not yet reached the rift that led across into the other tunnel, when Margaret halted abruptly, with a gasp of amazement. It's water, she cried, dumbfounded. She stood staring with dilated eyes. Her lips parted, stupefied with astonishment, pointing with her free hand to the space before her, with the glow of the torch shown on a softly rippling level of water, which filled the tunnel like the contents of a well seen down the slope. May, who had held her eyes fixed on the floor to save herself from stumbling, looked forward at the exclamation and perceived the water, but the sight was not especially impressive to her. She supposed that here was merely a well in the path. She did not understand her friend's dismay. What is it? She asked, with no great interest. She wondered in which direction they would turn to pass by the pool. Margaret, however, was thinking with desperate energy. Her mind was naturally keen, and it had enjoyed advantages of careful training. She began, at last, to suspect something as to the true significance of the catastrophe in the lake, which hitherto had baffled comprehension. The presence of water in the cavern, where before had been no water, sent her at first, then, as she apprehended vaguely the meaning of it, it appalled. There where the tunnel was steep, the water filled it completely. She went forward until the water was at her very feet and stared down at it, her face colorless. Her pulse bounding wildly in the grip of cold horror. Finally, she began stammering affightedly. The lake, the water out there, it's broken into the cavern. They're drowned, drowned, sacks! Her voice rose to a wail on the last word. Margaret's terror, rather than her words, had filled the other girl with dismay at first. But drowned gave form to fear. May, in turn, was stricken with horror. Drowned? She repeated in a whisper. Roy? Her memory went back to the scene she had just witnessed on the lake. The utterance of Margaret, broken, uncomprehended, became hideously plain. It meant that the lake had somehow entered this cavern, which ran beneath the waters. In that case, the men down within the earth there must have been overwhelmed by the inpouring flood. But even as conviction came, her spirit refused credence to the truth. She cried aloud and revolted. No. No. No, I tell you, they are safe, safe! Margaret gave no heed to the folly of the words. The confidence in them spurred her to endeavour. Come! she exclaimed. She whirled and ran swiftly over the rubble, back the way they had come. Her thoughts were chaotic. But through them ran refusal to believe the worst. He. They. Sacks must have received warning. Must be safe. Somewhere. Somehow. Must be. Must be. May, hard on Margaret's heels, was sore pressed to keep the pace over the jumble of fragments. When they had come to the great chamber, Margaret, without pause, turned into the passage on the left. With the same speed, she hurried along this, panting now. May ran just behind. Then finally the horror against which Margaret had hoped burst full on her. She halted, reeling, a shriek of despair wavering on her pulsed lips. A few feet away, down the tunnel's slope, lay the level black of water, shining gently under the beams of the torch, serene, impeccable. May, too, saw ununderstood and rested frozen in dumb anguish over this ending of all things. There are certain calamities so unexpected, so monstrous, that the mind refuses to accept them as fact at first announcement, no matter what the proof, it was so here. The two girls, freshly stirring to the most subtle and the most potent of human emotions, love, come forth in the morning with gladness of heart to meet the men of their choice, gaily eager to learn of an adventure, or now, in a flash, confronted with an inconceivable disaster. They would not accept the fact, they could not. There was, there must be, some hideous mistake, soon to be cleared away. Despite all evidence, those they loved had not been done to death. Down there within the abysses of the earth. Somewhere, somehow, they had escaped. They would come forth presently. And then there would be only laughter, where now was terror. It was this refusal to believe that gave Margaret inspiration to action at last. Of a sudden, she bethought herself on that other entrance to the cavern, concerning which she had spoken to sacks. On the instant, she again turned, and fled back through the tunnel without a word. May, not understanding, yet still defiant, a feat, followed. The time was marvelously short until they were again in the ravine outside the cavern. But Margaret did not pause here. She did not even trouble to cut off the current of her torch, of which the glow showed wonly against the sunlight, as she went running swiftly through the ravine, and out on the little plateau that lay at its mouth. There she hesitated, but only for a second, her eyes sweeping the angulations of the island while memory struggled for assurance. Certainty flashed on her, and again she leaped forward, may always close beside in the flight. Across the plateau Margaret sped, into a golly that ran toward the shore, up a stiff slope to the crest of a ridge, which was part of the bluff overlooking the lake. The summit was boulder-strewn, a medley of masses lying topsy-turvy. She threaded away among the rocks, perforce more slowly, yet still with feverish haste. At last she halted, with a great cry of joy. "'It is here,' she said softly. There was a note of reverent thankfulness in her voice. May looked, wondering, and saw a small hole amid the rocks at her feet. It was less than a yard in length, and in breadth much narrower. She perceived that it was not quite vertical, though almost. A short way below the surface, its course was hidden in blackness. Margaret wasted not a moment. "'They're in there, I know,' she explained succinctly to May. "'I am going to show them the way out.' As a matter of fact, the girl knew nothing as to the fact she stated so authoritatively. She had no least idea as to that part of the cavern on which the chimney gave. Her cousin had pointed it out, and had told her that by it he first made his way within. Beyond that she knew nothing whatever. Hope dictated her claim to knowledge. She still denied any credence to the final catastrophe. Here now lay the sole avenue of escape. So she announced it with positiveness that admitted no question. Thus only might courage be held. May, for her part, eager to believe, received the declaration without doubt. Moreover Roy had discourse to her at length concerning the curious operations of the sixth sense. With that receptivity characteristic of the fond woman she had accepted his pronouncements without hesitation, glad to believe whatsoever he believed. Besides, she had great faith and feminine intuition. And what was intuition if not that self-same psychic thing over which her lover oxidized? Now instinct cried that the man she loved was safe, and she believed. "'Shall I go, too?' she asked. Margaret shook her head. She turned to scan the lake. "'No,' she said. "'You couldn't help, and it may be bad climbing. But I'm used to that. You keep watch for Jake in the launch. He may be needed later on.' With that as the last word she let herself down into the chimney of the rocks. May from above gazed with wide eyes until the form of her friend disappeared into the blackness below. Then she turned to look out over the lake, an anxious search for the coming of the launch. Standing alone there, with the dreadful mystery hidden within the earth under her feet, she felt a quick reaction of doubt which welled swiftly to the torture of despair. The strength flowed from her. She sank to her knees, and stared down into the dark of the chasm with dull, unseeing eyes, rested motionless in the apathy of supreme misery. End of Chapter 25 Chapter 26 of The Lake Mystery by Marvin Dana This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 26 In the Dark Margaret, as she let herself down into the chimney, held the torch so as to show her surroundings. She still clung to the rock above with her right hand, while the left was occupied by the torch. As yet she had found no footing. The light revealed that this opening through the ridge was the result of the lodging of one huge block of stone, which had left the angle between it and the other rock empty. A clutter of fragments formed the third side of a triangle, which extended downward steeply as far as she could see. A feeling of sick apprehension swept over her when she perceived the manner in which some of the stones hung, seemingly poised to a fall. Then in the next instant she recalled the reason of her presence there, and conquered dread in the need of action. She saw a jutting bit of rock a few inches below her feet. She let herself down to the extreme limit of reach, and found herself just able to touch the support with a toe. She released her hand-hold, and thus remained, half standing, half lying in the hole. She searched out other points to which her fingers might cling, at the height of her breast. Clenching these, she bent her knees, and finally came to a crouching posture on the tiny ledge that had been under her feet. In the like tedious, slow fashion, she continued the descent for a distance of perhaps twenty feet without mishap, though in constant danger of a fall. But at this point new difficulties threatened, though she took long to search. She could find nothing to afford a foothold, even the tiniest. To make the matter worse, just hear the smoothness of the walls was such that her hands could secure only a doubtful grip. She studied the situation painstakingly by means of the torch, making sure that nowhere a projection of the stone escaped her observation. She was distraught by this ill fortune, which threatened the rune of her hopes. Finally, however, she perceived by the light of the torch that, two yards or more below the point to which her feet reached, the chimney bent a little toward the horizontal. At the sight, Margaret's courage sprang to new life. Without a second of delay in which fear might grow, she loosed her hold and let herself slip downward. The steepness of the chimney was so great that her movement was rather a-falled in a slide. In the very second of the start, she felt the violent impact of her feet against the stone as they struck the bend. Nor was the change of direction sufficient to overcome the impetus of the drop, as she had hoped. Her body shot onward down the rough slope. She caught at the walls with her fingers, but, though the ragged surface tore the skin from her flesh, she could get no clutch strong enough to stay the flight. The torch had slipped from her grasp without her even being aware of its loss at the time. In the darkness, she went hurtling on. Her spirit broke in these seconds of dreadfulness. She felt that death waited at the end of the fall. Saxe's name was on her lips when she crashed into pause. For a long time she lay without any movement. Her sole consciousness, a dazed suffering from bruised flesh and aching bones. Her senses all but failed, yet did not quite. A vague, incoherent necessity beat upon her brain, though she could by no means understand what that need might be. Her one clear realization was of pain. Pain pervasive, deadly. But little by little the torment of racked nerves lessened. It seemed to her ages after that hideous drop through the black when. At last her mind grew active again. On the instant she was a creature transformed. She contrived with infinite pains to sit erect, alert to know the truth as to her own condition, for she still had work to do. To her relief she found that, despite the complaining of her beaten body, she had been spared broken bones or other hurt that might disable. There was misery in each movement, but she could move, and with that she was content, grateful to Providence that her plight was no worse. She looked back, and saw, a long way off, a feeble, pallid light. Which came she made certain from the foot of the shaft at the bend. Now from its remoteness she was able to make some estimate of the distance through which she had sped beyond it, and she was feigned to wonder that she should be indeed alive. It was easy to determine that she was lying on a shelf of rock, which was almost level. She felt about this, and even ventured to crawl a short way. Then her groping hand struck on emptiness, and shuddering she drew back from the invisible void. Nevertheless weakness gave ground to desire. She must press onward somehow to the rescue. At once she began creeping forward, bearing to the right, on which side she felt the sheer wall of a cliff. She judged that, by proceeding thus, she would be safe from the gulf as far as the ledge might run. She had gone perhaps twenty yards in this tortous manner, when a sudden thought halted her in anger against the folly of having neglected this simplest expedient. Sacks, the others, might be about anywhere, and she had not called to them. Forthwith she gathered her strength, such as was left to her, and sent out a cry, a pitiful, passionate cry. Sacks, sacks! She listened in breathless suspense. There came no answer. Then, after a time, she called again, and again there came no answer, yet she refused to lose hold on faith. She sought comfort in the thought that she was still too far from him for her voice to carry. So she set forward anew on hands and knees, her fingers groping over the rock on which she crawled, to make sure that the way was safe for her passing. Physical suffering rend her, but an indomitable spirit spurred the jaded body. By sheer strength of will, she persisted in that pitiful progress through minute after minute, until at last she deemed the distance traversed enough to warrant a second calling into the dark. Sacks, sacks! sounded the repetition of her summons, followed an instant of profoundest silence as the last echoes of the shriek cry died. Then, of a sudden, the air was shattered with clamours, a dine of shouts roared in her ears, multiplied by the reverberations of the cavern, chaotic, deafening. Out of all the cacophony, her strange sense caught a tone that thrilled the heart to rapture. Her voice rose in a scream, hysterical, triumphant, an answer. Sacks, sacks! And then a weary murmur. Oh, thank God! A little silence fell. It was broken by her own name, spoken in his voice. Margaret? Yes, sacks! She answered simply. It was evident that the distance between them was not very great. She wondered that her calling should have remained unheard in the earlier effort. It occurred to her that perhaps in the first attempt she had not really cried out with all her might, as was indeed the case. You. You. Margaret. You came for us. Yes. There was no need to explain that she had come for him, for him alone. Oh, she would be very glad that the others should win to life. But she had come for him, for him only. You are safe, she added. Yes. The others were silent, giving the dialogue to the girl and sacks, for they understood how it was between the two. You came by the other entrance of what you told me. Yes, through the chimney, on the ridge by the shore. May is there, watching and waiting for Jake to come. We shall need help to get out. It is hard to climb. I slipped coming down. You are hurt. The lover's voice was harsh with fear. But Margaret laughed blithely. What matter a few bruises now? It shook me up a bit, she confessed, but I'm all right. The worst of it was that I lost my torch. Can you come to me here? I know how to find the way back in the dark. Billy Walker deemed it time that he should assume direction of the affair. Do you know how high above the water you are there, Miss West? He demanded. The gruff voice was very gentle, for gratitude to this girl burnt hot in him, as in the others. She had brought the gift of life to dead men. No, Margaret answered. You are on a ledge, of course. The sage continued, please get to the edge of it, and reach down with your hand, and find if you can touch the water. There was a little delay before the reply came. Yes. Be careful. The sharp admonition was from Sax. It's almost level with the shelf I'm on. Your girl continued. Good. Billy's tone was full of satisfaction. That makes it very simple. We shall swim across to you, and then you will guide us from these plutonian shades back to the upper world. He turned toward the companions whom he could not see and addressed them with crisp authority. You will go first, Sax. Her voice will guide you. She's directly across the chamber from us. Be ready afterwards to help us with David when we get there. We shall allow you ample time to, er, climb out before we start to tote Dave. Go ahead. I'm off, Sax answered promptly. Then he called to Margaret. Talk a bit, please, while I'm in the water, so that I'll know the direction. I'm just starting. There was a slight splash as Sax lowered his body into the water, and the soft swish from his strokes as he swam away. Here, Sax, here I am, this way. The girl continued the calls with joy in her tones. Then, a minute later, she heard him speak her name softly at her feet. In another instant he was beside her on the ledge. She was in his arms, their lips met. He had no thought of his dripping garments. Nor had she. They had no knowledge of anything save heaven. Billy Walker's voice went thundering across the cavern. Are you there, Sax? There was no reply. The sage chuckled aloud. The exercise of reason teaches me. He explained in a voluminous whisper, that our dear young friend is not drowned, oh no. As a matter of fact, at this moment he has already got clear of the water and doesn't know where he is, but is happier than he ever was before in his life. When he awakes from the trance he will address us. So in truth it came to pass. Presently the call came from Sax, and the progress of the three across the cavern was safely accomplished. Arrived, they pressed about the girl, who was standing, supported by her lover's arm, and mightily embarrassed by the fervour of their gratitude for the boon of life bestowed on them by her intrepidity and resource. Finally, the five set forth along the ledge, following it as Margaret had come, by groping on the sheer wall from which it jetted. And now the girl no longer went with painful slowness on hands and knees, but walked bravely, upheld by the lover at her side. So at last they came to the spot where Margaret's fall had ended. To their left, seemingly a great way off and high above them, showed the pallid gleam from the bend of the chimney, blessed harbinger of God's light above. Billy Walker surveyed the dim vista of ascent with extreme disfavour. Jake must bring ladders, he declared. Luckily, he's to fetch a long help, a whole crew for the rescue work. Oh yes, I'll wait, I don't mind waiting. The water was warm, and the caverns warm. And anyhow, what clothes don't bother, if one doesn't think of them. But I wish I had a dry cigar and a match. Or I thrust himself forward resolutely. Nonsense, he exclaimed, I'll climb up in a jiffy. He had pulled off his shoes before starting for the first swim with David across the chamber, and now stood up in his stocking feet. I am fond of cliff-climbing. The only trouble with this is, it'll prove too easy. Without more ado, he scrambled upward through the darkness. The others waited anxiously, and breathed a sigh of relief when they saw his form at last silhouetted against the pale light at the bend. His voice came to them muffled. The rest will be quicker, I can see now. Forthwith he vanished. It was May on the solid earth above who heard him, and the happiness of it made her almost fainting. But she held herself sternly, and even managed to quaver in call of his name. For which, when he heard, Roy climbed the faster, and soon these two were in each other's arms, glad beyond measure of gladness. The girl was in terror over the bloodstained bandage about her lover's head, and cried when she learned of the treacherous shot that had wounded him. She cried again, with content that it had been no worse. First of all, she cried for the exquisite bliss of his being alive and holding her in his arms, ruining the daintiest of summer-frocks with his sodden, rock-stained clothes. The strangeness of the spectacle thus presented by the ardent pair arrested the attention of Jake and his crew, who chanced just then to arrive in the launch. So great became the boatman's curiosity that he resolved to investigate before marching his company into the cavern. To this fact, and not to any alertness on the part of the lovers and looking out for the coming of the launch, was due the quickness with which measures of relief were undertaken for those left in the depths. Ropes were hurried to the scene, a lantern was lowered. It was then discovered that the descent was not so very difficult. With the way lighted, and a rope by which to cling, the various members of the party contrived to climb safely to the mouth of the chimney. David went first, with sacks behind, to aid as best he might. David Thwing was next, and last of all by his own choice Billy Walker. If I go last, he explained to David, I'm saved to discomfort of feeling that I ought to be hurrying to get out of somebody's way. After the rescue had been affected, a watch made up from men trusted by the boatman was set over the chimney at Roy's suggestion. Then the four young men, with the two girls, entered the launch to be taken to the cottage. For a change of clothing and luncheon Billy chuckled contentedly, while the other men appeared sheepish, when it was learned that noon remained still an hour distant. But the chances are poor of ever getting that gold after all! Sacks said ruefully, when they were under way. Roy uttered an indignant exclamation. Nothing of the sort, he declared. David and I had the tackle fastened all right, with a knot on the rope to save it from slipping through the block. And we had it hauled tight, too. He laughed amusedly. Why, do you know? That treasure chest has started up the slope already. I'll bet what you like, the shrinking of the rope has brought it out of the pit. A good gang of men can get that chest out in less than a half day. He spoke with the sureness of one having knowledge drawn from experience. That he was right, the issue proved, for the gold was taken out very easily, and stored safely in the bank before nightfall. That evening, in the music-room, Sacks sat playing the miser song of gold, still drumming the harsh phrases he turned and spoke to his friends with a whimsical smile. You know, I rather apologize to you for asking your help in this affair, because it didn't offer anything much in the way of real adventure, but it did turn out a bit lively after all. Came a chorus of laughing assents. We owe masters gratitude for some thrills, David said cheerfully, and anyhow he's got his deserts. Roy was on the point of saying something candid and hence the dead engineer, but his eyes met those of May Thurston, and he forgot hate and remembered only love. Sacks spoke again presently, with a meditative air, though Margaret thought that she could detect a twinkle deep in the gray eyes. Roy was right in his idea about the solution of the mystery coming by psychic impression. It did. The curious part is that the one to receive the subtle suggestion from the world beyond was the last person to be suspected of anything of the kind, a kind so contrary to pure reason. What's that? Billy Walker demanded. Why, about the cipher, Sacks explained placidly. Billy, tell us the truth. Search your memory well. Didn't you first have the idea that the music had something to do with the hiding place of the gold, and then didn't you dig out the reasons to justify that idea after you had it? All the preposterous, the sage began stormily, but Sacks interrupted ruthlessly. Carefully, search your memory, Billy. Didn't the idea come first, the reasons afterward? Aren't you psychically sensitive, Billy Walker? Confess. Psychic? Aye. The seer boomed, outraged. Then his brow became furrowed with thought. His expression changed to one of dismay. Little by little, this wore away. A dawning satisfaction grew in its stead. Finally he spoke aloud to himself. Unconsciously. Psychic? Aye. Well, well. And Billy Walker smiled. Sacks smiled in answer to the smile that was in Margaret's eyes as her glance met his. Then he turned once again to the piano. The rhythm of the miser's song of gold rang out, but now the player touched the harsh measures with a certain grateful gentleness. In and over and about the grim chords he wove dainty or harmonies, lingered often for cadences of passion, wrought a counterpoint of basic love, said above all an exquisite melody, the unison of two hearts. The improvisation welled to a chorale of magnificent praise for that lonely and unhappy man to whose morbid intrigue the player owed not merely a fortune, but something infinitely more. The meeting and the winning of the woman he loved. It's the only tune I ever cared for, quote Billy Walker complacently. End of Chapter 26. End of The Lake Mystery by Marvin Dana.