Fenn Masterson's Discovery Part 25

The boys, in the excitement of the chase, had gone farther into the woods than they had antic.i.p.ated on starting out. Consequently it was later than they expected when they got to where they saw landmarks that told them they were near camp.

"It's only about half a mile farther now," remarked Bart.

"Give a yell," suggested Ned. "Fenn will hear it and know we are coming."

The three chums united their voices in a loud hallo; and, when the echoes had died away, they listened for an answering cry. None came, and the woods were silent, save for the noises made by birds flitting here and there in the branches of the trees.

"He didn't hear us," said Ned. "Try again."

"Maybe--maybe he isn't there," suggested Frank, in a low voice.

"Of course he is!" declared Ned. "Maybe he's asleep."

"I guess he didn't hear us," suggested Bart. "The wind is blowing the wrong way. Let's yell again."

Once more they shouted, but with no effect. There came no answering hail.

"Come on!" called Frank, increasing his speed. The boys spoke but seldom during the remainder of the tramp to camp. When they came in sight of the tent they strained their eyes for a sight of their chum.

He was nowhere to be seen.

"Probably he's inside, lying down," spoke Ned.

It needed but a glance within the canvas shelter, to show that Fenn was not there. In the gathering dusk Frank gave a hasty glance about the locality. The embers of what had been the campfire, were cold. There was no sign that Fenn had been there recently, or that he had made any preparations to receive his chums.

"He must have gone off in the woods and forgotten to come back,"

suggested Bart. "Maybe he went hunting on his own account."

"If he had, he'd have taken his gun," replied Frank, pointing to where the weapon stood in a corner of the tent.

"Then he's out for a walk," declared Bart.

"He's staying rather late," commented Frank. "I hope--"

Frank did not finish his sentence. Suddenly, he darted forward and picked up something off the ground.

"What is it?" asked Bart.

For answer Frank held it out on the palm of his hand. It was a small object and the two boys had to bend close to see what it was. They saw one of the peculiar bra.s.s b.u.t.tons that serve to hold the loops with which a Chinese blouse is fastened.

"A Chinese b.u.t.ton!" exclaimed Bart, in a whisper.

"The Chinamen have been here!" added Ned.

"It looks as if the smugglers had Fenn," said Frank solemnly. "They must have sneaked in here and carried him off!"

CHAPTER XXII

FENN'S MISHAP

Fenn had not gone very far, in pursuit of the two Chinamen and their white companion, before he became aware that he was not as strong as he thought he was. In his legs there was strange trembling, and his head felt dizzy.

"I guess I was sicker than I imagined," he said to himself, as he kept doggedly on. "But I'll trail 'em. I'm going to find out where they are staying, how they get to the cliff, and what it's all about."

Ahead of him Fenn could hear the trio making their way through the underbrush. They seemed to be following some trail, as there was a faintly-defined path through the woods at this point.

"They must be preparing to smuggle in a s.h.i.+pload of Chinese," thought Fenn. "Probably it's the same gang we scared off farther down the lake.

They've come up here. Oh, if I had some way of sending word to a government detective, I could catch 'em in the very act! But, if I can find out where the landing place is I can show the officers how to get to it. That is, if they don't take the alarm and skip out. They must know me by this time."

The trail was becoming more difficult to follow. It still led toward the lake and Fenn was sure he was on the right track. Already he had visions of what he would do with the reward money, after he had given his chums their shares.

"Whew! But I'm getting tired!" exclaimed the lad, after making his way through a particularly thick bit of underbrush. "I wish some of the fellows were along to take up the chase. I wonder if they're going much farther?"

He paused a moment to rest, and listened intently for a sound of the retreating footsteps of those ahead of him.

"Why," he exclaimed, after a second or two. "I can't hear them!"

There were no sounds save those made by the birds and small beasts of the forest.

"They've distanced me!" Fern exclaimed. "I couldn't keep up with them!

Now I've lost track of them! What shall I do?"

He was trembling, partly from excitement, and partly from nervousness and weakness. A mist seemed to come before his eyes. He looked about him and saw, off to the left, a little hill.

"I'll climb that, and see if I can catch a glimpse of them," he said, speaking aloud. The sound of his own voice seemed to bring his confidence back to him. His legs lost their trembling and he felt stronger.

Up to the summit of the hill he made his way, finding it a more toilsome climb than he had imagined. He reached the top. Below him, stretched out like a narrow ribbon of gray on a background of green, was the little trail he had been following, and which had been taken by the three men.

It wound in and out among the woods, extending toward the lake, a glimpse of the s.h.i.+ning water of which Fenn could just catch.

Something moving on the trail caught his eye. He looked intently at it, and, the next moment he exclaimed:

"There they are! They're hurrying along as if a whole band of detectives was after them, instead of me alone. Now to see if I can't catch up to them."

He gave one more look at the two Celestials and the white man, who, every moment were nearing their goal, and then, hurried down the other side of the hill, to cut across through the woods at the foot, and so reach the trail.

Fenn had not gone more than a dozen steps when suddenly, having made a jump over a large boulder in his path, he came down rather heavily on the other side, in the midst of a clump of ferns.

There was a curious sinking of the ground, as though it had caved in.

Fenn felt himself falling, down, down, down! He threw out his hands, and tried to grab something. He grasped a bunch of fern, but this went down with him.

"Help! Help!" he instinctively called, though he knew no one was within hearing, save, perhaps, those three strange men, and he did not believe they would help him if they did hear his calls for aid.

Fenn was slipping and sliding down some inclined chute that seemed to lead from the summit of the hill, into the interior of the earth. It was so dark he could see absolutely nothing and all he could feel around him were walls of dirt.

They seemed strangely smooth, and he wondered how he could slide over them and not feel b.u.mps from rough stones which must surely be jutting out here and there from the sides of the shaft down which he had tumbled.