Hunting For Hidden Gold Part 13

Joe looked toward the sky. It was dark now and they were a long distance up Windy Peak. "What'll we do, Frank?" he asked.

"The only thing we can do," said his brother, "is spend the night here. Tomorrow we might manage to find some trace of Big Al. I want to know if he's dead or alive."

"I do, too!" Joe exclaimed.

"We'll have to make camp," Frank said, "but first we'd better do something about our horses."

"Yes, and Big Al's, too," Joe added, pointing toward the outlaw's fine roan that was still ground-hitched.

The boys gathered the three animals together, rode back to the fork, and secured the horses to rocks.

"These old fellows will provide us with a good warning system," Frank remarked.

"How?" his brother asked.

Frank explained his idea. "We'll leave them here and go part way back along the trail to make camp. If Al is alive he'll have to come past here, since all three trails meet at this spot. He'll want his roan, anyway.

The horses would be sure to whinny and waken us."

"Good scheme!" said Joe. "We'll camp at the Rock Motel!"

"Every comfort and all for free," Frank joked.

The boys ate, fed the horses, then carted their bedrolls and meager supplies to a sheltered spot and quickly spread out the blankets. Though the brothers were tired, sleep was slow in coming.

"I can't help wondering if Big Al is tricking us again," Frank said uneasily as he was finally drifting off.

He dreamed several times about the outlaw and tried to figure out why he and Joe had not seen Big Al's body in the gorge. Both boys slept fitfully through the night.

As the blackness of the sky began to lighten with the coming of dawn, they got up and ate a cold but nouris.h.i.+ng breakfast of oranges, oatmeal cookies, and egg flakes. Refreshed, the boys walked toward the edge of the cliff over which Big Al had disappeared.

"We may be able to see something more in the daylight," Joe remarked.

Frank had been staring into the gray, lowering sky. "I doubt if there's anything to see," he observed.

"What do you mean?"

Frank scanned the sky once more. "I think we've been fooled again," he answered. "If there had been a body down in the gorge, there'd be carrion birds flying around."

"Of course," said Joe.

"I wondered about it last night, but thought maybe because it was so late there wouldn't be any birds at work. But some would be here this morning, if there was anything to attract them."

"Let's look over the edge again," Joe suggested.

The brothers dropped to their stomachs and crept as close as they could to the rim. By leaning well over it, they could look almost to the base of the cliff.

"See anything, Joe?"

"Not a thing."

Suddenly, from far below, came the rattle of small pebbles. A great black raven flew out of the precipice.

"There must be a nest in the cliff!" Joe cried out.

The boys edged forward over the rough stones. They held on as tightly as possible before leaning over to locate the nest.

"There it is!" exclaimed Frank.

Below them in a recess that nature had torn in the cliffside was the bird's nest and alongside it enough room to give a man shelter.

"That was Big Al's hiding place!" Frank said grimly. "He swung down there to the left and probably got away during the night."

Frank and Joe crawled back from the cliff's edge until they could stand up in safety.

"He fooled us all right," said Frank. "I wonder how long it was before he left here."

"Maybe," Joe suggested, "it depended on the horses. I'll bet he waited until just before dawn and then stole them!"

Frank was angry. "Of course. His horse would know him, and since the three animals have been together and gotten to be friends, none of them would whinny an alarm. I should have realized that."

The boys dashed for the fork. Their guess had been right! The horses were gone! And taken up the steeper branch!

"Al did trick us!" Frank chided himself.

"Now he's really got us in a spot," murmured his brother. "Do we head for home or trail him?"

"Trail him," Frank decided promptly. "We'll have to walk, of course."

"Can we make it up there?" Joe sounded worried.

"I don't know, but we'll have to try."

The brothers huddled in the shelter of a rock to discuss the situation. What lay ahead? They realized it might be a long and treacherous climb -perhaps another night without hot food and proper shelter. They noticed it was growing colder and that was a bad sign too. It was not only going to be uncomfortable for the Hardy boys, but they could easily freeze to death!

"Come on, Joe!" Frank said resolutely as he started up the steep trail. "We're not going to let Big Al get away!"

Joe joined his brother and together they started the climb along this part of Ambush Trail. The turns were abrupt and the wind whistled sharply. Once Joe had to s.n.a.t.c.h Frank back when the wind nearly blew him over the edge.

For hours the boys toiled along the trail, following the string of horseshoe prints. During the afternoon, the marks made an abrupt turn that opened onto a plateau. It was almost completely surrounded by jagged outcroppings of rocks. The boys ducked down out of the strong wind which had swept the area almost clean of snow.

Suddenly their eyes bulged as they spotted a small cabin that lay nestled in the center of the little plateau!

From its chimney came a thin wisp of smoke.

"Somebody's here!" said Joe excitedly, and instinctively began to run.

"Wait!" Frank warned. "It might be Big Al. We'd better approach cautiously. Say, Joe-look!"

On a ridge beyond the cabin was a single weather-beaten pine tree.

"The lone pine!" Joe exclaimed.

"Yes," said Frank, "and if it is, that building might be Mike Onslow's cabin-now occupied by Big All"

CHAPTER XVII.

The Secret Listener As THE boys paused uncertainly, pondering their next move, the cabin door opened. A tall, white-haired man strode out and waved to them.

"Hi there!" he called. "Looking for shelter?"

The boys gasped as they recognized him.

"It's Mr. Dodge!" Joe exclaimed.

"Can we trust him?" Frank muttered. "If he is in cahoots with the gang, Big Al may be in there, waiting to jump us."

Joe shot his brother a quick glance. "If we run for it, they may come after us shooting!"

"Guess we'll have to play this by ear," Frank said in a low voice. "Better pretend we don't suspect anything-but be ready to act fast if we spot a trap."

The Hardys walked toward the cabin.

"What are you doing up here, Mr. Dodge?" Joe asked when they drew closer.

A bewildered look came over the man's face. "Dodge?" he repeated. "My name is Dawson-Bart Dawson. I worked a claim up here with Mike Onslow and the Coulson brothers."

The boys stopped short in astonishment.

"That's right," Dodge went on. His manner seemed strange. "I-I'd better explain," he added. "Come on inside and I'll tell you the whole story. Maybe you boys can help me."

Frank and Joe looked at each other. Both had a hunch as to what Dodge was about to tell them.

"Okay, let's go," Frank murmured to Joe.

The brothers entered and Dodge closed the door. The cabin had a "lived-in" appearance. There were cans of food and other supplies on the shelves, and a pile of firewood beside the potbelly stove.

"Sit down, boys."

Frank and Joe found chairs, but Dodge remained standing. He sighed and ran his fingers through his thick shock of white hair, as if he scarcely knew how to begin. He had a livid, swollen bruise on his right temple.

"Can you lads imagine what it's like to wake up suddenly and not know where you are or how you got there?" the big man said at last. "To have a complete blank in your memory?"

"A blank twenty-five years long?" Joe put in.

Dodge looked startled. "I don't know how you guessed it, son, but you must be just about right.

Last time I recall, I was a young man with red hair and a beard. Also I was very skinny. But now when I see myself"-he gestured toward a small cracked mirror-"my hair's white, I'm years older, and I'm much heavier."

"Do you recognize us?" Frank queried.

The man shook his head. "No-and I've been wondering why you called me Dodge."

"Because you've been going under the name of Bob Dodge," Frank replied.

"Same initials-B.D.-but a different ident.i.ty," Joe added.

After introducing himself and his brother, Frank went on, "You spoke about waking up suddenly.

Where?"

"In some woods near a cabin," the man answered. "Felt as if I'd hit my head-or been hit -and there was a big swelling on my temple. Do you fellows know what happened?"

"You were conked with a flashlight," Joe told him.

Frank leaned forward and asked, "Can't you remember anything about a fight inside a cabin?"

Bart Dawson frowned in deep thought. Finally he shook his head. "No. I tried to figure how I'd got to the woods, but nothing came back to me."

"What did you do next?" Frank said.

"Well, I staggered out of the woods. It was dark, but I was close to someone's cabin. I knocked on the door, but-no answer."

"Is that any reason to steal two horses?" Joe asked accusingly.

Dawson flushed. "You seem to know all my actions. I guess it was pretty highhanded, helping myself like that. But believe me, I intended to bring them back."

"Just why did you take them?" Frank asked. "If you were confused, you could have gone into town for help."

"I guess so," Dawson admitted. "But the main street was dark and no one seemed to be stirring. Besides, I-well, I'd have felt pretty foolish waking people up and confessing I was mixed up.

"All I knew," the man went on, "was that my name was Bart Dawson and I had to find my partners fast.

It seemed terribly urgent for me to get back up here to our cabin on Windy Peak. There were two horses in the stable, so I helped myself to 'em and hit the trail. I took the pack horse," he added, "because it was carrying blankets and a few supplies which I figured I might need in case I got lost and had to camp in the open."

"When did you arrive here?" Frank asked.

"Yesterday afternoon. The place was empty, but there was some food."

Frank and Joe concluded this was the gang's hideout.

"When I saw myself in the mirror," Dawson went on, "I realized how many years must have gone by." His voice broke. He slumped down on a bunk and put his head in his hands. "If you boys can fill me in at all,"