AN UNEXPECTED ALLY.
A little in front of the lads, and to their left, a slab of rock jutted out from the side of the passage.
From behind this suddenly emerged a tall, gaunt figure. It was no less a personage than Kyle Sparwick.
No doubt Sparwick had also seen the snapping eyes, and it was this which had scared him from his hiding-place.
A low, savage growl rang through the cavern. Sparwick uttered a yell, and dashed forward. In his terror, he probably thought only of flight.
But the glare of the candle led him astray, and he collided blindly with Jerry. Both came to the rocky floor with a crash, and each imagined that the other had attacked him.
The two rolled over and over, locked in a tight embrace, and uttering hoarse cries. Jerry had dropped the rifle; nor could he reach for it, since his hands were needed for other purposes.
With one fist Sparwick pounded his antagonist on the face and breast. Jerry warded off the blows as well as he could, and tried to return them.
“Let me go!” he cried. “Help! help!”
“Let me go,” yelled Sparwick, in shrill tones. “There’s some sort of wild critter in this here place.”
Jerry did not understand what he said. There was a comical side to the struggle, for each was trying to break away, and each imagined that the other was striving to hold him.
Meanwhile, Hamp held the candle and looked on like a piece of statuary. In fact, he did not know what else to do.
“Put the candle down,” yelled Jerry. “Get the rifle and hit this fellow on the head.”
But before Hamp could make a single move toward the execution of this order, he saw something that made his eyes fairly bulge out of their sockets. Where the fiery eyes had been seen a moment before, now appeared a monstrous bear.
The creature was fat, and his short, black fur bristled with rage. He was evidently ravenously hungry, and came swinging down the passage, uttering growl after growl.
Just when bruin was within six feet of them, Jerry and Sparwick caught sight of him. Their yells of fright blended into one. Who broke loose first, it is impossible to say. They tumbled apart, and scrambled in hot haste to their feet. Sparwick slipped back against the wall, and the delay proved fatal.
The bear was right upon him, having risen to his hind legs. A single blow from one of the great paws toppled the unfortunate man over on hands and knees.
Jerry saw the disaster, made a frantic dash, and ran into Hamp’s arms. The latter dropped the candle, and it was extinguished as soon as it struck the floor, plunging the scene in utter darkness.
The first impulse of the terror-stricken lads was to get as far away as possible. But Sparwick’s shrill cries for help checked them. The panicky feeling fled, and they regained their courage and self-possession.
“Hold on!” cried Jerry. “We can’t leave the fellow to such a fate, even if he is a rascal.”
“That’s so,” replied Hamp. “Strike a match, quick!”
Jerry already had the metal box out of his pocket, and the words were barely spoken when the tiny flame of a match pierced the darkness.
Jerry spied the candle as quickly. He grabbed it, and lit the wick. Then the brighter light showed the boys a startling picture.
Ten feet distant stood the bear, still erect on his hind legs. He had his forepaws about Sparwick, and was straining him to his breast. The angry growls of the animal mingled with the shrill, pitiful cries of the man.
“Look, there’s the rifle!” exclaimed Hamp.
It lay two or three feet this side of the bear.
“I see it,” cried Jerry. “Here, take the candle.”
Then, by a swift and clever dash, he captured the weapon and retreated a few paces. He hesitated only long enough to pull back the hammer. Springing forward again, he fearlessly pressed the muzzle of the rifle against the bear’s head, and pulled the trigger.
A frightful report followed. The whole cavern seemed to shake. Flakes of stone and dirt fell from the roof and walls. The boys were dazed and deafened by the sound. The candle was extinguished, and by the time Jerry struck a match and relit it, the powder smoke had lifted.
The bear lay motionless on his back. Sparwick was crawling toward the lads on hands and knees. He stopped, and sat up against the wall of the cavern. His face was deathly pale, and a wheezy, gasping sound came from his lips.
Jerry first satisfied himself that the bear was dead. Then he turned to his former enemy.
“Are you hurt badly?” he asked.
“I reckon not,” replied Sparwick, with a painful effort. “I was purty well squeezed, but I’m gettin’ my breath back now. The critter hit me a lick here, but it ain’t no account.”
He pointed to his left shoulder, from which the coat and shirt had been partially torn away.
“I gave you up for dead,” said Jerry. “It was a close shave.”
“Close ain’t no word for it,” declared Sparwick. “You saved my life, young feller, an’ I ain’t the man to furget it. Words ain’t much in my line, or I might say I was sorry for certain things. Howsomever, here’s what I took from that pardner of your’n.”
He produced the watch and pocketbook, and handed them to the boys.
“Yes; they’re Brick’s,” said Jerry. “But didn’t you see anything of him yourself? He started after you this morning with two men. Hamp and I followed a couple of hours later. Somehow or other we lost their tracks, and got onto yours.”
“Yes; I seen them all,” replied Sparwick, in a peculiar tone. “Your pardner is in a bad way.”
“What do you mean?” cried Hamp and Jerry, in one breath.
Sparwick hesitated an instant to get his wind. Then he related, just as the reader already knows it, the assault on Brick, and the lad’s subsequent abduction.
“How I come ter see it was this way,” he explained, in conclusion. “I traveled purty fast arter leavin’ the Mallowgash, and when I reached that clearing back yonder, I was nearly done out. So I dropped down in the timber an’ bushes for a rest. I hadn’t been there more’n half an hour when the two men an’ the lad come along. Then happened what I just finished tellin’ you. The affair was none of my business, and I couldn’t a-helped the young fellow any if I’d wanted to. I struck back in this direction, an’ first thing I knowed, I broke through the crust, an’ found myself under ground. I was huntin’ the way out when you fellers tumbled in.”
The effect of Sparwick’s story upon Jerry and Hamp may be better imagined than described.
“I thought there was something wrong with those men,” exclaimed Hamp, wrathfully. “They’ve been dogging us ever since we came into the woods.”
“But why did they carry Brick off with them after they had all his money?” asked Jerry. “That’s the strange part of the affair.”
“It beats me, too,” admitted Sparwick. “They had his money, sure enough, fur I seen them countin’ it over. Mebbe they took him along for their own safety, an’ mebbe there’s a worse reason——”
“You don’t think they would kill him?” interrupted Jerry, quickly.
Sparwick looked grave.
“No; I wouldn’t like to say that,” he replied. “But them fellers are bad men, an’ there’s no tellin’ what they might do.”
“You know them?” asked Hamp, in surprise.
“Yes; this many a year. But I wanter hear this whole yarn afore I kin give any opinion.”
Accordingly, Jerry and Hamp related what little there was to tell. Brick’s abduction threw light on some things that had been mysteries before. It was Jerry’s keen wit that identified Joe Bogle with the missionary on the train. Sparwick took the same view of the matter.
“Yes,” he admitted, “I reckon Bogle is the party that tried to rob your friend at Bangor that night. Knowin’ the lad had money, he an’ Raikes planned to follow you chaps into the woods. As I said before, I know the men well. Bogle and Raikes ain’t their right names, for they have a heap of others. But we’ll call ’em that for the present.”
Brick’s abduction was discussed for half an hour longer, but neither Sparwick nor the boys could hit upon a plausible solution.
“Can’t we get out of this place and follow the rascals?” suggested Jerry. “There are three of us, and we have plenty of arms and ammunition.”
“If we do, we’ve got to hurry,” declared Hamp. “They’ve got a big start on us.”
“Look here,” exclaimed Sparwick. “You say this lad has a rich father in New York?”
“Yes,” replied Jerry.
“And the old man would likely fork over handsome if I was to get his son out of a tight place?”
“I suppose he would,” Jerry answered. “If we get all that money back, I’m sure Brick will give you a big reward himself.”
“Well, I’ll do my best,” declared Sparwick, with sudden energy. “I ain’t much on the fight, but I’m purty good on strategy. And that’s how we’ll tackle these fellows. I have an idea where they’ll strike for. If you lads say the word, I’ll lead you right to the spot.”