The sudden appearance of the company, the flashing blades, the savage yells, the glint of sun on rifle and pistol would have proved most disconcerting to any one lurking in the valley or the caves, while the noise made by the two-hundred-pound sailor lumbering through the dense undergrowth must have sounded like the onslaught of a score of men. In fact, it was the sudden rush, the surprise, the reckless charge which Rawlins had counted on to win the day, for he had seen the value of such tactics on the Flanders battle front and on one occasion, with but two companions, had captured a German machine gun and crew without a scratch, by just such methods.
To reach the bottom of the hill, dash across the valley, cross the bridge and rush up the short slope to the mouth of the cave took less time than to tell of it, but before the bridge was gained Jules and his men were beside Rawlins, Mr. Pauling was at his heels, and the boys were but a few paces in the rear. Heedless of shots that might come from the cave at any instant, Rawlins and the half-crazed negroes tore up the slope, dodged back of the palms, and with a yell leaped into the cavern with upraised blades and cocked weapons. But not a shot echoed through the rocky chamber, not a blow was struck, not a voice answered Rawlins’ demand for surrender. The cave was empty, deserted, silent as the tomb!
For an instant Rawlins stood gaping about, while the negroes lowered their weapons, drew back a step as though afraid, and jabbered excitedly among themselves. Then the diver grabbed off his hat, hurled it on the floor of the cave and swore volubly and vehemently.
“Of all the rotten luck!” he cried as Mr. Pauling and the others reached the cave panting and out of breath. “They’ve gone! Vamoosed! Cleared out! Given us the slip! That was a sub we saw. Another one. They were wise to us.”
As he spoke, he strode into the cave and the next instant gave a shout. “Look here!” he yelled. “Regular hang-out! Electric lights, beds, billiard tables, and by Jiminy! even a phonograph and a piano!”
It was perfectly true. Just within the entrance of the cavern, a heavy curtain was hung across and beyond this the great, vaulted, subterranean chamber was furnished with every luxury and convenience. There were no partitions—merely draperies and curtains of rich tapestry, satin and plush, but no palace on earth could boast such a ceiling with its vast arches, its thousands of gleaming, snow-white and cream-tinted stalactites and no millionaire’s mansion ever had such walls of scintillating, multicolored dripstone that gleamed and sparkled like myriads of jewels in the light of the clusters of incandescent lamps.
The floor, covered with upjutting stalagmites, had been chiseled and chipped smooth, leaving the shorter columns as supports for tables, stands for rare vases and beautiful statuary, while the great columns where stalactites and stalagmites joined were surrounded by luxurious cushioned seats and hung with pictures. At one side was a grand piano, in a corner was a Victrola, and in two smaller chambers were brass beds and luxurious bedroom furnishings. At every step the boys and their elders exclaimed in wonder and admiration at the luxury and richness of the furnishings of the great cavern. Beyond the first hall was a smaller, narrower chamber, equipped with a huge range and the latest cooking and kitchen devices; beyond this was a small connecting cave where a dynamo and gasoline motor were installed, while far overhead, in the most remote corner, was a tiny aperture in the roof. Presently Rawlins, who had been nervously and hurriedly searching everywhere in the hopes of routing out at least one member of the gang, gave a ringing cry which instantly brought the others to his side.
“There’s the secret to the place!” he announced triumphantly, pointing down from a ledge of rock whereon he stood. “There’s their get-away. I’ll say, they’re clever!”
At this spot, the floor of the cabin came to an abrupt end, dropping in a sheer precipice some fifty feet to a huge pool of dark blue water. But from the verge of the wall a slender ladder led down, its foot resting on a narrow ledge of rock in which several large ringbolts were set. Scattered upon the ledge were coils of rope, tackle blocks, a broken oar, some wire cables and other boat-gear, while beyond, and so perfectly reflected in the glass-like pool that it appeared like a complete circle, was an arched opening with a sunlit strip of water visible through it.
“Get the idea?” asked Rawlins, as the others gazed about. “There’s their dock and there’s where they came in and went out with their sub. But not with that big one that’s knocked galley west out in the lagoon. No, this old boy lived in some style I’ll say—didn’t practice all the socialist Bolshevist stuff he preached, I guess—and had his own private sub, instead of a limousine, tied up handy at his back door. Hello! There’s a paper down there! By crickey! perhaps they dropped something!”