Still she led them on through the darkness. Never for a moment did she hesitate; she seemed to have the eyes of an owl.
All at once they heard the sound of gently running water.
"Is there a stream near?" asked Frank.
"Lost Creek runs through har," answered the girl.
"Lost Creek? Why, we are still underground."
"An' Lost Creek runs underground. Have ye fergot that?"
So the mysterious stream flowed through this cavern, and the cave was near one of the illicit distilleries.
Frank cared to know no more, for he did not believe it was healthy to know too much about the makers of moonshine.
It was not long before they approached the mouth of the cave. They saw the opening before them, and then, of a sudden, a dark figure arose there—the figure of a man with a gun in his hands!