The Adventure Girls at K Bar O

by Clair Blank

She was tired, but rolled in her blanket in the silent cabin, Gale found she could not sleep. All desire for sleep had left her and her mind was active. The other girls were sleeping, she supposed Tom and Jim were too, out in their tent. But her ears magnified a thousandfold each crackling of a log and each creak of the floor sent expectant shivers along her spine. She realized then she was waiting for the ghost of the cabin to return. She was sure he would. No self-respecting ghost would stop after such a mild attempt to frighten them away if he was really anxious to be rid of them. But who was it that was playing ghost? The bank bandit? Hardly. Whoever it was, why did he want people to stay away from the cabin? From where she lay, she looked around at the room. She could see nothing that anyone might wish to keep from prying eyes.

Quietly she threw back her blanket and stood up. Tiptoeing, she went to the door and stepped outside. Stentorian snores were coming from the little tent. Tom and Jim were in dreamland. Smiling, she leaned against the door and stared up at the stars overhead. The storm had cleared and there was not a cloud in the sky. The stars hung low like brightly lighted lanterns. The moon cast its silver light on the earth, causing huge black shadows under trees and behind the cabin and the shanty set apart.

Standing in the darkness, the wind ruffling her hair, gray eyes alight with a hint of the brightness of the stars in their depth, Gale sighed with sheer enjoyment of the scene. She had never before realized that a spot such as this, away from the noise and the people of the world, could be so lovely. It was almost like standing on the edge of the world. Behind her towered high and mighty mountains, before her lay a sea of moon-swept valley. Born and brought up in the little town of Marchton, Gale had known some outdoor life, but never the breathless beauty and limitless quiet of a night in Arizona. Quiet had she thought? Far away a coyote howled and yet another. She shivered. The sound was so--uncivilized. The cry of that animal was like a call straight from the wild untamed world of which she knew nothing.

Gale was staring at the dark little shanty that Tom had said was doubtless the entrance to the old miner’s mine. She wondered if the man had ever realized his dream of great wealth, the dream he doubtless had when he settled here and began to dig. A shadow, a moving shadow, had detached itself from the spot of darkness which was the shanty and was going toward a thick clump of trees. Instantly Gale stiffened to attention. Who was it? Certainly it was no ghost, for no ghost was ever so solid. Was it the one who had tried to frighten them from the cabin? Certainly he had not tried very hard. Perhaps he was coming back later for a second attempt. Were there more mysterious men in the shaft to the mine? Gale had a sudden impulse to call Tom or Jim to investigate that shadow. No, she would investigate it herself, she decided. The man was out of sight now, lost in the blackness of the trees and she moved forward.

It was not far from the shadow of the cabin to the protecting darkness of the shanty and Gale covered it quickly. She did not want to be seen by that other sleuthing person. She preferred to do her detecting unseen and unknown. Her exploring fingers found the latch, consisting of a nail and a piece of string, and in a minute the shanty door swung to behind her. It was dark and silent in here. From her jacket pocket she took a small flashlight. Ever since she and Phyllis had been lost in the cave she had carried her light with her, rather than leaving it rolled in her slicker. Now she was glad she had it. The little circle of light revealed a pair of worn wooden steps leading downward. Gale listened intently and when she heard nothing that indicated another’s presence, descended into the passage. It was nothing like the big coal mines she had read and seen pictures of. It was merely a tunnel that had been hewed out of the ground with pick and shovel. If the ground had once held a fortune of silver, it gave no evidence of it now. She had to stoop, so low was the ceiling, as she picked her way along over rocks and débris.

Suddenly the thin ray of light from her lamp wavered and she noticed that it had grown dim. The battery was growing weak and would not last much longer. She switched it off. She must save it so she would have at least enough light to find her way back to the entrance. That was where she made her mistake. Creeping along in darkness, she did not see the black hole ahead and when her foot touched empty air, fell head foremost down--down--several feet.

For a moment she lay stunned with the unexpectedness of her fall. Too, the jar of landing had knocked all collected thought from her head. Slowly she sat up and felt for an injury. Nothing but bruises, thank goodness. She had dropped her flashlight and had to feel out with her hands along the damp earth until she found it. She hoped fervently that the drop had not put it entirely out of commission. No, when she pressed the little button, a feeble ray of light shot out. The light was bright enough to see that she had fallen into a pit of some sort that stretched away out behind her into darkness which the lamp would not penetrate.

She got to her feet and endeavored to shake some of the dirt from her clothes. It was a risk to go forward without a light, but a glance at the wall of dirt and rock had shown her that she could never hope to climb up to where she had been before her fall. There was no course but to explore this passage here and to hope that that mysterious shadow did not decide to come back into the mine immediately. But perhaps he had friends in here, friends that would not welcome her intrusion. The very thought that any minute she might stumble upon some mysterious, fearful unknown made her nervous and she proceeded with greater caution.

Gale endeavored to readjust her sense of direction, which had been somewhat confused with her fall, to find in what direction this passage led. If she was correct, and she believed she was, it should lead across to directly beneath the cabin where her friends were sleeping. In that case, the man she had seen might have been the “ghost” who with his mysterious knocks and screams had frightened them. But, remembering the fall which she had had, how did he get down to this lower passage, and once down here, how did he get up again? She had not been able to find any means of gaining the higher level. She halted and switched her flashlight on again. The light was failing rapidly and she dared to keep it on only a moment. But in that moment she had switched it overhead and seen the row of four or five boards which she was sure were part of the floor of the cabin. She sought a rock and hurled it up against the boards, ducking as it rebounded back at her. She followed it with another and then another.

“The ghost is back again,” said a nervous voice which she recognized as Janet’s.