Boy Scouts in California; or, The Flag on the Cliff

by G. Harvey Ralphson

The tragedy enacted before his eyes during the next hour informed him fully on this point.

In a short time Sigma returned to the entrance of the old channel and held up eight fingers to Toombs. His face showed surprise at seeing the Wall street man at the bottom of the pit. After giving the signal he stood with his head bowed for a moment, as if in deep thought, and then turned back into the tunnel.

It was then that the real purpose of the Wall street man became known. He threw off his coat and vest and began filling the channel leading to the crevice, now carrying away the waters of the pool! He worked frantically until the sweat streamed down his face in tiny rivulets, notwithstanding the cool air of the mountain.

At first he dug away with his fingers, but that appeared to be too slow a process for his eager haste. There were pieces of shale lying about which the boys had used the previous afternoon, and with these he made much better progress.

Although it had taken the boys a long time to dig the trench connecting the pool with its original outlet, it was by no means difficult for Toombs to fill in the channel in a very short time. Slowly but steadily the waters of the pool lifted as the obstructions in its channel forced the water toward the level of the old outlet.

While the man worked nervously, strenuously, and with such strength as he would never have been able to exhibit at ordinary times, Jimmie saw the dark face of Sigma appear at the opening. The Indian stood for an instant with folded hands as he saw what Toombs was doing.

“It’s all up with the fat Wall street man now!” Jimmie mused. “The Indians are wise to the fact that his only purpose in sending Sigma in was to bunch those possessing information of the mine and drown them all like a lot of baby cats. What they’ll do to him now will be a plenty. I wouldn’t be in his shoes for a good deal.”

So busily was Toombs engaged in his work that he did not hear the smothered ejaculations or the soft footsteps of the Indian as he crept up behind him. It was evident that he believed the Indians to be all massed in the gold chamber.

When, at last, he was seized in the muscular grasp of the Indian, the boy saw him smile, evidently trying to explain away his actions. Sigma shook his head and uttered a peculiar cry. The next moment seven Indians came from the entrance and gathered around the now crestfallen Wall street man.

There was not much talk. In fact, Jimmie could not hear a word that was spoken. All he knew was that there was no delay. The Indians took up the work of filling the channel which Toombs had begun. Then, when it was quite full and the water was roaring and swirling into the entrance so recently vacated, they bound Toombs hand and foot and cast him into the torrent.