“Well, if anything happens it’s your fault.”
The boys had not penetrated many hundred feet into what was, undoubtedly a tunnel under the hill, or mountain, before they saw unmistakable signs that water had, at no distant time, flowed there. Marks on the floor and walls showed them this, and there were, on rocky ledges several feet up from the floor, masses of dried sticks, leaves and other debris that indicated how the tunnel stream, at times, rose to higher levels. In receding, this debris was left caught in cracks and on ledges.
“But where is the river now?” asked Chot, for there was no sign of moisture. The sides and bottom of the tunnel were very dry.
“I think some one took it,” was Rick’s answer.
“But where is the river now?” asked Chot.
“You do? Took it?”
“Sure! I mean some one has changed the course of this stream. Lost River used to run through this tunnel. Now it doesn’t, and some one blasted out a lot of rocks from the end where we just came in and piled them up to hide the tunnel. I believe some one wanted the water of this river for their own mines, or maybe for farm irrigation, and they just changed the course of it.”
“How could they?”
“That’s what we’ve got to find out,” said Rick. “Come on, it may be a long way to the other end.”