"There's where we're going," said Chub, pointing to the tunnel, "but we're ahead of time and——"
"Well, maybe the other fellow's ahead of time, too," broke in Matt. "Let's go up and see."
Leaving their machines against the rocks, the boys climbed a twenty-foot bank and arrived at the mouth of the tunnel. There was no one waiting for them, and Matt and Chub sat down on a couple of boulders to pass the time until some one should come.
"Who are you expecting to see, anyhow?" asked Chub.
"Don't know," replied Matt, "but certainly it's some one who's able and willing to give us a helping hand."
"Yes; and then again, Matt, it may be those two men who tried to corral us at the break in the road. Burke hasn't found them yet, or he'd have told you about it long before this. Suppose they're working a dodge on us?"
This was a startling suggestion, but Matt wouldn't take any stock in it.
"You're forgetting the writing, Chub," said he. "That first note, and the last one, were both by the same fist. There's no doubt about it."
The time passed quickly—all too quickly for the anxious boys who were hoping for so much from their interview with the Unknown.
Eight-thirty came, then a quarter to nine, and Matt's spirits were fast falling, when there was a noise inside the tunnel. Both boys started quickly, and exchanged significant glances. The sounds were like the swishing fall of moccasined feet, and were approaching steadily along the dark passage.