"It's queer you never heard of it," murmured Ned, looking over some papers he hastily took from his pocket.
"For the love of Pete! Heard of what?" cried Tom, a bit exasperated by his chum's curious manner.
"Dismal Mountain! The peak of mystery!" exclaimed Ned. "If you haven't made any other plans after you pay Mary a visit, what's the matter with keeping on to Dismal Mountain?"
"Nothing the matter, as far as I can see," admitted Tom. "But it is the first time I've ever heard of the beast and I'd like a little information. Why is the mountain dismal and what's the mystery about it?"
"It's dismal because of the mystery," was the reply. "And as for what that is, smarter lads than you have asked the question and haven't been answered."
"Oh, cut it out! Be yourself!" advised Tom, with a laugh. "Get down to brass tacks and let's have a little first hand information."
"That I can't give you, much as I'd like to," said Ned, with a serious air, not at all in keeping with Tom's bantering words. "All I know about Dismal Mountain is what I've heard or read, but that's plenty. I've made a few notes here, and——"
"I should say you had!" exclaimed Tom, looking at the documents his chum pulled from his pocket. "Looks like an election ballot."
"Well, they're mostly clippings from papers," went on Ned; "though I have made some notes myself of what folks have told me. Look here! Those are some newspaper clippings."
He spread a sheaf of them out on the table in the living room of the House on Wheels where this talk was taking place. The House was in the garage, but was all ready to run out at a moment's notice.