Beckoning them, I went into the trees. We worked our way up, and in low tones I explained what we were looking for. If we could hide in the cave, and then attack after they had passed.
There! Under an aspen, clearly cut into the earth, the right side of a heel print–the corner of the heel, the line of the side, and a slight bit of the curve at back. A small sign, but sufficient. Lucinda had come up the slope then, and through the trees in the darkness. Why?
Looking ahead, I saw nothing but the slim columns of the aspen, a few young spruce growing in their shelter, and a crisscrossing of fallen trees. The slope was steep. The light was better now.
A camp-robber jay was keeping us company on the lower branches. Once we heard a faint sound and saw an elk moving away, just vanishing.
The trees thinned out. Before us was a rocky face, some broken, fallen rock on the ground, and in the sandy soil near the cliff face another track, a moccasin track of a wide foot, toeing out somewhat.
Van Runkle! We followed on and found Lucinda’s track, well defined, again.
Van Runkle had Lucinda. I said it aloud and Isaac looked over at me. “Who is he?” Explaining, I added, “He’s been looking for the treasure, too. And he means to have it.” “We’d better find ’em then, an’ almighty quick. You can’t tell about a man like that.” We started again, searching for the cave, following the tracks.
And startled by this discovery, we forgot what we should have remembered.
Rafen Falvey and his men were coming up behind us.
CHAPTER 19
It was a moment of carelessness that saved us. They were still a good thirty yards off and most of them were among the trees when one of them stepped on a dry branch. It cracked, and I turned more swiftly than I have ever turned, and dropping to one knee, I fired.
The bullet took the first man high in the chest.
Ebitt was a dozen feet to my right, and at the crack of the dead branch, he dove into the brush.
Isaac, only an instant behind me, fired also.
It was point-blank range and I believe they had not seen us for they were slow in returning our fire. Isaac went into the trees only a step behind me, and the crack of Ebitt’s rifle from the brush caused another man to reel and fall. He scrambled up and ran, however, injured but not seriously. But our fire made them all take to the brush.
Once under cover, we scrambled to find the cave, which must be within a few yards of us. Oddly enough we passed its opening several times before we saw it, and then it was Isaac who glimpsed it first.
One after another we crawled in. The opening was large enough for one man only, and nobody was going to try to enter there with armed men waiting inside. That would not preclude them firing into the cave, however.
We looked around, straining our eyes against the gloom. The rear wall of the cavern was no more than thirty feet from the opening, but there was a wide gap to the left and several openings led off from it.
Ebitt crouched, studying the sandy floor in the dim light.
“There’s tracks,” he said, “and they go into t one!” We walked to the opening. There was a faint stir of cool air from the opening. “We’ll need a torch,” Heath commented. “Back from the opening, a body can’t see nothing.” “Wait,” I said, loading my Ferguson.
One hand felt for my pistol, and it was there.
We could hear shouts and yells from outside, the sounds of men crashing in the brush. Heath moved closer to me. “Seen some small boot-tracks.
Likely to be Lucinda’s.” “All right,” I said. “Look around, Isaac. You might find something for a torch.
Others have come this way and they’d need light.” Suddenly I remembered. “Be careful! There may be a drop off!” Their voices receded, and for the moment I was alone. The temperature of the cave was cool, but not unpleasant. Rifle in hand, I sat watching the circle of light that was the entrance. I was tired. For days I had been riding, running, climbing, and now it was reaching me. No sound came from outside. Had they gone away? Or were they sitting outside, waiting for us to appear? And where were the others? Where were Solomon, Bob, Degory and Jorge?
Isaac returned. For several minutes I heard his feet coming along the passage before I saw him. “We’ve found some pine knots. Quite a store of them.” “Then we’ll go.” He turned and I straightened up, stretching a little. The butt of the Ferguson touched the rock wall and I turned to look.
A Maltese Cross.
Chipped into the wall, and not recently, by the look of it. A Maltese Cross with one side of a cross bar longer than the other. Accident?
Or intent?
No footprints in the sand led into t tunnel. I hesitated, staring into the blackness.
From down the other passage, Heath called, “You comin’?” “In a minute.” Van Runkle had warned of deep wells within this cave. Was it true? Or merely a means to prevent my wandering and searching?
I took a step into the blackness. The air was cool. It seemed to be dead air… or did I feel a ghost of movement? Another step, my hand upon the wall, my rifle point probing ahead of me.
Nothing. I took another step, and my foot kicked a small fragment fallen from the wall, or carried in on the mud of a boot. The stone hit something, then fell. A long time later I heard it hit, something far down below me, and then again, still farther. A still longer time, then a splash.
Very carefully, I stepped back, then turned and retreated into the dim light of the entrance cave.
Was that where the treasure was? Or was it a deathtrap deliberately planned for the curious or the searcher after gold?
Enough for now. Somewhere Lucinda might need us, and her life was more precious than whatever gold there might be. I walked swiftly along the passage until I saw a glow of light ahead.
Isaac and Cusbe waited, both with lighted pine knots. Taking another from the goodly pile, I lighted it also and we started along the tunnel at a good clip. A hundred feet of slowly enlarging tunnel, then a vast room. But an opening was directly opposite and we crossed the room, seeing the scar of a footprint in the dripping from the rocks above.
When we had gone some distance, we saw light ahead. We smothered our torches, and stepping into the lead, I walked on.
We found ourselves in a roomy, pleasant cave. There were several bearskins about, one of them on a bench with other furs. And the first thing we saw was Van Runkle. He was seated on a skincovered seat of some sort, with a shotgun in his hands, and he was watching us. Lucinda sat on the bearskin against the wall.
“Thank you for taking care of Miss Falvey,” I said quietly. “It was good of you, sir.” His shrewd eyes appraised us.
“Ain’t said as I was,” he replied. “Mebbe I’m a-holdin’ her. Right nice filly, that one. Better’n a squaw.” “I agree. She’s a handsome lass. And we, my friends and I, have taken it upon ourselves to find what she came here to get, and then to escort her to a place in civilization where she can live as a young lady should.” “Nice of you.” He took his pipe from his mouth with his left hand. “Right nice. If’n I decide to let her go.” “And as one gentleman to another, I know you will.
The young lady is far from home and relatives.
Naturally she’s frightened–was “I am not!” She held her head proudly, her chin lifted a little. “I’m not afraid of him.
He brought me here when I was cold and tired, and he’s been very kind.” “Of course. Mr. Van Runkle and I have met before, and he is kind, and a gentleman, as I suggested.
“Now, sir, I think we had better think of getting out of here and continuing on our way. We must round up our horses, as we have far to go.” “You just stand right there where you be. You ain’t goin’ to cut much figger with a belly full of buckshot, and I got it to give you. Hayl bullets, some calls ’em. Well, whatever they call ’em, they’re just as good at tearin’ a man up.” “You might shoot,” I said, “but we’d kill you. I have a rifle, as have these gentlemen with me.
And no matter how much buckshot you throw my way, I’ll still manage a shot. Believe me, I will.