"How did you find the way?"

"Find the way!" gasped old Bowen. "They were here--last fall--and promised--on their oath--to tell no one. If I had only killed them, I should not be a ruined man to-day," continued he, in half smothered tones.

"And we kept our word, Mr. Bowen," said Owen, in a faltering voice.

"Believe them, Mr. Bowen; they told no one," said the sheriff.

"Then--then----" stammered the captive, "Jerry and Stayford--have--have proved traitors! The whole--whole world is against me!"

"Boys," said Mr. Lane, "let us finish this here work as soon as we can.

Pile them there barrels together to burn, and put shavings under that there wood; we'll set fire to 'em and leave this here place for good."

The boys began their work without answering a word. Scattered here and there were a number of large barrels in which the mash was prepared; these were rolled together in a heap. Along one side of the cave, and extending its entire length, was a pile of many cords of wood. Most of it was well seasoned poplar, with its thin, ragged bark hanging down on all sides. While Martin set fire to the barrels, Owen applied a brand to the dry bark. It burned like tissue paper; it hissed and sparkled, and sent up puffs of unsteady smoke which wrought strange shadows on the sides of the cave, and made the myriads of water-drops overhead tremble and glitter.

Soon the pile of wood began to burn, and as the fire grew brighter and brighter, it leaped to the top of the damp stone arches, tossed and flared and scattered showers of whirling sparks. The men and boys were dazzled by the sudden and brilliant flame. Huge columns of pitchy smoke rose up from the glowing ma.s.s. The heat became intense; so intense that Mr. Lane cut the ropes which bound the prisoners and led them to the outer section of the cave; but he kept close to them, pistol in hand.

Two pa.s.sages which led farther beneath the ground offered a natural flue through which the flame roared with the fury of a whirlwind. Stored away on heavy beams within these deep recesses of the cave were hundreds of barrels of whisky, the output of three years. The barrels caught fire; the heavy beams caught fire; the whisky poured out in streams and fed the raging element. Smoke and flame found their way through a thousand crevices and rifts until the whole hillside appeared to be ablaze. The glare through the rock door which stood ajar lit up the surrounding trees; while far below the glimmering river seemed a stream of blood.

The men and boys stood without, shading their faces from the heat and light, viewing the terrible and destructive scene. Old Bowen the while peered through the open door into one corner of the cave where a few pieces of wood lay half buried in the damp earth. The flames could not reach this wood, but the surrounding heat was gradually drying it. It began to smoke, then suddenly burst into a flame. At the same instant Louis Bowen shrieked: "Powder! powder!" he cried, as he sought in vain to free himself from Mr. Lane's grasp. "A barrel of it! The fire is over it! Run, run!"

He had scarcely uttered the last word when the whole hill seemed shaken to its foundation. A part of the stony vault fell with a crash, leaving a s.p.a.cious chasm through which the pent-up flames burst with a mighty roar and leaped to the very top of the surrounding trees. A fragment of stone struck old Bowen and laid him lifeless at the feet of the sheriff.

In the confusion which followed, Simpson darted into the woods and disappeared.

Mr. Lane and the boys fled from the spot to escape the suffocating smoke and flames. To their horror they saw the two giant rocks which had stood as guardian genii at the entrance of the cave start from their foundations and threaten to overwhelm them. For untold ages rain and frost and decay had done their work, and gradually removed the soil from beneath these stony ma.s.ses, till it needed but the single shock of the explosion to set them in motion. At first they trembled with quick vibrations, then swung to and fro with the regularity of a pendulum, then rasped and jarred, and ground the stones beneath them into atoms, crushed the smaller trees which barred their progress, then on, on they dashed, gathering strength and terror as they went. Lane and the boys sprang aside just as they thundered by. Down, down they crashed; down, down, while the largest oaks and hickories bent as reeds before them, and were shivered into splinters--down, down, while the hills trembled beneath their ma.s.sive weight and echoed with wild reverberations. At the water's edge they parted. One embedded itself in the mud and sand close to the sh.o.r.e; the other reached the middle of the river and disappeared beneath the water.

In the meanwhile the hill was shaken by another mighty throe--the entire roof of that section of the cave where the fire was raging collapsed and fell. The flame leaped out and lit up the trees and bluffs and river with a ruddy glow, and then was smothered and extinguished as if by magic. The sight was grand, but lasted only for a moment. A few gleams of light from the crevices in the hillside--a slight rumbling noise of the waves against the giant rocks--then all around was left in silence and in darkness.

CHAPTER XXVI.

SEALED FOREVER.

"The whole cave has fallen in," exclaimed Owen, as he leaped to the top of the cliff just in front of the place where the two giant rocks had stood.

"See, too, how the rocks are burned and blackened," replied Martin.

"I'm not surprised; I thought the whole world was on fire."

"And I thought that the Day of Judgment had come."

"Look at those trees! how they were crushed by the rocks."

"And the size of that rock!"

"Yes, it is as large as three houses."

"Now I see why the earth shook so much," said Martin. "I couldn't understand how one barrel of powder could make such an earthquake."

"And how do you explain it now?" inquired Owen of his companion.

"Easily enough; the whole cave was but a sh.e.l.l. The earth had been washed from around the rocks, and they were resting one on the other.

When one fell, they all fell."

"What you say seems to be true," a.s.sented Owen.

"And now I wonder whether the whole cave has fallen in?" inquired Martin.

"Has Jerry's 'hold out' been blown up? That's the first question to answer," said Owen.

"Come," said Martin. "Let us see if we can find the little window."

It was the fourth day after the capture of old Bowen. Martin and Owen had come down to examine the scene of the explosion, and to search for the money which was supposed to be in Jerry's abode; for Mr. Lane had told them of the conversation which he had overheard between Simpson and the Tinker. In fact, the sheriff had promised to accompany them, but had been detained by business connected with his office. If they found the money, the two boys intended to send it on to the old trapper, who had always been friendly to them, and whose misfortune they both lamented.

It was impossible to judge of the position of the "hold out" from the top of the ridge where the boys were standing, so they descended into the ravine to the left of the hill to look for the small gla.s.s window.

With the exact description which Mr. Lane had given, they did not antic.i.p.ate any great trouble, yet so ingeniously had Jerry concealed the opening, that they spent an hour without discovering it, although they pa.s.sed below it many times.

Finally Martin suggested that one of them climb a tree near the cliff.

He had scarcely finished the sentence before Owen, springing up to the lower branches of a young ash tree, mounted to the top as nimbly as a squirrel, and a moment later a shout of triumph announced to Martin that the window had been found.

"Can we get up to it?" asked Martin.

"It is best to get down to it," came the reply from the top of the tree.

"How long are the ropes which we used to tie our horses."

"They are over ten feet."

"Well, the longest will do. It is about seven feet from the window to the top of the cliff, whereas it is fully fifteen to the bottom, so you see it will be easier to climb down. I'll stay here while you go up on the ridge; then we'll be able to mark the exact spot over the window."

"That's a good scheme. It won't take me long to get up there," and Martin started off at once.

He gained the spot and called out for Owen. No answer came. He looked around to see whether he could have missed the place. No, it could not be; there was the ridge, there the ash tree which Owen had climbed. He waited for some time, then called again: "Owen! Owen!"

He heard the breaking of twigs behind him, and looking around beheld his friend, pale and trembling.

"Owen, what has happened?" he asked.

"I saw a ghost."

"What?"

"A ghost--a bear--something. I don't know what it was."

"Where?"

"In the window--just a moment--then it jumped back again."