Riddle of the Storm

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER XXVII THE BLACK CUBE

  "There! That's the place!"

  D'Arcy Arden pointed away over a well-marked track to the distant shoresof a small lake. On the shore of the lake grew a few scrub trees,poplars, willows and spruce. Nestling among these was a cabin. From thechimney a thin coil of smoke rose skyward.

  "Yes." Johnny Thompson pulled him back. "And there's the gray plane. Theymust be there. We must be careful, or they will see us."

  Creeping back to a spot where a low ridge shut out their view of thelake, they gathered in a circle for a council of war. War it was to be,too. Sandy MacDonald had decreed that two hours before.

  "They have forfeited their right to freedom, those wild aviators have,whoever they may be!" he had declared stoutly. "They have taken gas fromstations when no emergency existed and have not reported it. They haverobbed trappers of their supplies. They have kidnapped two of you andcarried you away into a desolate land where, for all we know, they meantto let you starve. Why? Let them tell us.

  "Our duty its plain. We must, if we can, capture them, bring them tojustice and return the plane to its owner if it has been stolen, which Idoubt not."

  So, fired by the veteran's words, they had prepared to march upon thoseintruders in a silent land.

  They were four: Johnny Thompson, D'Arcy Arden, Sandy MacDonald and theHunchback Bowman. Three were armed with bows and arrows. These bows, asyou have seen, were capable of killing a bear. Sandy was prepared, ifneed be, to do yeoman service with an axe.

  You may wonder how it came about that they were together here, so closeto the hiding place of the ones they sought. It is all quite simple.Without tarrying to discover the origin of the strange illumination inthe mysterious cave of the hunchback, Johnny had set about the task ofremoving his fetters and those of D'Arcy. This, with the aid of thehunchback's extraordinary strength, he was successful in doing.

  Finding himself once more on his feet, he had crept from the cave,harnessed his dogs and hitched them with those of the hunchback to thesled.

  After seeing that they were all well armed with stout bows, he headed thedouble dog team back over the trail of the night before.

  They would, he explained, follow this trail until they found themselvesapproaching the small lake on which the mystery plane had alighted. Theywould then circle the lake until they came upon the hunchback's trailleading to the camp. It was this last trail that old Ginger and the agedprospector would follow if, as he firmly believed, the old leader hadescaped and Sandy MacDonald was on his way to the rescue.

  "And if we are too late, if MacDonald has gone before us and beencaptured, we will storm their place and rescue him if it costs a life!"Johnny had said with fierce determination.

  The hunchback, though he spoke scarcely a word of English, appeared tounderstand, for he grinned, showing all his white teeth, and brandishedhis bow in a threatening manner.

  For once they had met with good fortune. They had not been camped half anhour on the trail made by the hunchback on the night of the rescue whenSandy MacDonald appeared at the top of a ridge. Then it was that the agedScotchman completely lost control of his team. Old Ginger was in thelead. Once he sighted his young master, he led the team in a stampedethat ended only when he leaped up to kiss Johnny's cheek, a kiss of whichJohnny had no cause to be ashamed.

  So now here they were, gathered in a narrow run, planning an attack.

  "We might wait until night," suggested Johnny.

  "And in the meantime they'd be away in the plane, like as not," objectedthe sturdy Scotchman. "Looks like the Lord had delivered them into ourhands. We must take them."

  "But they may be desperate characters!"

  "Beyond doubt they are. We must take them by surprise. We'll do it thisway." Sandy MacDonald's old eyes shone with fresh fire. "You three thatare armed, you'll creep up through the brush and take your position readyto cover the door. Then I'll drive up with the dog team as any trappermight do. I'll get them out into the open, without arms. You will covertheir escape. And so we'll win a bloodless battle."

  "Sounds all right," said Johnny. "But here's hoping nothing goes wrong!"

  Their method of attack agreed upon, there remained but to put it intoeffect.

  Testing their bows, then nocking their arrows, the young archers,together with the hunchback, crept forward. Over one ridge they climbed,down a narrow gully, over a second ridge where for a second, quitebreathless, they feared detection, then down the ridge followed by abreak for cover in the bushes.

  "We--we made it," D'Arcy puffed in a whisper.

  "Yes, we did," Johnny agreed. "But the worst is yet to come. Look to yourbow. Set your arrow squarely. If you must shoot, shoot to kill. More thanone honest person's life depends upon it."

  They crept through the bushes to a point where they might command a viewof the doorway to the cabin and the open space before it. Then, sinkingdown in the snow behind the black bulk of a spruce tree, they awaited thezero hour.

  Johnny drew his watch from his pocket. A minute ticked itself intoeternity, then another and yet another.

  "Sandy does not come," Johnny whispered. "What's keeping him?"

  A chill gripped his heart. What if their valiant old leader had beenambushed and captured!

  "We'd save him!" was his stout resolve. "We--"

  He broke off. A chill, creeping up from his very toes, left him rooted tothe spot. He had caught a sound of movement in the brush behind him.There could be no mistaking that.

  "Sandy has been ambushed and captured. Now it is our turn. Will theyfight?" Fresh courage flooded his being as, gripping his bow, he whirledabout.

  The next instant he all but dropped in his tracks. Framed in the greenthat was the spruce boughs, he beheld a face, the face of Drew Lane!

  Starting back like one who sees a ghost, he stood there, rigid as marble.

  The face smiled. He knew that smile. It was Drew Lane's smile. No ghostthis, but a living being.

  "Drew Lane, as I live!"

  "Right the first time."

  "And--and you did not fall from the parachute?"

  Drew did not answer.

  "Am I in time?"

  "For the fight?"

  "The fight."

  "Just in time. We--" Once again Johnny broke off. Had he caught the droneof an airplane motor?

  He had. There was no questioning that. It grew louder.

  "Are they gone?" he asked himself. "They can't be." One look around thetree assured him that the gray plane still rested on the ice by thecabin.

  "A second plane." His head whirled. Was there more than one mysteryplane? A whole fleet of them perhaps?

  "Or--" Hope rose high. "Or is this Curlie Carson coming to our rescue?"

  Together the four of them stood at attention.

  From his hiding place, not far from the cabin, Sandy MacDonald, too, hadheard the drone of the plane. Truth was, his keen old ears had detectedit first. This is why he had delayed appearing. He was, however, in aquandary. Like Johnny, he was in the dark regarding the person who flewthis second plane. Was he a friend? Or foe? He could not know. And notknowing, he felt that their coup might be postponed. But his youngcomrades? Would they have the patience to wait? He could not tell. In theend, he decided to trust to their patience.

  Johnny's watch ticked away another minute. The second plane loomed largerand larger in the distance.

  Suddenly from out the log cabin sprang two large, black-bearded men. Onecarried a curious package on his head. It seemed a dark leather case, aperfect cube some eighteen inches in diameter.

  Having hurriedly placed this in the cabin of the plane, they leaped forthe cockpit to set the motor in motion.

  "Stop them!" Johnny sprang to his feet. "They are off!"

  He was too late. The plane began to glide across the ice. Moving slowlyat first, it gained in momentum.

  At the same time the other plane was speeding toward them. Johnny wassure
now that he made out the blue and yellow of Curlie Carson's plane.

  "So near!" he groaned. "And we lost them!"

  He came out into the open. His companions followed him. Sandy MacDonaldcame up. Together they watched the gray plane rise from the ice and soarnorthward.

  The other plane changed its course. It was to pass some distance fromthem.

  "If that's Curlie's plane," said Johnny, "he is not alone. His tank iswell loaded with gas. He will chase them until they are ready to cry forquarter."

  It _was_ Curlie. And every guess Johnny had made was a good one.

  Arrived at Resolution with the disabled trapper, Curlie had told hisstory to Sergeant Jock Gordon of the Royal Mounted Police. Jock had goneinto action. He had summoned his assistant and ordered him to prepare toaccompany him at once into the wilds.

  "We must follow the scent before it is cold." he said to Curlie. "As anofficer of the law, I have power to commandeer your plane. That's whatI'm doing now. How soon can we be off?"

  "We'll be ready in an hour."

  "Absolutely," Jerry echoed.

  So here they were hot on the tail of the gray plane which had spreadconsternation through the North.

  The chase was not a long one. While Johnny Thompson and his companionslistened and watched, they heard the motor of the mystery plane cough andrattle, then lapse into an appalling silence. Instantly the heavy planewent into a tailspin and plunged earthward.

  From an altitude of some two thousand feet, it fell faster and faster.Johnny closed his eyes, but could not shut out the mental vision of thatwhich must happen. This was a little world of rocky ridges. There couldbe but one outcome to such a landing.

  In silence they watched the pursuing plane circle back, then slow downfor a landing. In silence still, they gripped the hands of Curlie andJerry as they alighted from the plane.

  The look on Curlie's face as his eyes fell upon the close knit featuresand sturdy form of the young detective, Drew Lane, was a wonderful thingto see.

  "By all the signs that any man can know," he said slowly, "you should bedead. With my own eyes I saw you pass into a cloud. You were droppingearthward in a parachute. I saw the parachute flutter out of the cloud.You were gone. A fall of two thousand feet in such a spot must kill anymortal man; yet here you are! I--I am glad! But how does one do it?" Hestared hard at the detective.

  "Simple enough." Drew gave forth a low laugh. "When one knows how,there's really nothing to it. Been done several times. Two parachutes,that's the answer. When you release one, you open the other. The secondone takes you safely to earth.

  "It seems, however," he spoke slowly, "that it got me nothing, thattrick. Thought I'd be able to slip up on them and take themsingle-handed.

  "Trouble was I didn't know the land. Got myself lost right at the start.Had a mighty tough time of it, I have. Lost all trace of them. This isthe first I've seen of them for days. And now I find them only to seethem crack up.

  "Well," he added philosophically, "that's the end of the 'Gray Streak.'Not a chance that they came down alive. Only thing that's left is tosearch the wreckage for clues, then give them an aviator's funeral, lighta match and touch off their gas. What say we go?"

  Eight hours later, gathered about the fire in the cabin that had but afew hours before been the base of strange outlaws, they were preparing togo through with an unusual ceremony--the opening of the black cube, whichhad been thrown from the wrecked plane and, strangely enough, hadreceived not the slightest injury.

  "Heavy!" said Jock Gordon, lifting it to the table. "Wonder what's in it.We'll see."

  The next instant as one man they started back. They were met by a blazeof such varied light as they had never before beheld. They were lookingupon a crown, the crown of a one-time powerful ruler. And not a jewel wasmissing.

  "The crown of the Tzar of Russia, as I live!" exclaimed Sandy MacDonald.

  "Do--do you think so?" Jock asked.

  "Can't be a doubt of it. I've seen it pictured many times, even incolors. The radicals got it, when the Revolution came. And now, here itis!"

  "Why?" It was Johnny who asked. He asked for all. He may as well haveasked for the whole world. The question will perhaps never be answered.The two men who might have answered it were dead. Their funeral pyre hadbut a few hours before loomed toward the sky. A thousand questions mightbe asked about this strange pair, but none answered. The priceless crownalone remained. And that, since it had been smuggled into the country,must be turned over to the Canadian Government.

  "Do you know, Sandy," Johnny said as they sat by the fire an hour later,"I slept in the strangest place last night. It was a cave; perhaps youmight only call it a rocky cavern."

  "What's strange about that?" Sandy rumbled sleepily.

  "It was all alight and yet there was no lamp. And it was night."

  "Light?" Sandy sprang to his feet.

  "The walls appeared to be phosphorescent."

  "And was it warm, too?" The old man's tone was eager.

  "Yes. I believe it was."

  "Man!" cried Sandy, seizing his hand and gripping it till it hurt."You've made the find of a lifetime!"

  "A--a find?"

  "Those walls are radio-active. It's pitchblende, full of radium. It givesoff light and heat. And man! How rich it must be! It's such a find as theworld has never known!"

  Could this be true? Johnny's head whirled. Had God in His strange ways ofprovidence led him over a mysterious route to the goal he sought?

  CHAPTER XXVIII JOY COMETH

  For a few hours, each wrapped in his feather robe, they slept on thefloor before the fire. Then, all too eager for the final curtain on thislittle drama of the North, they were away.

  As a representative of the Canadian Government, Jock Gordon took chargeof the black cube and its precious contents. Curlie Carson agreed tocarry him straight to Edmonton.

  Since Drew Lane had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that his mission inthe North, in so far as it concerned the stolen air mail plane, was to bea fruitless one, he decided to return with Curlie to Edmonton. There hewould make connections with his own pilot and fly home.

  "When I attempted that double parachute stunt," he said to Curlie, "Itold the pilot to fly my Red Racer back to the airport, then keep hismouth shut. So he's sure to be waiting there."

  "But where do you suppose that air mail plane is?" Johnny Thompson asked.

  "Who can answer that? Perhaps in Cuba, or Mexico or Central America. Acrook with plenty of money can travel far. But in the end we'll get him."

  "We'll take this boy along and drop him off at Fort Chipewyan," saidCurlie, turning to D'Arcy Arden.

  The boy beamed his gratitude.

  A few moments later the motor thundered and they were away.

  When the party had in this manner been reduced to three, Johnny, Sandyand the hunchback bowman, Sandy exclaimed:

  "Now, son! Lead me to this enchanted cave!"

  An enchanted cave it proved to be. "It's radium! Richest find ever made!"the prospector exclaimed the moment his eyes rested upon its walls. "Mustbe phosphorus and zinc blended with it in a peculiar manner. But it isrich in radium. I would stake my life on it."

  Just as they were preparing to leave the cave, they caught the sound ofsome one shouting. On reaching the exit they found Scott Ramsey waitingoutside.

  "You left no word," he accused Sandy.

  "The dog came with an emergency call. I could but answer," Sandy rumbled.

  "So you're all safe!" Scott seemed relieved.

  "Safe enough. And our young friend here has made a discovery such as ismade only once in a generation." He told of the find in the cavern theyhad just left.

  "But look here!" Scott exclaimed when he had finished and they hadrejoiced together.

  He drew a letter from his pocket and read it aloud. It had come in answerto his enquiry regarding the films he had left in Winnipeg. It explainedthat the suite of offices to which
the vault belonged had been sublet;that the vault had been cleared of all obsolete material, and thatthrough some mistake the films had been sold with waste paper to a junkman.

  "That means," Johnny's face lighted with a broad smile as he spoke, "thatthose people in that other camp bought them from the junk man."

  "As they had a perfect right to do," supplemented Sandy.

  "And that's that!" Johnny did a wild whirl on the hard crusted snow.

  "'Joy cometh in the morning!'" he exclaimed. "For a long time I've beenfeeling mean about our plans to hop in and file on land close to thoseother prospectors if they made a strike.

  "I've insisted that one of them is a crook. Joyce Mills has stuck to itthat they were the right sort, each and every one. And it seems she'sright. For if they bought the films, who can say they did not have theright to use them?"

  "Who indeed?" Sandy's face lighted with a smile that was good to see."And who wants gold when he may mine radium?"

  "Come on, Ginger!" Johnny set his leader on his feet. "We're going to bethe first to break the glad news to Joyce Mills."

  In this he was not disappointed. And the light that shone from the girl'seyes as she was told that not one of her three champions had done wrong,was worth all the weary miles of travel that had led him to her camp.

  Over a huge roast of venison the men of the two camps pledged fellowship,co-operation and mutual good will.

  If there are those who would know more of the mysterious MoccasinTelegraph, let them journey to the far Northland and seek such knowledgethere.

  Johnny Thompson soon left Sandy and Scott to develop the radium strike,which was a rich one in very truth, to wander back to the white lights ofa great city. There once more he came into contact with Drew Lane.

  Together they undertook the unraveling of a mystery such as appears butonce in a lifetime. If you wish to know its nature and to read of themany brilliant maneuvers that at last led to its solving, you must readour next book: _The Galloping Ghost_.

  Transcriber's Notes

  --Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text--this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.

  --Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.