CHAPTER XXVII
TROUBLE AT THE MINE
Several days' travel brought the party over the line into Arizona.They passed through a small village one noon, and, on inquiring theirwhere-abouts were told that they were well within the borders of thestate where their gold mine was located.
It began to rain shortly after this, and their trip was ratherunpleasant, but, well wrapped up in rubber coats, they managed to keepfairly dry. As for the auto it did not seem to mind what kind of weatherit was.
They camped that night under a clump of pine trees which served as apartial shelter, and it was so wet that no fire could be built. Jerryresorted to the stove made from one of the search-lights, and made somehot chocolate that warmed them all up.
The next day dawned clear, however, and with a better feeling thetravelers took up their journey again. The way was becoming familiar tothem, and they recognized many landmarks they had observed in theirgreat race across the continent to secure the gold mine before NoddyNixon and his crowd could win the claim, as told in detail in "The MotorBoys Overland."
That night they stayed in the town where the government assay office waslocated and to reach which there had been such an exciting brush betweenthe two automobiles, the one run by Noddy, and that run by the MotorBoys. They saw several men whom they knew slightly, and who appearedmuch surprised to see them again.
"Well, well, well, where in the world did you come from?" asked theproprietor of the hotel, as the auto drew up in front of his place. Hehad been quite friendly with the boys while they stayed at the mine, andhad sold them many supplies.
"We've been down to Mexico for a change of air," said Jerry.
"I suppose it didn't agree with you, or you wouldn't be coming back sosoon," went on the proprietor.
"Well, we thought our mine needed looking after," Jerry remarked.
"Looking after? I should say it did," the proprietor continued. "JimNestor was here the other day and he said if you didn't come backpretty soon and do something, there wouldn't be any mine."
"Is that right?" asked Ned, thinking the man might be trying to scarethem for a joke.
"Straight as a string," was the answer. "It seems that the title to theplace is in doubt."
"I know, Nestor wrote us about that," put in Jerry. "But he is still inpossession, isn't he?"
"Can't say," replied the hotel man. "He was very anxious the last timeI saw him, and that was a week ago. If I was you I'd look after it thefirst thing in the morning."
"We will," said Jerry. "I wonder if the government office is closed."
"Long ago," said the proprietor of the inn. "Why?"
"I was thinking I could go there and find out what sort of claim therewas against our property," answered the boy.
"You'll have to wait until ten o'clock to-morrow morning," went on theman. "They've got a new official in charge and he takes more time offthan he puts in. Some one ought to write to the President about it.There's lots of kicks about the way he acts."
Neither the boys nor the professor did much sleeping that night,because of worry over the mine tangle. They made an early breakfast andthen started for their claim, which they expected to reach in about twohours unless something unexpected occurs.
The way was familiar to them, and recalled many old memories of theexciting times they had in locating and proving their claim. Theypointed out to Mr. Bell the various landmarks as they passed them, butthe former hermit seemed to have fallen into a sort of stupor. His eyeshad a vacant stare and he took no interest in what was being said.
"I'm afraid he's going to be sick," said Jerry to the professor. "Hehas hardly spoken since we came into Arizona, and he used to be quite atalker."
"I guess it is only the excitement wearing off," said Mr. Snodgrass. "Hewill be all right in a day or two. He has had a pretty hard life thelast few weeks."
Tommy was worried about his father, and sat beside him, holding hishand, now and then looking up into his face, as if he feared to lose hisparent again.
As they neared the mine Mr. Bell seemed to become more dazed. Yet heappeared to be struggling to recall something that he had once knownand forgotten.
Suddenly he stood up in the automobile, as the car passed a deserted andtumbled down hut and exclaimed:
"See! There it is! There is the place!"
"What place, father? What do you mean?" asked Tommy.
But Mr. Bell sat down again, and seemed to have forgotten that he hadspoken. The professor could note, however, that there was a strugglegoing on in the old man's mind.
"I hope he does not become raving mad, yet it looks bad for him," theprofessor thought to himself.
"Ten minutes more and we'll be there!" exclaimed Jerry, crowding on alittle more speed. "I do hope Nestor is having no trouble."
They were in the midst of a wild mountainous country now. On either sideof the road were great bowlders, while a little further back was scrubtimber which extended for a mile or more before the deeper woods werereached.
They were just rounding the last turn of the road to swing into thestraight stretch that would take them to the mine when there soundedon the air the crack of a rifle. An instant later Mr. Bell gave aconvulsive start and fell over in his seat.
"They've killed him! They've shot him!" cried Tommy, while Jerrysuddenly brought the machine to a stop. Glancing across to the left asmall curling cloud of smoke could be seen floating above a big stone.
"There's where the shot came from," said Ned.
"Is he badly hurt?" asked Jerry of Professor Snodgrass, who was bendingover Mr. Bell.
"It is hard to say," was the answer. "The bullet struck him on the head,but there is so much blood I can't tell how bad the wound is. Push on tothe mine. Perhaps Nestor can help us."
Jerry started the machine again. It had attained a good speed when, fromthe side of the road came a hail.
"Motor Boys, ahoy!"
"There's Nestor!" cried Ned, pointing to a man who stood in front of asmall shanty. "Hello, Nestor!" he called.
"Hello!" responded the miner, running down to the road. "Well, I amcertainly glad to see you."
"Quick, Nestor!" exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass. "We have a wounded man here,and must get him to the shanty at the mine as soon as possible."
"We can't do it," replied Nestor.
"Why not?"
"Didn't you get my letter?"
"Only the one saying there might be a possibility of trouble."
"Well trouble came all right. I've been driven from the mine, and it'sin possession of a bad gang. So we can't take the wounded man there."
"What are we to do?" asked Jerry, seeing that Mr. Bell was bleedingbadly.
"Bring him into my cabin," said Nestor. "I came here after the gangdrove me out. I can put you up, I guess."
Jerry ran the car up close to the shanty and Mr. Bell, who wasunconscious, was carried in and laid as tenderly as possible on thesingle bunk of which the place boasted.
"Now some warm water and clean clothes," said Mr. Snodgrass. "I mustwash the wound and see how bad it is."
"I haven't a bit of hot water," said Nestor.
"There's plenty in the radiator of the auto," spoke Jerry. "Give me apail and I'll soon get some."
He soon had a plentiful supply that was almost boiling, and, cooling itsomewhat, the naturalist carefully washed the blood from the woundedman's head. Then he examined the hurt.
"Will he die?" asked Tommy, as he stood around, tearfully.
"Not this time," replied Mr. Snodgrass, cheerfully. "The bullet appearsto have only grazed the scalp a bit, but it probably gave him a prettyhard knock. He'll soon come around right I guess."
Mr. Bell was made as comfortable as possible, and, as there was nothingto do but wait until he became conscious, he was left in charge ofhis son. Tommy was told to call as soon as his father showed signs ofawakening, and then the others surrounded Nestor, eager to hear aboutthe mine.
"I guess it's gone," said the old prospector. "
As I wrote you, the titleseems to have some flaw in it, and this gang, which came from somewheresto the southeast, found it out, and served papers on me. It appears thatthere is a man missing who holds the key to the situation, and who ownsthe majority of the mine, but he can't be found, and so our title is nogood."
The news depressed the spirits of all. They had been hoping that thetrouble was small and temporary and that Nestor would find a way out.Now they stood to lose the mine they had struggled so hard to get.
"Did you resist their claim?" asked Mr. Snodgrass.
"You bet I did," replied Nestor. "I went to court over it, but the judgesaid though it was morally wrong to put me out, yet the others had thelaw on their side, and he had to decide against me.
"I didn't give up even then, for I barricaded the place and defied 'emto get me out. But the sheriff came and said that was no way to do. Hehad the law with him, and he said it would be his duty to shoot me if Iresisted. He advised going to a higher court, and so, rather than haveany bloodshed I gave up, and decided to camp out here until you came.I've been here about two weeks now."
"Then the mine's gone," remarked Jerry, sorrowfully.
"We can try the courts," said Nestor, hopefully.
"It would take years to settle the case," put in Mr. Snodgrass. "No, Iguess you are beaten, boys."
"I will not give up yet," said Jerry.
"What are you going to do?" asked Ned.
"I'm going to town, hire the best lawyer I can get, and see what hesays. There may be a way out of this yet."
"That's the way to talk!" exclaimed Bob. "I'm with you."
Jerry lost no time. He hurried to the auto, and with Bob for companymade the run to town in record time. He was directed to a lawyer'soffice, and, finding the attorney, who was a young chap, in, paid him aretainer and stated the case briefly.
"I just want to know how we stand, what sort of a claim there is againstour title, and what we can do to perfect it," said Jerry.
"It's quite a lot of information to get at in a hurry," said the lawyer,"but I'll do my best. I'll be ready for you at four o'clock thisafternoon."
"I'll call for you then," went on Jerry, "and take you back to Nestor'sshanty, where you can explain the whole thing to us."
Then the boys, with a feeling of dread that their mine was gone forever,in spite of all they could do, went back to where the others were.
The Motor Boys Across the Plains; or, The Hermit of Lost Lake Page 29