“I think I have solved the problem!” cried Fred. “I’ve read of this a number of times. This Sack Todd has a secret process of manufacturing some article and he doesn’t want anybody to learn what the process is. So he has established himself here and sworn all his workmen to secrecy.”
“I’ve heard of that myself,” said Tom. “A man had a certain process of tanning leather. He kept his secret for years, until a workman got mad at him and gave the thing away.”
Dick was inspecting the machinery with care. It was worn out and rusted, and hard to make out just what it was.
“Unless I am mistaken, these are parts of a printing press,” said the eldest Rover.
“A printing press?” cried several of the others.
“Yes. But that doesn’t solve the mystery of what the press was used for.”
It was damp and unwholesome in the cave, and they were glad enough to leave it and come out into the sunlight once more. They walked back to where they had left their horses, and here procured lunch, and fed all of the animals, including Wags.
Slowly the afternoon wore away. It began to grow cloudy, and so became dark at an early hour.
“We may as well start,” said Dick at last. “We can go to the edge of the woods, anyway.”
“I suppose you don’t know when you will be back,” said Tom.
“No, but probably in three or four hours.”
“Take good care of yourselves.”
“We’ll try to do that,” put in Sam.
“If I were you, I’d not expose myself,” was Fred’s advice. “Those chaps are rough customers, and there is no telling what they would do if they caught you spying on them.”
“That is true.”
A few words more followed, and then Dick and Sam set off on their tour of inspection. Each carried a pistol, and each felt that he could take care of himself. But neither dreamed of the dire peril which he was confronting.
They had left their horses behind, and now found advancing on foot no easy task. In spots, the undergrowth was so dense they had to literally force their way through, and they also had to make two long detours to escape swamps and treacherous bog-holes. The mosquitoes and gnats were also bad and bothered them not a little.
“I guess we are earning all we are getting out of this,” grumbled Sam as he came to a halt after pulling himself through a tangle of bushes and vines. “Unless we take care, we’ll have our jackets ripped off our backs.”
“Do you want to turn back, Sam?”
“No, but I guess we had better go a little slower.”
Dick was willing, and, as a consequence, by the time the edge of the timber was reached, the sun was sinking over the hills in the West, and it was growing dark.
Red Rock ranch was now in plain view, not over two hundred yards distant. In front and to one side was a level stretch. The reddish rocks were behind, leading to a small hill. There were numerous outbuildings, and a heavy barbed fence surrounded the whole, excepting at one point, where there was a wide-swinging gate of wire and boards.
“I think the best thing we can do is to work our way around to the rocks,” said Dick after studying the situation. “We can work up from the rocks to the outbuildings, and so on to the ranch itself—if we get the chance.”
With caution, they skirted the woods and inside of quarter of an hour reached the first of the series of rocks. As they crouched behind these, Dick caught his brother by the arm.
“Keep quiet,” he whispered. “I saw a man coming from the barn.”
After that, they remained motionless for ten minutes. At a distance, they saw two men coming and going from one building to another. They were evidently caring for the horses, cattle and poultry for the night.
“They are gone,” said Sam presently, as he saw the men walk toward the ranch house and disappear.
“Wait—they may come out again.”
They waited, but the men did not reappear, and now it was growing darker rapidly. Look as hard as they might in all directions, they could not see a single human being.
“The coast seems to be clear now, Sam.”
“Yes, but it won’t hurt to wait a few minutes longer,” was the answer.
As it grew darker, they saw several lights lit in the ranch. One was in the kitchen, one in what looked to be a bedroom and another in a small room in the main part of the building. The curtain over the window of the last-named room was up, and they could see the lamp quite plainly, resting on a table.
“Let us crawl up and take a look into the windows,” whispered Dick. “It seems to be safe enough now. If we hear anybody coming, we can lay down in the grass or behind a bush.”
Hardly daring to breathe, they crawled from the shelter of the rocks to the nearest outbuildings, one given over to some chickens. From there, they advanced to a cow shed and then to one of the big barns.
“I can see into the kitchen from here,” whispered Sam. “Look!”
They looked, and by the light of a big bracket lamp, made out two men and a boy moving about the kitchen, evidently preparing the evening meal. The door to the next room was open, and they caught a glimpse of several men at a table eating, or waiting to be served.
“I’d like to know if Dan Baxter is in that crowd,” said Dick.
They watched the scene for several minutes, but if the former bully of Putnam Hall was present he did not show himself. Then a curtain was drawn down, shutting off their view.
They next moved to the bedroom window, and there beheld a man lying on a couch, smoking a pipe. He seemed to be a refined individual, with a clean-shaven face and curly black hair.
“He doesn’t look as if he belonged to this crowd,” was Dick’s comment. “He looks as if he might be a thorough gentleman.”
“He certainly looks like a city man,” answered Sam. “Perhaps he has come to see this Sack Todd on business.”
“Perhaps.”
They watched the man for several minutes and saw him get a letter from his pocket and read it attentively. Then he closed his eyes as if to take a nap, throwing his pipe on a chair.
“Whoever he is, he is making himself at home,” observed the youngest Rover.
“Let us move on to the next window,” said his brother. “Now is our best chance to size up the place—while most of the crowd are getting their supper.”
As silently as before, they moved along in the darkness to where the light was streaming from the third window, not far from a corner of the ranch. Then each of the boys raised himself up with the slowness of an Indian on a trail.
Nobody seemed to be in the room, and, growing bolder, they drew nearer, until they could get a good view of the interior. They saw a table and several chairs, and also a desk and a safe. On the table was the lamp, and beside this, several piles of new, crisp bank bills.
“My gracious! Look at the money!” gasped Sam. “Why, there must be thousands and thousands of dollars there, Dick!”
“You are right.”
“Sack Todd must be very wealthy.”
“Unless—” and the eldest Rover paused.
“Unless what?”
“Unless those bank bills are counterfeit.”
CHAPTER XVIII
DICK AND SAM BECOME PRISONERS
“Do you really think those are counterfeit, Dick?” gasped Sam.
“More than likely. Don’t you remember the machinery? That printing press—”
“Yes, yes! It’s as clear as day. This must be a regular den, and Sack Todd—”
Sam got no further, for, at that moment, he felt himself seized from behind. A pair of strong arms were thrown around him, so that he could scarcely budge.
Dick was attacked in a similar fashion, and, though both of the Rovers struggled desperately, they found that their assailants had the advantage.
�
�Caught you good and proper, didn’t we?” came in the voice of Sack Todd.
“Let me go!” cried Dick.
“Not much, young man. Have you got the other one, Jimson?”
“I have,” answered the second man, a fellow with a long nose. “And he won’t get away in a hurry. I’m thinking.”
“We had better take ‘em inside,” went on Sack Todd.
“Just as you say,” answered Andy Jimson. “I reckon you boys remember me,” he went on with a grin.
“You are the man who was on that lumber raft that came near running down our houseboat,” said Dick.
“Struck it, fust clip. Didn’t expect to meet me ag’in, did ye?”
“I did not.”
“Wanted to shoot me, didn’t ye?”
“Didn’t you deserve it?” asked Sam boldly. “You came mighty close to sinking us.”
“Oh, that was only a bit of fun on the part o’ the feller who owned the raft. He knew what he was doin’. But I reckon you didn’t know what you were doin’ when you spied on Sack and his outfit,” continued the long-nosed man sarcastically.
“They’ll know what they were doing before I am through with ‘em,” said the owner of Red Rock ranch.
“What are you going to do with us?” demanded Dick.
“That remains to be seen.”
“You had better let us go.”
At this, Sack Todd set up a laugh of derision.
“You’ll not leave here yet awhile, young man I heard what you and your friend said just before we closed in on you. Do you suppose I am going to let you get out and blab about what you have discovered?”
His harsh tone made both Dick and Sam shiver. They felt that they were dealing with a hardened criminal and, most likely, one who would stop at nothing in order to attain his object.
“I must say it was a fool move to let that money lay around loose,” was Andy Jimson’s comment, and he nodded toward the piles of bank bills.
“One of the men just brought them up, and I hadn’t time to put them away,” explained the owner of the ranch. “Besides, I didn’t think there were spies around.”
“Maybe there are more of them, Sack.”
“That’s so!” ejaculated Sack Todd. He turned to the boys: “Have you any friends near?”
“That is for you to find out,” answered Dick. “You can be sure of one thing, though,” he added. “If you don’t let us go, you will get into serious trouble.”
“There was a big crowd of ‘em on that houseboat,” put in Jimson.
“I know there was a crowd—I met ‘em some days ago. We’ll march these off and then look around and see if there are others,” continued the owner of Red Rock ranch.
As it would have been useless to struggle, the boys did not attempt to get away. Both Sack Todd and Jimson were heavily armed, and Dick and Sam felt that they would shoot upon the slightest provocation.
The owner of the ranch uttered a shrill whistle, and in a moment two men came running out of the dining-room of the ranch. Each carried a gun.
“What’s wanted, boss?” they asked.
“We have captured two spies,” answered Sack Todd.
“Spies!”
“Yes. We want you to place them down below and then come and follow us. We are going to see if there are any more of them around.”
The two men placed their guns over their backs and took hold of Sam and Dick.
“Don’t let them slip you,” added the owner of the ranch. “I reckon they’re a pretty slick pair.”
“They shan’t slip us; eh, Spud?”
“Nary a slip, Scutty,” returned the second new-comer.
“Then you don’t intend to let us go?” asked Dick.
“No.”
“This is a high-handed proceeding.”
“Is it? Well, down here, we sometimes take the law into our own hands,” chuckled the owner of Red Rock ranch.
“Then, if the law ever gets hold of you, it will go so much harder with you,” said Sam.
“Bah! Do you suppose I am going to argue with a kid like you?” growled Sack Todd. “Take ‘em below,” he said, turning to his men.
There was no help for it, as others were coming to the scene. As the boys marched into the ranch, they came face to face with Dan Baxter.
“Dick Rover!” gasped the bully. “And Sam! What does this mean?”
“So you know these fellows?” said one of the men.
“Of course I do. I was telling Sack Todd about them. I used to go to school with them. What are they doing here?”
“The boss and Jimson found them spying around the place.”
“Oh, I see.” Dan Baxter grinned. “So you’ve got yourselves in a nice pickle, eh?”
“Baxter, have you joined this crowd?” asked Dick.
The bully started.
“Why—that’s my business,” he stammered.
“Perhaps it is, but you might be in something better,” put in Sam.
“Oh, you needn’t preach to me!”
“Don’t you know that these men are counterfeiters?” added Dick.
“You had better shut up, kid,” put in one of the men. “You are in our power, and the less you say, the better off you’ll be, see?”
“I have spoken nothing but the truth.”
“That may be so, too; but folks don’t always like to hear the truth.”
“What are you going to do with them?” questioned Dan Baxter curiously.
“Put them in a place we have ready for just such skunks.”
“Prisoners?”
“Sure.”
“Down below?”
“That’s it.”
Dan Baxter grinned to himself, and then leered at Sam and Dick.
“You won’t like that. It’s pretty musty under-ground, and wet, too.”
“I’d rather go there than do what you have done, Baxter,” answered Dick.
“What have I done?”
“You have joined these law-breakers; you need not deny it.”
“Humph!”
“You may think it smart, but some day you’ll rue it.”
“I don’t think so. As it is, the law and I are not very good friends,” and Dan Baxter laughed harshly.
“I can’t listen to your talk all night,” put in one of the men. “March!” the latter word to the prisoners.
They had been disarmed, so there was no help for it, and they walked through the ranch to where there was a big trap-door in the floor. This was raised up, disclosing a flight of wooden steps.
“Down you go!” was the next order.
They went down, side by side, to find themselves in a narrow cellar. At a distance, they made out a light, coming from the crack of a door. A lantern was lit, and they were ordered to a passageway at the end of the cellar. Beyond was something of a cell, built of stone and heavy timbers, with a thick door that was bolted and locked.
“In you go,” said one of the men, shoving Dick forward.
“Is this where you intend to keep us?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“That is for the boss to decide.”
“It’s a wretched place,” said Sam, looking around. “It isn’t fit for a dog to stay in.”
“That’s not my fault. You brought this on yourself,” said the man.
“When a kid takes it on himself to play the spy, he must take what comes,” said the other man as he shoved Sam in behind his brother.
The cell was foul-smelling and damp, and both of the boys shivered as they looked around them.
“Will you leave us a light?” asked the youngest Rover.
“We’ll leave you nothing,” said one of the men as he bolted and locked the heavy door. “Come on, now,” he added to hi
s companion. “The boss will be wondering what is keeping us so long.”
A moment later the two men walked off, leaving poor Sam and Dick prisoners in the dark, underground cell.
CHAPTER XIX
PETER POLL, THE DOLT
After Sam and Dick had departed, the camp in the woods seemed unusually lonesome to those left behind.
“I wish I had gone along,” said Tom, not once, but several times.
“Of da only come pack in safdy,” was Hans’ comment.
To pass the time, Songbird tried to make up some poetry, but nobody cared to listen to him, and he soon subsided. The death-like quiet felt to them as if it was the hour before the storm.
“Are you fellows going to sleep?” asked Fred as it began to grow late.
“You can go, Fred,” said Tom. “I’m going to stay awake until Sam and Dick get back.”
“Then I’ll stay awake, too.”
To tell the truth, nobody felt like sleeping, and all huddled together in a hollow, close to where the horses had been tethered. Wags came and rested his head in Tom’s hand.
“Old boy, you know we are worried, don’t you?” said Tom, and the dog looked up as if he understood.
It was a long time before their watches pointed to midnight. Then Songbird stretched himself.
“I am so sleepy I can scarcely keep my eyes open,” he said with a yawn.
“Then go to sleep,” said Tom.
“I take a leetle nap, too,” said Hans, and soon both were slumbering, leaving Tom and Fred on guard. They wished they had a fire—it would make things more cheerful—but they did not dare to indulge themselves, for fear their enemies might see the light.
By the time it was three in the morning, even Fred could hold out no longer. He dropped off, leaving Tom to keep the vigil by himself. But soon Songbird started up.
“Have they come back, Tom?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
“They must be making some wonderful discoveries. Hullo! so the others went to sleep, too? Don’t you want a nap?”
“Well, I’ll take forty winks, if you’ll promise to keep a good lookout.”
“I’ll do that. I’m as fresh as a daisy now.”
Tom leaned back against a tree, and in a minute more was in slumber-land. When the others awoke, they did not disturb him, consequently it was some time after sunrise when he opened his eyes.
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