“What do you think of that sky, Dave?”
“It looks to me as if we were in for a storm, Roger,” answered Dave Porter, a trace of anxiety crossing his usually pleasant features.
“Perhaps it is only wind,” vouchsafed Roger Morr, after he brought his horse to a standstill so that he might scan the distant horizon minutely. “You know they do have some terrible wind storms out here in Montana.”
“Oh, yes. I remember the big winds we had when we were out at Star Ranch,” answered Dave. “Don’t you remember once we thought we were in for a regular tornado?”
“I surely do remember. Say, Dave, those were certainly great days on the ranch, weren’t they?”
“Now that we’ve moved up here to Montana I hope some day to get the chance to run out to 2the ranch,” continued Dave. “I would like very much to meet Belle Endicott and her folks.”
“I’ll wager you’ll find Phil Lawrence sneaking out this way some day,” laughed Roger.
“Can you blame him, Roger? Belle is an awfully nice girl.”
“Of course I shouldn’t blame him, any more than I’d blame myself for—for——”
“Than you would blame yourself for sneaking off to Crumville to see my sister,” laughed Dave.
“Humph! I guess you wouldn’t mind being back in Crumville this moment, calling on Jessie Wadsworth.”
“I don’t deny it. But say, let us get on our way. Those black clouds are coming up altogether too rapidly to suit me.”
“How many miles do you suppose we are from the camp?”
“Six or eight at least. You know we followed this trail for a long time before we stopped to have lunch.”
“If that new branch of the M. C. & D. Railroad comes through this way it will certainly follow a picturesque route,” declared Roger.
“That will suit the summer tourists, even if it doesn’t cut any ice with the natives. But come on, we had better not waste any more time. Before you know it it will be dark and that storm will be upon us.”
3The two young civil engineers were high up on a trail among the mountains of Montana. Far below them stretched a rugged valley, containing more rocks than grazing lands. Off to the southward could be seen a small stream which some time before had been shimmering in the sunlight, but which now was almost lost in the sudden gloom that was overspreading the sky.
“What a difference between the scenery here and that along the Rio Grande,” remarked Roger, as the two chums made their way along the narrow trail leading to the camp of the Mentor Construction Company.
“I’m glad of the change, Roger. I was getting tired of the marsh land along that river, and I was also mighty tired of those greasers.”
“Not to say anything about the raids the Mexicans made on us,” laughed the chum. “Say, we came pretty close to having some hot times once or twice, didn’t we?”
“I hope, Roger, we are able to make as good a showing up here on this railroad work as we did on that Catalco Bridge. That certainly was a superb piece of engineering.”
Dave was silent for a few minutes while the horses trotted along the stony trail. Then, pleased by a passing thought, his face and eyes lit up with enthusiasm.
“Wouldn’t it be grand, Roger, if some day 4you and I could put through some big engineering feat all on our own hook?” he cried. “Think of our putting up some big bridge, or building some big tunnel, or some fine skyscraper, or something like that!”
“I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to do it some day. The men who are at the head of the Mentor Construction Company had to start as we are doing—at the foot of the ladder. What one man has done, some other fellow ought to be able to do after him.”
“Right you are! But ride slow now. If you’ll remember, the trail is rather dangerous just ahead of us.”
The admonition that had been given was not necessary, for both young men knew only too well the danger which lay ahead of them. At this point the trail became exceedingly narrow and wound in and out around a cliff which towered at least a hundred feet above their heads. In some spots the trail was less than a yard wide, and on the outer edge the rough rocks sloped downward at an angle of forty-five degrees.
“If a fellow slipped down there I wonder where he would land,” murmured Roger, as he held back his steed so as to give his companion a chance to pick his way with care.
“If you went over there you’d probably tumble down several hundred feet,” answered Dave. 5“And if you did that, you and your horse would most likely be killed. You be careful and keep your horse as close to the cliff as possible.”
At one point in the trail where it would have been utterly impossible to pass another person, the young civil engineers stopped to give a long, loud whistle, to announce to any one coming in the opposite direction that they were approaching. No whistle or call came in return, so they took it for granted that the trail was clear and proceeded again on their way.
By the time the vicinity of the cliff had been left behind, more than three quarters of the sky was overcast. Far off in the distance they could hear a murmur which gradually increased.
“It’s the wind coming up between the mountains,” announced Dave. And he was right. Soon the murmur had increased to a strange humming, and then, in a moment more, the wind came rushing down upon them with a violence that was anything but comfortable.
“Come on! Don’t linger here!” shouted Dave, as he urged his horse forward. “We’ll soon be out on the regular road.”
A quarter of a mile farther brought them to another turn in the trail, and in a minute more they went down a long slope and then came out on a broad trail running to a number of mines and ranches in that part of Montana. Here for over 6a mile riding was much easier, and the chums made good progress in the direction of the construction camp at which they were making their headquarters.
“Do you think we can make it before the rain comes?” questioned Roger, as they dashed along.
“No such luck. Here comes the rain now,” answered Dave.
As he spoke, both of the young civil engineers felt the first drops of the on-coming storm. Then the rain became a steady downpour which threatened every minute to turn into a deluge.
Fortunately for the two young men, they were not hampered by any of their civil-engineering outfit. They had been asked that morning by Mr. Ralph Obray, the manager of the construction gang, to ride up the trail and make sure that certain marks had been left there by the surveyors for the railroad. The work done by the railroad had been merely of a preliminary nature, but this preliminary work, crude as it was, was to be used as a basis for the more accurate survey by the engineers of the construction company.
“I don’t think we can make camp in such a downpour as this,” gasped Roger, after another half-mile had been covered.
“Maybe you’re right,” responded Dave. “It certainly is coming down to beat the band! But what are we going to do? I don’t believe in 7standing still and getting ourselves drenched to the skin.”
“We ought to be able to find some sort of shelter near by. Come on, let us take a look around.”
Both did this, sheltering their eyes from the rain with their hands. In such a downpour the scenery on all sides was practically obliterated.
“Can’t make out a thing,” remarked Roger in disgust. “I suppose we’ve got to go on and take what comes. By the time we reach camp we’ll feel like a couple of drowned rats.”
“Never mind. We’ll have a chance to change our clothing, anyway,” responded Dave lightly. “And we won’t have to take a bath or get under the shower.”
“Take a bath or get under the shower!” repeated Roger. “Wow! If I had a chance to do that I wouldn’t know myself,” he added with a grin. For neither of the chums had seen anything like a bathtub or a shower for several months. When they took a bath it was usually in a small stream that flowed not far from where the construction camp was located.
Forward the young civil engineers went once again, the rain beating furiously in their faces as they proceeded. The downpour was so severe that presently they came to where a hollow on the road was completely filled with muddy water.
8“Stop, or you may get stuck!” cried Dave, as he brought his horse to a halt. “I think we had better try to go around this pool.”
“Come on this way,” returned his chum quickly, and turned off to the left.
And right here it was that the two young civil engineers made a big mistake. Had they turned to the right they would soon have come out on the road at a point where it would have been perfectly safe to proceed. But the turn to the left led them downward, and almost before they knew it they found themselves between the rocks and on the edge of a thick woods.
“Hello! where have we landed now?” queried Dave. “I don’t believe we can get back to the road from here.”
“Oh, come on, let us skirt the woods,” urged Roger. “We are bound to get back to the road sooner or later.”
Somewhat against his better judgment, Dave allowed his chum to take the lead, and on they went through the rain and increasing darkness. The first rush of wind had now somewhat subsided, but in its place they could hear the low rumble of distant thunder. Then a sudden flash of lightning lit the scene.
“Say, I don’t like this!” cried Roger, as the thunder became louder and several more flashes of lightning flared over the surroundings.
9“Watch for the next flash, Roger, and maybe you can see the road,” suggested Dave.
Both young civil engineers did as had been suggested, but, though they waited not only for the next flash of light but also for the two following, they were unable to see more than the rocks and trees in their immediate vicinity.
“I’m afraid we’re lost down here,” said Dave at last. “And if that’s the case, the only thing we can do is to ride back to where we came from.”
“Oh, let us go ahead a little farther. Maybe the road is at the edge of the woods yonder.”
“If we only knew of some miner’s camp or some ranch-house around here, we might get shelter, Roger. I don’t much like the idea of riding in such a storm as this is getting to be.”
“True for you! But I don’t think there is any kind of shelter such as you mention within a mile or two of this place. I didn’t see anything that looked like a house or a cabin when we came up the trail.”
Once more Roger went ahead, and with increased unwillingness Dave followed him, all the while thinking that it would be better to retrace their steps to the point where they had found the roadway covered with water.
“We might have skirted that pool somehow,” thought Dave. “Now we don’t know where we’ll land.”
10The two riders found a slight rise ahead of them, and this encouraged Roger into believing that the roadway was not far distant. Less than a hundred yards further on, however, they came to a sudden halt.
“Well, I’ll be blessed!”
“I think we’ll have to turn back now, Roger.”
“I suppose so. Isn’t it too bad?”
Without warning of any kind they had suddenly come to a spot where the jagged rocks arose in front of them several feet higher than their horses’ heads. Off to the left flowed a swift mountain torrent, bordered on one side by a low, irregular cliff and on the other by the jagged rocks and the tall forest. The rain was now coming down as steadily as ever, while the thunder and lightning constantly increased in violence. The sky was entirely overcast, so that when there was no lightning it was almost totally dark at the edge of the forest.
“Maybe if we could get across that stream we might climb up to the roadway,” suggested Roger, who hated to think of going back. “Anyway, let us take a good look the next time it lightens.”
Roger had scarcely spoken when there came a tremendous crash of thunder so close at hand that it made both of the young civil engineers start. The horses too were badly frightened, and both gave wild plunges one into the other. As a consequence, 11a moment later Dave found himself unseated and thrown to the ground, and an instant later Roger landed almost on top of him.
“Hi! Stop the horses!” gasped Dave, when he could speak.
To this Roger made no response for the reason that he had come down on the rocks with such force that he was all but stunned. Dave attempted to struggle to his feet and catch the plunging animals, but before he could do so the two horses had bolted away in the semi-darkness, leaving their former riders to their fate.
“We’re in a pickle now, and no mistake!” panted Roger.
“Let us try to catch the horses before they get too far away,” came from Dave. “We don’t want the fun of tramping back to camp on foot.”
“Not to say anything about losing two valuable animals.”
“I hope you didn’t break any bones,” continued Dave, as he saw his chum feeling of his knee and his elbow.
“Oh, I guess I didn’t get anything more than a good shaking up. And you didn’t escape entirely, either. See, your hand is bleeding.”
“Oh, it’s only a scrape. Come on;” and thus speaking Dave ran off in the direction the runaway horses had taken, and his chum followed.
To my old readers Dave Porter will need no special introduction. For the benefit of others, however, let me state that when a small boy he had been found wandering alongside the railroad tracks in Crumville. As nobody claimed him he 13had been put in the local poorhouse, and, later on, bound out to a broken-down college professor, Caspar Potts, who at that time was farming for his health.
In an elegant mansion on the outskirts of Crumville, lived Mr. Oliver Wadsworth, a wealthy jewelry manufacturer, with his wife and his daughter Jessie. One day the gasoline tank of an automobile took fire, and Jessie was in danger of being burned to death when Dave came to her rescue. As a consequence of this Mr. Wadsworth became interested in the boy, and decided that he should be given the benefits of a good education and had sent him to a first-class boarding school, as related in the first volume of this series, entitled “Dave Porter at Oak Hall.” With Dave went Ben Basswood, his one boy friend in the town.
At Oak Hall Dave made a number of close friends, including Roger Morr, the son of a well-known United States Senator; Phil Lawrence, the offspring of a rich ship-owner; “Shadow” Hamilton, who loved to tell stories; and Buster Beggs, who was as fat as he was jolly.
In those days the principal thing that troubled Dave was the question of his parentage. To solve the mystery of his identity he took a long sea voyage, as related in “Dave Porter in the South Seas,” where he met his uncle, Dunston Porter, and learned much concerning his father, David 14Breslow Porter, and also his sister Laura, who were at that time traveling in Europe.
On his return to school, and during the time that our hero spent in trying to locate his father and his sister, as related in succeeding volumes of this series, Dave made many new friends. But there were some lads who were jealous of the boy’s success, and two of them, Nick Jasniff and Link Merwell, did what they could to get our hero into trouble. The plot against Dave, however, was exposed, and in sheer fright Nick Jasniff ran away and went to Europe while Merwell went out West to a ranch owned by his father.
Dave’s sister Laura had an intimate friend, Belle Endicott, who lived on Star Ranch in Montana, and through this friendship all of the boys and girls were invited out to the ranch. There, to his surprise, Dave fell in once more with Link Merwell and finally exposed that young rascal so that Link thought it would be to his advantage to disappear.
“You’ll have to keep your eyes open for those wretches,” was Roger’s comment at the time.
“They’ll get the better of you if they possibly can, Dave,” Phil Lawrence had added.
“I’ll watch them,” the youth had answered.
When the Christmas holidays arrived Dave went back to Crumville, where he and his folks resided with the Wadsworths. Directly after 15Christmas came a startling robbery of the Wadsworth jewelry works, and Dave and his chums by some clever work discovered that the crime had been committed by Merwell and Jasniff. After a sea voyage to Cave Island, Jasniff was captured and sent to jail, but Merwell at the last minute managed to make his escape.
The trip to Cave Island was followed by another to the great West, where Dave aided Roger Morr in locating a gold mine which had been lost through a landslide.
After this our hero went up to Bear Camp in the Adirondack Mountains, where he had a glorious time with all of his chums and also the girls. At that time Dave fell in with a young man named Ward Porton, who was almost our hero’s double in appearance. Porton proved to be an unscrupulous person, and caused our hero not a little trouble, he trying at one time to palm himself off as the real Dave Porter. This scheme, however, was exposed, and then Porton lost no time in disappearing.
Our hero had now graduated from Oak Hall, and he and Roger Morr had taken up the profession of civil engineering. In the midst of his studies Dave was startled by the news of the disappearance of some valuable miniatures which had been willed to his old friends, the Basswoods. It was discovered that Ward Porton was in this plot, 16and later on this evildoer, along with his disreputable father, was brought to justice.
As soon as their first examination in civil engineering had been passed, Dave and Roger had succeeded in obtaining through their instructor positions with the Mentor Construction Company, a large concern operating many branches throughout the United States and in foreign countries. They were assigned to a gang operating in Texas, building a railroad bridge near the Rio Grande. This construction camp was under the general management of Mr. Ralph Obray, assisted by a number of others, including a middle-aged man named Frank Andrews, who had speedily become a warm friend of the young civil engineers.
The work had proved absorbing from the start to Dave, and it must be said that the senator’s son was almost equally interested. Both kept up their studies every day and kept their eyes and ears wide open, and consequently made rapid progress. On more than one occasion Mr. Obray had given them encouraging words and shown his satisfaction, and Frank Andrews was enthusiastic.
“You fellows keep on the way you have started, and some day you’ll be at the top of the ladder,” was the way Andrews expressed himself.
The two young civil engineers had remained at work on the Catalco Bridge for nearly a year. Then the task had been turned over to another 17gang, and the Obray outfit, as it was commonly called, had been sent up from Texas into Montana, to take up the work of roadbed and bridge construction for the M. C. & D. Railroad.
This railroad was simply a feeder of one of the main lines, yet it was thought that in time it would become a highly important branch. The work to be undertaken was unusually difficult, and it was an open secret that several construction companies had refused even to give figures on it.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us up here,” had been Frank Andrews’ remark to Mr. Obray, after the pair had gone over the situation carefully.
“Right you are, Andrews,” the manager of the construction gang had answered. “It looks all right on paper, but we are going to have a good many difficulties which can’t be put down in black and white.”
“What we’ve got to guard against, to my way of thinking, is landslides,” the assistant had answered.
Since beginning work for the Mentor Construction Company, Dave and Roger had had two opportunities for returning to the East. They had come by the way of Washington, where Senator Morr and his wife were now residing, and had also stopped off at Philadelphia to visit Phil Lawrence. Then they had made their way to Crumville, 18there to put in a most delightful time with Dave’s folks and the Wadsworths. As my old readers are aware, to Dave there was no girl in the world quite so sweet and lovable as Jessie Wadsworth, while it was noticed that Roger and Dave’s sister Laura were together whenever occasion permitted.
The two young civil engineers had been in Montana now for about three weeks, and during that time they had gone on numerous errands to places ten and even twenty miles away. On arrival they had hoped to visit Star Ranch, but had learned that this place was nearly a hundred miles off. They had looked at some of the local mines with much interest, and had likewise visited several ranches.
“We’ll get to know this whole district like a book before we get through with it,” had been Roger’s comment.
“Maybe,” Dave had answered. “Just the same, if I were you I wouldn’t go too far away from the regular trails without a pocket compass. Getting lost among these mountains might prove very serious.”
The two young civil engineers had started off on their errand that morning in high spirits, due not alone to the fact that both were feeling in the best of health and were doing well in their chosen profession, but also to the fact that the day before 19they had received a number of letters from home, including a warm epistle to Dave from Jessie and an equally tender missive from Laura to Roger.
At their end the two girls had written each in the confidence of the other, so that the two chums did not hesitate to talk over the contents of both letters between them.
“Oh, we’ve got the brightest prospects in the world before us!” Dave had cried when they had set out, and in the exuberance of his spirits he had thrown his cap high up in the air.
But the prospect at this particular minute did not seem to be so bright. The rain was coming down steadily, accompanied by sharp crashes of thunder and vivid flashes of lightning, and the two youths had all they could do to keep their feet as they sped along in the direction the runaway horses had taken.
“This is the worst ever!” groaned Roger, as both presently came to a halt with the rocks on one side of them and the forest on the other. “I can’t see anything of those horses, can you?”
Dave did not for the moment reply. He was waiting for the next flash of lightning, and when it came he strained his eyes in an effort to locate the vanished steeds. The effort, however, was a vain one.
“They’re gone, that’s sure,” he announced gloomily. “If the storm didn’t make so much 20noise we might be able to hear them clattering over the rocks; but between the wind and the thunder that’s impossible.”
“They had to come this way, for it’s the only way. Let us go on a little farther.”
As there was nothing else to do, Dave followed his chum along the edge of the forest and at last the pair reached the spot where they had left the road. Here the pool of water had become much larger and deeper.
“We don’t seem to be getting anywhere,” grumbled the senator’s son, as they came again to a halt. “Just look at this! It’s a miniature lake!”
“We’ll have to get around it somehow, Roger,” was the reply. “Let us try the other side this time.”
“But what about the horses?”
“If they came up here on the roadway I’ve an idea they started straight for camp. They wouldn’t know where else to go.”
Not caring to stand still in such a downpour, the two started to skirt the pond, going in the opposite direction to that which they had before taken. They had to clamber over a number of rough rocks and through some brushwood heavily laden with water, so that by the time they reached the other side they were as wet as if they had taken an involuntary bath.
21“Well, there’s one consolation,” announced Roger grimly. “We couldn’t get any wetter if we tried.”
“Come on. Let us leg it for camp as fast as we can,” returned Dave. “It’s pretty cold out here, drenched like this.”
“Wait a minute! I think I saw something!” cried the senator’s son suddenly. “Look!”
He pointed off to one side of the roadway, and both waited until another flash of lightning lit up the scene.
“The horses!”
They were right. There, not over a hundred yards away, stood the two runaway steeds, partly sheltered by several big trees. Their heads had been down, but now they suddenly came up as if in fresh alarm.
“Do you think we can catch them, Dave?” gasped the senator’s son.
“We’ve got to do it, Roger,” was the reply. “But be careful, or they’ll get away as sure as fate. Here, you approach them from the right and I’ll go around to the left. And don’t let them get past you, no matter what happens.”
Fortunately for the two chums, the flash of lightning which had revealed the two horses to them was followed by something of a lull in the storm and this served to keep the steeds from stampeding again.
“Be careful, Roger,” cautioned Dave, as they separated to do as our hero had advised.
“Do you want me to take my own horse or the one which happens to be nearest to me?” questioned the senator’s son.
“Take the nearest, by all means—and be sure to hold on tight!”
In the darkness, and with the rain still coming down steadily, the two approached closer and closer to the horses. One animal gave a low snort, but whether of fear or recognition of his master could not be ascertained.
“I guess we’ve got them, all right enough,” sang out Roger, as he made a dash to cover the dozen feet that separated him from the nearest steed.
23Dave was a few steps farther away from the other horse. At that instant came another clap of thunder, followed almost instantly by the lightning. Then came a crash in the forest, showing that a tree close by had been struck.
The nervous horses wheeled around and reared up. Then one started in one direction and the other in another.
“Grab him, Roger! Don’t let him get away!” yelled Dave, and made a wild leap for the animal nearest him. He caught the loose rein, and an instant later had a firm hold on the steed. The horse did considerable prancing, but the youth, who some seasons before had tamed a bronco at Star Ranch, was not daunted. He brought the animal to a standstill, and then, seeing that it was his own mount, leaped lightly into the saddle.
“Now behave yourself, old boy,” he said soothingly, patting the animal on the neck. “You’re all right. Take it easy.”
In the meanwhile, Roger was having an exciting experience with his own horse. The animal had tried to back away from him, and had gotten a hind leg fast between two trees. Now he began to kick out wildly, hitting one of the trees several resounding blows.
“Whoa there! Whoa!” cried the senator’s son; but his horse continued to kick out until, with a wrench, he got the other foot free. Then he 24began to prance around once more, showing every evidence of wanting to run away.
“Wait! I’ll hold him while you get into the saddle!” cried Dave, riding up. And then he placed himself directly in front of Roger’s mount.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, the senator’s son made a leap and got safely into the saddle; and then the two runaway horses settled down to behaving themselves decently.
“This was luck, all right,” remarked Dave, when the brief excitement was over.
“Right you are,” was the ready reply. “I didn’t fancy walking back to the camp.”
“Nor losing two such valuable horses,” added our hero. “If they had failed to return perhaps Mr. Obray would have made us pay for them, and that would make a big hole in our salaries.”
Making sure that the horses should not get away from them again, the two young civil engineers rode back to the road, and then with caution picked their way along on the right-hand side of some ever-increasing ponds of water. This was slow and dangerous work, the horses slipping and sliding among the wet rocks and loose stones, and more than once getting into mud and water up to their knees. But at last that peril was left behind, and once again the youths found themselves on comparatively solid ground and headed in the direction of the construction camp.
25“We’ll sure have a story to tell when we get back,” remarked Roger, as they rode along side by side.
“Yes. But we’ll want to change our togs before we start to tell it,” returned Dave grimly. “I feel as if I had jumped overboard with all my clothing on.”
“It looks to me as if the storm was passing away,” continued the senator’s son, gazing up at the sky.
“Oh, more than likely it will stop raining as soon as we get back, Roger. It would be just our luck.”
It was true that the storm was passing, and they were still some distance from the construction camp when the rain practically ceased. A portion of the clouds rolled away, making the sky much clearer.
“I’ll bet the sun comes out as brightly as ever before it sets,” ventured Roger. “Hang it all! why couldn’t we have found some shelter during this awful downpour? Then we wouldn’t have got wet to the skin.”
“Never mind, Roger. There is no use in crying over spilt milk. Don’t forget how thankful we are that we got our horses back.”
The chums were still out of sight of the construction camp when they heard a clatter of hoofs on the stony roadway ahead of them. In a minute 26more a figure, clad in a semi-cowboy outfit, came galloping toward them.
“Hello! who can that be?” cried Roger.
“Maybe it’s one of our men coming out to look for us,” answered Dave. “Perhaps Mr. Obray or Frank Andrews got worried when it began to blow so and lighten so hard.”
The two young civil engineers slackened their pace, expecting that the newcomer would halt as soon as he saw them. They drew up to one side of the road, and were somewhat surprised to see the person on horseback go by without paying any attention to them. He was a fellow about their own age and had his head bent down over his horse’s neck as if he was in deep thought.
Both of the young civil engineers stared at the rider as if he were a ghost. Neither of them said a word, but they both looked after the passer-by as if they could not believe the evidence of their senses.
“Dave, did you see him?” came at last in an excited tone from Roger.
“I certainly did, Roger!”
“It was Nick Jasniff!”
“So it was!”
“But how in the world did he get here?”
“I don’t know. I thought he was in prison!”
“So he was—we saw him sentenced ourselves, after we caught him on Cave Island.”
27“And his sentence can’t be up yet. The time is too short.”
“Maybe he broke jail or got out sooner on account of good behavior. You know they give prisoners some time off if they behave themselves well.”
“You don’t think we could be mistaken?”
“I don’t think so. If that fellow was not Nick Jasniff, it was his double.”
“Oh, don’t say anything about doubles!” cried Dave quickly. “I had all I want of that sort of thing with Ward Porton. I’m quite sure that fellow was Nick Jasniff himself. He had that same hang-dog, slouching way about him he had when he went to Oak Hall.”
“But what can he be doing out here in Montana?”
“I don’t know,—unless he may have thought that some of the Merwells were still out here. He, of course, must know about Mr. Merwell disposing of the Three X Ranch.”
“You don’t suppose he came out here to see us, do you?”
“To see us? Not on your life! Why should he want to see us? He knows well enough that we have no use for him.”
“But maybe he wants to get square with us. You know he threatened us in all sorts of ways after we had him arrested. And you know what an 28awful wicked fellow he is, Dave. Didn’t he try once in the Oak Hall gym to brain you with an Indian club?”
“Yes; I remember that only too well, Roger. Just the same, I don’t think a fellow like Jasniff would come away out here to square accounts with us. It’s more likely he came out here to get away from the people who know him. Maybe he thought he could start life over again in a place like this, where nobody knew him.”
“Humph! possibly you’re right. But if that’s the case, I don’t want him to come around where I am. I have no use for a jailbird,” grumbled the senator’s son.
The youths had resumed their journey, and a few minutes later they came into sight of the construction camp. This consisted of a rudely-built office, backed up by a score or more of smaller buildings used as bunk-houses. At the end of a row was a large, low building in which was located the kitchen and also the mess hall, or “Palace of Eats,” as some of the engineers had christened it. Still further away was a small shed for horses, with a corral attached.
“Hello! I was wondering what had become of you two chaps,” cried Frank Andrews, as they rode up to the building wherein they and the assistant and some others had their quarters. “Some let-down you got caught in.”
29“I should say so!” cried Roger. “We came within an ace of being drowned.”
“Be thankful that you weren’t struck by lightning,” returned the older engineer, with a twinkle in his eyes. “I suppose you’ll want to get some dry duds on before you make any report about those marks.”
“The marks are all there, just as Mr. Obray expected they would be,” answered Dave. “I’ve got a list of them here in my notebook.”
“By the way, Mr. Andrews, was there a stranger here a little while ago—a fellow about our age?” questioned Roger.
“There was somebody here. I don’t know who it was,” answered the assistant. “He was over at the main office, talking to Mr. Obray.”
“And you don’t know who he was?”
“No.” Frank Andrews gazed at the two chums questioningly. “Anything wrong about him?”
“That is what we want to find out,” answered the senator’s son. “We thought we knew him; and if so he isn’t the kind of fellow that any one would want around here.”
“Why, how is that?” questioned Frank Andrews. And thereupon, in a few brief words, Roger and Dave told about Nick Jasniff and his doings.
“You’re right! We don’t want any jailbirds 30around this camp!” cried the assistant. “When you go up to the office you had better tell Mr. Obray about this.”
Dave and Roger were glad enough to get under shelter. They lost no time in taking a good rub-down and in changing their apparel. Then they hurried over to the office of the construction camp, where they found the manager and several of his assistants going over various papers and blue-prints.
“Got back, eh?” said Mr. Obray, with a smile. “You certainly didn’t have a very nice day for the trip.”
“Oh, well, it’s all in the day’s work, Mr. Obray,” answered Dave lightly.
“And we had one advantage coming back,” put in Roger. “We didn’t suffer the least bit from dust;” and at this sally a smile lit up the features of all present. They liked Dave and Roger very much, and the fact that Dave’s chum was the son of a United States Senator added something to the importance of both of the young men.
Getting out his notebook, Dave lost no time in turning in his report, which was supplemented by what Roger had to say. Then the two young civil engineers were asked a number of questions, to which they replied as clearly as possible.
“I guess that’s about all,” said Mr. Obray finally. “I think that makes it pretty clear. 31Don’t you, Mr. Chase?” he continued, turning to one of the other men present.
“I think so,” answered Mr. Chase. “But we’ll still have to make an investigation up there at Number Six. I’m not satisfied about the formation of that rock. I think we’re due for a lot of trouble.”
“Well, we’ll meet it as it comes—there is no use in anticipating it,” answered Ralph Obray briefly.
He was a man who was never daunted, no matter how great the obstacles that confronted him. It was his clear-headedness that had won more than one engineering victory for the Mentor Construction Company when all the other engineers had given up a task as impossible.
“Mr. Obray, we would like to ask you a few questions in private if you don’t mind,” said Dave in a low voice, when he saw the other civil engineers turn away to consult a map that hung on one of the office walls.
“All right, Porter. Come right in here,” answered the manager, and led the way to a corner, where he had a small private office.
“I wish to ask you about a fellow we met on the road just before we got back to camp about half an hour ago,” explained our hero. “He was a fellow about our own age. He was on horseback, and I thought he might have been here.”
32“There was a fellow here, and he left less than an hour ago,” answered the manager. “I should think he was about your age, or maybe a year or two older.”
“Was he a tall, lanky sort of fellow with a rather slouchy air about him?” questioned Roger.
“Yes, that description would fit him pretty well.”
“And did he have a squint in one eye?” questioned Dave suddenly, remembering a peculiarity about Nick Jasniff which he had almost forgotten.
“Yes, there certainly was something the matter with one of his eyes. The upper lid seemed to droop considerably.”
“Might I ask what that fellow was doing here?”
“He came here looking for a job. He said he was working on one of the ranches in this vicinity but that he preferred to work for us and learn civil engineering if we would give him a chance. I told him we were pretty well filled up as far as our engineering corps was concerned, but said he might call some other time. You see, Barry and Lundstrom are thinking of leaving, and if they do we might have a chance for one or two outsiders, provided they were of the right sort.”
“Well, if this fellow is the person we think he 33is, he isn’t any one you would care to have around here, Mr. Obray,” cried Roger.
“And why not?” demanded the manager of the construction camp.
“Because if he is the fellow we think he is, he is a thief and a jailbird!”
Mr. Ralph Obray was much surprised at the statement made by Roger, and his face showed it.
“That is a pretty strong statement to make against anybody,” he said slowly. “Perhaps you had better explain.”
“I can do that easily enough,” returned the senator’s son. “And Dave here can tell you even more than I can.”
“By the way,” broke in Dave, “may I ask if the fellow left any name?”
“Oh, yes.” The manager of the construction camp glanced at a slip of paper lying on his desk. “Jasper Nicholas.”
“Jasper Nicholas!” cried Roger. “What do you know about that?”
“It sounds a good deal like Nicholas Jasniff turned around,” answered our hero. He looked at the manager. “The fellow we have in mind was named Nicholas Jasniff,” he explained.
“Tell me what you know about the fellow,” returned Mr. Obray shortly.
Thereupon the two chums related how they had 35been schoolmates with Nick Jasniff and Link Merwell at Oak Hall and how Jasniff had one day attacked Dave in the gymnasium with an Indian club and how the fellow had run away. Then they told of the robbery of the Wadsworth jewelry works, and of how Jasniff and Merwell had been followed to Cave Island and captured.
“At the last minute Merwell got away,” continued Dave, “but the authorities hung on to Jasniff and he was tried and sent to prison for a long term of years. How he got out I don’t know.”
“That is certainly an interesting story,” said Mr. Obray. “But if that fellow Jasniff is in prison he can’t be the fellow that called here.”
“But look at the similarity in names!” broke in Roger. “Oh, I am sure he is the same fellow.”
“If he is, we won’t want him around here even if he has a right to his liberty,” declared the manager. “Our men are all honest—or at least we think they are—and we can not take chances with a man who has been convicted of a crime. Of course, such a fellow has a right to do his best to get along in the world; but he had better go to some place where nobody knows him.”
“Don’t you think we had better try to find out whether Jasniff has really served his full term and been properly discharged from prison?” remarked Dave. “If he is a fugitive we ought to 36capture him and send him back to the authorities.”
“You are right there, Porter. It might be a good idea for you to send a message to the East to find out about this.”
“Where do you think I ought to send for information?”
“Do you know where he was placed in prison?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then I would send directly to the prison authorities.”
“Let us send a telegram!” cried Roger. “A letter would be too slow. I’ll stand half the expense.”
“All right, I’ll go you!” responded our hero quickly. “If Nick Jasniff got out of prison on the sly, he ought to be returned to the place.”
“Maybe if he did get out, and we captured him, we might get a reward, Dave.”
“That is true, too—provided a reward has been offered.”
“You seem to be pretty sure that this fellow who called here is the man you are after,” remarked Mr. Obray. “Don’t you think you may be mistaken? In that storm, and with the fellow galloping past you on horseback all hunched up to keep from getting wet, you may have made a mistake.”
At this remark the face of the senator’s son became clouded.
37“It might be so, Dave. To tell the truth, we didn’t get a very good look at him. And yet I think it was Nick Jasniff.”
“I’m almost certain of it, Roger. I’ll never forget that face of his. I studied it pretty well when he was up for trial and we testified against him.”
“You might wait until he comes here again,” suggested the manager.
“Yes. But then we wouldn’t have the information we want,” declared Dave. “I’d rather pay out my money on that telegram and learn the truth. Then, if Jasniff was wanted by the authorities, we could make a prisoner of him right then and there.”
“That is true.”
The matter was discussed for several minutes longer, and then the two chums walked back to their quarters. Here they talked the matter over between themselves.
“We can’t send a telegram to-night; the office closes at six o’clock,” declared Dave. “We can write it out, however, and send it the first chance we get in the morning. I think Mr. Obray will let you or me ride down to the telegraph office with it.” The nearest station from which a telegram could be sent was quite a distance away, and a telephone line between the two points, while it was being erected, was not yet in operation.
38Of course Frank Andrews wished to know what had taken place, and the youths told him. He shook his head sadly.
“It’s too bad! Especially with a young fellow,” he declared. “That term in prison will hang over him like a cloud all the rest of his life. Kind-hearted people may talk all they please and do all they possibly can—the fact remains that if a man has once been in prison, unless he can prove that he was innocent, very few people will care to have anything to do with him.”
“If Jasniff were a different kind of fellow I’d have a different feeling for him,” said Dave; and his face showed his earnestness. “If he had been led into crime by others it would be a different story. But so far as I can remember, he was always hot-tempered, vicious, and bound to have his own way. He was the leader in that robbery—not Merwell. And when he was captured he acted in anything but a penitent mood. On that account I can’t get up much sympathy for him.”
“He doesn’t deserve any sympathy!” cried Roger. “Why, every time I think of how he grabbed up that Indian club in the Oak Hall gymnasium and did his best to brain you with it, it makes my blood run cold!”
“He certainly must have been a pretty wicked boy to attempt anything like that,” was Frank Andrews’ comment. “It’s bad enough for schoolboys 39to fight with their fists; but that at least is a fair way to do.”
The two chums were tired out from their strenuous adventures of the day, and were glad to retire early. During the night the storm cleared away entirely, and in the morning the sun shown as brightly as ever.
“If you don’t mind, Dave, I’ll take that telegram down to the office,” said Roger, while the pair were dressing. “I’m expecting a box that father said he was sending, and I can ask for that at the same time.”
“All right, Roger. But you had better wait until the mail gets in. There may be some other message we’ll want to send.”
The mail was brought in while the youths were at breakfast, and was distributed immediately after that repast was over.
“Hello, here’s a letter from Phil!” cried our hero, as he noticed the postmark “Philadelphia.”
“I’ve got the box from dad,” returned the senator’s son, “so I won’t have to ask about that at the express office.”
“I knew it!” exclaimed Dave, who had ripped the letter open and was scanning its contents. “Phil is coming out here to pay a visit to Star Ranch; and he says he may bring Shadow Hamilton with him. Isn’t that the best ever?”
“So it is, Dave! But it’s no more than I expected—at 40least so far as Phil is concerned. I knew he couldn’t remain away from Belle Endicott very long,” and the senator’s son winked suggestively.
“Here’s a lot of news about the other fellows, Luke Watson, Polly Vane, and Jim Murphy. Polly has gone into business with an uncle of his, and Jim Murphy has a well-paying position up at Yale.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Polly Vane was one of the finest fellows that ever lived, even if he was somewhat girlish. And as for Jim Murphy—there was never a better monitor around Oak Hall.”
Dave had turned over to the last sheet of the six-page communication Phil Lawrence had sent. Here the letter proper came to an end, but there was a postscript added in lead pencil. This ran as follows:
“You will be interested to know that some time ago Nick Jasniff’s case was brought up before the Board of Pardons by a Committee on Prison Reform. The men and women composing the committee made a strong plea for Jasniff because of his age, and I understand they made a very favorable impression on the Pardon Board. If Jasniff is pardoned, he will be getting out without having served even half of his sentence. I wish I had been there to tell the Board what sort of a fellow he is.”
41“Here’s the milk in the cocoanut, Roger!” cried Dave, and read aloud what Phil had written.
“Humph, so that’s the truth of it,” murmured the senator’s son. “More than likely that committee worked on the feelings of the Pardoning Board so that they gave Jasniff his liberty. Well, if that’s the case, there won’t be any need for sending that telegram.”
“You’re right. If he was pardoned, that ends it, and he has as much right to his liberty as we have to ours. Just the same, I think they made a mistake. When he was tried, I am sure the judge, on account of his age, gave him as short a sentence as he deemed best.”
“I’m sure of that too, Dave! Why, one of the lawyers told me that if Jasniff had been ten years older he would have gotten twice as long a sentence.”
“I think I had better go to Mr. Obray with this news,” said Dave. “You can tell Andrews if you want to.”
Our hero found the manager of the construction camp just preparing to go out with several of his assistant engineers. Explaining the situation, Dave allowed Mr. Obray to read the postscript of Phil’s letter.
“Looks as if you were right after all, and the fellow who was here had been pardoned,” was 42Ralph Obray’s comment. “In that case, you can’t do anything about having him held. Just the same, if he is that sort I won’t want him around.”
“If he comes again, may we see him to make sure that he is really this Nick Jasniff?”
“Certainly, Porter. If you are anywhere near, I’ll hold the man at the office, or wherever we happen to be, and send for you and Morr.”
Dave and Roger were now working under the directions of Frank Andrews. In the gang were two others—a young man named Larry Bond, and an elderly engineer named Hixon. All had become well acquainted and were good friends. Hixon was from the West and had spent many years of his life on the cattle ranges and in the gold fields.
“I was a prospector for six years,” he once declared. “But, believe me, it didn’t pay. Sometimes I struck it pretty rich; but then would come long dry spells when I wouldn’t get a thing. All told, I didn’t do as well, year in and year out, as I am now doing at regular wages.”
Andrews’ gang, as it was termed, had some work to do at Section Five of the proposed line, the work, of course, being preliminary to that which was to be made on the erection of the bridges to be built. This was in a decidedly rocky part of the territory, and the young civil engineers 43and the others had no easy time of it making their survey.
“Some different from sitting in your room at Oak Hall working out a problem in geometry, eh?” remarked Dave to Roger, after a particularly hard climb over the rocks.
“I should say so,” panted the senator’s son.
“You look out that that chain doesn’t get away from you,” cried Dave, pointing to the long coiled-up steel measure which the other was carrying at his belt. The real civil engineer’s, or surveyor’s, chain is largely a thing of the past, the steel measure having taken its place.
Frank Andrews and the others were at a distance and young Bond was wigwagging his signals across a deep cut in the hills. Now Dave prepared to signal in return, at the same time holding up his leveling-rod as required. Roger attempted to climb around on the rough rocks, and then suddenly uttered a cry of dismay.
“What’s the matter?” asked Dave.
“That measure! I just started to fasten it tighter to my belt when it slipped out of my hands. There it goes—sliding down the rocks out there,” and the senator’s son pointed to a spot at least fifty feet below them.
While Dave was still signaling and moving his leveling-rod farther along as desired, Roger began to scramble down the rocks in the direction where 44the steel measure had fallen. He was gone for fully ten minutes when suddenly Dave heard a yell.
“What’s the matter, Roger?” he called, dropping the leveling-rod and the signal flag he held.
“It’s a snake—and a big one, too!” screamed the senator’s son. “Oh, Dave, come here and help me! My leg is caught between the rocks, and it’s a rattlesnake!”
The announcement that Roger had his leg caught between the rocks and that a rattlesnake was about to attack him filled Dave with alarm.
“Oh, Roger, are you sure it’s a rattlesnake?”
“Yes! Yes! Come down and help me! Quick!”
“I will. Can’t you hit him with a rock or something?”
“I will if I can. But hurry up—and bring that axe or something with you!”
When leveling parties, as they are officially called, go out, one man often carries an axe with which to clear away any obstructions which may prevent a clear sight. On this occasion Roger had been carrying the axe, as well as the chain, and the implement now lay close to where our hero stood.
Grabbing up the axe, Dave lost no time in scrambling down the rocks. As he did this he heard a stone strike on some rocks below and knew that Roger was throwing at the snake.
46“Oh, Dave! Help!” yelled the senator’s son, “He’s getting ready to strike!”
With one wild leap Dave came down to within a few feet of where his chum stood between two rocks which reached up to his waist. One leg was fast between the rocks, and while the unfortunate youth was endeavoring wildly to extricate himself from his predicament, he was shying one loose stone after another at a snake that was coiled up in something of a hollow less than a dozen feet away. The hollow was so situated that exit from it could only be had in the direction occupied by the young civil engineer.
As Dave approached he saw that it was indeed a rattlesnake that his chum had disturbed. The reptile was at least five feet in length and of corresponding thickness, and was now coiled up as if ready to strike.
It was a moment which called for immediate action, and without stopping to think Dave raised the axe and sent it whirling forward toward the snake. His aim fell short, but this shortness proved to be thoroughly effective. The handle of the axe came down with a thud on the rocks, sending the blade flashing in a semicircle. The sharpened bit of steel caught the snake in the very center of its folds, inflicting several deep cuts.
Instantly the reptile’s attention was taken from 47Roger. It whirled around swiftly in search of the enemy that had struck it and whipped angrily at the axe.
“Oh, Dave! can’t you shoot him?” gasped Roger. “I dropped my pistol when I came down over the rocks.”
In that wild territory it was the custom of every one of the engineering gang to carry firearms. Dave had a small automatic pistol in his hip pocket, and this he now brought into play.
Crack! Crack! Crack! went the weapon three times in rapid succession. The first shot did not take effect, but the second and third hit the mark, and the rattlesnake twisted and turned in its death agony. Then, placing the pistol back in his pocket, our hero raised up a stone almost as large as his head and with it put the reptile out of its misery.
“Oh, Dave, is he—is he dead?” panted Roger. His face had gone white, and his whole attitude showed how unstrung he was.
“He’s as dead as a door-nail, Roger,” was the answer, after Dave had made a brief inspection of the remains. “He’ll never bother you or anybody else again.”
“I felt sure he was going to bite me!” went on the senator’s son with a shudder.
“You certainly had a close shave, and I don’t 48wonder that it scared you, Roger. Think of facing a snake like that and not being able to run away!”
“He was down in this very hollow where my leg is first. Then he glided over to the other hollow and began to rattle and coil up to strike. If you hadn’t come down as you did, he would have struck me sure;” and the senator’s son shivered again.
“I think we had better wipe off that axe-handle, and the blade, too,” remarked Dave. “He may have gotten some of his poison on it.”
“Yes, wipe it off very carefully,” answered Roger. “But first of all I’ve got to get my foot loose. It does beat all how I got stuck.”
“You didn’t hurt your leg or your foot, did you?”
“I scraped my shin a little, but that doesn’t count.”
An inspection was made, and finally Dave had to bend down and unlace Roger’s shoe before the limb could be gotten out of the space between the two rocks. Then the footwear was recovered, and the senator’s son put it on once more. In the meanwhile, Dave took up the axe rather gingerly and also tied a bit of string to the tail of the lifeless rattlesnake.
“We’ll take it back to the camp to show the others,” announced our hero. “They wouldn’t 49believe our story unless we were able to show the snake. Besides that, we can keep the rattles if we want to. Some people prize them quite highly as trophies.”
The axe was wiped off with care, and then, after Roger had recovered his pistol and also the steel measure he had dropped, the pair scrambled up the rocks to where Dave had left his flag and the leveling-rod. He waved the flag in the air as a signal, and presently an answering signal came back from the other members of the leveling gang, who had been wondering what had become of the two assistants.
“Say, you fellows have got to attend to business during working hours!” cried Frank Andrews, when they met. “If you want to——Great catfish! where did you get that snake?” and he broke off short to gaze in wonder at the rattlesnake tied to the string that Roger exhibited.
“You have to break off business when you get an unexpected caller like that,” replied Dave dryly.
“Do you mean to say that rattler attacked you?” questioned Larry Bond quickly.
“He started to attack Roger.”
“And Dave threw the axe at him and then shot him,” explained the senator’s son.
“Some rattler! that’s what he is!” was the comment of John Hixon. “If he struck for you he certainly meant business;” and he examined the 50remains of the rattlesnake with much interest.
“We thought we heard several shots, but we were not sure,” remarked Frank Andrews.
“I guess you didn’t hear them very well because we were in something of a hollow,” answered Dave; and then he and Roger gave the particulars of what had occurred.
“You can be mighty lucky that you weren’t struck,” declared Hixon emphatically. “When I was out in the gold mines in the northern part of this state I knew a man who was struck twice by a rattler, and he came about as close to dying as any man I ever saw.”
The adventure had so unnerved Roger that Frank Andrews excused him for the rest of the day, and he went back to the construction camp, taking the remains of the rattlesnake with him. Here the story about the reptile soon spread; and that evening all the men connected with the camp came in to view the rattlesnake.
“I’m very thankful that you got out of this as luckily as you did,” remarked Mr. Obray to Roger. Then he told all of his men that they must be very careful when they went among the rocks and through the bushes. “Because, you know,” he explained, “where there is one rattlesnake there may be more. I was told by those who made the first survey for the railroad that they saw no snakes of any kind in this vicinity. Evidently, 51however, there was one snake that they missed.”
“And I hope he’s the only one,” put in Frank Andrews.
The snake scare was the main topic of conversation for several days, and it is safe to say that no one went anywhere without having his eyes wide open for a possible appearance of some reptile. But no more snakes—rattlers or otherwise—put in an appearance.
Phil had written that he would come out to Montana in about a week and would stop at the construction camp before going to the Endicott place. Dave and Roger, of course, looked forward to the visit with much pleasure.
“We’ll have to ask for a day off just to show Phil around,” said Dave.
“That’s so. And among other points of interest we can show him the spot where you killed the rattler,” answered his chum, with a grim smile.
“Yes, we can do that.”
“I hope Shadow Hamilton comes with him. I could even stand it to hear some of Shadow’s oldest chestnuts of stories,” went on Roger. “It would seem like old times at Oak Hall.”
“Let us trust that Shadow has a new batch of stories to tell,” responded Dave. “We haven’t seen him in such a while he has had plenty of time to gather in a new crop.”
52Several days went by, and the young civil engineers were kept so busy that they had little time to think about the coming of Phil Lawrence and Shadow Hamilton. Once or twice they thought of Nick Jasniff and asked Mr. Obray if that individual had shown himself.
“Not yet,” was the manager’s reply. “Maybe he got wind that you were here and that is keeping him away.”
On the afternoon of the fourth day following the killing of the rattlesnake, Dave and Roger were hard at work in Section Five when one of the general utility men around the camp came riding up on horseback and leading another steed by the halter.
“Mr. Obray sent me for you,” he announced to the chums. “You are to take these two horses and ride down to the office as fast as you can. Some young man is there that you wanted to see—the fellow who came here some days ago looking for a job.”
“It must be Nick Jasniff!” exclaimed Dave, and lost no time in leaping into the saddle. He was followed by Roger; and both hurried off along the trail leading to the construction camp.
“Let us sneak up to the office by the back way and listen to what Nick Jasniff has to say,” suggested Dave while they were on the way.
This suited Roger, and coming into view of the 53camp they left the horses at the shed and hurried along past the bunk-houses to the rear of the office. Here a window was wide open, and, looking through this, they saw Mr. Obray at a desk, and sitting near him was his visitor, hat in hand.
“There is no mistake about him. It’s Nick Jasniff,” whispered the senator’s son.
He was right, it was indeed the former bully of Oak Hall, the rascal who had been sent to prison for the robbery of Mr. Wadsworth’s jewelry works. Jasniff was talking very earnestly to the manager of the construction camp.
“Yes, I am working over at the Double Eight Ranch,” Jasniff was saying. “I’ve been there now for quite a while, but I don’t like it very much. You see, I’ve been used to office life, and working around the construction of skyscrapers, and things like that. I had a pretty good job out in San Francisco and another one in Seattle. I would much rather work for a concern like yours than to stick to cow-punching.”
“How long have you been at Double Eight Ranch?” questioned Mr. Obray. He was doing what he could to put in time until Dave and Roger might arrive.
“Been there nearly three months.”
“And did you come directly from San Francisco or Seattle?”
“Oh—I—er—came from Seattle,” responded 54Nick Jasniff hesitatingly. “I was—er—out of work for about six weeks.”
“And how long did you work in Seattle?”
“A little over a year. I would have stayed there longer, only the firm that employed me went out of business,” continued the fellow who had been in prison glibly.
“Ever been in the East—in New York or Philadelphia?”
“No, sir. I never got any farther East than Chicago.”
At this reply from Jasniff Dave poked Roger in the side and both looked at each other knowingly.
“He’s the same Jasniff,” whispered the senator’s son. “He always did have a smooth tongue.”
“Yes. And that smooth tongue of his got him into more than one difficulty,” responded our hero.
The pair remained silent for a minute or two longer listening to the questions put by Ralph Obray and the answers made by Nick Jasniff. Finally the questions became so personal that the fellow who had been in prison commenced to grow suspicious.
“Well, will you have an opening for me or not?” he demanded at last, arising to his feet.
At that moment Dave and Roger glided around the side of the office and tiptoed in through the doorway. They came up directly behind Nick 55Jasniff before he was aware of their presence.
“Here is the fellow if you want to talk to him,” said Mr. Obray quickly; and thereupon the visitor turned around, to stare in amazement at Dave and Roger.
“W—w—what——” stammered Nick Jasniff, and was unable to go on.
“You didn’t expect to see us, did you, Jasniff?” declared Dave coolly.
“You were lucky to get out of prison so quickly,” put in Roger.
“I—I—don’t know you,” faltered Nick Jasniff, and now his face grew purple while the heavy beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead.
“You don’t know us, eh?” cried Dave. “Well, we know you well enough!”
“Even if you are traveling under the assumed name of Jasper Nicholas,” added Roger slyly.
“See here! I don’t know what you fellows are talking about!” cried Nick Jasniff, straightening up. “Is this some game or not?”
“It is a game—on your part,” answered Dave, quickly.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come, Jasniff, what’s the use of talking like this? We know your game thoroughly!” burst out Roger. “We have found out all about you, and Mr. Obray here knows about you, too. He just sent for us to identify you.”
56At this announcement Nick Jasniff wheeled around to confront the manager.
“Is that true? Did you send for these fellows to come to identify me?”
“I did.” Mr. Obray’s face took on a stern look. “They had told me all about you.”
“They didn’t have any right to do that!” blustered the fellow who had been in prison.
“Yes, they did. In fact, it was their duty to do so. We are all honest men in this camp, and we have no use for fellows like you. I wanted to make sure that there was no mistake. Now I am sure, and you can get out—and stay out.”
“I think that Board of Pardons was very foolish to pardon you,” Roger could not help remarking. “They should have let you stay in prison to the end of your term.”
At this remark Nick Jasniff looked for a moment blankly at the senator’s son.
“Now, see here, you——”
“Oh, we know all about how you were pardoned,” went on Roger. “It was a big mistake. But now that they have let you go, I suppose you have as much right to earn your living as anybody.”
“But we don’t want you around where we are,” added Dave.
“Huh, I’m not taking orders from you,” blustered Nick Jasniff.
57“No, but you are taking orders from me,” interposed Mr. Obray sternly. “As I said before, I want you to leave this place. I don’t want you to come here again—understand that;” and he arose to his feet to signify that the interview was at an end.
“All right—I’ll go. But I won’t forget that you had me come over here on a fool’s errand,” grumbled Nick Jasniff. And then, as he reached the doorway and passed outside, he turned around and shook his fist at Dave and Roger. “Just you wait! Some day I’ll get square with you for this!” he cried angrily.
Then he ran swiftly toward the horse he had been riding, leaped into the saddle and rode away.
“He’s mad clean through, that’s certain,” remarked Roger, as he and Dave hurried out of the office to watch Nick Jasniff gallop away down the road leading from the construction camp.
“Yes. And I’ve no doubt but he’ll do his best to make trouble for us,” replied Dave seriously. “It’s too bad! I thought we were done with that fellow forever.”
“Do you suppose he really has a job at the Double Eight Ranch?” queried the senator’s son, after a pause, during which they noted Jasniff’s disappearance around a bend of the trail.
“He must be working somewhere. Or else somebody has supplied him with funds. He can’t live on nothing.”
“Perhaps he got his funds as he got those stolen jewels, Dave.”
“That might be true too. They say very few men reform after they have once been in prison.”
“Let us ask some of the others about this Double Eight Ranch.”
59This suggestion was considered a good one, and during the next few days they made a number of inquiries concerning the ranch in question, and learned that it was a large place located in a fertile valley about twenty miles away. It was owned by a syndicate of Western capitalists and was under the management of a man named James Dackley. The ranch employed about a dozen experienced cowboys and an equal number of assistants.
“If Nick Jasniff works there it must be simply as an assistant, since he knows little about a cowboy’s duties,” was Dave’s comment.
“Yes. And if he is only an assistant he can’t be paid very much money. No wonder he wanted to join our crowd. I suppose he thought he could earn two or three times as much.”
“Well, Roger, you can’t blame him for wanting to earn money,” returned Dave briefly. “Now that he has paid the penalty of his crime, as the laws puts it, he has as much right to go where he pleases, and work at what he pleases, as anybody.”
“Oh, I’m not begrudging him a chance to earn his living,” cried the senator’s son quickly. “I hope he reforms and gets along well in life. I only want him to keep away from where I am. I think I’ve got a right to pick my company, and I don’t propose to pick such fellows as Jasniff.”
Sunday passed, and then Dave received another 60letter from Phil Lawrence stating that the ship-owner’s son had been delayed, but that he would surely come West in the near future, and that not only Shadow Hamilton but also Ben Basswood had promised to make the trip with him. Concerning Ben, Phil wrote as follows:
“You must know how grateful the Basswoods are to you and Roger for recovering those thousands of dollars’ worth of miniatures down there on the Border. I think they feel pretty wealthy now, having been offered a fine price for some of the little paintings. So it was an easy matter for Ben to get permission to join Shadow and me when the trip was proposed. Ben is wild, thinking what a good time he is going to have, for, as you know, he has never had the chance of getting around that we have had.”
“This is better than ever!” cried Roger, when he read the communication. “Talk about old times at Oak Hall! We will tear things wide open when they arrive.”
“We’ll have to attend to our work, Roger. You know we are here to learn all about surveying and civil engineering. Our play days are very largely at an end.”
“Oh, I think Mr. Obray and Frank Andrews will let us cut loose a little—after they understand matters,” pleaded the senator’s son.
The same mail had brought the young men letters 61from Jessie and Laura and also an interesting communication from Dave’s Uncle Dunston. The two girls had been on a trip to New York with Mrs. Wadsworth, and had much to tell about their sightseeing in and around the metropolis. Both said they wished Dave and Roger had been with them.
“Too bad! But we are a long way from old New York,” sighed Roger. “My, what a grand old time we could have had, visiting Bronx Park, Coney Island, and a lot of other places!”
“Yes. And we might have taken an auto trip or two,” added Dave, his face brightening.
“And think of being with the girls, Dave!” broke in Roger wistfully. “It seems a terribly long time since we saw them, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does,” answered Dave. He gave something of a sigh. “Well, it can’t be helped. If we want to make something of ourselves in this world, we’ve got to buckle down and take the bitter with the sweet. I guess it’s just as hard on the girls. They won’t want to go out in company with any of the other fellows.”
“And we know what we are working for—and that is one comfort,” added the senator’s son.
In his communication to his nephew Dunston Porter spoke about having bought some stock in the Mentor Construction Company, and having gotten Mr. Wadsworth to make the same kind of 62investment. Between them the two had put up twenty thousand dollars.
“That sure is something worth while!” cried Roger. “It ought to help your chance with the concern.”
“Well, if it helps my chance, it’s got to help your chance, too, Roger.”
“I never thought of the company as an investment,” went on the senator’s son. “I think when I write to my father I’ll speak to him about it, and tell him of what your uncle and Mr. Wadsworth have done. Maybe my father will buy a like share.”
“That would be fine, Roger. Then both of us could feel as if we had a real personal interest in the concern we were working for. Of course, it’s only a small amount in comparison with what the construction company really has invested in this business. But every little helps.”
“Yes. And it will prove to those higher up that we have some interest beyond just earning our salaries.”
Another part of Dunston Porter’s letter referred to the clearing up of a tract of land on the outskirts of Crumville which belonged jointly to the Porters, Mr. Wadsworth and an estate which was represented by Mr. Basswood. The real estate dealer had said that now would be a good time in which to lay out streets through the tract 63and sell off the plots for building. There were several new factories being erected down along the railroad tracks, and the workingmen employed in these concerns would want homes.
“The tract has not been used for a number of years,” wrote Dunston Porter; “and during the past six summers a band of gypsies has been making its encampment there. We had quite some trouble getting the gypsies to evacuate, and a couple of them became so ugly that we had to threaten them with arrest. But they have gone at last, and we have told them that they cannot come back. We expect to lay out the streets and the plots of ground immediately, and then Mr. Basswood is going to get ready and hold a big auction sale of the various parcels. All of us hope to make quite some money by the transaction.”
“Hurrah for the auction sale of building lots!” cried Dave. “I hope they make a barrel of money. Wouldn’t it be fun to be there and see the various plots sold off?”
“I went to a sale like that in our home town years ago,” returned Roger. “They had a big tent put up and furnished refreshments, and a small brass band played selections. The auctioneer was a very gifted talker, and he made a wonderful address to the assemblage, telling them of all the advantages to be had by buying the lots. Then the agents got busy and the lots sold off like hot cakes, some for cash and some on the instalment 64plan. At that time there wasn’t a building of any kind on the land; but less than a year later there were half a dozen rows of houses and half that number of barns and garages, and now that end of the town is quite thriving.”
“I’m sure Crumville is bound to grow,” returned Dave. “Just look at what it was when I was a small boy and what it is to-day! We have three or four times as many people and stores, and we have a new railroad station with a good many more trains, and two moving picture theaters, two new schools, another church, and several new factories. And not only that, the business men have become so wideawake that they are gathering in the trade for miles around—trade that used to go to other towns.”
“Well, I hope it does grow, Dave. That will make it so much better for your folks and the Wadsworths, and also the Basswoods.”
On the morning following this conversation Dave was preparing to go out with the others when one of the clerks from the office came to him with the information that Mr. Obray wanted to see him at once. He found the manager of the construction camp deep in some papers strewn over his desk.
“Porter, would you like to go on a special errand for me over to Orella?” the manager asked abruptly. “I’ve got some important papers that 65I wish delivered, and I want to see to it that they are placed in the hands of just the right party.”
“Why, yes, Mr. Obray, I’ll be glad to do whatever you want me to,” answered Dave quickly. “It’s quite a trip though, so I’ve heard,” he added with a smile.
“I know that, Porter. But the trail is a good one all the way; and if you follow the signboards you can’t go astray. You can take a good horse, and you had better take something to eat along, too. If you start inside of the next hour, you ought to be able to get back before dark. Of course, if you have any difficulty in finding the right party, you can stay in Orella all night and come back to-morrow.”
“Oh, I think I can make the trip in one day, provided I don’t have to lose too much time in the mining camp. I’ll be ready inside of fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“Then go ahead, and when you’re ready I’ll give you the papers and also tell you who they are to be delivered to.”
When Dave rejoined his chum he told Roger about the proposed trip.
“You’re in luck, Dave!” cried the senator’s son. “That will make a dandy outing. I wish I was going along.”
“I thought at first of asking Mr. Obray to let you go,” answered Dave. “But then I got to 66thinking about the time we would want off when Phil and the others came, and I didn’t want to crowd things too much.”
“Oh, no, I’m glad you didn’t,” was the hasty response. “I don’t want to have the manager thinking we are loafing on the job.”
Dave ran over to the kitchen and there had Jeff, the cook, put him up a substantial lunch. Then he dressed himself for the long, hard ride through the mountains, and a little later presented himself again at the office.
“Here are the papers,” said Ralph Obray, handing over a large and fat legal-looking envelope. “I want you to deliver them to Mr. Raymond Carson or, if Mr. Carson is not there, to either his wife or his brother-in-law, Mr. Fred Jamison. If you deliver this to the wife or the brother-in-law, tell them that the papers are very valuable and that they must not be given to anyone but Mr. Carson.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the young civil engineer. And to make sure of the names he put them down in the notebook he carried. “I suppose I had better get a receipt for them,” he added.
“Yes, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to do that, Porter, although I know I can take your word for it. I have watched you ever since you came to work for our company, and that is why I am trusting you in the present instance.”
67“You can rely on me to do my best, Mr. Obray,” answered our hero. And then with pardonable pride he drew from his pocket the letter he had received from his uncle. “I guess this will prove to you how much I am interested in the Mentor Construction Company,” and thereupon he showed the manager the paragraph pertaining to the purchase of stock in the concern by the Porters and Mr. Wadsworth.
“That certainly is evidence!” cried Ralph Obray heartily. “I am glad to know your people take such a substantial interest in this company. I might as well tell you, my folks have an interest in it, too. But now you had better be on your way, because it’s a long trip to Orella and I won’t feel entirely satisfied until I know those papers are in the hands of Mr. Carson or those other people.”
“I’ll get them there just as soon as I can make it,” answered Dave.
And a few minutes later he was on his way, never dreaming of the strange adventure in store for him.