A Young Inventor's Pluck Part 34

"Here, over here, this way!"

Groping his way along the rafters, the young machinist soon held his sister in his arms. In a trice he cut the straps with which Corrigan had bound her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked tenderly.

"Oh, no, but I was awfully frightened!" declared the girl. She was trembling like a frightened fawn, and clung to him closely as he carried her down the ladder and into the open air.

"We'll go over to the sh.o.r.e," said Jack; "I think Mont is there. He was to follow me."

When they reached the edge of the water, they found that the young man had just landed. He was accompanied by Farmer Farrell, one of the hired men, and Meg, who had insisted upon coming along to show the way.

In a few words Jack introduced Deb, and related what had occurred.

"And now I believe these men mean harm to this Max Pooler," he said in conclusion. "If I knew the way to the cave I'd follow them at once."

"I know the way," put in Meg. "Pooler thinks I don't, but I found it out one rainy night by followin' him."

"And will you show us?" asked Jack, eagerly.

"Yep, if you want me to," replied the young girl. "Come on. 'Taint far."

"Hurry up, then. I have a feeling that every minute is valuable."

Meg led off at once, Jack and Mont following first, with Farmer Farrell close behind, and Deb helped along by the hired man, who lagged considerably, having no desire to expose himself to possible harm.

"'Taint very pleasant," said Meg, as they journeyed over rocks and stumps, and through a copse of thick undergrowth, and then over a shallow stream.

Quarter of a mile brought them to a ravine, near the center of the island.

"Here we are!" exclaimed the young girl. "There's the mouth of the cave."

She pointed to a huge rock, split directly in the center. Without an instant's hesitation, Jack entered, followed by the rest.

Bang!

A pistol shot rang out ahead!

"They've shot him, sure?" exclaimed the young machinist, darting forward.

A turn in the pa.s.sage brought him to a small square chamber hollowed out of the rock, and furnished with a table and two chairs.

He was utterly bewildered by the scene before him.

On either side of the small opening stood Mosey and Corrigan, the former with a smoking pistol in his hand. Between them lay Max Pooler, a wound in his shoulder.

But the scene upon the floor of the cave was what riveted Jack's attention. There, scattered in every direction, were gold and silver coins, amounting to many thousands of dollars.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE MISER'S TREASURE

As he stood in the cave on Blackbird Island, Jack thought he must be dreaming--the smoke and s.h.i.+ning gold and silver all dancing before his eyes.

Mechanically he moved forward and grasped hold of the pistol in Mosey's hand. The Irishman was so astonished that he relinquished the weapon without an effort.

"Stand right where you are!" commanded Jack, and he pointed the pistol so that it was nearly in range of both men.

"Cornered!" cried Corrigan, as he looked toward the cave entrance, now blocked by Farmer Farrell and his hired man, "and at the last minute, too."

Meanwhile, Mont had gone down on his knees, and was bending over the prostrate form of Max Pooler, who was bleeding profusely from the wound in his shoulder.

Picking up one of the heavy cloth bags that had contained a part of the scattered coin, the young man clapped it hastily over the bleeding spot, tying it in position with his handkerchief--an action which checked the flow considerably.

"My gold! My precious gold and silver," shrieked Pooler, never deigning to notice the effect of Mosey's hasty shot. "Put it back; put it back in the bags! Oh, don't let them take it! It's mine! All mine!" he whined.

"Never mind," put in Jack. "Don't worry. What's yours shall remain yours. Guess we have them safe, eh, Mr. Farrell?" he continued.

"Looks so," replied the st.u.r.dy farmer. "Anyway, I reckon I can keep 'em from going through this door--the pesky critters!" and, with his gun ready for use, the farmer stationed himself in the middle of the pa.s.sageway, with Deb, Meg and the hired man behind him.

"What's the cause of this row?" asked Jack, hardly knowing how to proceed, the whole affair having happened so unexpectedly.

He looked at Corrigan and then at Mosey, but both of these discomfited individuals remained silent.

"They were trying to rob me of my gold and silver," cried Pooler, "But they sha'n't do it!" he added, vehemently. "It's mine, all mine."

With his restless eyes rolling wildly, the miser--for Max Pooler was naught else--reached out his uninjured arm, and clutching the pieces of money within reach, stowed them away in his bosom.

"Better keep quiet," suggested Mont, placing his hand on the bandaged shoulder. "Your wound may be more serious than you think."

Max Pooler started.

"Do you--you think so?" he asked in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"Not being a doctor, I can't say anything certain. It depends on what direction the bullet took."

"Can I do anything?" put in Deb at this juncture. She had pushed her way past the farmer, and now stood by the young man's side.

"I guess not, Deb," Mont replied. "We haven't much at hand in the shape of hospital supplies," he added, soberly.

"Suppose we try to get him up to the house," suggested Farmer Farrell, without removing his eyes from the two who had caused all the mischief.

"I won't leave my gold and silver!" howled the miser. "Leave me here.

Never mind my arm; it will soon get well. Only take those two men away."