The Galloping Ghost

  CHAPTER XXIV UNCLE NED DOES HIS BIT

  The moon was out when they took the trail that led to Ed's cabin. Bymoving along single file in the shadows they were able to keep themselvesconcealed.

  They had covered more than half the distance to the cabin when of asudden Berley, who was in the lead, stopped short to press her companionsback into the deeper shadows.

  "Some--some one skulking about the cabin!" she whispered tensely.

  And there he was. There could be no doubt about it. The moon, skirting acorner of their cabin, left there for a space of seconds the waveringshadow of a man. Ten seconds passed, and the shadow vanished.

  "Do--do you think it's the kidnapers?" Despite her bravest efforts thegirl could not prevent her teeth from chattering.

  "Don't know who it is," the scout grumbled in a hoarse whisper. "Only oneway to deal with a skulker. Go after him!

  "Look!" He turned to Red. "In another moment a cloud will be over themoon. Only a small cloud. Soon pass. But time enough. When it gets dark,you go scooting down the Tobin's Harbor trail. He went that way. Go downtwo hundred feet or more, then drop off into the bush. I'll go round thecabin and come in from the left. When the moon comes out I'll flush himsome way. After that the best man wins.

  "You--you'd better stay here," he said to Berley.

  Berley did not stay there. As Red went skulking down that trail in thedark, she followed. She was afraid, but being in the darkness alone withprowlers about, who might carry her away, was worse than being on thefiring line.

  Obeying instructions, Red followed the trail a hundred paces or less,then dropped away into the shadows.

  Finding a place where the moss grew thick before a great rock, he drewthe girl down beside him. "Really there's no reason to be excited." Hefelt her heart's wild beating. "Probably we'll not see him again thisnight. He's just scouting around to see who's here. Not likely to findout much. He--"

  The girl's hand pressed hard on his arm. Off to the left there was asound of movement. And then the moon came out.

  Instantly from the bush an automatic barked. The shot had been fired atthe scout. He dropped--not with a bullet wound, for the rascal hadmissed--but for the purpose of securing a safe position and waiting histurn. It had been many years since any one had presumed to shoot at thisscout; years of peace they had been, and now this, a shot in the night.His mighty "shootin' iron" roared its reply.

  The thing that happened after that will never be fully credited by eitherRed or the girl, and that in spite of the fact that they saw it withtheir own eyes.

  The moon was out in all its glory. From their observation post before thegreat rock they thought they made out a skulking figure off to the rightand not far off the Tobin's Harbor trail. At the same time they caught asound of movement still further back in the bush.

  "There are more, perhaps three or four of them." Berley pressed Red's armhard. "They--they're trying to surround us!"

  How wrong she was they were soon enough to know, for the skulking figure,having come to rest, lifted his head so far above the thimbleberry bushesas to leave it in clear view.

  "That--" Red's voice was a bit unsteady. "That's one of them. Sha-shall Ishoot?"

  "No, no. That one in the bushes will get you if you do."

  Then astonishing things began to happen. The man on the moonlit traillifted his gun, took quick aim and fired, not at the scout, not at Red,but at the moving spot in the bushes.

  Instantly from out those bushes came a charging terror. All legs and headand saber-pointed antlers, he came straight at the offender who had firedthat last shot. Old Uncle Ned, veteran bull moose of Isle Royale, hadbeyond doubt been nicked by a bullet. Revenge he would have, and did.

  At sight of him the terrified gangster leaped high in air to clear thebushes. He was caught squarely by those murderous antlers. Then moose andman plunged forward into the dark clump of evergreen growing by thetrail.

  There came the sound of crashing boards, followed by the hoarse breathingof some creature engaged in a life and death struggle. There were manyseconds of this and then, staggering like a drunken man, Old Uncle Nedcame out to the trail and went slowly plodding his way into the distantdark.

  They waited for the man to appear. A moment ticked its way into eternity,a second and a third. From far away came the maniacal laugh of a loon.

  "Red," the girl whispered at last, "did you hear that cracking sound?"

  "Yes. What was it?"

  "Red, do you know what there is by that clump of black trees?"

  "No. What is it?"

  "Red, can you guess what has happened?"

  "No." Red was very patient. "What has happened?"

  "Red," she drew a long breath, "Red, there is a hole, a very deep hole,ninety feet they say, at the edge of that clump of black trees. It's anold mine, almost full of water, green slimy water. There--there was afence around it, a very poor fence. Old Uncle Ned pushed the man inthere! He--he fell part way in, Uncle Ned did, but he came out again. Theman did not come out. He will never come out."

  "Is--is that true?" Red half rose on one elbow. "Then we must try to savehim. He's bad. But he's a man. Can't let a man die that way."

  Red went creeping away in the shadows. The girl followed. When theyreached the edge of the clump of trees they found the scout flat on hisstomach, flashing a light into the dark hole that had once been a coppermine.

  "Gone, I guess," he said in a very even tone. "His cap is floating downthere. Some bubbles came up, but he--he hasn't come."

  Red squatted down beside him. The girl stood looking down. For fiveminutes, like figures posed for a piece of statuary, they held theirpositions. Then, as he rose stiffly, the scout said:

  "Gone, all right enough!" Then in a tone that was like a church belltolling in the night: "He was bad, probably all through; but for all thathe was a man. It's our duty to ask peace on his soul."

  For a moment their heads were bowed in silent prayer. Then, like a squadthat has fired a salute over a comrade's grave, they right-about-facedand marched solemnly away into the night.

  The scout led the way in silence back to the cabin. He did not stopthere, but marched straight on. The others, not a little puzzled at hisactions, paused and then followed. Before a stone slab standing out blackin the uncertain light, he paused.

  "That," he said, "marks the grave of an honest man, a copper miner. Noword is inscribed on that stone, yet the fact that he worked as a minermarks him as one who at least was willing to labor for his bread.

  "It seems a little strange," there was a curious huskiness in his voice,"that more than fifty years ago this one, whom his comrades honored witha marked grave, should have labored to dig that deep hole in the earththat, never a success as a mine, has now become a grave for one whodeserved little honor. Sort of seems to prove that no man labors invain."

  Having delivered this simple sermon, he turned and led the way back tothe cabin.

  A few moments later he left once more to return with a heavy object inhis hands.

  "Here. Take this," he said to Red.

  Red reached out for the thing, sank forward, all but dropped it, thenexclaimed:

  "Whew! How heavy!"

  "Native copper," said Ed with a smile. "Taken from the earth when thefoundation for the lodge was laid."

  "Looks as if it had been melted," said Red.

  "Probably was, before man came upon the earth. Float copper, they callit. Indians mined it on Isle Royale many generations before the white mencame. It was a prized possession. Spear points, arrow points, skinningknives, knives for fighting could be made from it."

  "But why are there no mines here now?" Red had visions of becoming apioneer copper miner. Next to steel he loved copper best of all.

  "That was tried more than fifty years ago. That's what that miner's gravemeans out there. Copper mining was tried in many places. Had it not beenfor the supposed wealth of copper deposits here, the United Stat
es wouldnever have owned Isle Royale. It would have gone to Canada. We bought itfrom the Indians. And, after years of labor, the copper miners discoveredthat copper mining on Isle Royale would never pay.

  "And now," he concluded, "it is one great big beautiful playground, thesafe home of wild life, and will be, I hope, for years to come."

  "I believe," he said, after a period of silence, "that some timeto-morrow the wind will fall. To-morrow night you may have an opportunityto tackle the great adventure--your row to Passage Island. To-night andto-morrow you must rest.

  "I'd gladly go with you when the time comes," he added thoughtfully, "butI am large and heavy. I have a left arm that goes back on me when I rowhard and long. Got a bullet there once. But you'll make it all right.You'll make it. Never fear."