CHAPTER V.
A DISAGREEABLE SURPRISE.
Penny's motor-cycle was a one-cylinder machine, and not a very latemodel. It weighed as much as the _Comet_, which had two cylinders andtwice as much horse-power. Matt's machine, however, was the very lastword in motor-cycle construction. In a pinch, it could streak along atsixty-five miles an hour, or, on the low gear, would do five just asreadily. It was somewhere between these two extremes that Matt had totravel in order to let Chub keep alongside, but at no time were theydoing less than a mile every two minutes.
A highway known as the Black Canyon road led to the Bluebell Mine, andby taking a cross-thoroughfare shortly after leaving the house the boyswhirled into their direct course. It was about eleven o'clock when theystarted, and they were planning to make their first halt with Delray atthe Bluebell.
"You could double the pace, Matt, if it wasn't for me," said Chub,leaning over the handle-bars and opening his machine up for all itwould stand. "This thing-a-ma-jig of Penny's ain't in the same classwith yours."
"Oh, well, it's not so bad for a back number," answered Matt. "We'redoing our thirty miles an hour just now, and I guess that's plenty.We'll make the Bluebell easily by noon," he added, cocking his eye atthe sun.
"I hope nothing has gone wrong with dad since he wrote that letter,"went on Chub, after a brief silence. "He's able to take care ofhimself, so far as Bill Jacks is concerned, but if Hawley sends anyroughs out there, something is sure goin' to happen."
"I don't believe in crossing any bridges before you get to them, Chub.We'll just push hard for the place where your father made his strike,and hope for the best."
It was half an hour after they left Phoenix when they crossed a newplank bridge over the Arizona canal, fifteen miles out.
"They weren't long getting another bridge over the canal," observedChub, as the machines left the planks and started up a gentle slopebeyond. "That was one bridge, Matt, you came pretty near not crossing,even when you got to it."
Chub referred to the time Motor Matt was racing for Phoenix to take hisplace in the bicycle contest. A hireling of Hawley's had blown up thebridge in front of the _Comet_, and Matt had been obliged to cross thechasm on a narrow stringer.
From the canal it was only five miles to the Bluebell Mine, and thedistance was rapidly covered. As the boys drew close to the derrick,the ore-dump, and the little house where the watchman usually kepthimself, they slowed down their machines and looked around expectantly.There was no sign of life about the place.
"Probably Del's in the shack, gettin' his dinner," hazarded Chub. "Iguess we could take time to eat a little something ourselves before wego on to the 'strike,' eh, Matt?"
"Del's not getting dinner, Chub," answered Matt, coming to a haltand slipping out of his saddle. "There's no smoke coming out of thechimney, and that means there's no fire in the stove. I'll bet apicayune against a last year's bird's nest that Delray isn't here."
"Hang it all!" returned Chub, leaning his machine against the wallof the house, "he's the watchman, an' he's _got_ to be here. We'llinvestigate."
They went into the house. The door had not been locked, but there wasno sign of the watchman in the cabin's single room.
"He can't be far away," averred Chub, "or he wouldn't have left thedoor like that."
"Whether Delray's here or not, Chub, that doesn't cut much of a figurewith our work," said Matt. "We know where we want to go and how to getthere."
"Sure, but I'd like to see Del and ask him if dad has tried to shootanything into Phoenix by wireless. We can lose a little time here, Iguess, without spoilin' the big end of our game."
An exclamation from Matt drew Chub's instant attention.
"Great Scott, Chub, look there!"
Matt was pointing toward the table which supported the Bluebell endof the wireless apparatus. Sending and receiving-instruments had beencompletely wrecked, and parts of them were scattered over the floor.
"Well, what d'you think of that!" muttered Chub. "Hawley was bound dadwouldn't get any message through to me by way of the Hertzian waves.Wonder if Dace Perry did this, too?"
"Not much, Chub. These instruments, like those at your house, must havebeen broken some time to-day--you see, Del hasn't even had time to pickup the scrap. If Perry smashed the apparatus at the Phoenix end ofthe line, he'd have to be chain-lightning to get here and wreck theseinstruments, too. No, it wasn't Perry."
"Think it was Jacks?"
"One guess is as good as another. I'd like to hear what Del has to sayabout this. Maybe he's down in the mine?"
"We'll take a look," said Chub, starting for the door.
The ore-dump and derrick were only a little way from the house, andthe boys were soon climbing the dump to the platform at the mouth ofthe shaft. Kneeling down at the opening in the platform, they leanedover and shouted Delray's name into the pitchy darkness below. Noanswer was returned.
"He couldn't hear us if he was in some of the levels or crosscuts,"remarked Chub. "Del was hired to keep a sharp watch on this mine whileit's lying idle, an' I don't think he'd go 'way. He _must_ be downthere. I'll go back to the house for a candle, and we'll take a huntthrough the workings."
Chub was but a minute in getting back with a couple of candles. Thesewere lighted, and the boys started down the rickety ladders, Mattleading the way.
The shaft was a hundred feet deep, and there were two levels openingoff it--one half-way down, and the other at the bottom.
Matt and Chub got off the ladders at the first level, walked to theend of the passage, and there, by means of a winze connecting thetwo levels, descended to the bottom of the mine and made their wayback to the shaft again. Thus they made the complete circuit of theworkings--and without finding any trace of Delray. They climbeddisappointedly up the shaft, after having been in the mine for abouthalf an hour.
"This is tough luck, Matt," muttered Chub. "I wonder if there has beenany foul play here? When Hawley is out for a big winning, it isn't muchthat he'll stop at."
"He wouldn't have the nerve to go too far with Delray," answered Chub."Hawley is unscrupulous, all right, but he's not going to get the lawdown on him if he can help it."
"He might have had some of his roughs run Delray off while thosewireless instruments were bein' smashed."
"No, I don't think he'd do even that. It looks to me as though somevillain had stolen into the house and wrecked the instruments while Delwas out--just as the job was done at your place in Phoenix."
"The farther we go in this thing the more mysterious it gets."
"And the more we see that Hawley is leaving no stone unturned to beatyour father out of that mining-claim. We'd better make a quick run tothe 'strike,' Chub, and see what shape matters are in there. From thelooks of things this far, the prospect worries me."
"I'm some worried myself," admitted Chub, "and I'm gloomed up a heapbecause we can't find Delray. I know where that pack-trail is, though,and we'll hit it good and hard."
While they were talking they were stumbling down the ore-dump andmaking their way to the place where they had left their motor-cycles.
"There's a lot of shady characters in these parts," Chub went on, "whowouldn't pass up a ten-dollar bill if Dirk Hawley wanted any crookedwork done. Hawley's friends are mainly among that class."
"Bad as he is, though," said Matt, "there are some good things aboutthe gambler. They say he has a daughter in school in 'Frisco, and thathe keeps her there so that neither she nor her friends will find outwhat sort of a man he is."
"That's Edith Hawley you're talkin' about, Matt. I've heard the sameyarn, but if Hawley's keeping the girl in 'Frisco an' tryin' to makeher and her friends think he's a saint, he's going to get fooled. Thegirl's here on a visit, and if she's as bright as they say, she'llfind out that----"
The words died on Chub's lips. He and Matt had rounded the corner ofthe house, and had come to a halt facing the spot where they had lefttheir machines.
_The motor-cycles were not there!_
"Stung!" gasped Chub, staring at his chum in consternation. "Am I in atrance? Didn't we leave our machines here, Matt?"
"We did," answered Matt excitedly, "and they're gone."
"Somebody must have come here an' rode 'em off while we were in themine!" cried Chub. "More of Hawley's work, and I'll bet my hat on it.He's got us now. That's the one thing he could do that would knock usout entirely. Oh, what a pair of dubs we were!"
Chub, in despair, dropped over against the side of the house and bangedat the adobe wall with his clenched fists. Matt, after a moment'sthought, darted away toward the road.
"Where you goin', Matt?" cried Chub.
"To see which way the thieves went," called back Motor Matt.
"What's the use? Think we could overhaul 'em on foot? This is whereJohnny Hardluck puts us down and out, an' no mistake!"
Chub, terribly cast down, continued to lean against the house and saythings to himself. He watched Matt absently as he ran up and down theroad, reading the signs left in the dust.
Suddenly Matt halted, turned sharply about, and called to Chub.
"We've got a fighting chance!" he yelled, peeling off his coat andcasting it by the roadside. "Strip, Chub, and unlimber those short legsof yours. There's a good hard run ahead of us."
The bewildered Chub got out of his coat and dropped it where he stood,then he started in Motor Matt's direction, wandering what was in thewind. How were the two of them, on foot, ever going to catch up withthe motor-cycles?