CHAPTER X
INTO THE TUNNEL
"What's that?" cried Bud.
"Who's there?" demanded Nort.
The hand of Dick went toward the .45 he wore in a holster at his belt,and, it might be added, the hands of the others did also.
"Keep your shirts on," came the somewhat drawling voice of Pocut Pete,who, it seemed, had returned after shuffling off in the darkness. "Ijust winged a coyote."
"Oh," murmured Bud. "You were shooting at them, were you?" he asked.
"Not exactly," answered Pocut Pete, as he sauntered up out of thegloom. "I saw something movin' down among th' cattle, an' I knew itcouldn't be any of you fellows, so I let go at him."
"_Him!_" cried Nort. "Was it a man?"
"Looked like one," drawled Pete. "I heard you'd had trouble withrustlers before I came, so I wasn't takin' any chances. I didn't aimt' hit him, though, only t' scare him, an' I must have winged one ofthem night-owls!" He chuckled at this characterization of the coyotes.
"Let's take a look down there," suggested Bud to his cousins, theirworried interest in the stoppage of the water momentarily eclipsed bythe new excitement.
"Oh, you won't find anyone down there _now_!" Pocut Pete made haste tosay. "If it was a rustler he's far enough off by _this_ time, an' I'mnot positive I really saw one--it was so dark."
"It won't do any harm to take a look," declared Bud, and his cousinswere of the same opinion.
"Suit yourself," spoke Pete, easily. "If I did hit him let me know."
Again he moved off in the darkness, and the boy ranchers, after amoment of hesitation, started in the direction whence the shot had beenheard and the sliver of flame seen. Pocut Pete had gone on theopposite trail after returning to the boys, a fact which caused Dick toremark:
"Wouldn't you think he'd want to see if he did wing anybody?"
"He knows well enough he didn't," declared Bud in a low voice, for heand the others realized that sounds, especially voices, carried almostas clearly in the night air as across a body of water.
"What made him talk that way then?" asked Nort.
"Oh, he's--queer, I guess," replied Bud. "I don't exactly just likethe way he acts. Did you fellows hear the tinkle of glass just beforethat shot?"
"I did," answered Nort, but Dick was not so sure. "What do you make ofit?" Nort wanted to know.
"Wish I knew," spoke Bud, and then he told them about having found thesmall, thin, broken phial of dubious-smelling mixture in the bunk tentof the older cowboys.
"Do you think he takes 'dope,' or medicine of some sort?" asked Dick.
"It's hard to say," was Bud's reply. "But let's look around and seewhat we can find."
Their search was unrewarded, however. The cattle quieted down afterthe shot, and the coyotes only occasionally gave vent to theirblood-curdling yells. But as for finding anyone who had beenshot--including even a miserable coyote--there was not a sign.
"Guess Pete didn't wing anybody after all," mused Dick, as he and hischums turned back toward the camp.
"I never s'posed he did," grunted Bud. "He's a four-flusher, thatfellow is, in my opinion. I wish dad had sent me somebody else."
"He's a good cowboy," defended Nort.
"Yes, but I don't feel that I can trust him. I'd rather have one likeOld Billee, slow as he is, than two Pocut Pete chaps," grumbled the boyrancher. "But we've got other worries besides him, fellows! What arewe going to do for water, now that we have a double supply of cattle atour ranch? That's what's worrying me!"
"It's enough to worry anyone," Dick agreed. "Maybe the water will comeback, Bud."
"I hope it does," added Nort.
"We'll take a stroll through that tunnel--it's the only way to find outwhat's wrong," decided Bud. "Talk about black rabbits! I begin tothink Old Billee was more right than wrong!"
"But your bad luck, so far, isn't as bad as your father's in losingcattle from disease," remarked Nort.
"No, and I hope that the epidemic doesn't break out here at Diamond XSecond," went on Bud. "If it starts, and we don't get the water back,we may as well give up!"
He was plainly discouraged, and no wonder. He was young, and it washis first experience as a rancher "on his own." Nort and Dick, too,were a little down-hearted.
"But maybe things will look better to-morrow," suggested Nort, as theyturned in for the night, having discovered nothing alarming in thedirection where Pocut Pete had shot.
"Maybe," half-heartedly assented Bud.
But there was no water coming through the reservoir end of the tunnelpipe when the sun shone again, and, after breakfast, the boy ranchersprepared to explore the dark cave-like opening which extended under themountain.
"I hope we can turn it on," said Bud, and he looked at the concretebasin of water, trying to calculate how much longer it would last ifthe supply were not replenished. Already it was lower than it had beenthe night before, for the cattle had drunk freely during the darkness.
Lanterns were gotten ready, a supply of grub packed, weapons werelooked to (for who knew what beast might not lurk in the tunnel?) andat last the boy ranchers were ready to start.
"Good luck!" wished Yellin' Kid as the little party started for themouth of the tunnel.
"Thanks," chorused Nort, Dick and Bud.
Then they entered the black opening.
If you will imagine a hillside, with a hole, or tunnel, about ten feethigh and as broad, but of irregular shape, opening into it, and on thebottom, or floor, a two-foot iron pipe out of which, at normal times,ran a stream of water, you will have a good idea of the place intowhich our young heroes were to enter.
The tunnel extended all the way through Snake Mountain, curving thisway and that, as a brook curves its way through a meadow. In fact thetunnel had been made, centuries ago, by a stream forcing its waythrough the soft parts of the mountain, and it was this old, hidden,underground stream-way of which Mr. Merkel had taken advantage to bringwater to Flume Valley.
The stream flowed along the bottom of the tunnel course, leaving roomon either side for persons to walk, as they might walk along the banksof a stream in the open. The underground river was not more than fourfeet wide, and about the same in average depth, but in places it flowedwith a very powerful current.
"Whew! It's black as tar here!" exclaimed Dick, as they walked in pastthe pipe, and found themselves in the tunnel proper.
"As bad as the Hole of Calcutta," added Nort, who had read that grimstory of the Sepoy rebellion in India.
"Do you want to back out?" asked Bud, swinging his lantern so that itcast flickering shadows on the place where water had flowed, but wherethere was none now.
"Back out!" cried Nort. "I should say not! Lead on, Macduff!"
And they started off in the blackness of the tunnel, with only thefaint gleams of the lanterns to illuminate their way. What would theyfind?