Читать книгу The Hermit of Gordon's Creek - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 6

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Hal spurred his horse up the trail despite Lee’s entreaties. The excited animal swung his graceful body around the sharp, narrow curve where a misstep would have meant death to his rider and to himself. But the stallion’s hoofs came down firmly upon the soft earth and with a leap they had rounded the bend, to safety.

Hal looked ruefully over his shoulder at the waterfall that rushed headlong over the precipice opposite and roared into the canyon below. The crystal waters foamed angrily into a glacial trough containing the long narrow lake basin that was popularly known as Lower Gordon’s Creek. The young man grinned at the fate he had so narrowly escaped just as Lee guided her mare carefully and safely around the bend.

“Hal,” she cried, upon seeing him rushing ahead, “don’t be so reckless! It may be something! It may be anything! There’s the mine. . . .”

Hal reined in the stallion and turned in the saddle as the girl indicated the dilapidated structure that formed the entrance to the old deserted mine. He got a flashing first impression of rotting boards and a great yawning gap in the side of the solid rock which overhung the trail. No sign of humanity in distress was there; no indication that there had been distress.

Hal called lustily, craning his neck as he looked up to the next bend in the trail. A strange, ominous silence pervaded the slope and the shrill echo of his own voice sounded harsh and eerie. Lee reined in her mare behind him, breathless and grave.

“You can’t deny that it’s strange, Hal,” said she in an awed whisper. “We both heard that cry—the cry of a man, yet now there isn’t a sign of anyone.”

“A fast rider could have reached that bend,” said Hal thoughtfully, with his eyes cast on the ground. “Look! There’s the tracks of more than one horse—two horses, I’d like to bet anything. And there they are again up at the entrance to the shaft,” he added, throwing his reins to Lee and jumping to the ground. “It’s as clear as the nose on your face.”

Lee smiled at this inelegant simile, but only for a moment as Hal’s next move caused her face to darken with apprehension. He was headed straight for the entrance to the deserted mine.

“Now, Hal, what good . . . what . . . Can’t you ride up to the bend and see if there isn’t someone ahead of us? Come on, we haven’t an awful lot of time to stop at Mr. Winters’ place anyhow. Please!”

“We’ll have time enough for everything, Lee,” he said with a winning smile. “Besides, if anyone did reach the bend before I came in sight, they’re just that much further away now. I won’t be a minute—I just want to take a peek.” Then: “Do you suppose it could have been Pedro and . . .”

“Of course not,” Lee interposed hastily. “This trail would take them three miles out of their way. They take a trail on the lower slope and work their way up-stream. This would be an awful roundabout way for them—they’d have absolutely no reason for doing it. And if they did, they would have been gone this five hours. Now, Hal, you haven’t even a search-light. They say it’s awfully dark in there.”

Hal grinned. “Most mines are, aren’t they? But don’t worry, Lee, I can’t go very far without a light. Besides, it may be that that was old Crosley’s ghost. He might have got tired being cooped up in one mine for so many years and ran away with a whoop, huh?”

Lee thrummed her slim brown fingers upon the edge of her saddle. “Hal, please don’t,” she pleaded. “I have a feeling about it somehow. A feeling that . . .”

“It was a ghost on horseback,” Hal interposed, laughing. He had sauntered up before the entrance and stepped forward determinedly. “Well, here goes, Lee. Do you think I ought to yell yoo-hoo or go right in and introduce myself to the ghost? On second thought I guess I’ll go right in,” he added as his bright eyes noted some curious tracks about the place. “Be out in a jiff.”

Hal felt not so gay as he had talked. His face looked drawn and perplexed when once he had turned his back upon the girl and entered the deep twilight within the rotted enclosure. He experienced no fear; certainly he apprehended no ghostly situation, but he felt as did Lee, that the muffled cry they had heard had some mysterious relation to the forbidding looking mine. And being human and curious, he wanted to see for himself.

There was a passageway, long and narrow, that extended back further than his blinking eyes had the power of seeing. He supposed that the shaft must be sunk at the end of that, but he realized that it would be foolhardy to attempt to go too far. After all, he had but one reason for entering the dank-smelling place and that was to see if anyone was really hiding in there.

Suddenly he bethought himself of some matches he had in his pocket. He laughed softly as he secured them and lifting his foot attempted to strike one against the sole of his shoe. But it took three before he got the desired result.

“Anybody in here?” he called as he held the flickering match high above his head. “We thought we heard somebody cry just before. Oh, yoo-hoo!” he fairly yelled and then laughed at his own foolishness.

But the laughter was short-lived and ended by catching queerly at his throat as something ran over his foot. A rat? He couldn’t tell for the flickering flame of the match lighted only a tiny area of the moldy wall and roof. The rest of the place was steeped in inky darkness. Then the match went out.

He tried to hum while striking another match, but the sounds that came from his lips sounded flat and artificial. He felt better when another little flame spurted out from under his palm and he advanced courageously some fifteen feet.

“It’s the bunk,” he said aloud. “It’s . . . why . . .”

Without knowing why, he stopped. Something, someone was in that mine. He could almost feel it. Of course, the place was stifling, the dampness oppressive, yet withal he felt an occasional undercurrent of warm air. It was perplexing, unnerving.

Suddenly a rush of air extinguished the match and without warning something tugged at his feet pulling them clear from under him. The next second some terrific force seemed to strike at the back of his head and he immediately felt as if he were spinning down, down through space.

Then came oblivion.