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diff --git a/44111-0.txt b/44111-0.txt index 176b052..31f0a5a 100644 --- a/44111-0.txt +++ b/44111-0.txt @@ -1,35 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Dynamite, by Roy J. Snell - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Red Dynamite - A Mystery Story for Boys - -Author: Roy J. Snell - -Release Date: November 5, 2013 [EBook #44111] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED DYNAMITE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44111 *** _A Mystery Story for Boys_ @@ -5600,361 +5569,4 @@ what the secret? Read and see. 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Snell</title> @@ -148,44 +148,7 @@ p.t15,div.t15,.t15 { margin-left:19em;text-indent:-3em; margin-top:0; margin-b </style> </head> <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Dynamite, by Roy J. Snell - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Red Dynamite - A Mystery Story for Boys - -Author: Roy J. Snell - -Release Date: November 5, 2013 [EBook #44111] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED DYNAMITE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44111 ***</div> <div id="cover" class="img"> <img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Red Dynamite" width="500" height="723" /> @@ -6547,381 +6510,6 @@ seal and what the secret? Read and see.</p> <li>Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.</li> <li>In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)</li></ul> - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Dynamite, by Roy J. Snell - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED DYNAMITE *** - -***** This file should be named 44111-h.htm or 44111-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/1/44111/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44111 ***</div> </body> </html> diff --git a/44111.txt b/44111.txt deleted file mode 100644 index edcf2d7..0000000 --- a/44111.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5966 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Dynamite, by Roy J. Snell - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Red Dynamite - A Mystery Story for Boys - -Author: Roy J. Snell - -Release Date: November 5, 2013 [EBook #44111] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED DYNAMITE *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - _A Mystery Story for Boys_ - - - - - RED DYNAMITE - - - _By_ - ROY J. SNELL - - - The Reilly & Lee Co. - Chicago - - COPYRIGHT, 1936 - BY - THE REILLY & LEE CO. - PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I Gold from the Sky 11 - II The Bridge Falls 27 - III With the Aid of Nicodemus 40 - IV The Haunted Pool 52 - V The Crimson Flood 62 - VI Old Kentucky 76 - VII Panther Eye's Return 85 - VIII Ha! Ha! Big Joke! 94 - IX The "Ghost" Walks Again 106 - X Kentucky's Downfall 119 - XI A Ride in the Night 133 - XII Strange Wealth 141 - XIII A Strange Bear Hunt 152 - XIV Wild Men, Baboons, and Something Strange 162 - XV Victory 175 - XVI One Minute to Play 181 - XVII Gliding Toward Fresh Adventure 193 - XVIII Ten Gallons of Air 199 - XIX With the Speed of a Whirlwind 210 - XX In the Grip of a Giant 219 - XXI Dynamite Takes It on the Chin 234 - - - - - RED DYNAMITE - - - - - CHAPTER I - GOLD FROM THE SKY - - -"You mean to say he takes those big, jug-like things down there empty and -brings them up full?" Johnny Thompson, the boy from Illinois who had -travelled far and seen many strange things, stared at Ballard Ball, the -red-headed boy of the Cumberland Mountains of Kentucky, with surprise. If -the truth were told, he found himself doubting the other boy's story. - -Here he was standing in the grinding room of an old fashioned mill -watching massive stone wheels grind the corn he had carted from his -cousin's store and at the same time discovering what promised to be a -first class mystery right down here in the slow old Cumberland mountains -where, he had supposed, nothing unusual ever happened. - -"But what's down there?" He was looking at the floor of the mill. At the -same time he was hearing a curious sound, a sucking and hissing that -might, he thought, have been the working of a small steam engine. But of -course there was no steam engine, for there was no smoke stack and no -smoke. - -"Nothing down there but water. Some machines he brought months ago. -They're down there. The water wheel runs them," the other boy drawled. -"Of course he wouldn't bring water up in the jugs and cart them away. Why -should he? There's water everywhere. This river runs for miles. Besides," -his voice dropped, "that stuff he brings up is queer. It's cold and it -smokes. Yes sir, a sort of white smoke comes off it all the time." - -"White smoke," Johnny said slowly. "And it's cold. That's odd!" - -"You'd have thought it was odd!" Ballard gave vent to a low chuckle. "I -stood with my leg against one of those jugs--if that's what they -are--once and all of a sudden my leg tingled and went sort of dead. I -jumped away quick, but not quick enough. Three or four days after that, -the skin all peeled off the side of my leg." - -"Cooked your leg!" Johnny exclaimed. - -"It must have!" Ballard amended. - -"How--how long's he been doing it?" Johnny asked. - -"Almost a year!" - -"A year!" Johnny whistled. "And you never asked him what it was he was -bringing up nor how he got it?" - -"No-o." The other boy smiled a queer smile. "He pays me for my work here, -keeping the grinding mill going, pays me well and besides--" He -hesitated. "Well, you know, we mountain folks don't like for other people -to ask us too many questions so, naturally, we don't ask too many -ourselves. - -"Not," he added hastily, "that there are not people round about here who -are burning up to know all about it. There are. But up to now nary a one -of 'em's learned anything worth telling." - -"You're a good watchman," Johnny laughed. - -"I sleep here at the mill," the mountain boy said simply. "And the lower -part of the mill, down where he makes that--that stuff, whatever it is, -is boarded up pretty tight, all two inch planks, spiked good and plenty. -You see--" Ballard broke off. "Wait a little. There's Aunt Sally Ann -Setser out there. She's got rheumatism, sort of stiff in her joints. I'll -take down her bag of corn to her." - -Left to himself, Johnny allowed his eyes to roam about the place. This -was no ordinary grinding mill. It was much larger. Before the stranger -came with his unusual hissing machinery or pumps, and his more unusual -something that was produced apparently from water, or air, or just -nothing at all, it had been used in other ways. He remembered hearing -Cousin Bill say it had been a sawmill, that logs had been floated down to -it in the spring when the water was high. But now there were no more logs -and no sawmill. - -Johnny's eyes strayed through the open door and up to the crest of the -rocky ridge known as Stone Mountain. "Worth exploring," he told himself. -"Caves up there I've heard,--and bears. Sometimes the natives hunt them. -Boy! Fellow'd have to watch out!" Johnny heaved a sigh of contentment. He -loved these slow-going mountain people, loved the mountains as well. In -the spring when all the little streams, and the big ones too, went -rushing and roaring by, when the birds sang to the tune of those rushing -waters and white dogwood blossoms lay like snow banks against the hills, -that was wonderful! - -In the autumn when leaves turned to red and gold, when chestnut burs were -opening and the coon hunter's dogs bayed from the hills, that was grand -too. - -Yes, Johnny liked it all. But this mystery of the old mill promised to -make his stay doubly interesting. "Just think of an old man coming down -into these hills and setting up a mill for creating something of real -value out of water and air," he murmured. "Gold from the sky, almost. But -I'm going to find out about it." - -Once again his thoughts swung back to mountain scenes. His cousin Bill, -who was a young man with a family, had moved down here and set up a small -store. Bill was doing very well. Johnny was always welcome. He clerked in -the store, made trips like this to the mill and helped in every way he -could. - -"Somebody told me there was a cave up there along the ridge," he said to -Ballard, as the boy came shuffling back into the mill room. - -"Yep. There is. Regular good one!" he answered. "Lot of these white -icicles in it. Look like icicles but not really icicles you know." - -"Stalactites and stalagmites," Johnny suggested. - -"That what you call 'em?" Ballard stared. "Looks like there might be an -easier name to say. But they're there anyway. Want to go up there? Don't -have to go back right away do you? I'll be through in less than an hour. -Then we'll go up." - -"We--ll," Johnny reflected for a moment. "Just so I get back by early -candle light. I guess it will be all right." Just at that moment had -there been any mountain imps about, and if there were such creatures as -imps, we might imagine one whispering to Johnny: "As if you'd ever get -back by early candle light!" But there are no imps, so there was no -whisper. - -As Johnny stood there a feeling of uneasiness, not to say of guilt, crept -over him. At first he was at a loss to know what it was all about. Then, -like a sudden bang from a squirrel hunter's gun, it came to him. - -"Ran away!" he exclaimed in an undertone. "Ran away. That's what I did." - -Yes, that was just what he had done. The call of the Cumberlands had been -too much for him. The whisper of breezes among the hilltops, the chatter -of squirrels in the chestnut trees, the gleam of water in deep pools -where sly old black bass lurk, had been too strong for him. He had run -away. - -Run away from what? The strangest thing! Not from his home. Johnny had no -home except the home of his grandfather at old Hillcrest. There he was -free to come and go as he chose. He had not run away from his job either, -at present he had no job. He had run away from a promise. - -In Hillcrest, the little home city of his grandfather, there was a -college, not a large college, but a very fine one. The students were a -sturdy hard-working lot, the professors wise and friendly. - -No, Johnny had not promised to attend college. "College is fine for some -people," Johnny had said. "Fine for a lot of fellows, but not for me. -Imagine me sitting still for a whole hour listening to a lecture on Plato -or the fifth nerve of a frog. Some people are born for action. That's me. -I can't sit still." - -Action. Yes, that was the word, and it was action Johnny had promised. He -had told Coach Dizney that he would get out and scout around among the -nearby small cities for good football material. The coach had a good -team--almost. He was short two or three good players. More than all else -he needed a left half-back. Johnny had promised to find him that -particular player. - -"And I failed!" Johnny groaned. - -So he had. Johnny did not play football. He was handicapped by a bad knee -that doubled up under him as soon as he ran fifty yards. But Johnny knew -a good player when he saw one. Johnny was a lightweight boxer of no mean -reputation. He could put a man through a series of action that told him -very quickly what he would be worth behind the line of scrimmage. Even -Coach Dizney admitted that it was uncanny the way Johnny picked them. He -had sent Johnny out to scout, then had hurried away for a vacation in the -north woods. Johnny had scouted faithfully for two weeks with no results -worthy of mention. Then the call of the mountains had got him. - -"I failed him," he groaned. "Failed the good old coach." - -He was full of self reproach but the lure of the hills held him. Oh well, -there were still two full weeks before college opened. He'd have a -breathing spell here in the Cumberlands. Then he'd go back and pick 'em. -Oh! Wouldn't he though? - -A half hour later all guilty thoughts were banished by Ballard's cheerful -drawl: "All right now, we can go. Buck Howard's here. He'll tend the -mill. Your corn will all be ground by the time we get back." These -mountain mills, like the mills of the gods, grind slow but they grind -exceeding fine. Cousin Bill made a nice profit by trading "brought on" -groceries, sugar, baking-powder, and spices for corn. He had the corn -ground at this mill then shipped it out to special customers who liked -this fine ground corn meal. - -"Here's little Bex Brice," Ballard said. "He wants to go along. Real -name's Bexter, but we call him Bex. Old as I am, Bex is, but you forgot -to grow, didn't you Bex?" - -The short, sturdy-looking, freckled faced boy grinned and said, "I -reckon." Then they were away. - -"I suppose you know every rock up here," said Johnny, as they went -scrambling up and up, over an all but perpendicular trail. - -"Mebby I do," Ballard admitted. "But Bex knows 'em better. He's a regular -mountain goat, Bex is." - -"Saw a bear up here day before yesterday," Bex put in eagerly. "Regular -big one. Scared me half to death." - -"Sure nuf?" Ballard paused to stare. "Must have come over the mountains." - -Without quite forgetting the bear, they struggled on up the rocky slope. -Johnny was thinking, "Suppose we get back into the cave and the bear -comes after us?" He did not quite know the answer to this. To ask, -however, might be showing what these folks called "the white feather," so -he did not ask. - -Instead he began wondering again what that old man could produce down -there beneath the mill, out of water and air. "He takes nothing down but -brings something up." Here indeed was a puzzler. "If he took some of the -corn down there you might think he was making moonshine whisky," he told -himself. "And--and perhaps he does when Ballard is asleep. And yet--" - -Someone had told him that this old man, Malcomb MacQueen, had a noble -character, that he had helped bring well educated teachers down to the -school at the fork of the river. "Wouldn't do that and then go peddling -poisonous moonshine," Johnny thought. There had been men who did good -deeds to cover up the evil that was hidden in their hearts. But somehow, -he had a feeling that moonshine was not the answer. "What can it be?" he -asked himself. Johnny's reflections were broken in upon by a word from -Ballard. - -"Listen," he whispered, as seizing Johnny's arm he brought him to a -sudden halt. - -To Johnny's keen ears came a faint, high keyed sound. - -"It's a pig, a young pig! He's squealing. Something's got him!" It was -Bex who whispered this excitedly. - -For one full minute the three boys stood there, breathing softly, -silently listening. Then Ballard murmured low, "He's coming this way. -We--we'd better hide." His eyes, searching the ridge above, spied a -cluster of beech trees clinging to the rocks. "Up! Up there." - -Next instant, without a sound they were scrambling from rock to rock on -their way up. Just as they reached the cluster of trees, Ballard's foot -loosened a rock that went bumping and bounding downward to make at last -one wide leap and land in a narrow meadow far below. - -"Oh!" On Ballard's face was a look of consternation. - -Johnny's lips formed one word: "Why?" - -"There's been hog stealin'," Ballard whispered. "Uncle Mose Short has -lost three. Lige Field lost two. If we catch the thief it will just -naturally be something." - -For some little time after that there was silence. From time to time, -ever a little louder, there came the frantic appeal of the pig. - -Then, quite suddenly, a fresh sound burst upon their ears. A blue and -white airplane came swooping across the ridge. - -"Going to Frankfort," Johnny suggested, "or Louisville." To him the -soaring plane was not a novel sight. To the mountain boys, it was an -object of wonder. Even Johnny was surprised and a little startled when -the plane, instead of streaking across the sky, circled twice then, like -some lone, wild duck, came to rest on the narrow meadow far below. - -"Motor trouble forced him to land, perhaps," Johnny whispered. - -"Reckon we can't hardly be sure of that," was Ballard's surprising reply. -"Judge Middleton rented that meadow to a stranger. When he asked him what -he meant to do with it he said he wasn't prepared to say. Mebby he's just -got it for his airplane." - -"Boy! Oh, boy!" Bex whispered excitedly. "I sure do hope so! I've always -wanted to see one of them things right close up. I--" - -"Sh!" Ballard put a hand over the small boy's mouth. There was scarcely -need for this. At that moment from very close at hand, there came the -heart-rending cry of a baby pig in mortal terror. And, before one of the -boys could move or breathe, along the trail, below them and all too -close, there came the hugest bear they had ever seen. And closely gripped -between his gleaming teeth was the hopeless porker. - -"There--there's your hog thief," Johnny whispered low, as the bear -vanished round a boulder. "What you going to do about it?" - -"N--not a thing," Ballard stammered. Whereupon the three boys, seized -with a nervous desire to laugh, all but burst their sides holding in. - -In the midst of this, Ballard sobered with a suddenness that was -startling. With a shaky finger he pointed as he hissed: "Look! Just look -down there!" - -The other boys looked, then stared. Almost directly beneath them was a -narrow, swinging bridge across a rocky chasm. It was a foot bridge made -of boards and light cables. Ballard had crossed this bridge hundreds of -times, but always on foot. Never had he seen horse or mule attempt to -cross it. But at this moment, as they stared, expecting instant -catastrophe, they saw, standing at the very center of the old and fragile -bridge, a huge, black mule. - -"It's Sambo," Ballard said hoarsely. "Uncle Mose Short's Sambo! Poor old -Uncle Mose! His mule will never make it. The cables are sure to break. -The mule will be killed. It's the only mule Mose ever had, or ever will -have. Wonder what made him try to cross?" - -"Got untied somehow," Bex suggested. "Went out hunting for Mose. We got -to do something. We really must." - -Just at that moment, the small pig gave an unearthly squeal. - -"The bear!" Ballard whispered in an awed tone. "He's up there ahead of us -on the trail somewhere. There's no way to get down to the bridge but to -go right up ahead there where the bear went." - -Johnny rose. He wanted to go but something seemed to hold him back. He -knew Uncle Mose, the oldest mountaineer of that region, knew and loved -him. Uncle Mose was a famous cook. He could make the most marvelous -stewed chickens and dumplings. Uncle Mose's mule should be saved somehow. -But how? - -Just then Ballard spoke. "Look! There's someone coming from the other -way! Why! It's Mr. MacQueen! The man that owns our mill!" - -Johnny stared. So that was the man! The man who went down into that -mysterious lower portion of the ancient mill. "He takes down empty jugs -and brings them back up full," he whispered to himself. - -"Malcomb MacQueen, that's his name," Ballard said as if he had read -Johnny's thoughts. - -This small, gray haired man with a quick nervous stride had appeared -around a bend. At sight of the mule on the bridge, he stopped and stared. -He stood there for ten seconds only. Then he sprang forward. - -"Look!" Ballard was on his feet, ready to slide down the slope to the -trail and to follow that trail, to face the bear and fight him if he -must. "Look! Mr. MacQueen is going on the bridge! And he must not! Must -not! The cables won't hold another pound. One side is half rusted away. -Come on! Come on! Come quick!" Slipping and sliding, he led the way down -the steep slope to the trail below. - -Johnny's mind was in a whirl. "The bear, the bridge, the mule, Malcomb -MacQueen," he thought over and over. For all that, he followed Ballard as -closely as he dared. - -Strangely enough, at that moment, like a sudden burst of light, his duty -to Hillcrest College and the coach stood out before him. If he went down -there when would he come back? Somehow he felt himself being drawn from -the path of duty. And yet, when approaching tragedy calls, one must obey -that call. - - - - - CHAPTER II - THE BRIDGE FALLS - - -The moments that followed were the wildest ever experienced by the young -trio, Johnny, Ballard, and Bex. Casting aside all caution, they went -gliding down the rocky mountainside at a perilous speed. - -"Come on!" Ballard cried. "We gotta' stop him, save him. He's the best -man that ever lived. He's fed folks when they were nearly starving. He -put our school back where it's fine. He--he's helped hundreds of people. -Now if the bridge breaks--if he goes down--" - -He did not finish. His feet came down hard on the narrow trail. This -brought back to his mind with the force of a blow, the realization that -but a moment before, a huge bear had gone up that trail. The bear carried -a half-grown pig in his mouth. - -"You don't dare molest a dog when he's eating," he whispered to his -companions. "No more do you dare interfere with a bear. But we gotta' go -that way. Have to be sly and cautious, that's all. Not a word now." - -Next instant, on tiptoe but with utmost speed, he was away. - -Johnny caught his breath, then followed. Little Bex brought up the rear. -Now they rounded a huge boulder. Was the bear there? No. A clump of pines -lay straight ahead. Behind those, waiting, ready to roar and spring -perhaps? - -Strangely enough, though he moved forward silently, Ballard was not -thinking of the bear. He was thinking instead, of the little drama, that -like a moving picture, was being played out beneath them. The swaying -bridge, the mule, the gray haired benefactor of a whole community, all -played a part in the drama, that for the time, was hidden from their -view. What was happening? Would the man go on the bridge in an attempt to -save the mule? Mr. MacQueen loved Uncle Mose, indeed he loved every one. -That mule was Uncle Mose's chief treasure. Without him, he could not earn -a living. If the gray haired man went on the bridge, would it break? And -if it did? Ballard could not bear to think. And all the time he was -speeding forward. - -Soon he would be at a point where once more he could look down and see -that bridge. From this point, by following a trail that was little more -than a chance to slide over the rocks, he could hope to reach the bridge. - -"But first the bear," he thought. "I must be careful. I must--" - -He broke short off. Just at that moment, a mountain of dark, brown fur, -went rolling away from him to disappear through a dark hole that led into -the side of the mountain. - -"The cave!" Ballard panted. "I forgot all about it! He's gone in there. -We're safe. But come on. Come on quick!" - -One moment more and they were looking down on the bridge. The mule was -still there. It seemed more than probable that his fat sides had stuck -between the wires along each side of the bridge, that he could neither go -ahead nor turn back. This, the boys will never know for certain. - -Their eyes did not linger long on the mule for there, stepping boldly out -on the slightly swaying bridge, that even seen from above appeared to -shudder, was the mysterious, little gray haired man, Malcomb MacQueen. - -"Go back! Go back!" Ballard shouted these words. But the wind was against -him. The aged man was slightly deaf. Apparently he did not hear for he -walked straight on. - -The three boys stood aghast, watching. Now he was ten feet from the solid -rock he had left, now twenty, now thirty. - -"I--I'm going down there," Bex muttered hoarsely. Next instant like a -miniature landslide, he went plunging down the perilous slope. - -Cupping his hands, Ballard shouted once again: - -"Go back! Mr. MacQueen! Go back!" - -This time, his voice, sharpened with an edge of despair, carried far. The -man on the bridge paused. He looked up. Ballard heaved a sigh of relief. -"Surely now he will turn back," he told himself. - -But apparently he had not been understood for the old man merely waved a -hand, then went on, a step, two, three steps,--while the ancient, rusty -bridge shuddered and swayed more and more. - -Then, when all hope seemed gone, a miracle appeared to have happened. Bex -who, mere seconds before, had stood beside the boys, appeared at the end -of the bridge beneath them. - -"Mr. MacQueen!" he screamed, "go back! The bridge is not safe. Too much -weight. It will break. Go back! Go back!" - -"It's Sambo," was the astonishing reply. "What could Uncle Mose do -without Sambo?" He took one more step. - -"Mr. MacQueen go--" Bex did not finish for at that instant the thing -happened. Something like a pistol shot rang out, the breaking of one -cable. For ten terrible seconds, while the man clung to wires and the -mule hung trapped in midair, the other cable held. And then, with a -sickening swirl, the bridge went crashing down and over until it struck -the rocky wall below. - -"Come--come on," Ballard breathed hoarsely. "We got--gotta' go down." - -Just how they went down that rocky wall, Johnny will never know. Now he -found himself hanging by his hands to a ledge feeling with his toes for a -foothold, now racing along a shelving bit of rock where a slip meant -disaster and now, gripping the root of a gnarled and twisted tree, he -fairly threw himself into the waiting arms of an evergreen below. - -A short, brief, breath-taking struggle, it was. Bruised and scratched but -with no serious injuries, they reached the bottom at last. - -To their vast surprise, as they neared the wreck of the bridge, some huge -creature reared himself on high, uttered a startling "he-haw-he-haw," and -went clattering away over the dry bed of the ravine. - -"It's Sambo!" Johnny said in an awed whisper. - -"You can't kill a mule," Ballard muttered. "He should have known that." -He pointed at a crumpled heap of gray on the ground. That heap was -Malcomb MacQueen. - -With aching heart, the mountain boy bent over him. - -"He's unconscious, but he's breathing," he said slowly. "We've got to get -him out of here. It's less than a half mile to the end of the run. Then -there's a meadow." - -"And an airplane," Johnny replied hopefully. "Remember? That plane landed -there." - -"That's right!" A look of hope came to Ballard's face. "Do you suppose -he--but we'll have to have some way to carry him." - -"Here!" Johnny's strong arms were tearing away at a short section of the -broken suspension bridge. "Here I'll tear this off. Break those wires. -There, there you are! Now. Just lift him up. Gently! Gently!" - -The groans of the aged man, as he was moved, brought tears to Ballard's -eyes. - -Strangely enough, Johnny was thinking. "He made something out of nothing, -sold it and used the money to help others, took gold from the sky, you -might say. This man did that." Little did he dream that his words "took -gold from the sky" were almost literally true. - -But there was no time for wandering thoughts. There was need now for -strength, speed and wisdom. The bed of the dry stream over which they -must travel was boulder-strewn and rough. - -Strong arms and willing hearts enabled them to accomplish the difficult -task. Just as the stranger in his airplane was warming up his motor for a -take-off, he saw two boys come out on the end of the meadow. They were -carrying something. He guessed it might be an injured person. They put -down their burden and waved frantically. Shutting off his motor, he -hurried toward them. - -"What's happened?" he demanded when he came racing up to them. - -"The bridge! The--mule," little Bexter stammered. "He--he fell." - -"You see," Johnny explained more coherently. "The suspension bridge fell -when he was on it. We--we're afraid he's badly hurt." - -"Let's look him over." The aviator was young, brisk and business-like. -His slim fingers moved rapidly over the silent form. "Leg broken, that's -sure," he muttered. "Bump on the head, not too bad. - -"We've got to get him to a doctor at once." His voice took on a note of -command. "Where's the nearest doctor?" - -"At the Gap, fifteen miles away!" Ballard's tone told his despair. "Wagon -road, all rocks. Take hours!" - -"That's out!" the aviator decided instantly. "Come on," he said to -Johnny. "Lift him up. I'll take this end, now! March!" He led the way -toward the airplane on the double-quick. - -"I've got blankets. Make him a litter on the floor of my airplane cabin. -We'll have him at a city hospital in short notice," the aviator said. - -"You'll take him by air?" Ballard stared. - -"Sure! Why not?" - -"Tha--that," Ballard replied huskily, "will be noble." - -"Now then," the pilot said ten minutes later. "Who's going along to look -after him? Two of you if possible." - -"I--I. How I'd like to!" Ballard was near to tears. "But he'd want me to -stay with the mill. It--it might be terribly important." - -"All right you other two!" - -Little Bexter gulped. He turned first red then white. It was evident that -he had never ridden in a plane. - -"I'll go," Johnny said quietly. "Be glad to." An airplane was nothing new -to him. - -"I--I'll go," little Bexter breathed. "Bal--Ballard," he caught his -breath sharply, "you--you tell my folks I might not come back -nev--never." - -"Oh come now, sonny!" the aviator exclaimed. "It's not half as bad as -that. Tell his mother he'll be home for breakfast. Hot cakes and -molasses. Hey, son?" He gave Bexter an assuring slap on the back. - -Two minutes later they were in the air, all of them but Ballard. Skimming -along over the narrow meadow, they rose higher and higher until the whole -beautiful panorama of the Blue Ridge--Big Black Mountain, Little Black, -Pine Ridge, and all the rest, lay spread out beneath them. - -Little Bexter drew in a long, deep, breath, then shouted in Johnny's ear: -"I never dreamed it could be like this. I--" - -He broke off. A pair of keen, gray eyes, were studying his face. Malcomb -MacQueen had apparently regained consciousness. - -Johnny too saw those eyes and liked them. "Keen eyes," he thought. "He -knows a great deal. Hope I can get to be his friend." Then again came -that haunting question: "How could this man go down into a mysterious -space beneath a grist mill and by setting some sort of machinery in -motion, produce something very valuable out of nothing but air and water? - -"Perhaps he will tell me," he thought. "But at least, not now." He saw -those gray eyes close, whether in unconsciousness or sleep, he could not -tell. Sleep under such unusual circumstances appeared impossible, but -this, he realized was a remarkable man. - -It seemed to Johnny that the time consumed in that journey was remarkably -short. To his utter surprise, he found himself circling over the roofs -and chimneys of a sizeable city. Next moment, with a speed that was -startling, they were shooting downward for a landing. - -"Qui--quick trip," he said to the pilot a moment later. - -"Been quicker if my new motor were complete!" was the mysterious pilot's -strange reply. - -But here were officers, doctors, an ambulance, all ordered in advance by -two-way airplane radio. The little gray haired man was lifted out -tenderly, then whisked away. - -"You making a new kind of motor?" Johnny asked the pilot when everyone -had departed. - -"Motor's not as new as the fuel I'll use," was the reply. - -"What kind of fuel?" Johnny ventured. - -"You'd be surprised!" The pilot looked away. "More foot pounds of energy -for its weight than any yet discovered. Go around the world in non-stop -flight--perhaps." - -"Whew!" Johnny breathed. - -"Say! I'm starved!" the pilot exclaimed. "Guess we've done all we can for -your friend, at least for the present. Want something to eat, you boys?" - -Did they? Little Bexter grinned from ear to ear. - -Early next morning they found themselves once more standing beside the -airplane. A boy about Johnny's age had just arrived. - -"I'm Donald Day, Malcomb MacQueen's grandson," he introduced himself. "I -want to thank you for looking after my grandfather," he said to Johnny -and Bexter. - -"How--how is he?" Little Bexter's words stuck in his throat. - -"He's pretty badly busted up!" Donald Day wrinkled his brow. "But he's -tough. He's always lived right. The doctors say he will pull through but -it will take a long time. And during that time," he squared his -shoulders, "during that time I'm to carry on his work." He jingled a -bunch of keys. - -"In--down there in that space beneath the mill?" Johnny breathed. - -The other boy shot him a quick look. "Yes. Down there," he replied -quietly. - -A hundred questions were pressing in Johnny's mind demanding an answer. -He asked none of them. - -"All right boys," said the pilot. "I promised to have this little fellow -home for breakfast." He touched Bexter's shoulder. "So guess we better -step on the gas." - -"Yes," Johnny thought. "Same old gas. But what fuel could he have been -speaking of yesterday? A fresh mystery. I'm sure going to solve that one -too." - -Then, as the big man-made bird took to the air, he thought once more of -his promise to the coach. "Told him I'd find him a real half-back," he -thought for the hundredth time. "Be strange if I found him right down -here in the mountains. But then, of course I won't. Oh well, I'll have a -day or two of fishing. After that I'll go back on the hunt for a -half-back. Pray for luck, that's what I'll do." - - - - - CHAPTER III - WITH THE AID OF NICODEMUS - - -Anyone witnessing the return of little Bexter to his home that morning -might well have supposed that he had made at least two non-stop flights -round the world, instead of one short trip to Louisville. - -"Oh! Bex! Y'er back!" his small brother exclaimed. "You bin way up in the -air! You bin all the way to Louisville!" - -"Yes, I reckon," Bex's eyes were on his mother. She said never a word. -Her face was a mask. "All the same," Ballard whispered, "she's dabbing at -her eyes when we don't look." - -"It's a great moment for Bex's folks," Johnny smiled a happy smile. "I'm -glad we got him back safe. They'll never forget." - -"Now you all just draw up chairs and take yourself some pancakes," Bex's -mother invited. - -"Sorgum!" Ballard whispered to Johnny. "Sorgum molasses on real buckwheat -pancakes. Yum! Yum! You can't beat 'em." - -Nor can you. Johnny Thompson and Donald Day found this out soon enough. -This mountain cabin was small. The kitchen was the smallest of its three -rooms, but shone upon by the good mountain woman's gleaming face, and -warmed by her glowing hospitality, it became for those four hungry boys -the largest, most gorgeous room in all the world. - -"Sorgum," Ballard murmured blissfully a half hour later. "Sorgum molasses -and buckwheat pancakes." - -"Take yourself another helping," said Bex's mother. - -"I couldn't," Ballard's eyes rolled as he patted his stomach. "And I got -to be going. I came away from the mill just to bring Bex home. Now I must -go back." - -The mill, Johnny thought with a start. Oh yes, that mysterious mill. -Perhaps Donald Day will show me its secrets. - - -A glorious golden moon hung like a Japanese lantern over the jagged ridge -that is Stone Mountain when Johnny on the evening of that same day wended -his way toward Cousin Bill's home. - -Although Johnny travelled over a trail that, winding along the -mountainside, went up and down like a roller coaster, he did not look -down upon rocks and ridges but upon a broad and fertile field, level as a -floor. There are many such farms to be found in the narrow valleys of the -Cumberland. This particular farm belonged to Colonel Crider. The Colonel, -Johnny had been told, was rich. Smart racing horses, sometimes taken to -the Kentucky Derby, contentedly grazed in his rich pastures. He had a -daughter. Just about sixteen years old, Johnny guessed she was. Johnny -had seen her only once and that at a distance, yet even at that distance, -there was something about the dancing rhythm of her movement, the tilt of -her head that had suggested a spirit of light gayety no one could -despise. - -Johnny was not at this moment thinking of Jensie Crider. His thoughts -were gloomy ones. Truth was, he was engaged in one of those mental -battles that come to every boy, a fight between his own desires and what -he believes to be duty. - -"I promised the coach I'd find him a real half-back and I haven't done -it," he groaned. "But up there on Pounding Mill Creek there's a pool -where the biggest old black bass is lurking. I've seen him twice. I -almost had him once. Now I've got just the right bait--" - -At that moment his eye was caught and held by something moving down there -in the Colonel's back pasture. - -"It's Nicodemus," he thought. "But what's got into him? He's scooting -across his pen like mad. Just as if he was after something. And--and he -is! Or--or something's after him!" - -He came to this decision with a sudden mental jolt. Nicodemus was the -Colonel's favorite ram. Very highly pedigreed and quite old. Nicodemus, -until a short time before when a stout pen with a high board fence had -been built for him, was the terror of the community. Three times he had -broken loose. Each time he had left fear and destruction behind him. - -The first time old Deacon Gibson, a local preacher, had been hiving a -swarm of bees when Nicodemus arrived on the scene. Nicodemus had failed -to assist in hiving that swarm. Worse than that, he had butted the -unfortunate parson into three beehives and released three other swarms -upon him. - -On his second escape, Nicodemus had boldly entered the log school house -while school was in session. The teacher had climbed on top of the table. -Since there were only holes where windows should have been, the children -swarmed through the window holes leaving Nicodemus with the situation -well in hand. Since it was a warm day and Nicodemus was tired, he had -fallen asleep beneath the table. Needless to say there had been no more -school that day. - -Johnny laughed aloud as he recalled these stories of the Colonel's prize -ram. But now his eyes were glued upon the high walled pen in which -Nicodemus was confined. Some living creature beside Nicodemus had entered -that pen. He and Nicodemus were having it out. Was Nicodemus chasing the -intruder about or was the wary old ram at last on the run? - -"Might be that bear we saw yesterday," Johnny told himself. "I--I've just -got to see." - -Johnny knew the Colonel and liked him. A big, bluff, red-cheeked, jovial -southern gentleman, he was the idol of every boy who came to know him. -Nicodemus, despite all his reputation for breaking up beehives and -dismissing schools, was a valuable ram. If anything seriously threatened -his safety, the Colonel should know of it. Besides, there was a chance, a -bare chance, that Johnny, through this little adventure, might become -better acquainted with the Colonel's daughter, Jensie. - -Soon enough Johnny discovered that Nicodemus was not in the slightest bit -of danger, unless, like many an aged and crusty human being, he was in -danger of bursting a blood vessel because of unsatisfied rage. - -As Johnny climbed the high board fence, to peer with some misgiving into -Nicodemus' pen, he barely held back a gasp. - -"Of all things!" he muttered. Then, having lifted himself to a secure -position atop a post, he sat there, mouth open, eyes staring, witnessing -a strange performance. - -There were indeed two living creatures in that pen. One was the -invincible Nicodemus. The other, instead of being a bear, was a boy, the -fleetest footed boy Johnny had ever seen. - -Johnny wanted to laugh. He longed to shout. He did neither, for this -would have broken up the show. "And that," he told himself, "would be a -burning shame." - -And so it would. The boy and the ram were playing a game of artful -dodging. And the boy, apparently, was a match for the ram. Hugging some -roundish, brown object under one arm, he dashed squarely at the ram. -Leaning always toward the ram, he came within three paces of him when, -like a flash, he bent to the right and, with the speed of a snapping -jack-knife, swerved slightly to one side and passed the charging beast -like a breath of air. - -Voicing his disappointment in a low "Ma--maa," Nicodemus shook his head -until it seemed his massive horns would drop off, then prepared to charge -once again. - -This time, as the ram came bursting down the field, the boy stood stock -still. With arms outstretched, he appeared to offer his brown, oblong -burden to the ram. - -"Now! Now he'll get him!" Johnny breathed. - -But no. As the ram appeared about to strike the boy amidship, with -lightning-like speed, he withdrew his offering, pivoted sharply to the -right to go dashing away, just in time to avoid the terrific impact. - -"That," Johnny mumbled, "that sure is something!" - -Then, like the whizbang of a fire cracker, a thought struck him. Yes, -this WAS something! Something real indeed. Like a flash it had come to -him that the thing this strange boy carried was a football, that this boy -was a marvel, that here was the answer to his prayer, the fulfillment of -his promises and his dreams. Here was the much needed half-back. He -wanted to climb on top of the board fence and let out one wild shout of -joy. - -But wait. Who was this boy? A mountain boy to be sure. Was he through -high school? Probably not. Few mountain boys are. His hopes dropped. - -"But who is he?" he asked himself. "Who can he be?" - -To this question, for the time, he found no answer. The boy wore a long -vizored cap, pulled low. The shadows hid his face. Yet there was, Johnny -assured himself, something familiar about that slender form, those -drooping shoulders. - -For a full quarter of an hour, awed, inspired, entranced, Johnny -witnessed this moonlight duel between a boy and the champion of all -butting rams. Then, with a suddenness that was startling, the affair came -to an end. The boy tried a new feature of the game. A dozen swift steps -backward spelled disaster. He tripped over something behind him, -recovered, then straightened up just in time to receive the full impact -of the irate ram's headlong plunge. - -The boy shot backward like an empty sack. At the same time there was an -explosion like the bang of a shotgun. - -"Good grief!" Johnny exclaimed, starting to the rescue. - -But there was no need. The boy, still able to travel under his own steam, -made his way across the field, to climb atop the fence and to cling there -panting. - -He was now not twenty feet from Johnny. But as yet he appeared -unconscious of Johnny's presence. In the final scrimmage, his cap had -been knocked from his head. Johnny recognized him on the instant. It was -Ballard Ball, the boy from the mystery mill. - -"Well," Johnny spoke before he thought, "he got you. But--" - -He broke off as he caught the gleam of the other boy's deep-set, dark -eyes. - -"I--I'm sorry," Johnny apologized instantly. "I didn't mean to spy on -you. I saw you and Nicodemus, thought you might be that bear." - -"That bear," Ballard laughed--his good humor having suddenly returned. -"No bear'd ever have a chance with old Nicodemus. He'd be knocked out -cold in the first round." - -"I believe it," Johnny began sliding along the fence. "But say!" he -exclaimed. "Where did you play football?" - -"I never did, not very much, you see," Ballard laughed. "We tried it over -at the Gap. It went fine until Squirrel-Head Blevins called Blackie -Madden a name he didn't like. Blackie went home and got a gun. If the -teacher hadn't caught Blackie with it, Squirrel-Head wouldn't be living -now. So that's all the football there was." - -"At the Gap?" Johnny breathed a prayer. "Did you go to high school -there?" - -"Yes, I--I sort of graduated there last June," Ballard admitted modestly. - -"Thank God," Johnny breathed. Then-- - -"Ballard, you're going to college. You're going to play real, big-time -football." - -"Oh no! I--I can't," Ballard was all but speechless. "I--I've got less -than fifty dollars. You--you can't go to college on that." - -"Sure you can!" Johnny's tone was one of finality. "My granddad's one of -the trustees of Hillcrest College. He endowed a scholarship. It's open. -That will pay your tuition. You can work for your room and board. More -than half the boys do that. Yes, you're going to college. And will the -coach be pleased! Ballard, old boy, you're the answer to my prayer." - -"But Johnny," the mountain boy's voice hit a flat note, "I read somewhere -that college freshmen are not eligible to play football." - -"That's only in the big colleges and universities," Johnny explained. -"You'll be eligible in Hillcrest all right." - -"And now," Johnny said more quietly after a moment. "Now I can go fishing -with a good conscience." - -"What's college got to do with fishing?" Ballard asked in surprise. - -Johnny told him. - -"I must go to college so you can go fishing," Ballard laughed. "Well, one -excuse is better than none. Wait till I get my ball and I'll go up the -creek with you. He busted my ball, the old rascal! But then maybe that -sort of saved my ribs. I'll not try the back-step after this. Wait!" He -sprang into the pen, and before Nicodemus could arrive, was back on the -fence with the deflated ball. And that was how Johnny made his first move -toward fulfilling his promise to Coach Dizney of old Hillcrest. He had -done it with the aid of Nicodemus. There was more to come, very much -more. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - THE HAUNTED POOL - - -Next day Johnny disappeared among the rhododendrons and mountain ivy that -grow along the right bank of Pounding Mill Creek. His step was light, his -heart was gay. And why not? Had he not fulfilled his mission? Had he not -discovered the much needed half-back for the Hillcrest coach? And did he -not carry in his hands, beside a short split bamboo rod, a can of "soft -craws"? And were not soft craws the bait of baits for this season of the -year? He looked with pride and joy upon the half dozen crawfish, that, -having recently shed their shells, held up soft and harmless claws for -his inspection. - -"I'll get that old sport, the king of all black bass, today," he assured -himself. "I'll have him in less than an hour." - -He might have fulfilled this promise had it not been for a lurking shadow -that, passing silently on before him, came to rest at last on a rocky -ledge, above the second deep pool in Pounding Mill Creek. - -Johnny had little interest in that second pool for the present. In fact -that particular pool had a peculiar sort of horror for Johnny. A man had -been drowned in that pool. He recalled the story with a chill. A group of -foreign laborers, so the story went, had driven up the creek from the -Gap. They had meant to dynamite this pool and get a mess of fish. Since -this was against the law and since they found Zeb Page, a deputy sheriff, -sitting on a near-by boulder, they had decided to take a swim. The pool -was deep, all of twenty feet. Four of the foreigners could swim. The -water was fine. They enjoyed it immensely. - -They had all crawled out on the bank to sun themselves when one of their -number, who had never known the delights of swimming, said, "That's -nothing. I can do that." He dove in, clothes and all. He disappeared -beneath the placid surface of the pool. Ten seconds elapsed, twenty, -forty, a full moment, and he did not reappear. - -Alarmed, his comrades dove for him. Ten minutes later they brought him to -the top, dead. In each of his two coat pockets, they found a heavy -revolver. - -"I always said," old Uncle Joe Creech always exclaimed after telling this -story, "that totin' pistol guns would keep a good man down. And that to -my notion mighty nigh proves hit plumb fer sarton." - -"And folks do say," he would add with a lowered voice and shifting eyes, -"that this here foreigner can be heard on a still night in the dark of -the moon, a shootin' off of them there pistol guns. But then shucks!" he -would squirt tobacco juice at a crack in the floor. "Shucks! How could he -an' him drowned and dead?" - -Sure enough, how could he? All the same, Johnny never dropped his bait in -that deep pool. He always had a shivery feeling that it might catch on -something soft and that if he hauled in hard enough, he'd bring a dead -body to the top. Pure fancy, he knew this to be, but anyway there were -enough other pools to be fished in. Why not pass this one up? He meant to -pass it up on this day, as on all others, but fate had decreed otherwise. - -Quite forgetting the deep pool that lay just beyond the last clump of -mountain laurel, Johnny happily dropped his first wriggling soft craw -into the shadowy waters of the pool next to that one where, more than -once, a grand and glorious old black bass had eluded him. - -"I'll get him," he whispered. "Get him for sure." - -But would he? He waited. Lurking in the shadows, he watched the dry line -sink down, inch by inch. Then, with a soundless parting of the lips, he -saw the line begin shooting away. - -"Bass," he whispered. "Big old black bass." - -The bass he knew, would run a yard, two, three yards, then pause. Should -he give the line a quick jerk then, setting the hook? Or, as many wise -anglers advised, should he wait for the second run? - -The line ceased playing out. Old bass had paused. "Now," Johnny -whispered. "Now? Or--" He gave a quick jerk. He had him. His heart -leaped. He began reeling in. - -Then his hopes fell, only a little fellow. It must be. No real pull at -all. Nor was he mistaken. Close to the surface there appeared a beautiful -young bass, perhaps nine inches long, the kind those mountain natives -call "green pearch." With a deft snap of his line, Johnny switched him -off, then watched him as, for a moment, stunned by the suddenness of it -all, he stood quite still in the water. Johnny's thoughts were all -admiration. How beautiful he was, like the things a Chinaman does in -green lacquer. - -But the big old black fellow, still lurking down there somewhere in the -shadows? What of him? At once Johnny was alert. Drawing in his line, he -offered up one more precious soft craw on the altar of a fisherman's -hope. - -Down, down went the craw-dad. Down, down sunk the line. But what was -this? Of a sudden the line shot away. Startled, eyes bulging, Johnny -watched his line play out, a yard, two, three, four, five, all but the -length of the pool. - -Then, "Now!" he breathed once again. And--what? Was he snagged on a rock? -It seemed so. But who could be sure? He strained at his line cautiously. -It did not budge. - -"Fellow'd think it was an alligator," he whispered. He put a little more -strain upon his line. It gave to his touch. Then, of a sudden it went -slack. - -"Dumb! Got off! He--" - -At that instant the pole was all but jerked from his hand and at -precisely the same instant, the most magnificent fish he had ever seen -leaped clear of the water. He leaped again and yet again. Johnny's heart -stood still. Then as he saw the fish vanish, felt the tug and knew he -still had him, his heart went racing. - -It was at this precise second in the long history of the world that -Johnny's ears were smitten by an unearthly scream. It came from the -direction of that other pool, the foreigner's death pool, the haunted -pool. The scream was repeated not once but twice. It was followed by a -loud splash. - -There could be but one conclusion. Someone had been about to fall into -the pool. That someone could not swim. Someone HAD fallen into the deep -pool. - -Johnny dropped his pole, heaved a sudden sigh of regret and at the same -time dashed through the bushes. Arriving breathless at the edge of that -other pool, he saw a head rise partially above the water. A mass of -crinkly brown hair floated on the surface. Without further thought, -Johnny plunged, clothes and all, into the pool, to begin an Australian -crawl toward the spot where the head had been. But where was it? For a -space of ten seconds, he could not locate it. When at last his racing -gaze came to rest, it was upon a spot close to the opposite bank. The -head was there, also a pair of fair, round shoulders. - -Johnny paused in his swimming to see a girl, of some sixteen summers, -emerge, fully clothed and dripping, from the pool. - -Just then she turned about to look at him and say, as a rare smile played -about her lips, "Oh! You in swimming too?" - -To measure Johnny's emotions at that moment would be impossible. The girl -was beautiful. But the witch? Why had she screamed? Had she meant to -deceive him? And his fish? Gone of course. Even a Tennessee shad could -loose himself from a drifting pole like that. - -"No," he said, speaking slowly. "I'm not in swimming. I fell in, same as -you did." - -"But I didn't fall in," the girl shook the water from her hair. "I jumped -in." - -"And do you always scream like that when you dive?" Johnny was puzzled -and angry. - -"Nearly always." The girl sat down upon a rock in the bright sunshine. -"There's some sort of bird that screams before he dives. I like it." - -"And I suppose," Johnny said mockingly, "that you always go in clothes -and all?" - -"Always," she said soberly. "It wouldn't be quite decent not to unless -you have a bathing suit. And I haven't one. I've asked Dad to buy me one -many times but he always forgets." - -"Who's Dad?" Johnny asked quickly. - -"Dad is Colonel Crider. I'm Jensie Crider. Now please," there was a -friendly note in her voice, "stop being ugly. Come on out in the sun. -We'll be all dry in a half hour. I want you to tell me about a lot of -things." - -Jensie Crider, Johnny was thinking to himself. The very girl I've wanted -to know. And such a meeting as this! - -"You made me lose a black bass, a--a whopper," he grinned in spite of -himself. - -"Oh! I'm sorry!" she was all sympathy. "But I'll find you another, a -bigger one. You wait and see!" She stood up to shake herself until her -damp garments spun about her. "Now please do come up and get all dried -out." - -Who could but obey this order from so beautiful a siren? - -"Now tell me," she said when Johnny had settled himself upon the rock, -"what do you do besides catch fish?" - -"Sometimes I go scouting for football players." - -"Do you find them?" - -"Found one last night." - -"Down here in the mountains?" she voiced her surprise. - -"It's Ballard Ball. You'd be astonished. He's an artful dodger. I--" he -was about to tell her how he had found him but changed his mind. "I--I'm -going to take him with me to college." - -"Oh, college." The girl's voice dropped. "Father wants me to go to -college. I'm not going." - -"Why not?" - -"Why should I?" - -Johnny told her why. He spoke in such glowing terms of big football -games, wild rallies, of bonfires, and sings around great open fireplaces, -the joyous friendships of youth and the satisfaction to be had from -learning something new every day that at last quoting from last Sabbath's -Sunday School lesson, she murmured: - -"'Almost thou persuadest me.'" - -"But see!" she sprang to her feet. "Now we are all dry. And I shall keep -my promise. Now for that big, black bass!" - - - - - CHAPTER V - THE CRIMSON FLOOD - - -Several days later, Johnny Thompson found himself crouching on the -western sidelines of the football field at old Hillcrest. He had been -there a half hour. During that time a variety of interests had vied for -the attention of his active brain. - -For a time he had thought of the mill down there at the foot of Stone -Mountain in the Cumberlands. All that seemed quite far away now. Yet the -strangeness and mystery of it lingered. He had not forgotten his resolve -to solve that mystery. In his mind's vision now he saw it all. Now the -ancient mill, its secret trap door and the serious minded Donald Day -presiding over it all. Johnny had hoped that Donald would tell him the -secret of those strange recesses at the bottom of the old mill. He had -pictured himself saying, "Donald, old son, how can you take an empty, -double walled jug down there and bring it back full of something quite -valuable when there is nothing down there but air and water?" He had -never asked the question, had never quite dared. So the mystery of the -mill remained a mystery still. - -The old master of the mill, Malcomb MacQueen, was still in the hospital. -Apparently his fall, when the bridge came down, had resulted in very -serious injuries. No one seemed to know when he might be about again. One -thing was sure, everyone would be glad when that day came. "How those -mountain people do love him!" Johnny whispered as he crouched on the -sidelines waiting for action. - -And Ballard? Ah, that was the question uppermost in Johnny's mind at this -moment. As he crouched there waiting for the kick off of that first of -the season's games, he asked himself over and over, "What about Ballard?" - -When he told the coach that he had found a star half-back for him, a sure -winner who in all his life had played but three games of football and had -been given no opportunity to shine in these, the coach had indulged in -that quaint but classic expression: "Oh yeah?" - -But Johnny had remained undismayed. "You wait and see!" had been his only -reply. He had not told of the late night tryst with the champion butter -of all rams, old Nicodemus. It seemed a little strange to him as he -thought of it now. "Wait and see," he had repeated. That was all. Now -they were waiting. They were to see. The zero hour was approaching. -Cedarville, the visiting team, would kick off to Hillcrest. An important -game? All games of a series are important. Seven games were to be played -for the championship of the Little Seven League. - -No one wanted Hillcrest to win as Johnny did. He wanted his find, Ballard -Ball, to turn out to be a star of the first magnitude. He wanted the -Hillcrest boys to win because he knew and loved them. More than that, -Hillcrest had been his father's school. Johnny's father had died while he -was still young, not, however, until he had fired Johnny's boyish mind -with tales of football battles of good, old, half forgotten days. - -"They used to win," Johnny had said to Ballard that very morning. "Win -and win and win! Last year Hillcrest lost and lost and lost. Hillcrest -has not carried off the pennant for six years." - -To this Ballard had made no reply. Johnny thought he saw the lines -tighten about his thin, serious face. He was sure he caught a gleam from -those dark, deep-set eyes. That was all. It was enough. "He'll do," had -been his mental comment. Now the eternal question came back to him, "Will -he do?" - -"Here they come!" a high-pitched voice cried. The speaker was close -beside Johnny. "Here they come! The Crimson Tide!" - -It was Jensie Crider who, wakening Johnny from his reverie, brought him -to his feet with a snap. Yes, Jensie, the same Jensie, who had screamed -three times then leaped, full dressed, into that mountain pool was here. -And, miracle of miracles, wild and free as she had been down in the -hills, today she was garbed in a sober costume and going to college, -Johnny's college, old Hillcrest. Something to marvel at here. - -No time for that now though, for indeed, here they came, the Hillcrest -team, the Crimson Flood as Jensie had named them. - -The ball had been kicked off. A long, high, rocketing kick, it had been -gathered in by Punch Dickman, the Hillcrest full-back, and now here they -came. - -To Johnny at that moment, they seemed a crimson tide indeed. Their red -jersies flaming in the sun, they were like the onrush of a flaming -prairie fire. Johnny's own heart flamed at sight of them. - -Among them all, one figure stood out boldly. A large, heavy boned boy, he -moved with the determined gallop of a stubborn two year old colt. He ran -just ahead of the ball carrier. When a boy in orange and blue leaped -toward the carrier, he was met not by the big full-back but by this other -boy. Hillcrest's left end whose name was Dave Powers. Dave spilled him as -easily as he might have a tea-wagon laden with dishes. Two others of the -orange and blue went down before him. - -"Look at 'em!" Johnny thrilled to the core of his being. "Thirty yard -line, forty, forty-five, fifty. Over the center, forty-five! Forty! -There! There he's down on the Cedarville thirty-seven yard line. Yow-ee! -What a run-back. It's a good sign, Jensie! A very good sign!" He slapped -his companion on the back as if she were a boy. And she came back with a -feigned punch to the jaw. - -"But Ballard?" Johnny's thoughts sobered. Ballard, the slim dark-eyed -mountain boy was in there at right half. The coach was giving him his -chance. - -"Good old Dizney!" Johnny muttered. "Here's hoping!" - -"He'll make good," Jensie exclaimed. "Ballard will make good. I'm sure of -it." - -"That's a pal," Johnny's heart warmed toward the girl. Once down there in -the Cumberlands he had fairly hated her for making him lose a fine black -bass. He was all for her now. - -Hillcrest had the ball. The run-back had been wonderful, but, after that -for a time, things were not so good. Johnny saw at a glance that the -Hillcrest team was outweighed fifteen pounds to the man. And, in the -beginning games at least, weight does count. - -Hillcrest tried a smash through right tackle. No good. They attempted an -end run with Ballard carrying the ball. Johnny caught his breath as he -saw the mountain boy tuck the ball under his arm. "First blood," he -muttered. Two enemies broke through the line. Ballard dodged one, -appeared to offer the ball to the second, then pivoted and faded out to -the right. - -"Great stuff!" Johnny murmured. - -In the end, however, the mountain boy was thrown for a loss of two yards. -One more down, then came the punt. - -A Cedarville man carried the ball to his own forty yard line. Then -followed a terrific pounding of the Hillcrest line that resulted in four -first downs, a thirty yard run through the line and at last a touchdown -by the invaders. - -"Oh!" Jensie sighed, it was the first real game she had ever witnessed. -"How can we win when they ram the line like a flock of goats?" - -"Or rams?" Johnny chuckled in spite of himself. "But wait," he consoled -her, "our team will take to the air. Then you'll see." - -"Take to the air?" Jensie was puzzled. - -"We'll have to beat them with passes," Johnny explained. - -He looked at the girl beside him and marvelled. From his strange -introduction--or lack of introduction--back there in the mountain pool, -he had suspected her of being a trifle crude. To his vast surprise, he -had found her very much of a lady. - -As he thought of it now, while Cedarville took time out before a try at -the goal, as he recalled the few happy days spent with her there in the -mountains, he found himself thinking of her as he might have thought of -the fine type of English girl, who rides after the hounds, plays golf, -cricket, and tennis, and is a fine-spoken, properly dressed young person -for all that. - -Ride after the hounds? Well, they had not quite done that. They had -followed the Colonel's favorite hounds over the ridges, hunting -squirrels. They had risen two hours before dawn to walk through the dewy -moonlight to a cornfield. There they had treed two fat, marauding old -coons and had, as Jensie put it, "Shot them at sunrise." They had-- - -But there was the kick for the extra point. No good, off to the right. -Johnny cheered with the rest but his gaze was wandering from the coach to -Ballard, then from Ballard to the coach again. What was the coach -thinking of Ballard? Probably nothing. He hadn't been given a chance. -He-- - -"There! There they go!" Jensie cried. - -At once Johnny's eyes were on the ball. Cedarville had kicked off to -Hillcrest. By some strange chance, it was Ballard who caught the ball. It -was no mere chance that Dave Powers, the left end, was at Ballard's -side--he had a way of being near the runner. Together they sprinted down -the line, but not for long. Ballard's course was too much of a -snake-dance for Dave. He dodged there, pivoted here, leaped straight at a -would-be tackler, then shot to the right. Eluding all would-be tacklers, -leaving his team mates far behind, the slim Kentucky boy set the -bleachers howling with delight. Had it not been for the lone safety man -who rushed him and downed him at the fifteen yard line, it must surely -have been a touchdown from a run-back--a marvelous feat. As it was -Hillcrest went wild with the yell: - -"Yea Ballard! Yea Ballard! Ballard! Ballard! Touchdown! Touchdown!" - -A touchdown it was, and that on the very next play. Little Artie Stark, -Hillcrest's midget quarter-back, took the ball, lateralled a slow pass to -Dave Powers at end, and Dave, plunging like a bucking bronco, shot -through the line. - -"Yea! Yea! Yea!" even Jensie, who until now had watched the game in -passive silence, joined in the cheering. - -The kick was good. The score stood 7-6 in favor of Hillcrest. - -There followed moments of tense struggle. Hillcrest won the ball and lost -it. Cedarville battled their way to the ten yard line only to lose the -ball on a fumble. Hillcrest took to the air but with little success. Pass -after pass dropped to earth incomplete. - -At last there was but seven minutes left to play. The day was warm for -autumn. Both teams showed the strain. Hillcrest tried one more forward -pass only to meet with disaster. It was intercepted by the opponent's -right end. He went romping down the field for a second touchdown. The -kick was good. Score 13 to 7 against Hillcrest. - -"Cheer up, boys," Johnny shouted as, having taken time out, the Hillcrest -boys lay sprawled out before him. "You'll win. There's six minutes yet to -play." - -"Than-thanks Johnny. Thanks for them few kind words," came from a member -of the team. Ballard did not so much as look up. - -"He's dead on his feet," Johnny whispered to Jensie. "The coach should -take him out, but he's afraid he'll break him if he does." - -"Poor Ballard," Jensie whispered back. "I wish he'd have some luck." - -Jensie was deeply interested in Ballard. They had gone to school -together, she and Ballard, for years. It had mattered little that her -home was large, her father rich; his home small, his family poor. They -were friends. - -When grade school was over Jensie had been sent away to a high class -private boarding school for girls. This had lasted exactly three weeks. -Jensie had pined away for her beloved mountains, her childhood comrades, -and the glorious freedom of public schools. She ran away from Madame -Farar's select finishing school. She came home to the mountains. Her -father had chuckled over her rebellion and had sent her, with Ballard and -all her other childhood pals to the high school at the Gap. - -She had not wanted to go away to college. The appearance of Johnny -Thompson on the scene had changed all that. Johnny had painted glowing -pictures of college, of basket ball, football, pep-meetings, evenings -about the open fire in the big "dorm" and all else that goes to make -college glorious. Johnny himself was a rather glamorous figure. And -Ballard was going. That was enough. So, here she was. And here was -Ballard of her own Pounding Mill Creek, on a football team that -apparently could not win. - -"They MUST win!" She set her teeth hard. - -"They shall win!" Johnny exclaimed. - -Would they? It did not seem so, for once again, as play was resumed, the -opponents began battering their shattered line, marching down the field -toward one more touchdown. - -But not so fast! The Hillcrest line stiffened. Three downs and no gain. -Cedarville was forced to kick. The ball shot skyward like a rocket to -drop right into Artie Stark's waiting arms. Artie raced forward for a -gain of twenty yards. With a tackler at his heels he hurled a forward -pass to Dave Powers. Dave sprang into the Cedarville mob. He dodged here, -pivoted there, was about to be tackled, then lateralled back to Artie -Stark half way across the field and all alone. - -By this time the Hillcrest bleachers had gone mad. Even the Cedarville -rooters were screaming at the tops of their voices. - -"Touchdown! Touchdown!" yelled the excited mob. Johnny looked at his -watch. "One minute to play, one minute for a touchdown. Regular Jack -Armstrong football," he murmured. - -Almost, but not quite. Finding himself in the open and in full possession -of the treasured pigskin, Artie Stark once again shot forward toward the -goal line. An enemy appeared on the right. He dodged him. One on the -left, another on the right, a third directly before him. No chance. His -eyes roved the field. "Than--thanks, good fortune," he murmured as he -sent the ball on a long, looping curve toward Ballard Ball, the slim -Kentucky boy, who stood waiting all alone on the enemy's five yard line. -It was a perfect pass. Ballard was not obliged to move a foot. The ball -dropped squarely in his arms. Yet--Johnny could not believe his eyes--the -ball went bouncing in air to at last strike the earth and roll away. - -"Incomplete pass," Johnny groaned. "One, two, three passes, all -incomplete. The ball goes back miles and miles. And with only a half -minute left to play." He groaned again and all Hillcrest groaned with -him. And well they might for, scarcely had the teams lined up for play -when the whistle blew. The game was over. Hillcrest had lost 13 to 7. - -When Johnny and Jensie went in search of Ballard they did not find him on -the field. He had vanished. - -"Johnny, we must find him," Jensie exclaimed. "We really must! I know -Ballard. I've known him a long, long time. He's too good to be true. -He'll blame himself for the loss of that game. He--why he may start for -home tonight. You never can tell." - - - - - CHAPTER VI - OLD KENTUCKY - - -After a futile search for Ballard, Johnny wandered back to the Blue Moon. -The Blue Moon was Johnny's latest financial venture in a strange and -troubled world. It promised to be a grand flop and Johnny was duly -unhappy about it. - -The establishing of the Blue Moon had been a suggestion of Johnny's -grandfather. The old man was seldom wrong. This time, however, it did -seem that he had erred. - -It had started with Johnny's determination to find his young Kentucky -friend a job, anything at all that would enable him to earn money for -food and lodging. At first it had seemed simple enough. In the end it -proved impossible. Everything was taken. - -"Way to get a job these days," Johnny's grandfather had said, "is to make -one for yourself." - -"Sure," Johnny grinned, "but how?" - -"Not so hard as it might seem," the old man rumbled. "I've been thinking -about it for quite a spell. You know college boys like a place to gather -and talk things over, have a cup of coffee or hot malted, sort of a -gathering place of the clan." - -"I know," Johnny agreed. - -"I've been watching them. They wander down town, go in here, go in there, -gather in places, not so bad, not so good either, little gambling, slot -machines and all that, little bad language from rough town folks, all -that sort of thing. If I had a boy away from home, I'd like him in a -better place. So why not, Johnny?" The old man leaned forward eagerly. - -"Why not what?" Johnny asked. - -"Why not turn that abandoned bowling alley building just off the campus -into a sort of student's retreat, place where they can buy little things -they need, sit down for a hot drink, gather around for a bit of -conversation, all that. - -"I've got the fixtures for you, took them on a bad debt. They're in -storage. I'll finance it for you. Make a job for both you and Ballard. -What do you say?" - -"Grand!" Johnny had all but hugged the old man. - -They had worked hard to make the place attractive, Johnny and Ballard -had. Jensie had added a feminine touch, with a picture or two and colored -curtains. She had imported for them a southern negro cook who could make -famous little meat pies and apple turn overs, the sort that melt in your -mouth. - -The place was, Johnny decided, to have very few rules, one was that this -was a place for men only. Perhaps this rule was a mistake. One thing was -sure, the student body had not, as yet, found their way in any great -numbers to the Blue Moon, as Johnny and Jensie had named it. The place -gave promise of being a prodigious failure. - -"I suppose the boys like to wander down town and fill their eyes with the -bright light of neon signs," Johnny told himself gloomily, as having -entered the big, front room of the place, he prodded the fire, thrust in -three large logs, then seated himself for a short spell of gloomy -meditation. - -This meditation was broken in upon by Jensie who thrusting her head in at -the open door said, "Johnny, do you think Ballard could have lit out for -our native hills?" - -"Don't know," was Johnny's slow reply. "Guess not though. Probably just -went for a long walk to wear off his grief at dropping that ball. Come on -in and have a meat pie an' a cup of coffee. It's on the house." - -"Can't, Johnny." - -"Why not?" - -"Rules, Johnny." - -"Hang the rules!" Johnny exploded. "We made 'em. We can break 'em." - -"Besides," his voice dropped to a disconsolate note, "I think the place -is a flop." - -"No! It can't be. It mustn't be," Jensie exclaimed. - -"You can hang a hollow log up in a tree," was Johnny's strange reply, -"but you can't make a squirrel choose it for a nest. Anyway come on in. -I'm sure the coffee is still hot." - -It was. They drank three cups apiece and felt better, much better. Two -banjos lay on the shelf back of the counter. Taking up one of these -Jensie put a hand on the counter, gave a little spring, and there she -was, seated on the counter as she had been many a time in Cousin Bill's -store down in the Cumberland mountains. - -She touched the strings and at once, strange, quaint mountain melodies -began pouring forth on the still night air. They were alone, just Johnny -and the girl. But not for long. The door was open. The thrum-thrum-thrum -of the banjo carried far. Into the dim lit room, shadowy figures like -dark ghosts began to glide. One by one, each in his corner, they came to -rest. Johnny could not see their faces. He could guess who they were and -was glad. It promised well for the future of the Blue Moon. - -Then a tall, slim, slouching figure appeared. Both Johnny and Jensie -recognized him at a glance. Johnny felt a wave of warmth creep over him. -Jensie gulped, paused, then played on. - -"Here, gimme that thar banjo," drawled a low, melodious voice. "Blame me, -if you ain't the sorriest banjo picker I mighty nigh ever heard." It was -Ballard. - -Jensie did not give up the banjo. Instead, she reached over, took down -the second banjo, then slid over, making a place for Ballard beside her. - -"Come on, boy," she whispered, "let's give 'em a little touch of old -Kentucky." - -A moment more and two banjos were thrumming where one had been before, -and two melodious voices were drawling the words of "Kentucky Babe." - -The sound carried farther now. New recruits to the voluntary audience -were arriving. Some were boys and some girls. Two gray-haired professors -sidled into a corner. Rules? Tonight there were no rules. They had lost -the first big game of the season. One and all they were in need of -consolation. They were getting it from these mountain singers. - -From "Kentucky Babe" the melodious pair went to "Moonlight on the Wabash" -and "Springtime in the Rockies." Then, with a sudden low strumming of -strings, they drifted away into some sweet, haunting melody of the -mountains, a song without words, never written down but loved and -remembered by every new mountain generation. - -A hush fell over the audience as it ended. The hush deepened as the -strings took up an old, old refrain and the untrained melodious voices -began: "The sun shines bright on my old Kentucky home." - -The hush continued all through the song. Surely no audience had ever -accorded a more perfect reception. For a full moment there was silence. -Then a voice exclaimed: - -"Yea, Kentucky! Yea! Yea! Old Kentucky!" - -Instantly the throng was on its feet as the rafters rang with the shout: - -"Kentucky! Old Kentucky!" - -Johnny choked something down his throat. Perhaps it was his heart. By Old -Kentucky, he knew they meant Ballard. The name would stick. Ballard was -made for life. So too he hoped, was the Blue Moon. He touched a switch. -Instantly like a smile from Heaven the light at the center of the ceiling -beamed down upon them. Johnny found himself looking into a half hundred -smiling faces. The team was there, almost to a man. Some of the girls -were there. Those professors and six strangers completed the list. - -But here was Artie Stark. He was on his feet. He was speaking: "Folks, -this is to be a pep meeting, not a funeral!" Instant applause. "What we -need to do is find out what it takes to win next Saturday's game. I'll -tell you." Artie's round freckled and usually smiling face was serious. -"I'll tell you what we need. It's practice! How can we win? By getting -out on the air! Basketball! That's it. Basketball on the football field. -That takes practice, hours and hours of practice. I know what you're -going to say, 'Where's the time? All right for you,' you'll say, 'you -don't have to work, Artie.' Look!" Artie broke short off to allow his -eyes to circle the crowd. "Who's the best ball carrier we've got this -year? Who's the artful dodger? There he is!" He pointed straight at -Ballard. "Old Kentucky. That's who it is!" Once again the crowd cheered, -this time long and huskily. Ballard turned red, struggled with something -in his throat, made a few gurgling sounds, then sat there in silence. - -"What does he need?" Artie demanded. - -"He needs practice, to become air-minded. That's what it will take to -win! And practice, that's what he's going to get. I'm going to serve up -chocolate sodas, banana splits, and ham sandwiches in this old Blue Moon -of Johnny's. I don't have to work but I'm going to, for good old -Hillcrest and all she stands for." - -"No, I--" Ballard was on his feet. It matters little what he meant to -say. Wild cheers drowned all his efforts at speech. - -As for Johnny, his head was in a whirl. Artie Stark was to be his aid at -the Blue Moon! Artie, the most popular boy in the whole school! What a -boost the old Blue Moon was going to get! - -An hour later, when arrangements had all been made for the future and the -crowd had melted away, Johnny was preparing to throw the light switch, -lock the door and go home, when his attention was attracted by some -stranger who still lingered in the shadows. - -Wonder what he wants, Johnny thought. There was something familiar about -the stooping shoulders, the large, dark glasses of the stranger. -"Did--did you want something?" he asked hesitatingly. - -"Yes I--" the stranger came forward. "You may have forgotten. It's been -quite a while Johnny, but I--" - -"Good grief!" Johnny exclaimed. "It's Panther Eye! My old pal Panther -Eye!" Next instant he was gripping the other boy's hand until it hurt. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - PANTHER EYE'S RETURN - - -"Sit down, Pant," Johnny's mind spun like a top. "Pant! Good old Panther -Eye. Sit down here. I'll switch off that big light. There now! That's -more like it. What's the good of light for a fellow like you? See in the -dark well as the light. I--I'll be right back, Pant. Got coffee! Lot of -good hot coffee and hamburger, just right hamburger. Have a feast, Pant, -and talk just like we used to. Jungles, Pant, and the great, white -wilderness. Submarine in the Chicago river. Man! Oh, man!" - -At this, as if suddenly realizing he was talking like a madman, Johnny -ducked away toward the kitchen where, with shaky fingers, he laid crisp, -brown hamburgers between round sliced rolls and poured great, steaming -mugs of coffee. - -All the time he was thinking. Panther Eye of all people! Panther Eye, you -will know if you have been Johnny Thompson's friend for long, had for a -long time been Johnny's boon companion. Then, quite suddenly and -mysteriously, he had dropped out of his life. Nothing very strange about -this for, after all, Pant had always been a mysterious person. He could -see in the dark quite as well as in the light. This marvelous gift had -more than once gotten them out of a tight place. Rumor had it that Pant -and a great surgeon had been hunting panthers. A panther had torn out the -boy's eye. The surgeon had shot the panther, cut out its eye skillfully, -set it in the place of the one Pant had lost and now, like all cats, he -could see in the dark. A likely sort of story. But then, how could you -explain it? Pant had once told Johnny he did it with the aid of some -mechanical lighting device. Johnny had not quite believed that. What was -one to believe? At any rate, here was Pant back again. Where had he been? -Johnny wanted awfully to know. They'd have a grand talk about old times. -Pant would tell of some fresh adventures. And then? Johnny was actually -trembling with anticipation. Things would happen, they always did when -Pant was about, weird, mysterious things. Oh well, this made life seem -worth living. So let them come. - -"Remember the Dust Eater?" Pant was saying three minutes later. "Remember -the airship and all those little brown men way up there in the north?" -Pant's strange eyes shone. - -"And the Siberian tiger?" Johnny exclaimed. - -"Yes! Yes, Johnny! Them were the days!" - -"Every day is a good day," Johnny philosophized. "Every day's got to be -better than the one that went before. There's no turning back Pant, old -boy. We've got to go forward. But what have you been doing, Pant?" - -"What Satan always does," Pant smiled strangely. - -"What's that?" Johnny stared. - -"Don't you remember, Johnny? You should read old and treasured very old -books. They help a lot in understanding life. Satan when asked where he -had been is supposed to have said he had come 'From going to and fro in -the earth, and from walking up and down in it.'" - -"Well," Johnny grinned. "Who's got a better right to follow Satan's -example than you, Pant. But where did you walk?" - -"Africa, Ethiopia to be more explicit." - -"Oh!" Johnny's breath came quick with surprise. "The one place I'd most -like to have been! What were you doing? What happened? Plenty I'll bet! -Tell me about it." - -"Well you know," Pant slumped down comfortably in his chair, then, as -there came some slight noise outside, sprang half out of his seat. - -"You're nervous," Johnny looked at him in surprise. "Nervous as a cat." - -"You'd be too, Johnny, if--" Pant did not finish. - -"Well, Johnny," he began again a half minute later, "I've got a brother. -Didn't know it, did you?" - -"No I--" - -"I have, Johnny. And like myself, he's a bit queer, only in a different -way. He's a naturalist of a sort. He hunts up all kinds of queer animals. -And Ethiopia's the place to look for them. You'd hardly believe the -truth, Johnny, antelopes no taller than a good sized cat, crows with -great, thick bills, monkeys with capes growing on their backs to keep off -the rain, and baboons! All sorts of man-like creatures! That's Ethiopia. -My brother went down there to hunt out these creatures. He got himself -lost and I had to go find him. - -"It's a strange place, Johnny, awfully strange. Things happen that you -don't forget, you'll never forget." Pant's eyes sought the dark corners -of the room. His slim fingers toyed nervously with his coffee cup. - -"Did you find your brother?" Johnny asked. - -Pant did not appear to hear. Perhaps he did not. There are times in all -our lives when we are living so much in the past that nothing close to us -seems real. - -"There are spots in that strange land," Pant went on as if Johnny had not -spoken. "Spots so beautiful you fancy they may have been the Garden of -Eden. Beautiful? Yes, beautiful beyond compare--" Pant drew in a long, -deep breath. "Just imagine, Johnny, passing through a tropical jungle. -You can imagine, can't you? Remember--" - -"Yes," Johnny said quietly, "I remember Central America. The mahogany -forests, tangled bushes and vines. The hush of night at noonday in the -deep shade of the forests, the bright flash of birds, the damp, sweet -smell of a thousand flowers." - -"Yes, Johnny," Pant sighed, "you do remember. And, Johnny, African -jungles are wilder, ruggeder, grander, more lonely. Johnny," his voice -fell, "imagine all that, then try to think what it would be like to catch -a sound, a voice, singing beautifully. Not a bird's voice, Johnny, a -human voice, a girl's voice. - -"Not in the jungle either," again Pant paused, he seemed to be -experiencing it all again. "Think of walking a few steps forward then, -after parting the bushes, to find yourself looking down upon a--a sort of -paradise. - -"Try to picture it, Johnny." Pant leaned forward. "Try to see it as I saw -it then, a broad, green pasture, flat as a floor and green as no pasture -in America ever is. Back of that pasture a grove of date palms and among -these, set like a diamond in green jade, a jewel of a house. - -"Bananas hung on bunches at the edge of a garden near by," Pant breathed -deeply. "Oranges and grapefruit all green and gold, were there too. And, -Johnny," again his voice fell, "Johnny, right in the foreground of that -picture, as if she had been put there by an artist, and the whole thing -was not real, just painted, was a girl." - -"A white girl?" Johnny spoke at last. - -"She may have been all white," Pant spoke slowly. "I don't know about -that. Queer isn't it? I was with her for hours. I never asked myself the -question, not once until now. But then, when you're helping a pretty girl -who is in great peril you don't ask yourself, 'What race does she belong -to?' now do you?" - -"Helping a beautiful girl in great peril!" Johnny sat up. - -"Yes, that's what it came to in the end. That's what I was going to tell -you-- - -"But say!" Pant broke off suddenly. "Here it is eleven o'clock! I've got -just ten minutes to make it!" He grabbed for his hat. - -"Make what?" Johnny received no answer. Pant was gone. - -"Same old Pant," Johnny murmured after a moment's thought. - -Johnny sat there for a short time staring into his half drained coffee -cup. Life had, he thought, always been strange. Curious, mysterious -things were always bobbing up. Life was a joyous affair too. It sure was -good to live. The coming weeks promised to be full of interest. There was -that queer old man and his nephew, Donald Day, down there in the -mountains. They took jug-like affairs into a dark, cavern-like place -beneath a mill, carried them down empty and brought them up filled with -some precious fluid. How could they? What magic was this? He was going to -know. His grandfather had given him a small car, a long, low one with a -nose like a chisel. Cut the air like a knife, this car. He'd go spinning -down to the mountains in it. Take Jensie or Ballard with him. - -"Old Kentucky. That's what they all called Ballard tonight," he -whispered. He was thinking of Ballard. Yes, surely life was joyous, grand -and joyous. Things had a way of coming out right if you got a proper -start and kept plugging. There was the Blue Moon now. It was going to be -a success. Students needed such a meeting place, good, clean atmosphere, -and all that. - -"Just takes one good push," he murmured. "Tonight it got that push. -Ballard got his push too. He'll make a great football star. I'm sure of -it. I--" he broke off. - -Then, like a ghost, a mental picture of Panther Eye came floating into -his consciousness. "He's been into something I'll be bound," he said this -aloud to the empty room. "Nothing bad, but something that's likely to get -some people into a lot of trouble of one sort or another. Pant's just -naturally that way. - -"Trouble for some people," he repeated musingly. "But I won't be one of -those people." - -"Oh won't you though!" He would have sworn that a voice whispered this in -his ear. Springing to his feet, he flashed a look here, there, -everywhere. - -"No one!" he exclaimed. "Of course not. Time I was going home. Been a -wild day. I'm beginning to hear things. Be seeing them pretty soon." - -At that he switched off the light, opened the door, then stood on the -threshold listening, peering into the dark. Strangely enough, at that -moment a curious notion took possession of his mind, it was that the -mysterious Panther Eye had not been there at all, that Pant was dead, -that only Pant's ghost had been to visit him here in the big room of the -Blue Moon. - -"Boo!" he shivered. - -He was sure he caught an answering "Boo!" But after all it might have -been some lonesome old owl talking to himself. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - HA! HA! BIG JOKE! - - -The game on the following Saturday was strange. Johnny, who journeyed -with the team to Chehalis, where the game was to be played, had never -seen anything like it. Something quite mysterious and startling happened -at the beginning of the second quarter. The score stood at 7-7. It was -Hillcrest's ball on their opponent's twenty yard line, second down, and -ten yards to go. - -At that moment, while it was being returned from an unsuccessful attempt -at a forward pass, in some strange manner, the ball came into contact -with a Chehalis player's toe and went bouncing into the bleachers. Johnny -saw this but thought little of it. He was to think a great deal more of -it later. - -The ball was slow in getting back onto the field. This was not strange -however, it was a cold day. Many blankets tended to hamper the -spectator's movements. - -When the ball came back it was Rabbit Jones, Hillcrest right half, who -received it. The ball, he thought, seemed queer, yet he said nothing. -Twenty seconds later the ball was in play. Rabbit had it and was -preparing to throw a forward pass to Dave Powers, who had run around left -end to receive it. - -Then Rabbit did a strange thing. To the vast surprise of all his team -mates, instead of carrying out the play, he allowed his arm to drop to -shoot the ball at last far and high, curving away toward a spot where no -one was. - -"Don't touch that ball!" These words were on Rabbit's lips. He did not -say them. Nor was there any need, for as it reached the highest spot in -its long, broad curve, with a boom like a cannon shot, the ball burst. - -A sudden cry of surprise rose from the bleachers. But from one pair of -lips--Rabbit heard it distinctly--there came, "Ha! Ha! Big joke!" - -Who had said it? Rabbit's gaze from face to face of the opposing team -came to rest upon the big right tackle. "Yes," he assured himself, "he -said that. And it was his toe that pushed the ball into the crowd a -moment ago. Something queer there." - -Though the boy thought all this, not one word, for the moment, did he say -to his team mates. The whole affair puzzled him greatly. Why had he -changed his mind so quickly? Why had he thrown the ball for that long -forward pass into the great nowhere? Had he known the ball would burst? -Well, scarcely that. It had all been very strange. The ball had been cold -like ice. He had imagined that he felt it swelling. He had acted, -perhaps, on instinct. Who knows? - -But no more of that. Here was a new ball. The whistle was blowing. No -time, this, for dreaming. Hillcrest must win. Just must! They had lost -the week before. The score now stood at a tie. Twenty yards from a -touchdown. - -"Come on now boys!" Dave Powers urged. "Let's get in there and win!" - -"Dave," Rabbit whispered, "Dave, send me through their right tackle." - -"That fellow!" Dave stared. "He'll smear you. He's twice your size." - -"Try it!" Rabbit was pleading now. "Third down! Please, Dave--try it." - -In the huddle Dave gave his orders quickly. Rabbit was to take the ball -through right tackle. His team mates gasped but said never a word. - -Rabbit's fingers trembled as they touched the ground, prepared for the -play, but in his eye was a strange gleam. - -Snap! The ball hit his hands. He was away. Guard and tackle on his team -did their bit. It was not enough. As he leaped at the opposing line, the -big tackle blocked his path. Then Rabbit did a strange thing. Coming to a -dead halt he said in a low, tense tone: - -"Ha! Ha! Big joke!" - -Next instant he plunged head on. He struck that big tackle. He brushed -him aside like a bag of straw, then plunged forward for a clean gain of -nine yards. - -"Made it! Made it! Made it!" chanted the Hillcrest rooters. "First down. -Ten to go! We want a touchdown! We want a touchdown!" - -"Again!" Rabbit panted, as he came up to Dave. "Just one more time." - -"One more time it is," Dave grinned. "Don't see how you did it, but it's -worth one more try." - -Again it was. Same play, same old forward plunge, same results. This time -Rabbit did not say it all, only "Ha! Ha!" then he plunged. Again the jinx -worked. This time he went all the way for a touchdown. - -Amid the deafening din made by rooters, Punch Dickman kicked the goal and -the score stood 14-7 in Hillcrest's favor. - -"Game's not over," Dave warned his team mates. "Not by a long mile. And -we've got to win." - -"Yes," Johnny whispered to himself as he heard the words, "They must -win." - -He was thinking at that moment, however, more of Ballard than of all the -rest of the team. Ballard, he knew, had been practicing entirely too -hard. He was nervous and jumpy. If too much of the game depended upon -him, he might do something rather terrible. He knew little about the -strange events that were throwing the game, almost entirely, to Rabbit's -side of the team. He was thankful it was so. - -"If only Ballard can get through a game without any mishaps," he said to -Jensie. "And if he can see his own team win, it will help a lot." - -"Yes," Jensie agreed soberly, "it will." - - * * * * * * * * - -"Dave," Rabbit whispered, as they marched down the field for the -kick-off. "That football did not just burst. It was blown up." - -"Blown up!" Dave stared. "How could it be? How could you blow up a -football that's been constantly in play for a half hour?" - -"It went into the bleachers." - -"And came right out again. Rabbit, you're crazy!" - -"No," said Rabbit, "I'm not. That big tackle knew all about it. That -secret knowledge made him soft. I went right through him twice." - -"Twice. That's right," Dave whistled low. "It's the queerest thing I ever -heard. How could they? And why?" - -"Wanted to get our goat maybe. Perhaps it's what they'd call a practical -joke. - -"And look!" Rabbit pulled at Dave's arm. "They're taking that big tackle -out, putting in another man." - -"Well," Dave grinned, "you can't go through him if he's out of the game." - -This was true. The full force of its truth came over the Hillcrest team -as during the moments that followed, they battled to hold their lead. - -Through a series of line plunges and end runs, Chehalis pushed them back, -back, back to their own three yard line. Then the Chehalis quarter-back -fumbled and Dave retrieved the ball. - -This gave Hillcrest a short breathing spell. Then again disaster -descended upon them. Rabbit fumbled the ball. It shot high in air. A -Chehalis man caught it and carried it across for a touchdown. The goal -was kicked. The score was tied. The grandstands became places of wild -pandemonium. Then the whistle blew for the end of the third quarter. - -"Rabbit," Dave whispered as they dropped down upon the grass for a -moment's rest, "we're thinking too much about that busted football. -Perhaps that's what they wanted. Anyway we must not. We've got to get in -and win! Win! That's what!" - -"We--we will," Rabbit exclaimed beneath his breath. "All the same," he -added, "I'd like to know how--" - -"There you go!" Dave laughed. "Forget it!" - -Yet Rabbit could not quite forget it. - -With the score standing at a tie the teams settled down to a grimly -fought fourth quarter. Chehalis attempted two line plunges, and one end -run. Failing to make their downs, they kicked. - -Hillcrest caught the kick, carried the ball to their own forty yard line, -tried a line plunge, a forward pass and an end run, then kicked. So for -ten minutes struggling, sweating, racing, plunging, all to no purpose, -they beat their way back and forth across the field. - -With five minutes left to play, Chehalis fought their way to Hillcrest's -twenty yard line. There for three downs they stuck. Then, like a flash -out of the blue, from his position behind the line of scrimmage, the -Chehalis full-back booted the ball straight over the bar for a field -goal. - -"Three ahead," someone groaned as play was resumed. "They've got us." - -"Nothing like that," Rabbit retorted. "Four minutes left to play. -Touchdown! Touchdown!" - -And the bleachers were chanting: "Touchdown! Touchdown!" - -The struggle was resumed. - -Time out for Chehalis. A player limped off the field. By this time Rabbit -was too weary to see who replaced him. Soon he was to know and smile. - -Once again play was resumed; Hillcrest's ball on the opponent's forty -yard line. - -They went into a huddle! Came out. The play called for two short lateral -passes behind the line. While this was going on Rabbit was to break -through the opponent's scattered defense and prepare to receive a long -pass. - -Could he make it? He breathed hard. Snap! They were away. So was Rabbit. -To reach his required position was easy. Where was the ball? Had the two -laterals served their purpose? Yes! Yes! Here came the ball, straight for -his outstretched hands and not an opponent near. What luck! - -But wait! As he caught the ball and turned to run, he saw before him, not -ten yards away, a huge player, in fact, none other than that right -tackle, the one he suspected of some unfair trick. He had been returned -to the game. - -There are times when Rabbit's mind works with the speed of a steel trap. -This was one of those times. - -Speeding straight at his opponent, he held the ball straight out before -him, at the same time hissing: - -"Here! Take it! It might blow up!" - -For a space of seconds the big would-be tackler halted in his tracks. The -expression on his face was a study. - -As for Rabbit, he stopped short, pivoted to the right, flashed by his -opponent to speed away and across the line for a touchdown. Hillcrest -went into the lead. - -In the last two minutes of play, Chehalis made a desperate attempt to -score. Two forward passes were knocked down. An end run was blocked, a -third forward pass was intercepted. Hillcrest marched down the field for -a gain of twenty yards. Then the whistle blew. Hillcrest had won! - -There followed the usual wild applause and the hearty congratulations, -then Dave and Rabbit sauntered toward the exit. - -"I tell you it's nonsense!" Dave burst out. "Under such circumstances you -just couldn't blow up that football. Suppose it was full of gasoline or -gun powder, how would you light it? I tell you it's impossible!" - -"I suppose it is," Rabbit laughed. "It happened all the same. And I -haven't got a single theory about how they did it. One thing is sure, -Dave, the ball was cold, cold as ice. I-- - -"Look! There's something under the bleachers, something shiny--dollar -maybe. - -"Nope," he said a moment later, "it's a football pump. And look! What a -fat one it is! - -"Sayee!" he stopped and stared. "This is the very spot! The ball went -into the bleachers right here." - -At that moment Johnny Thompson came up to them. Jensie and Ballard had -gone off the field. Ballard was happy, he had played in a successful -football game. True, he had been given no very important part in it, this -he knew, was more or less a matter of chance. Next time,--well, anyway, -he had on this day made no serious breaks. The future might take care of -itself. - -Johnny, however, was not thinking of Ballard at that moment. He was -turning that strange air pump over and over in his hands. It was, he saw, -a very ordinary pump, over which had been soldered an outer casing. The -space between the pump and the casing was padded with asbestos. "As if -the pump might get too hot," he said to Dave as, assisted by Rabbit, Dave -told what they knew of the strange occurrence. - -"Keep still about this," Johnny counseled at last. "The crowd thought the -ball just naturally blew up; that happens, you know. Let them think it. -We'll get at the bottom of this mystery yet." - -Strangely enough, as often happens, this mystery was closely related to -another and, had Johnny but known it, the solution of one would go far -toward untangling the other. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - THE "GHOST" WALKS AGAIN - - -That night the "ghost" walked again--that is, Panther Eye returned. It -was late, how late Johnny did not quite know. He was seated beside the -great, wood-burning stove in the great front room of the Blue Moon. - -The crowd was gone. And what a crowd it had been, a merry mob of college -folks celebrating a football game. Yells, songs, wild, fantastic dances -and eats, lots of eats, and good, hot drinks, that was what the long -evening had been. The Blue Moon was a success, a howling success. As he -sat there in the half-darkness--one dim light shone in a far -corner--Johnny was in a mellow mood. - -And then, without a sound, the door opened. There came the shuffling of -feet. Johnny caught the pale gleam of two balls of fire. "Pant's eyes," -he whispered with an involuntary shudder. - -"Hello, Johnny, I'm back," came in a hoarse whisper. - -"Hello, yourself," Johnny was on his feet. "Wait. The coffee's still hot. -There are mince pies, the turnover sort you can hold in your hands. I'll -be back in a flash." He was. - -"Pant," Johnny leaned forward eagerly as his strange visitor finished his -last bite of pie. "Last time I saw you, you were telling me of a -beautiful valley in Ethiopia and something about a girl, perhaps a white -girl, you didn't seem to know. You said--" - -"Yes," Pant gave forth a low, hollow chuckle. "Yes, Johnny, that was -strange and--and exciting too. - -"You see," he settled back in his chair, his unusual eyes half closed. -"That girl was watching a small herd of cattle. They don't have fences in -Ethiopia, at least, not in most places. So there was the girl and her -cattle, the green pasture like a magnificent oriental carpet, and the -small house set among the palms. - -"It was warm, midafternoon. I sat down on a fallen tree to rest myself -and to just--well sort of enjoy that beautiful picture. - -"I must have fallen asleep--" suddenly Pant's eyes opened very wide. He -went through the preliminary motions of springing to his feet. "Yes, I -MUST have fallen asleep for, of a sudden, I heard a most unearthly -scream. - -"I sprang to my feet just in time to see a huge, dark-faced man leap into -the brush. And, Johnny," Pant drew in a long breath, "he was carrying -something on his back, carrying it like a sack of oats. He was carrying -that girl." - -"Oh-oo," Johnny exclaimed. - -"It's quite common, that sort of thing there in Ethiopia," Pant went on -more quietly. "You see, Johnny, they still have slaves in Ethiopia, -perhaps a million or two, no one seems to know exactly. And if you're to -sell slaves, you must steal them. That's what this fellow was doing. -Probably he was a Mohammedan, most of them are, a pretty low-lived lot." - -"And you--" Johnny began eagerly. - -"Well, Johnny--" again the low, hollow chuckle, "it wasn't any of my -business, not really. I hadn't come there to reform the country. I just -wanted to see what it was like and to hunt up my brother. But this -fellow, that big, dark-faced man with a hooked nose, I learned about the -nose later, that fellow had spoiled my picture--you know, the girl, the -cattle, the carpet of green, the jewel of a house. It was all spoiled -after he had taken the girl. I wanted that girl back in the picture. -So--natur--ally--" Pant's voice dropped to a drawl, "I went after him." - -"Pant," exclaimed Johnny, "you are queer!" - -"That's what I've been told," Pant grinned broadly. - -"So you went after him," Johnny prompted. - -"Yes--I followed him. And that was the longest bit of following I've ever -done. That man, with the girl on his back, kept me coming along at a good -pace for hours and hours. Didn't even stop for dark, just marched on and -on. Must have known every step of the way. And I--there I was -pussy-footing along, expecting every minute to have him whirl about and -drop me with the young cannon of a revolver he had slung from his belt. - -"I didn't carry a weapon, Johnny, just a big pocket knife, that's all. -I'd left my light rifle at a bamboo shack in the jungle. I figured that -the night, darkness, and that fellow's falling asleep was my only chance. -And here he was marching on and on. - -"'Might as well give it up,' I told myself, 'he'll be breaking into a -clearing before long,--into a whole village of his sort. Then what will -be the good?' - -"I was really about ready to give up when the fellow turned abruptly to -the right, went staggering up a stiff slope for maybe a thousand feet, -then vanished, just vanished--" Pant paused. - -"A--a cave," Johnny breathed. - -"A cave," Pant nodded his head. - -"Just what you wanted." - -"Just that--" Pant nodded once more. - -At that instant, through the half open window there came the high shrill -note of a whistle--just such a night call as Johnny had once heard in the -heart of a jungle at midnight. - -Pant sprang to his feet. He went gliding to a window. There, crouching -low, he peered through a crack beneath the drawn shade out into the -night. He remained thus while the clock ticked off three full minutes, -then, without a word of explanation, resumed his place by the stove. - -"You see," he went on exactly where he had left off, "he had taken that -girl into the cave. He was armed, I was not. I could see in the dark, he -could not. But probably he had matches. Most likely he'd make a fire. I -had to have that girl back for my picture there at the edge of the -jungle. Besides--" Pant paused to stare at the floor, "I don't like -slavery. Do you?" - -"No one does, Pant, at least no one but those who keep slaves or make a -business of selling them." - -"That's just it!" Pant agreed. "So of course I had to rescue that girl. -Don't get me wrong, Johnny. I'm no romancer. Not a bit of it. But I had -to get that girl." - -"For your picture." - -"For my picture. - -"He fell asleep--that man. I crept into the cave. The girl was there -unharmed. Terribly frightened, of course. Bound hand and foot. I should -have killed him, that slave-snatching son of Ali. But to try that would -have been dangerous. Besides I hate corpses. Don't you, Johnny? Can't -seem to forget 'em ever. Remember that man in the mine back there in -Russia?" - -Johnny nodded. - -"I never forgot how he looked, Johnny." - -"So you carried the girl away and that was all of it?" Johnny relaxed. - -"No." Once more Pant was on the prowl. Springing to his feet, he wandered -like a cat looking for a mouse all over the place. Then he came back and -sat down. "That," he went on, "was only the beginning. You'd be -surprised, Johnny, you really would. Perhaps--" he spoke slowly, -"perhaps, you won't believe the rest of it. I--I guess I better not tell -you. It's too--" - -"No! No!" Johnny's voice rose. "Go on. Tell it all!" - -"It wasn't easy--" Pant went on at last in a slow drawl, "to find the way -back over the way we came, in fact, it was impossible. I tried to -remember the way we had come. But you know the jungle, Johnny, vines that -trip you and thorny bushes that turn you back. Rough and rugged it was -too, great rocks here and deep ravines there. - -"The girl found it difficult to walk, she'd been bound for hours. I -helped her along until she showed me she could go it alone. - -"Strange sort of girl, that one, Johnny. Never said a word--just marched -straight on behind me. Perhaps she didn't know my language. Quite surely -she didn't. Think of the languages spoken in Africa--French, Dutch, -Italian, German, and all the black lingos. - -"We marched on for hours," Pant heaved a heavy sigh. "All the time I was -looking for the way back. I found a river I'd seen. Then, in passing -around a rocky barrier, I lost it. All I could do was to make sure we -were going down, not up. That would take us toward valleys. What valleys? -Who could tell? - -"All the time I was thinking of the girl. Was she all white or only one -of those white-blacks they call albino. And what did she think of me? -Perhaps she thought me one more slave trader who had stolen her from this -big fellow with the hooked nose. - -"Johnny," Pant sat up quite suddenly, his strange eyes gleaming, his tone -mysterious. "Johnny, did you ever see a man in one place, just see him a -time or two, not know him very well--and then, weeks later did you think -you saw him again in a different place thousands of miles away where he -couldn't very well be?" - -"No," Johnny grinned. "There are some things that have never happened to -me. That's one of them. Why?" - -"Oh--oh nothing," Pant settled back. "About this girl now. It was queer, -Johnny, downright queer. We'd come to the top of a high ridge. Dawn had -come, as it always does in the tropics, with a rush and with the joyous -scream of a thousand birds. - -"We stood there on the ridge looking down at a sort of barren plateau -when some baboons, a whole troop of them, came marching out from the -jungle. Huge fellows they were. Powerful beasts with arms a foot longer -than mine. Powerful? Johnny, one of them could have grabbed me and broken -every bone in my body. But they wouldn't, Johnny, I knew that well -enough. Once, for a whole week, I'd lived in such a place, just to watch -them. If I met one on the trail he'd try to bluff me. He'd march straight -at me swinging his huge fists and cracking his teeth as if he meant to -tear me to bits. When he was twenty feet away he'd stop dead in his -tracks. Then I'd laugh at him, laugh big and loud. And the poor old -fellow would turn and go slouching away like some huge bully who's been -running a bluff. - -"No, they wouldn't harm us, Johnny, those baboons, but they were -interesting to watch. They played a sort of ball game with a cocoanut, -tossing it about. They did the leap-frog act better than any boys you've -ever seen. They had just seated themselves in a circle for some other -game, when all of a sudden, a sound from the jungle startled them." - -"A sound?" - -"A shot, Johnny, a shot fired close at hand! You may think I wasn't -startled. That big boy with the hooked nose was my first thought. I -dragged the girl into the fronds of a low growing palm. - -"It wasn't the big fellow with the hooked nose, Johnny. Worse than that." -Pant rose to take one more prowl about the room. "Wild men, Johnny, a -whole troop of them! And were they wild! Such faces! Such bodies! Such -weapons! - -"Scared, Johnny? Of course I was scared. All these wild men hate whites. -All whites looked the same to them. One glimpse of my face and the face -of the girl! That's all that would be needed. They'd get us, those wild -men. Worse than a whole drove of those little tropical pigs, these wild -men were. They'd sure get us. - -"I looked around for some place to hide. Then I glanced back where the -wild men were. I saw right away they had troubles of their own. They were -looking back and scurrying for shelter all at the same time. - -"Somebody was after them. We were close to the border. Had they been on a -raid? Were whites after them or some other black men? There wasn't time -to settle that. - -"Gripping the girl by the wrist, I led her back among the bushes, then -along the ridge a short distance. And what do you think I saw, Johnny?" - -"Can--can't guess," Johnny stammered. - -"A cave, Johnny, a perfectly good cave. Wouldn't believe it would you? -Well, you'll not believe what happened after that--you couldn't." - -"Yes, Pant," Johnny's voice was low, "I'll believe it if you say it's -true. Couldn't be any stranger than the things that happened to us up -there on Behring Straits in Russia." - -"Don't seem that they could be," Pant rumbled down deep in his throat. -"You'll be surprised, Johnny. Downright surprised. We--" - -Pant broke short off to sit staring at the window. The shade was drawn. -Only one small light was turned on. This left the window in deep shadows. -The light from a street lamp was brighter than the light from within. The -wind was blowing, tossing tree branches about. Like ghostly fingers, -these branches traced strange moving patterns on the shade. - -Johnny was shocked by the change that had come over his companion's face. -Lips parted, nostrils wide, eyes aglow with strange fire, he sat there -staring as if entranced. - -"Only the shadow of tossing branches," Johnny said reassuringly. - -"No, Johnny," Pant's voice sounded hollow, "No, Johnny, that was not all. -Excuse me, Johnny. I--I've got to go." Next instant without a sound the -boy was gone. - -Then Johnny, staring once more at the curtain saw, for an instant only, a -pair of massive shoulders, a giant head, a strangely hooked nose--all -this appeared in dark silhouette on the window shade. One instant it was -there, the next it was gone. Only the eerie, wind-traced tossing shadows -were left. - -For a full five minutes Johnny sat there staring. At last, with a heavy -sigh, he arose to go. - -Once again, as he snapped off the light, then for a period of seconds, -stood in the doorway, as on that other night, he was seized with a -strange notion, that Pant had not been there, only his ghost; that the -strange boy had been killed over there in Ethiopia--his spirit returned -to haunt his friends. - -"Nonsense!" he exclaimed. "It's true I didn't touch him but ghosts don't -eat mince pie." - - - - - CHAPTER X - KENTUCKY'S DOWNFALL - - -The change from the shadows of the Blue Moon and the weird whispers of -Panther Eye to the low roar of Dave's boiler room and Dave's own low -rumbling voice was almost startling. Dave was real, and quite human, the -heating plant, made up as it was of bricks and pipes, pumps and boilers, -was about the most substantial thing in the world. No spooks here. - -In this place for six hours every day Dave reigned as king. He had come -to love that room as some people love their homes. The mild, clean air, -made pure by the constant breathing in of those twin boilers, brought -unconscious joy to his heart. The low hiss of steam, the faint roar of -the fires on the grates, the quish-quash of the pumps, were music to his -ears. - -To his nicely tuned ears, every sound had a meaning. If the hiss of steam -increased, if a pump bumped ever so softly, if the fire's low roar sank -to a whisper, he was on his feet. His hands grasped a shovel, a valve, or -a wrench and in a trice all was right again. - -More than this, the old heating plant stood for a very definite change in -his life. The moment he stepped through those doors and good old John -MacQueen said, "Your work will be this. You will do it this way and that -way," he had become important both to himself and to others. He was a -worker. - -He loved to sit there, with the green shaded light gleaming low, with the -shadows leaping among the pumps and the pipes, and picture the rooms in -those other buildings. In the gym, all aglow with light, a practice game -of basketball was in progress. Soon the players would go bounding down -the stairs to the showers. In the old brown stone building across the -way, Prexy, in his office, dictated letters, in another room the -treasurer thumbed his ledgers. Far up beneath the rafters were bat-roosts -where a score or more of boys bent over tables reading intently, or -figuring feverishly. In the red brick "dorm," at the far corner of the -campus, more than a hundred girls garbed in lounging pajamas, kimonos, or -more formal garb, were studying. - -"All these," he would think with a smile, and a glad tug at his heart, -"are warm and comfortable on a damp and chilly night, because I am here -watching these old furnaces and listening to that hiss of steam. I am -part of a big thing. I am a worker." - -Ah, yes, what more could any boy ask, a chance to study, to listen to the -talk of men older and wiser than himself and then to do his part in -making all this possible for many others. - -Did Dave think of this often? Probably not. His head was full of forward -passes, lateral passes, touchdowns, college algebra, chemical formulae, -and all the rest that made up his life. For all that it was good at times -just to sit there listening and thinking, just thinking and -listening--nothing more. - -A sturdy, cheerful, independent lot were these Hillcrest boys who worked -their way. And there were scores of them. On the football team there was -Stagger Weed, who tended a string of furnaces; Rabbit Jones, who swept a -dozen floors every day; Punch Dickman, who was a hash slinger at the -Golden Gate, and many others, happy warriors all. - -"Howdy, Johnny! How's things?" Dave greeted as Johnny came in blinking -from the light. - -"Fine, Dave." - -"And the Blue Moon?" - -"Wonderful, Dave." Johnny dropped into a chair beside Dave's small desk. -"Dave, how's football?" - -"You saw how it was Saturday," Dave laughed. - -"Yes, but--" Johnny's brow wrinkled, "you didn't use my good pal, -Kentucky, very much." - -"No-o," Dave spoke slowly, "we didn't. He's trying too hard. Have to let -him slow down a bit. But he's a fine kid, Johnny, a mighty fine kid. I -like to see him run. Wait until next Friday. You know we play on Friday -this week, Naperville's request. You'll see a thing or two. Just you -wait!" - -Johnny was willing enough to wait if Dave felt that way about it. He did -wait. He did see things, wonderful things for a while--and -then--well--yes, and then. - - * * * * * * * * - -"Look!" Dave's tone was low, tense with emotion. "We gotta' beat that -Naperville gang. We just got to. And we can do it, Old Kentucky." He -placed a hand affectionately on the mountain boy's shoulder. - -The great day had come. The Naperville game was about to start. Never -before had there been such crowds, so much color, enthusiasm, and -cheering. - -"We can do it," Dave went on, "just you and I. No one can dodge the way -you can. And I--I'm a battering ram. I'm good! I even admit it," he -chuckled. "I'll go through 'em. You follow on and make the gains. We're -going to have a touchdown two minutes after the first whistle. I'll tell -you how," his voice dropped to a mere whisper. "Artie will give you the -ball. I'll hit their tackle, hit him hard and ram their line into a heap. -That makes a hole. You go through, far as ever you can." He drew a long -breath. - -"And then?" Kentucky asked in a low, quiet drawl. - -"Same thing. Four times running," was Dave's reply. "Every time we'll -gain a little less ground. Shouldn't wonder if you'd be thrown for a loss -on the fourth. There's a bright sophomore on that Naperville team--too -bright. Plays right guard. He'll break through and smear you. Let him!" -Dave chuckled. "And then," another long breath, "then Artie will send you -through the spot where that same right guard belongs. He'll be feeling so -happy about smearing you, he won't be watching, or if he is, he'll expect -that same play. You should get through, all the way through, kid! Make it -a touchdown, boy. Make it a touchdown." He wrung the younger boy's hand. -"There's the horn." - -Who can say what went on inside the Kentucky boy's mind as he crouched -behind the line waiting for the snapping of the ball? As yet all was -quite new and strange to him. They expected so much of him. They wanted -him to beat this Naperville team. Naperville meant nothing to him. But to -his team mates and all the old grads, the letter men of other years, it -meant a great deal. - -But here was the ball. He felt its hard smoothness in his hand, saw Dave -plunge forward to send a player crashing to one side, saw the opening and -went through for a gain of a yard, two, three, four, eight yards. Then a -bolt of lightning appeared to hit him and he went to earth. - -The instant the whistle blew, he felt Dave's hands on his shoulder, -helping him to his feet. - -"Grand, Old Kentucky! Better'n I expected. Now make it a first down." - -A first down it was. The crowd on the bleachers screamed its approval. -The boy could hear them shouting: "Na--per--ville! Na--per--ville! Beat -'em! Beat 'em! Smear 'em! Smash 'em! Kill 'em!" The shout, coming in slow -motion at first, picked up speed until it sounded like an on-rushing -train. - -"Steady, boy!" Dave warned. "Don't expect too much. Remember!" - -"I--I'll remember," Kentucky's breath came short and quick. - -There was need to remember, for on the second down he failed to gain and -on the third he was thrown for a loss of two yards. It was at this moment -that the mountain boy became conscious of that Naperville guard. He was -not only a smart boy, he had a mean turn to his nature. He leered as if -to say, "Ha! Ha! Big joke! Smeared you, didn't I?" - -Ballard's face was a mask as he took his place for the next play. Then, -as he received the ball, he faked that same line plunge, saw that leering -guard leave his place, then, like a flash of fire, shot to the right, -through that opening and away. - -Then a strange thing happened to his mind. As a player flashed past him, -he was to him no longer a player, but old Nicodemus, the Colonel's ram. -And now here was another off to his right. Oh, well! offer him a hip, -then fade. He faded down the field. To the left a third Nicodemus -appeared. He too was dodged. But here he was now straight ahead of him, -not Nicodemus, of course, but the Naperville's safety man, all that -remained between him and a touchdown. - -With a friendly grin, holding the ball straight out before him, the -Kentucky boy sprang straight at the waiting giant. - -Thrown off his guard, the giant reached for the ball. But, of a sudden, -the ball was not there. Stopping dead in his tracks, Kentucky had pivoted -sharply to the right and was away for that touchdown. - -Then how the bleachers roared. - -"See! I told you," Dave grinned as he came up with the Kentucky boy. "Two -minutes to a touchdown, exactly by the watch!" - -Kentucky did not laugh. He did not even smile. Strangely enough, at that -moment he was seeing a face, an unfriendly, leering face, the face of -Naperville's right guard. A chill shook his slender frame. He wanted to -plead with the coach. Strange as it may seem, he wanted to be taken out -of the game. "But how foolish!" he muttered. "What reason could I give?" - -He did not quit the game. He played on, but ever and again, as there was -time-out and he lay flat upon the ground relaxed, with eyes closed, he -seemed to see that leering face and always it caused him to shudder. - -After their brilliant start, the team slowed down a bit. The quarter -ended without another touchdown. - -In the second quarter, Naperville took the ball and, for the most part, -kept it. With the dogged determination of a slow, heavy team, they at -last pounded their way across the field to a touchdown. Since both teams -had made good on kicks, the score was now tied. - -But not for long. Hillcrest went into the air. The grilling practice of -that week did not go for nothing. Three times their forward passes were -complete. It was a short lateral caught by Kentucky and hurled high and -wide to Dave that at last scored their second touchdown of the game. The -kick was good. - -Then again came tough going. The Hillcrest team was tiring. Like shock -troops, a half dozen husky subs were pushed into the Naperville team and -again they battered their way across the field and over the goal. The -kick was good. Once again the score was tied. - -Then came the five last tense moments of the game. Even faces in the -grandstand were drawn into hard fixed lines. Men were there, stout, gray -haired men, who, in their day, had gone romping over their ancient enemy -to victory. Now they wanted that victory once again, wanted it terribly. -True, there was one more game scheduled with this team, but every game -counted, every game! There was no time like the golden now. - -"Smash that line!" they chanted. "Smash that line! Smash that line!" - -As they went into a huddle, Dave muttered to his team: "Remember what we -did in the beginning? They've forgotten by now. Same play, all the way -through, except just three plunges through left tackle, then one through -right guard." - -Hillcrest's ball on the enemy's thirty-yard line. Four minutes to play. -First down, ten to go. - -Snap! The ball fairly cracked as it reached Kentucky's hands. Dave broke -a wide opening. Kentucky went through to a first down. - -"Break that line! Break that line! Smash 'em! Smash 'em! Smash 'em!" the -bleachers chanted. - -Kentucky passed his hand before his eyes--that leering sophomore was -there again. - -Now he was off once again for a gain of six yards. - -"Make it a first down!" Dave muttered grimly. - -From the enemy's bleachers there came a mighty roar: "Stop that man! Stop -that man! Kill him! Kill him!" Dave knew they meant him. He grinned -broadly. A moment more and he was laughing, for the bruised and battered -tackle of the opposing team straightened up to shout back to the now -silent bleachers: - -"Stop him yourself! He ain't no man! He's a stick of flaming red -dynamite!" - -"Red dynamite!" The Hillcrest bleachers caught the words and hurled it -back. "Red dynamite! Red dynamite! 'Ray for Red Dynamite!" And so, in a -flash, Dave was named for life. - -They did not make it a first down, not that time, for, as if he had -rehearsed the act, that grinning, leering guard broke through once more -and threw Ballard for a loss. As he did so, he hissed some words in the -mountain boy's ears. Kentucky heard it but indistinctly. Even so, his -blood raced. His fingers itched for action. As he rose, he stood there -like a marble statue, white and cold. - -The next play came with the speed of thought and, like a radio flash, was -executed. Kentucky went straight through the place left by the leering -guard. It looked like a touchdown. But no, he was thrown hard, just one -yard from the goal line. - -"What a break!" Dave exulted. "First down and a yard to a touchdown!" - -The crowd saw it all and went into hysterics. Hats soared high. Girls -screamed. An old grad fell backward off the bleachers, barely escaping a -broken neck. The bleachers were a riot. - -But what was this? Players on both teams leaped into action. They began -piling up, pulling and hauling. When it was all over, Ballard, white -faced and panting, was dragged from the bottom of the heap. - -There had been a fight going on beneath that pile. Kentucky and that -leering Naperville guard had been at it tooth and nail. - -"He was cho--choking me!" the Naperville guard gasped. "He--he nearly -killed me." - -"What happened, Ballard?" the coach asked, crowding in. - -The Kentucky boy made no reply. He was white as marble and shaking like a -leaf. He turned, pushed his way through his own team and walked -unsteadily to the bench to drop upon it like a sack of sand. - -A hush fell over the throng. The referees conferred. There was nothing -for it, whatever the cause, the Kentucky boy had started a fight. Fifteen -yards penalty for Hillcrest. - -Less than two minutes to play and sixteen yards to a touchdown. Hillcrest -lost heart. Four downs and only four yards gained. Naperville took the -ball. They booted it down the field. The whistle blew. The game was over. - -"Only a tie," came a murmur from the bleachers. "Only a tie and we might -have won." - -"Only a tie and we might have won," the words were taken up by more than -one player. But Ballard, Old Kentucky as they had lovingly called him, -such a short time before, did not hear. He was not there. He was far -away, how far no one seemed to know. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - A RIDE IN THE NIGHT - - -An hour later Johnny Thompson found the Kentucky boy sitting in a chair -beside the range in the cook room of the Blue Moon. He was all crumpled -up like a rag doll and still shaking like a leaf in the wind. Once, when -Johnny was in Central American jungles, he saw a monkey caught in a wire -trap. He too had been all crumpled up and trembling. Ballard was like -that. A great wave of remorse swept over him. "Shouldn't have brought him -up here," he told himself savagely. "Belongs down there in the mountains, -he does, down there where men are free as squirrels or woodchucks." - -And yet, as he paused for sober thought, he could not be sure. What -should be done? - -"Boy, why did you do it?" he asked in a voice that vibrated with -kindness. - -"Can't nobody call me no name like that," the Kentucky boy grumbled -without looking up. "Just can't nobody at all." - -"So that sneering guard called him a vile name!" Johnny thought to -himself. "There's a penalty for that too, but Kentucky didn't know. Too -bad! No good to tell him now." - -What should be done? He was seized with a sudden inspiration. - -"Ballard," he spoke in as steady a tone as he could command, "I'm driving -back to the mouth of Pounding Mill Creek for the week end. Want to go -along?" - -Ballard did not look up. He replied in a word of one syllable: "Yes." Yet -it is probable that few spoken words have ever expressed so much. - -"All right. We'll start in an hour. With luck, we'll be there in seven -hours." - -For a boy, Johnny had a very long head. There were many things he might -have done. He might have remonstrated with Ballard, told him that in the -mountains you could kill a man for calling you the wrong kind of name, -but not in Hillcrest. He might have sympathized with him, might have -said, "We'll get even with that Naperville mob." The thing he did could -not have been more right, had he been advised by a score of older heads. - -When at last they started, there were three in the car instead of two. He -had run across Jensie. She had insisted on going along. The car seat was -wide. Johnny was not slow in accepting her challenge. So, with an hour of -sunlight and many hours of glorious moonlight before them, they took the -long, broad, winding trail that leads south. - -Mile after mile sped by and not a word was said by anyone. They are -strangely quiet people, these mountain folks--yet there are times when -they appear to speak without saying any words. Their very silence speaks -for them. Johnny had felt this many times. He was feeling it now. Jensie -seemed to be saying, "Don't be too hard on him, Johnny. Don't let the -boys be too hard on him. It's our mountain ways." And Ballard? He seemed -to be saying, "I won't go back. I'll never go back. I won't go back," -repeating it over and over. Strangely enough, because of this repetition, -Johnny felt sure that in the end he would go back and he was glad. - -They came at last to the crest of Big Black Mountain. There, without -quite knowing why, Johnny cut off the gas and allowed his car to go -rolling along to a gliding stop. - -A second look told him why he had not gone on. He had been stopped by the -sheer beauty of the scene that lay before them. Big Black Mountain is not -a peak, it is a tree-grown ridge stretching away for miles and miles. To -right and left of it are other ridges, Little Black Mountain, Stone -Mountain, Pine Ridge, and all the rest. These ridges, covered as they -were with the golden coat of autumn and shone down upon by a matchless -moon, made a picture of breath-taking beauty. Jensie too felt the glory -of it all, Johnny knew, for he felt her heart leap. - -"It--it's grand!" she murmured. "And to think! This is MY country." - -"Yes," Johnny's voice was low with emotion, "it's your country." - -As he said this he was not thinking of Jensie, but of Ballard, who sat -motionless in the car, saying nothing at all. This was HIS country. What -was he thinking now? Johnny would have given a dollar to know. - -"His country," Johnny whispered to himself. Along those ridges chestnuts -and beechnuts were falling. Squirrels were frisking about on the ground. -With a gun and a good hound-dog--Ballard owned one of the best dogs in -the mountains--you could have a perfect, gloriously golden day, hunting -those squirrels and keeping an ear open for the distant gobble-gobble of -some wild turkeys who might, just might, be hiding in those hills. - -"What a life!" Johnny barely escaped saying the words aloud. "What a -grand and glorious life!" Deep down in some hollow a fat old coon was at -this moment stealing corn. Rabbits were frisking in the moonlight; Johnny -saw one go dashing across the road. Down there, far below, was a two-room -log cabin, Ballard's home. In the narrow, coal-burning grate, a low fire -would be gleaming. Above the mantel hung Ballard's rifle. Beside the fire -slept his favorite hound-dog. - -"And I'm going to ask him to give it up," Johnny told himself. "Going to -tell him he should go back to college, to books, to serving coffee and -hot dogs, and back to football. How can I? - -"And yet--" Johnny touched the starter. The car went purring down the -slope. And yet--yes, he would ask him. What if it was good sport to -wander the hills in search of game? What if the mountains did call? What -would it get you in the end? With an untrained temper, the rifle that -sends a squirrel tumbling over and over from the top of a tree might at -last be turned upon some human being. And after that, long years in jail. - -"That," Johnny told himself soberly, "is what football's for, to teach a -fellow to take it. Not to take vile names. The referee will take care of -that, but to take a tumble, to be thrown, thrown hard again and again, to -be bumped and bruised and still be able to smile. That's football, a -grand and glorious sport!" Yes, he'd ask Ballard to go back. He MUST go -back! - -"I--I'll get off here," Ballard broke in upon Johnny's solemn meditations -and high resolves. "There's a short cut through the hills. I'll be home -in a quarter of an hour." As Johnny stopped the car, Ballard hopped out. - -"Thanks, Johnny! Thanks a powerful lot." - -"Good-bye, Ballard," Johnny called. - -"Good-bye, Ballard," Jensie echoed. "We'll be seeing you." - -"We'll be seeing you," the hills echoed back. Ballard was gone, swallowed -up by darkness and his beloved mountains. - -Jensie did not speak again until they were before her own gate. Then she -said quietly: "I'm going hunting with Ballard in the morning, Johnny." - -"Does he know it?" Johnny asked in some surprise. - -"No, but he will. It won't be the first time we've gone hunting together, -nor, I hope, the last. - -"Thanks, Johnny." She was out of the car now. Her hand was on the gate. -"Thanks awfully for bringing us down." Next moment she too had vanished -into the darkness. - -For a moment Johnny sat in his car thinking. Yes, these were strangely -silent people. Jensie had not asked him to go with them on that hunting -trip. She had given no reason for not doing so. There was a reason. She -expected him to know the reason. He did--and was glad. - -As he drove on to Cousin Bill's place, he was able to dismiss Ballard -from his mind. He thought of the old mill and its mystery, of Donald Day -and his grandfather, who was still in the hospital. He thought of the -young aviator down in the valley who said he had found a wonderful new -fuel for his airplane motor. Ballard had told him that this aviator had -become Donald Day's best customer. "He's bought an old horse and wagon," -Ballard had said. "Every day he comes up and carts away three or four of -those queer jugs." - -"Wonder what's in those jugs," Johnny had replied. "Really, don't you -know?" - -"Cross my heart," Ballard had answered. - -"Well, I'm going to find out," Johnny had said with determination. But -would he? Well, here he was at Cousin Bill's. Now for a few winks of -sleep. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - STRANGE WEALTH - - -"Want to come down with me?" - -It happened as simply as that. Johnny Thompson caught his breath, -breathed hard twice, then said, "Y--yes. Sure I would." - -The boy who had asked this surprising question was none other than Donald -Day, grandson of the wizard of Stone Mountain who in a mysterious manner -managed to make something of great value out of air and water alone. It -was the next day. Jensie and Ballard were away in the hills with dog and -guns but Johnny and Donald were standing at the door leading to the -mystery room beneath the mill. The key was in Donald's hand and he was -saying quietly, "Want to come down--" - -"Wonder if he does not know that his grandfather kept the whole thing a -secret?" Johnny thought to himself. "Wonder if I should tell him. I--" - -At that moment little Bexter Brice burst through the outer door. "The -worst things do happen," he exclaimed. "Poor old Uncle Mose Short!" He -dropped down upon a rustic seat. - -"What's happened?" Johnny asked, for the moment allowing his interest to -be drawn from the enthralling mystery below. - -"Well, you know," Bex was speaking slowly now, "Mr. MacQueen always took -a great deal of interest in Mose. Mose is old, really old, no one knows -just how old, but he's been game. He's worked. Times have been hard but -all he's asked is a chance to earn a poor sort of living and now--" he -sighed. "Now it looks as if that chance would be cut off. - -"You see," he turned to the city boy, Donald, "your grandfather was -trying to save Mose's mule when he had that terrible fall." - -"So," Donald flashed him a friendly smile, "it's sort of up to me to take -on the burden Grandfather has been forced to lay down?" - -"Something like that," Bex agreed. - -"But you know," he went on, "Uncle Mose has earned money mining coal -beneath his little patch of land and selling it to people down in the -settlement. It's a terrible sort of mine. The coal doesn't lay flat down. -It stands half on edge. Mose has managed somehow. But now--" he sprang to -his feet. "Now Blinkey Billy Blevens, the meanest old skunk out of jail -claims that his father bought the coal rights on all the land up on -Mose's creek, and he says he can stop Mose from mining it." - -"Why he can't do that can he?" Johnny stared. - -"Of course he can if he wants to. What we'll have to do is to make him -not want to. But how? That's the question." Bex stared at the floor. - -"Appeal to his better nature," Johnny suggested. - -"He hasn't any that anyone has ever discovered. People have tried to find -some good side to him many times," Bex answered gloomily. "They've never -found it." - -"Some people can be frightened into doing what is right. It's not very -nice but sometimes it's the only way. What's he likely to be afraid of?" -Donald asked. - -"Lightning," Bex replied promptly. "Lightning out of a clear sky. He -claims he was once knocked over and nearly killed by what he calls a -'bolt from the blue.'" - -"H'm," Johnny mused. "That's a large contract." - -Then the new boy, Donald Day, said something very strange. What he said -was, "I shouldn't be surprised if we should be able to arrange it." - -"You mean--" Johnny stared. - -But just then someone called to Bex from outside the mill and Donald said -once more to Johnny: - -"You want to go down?" - -At once Johnny's mind was all awhirl with thoughts of mysterious whispers -and wheezes from those lower regions of the mill, and with the strange -wealth that came from those depths. "Sure," he said once again. "Sure I -would." So the other boy turned the key in the lock and they went down. - -"I've helped my grandfather at this sort of thing quite a lot," Donald -said as he switched on a light--the place below had no windows. "He used -to have a shop just outside of the city. That was where I worked with him -most. But the air there was too impure, too much dust. Lot of smoke from -chimneys and factories. - -"So he came down here." The boy seemed to be talking to himself quite as -much as to Johnny. "Air down here in the mountains is about as pure as -you can hope to find anywhere. No cars shooting along kicking up dust and -coughing out gas. If any smoke passes over, it crosses at the mountain -tops, not down here. - -"Another thing," he pushed a lever. There came the sound of rushing water -and slowly revolving wheels. "Another thing," he repeated, "this power -down here is cheap. Don't cost you anything. All you have to do is to -keep up the dam and see that the mill is in good repair. You've really -got to have cheap power. Costs only about half as much down here." - -"What costs half as much?" Johnny thought this question but did not ask -it. Johnny could wait. - -From one corner came a sucking sound. This increased until the room -seemed full of the sucking and hissing of a steam engine, yet there was -no steam. It was strange. - -Donald dragged a canvas-covered something from a corner. This proved to -be a large jug. It was not made of clay however, nor of glass. - -"Porcelain," Donald explained as he saw Johnny eyeing it. "Better than -metal because it is a slow conductor of heat. Shrinkage in this business -is terrible. A gallon may last a week--then it's gone. And you can't -confine it. Oh my, no! That is, I don't think you can, at least not in -any small way. There's a great manufacturer somewhere up north, I've -heard it said, who does confine it in large quantities. But it's -dangerous. Some secret process. No one allowed near it. Blows the end out -of a building now and then. You can imagine what this place would look -like after an explosion," he laughed. After that he slid the big jug in a -corner to connect it with a pipe. From the pipe there came a sort of -white smoke. - -"White smoke," Johnny recalled Ballard's words of some time back. "But -what's it all about?" - -During the moments that followed, his curiosity grew and grew and grew. -Then of a sudden, the other boy said: - -"Look!" - -Dragging the big jug free, he tipped it over to pour some white, steaming -liquid over the palm of his hand, then quickly shook it into the air. - -"You can do that--" he slid the jug back into its place. "You can even -take some in your mouth. But you better spurt it out quick. Just imagine, -216 degrees below." - -"Wha--what is it?" Johnny managed to gasp. - -"What?" The other boy stared. "You don't know? Why I--" He stared afresh. -Then he pronounced two magic words: "Liquid Air!" If Johnny did not think -there was any magic in them at that moment, he was soon enough to know. - -"Air isn't a liquid," he protested. "It's a gas." - -"Water's not a liquid either," Donald smiled. "Not always. When you get -it hot enough it becomes steam, a gas. When you get it cold enough it is -ice, a solid. Air is just the same, only difference is you have to get it -terribly cold before it becomes a liquid. That's just what I'm doing now. - -"Watch those pumps. They're putting air under great pressure. That makes -it cold. When it's just so cold, I run it over pipes full of more air. -That makes air number two pretty cold. I put air number two under great -pressure. Then it is cold enough to turn into a liquid, part of it. It -drips off just as condensed steam does." - -"And so-o," Johnny drawled, "you get liquid air. How much is it worth?" - -"From fifty cents to one dollar a quart." - -"Whew!" Johnny whistled. "High priced air I'd say." - -He dropped into a chair. "So that's how your grandfather got something -valuable out of nothing but the sky! Gold from the sky!" Johnny chuckled. - -"But say!" he was on his feet again. "Who wants the stuff? What's it good -for?" - -"Well," replied Donald after turning a valve and setting one more pump -hissing, "men go about the country lecturing on liquid air, freezing up -tennis balls so hard they crack on the floor like an egg shell, making -tuning forks out of lead by freezing it up, all that. They buy liquid -air. - -"Big mills that manufacture locomotives use liquid air. They freeze up -whole engine wheels with liquid air, then put on the tires, which are not -frozen. When the wheel thaws out it expands and there you have your tire -on tight as a drum. Funny business isn't it? - -"But mostly," he slid another jug into position, "liquid air is split up -before it's used." - -"Split up?" Johnny stared. - -"Sure," Donald grinned. "Air contains six gases. The principal ones are -oxygen and nitrogen. Oxygen is used a great deal, nitrogen very little, -except in time of war. - -"But the other gases are used a great deal too. Ever walk down the -streets of a big city at night and notice all the gleaming, flashing -signs?" he asked. - -"Sure have!" - -"Remember the inches of glass tubing all full of something that glowed -red, blue, green, yellow?" - -"Sure." - -"Well, those tubes each contain gas, krypton, argon, or neon. That's why -they are called neon signs. A great deal of that gas comes from liquid -air or is separated by the aid of it. So you see, if we can supply -manufacturers with clean, cheap liquid air we have--" - -"A fortune!" Johnny drew in a long breath. "How wonderful!" - -"Well," Donald said slowly, "perhaps not a fortune but a chance to live -and to help others a little, and that is something these days. - -"Liquid air," he went on after a moment, "makes a wonderful explosive. -You see the oxygen in liquid air is free to join with carbon. All you -have to do is to soak charcoal in liquid air, attach a fuse to it, -scratch a match then run. The result is a glorious explosion." - -"Swell for Fourth of July!" Johnny enthused. - -"Wouldn't it be though--" - -"But say!" Johnny exclaimed. "Why not use it for mining coal?" - -"It has been done in Europe." - -"Look!" Johnny stood up. His eyes gleamed. "Bex says that old Uncle -Mose's mine contains the toughest vein of coal he ever saw. He picks away -at it for hours and only gets a small load. Suppose you could spare a -little of that liquid air?" - -"Yes. Sure." - -"I've got some charcoal," Johnny was growing enthusiastic. "Whole lot of -it. I got it from a charcoal burner. Got some fuse too." He was fairly -dancing about. "We'll make up some of that carbon-liquid air explosive -and loosen up ten tons of coal for old Uncle Mose. What a lift that will -give him!" - -"All right," Donald agreed. "I've always wanted to try that thing out. -We'll do it this very afternoon. What do you say? Around four o'clock?" - -"Suits me fine." Johnny grabbed his hat. "Got a thing or two that must be -done. I'll be back later for my next lecture on liquid air. It sure is -great!" He was away. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - A STRANGE BEAR HUNT - - -Four-thirty that afternoon found the two boys trudging along the mountain -trail which Johnny, Bexter, and Ballard had followed on that sad but -eventful day when the swinging bridge went down. - -In Johnny's pocket was a bundle of tough paper bags. Slung across his -shoulder was a sack of pulverized charcoal. In a sling, Donald carried a -jug of liquid air. "Looks like a water jug," Donald laughed. "One drink -from that jug would be your last. Two hundred and sixteen below zero!" - -"We saw a bear on this trail a while back," Johnny broke in. "He had a -young pig in his mouth. Somebody's got to get that bear. Old Uncle Mose -lost another pig last night." - -"What if we met him now?" Donald stared ahead. - -"Probably miles away," Johnny replied quietly. - -A moment later they rounded a curve and, off to the right, a dark opening -appeared. - -"That's the cave," Johnny explained. "Grand place I guess. Bear went in -there." - -"Suppose he's in there now?" Donald's tone was eager. - -"Probably not." - -"Let's just go in a little way. Always did want to see the inside of a -cave. I've got a flashlight." - -"All right. Can't stay long though. We've got to blow up a coal mine. -Don't forget that." - -A moment more and they were winding in and out over a narrow passageway. -This passage soon widened into a large room. Still another moment and -they were standing speechless while Donald's flashlight played over -massive pillars of faultless white. - -"It--it's like a great, beautiful church," Donald murmured low. In that -still place even his murmur echoed and re-echoed from pillar to pillar. - -"What a place for silence," Johnny whispered. Yet, even as he spoke that -silence was smashed into a million echoes by a tremendous outburst of -sound, a roar that might, Johnny thought, have come from the throat of -some prehistoric monster. But Johnny was not deceived, this was no -mythical monster. It was the bear. - -What was to be done? The passage was narrow, the bear apparently all but -upon them. - -"Here!" With hands that trembled slightly, Johnny filled a paper sack -with charcoal, then thrust a length of fuse into it. - -Again there came that terrifying roar. - -"Here. Give me that jug." Tipping the jug on one side he saturated the -charcoal in the paper bag with liquid air. After that, drawing on heavy -mittens, he pressed the mixture into a solid mass. - -"Now," he breathed. "We'll see." - -Donald was trembling from head to foot but Johnny was calm. He stared -straight ahead toward the spot where the bear at any second might appear. - -With the roar of the enraged bear still ringing in his ears, Johnny -calmly lighted the fuse leading to the sack of liquid air and charcoal. - -The fuse sputtered and flashed. It was a fairly long fuse. Would it last -thirty seconds? Longer perhaps. Johnny felt the hair at the back of his -neck prickle and rise. It was a tense moment. Before him was the bear, -behind, a narrow passage and at his feet that strange explosive, liquid -air and carbon. - -"Will it explode?" he said aloud. - -"It will," Donald, his companion, replied. Then, as if awaking to a new -and terrible danger, he fairly shouted in Johnny's ear, "Come on! Run! -Run for your life!" Without a further word, he turned and fled. - -Johnny, who understood not at all, stood still watching that fuse grow -shorter and shorter. - -Then came the bear. With tongue lolling, white teeth all agleam, he came -roaring out of the shadows. Johnny turned as if about to flee. Then, -remembering that a bear was fast, that in that narrow passageway, he had -no chance, he turned resolutely about. - -The bear, apparently catching a glimpse of that sputtering spark of fire, -reared himself on his hind legs. With a sudden inspiration, Johnny seized -the bag of strange explosives and hurled it at the bear. To his vast -surprise, he saw the bear catch it neatly between his steel-like jaws. - -"A chilly mouthful," was Johnny's mental comment as he turned and fled. - -Never in all his life had he travelled so fast as now. Unconsciously, as -he ran, he waited for something. Just as he reached the last straight -stretch that led to daylight, the thing happened. There came a dull -explosion and Johnny, as if seized by soft but powerful hands, was lifted -and pushed up and out of the cave to land, sprawling, on a pile of -gravel. - -"Ah! There you are!" Donald exclaimed. "Ten seconds more and you would -have been too late. - -"But what happened?" he asked in a puzzled tone. "You had enough -explosive there to fairly blow the roof off the mountain." - -"The bear caught it." Johnny's head was in a whirl. "He--he must have -chewed it up and wasted most of it. Do--do you suppose it got him?" - -"Well," Donald chuckled, "I'm not going back to see." - -"Neither am I," said Johnny. "So let's get going. We've got a coal mine -to blow up before dark." - -The mining experiment was a complete success. Donald made up small -parcels of liquid air and carbon while Johnny drilled holes in the coal. -The charges were quickly stamped, the fuses were lighted, and then they -were scampering up the rope ladder leading to the mine and were away. -There followed six loud booms. - -"That should do it," Johnny grinned. - -As Johnny and Donald were walking back to the mill, Donald stopped quite -suddenly. Looking away toward the top of the ridge where a single power -line cut across to a distant coal mine, he said, "We might do it." - -"Do what?" Johnny asked in surprise. - -"Bring a bolt out of the blue. At least we might make it seem that way -for the benefit of that man, Blinkey Bill Blevens you know, who's been -going to make it hard for old Uncle Mose." - -"You might?" said Johnny. - -"Yes. Anyway, I'll give it a good think," was Donald's reply. - -Truth was, Johnny had only half heard him. He had suddenly remembered -something. Jack Dawson, the aviator, who had come to live down there on -the edge of the meadow, had said, "We'd have made the trip faster if we'd -had my new motor going." - -"A new kind of fuel," Johnny whispered to himself. "That's what he said. -More foot pounds of energy than any other fuel. Wonder what it could be?" - -At a rather late hour that same afternoon, Jensie and Ballard sat on the -trunk of a fallen tree. They were both deliciously weary. All day they -had tramped the hillsides. The dry leaves had rustled beneath their feet. -From time to time beechnuts had come showering down upon them. At other -times too, the deep baying of Ballard's big red hound had told them of -squirrels up a tree. It had been grand. - -Now they could see the sun casting long mountain shadows over the valley -far below. At their side rested six red squirrels and one big fat striped -coon. Yes, it had been glorious. Garbed in her knickers and russet red -sweater, the girl seemed a part of it all. - -"Listen!" Ballard exclaimed quite suddenly. "Bees!" - -Jensie listened but heard nothing. The sharp-eared boy was not long in -pointing out a huge, hollow chestnut tree. Some thirty feet from the -ground Jensie caught sight of a faint, wavering line. - -"It's a bee tree!" Ballard was excited. "A big swarm. Hundred pounds of -honey, mebby two hundred. Monday I'll come up and cut it down." - -"Monday, Ballard?" There was a power of suggestion in the girl's tone. - -Ballard made no reply. His face, as he looked away at the hills was a -study. - -"Ballard," the girl's voice was low and husky, "we've been to school -together all our lives. We belong to the mountains, you and I. And -because we belong, we have to do all we can for the mountains. - -"Yesterday, I saw the coach." Ballard shifted uneasily. "I asked if he'd -take you back on the team. He said, 'Ballard's never been off the team.'" - -The girl paused. Ballard's hand clutched at the log. His lips moved. He -did not speak. - -"The coach said," Jensie went on after a time, "that he understood the -code of the mountains. He's lived down here. But he says the code of the -mountains is not the code of Hillcrest. He said that people who call -other folks vile names don't have to be killed for it. In time they kill -themselves. They get to talking out real loud and then they lose all -their friends. After that they may not be dead but they might as well -be." - -Once again the girl paused. The shadows in the valley had grown longer. -All the meadow lands were in the shadows now. - -"Ballard," she began again, "we mountain folks can't be quitters. I quit -once. Daddy sent me away to school. I couldn't take it. I came home. -I--I've always been sorry for that. - -"But you, Ballard," she touched his hand, "you are a boy. Boys are -strong, you can't quit. It's for the mountains, Ballard, and for your -future, all the glorious, golden days that lie ahead. - -"I--I think we better go down now." She took up her gun. The big red -hound sprang to his feet. They were off. - -Their way home led past Cousin Bill's store. Johnny sat on the bench -beside the door. He was whittling and talking to old Noah Pennington. - -"Hello, Johnny," Jensie greeted. "When are we going back?" - -"Any time you say. How about nine tomorrow morning?" - -"Tha--that will be fine, Johnny. Won't it?" The girl turned to Ballard. - -"I--I--yes, I suppose so," Ballard stammered. - -"Will you come to my house or shall we pick you up at the rim where we -dropped you last night?" Jensie asked cheerfully. - -"I'll be at the rim, Jensie." - -"All right. We'll be going on down. Come and see me, Johnny." - -"See you at nine," Johnny grinned happily. - -"Leave it to the women," Johnny murmured when they were out of ear-shot. - -"Yes," old Noah Pennington, who sat at his side, agreed. "Leave it to the -women. Be a lot sorrier times in this here world if it weren't fer the -women folks." - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - WILD MEN, BABOONS, AND SOMETHING STRANGE - - -The shadows of night had fallen when the three wanderers, Jensie, Johnny, -and Ballard in their car came to a gliding stop before the Blue Moon. - -The door stood half open. A mellow glow of light shone at their feet as -they hopped out. From within came the murmur of voices and low laughter. - -"The old Blue Moon is still doing fine," Johnny smiled happily. "Come on -in and have a snack." - -No sooner had the door framed their faces than a voice shouted: "Here's -Old Kentucky! Kentucky and that mountain gal. Come on, Old Kentucky, give -us a tune." - -At once the crowd, composed of all the team and many of their friends, -was on its feet and cheering huskily. - -Seizing his companions, Johnny pushed them to the front. Picking up -Jensie as if she were a sack of sugar, he set her down on the counter, -then thrust a banjo in her hands as he whispered, "Do your durndest. -Nothing could be better than this." She flashed him an understanding -smile. Then, after motioning Ballard to a place by her side, she began -thrumming the chords, and "Old Kentucky Home" came whispering through the -room. - -Greeted by abundant applause, the two young Kentuckians played and sang -their way through a half score of melodious mountain tunes into the very -hearts of their listeners. - -Then, of a sudden, Jensie struck her banjo a thwack. She ran her fingers -across the strings to begin "Roll, Jordan, Roll! Roll, Jordan, Roll! Oh! -Oh! Oh! I want to go there, to hear old Jordan roll." - -Instantly every boy and girl in the room was on his feet and singing. How -the rafters of the old Blue Moon rang. - -Song followed song. Quaint, beautiful, melodious negro minstrels that -fitted the closing of the Sabbath day, they filled the minds of happy, -carefree youth with a mellow joy that is experienced oh, so seldom, in a -long, long life. - -"They're a wonderful bunch," Johnny said huskily as he helped Jensie into -the car an hour later. "A wonderful, wonderful bunch of fellows. Next -Saturday they will go out on the field and romp all over it to the tune -of a dozen touchdowns. And already, thank God, they've forgotten -Kentucky's blunder that cost them a game." - -"Old Kentucky will be the hero of the hour next Saturday, you'll see," -Jensie exulted. "Kentucky! My Kentucky forever!" - -That night Johnny sat long musing beside the fire. Surely there were -matters enough to occupy his thoughts. Kentucky was back. These mountain -people had a way of winning their way into people's hearts. He was glad -of that. But what of the games that were to come? Could this mountain boy -control his hot temper when things went wrong? He wondered and shuddered -a little. - -He thought of the bear and laughed. The bear was dead all right. He had -told Lige Fields about that explosion in the cave. Lige was short of -fresh meat. To a Kentucky mountain man, nothing is better than a good -juicy bear steak. He had found the bear with his head blown clean off. - -"Powerful stuff, liquid air and carbon," the boy said to himself. He had -some of the bear steak in his car. They'd have it for dinner in the back -room of the Blue Moon tomorrow. He'd invite Coach Dizney and a few of the -boys. - -He thought of Old Mose and his mule, thought too of the "ornery no-count" -Blinkey Bill who planned to beat Mose out of his coal mine. - -"He said we might fix up a little bolt of lightning out of the blue," -Johnny murmured. He was thinking now of Donald Day. Queer sort of fellow, -Donald was, mighty fine too. He wondered how a fellow'd go about -manufacturing a "bolt from the blue." He'd like to be around when it -happened, would too if it were possible. He could steal away down there -in the middle of the week. Artie Stark would manage the Blue Moon in his -absence. Plenty of boys needed work. - -Another thing he meant to look into. He wanted to visit that young -aviator down there in the Kentucky valley. What kind of a motor could he -be building? Johnny was interested in all sorts of mechanical -contraptions. He had once owned a car that ran on dust, just ordinary -coal dust. - -"Couldn't be that," he whispered to himself. "Couldn't--" - -Johnny was growing drowsy. But now, of a sudden, he was wide awake. The -latch clicked. There came the sound of shuffling feet. Johnny caught -sight of a shadowy figure. - -"Pant," he called. "Panther Eye, is that you?" - -"Yes, Johnny," the strange fellow's voice was low. "Yes, it's me. But -don't talk so loud Johnny, not quite so loud." - -As on those other occasions, Johnny prepared a small feast for his -wandering friend. Tonight, instead of talking, he sat silently watching -until the last bite was gone. Then he said quite suddenly: - -"Did he find you?" Johnny eyed Pant eagerly. - -"Who find me?" Pant stared. - -"Have you forgotten?" Johnny asked in surprise. "The shadow. That giant -with a hooked nose." - -"Did you see it?" It was Pant's turn to be surprised. - -"I'll say I saw it. Gives me the creeps just thinking about it now." - -"No-o," Pant said slowly, "he hasn't found me, not--not yet." - -Pant dropped into a chair. At once his face became a mask. Only the gleam -of his curious pink eyes, told that he was alive. Johnny knew the meaning -of this, Pant, like a turtle, had withdrawn into his shell. Johnny -settled into his place to take up a pencil and begin tracing geometric -figures on a square of paper. - -Pant was first to break the long silence that followed. When he did speak -it was as if the many hours that had passed since their last meeting had -not been. - -"You'll be surprised, Johnny," he said as an amused smile played about -the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps you won't believe what I tell you--but -I've got to finish that thing I was telling you." - -"Go on," Johnny urged. - -"Well, we went into that cave, that mysterious girl that may have been -white. I don't know about that-- - -"We hadn't been in there ten minutes when we heard a shuffling sound by -the cave's entrance and what do you think?" Pant paused to stare at a -spot on the wall. "What could you expect? Almost anything. What was it -but that troop of giant baboons!" Once again Pant paused. - -Involuntarily Johnny allowed his eyes to stray to the window shade. No -shadow there tonight. Even the tree branches were still. - -"Well, sir," Pant gave vent to a low chuckle, "there we were, that girl -and I crowded way back in the cave. And there were the baboons. They came -shuffling in, like thirty or forty boys playing hooky from school. And -silent! Say! I didn't suppose any wild creature except maybe a tiger -could be that quiet. - -"The girl was scared. Plumb scared to death. As she crowded close to me, -I could feel her heart beat madly like it might burst. Surprised me that -did, because these natives all know a baboon won't hurt you. Made me -think she was all white. Suppose she was, Johnny?" - -"Don't you know? Didn't you find out?" Johnny asked in surprise. - -"No--I--but where was I?" Pant broke off. "Oh, yes! That wasn't all, not -half, Johnny. You won't believe it but I'm going to tell you just the -same. The baboons hadn't much more than got good and settled, when there -came another quick shuffle outside the cave and in popped--who do you -think?" Pant drew in a quick breath. "That whole band of wild men." - -"Must have been a large cave." - -"It was!" Pant exclaimed. "But not big enough for all that outfit, anyway -not if that something strange that was after them decided to come in too. - -"Well," Pant went on after a pause, "the strange thing didn't come. -Perhaps there wasn't anything strange. Maybe these wild fellows just -imagined it. But there were baboons and wild men and that girl and -I--which was a whole lot too many. The baboons kept crowding back, back, -back, until one big fellow was square against my side and that girl -between me and the rocky wall of the cave. And all the time that bunch of -huge baboons, scared stiff by the wild men, who are always hunting them, -crowding more and more until I was sure we'd be crushed. - -"Something had to be done, Johnny, and I did it. I had a short hunting -knife in my belt. Getting a good grip on it I lifted it high to bring it -down square between that nearest baboon's shoulder blades. And then--" -Pant broke off to indulge in a prolonged reminiscent chuckle. - -"Come on," Johnny urged, "you'll see that shadow again." - -"No, I--well--to tell the truth, Johnny, there's little left to tell. -That baboon let out a most terrific roar. After that there was noise, -dust and confusion. That lasted three full minutes I guess, and after -that, believe it or not, they were gone, baboons, wild men, and all. That -cave was as silent as a tomb. - -"I was sorry about that baboon," Pant went on after a moment. "I never -like to hurt any living creature. But what else could I do?" - -"N--nothing," Johnny shook himself. Had he been listening to a fairy -story or a real adventure? - -"We waited an hour, that girl and I," Pant continued in a matter-of-fact -tone. "After that we crept out into the bright sunlight. We looked about. -There was no one to be seen, not even a baboon. You better believe me we -got out of there quick. - -"Well--" Pant stretched his long legs, "I found that river again. Then I -knew where I was." - -"And the girl?" Johnny breathed softly. - -"She had no idea where we were. And I feel quite sure--" Pant paused to -consider, "yes, I'm certain she had no idea what I was up to. She -followed me as she might have followed that big man with a hooked nose, -had he given her the chance, followed because there was nothing else to -do. - -"I kept getting more and more signs. A fallen tree, a particular cluster -of hanging vines I'd noticed before, a tumble-down native hut, all these -told me I was on the right track. - -"Just a little before sunset, I came to a spot I was sure of. It was not -a hundred yards from that clearing, the picture clearing, you know." - -"Yes, the pasture, the cattle, the gem of a cottage," Johnny -supplemented. - -"And the girl lost out of it," Pant broke in. "I was going to put her -back into the picture. I DID put her back," there was a note of triumph -in Pant's voice. "I stopped dead in my tracks, pushed the girl on before -me, then pointed straight ahead. - -"At first she did not seem to understand, just stood there staring. In -the end, I'm sure she only half understood, for she seemed to go -reluctantly. - -"I watched her until she was ready to part the branches that were to give -her a glimpse of home, then I ducked. - -"I can hide, Johnny, hide anywhere, always could. It's a gift. I wasn't a -minute too soon, for I was scarcely under cover when she let out a -scream." - -"A scream?" - -"Sure! One wild scream of pure joy. She had seen her home. Probably up to -that moment, she had never hoped to see it again. Who wouldn't scream? - -"Then," Pant indulged in a broad grin, "what do you suppose she did after -that?" - -"Went down through the jungle like a scared rabbit," suggested Johnny. - -"No. You're wrong," Pant heaved a sigh. "She stood there for a moment. -Then she turned and started back. Looking for me--wouldn't you say?" - -"Sure would." - -"But she didn't find me," Pant added dryly. "You bet she didn't. I can -hide, you know that, Johnny. That's one time I did a good job of hiding." - -"Why?" Johnny stared. - -"Well, you know, Johnny," Pant replied slowly, "you can never tell what a -lady will do when she discovers quite suddenly that you've done her a -very good turn. You can't now, can you, Johnny?" - -"No, you can't," Johnny laughed. "You really can not. I've known them to -throw their arms about their benefactor and--" - -"Kiss him," Pant made a face. "And that, Johnny, would have been -horrible!" - -"I don't know," Johnny said slowly. "That's purely a matter of taste. -Anyway, you were not quite fair to her. You had saved her from slavery, -worse than death. You didn't even give her a chance to thank you." - -"I thought of that, Johnny. Went back to the edge of the clearing the -very next day. Had some notion of showing myself. But I didn't--" Pant -broke off abruptly. - -"Why?" - -"The picture was there, Johnny, pasture, cattle, house and even the girl. -There was one slight change. A man sat before the cabin, a tall, thin man -in a white suit. Across his knees lay a long-barreled rifle. How that -barrel did gleam in the sun! So-o, Johnny, I didn't go down." - -"He wasn't looking for you." - -"Probably not. But people do sometimes make mistakes. And really, it -didn't matter." - -This was one time when Pant was mistaken, more mistaken than he could -imagine. It did matter. It mattered a great deal. - -"Well, I'll be going, Johnny," Pant stood up. - -"What's the hurry, Pant? No shadows tonight!" - -"There might be, Johnny, you never can tell. Good-night, Johnny." He was -gone. - -"The shadow of a glorious past," Johnny murmured low. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - VICTORY - - -The look of grim determination on Ballard's face as he took up practice -next day was both inspiring and disturbing to his good friend, Red -Dynamite, who, by this time had come to love the Kentucky boy as he might -a younger brother. - -"Steady, son," he warned as Ballard overran three long forward passes in -a row. "Head work counts more than footwork." - -Ballard quieted down. For a good hour and a half after that, the work of -run-and-pass, pass-pass-and-run, then pass again went on without a pause. - -"There!" Dynamite exclaimed at last, "That should do for one day. Come on -over to the Blue Moon for a hot chocolate malted." - -Kentucky dropped in beside him. Together they tramped from the practice -field. - -"You know," Dynamite said soberly, "when you've been around a place like -this long as I have you get to love it. Every foot of ground, every stick -and brick, every man and woman comes to mean something to you. They give -you a chance here. Suppose I could go to one of those big schools? Not a -chance! But here, here I sit and listen to the hiss of steam in the old -boiler room. Every fifteen minutes I hop up to feed in some coal and prod -the fires. Every day I eat dust and breathe a little smoke while I drag -the ashes out. That's all I have to do and that gets me a college -education. By and by, a degree. - -"And all the time," he drew in a long, deep breath, "all the time I'm -living. Living grand, Kentucky, better than I may ever live again. You'll -come to love it too, Kentucky. You'll want to fight and fight and fight -for old Hillcrest. - -"Here's the Blue Moon," he exclaimed as if afraid he had been guilty of -preaching. "Fill 'em up, Artie!" he held two hands wide apart. "Two big -long ones. Double malt and triple chocolate, steaming hot." - -"Two long ones coming up," Artie grinned broadly. "How's Kentucky coming -on?" - -"Fine!" Dynamite banged the table with his huge fist, then made the sound -of wind whistling through his teeth. "Just watch us next Saturday! I -smack 'em down and Kentucky goes through for a touchdown. Score'll be -about thirty-one to nothing I'd say." - -But would it? As Dynamite watched the Kentucky boy practice, each day he -seemed to see him growing slimmer, more hollow-eyed and nervous. Nor was -he the only one who watched. Kenneth Roberts the English professor was a -real fellow. He knew boys as well as English. He had written three books -for boys, real thrillers that clicked. When on Thursday, Kentucky sitting -on the front seat slept all the way through his class, English B-3, he -asked the boy to remain after class. - -"Ballard," he said without a smile, "you slept through my class." - -"I--I'm sorry," Ballard blushed. - -"A class room," the teacher's voice took on a mellow, kindly note, "is a -poor place to sleep. You've been practicing too hard and too long. You'll -defeat yourself. I want you to do three things, stop practicing, sleep -twelve hours tonight, cut all your classes tomorrow. I'll fix it up about -the classes. We--we're watching you, boy. We're pulling for you, son, -and--and praying for you." - -"Than--" the boy's chin quivered, "thanks awfully. I--I'll do whatever -you say." - -It is said there is power in prayer. If this is true the good professor's -prayers were not in vain. Hillcrest had never witnessed such a game of -football as was played on their grid-iron the next sunny Saturday -afternoon. - -As they watched, it seemed that their own team consisted of but two men. -One had been dubbed Old Kentucky, the other Red Dynamite. This, of -course, was not true. There were eleven men on the team. On the -defensive, blocking and tackling, they were all one. Even on the -offensive, in his own quiet way, each man did his full share. - -Even so, as the fans watched, they saw again and again a strapping fellow -in red jersey break through the opponent's line to go flaming down the -field. At once the cry arose: - -"Dy-na-mite! Dy-na-mite! Red! Red! Red! Dy-na-mite!" The rooters came in -time to turn that cry into a series of explosions, like the clash and -clatter of a front-line battle. - -But always, with a pigskin tucked in the hollow of his arm, there -followed a slender torch of red. And this was Old Kentucky. - -As they advanced down the field, Dynamite, with uncanny wisdom, picked -the onrushing opponents one by one. Those who remained, sprang all in -vain at the wisp of red that, like a flaming cardinal, went fluttering -past them to a touchdown. - -Twice this unusual pair achieved a run of sixty yards to a touchdown. -When the game was over, the score stood one point below Dave's prophecy: -30-0. - -"You sure done uncommon good today!" Johnny exclaimed dropping into a -slow Kentucky drawl as Ballard entered the Blue Moon. - -It was closing time. The lights were low. The fire in the big stove gave -forth an inviting mellow glow. The mountain boy dropped silently into a -chair, stretched his feet straight out before him, then, eyes half -closed, sat there silent while the clock ticked off a full quarter hour. - -"Yes," he roused at last, "that's what old Noah Pennington would call a -'right smart of a ball game.' But, do you know, Johnny, I don't think -I'll ever do my part as well again." - -"Probably you're right," Johnny agreed, understanding on the instant. -"There are times in all our lives when some special thing gives us a -mighty push and we climb to heights we may never hope to reach again. - -"But, Ballard, old boy," he hastened to add, "you'll do well enough. Now -you've got going, nothing can stop you. For once Hillcrest has a winning -team and I'm glad, mighty glad." - -"Tomorrow I'm coming back to work here in the Blue Moon," Ballard said -quietly. - -"Artie Stark has done enough for me. Every fellow's got to make his own -way," he continued. - -"All right, Ballard," Johnny's tone was as quiet as the other boy's, but -he felt a surge of warmth work its way through his being. He loved every -boy who took his place in life's battle-line prepared to do his part. - -"You'll be a lot of help, Ballard," there was real enthusiasm in his -voice. "You'll be popular. That will help the Blue Moon." - -"I--I'm glad you think so, Johnny," there was a wealth of gratitude in -the mountain boy's tone. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - ONE MINUTE TO PLAY - - -On the following Monday evening a meeting of the team was called by Coach -Dizney. When they gathered in the back room of the Blue Moon, the players -found a blackboard hung upon the wall. Lines, circles, and arrows had -been drawn upon the board. - -"Next Saturday, as you all know," the coach began, "we are to play Pitt -Tech. And I'm giving you fair warning that we are up against a stiff -proposition. Like the other teams we've played, they're heavier than you -are, ten or twelve pounds to the man. Worse than that they are fiends at -breaking up forward passes. I've looked up their record for this year. - -"So," he paused, "so what shall we do?" - -"New plays," suggested Stagger Weed, the center. - -"That's it," the coach smiled. "Newer, bigger, and better plays and -trickier ones. Now here," he turned to the board, "here is a play that's -a humdinger if you boys have the brains and the nerve to carry it -through." - -"Yeah brains," Punch Dickman laughed, "we check them in the class room -before we pass out." - -"You better bring them along next Saturday," the coach snapped back. - -"Now this," he began once more, "as you will see, as far as the line -goes, is a balanced formation. The right half is behind his own tackle, -full-back behind right guard two yards from line of scrimmage and left -half three yards back behind center. Quarter is in regular position. - -"Now," he drew in a long breath, "the ball goes back to quarter. Right -end and right tackle plunge ahead prepared to block any interference. The -right half and center drop in to fill these places, to prevent a break -through the line. The left half-back goes out about five steps directly -to the right, then turns and starts back. - -"Are you following me?" He did not wait for a reply. "When the quarter -gets the ball he immediately faces left and the left end comes round like -an end-around play. The quarter fakes giving him the ball but hugs it -tightly to his noble breast. When the Pitt line has swung round after our -left end, the quarter leaps to position and laterals the ball to Old -Kentucky." - -"And Old Kentucky goes racing forward to a touchdown," Rabbit Jones the -right half breathed. "How sweet!" - -"It's a keen play," Red Dynamite exclaimed. "If we only know it well -enough." - -"You're going to know it well enough!" the coach struck the table with -his fist. "That one and two or three more as hard to learn and as swell -to play, if only you know how. Will you do it?" - -"Yea--yea--yea--" they exclaimed in unison. - -"We've just got to do it!" Stagger said with solemn emphasis. - -"And now the next play," the coach wiped the board clean, drew more -circles then started explaining a second trick performance. - -All that week, sweating and toiling, working the old beans overtime, the -team went through the business of acting out plays that in the beginning -were confusing but in the end as natural and clear as the bright light of -day. - -More than once, during those gruelling hours as Johnny stood beside him -watching, the coach turned to him with a smile to exclaim low: - -"Good boy, Johnny! You sure found us a player. I never saw anything like -the way that Kentucky boy takes in those new plays. Quick as a whip too! -I suppose it's his Kentucky breeding." - -"Sure is," Johnny grinned. "There are times down there in the mountains -when there are just two classes of people. The quick and the dead. The -quick one gets his gun out from under his coat, the other just naturally -goes to the cemetery. Kentucky's grandfather was killed in a feud. His -father had a silk handkerchief drawn through his chest once, where a -bullet had gone first." - -"Whew!" the coach whistled, "No wonder he's quick!" - -Strangely enough, despite the coach's warning, apparently disregarding -all their trick plays, Dynamite, who was captain and called the plays, -started the game with a series of forward passes. The first two were -blocked. The third, almost a lateral pass, was good for a gain of five -yards. - -They punted, held the opposing team to a single first down, then, as the -opposing team punted, began again with forward passes. The second of -these was intercepted and, but for a lightning-like tackle by Old -Kentucky--which brought the spectators to their feet--might have resulted -in disaster. - -"What's the good?" Stagger grumbled. "Lose our shirt, first thing we -know." Dynamite made no reply. - -Once again as they came into possession of the ball, the opposing team -failed to gain. They tried for a field goal at forty yards. No good. - -Hillcrest's ball on their own twenty-yard line. Once more a pass. This -time, by great good fortune, it was received by Dynamite who blasted his -way down to the enemy's forty-five-yard line. - -After that more passes. Scarcely was the Hillcrest team in a huddle when -a certain half-back began shouting: "Pass! Pass!" - -Then something strange and startling happened. The team lined up and, as -the ball was snapped, Kentucky, Artie Stark and Tony Blazes raced to -receiving positions. The enemy, eager to block or intercept a pass -swarmed after them. - -But the ball was not passed. Just as Punch, the full-back, posed the ball -for the throw, like a blackbird after a cherry, Dynamite seized it from -behind, went sweeping away around left end which was all but deserted, -bumped squarely into one lonesome Pitt player, sent him sprawling and -romped away to a touchdown. - -"Did you see that?" a letter-man of other days exclaimed. "The old Statue -of Liberty play. And gloriously executed!" - -"Glorious!" echoed his companions. "Say! These boys are making football -history! And I'm told that more than half of them are working their way. -Quite wonderful!" - -"Wonderful and terrible," was the other's reply. "We old grads ought at -least to furnish a training table, where they could eat without cost -during the season anyway." - -The score, after the kick, stood 7-0. The boys were jubilant. They were -playing a supposedly superior team and beating them. - -That was the end to forward passes. All the passes that had gone before -were in preparation for this one grand stroke. Now it should be something -else. - -The next play they tried was too difficult. Artie Stark was smeared for a -loss of three yards. Worse still the ball bounced from his grasp and was -pounced upon by the enemy. - -After that, despite the team's heroic efforts to block them, their heavy -weight enemies battered their way to a touchdown. The kick was good. The -first half ended a tie. - -The Hillcrest team received the ball at the start of the second half. -Punch Dickman carried it back to his own forty-yard line. When the team -went into a huddle, Dynamite hissed two words that made them gasp: -"Modified suicide!" This was all he said. It was enough. Every boy's -nerves tingled as they lined up for the play. It was a strange formation, -five men to right of center, one, the end, at the left. Kentucky was in -his usual position only two yards back. Rabbit Jones, the other -half-back, was thirty yards out from the end of the line. Center and -full-back crouched behind the line. Signals were to be called on this -play. - -Artie Stark was calling, "Six--ten--seven--ten--" - -Dynamite was listening. Stagger Weed, big, a little too fat and very -obviously the center, moved uneasily, but no one noticed this. As the -last "ten" was called, Dynamite stepped in behind Stagger's great bulk. -Rabbit Jones moved forward to the line of scrimmage. Someone from the -bleachers roared, "Forward pass!" He was right, more right than he knew. - -The eyes of the opposing back field were on Rabbit Jones. -"Six--seven--nine--eleven" Artie droned the numbers. The ball was -snapped. It went to Punch, the full-back. He leaped to the right, took -three backward steps, then threw the ball high and far, not to the right, -but to the left. Not to Rabbit Jones, but to Stagger, the center. Stagger -gathered the ball to his ample bosom then went lumbering like a freight -train toward the distant goal. And why not? There was no one to stop him. - -Then such a roar as went up from the Pitt side of the bleachers. How the -Pitt team crowded around the referee. - -"He's their center!" they protested. "Their center! The center is not -eligible to receive the ball." - -"You're all wet," was the good natured referee's reply. "When the ball -was snapped, there was no player at the left of center. That made him -left end. And so-o--" - -He did not finish. There was no need. The disconsolate Pitt players, -wandered back to the line. - -The kick was good. "Fourteen to seven," Dynamite exulted. "If only we can -hold it. And we must!" - -They did not hold it, at least not for long. There is something about -being totally deceived, that makes men see red. The Pitt men had been -thoroughly tricked. They saw red, very red indeed. In the next five -minutes they took the ball from Hillcrest, made three first downs, threw -a long forward pass, then went over the line. The kick, however, went -wild. They were still beaten unless-- - -The whistle blew for the end of the third quarter. - -"We've got to hold 'em!" Dynamite muttered to Kentucky as they lay on the -grass. "We've just got to." - -"Best way to do that is to better our lead," was Kentucky's courageous -reply. "Remember how we went through left tackle?" - -"Sure." - -"Try it again." - -Dynamite did try it again and with results he could not foresee. - -The very first time Kentucky took the ball and Dynamite blasted him a -trail, they went clean through the defense line of the enemy and were -away. Then the fighting flight was on. Dynamite hit a husky opponent and -sent him spinning. A second man appeared on the horizon. Dynamite took -him on. He was big and powerful. Perhaps he fouled by holding, Dynamite -did not quite know. At any rate they went down in a heap and Kentucky, -the slim, fast-footed half-back sped on. - -A vast shadow loomed before him--the opposing team's safety man. -Grinning, Kentucky sprang forward to offer him the ball. - -Perhaps the giant had heard of this trick. Perhaps he was too dumb to -want the ball. Whatever it may have been, he did not reach for the ball. -Instead, he lammed straight at the slim youth. Kentucky was not quick -enough. With an impact that could be heard all over the field, they went -down in a heap. And Kentucky did not get up. Even when the referee took -the ball from his hands, he did not stir. He was out for keeps. - -"Poor Kentucky!" It was Jensie who spoke these words. She had seen it all -and had come racing onto the field. It was she who directed the boys that -picked him up, ever so gently, and carried him from the field. - -Meantime the game went on. Football is the game of war. When a few -wounded have been carried from the field, a battle does not stop. - -It was a grim battle that followed. No one blamed that big full-back, not -really, and yet--They must not win now. Pitt must not! - -The crippled Hillcrest team battled hard but could not gain. They punted. -Pitt carried the ball far into their territory. Two brilliantly executed -passes by Pitt men brought the ball to the Hillcrest ten-yard line. One -line buck and the distance to a touchdown was cut to five yards, one more -line buck and a slim yard stood between Pitt and victory. - -The Hillcrest bleachers were screaming: "Hold that line! Hold that line! -Hold that line!" From the wall of blue on the opposite side came the -words of a song: "Forward! Forward! March against the foe!" - -Little more than one moment to play with the ball on Hillcrest's one-yard -line. It was a tense situation. Pitt went into a huddle, snapped out of -it quickly, crouched like tigers, shuffled uneasily for ten seconds, -then--the ball sped. Dynamite followed it with his eye. "There! There! -There it is!" His muscles registered a sensation that may never have -reached his brain. - -The Pitt full-back had the ball--that same giant whose hurdling force had -crushed poor, slender Kentucky. Dynamite bore him no grudge--it was all -in the game. And yet--"It's all for Old Kentucky!" he hissed as, straight -as an arrow, he shot at the full-back. He struck him with the sudden, -solid impact of a bullet. The ball leaped from the opponent's hands. By -some strange chance, it shot straight into the air. It came curving down -into Artie Stark's arms. Too astonished to believe in his luck, Artie -started streaking down the field. Only one opponent half-heartedly -followed. The moment was all for Artie. So too was the game for, a half -minute after the play, the whistle blew and Hillcrest's most exciting, -most astonishing game was at an end. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - GLIDING TOWARD FRESH ADVENTURE - - -Artie Stark was carried off the field in triumph. This was natural -enough. Dynamite did not in the least begrudge him the honor, for had it -not been his spectacular run in the last minute of the game that saved -the day? How many had seen Dynamite's wild plunge through the line, the -plunge that broke up the opponent's play? Very few. Such things are not -seen. It is the lad with the long run to his credit who receives the -cheers. Dynamite did not care. He did not so much as think of it. His -mind was occupied with other matters. He and Johnny Thompson walked off -the field together. - -"Poor Kentucky," Dynamite was saying. "He doesn't seem to have any luck." - -"All the same," Johnny replied quietly, "it was he who won today's game." - -"That's just it," his generous hearted companion agreed. "To think of -practically putting the game on ice, then being smashed up! - -"I only hope," he added soberly, "that it's not too bad. We sure don't -get the breaks. Just when we're all keyed up and ready to go after -anything, then to lose our best man!" - -"It is tough," Johnny agreed. - -"And next Saturday," Dynamite groaned afresh, "we're up against St. -Regis, the lightest, fastest team in the Little Seven. Think what it will -be with Kentucky out of the game. But then," he sighed, "it may not be so -bad." - -"You'll get over to the infirmary and see him won't you?" Johnny asked. - -"Right away." - -"I'll see you later," Johnny turned to the right. "Have to get over to -the Blue Moon. The place will be a wild scramble." It was, all of that -and more. Plenty of work for everyone. The Blue Moon was coming to be a -huge success. - -Four hours Johnny worked at top speed. Dishing up ice cream, pouring out -steaming hot chocolate, slicing buns for hot dogs, directing his three -helpers, he found little time for thinking. When, however, the last -straggler had wandered through the open door and Aunt Mandy had said, "If -you all don ob-ject, I'll be agoin' on home," Johnny found time to think -of many things. As his eyes moved swiftly over the place, taking in his -three candy cases, all but emptied in a single evening, as they rested on -the polished counter and the shining table, a feeling of joy and pride -swept over him. He had said to the hostile world, "Here I am, ready for -work. Shove over. Make me a place." The world had answered, "There is no -place." He had replied, "O. K. then I'll make myself a place." - -He had done just that. The Blue Moon was a success, would be more and -more of a success in the months to come. It had become an institution, -and part of old Hillcrest. Yes, he, Johnny Thompson, was a part of -something big and fine. It was wonderful, this association with some of -the finest young people in the world. - -"I made a place," he whispered proudly. "A place for myself and -Kentucky." - -Kentucky, the name awakened him. How was Kentucky? He must know. Slamming -the stove drafts shut, snapping off the lights, twirling the key in the -door, he was away to the heating plant, hoping to find Dynamite. - -He was not disappointed. "It might be worse," the big boy said soberly. -"General shock and one cracked rib. The doc has him all taped up. Sure -can't play next Saturday. - -"That," he added slowly, "is not so bad. We can afford to take one more -licking. But when it comes to week after next, when we go up against our -ancient rival, Naperville, for that final game of the season, and, like -as not, for the championship, then, if Kentucky's out for good, it's -going to be just too bad!" - -"We'll do the best we can for him," said Johnny. "And here's hoping the -best is good enough." - -Dynamite's dire prophecy regarding the St. Regis game was not without -foundation. At the very beginning, playing on their own field, St. Regis -took the lead. But then, with two "pony" teams pitted against one another -and with Hillcrest's best pony in the paddock, or rather on the bench, -what chance did they have? Hillcrest took a good licking and Kentucky -took it hardest of all. At the end the score stood 21 to 6. - -Seeing how down-hearted the mountain boy was, Johnny Thompson said, -"Never mind, Kentucky old boy, about the middle of the week, when trade -is lightest, we'll step on the starter and go spinning back to our -beloved hills. There are some things down there I'd like to look into a -little further. What do you say?" - -"That," said Kentucky, with a broad grin, "will be somethin'." His grin -was even broader than Johnny had expected it to be. Little wonder, for -this boy had thoughts all his own. He was thinking, "Doc won't let me go -out on the field and practice, 'fraid I'll get this old rib bumped again. -Down in the mountains Doc has nothing to say about it. I'll just slip out -into the moonlight for a little practice with old Nicodemus." He chuckled -a wise chuckle. But to Johnny he said never a word. - -On Wednesday afternoon of that week they were on their way. - -Our minds are strange. For some of us a place left behind is a place -forgotten. It was so with Johnny Thompson. The moment that Stone Mountain -loomed up before him, Hillcrest was forgotten. Like the passing of the -morning mist, the Blue Moon, Red Dynamite, the entire football team and -all that was Hillcrest at its best, were forgotten. At once his mind was -filled with other scenes, other problems. The old mill with its sucking -pumps producing its strange liquid treasure, Donald Day, poor old Uncle -Mose, the ornery and penny-pinching Blinkey Bill, the proposed lightning -from the blue sky, the aviator down in the valley with his new type of -motor, all these clamored for first place in his imaginative mind. - -"Kentucky," he said, throwing back his square young shoulders, "life is -wonderful!" - -"It sure is," Kentucky agreed. He was thinking of old Nicodemus and the -moon that would hang like a Japanese lantern over the hills that night. - -And so they glided on down past Stone Mountain to the mouth of Pounding -Mill Creek and fresh adventure. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - TEN GALLONS OF AIR - - -Johnny's first visit on the following morning was at the old mill. He -found Donald Day busy as usual, compressing liquid air. - -"Glad to see you, Johnny," were his welcoming words. - -"Thanks," Johnny grinned. "Had a bolt of lightning from the blue sky -yet?" - -"Not yet, Johnny, but soon," Donald smiled a mysterious smile. - -"How's the chance of helping you?" - -"Fine, Johnny, when the time comes. Just now though, there's something -else you might do." - -"What's that?" Johnny was ready for anything. - -"Got something for the aviator down there in the valley. Want to take -it?" - -"Sure do!" Johnny's reply was full of enthusiasm. "He helped us take your -grandfather to the hospital. Never forget that." - -"We sure won't, Johnny. Just now he wants some liquid air. This is the -tenth order I have received from him. He wants ten gallons. It's ready, -so if you'll take it down, you'll be doing me a great favor." - -"Liquid air," said Johnny. "What does he want with liquid air?" - -"Don't know. Going to peddle it, like as not. Good profit in it. And an -airplane's the thing for carrying it. Gets it there quick so there's -little loss by evaporation." - -"Mebby that's it," Johnny agreed. Down deep in his mind, however, he did -not agree. He had quite another notion, a very startling notion it was -too. - -"More foot-pounds of energy," he muttered as he went on his way. "Wonder -if that could be true." - -"Good!" exclaimed the young aviator, as, an hour later, Johnny appeared -with a two wheel cartload of liquid air. "I'm just wanting that." - -"So you're really going to use it?" Johnny grinned. "I thought so." - -"Going to use it," the man stared at him. "Sure I am! Why not?" - -"Donald thought you might be going to peddle it." - -"Not I," the aviator laughed. "I'll be using a lot of it. Want to stay -and watch me?" - -"Sure I do!" - -Ten minutes later, Johnny found himself looking at the strangest airplane -motor he or anyone else had even seen. - -"And does it really use liquid air for fuel?" he asked. - -"Sure it does!" The aviator had reached for a small jug of liquid air. -"Watch and see. Liquid air and carbon, that's what she eats. - -"You put the liquid air in here and the carbon here. The mechanism mixes -it and throws it into the combustion chambers in just the right quantity. - -"I've had a tough time," he straightened up. "Liquid air was so cold it -froze up all my lubricants. But I've solved that. Got two sets of -feeders. One set is being thawed out by the exhaust while the other's -working. Going to be great now. Stick around until I get the motor hooked -up and we'll take a ride on air--liquid air." He laughed a joyous laugh. - -"But say!" His voice changed. "Tell that boy up at the mill that his -grandfather is much better. Got that word on my short wave wireless. -He'll be coming home soon. Fine thing. Great old man!" - -"Never was any finer," Johnny said huskily. "He's done a lot for these -people. He helped them to make a living. On Sunday he talked to them like -a father. He told the ones who have been doing a lot of fighting--" - -"Feud fighters?" - -"Yes, feuds. He told them they couldn't do it and be good citizens." - -"Right too, exactly right." The aviator reached for a pair of pliers. - -"Now!" his tone changed. "Just give me a lift shoving this thing into -place and we'll be away before you know it." - -A half hour later the airplane rose above the meadow and soared away. It -was a trial flight and the stout little ship was handled with greatest -care. They climbed far up into the blue sky but never was the narrow -meadow out of their sight. Johnny knew enough about flying to realize -that from that height, even though their motor went dead, they could go -gliding down to a safe landing. - -"Working perfectly," he shouted in the pilot's ear. - -Just then, as if to give the boy a shock, the motor let out a sudden -pop-pop-pop. The aviator, after touching a lever, tapped his head with -his knuckles as much as to say: - -"Knock on wood." - -A half hour later they came soaring back to earth. "She's working." The -pilot heaved a sigh of content. "Two or three more days and I'll be ready -to cross the continent. Tell that boy at the mill to freeze me up a good -lot of liquid air." - -"All right, I'll tell him," Johnny agreed. "It's--it's wonderful!" he -cried. "Riding through the air with only air and carbon for fuel. Is it -practical, a truly great thing? Will people everywhere be using liquid -air for airplane fuel before long?" - -"No-o," the pilot replied slowly. "I'm afraid not. Fuel that costs two or -three dollars a gallon is hardly practical. Besides, there may be other -drawbacks that haven't appeared yet. How will the steel parts stand -freezing and thawing? Things like that. - -"I'm afraid it's just a sort of sporting proposition," he added. "Anyway, -I'm just sort of playing at it. - -"There's this much about it though," the drawl left his voice. "On a very -long trip it would be wonderful, this liquid air fuel! It has more power -per pound than any fuel you can carry. And that means more miles. I -shouldn't wonder," he grinned broadly, "but that if they get this -stratosphere flying worked out perfectly, some fellow will one of these -days load his motor with liquid air and circle the globe in a non-stop -flight. I--I'll take you on a regular trip some of these days." - -"But not around the world," Johnny chuckled. - -"No. Not quite yet." - -Truth was, this "regular trip" was to be taken much sooner than they -imagined, and for a very important reason. - -"Guess I better get going," Johnny said. - -"All right. Don't forget to tell that boy about his grandfather." - -Johnny did not forget. He hurried away at once to break the good news. - -"Thanks," Donald smiled his gratitude when the message had been -delivered. "That takes a load off my shoulders. Now, perhaps I can get my -mind on other things." - -"What things?" - -"Old Uncle Mose and Blinkey Bill come first," Donald's brow wrinkled. -"Blinkey Bill claims he owns the coal rights on Uncle Mose's land. He's -stopped him mining coal there. Old tight wad! That's making things hard -for Uncle Mose. No coal to mine. Poor old Mose and his wife will starve. -Think of it, the oldest couple in the mountains! You'd think--" - -"There's nothing fair about it," Johnny broke in. "I doubt if Blinkey -Bill owns the coal rights on that land. If he does, his father got it by -some sharper methods that Uncle Mose didn't understand. And Uncle Mose -didn't get a thing for it, you can be sure of that." - -"Thing is," Donald turned to Johnny, "you and Ballard have got to play -your part, sort of work up the psychology, my professor would say. This -evening," his voice dropped, "just before dark, you boys just happen by -Blinkey Bill's house and stop to talk. He'll say: - -"'Jest come up and set a while and rest yourself,' he always does. So you -just go up and set." He laughed a low laugh. - -"And while you set," he went on, "you start talking about Uncle Mose, -what a hard time he has, how old he is and how wicked it would be if any -one would take a mean advantage of him. Just get Blinkey Bill to feeling -about as low down as the hind leg of a glow worm. - -"Then just casually," he took a long breath, "just slow like, as if it -sort of occurred to you, say something about how deadly lightning can be, -especially when it comes out of a clear sky. - -"The sky's going to be real clear tonight," he added as if it were an -afterthought. - -"Yes," Johnny agreed, guessing he knew what would happen. "It's going to -be uncommonly clear." - -Sometime later, an hour after darkness had fallen, Johnny and Ballard -found themselves seated on hickory-bottomed chairs on Blinkey Bill's -porch. They had been there for some time and had talked considerable, -especially about poor Uncle Mose. Blinkey Bill had listened and as he -listened, had appeared to shrink deeper and deeper into his chair. When, -however, Johnny said quite suddenly: - -"It sure is queer about lightning--the kind that comes out of a clear -sky!" Blinkey Bill sat up quite suddenly. - -"What's that you all are a sayin'?" he demanded. - -"I said it's queer about lightning out of a clear sky." - -"I don't believe there ever was any," Ballard put in. - -"Sure there were!" Blinkey Bill's eyes were popping. "I saw hit my own -self. Knocked me down. Might nigh kilt me, it did. I--" - -He broke short off. His eyes shone like stars as he stared at the crest -of the mountain, for there, sharp and distinct against a clear, black -night sky, a flash of light went zig-zagging away. It was followed ten -seconds later by a low, rumbling roar. - -"Lightnin'! Lightnin' out of a clear sky!" The look on Blinkey Bill's -face at that moment was a terrible thing to see. - -"It does sort of seem like lightning," Johnny said quietly. - -"Seem like!" Ballard had not been let into the entire secret. "It IS -lightning!" - -"Shore! Shore hit's lightnin'!" Blinkey Bill was trembling like a -cottonwood leaf in a high wind. - -Once more there came the zig-zag flash across the sky. This time the roar -that followed was fairly deafening. - -"Hit's judgment!" Blinkey Bill mumbled. "Judgment of the Lord almighty!" - -"What you all been a doin'?" Ballard asked, dropping into native speech. - -"Nothin'. Not nary a thing! I tell you nary a thing!" Blinkey Bill fairly -screamed these words. - -"How about Uncle Mose and his coal mine?" Johnny suggested softly. - -"That no-count old--" Blinkey Bill broke off. Mouth open, eyes staring, -he once again took in that terrifying spectacle that, so far as he knew, -was a special act of God, a bolt from the blue. - -"Tell you the truth," he was fairly whimpering now. "Fact is I ain't for -sartin' sure my Pappy bought in them coal rights." - -"Then," suggested Johnny, "you better let Uncle Mose mine his coal." - -"I reckon as how I orter do that," Blinkey Bill agreed. - -"Wait. I'll write it out." Johnny drew pencil and paper from his pocket -and pretended to write. Truth was he and Donald had carefully prepared -the release on Uncle Mose's coal rights hours before. - -"There," he exclaimed at last. "You sign right there." - -"Now wait a leetle," Blinkey Bill began to hedge. "I ain't plumb sure fer -sartin that--" - -Just then the most dazzling flash of all zig-zagged its way across the -blue-black sky. It was followed at once by a terrific roar. - -"Here! Here!" Blinkey Bill's voice trembled so he could scarcely speak. -"Here! Gimme that air paper. Hit's proper to sign hit, plumb proper." - -So the paper was signed. The boys departed and old Uncle Mose's coal mine -was saved for all time. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - WITH THE SPEED OF A WHIRLWIND - - -Later that night had anyone happened along the mountain trail above -Colonel Crider's pasture, as Johnny Thompson had done one night some time -before, they might have seen as on that other night, two dark figures -darting back and forth across old Nicodemus' pen. One led, the other -followed but not once did the one catch up with the other. At last, the -one that always led, climbed up the side of the pen to go tumbling over -it and disappear in the shadows that lie thick along the Stone Mountain -trail in the moonlight. The Kentucky football star had been having a -little practice. If one were to judge by his action it might be proper to -say that Nicodemus had enjoyed this nocturnal adventure quite as much as -the boy. - - * * * * * * * * - -"Here," Johnny was smiling as he handed a folded paper to Donald next -day. "Here's the release for Uncle Mose's coal rights. It worked like a -charm. But tell me, how did you do it?" - -"Not so difficult when you know how." Donald pointed to a long, -irregularly formed glass tube in the corner. It was in three sections. -"There's a transformer up there on the ridge. The line carries power to a -coal mine. Hope they don't arrest me for stealing power. Guess they won't -if I tell my story. - -"You see," he went on after a chuckle, "I had some gas extracted from -liquid air in those tubes. When they were all connected and hung down -from a tall tree they made quite a long, zig-zagging line. By running a -powerful current through the gas in the tubes, I was able to give you a -fairly accurate picture of what lightning is at its best. - -"Just a neon sign really," he added quietly. "Sort of irreverent to -imitate God's wrath perhaps, but I trust I'll be forgiven." - -"I see," Johnny's tone told his admiration. "But how about the thunder?" - -"Simple enough, but costly. Nice little explosion of liquid air mixed -with carbon." - -"You're an artist in your line," Johnny complimented him. - -"Perhaps," the other boy agreed. "Also something of a nut. Rather wild -sort of way to get what you want. I shouldn't care to recommend it as a -regular thing." - -Later that day Johnny found himself in his car threading his way over a -difficult passage. The hour for his departure with Ballard for Hillcrest -and the great game on the morrow was rapidly approaching. He did want one -more word with the aviator down in the valley so he had decided to have a -try at reaching him in his car. - -This try was to end in disaster. Just as he was negotiating the last -twenty rods of the trail something went wrong with his brakes. He shot -down a short, steep slope, took a sudden shock that all but sent him -through the windshield, then, with a sinking heart felt his right front -wheel crumple from the impact. - -"Here we are," he groaned. "No train until morning! No car available. And -tomorrow's the big game. Hillcrest will be defeated without Old Kentucky. -What's worse, Kentucky will die if he is not there. Could anything be -worse?" - -"See you're in a fix," a friendly voice said. The speaker was close at -hand. Johnny looked up. It was the young aviator. - -"Yes, a terrible mess!" Johnny's voice carried conviction. - -"Tell me about it." - -Johnny told of his dilemma, told it as he had never told anything before. - -"But why not let me fly you over?" the other suggested simply. - -"With your liquid air motor?" - -"Why not?" - -"Suppose it fails?" - -"It won't fail!" - -"Done!" Johnny gripped his hand. "I--I'll go get Kentucky and-and -thanks." - -"Save that for the end of the trip," the pilot grinned. - -"Are--are you," Johnny had been struck by a sudden thought, "could you -use a little publicity on your new type of motor?" - -"It would be thankfully received." - -"You shall have it," Johnny was away. - -On his way to find Kentucky, Johnny scribbled a note, then thrust it -together with two new paper dollars into Lige Field's hand. - -"Here Lige," he exclaimed, "hop on your pony and ride like sixty to the -Gap. Get this message off. The change is all yours." - -"Thanks, Johnny! Thanks a powerful lot!" Lige was away and so was Johnny. - -After racing up the creek and over a low ridge to notify Kentucky of -their good-bad fortune of a wrecked car and a promised airplane ride, -without waiting for the other boy to pack his bag, he hastened back -toward the meadow and the waiting plane. - -On the way he caught up with Donald Day. "Come on along with me to the -meadow," he urged. "We're flying back to Hillcrest for tomorrow's game." - -"Boy! You're going high-hat in a big way!" Donald exclaimed, increasing -his speed. - -"Case of necessity," Johnny explained. - -"One thing I wanted to ask you," Johnny said after a moment of silent -marching. "What would happen if you pumped a quantity of liquid air into -a football?" - -"Football would get mighty cold, nearly freezing, perhaps worse." - -"And then?" - -"Then it would expand until it burst. You can't confine liquid air, at -least not in any ordinary way." - -"That," said Johnny, "was just what I suspected. Those fellows played a -trick on us. A player kicked the football into the bleachers, one of the -fans substituted another ball he'd just given a shot of liquid air." - -"Strange sort of thing to do," Donald's brow wrinkled. "Tell me about -it." - -Johnny did tell him about that football game and the bursting ball. - -"Queer sense of humor," was Donald's comment. "Lost them the game, didn't -it?" - -"At least they lost it," Johnny chuckled. "Hope there'll be no monkey -shines tomorrow. Guess there won't be. Good clean, hard-fighting crowd, -that Naperville team. But they've got to take a licking. And they will if -only the old Doc will let Kentucky play." - -"Here's hoping!" said Donald. "And here we are at the meadow. There's -Ballard coming over the ridge. You can't stop that boy. He's a great -fellow. My grandfather is very fond of him. You're doing wonders for him, -Johnny. Got to be getting back. Here's luck for tomorrow!" The young -scientist gripped Johnny's hand. Then he was away. - -Five minutes later with their strange, air-burning motor hitting hard on -every cylinder, the boys, with their pilot, felt themselves being lifted -high into the bluest of blue skies that so often smile down upon the Blue -Ridge Mountains of Kentucky. - -To the inexperienced person it is impossible to judge the speed with -which an airplane travels. With no trees, no telephone poles, no nothing -speeding past him, he is likely to think of himself standing still in -mid-air. Not so Johnny Thompson. He had ridden in many planes and under -every possible condition. He had come to have a sort of sixth sense. This -was a feeling for speed. As he now sped through the air he became wildly -excited for he was, he knew, travelling faster than ever before. - -"It's the fuel," he told himself. "Liquid air and carbon." Stealing a -glance over the pilot's shoulder, he watched with amazement as the speed -indicator rose from two hundred to two-fifty, then to three hundred. - -"With a little tail wind, we'd beat the clock," he chuckled. "Be there -before we know it." - -They were, but not until Johnny had time for a few serious thoughts about -tomorrow's game. That game meant a great deal. For Hillcrest it meant a -final triumph over an ancient rival. All the old grads would be there. -Some had wired for reserve seats from a distance of a thousand miles. -Some, like himself, were to come by plane. Johnny thrilled at the -thought. - -He closed his eyes for a moment and into his mind's vision there floated -the "Crimson Flood," the team: Stagger Weed, Tony Blazes, Jack Rabbit -Jones, Artie Stark, Punch Dickman--all marched before him. And after -that, most important of all, Red Dynamite and Old Kentucky. "Good Old -Dynamite!" he whispered. "And Kentucky! They must win! They--" - -But what was this? Had something gone wrong with the motor? A chill set -him shuddering. They were circling for a landing. - -Then he laughed. Seizing Kentucky's hand, he gripped it hard. "We're -here!" he shouted. "Kentucky, we are here! The emergency landing a mile -from Hillcrest is right beneath us." And so it was. They had come with -the speed of the wind, no ordinary wind either, the speed of a whirlwind. - -Fast as they had come, the news of their strange and daring flight with a -new and little-tried motor had preceded them. Johnny's message had come -through. A crowd had gathered to see them land. In that crowd were -reporters and camera men. Their pictures would be in all the morning -papers. Johnny, Kentucky, and the inventor of this new motor would be -there. All this would be grand publicity for the inventor and his motor. -It would help to swell the crowd at tomorrow's game. Johnny was glad. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - IN THE GRIP OF A GIANT - - -That evening, just before nine, the team was gathered in the back room of -the Blue Moon for a last look at unusual plays and a cheering word from -the coach. - -"Football is a game of war." The coach spoke earnestly. "Back there in -those hard days of 1918 when some of us paid a long visit to France, we -practiced long weeks before we were sent into the trenches. That practice -was real, the realest thing any of us had ever known. It had to be. When, -in bayonet practice, we went after a dummy--a gunny-sack stuffed with -straw--that was, to us, not a sack but a man. It must be a man, for -tomorrow, next day, the day after, we would go over the top. Then it -WOULD be a man. Everything must be real. - -"Football is like that, you must go after things hard. You must buck the -line in scrimmage as you do in a real game. - -"Football is like war in other ways. If a battalion cannot go through the -enemy's line, it attempts to go around him. If an army is too light for -ground fighting, it takes to the air. You do the same thing in football. - -"In war, practice is not enough. When the zero hour arrives, a soldier -must have a clear head, his body must be fit, he must have his nerves -under control. Only so can he win and live. - -"You boys have practiced hard. You have given the best there is in you. -You are prepared. Tomorrow you must be at your best. Keep your heads. Get -a good grip on your nerves. Don't let the other fellows get your goat. Go -in to win!" - -"Yea! Yea! Hear! Hear! Hear!" came in a roar from the team. - -"Thanks," the coach smiled. "And now--" he broke off to stand at -attention for a period of seconds. Had his keen ears caught some unusual -sound? Johnny, who sat in a corner close to a half open window, would -have sworn he caught a faint rustle from the outside. "But who'd be -around this time of night?" he asked himself. "And after all, what does -it matter? All Hillcrest is loyal to our team." - -"Now," the coach went on at last, "we'll go through two or three plays -rather rapidly." Picking up a bit of chalk, he stepped to the blackboard. -"This play," he drew circles rapidly, "is one of balanced formation. -You'll likely try it after a couple of long, and probably unsuccessful -passes. In the play--" - -Again he paused to listen. This time Johnny did hear some sound from -without, he was sure of it. "Might be Panther Eye's black giant!" he told -himself with a shudder. "But then," he asked himself, "is there a black -giant?" He rather doubted it. He had come to think of that giant as a -black ghost. Panther Eye too might be a ghost for all he knew. - -"In this play," the coach began once more, "Artie passes the ball from -quarter to Punch at full. Punch poses as for a long pass. But Dynamite -swings round close behind the line of scrimmage and the ball is thrown to -him. In the meantime, Rabbit and Tony dash round left end in position to -receive a pass. Dynamite, you go through the line for whatever gain you -can, then, if there is a chance, shoot a pass to Rabbit or Tony. After -that," he grinned, "it's your game. Let your conscience be your guide." - -"Have you got that?" he demanded. - -"Yea! Yea! Yea! You bet!" came from every corner. - -"All right. Now this next one is a trick play. It--" - -He did not finish, for at that moment, from somewhere outside, there came -a most unearthly scream. - -"Who--what's that?" Every man was on his feet. - -They dashed to the window just in time to witness a short, sharp struggle -between two shadowy figures. One was of ordinary size, the other a person -of huge proportions, a giant. Apparently it was the smaller person who -had screamed, for now, as he half broke away, he let out one more -blood-curdling cry. - -The next instant he was free and dashing toward the front of the Blue -Moon. Ten seconds later some heavy object launched itself against the -locked door of the place and an agonizing voice cried: - -"Let me in! For God's sake let me in. He'll kill me!" - -There was no opportunity for letting him in. Before anyone could reach -the front of the large room, he broke the door open, and fell panting on -the floor. - -Walking calmly past the prostrate figure, Johnny stepped out into the -moonlight and took a sweeping survey of the surrounding territory. -Nothing unusual was to be seen. The giant had vanished. - -"Never-the-less there was a giant!" he said slowly. "Pant's big, -hooked-nose giant, I'll be bound. But why, I wonder, was he man-handling -that other fellow?" - -The reason was not far to seek, at least Johnny felt that way about it, -for the moment he laid eyes on the frightened stranger, who by this time -had risen from the floor, he recognized in him, the sneering Naperville -sophomore, the very one who had come near to causing Kentucky's downfall. - -Every boy in the room had recognized this fellow, the coach as well, -but--Johnny thought this a trifle strange--not one of them all gave any -indication that they knew him. For that matter, however, the boys seemed -willing enough to let Coach Dizney do the talking. - -As for the stranger, Johnny thought he had never seen anyone so -thoroughly frightened. Eyes wild, nostrils widely distended, lips far -apart, he stood there panting. - -"Well, son?" the coach's tone was disarming. - -"He--he would have killed me," the boy spoke with difficulty. - -"Who?" - -"The big, black giant." - -"Giant?" The coach looked at him strangely. "We have no giants in -Hillcrest. Must have escaped from a circus." - -"Yes--yes, I--I guess that was it," the boy seemed relieved. - -"But what were you doing out there?" the coach asked quietly. - -"Just--why, just passing--just walking by." The stranger appeared -slightly confused. - -"There's no sidewalk there," the coach said. - -"Johnny," he turned about, "suppose you get the Chief on the wire. Tell -him to run over here." - -"O. K.!" Johnny was on his way. - -"I--I--" the stranger gave the coach an uncertain look. "Well you see -I--I got lost so I--I just sort of cut across." - -The coach seemed to have lost interest in the conversation. "Perhaps," he -suggested, "a good hot drink would brace you up. Cup of hot chocolate -perhaps." - -"Yes, I--" - -"Kentucky," the coach turned to smile, "one cup of hot chocolate on me." - -"One cup of hot chocolate coming up." The look on Kentucky's face was a -study. Was he amused? Was he afraid, perhaps, that he might be tempted to -throw the drink in the stranger's face? Who could say? Enough that he did -his duty as host faultlessly. - -There came the stamping of feet and the Chief of Police arrived. "What's -up?" he demanded. The stranger stared at him, gulped down the last of his -cocoa, then swallowed hard. - -"This boy says he saw a giant that broke loose from a circus." Was there -a twinkle in the coach's eye? - -"Dangerous," said the Chief. - -"He--he shook me," the boy stammered. - -"Bad! Very bad!" said the Chief. "Then what?" - -"He broke in the door to this place," said the coach. - -"The giant?" the Chief appeared to stare. - -"This boy," the coach replied. - -"Oh, this boy! So!" The Chief's face was sober. "Breakin'-an'-enterin'. -That's it. Thirty days at least, I'd say." - -"But--but--" the boy's face paled, "he was after me." - -"Any confirmation?" the Chief looked about. "Johnny, did you see him, -this 'ere escaped giant?" - -"I went out and looked around," Johnny said truthfully, "I didn't see a -soul." - -"Breakin'-an'-enterin'," the Chief repeated slowly. "Pretty bad. Thirty -days, I'd say." - -"But, Chief," the coach appeared to protest, "that would be rather hard. -Perhaps-- - -"Got any relatives, son?" he turned to the intruder. "Anyone a hundred -miles away or so?" - -"Yes--yes I got an uncle in Springer," the boy's tone was eager. - -"Would you stay there three days if you were sent there?" - -"Yes--yes I would," his eagerness increased. - -"How about it, Chief?" The coach smiled. - -"Whatever you say, coach." - -"Fine! Will you see him on his way, Chief?" - -"Be glad to, coach. Come on, son." - -The Chief and his prisoner passed through the door, to enter a car and go -rolling away. - -"Snooping, that's what he was," said Dynamite indignantly. "Trying to get -on to our plays and signals. Oh well, we'll not be bothered with him -tomorrow, and, old son," he turned to Kentucky, "you won't have to choke -him for calling names. He won't be there to call 'em." - -"I shore am right smart 'bliged to hear that," Kentucky drawled. "That -there is the name-callin'est feller I might-nigh ever seed!" - -At that every boy in the room burst into a hearty laugh. - -"Perhaps," said the coach thoughtfully, "that was taking an unfair -advantage of the enemy." - -"Not a bit of it!" Dynamite exploded. "They beat us out of that last game -because he wasn't penalized for a foul. Besides, all spies should be shot -at sunrise. You let him off easy." - -"Glad you think so," the coach heaved a sigh of relief. - -"But what about this giant?" he wrinkled his brow. "How many of you -really saw him?" - -"I--I--I--sure! Sure we saw him," came in a chorus. - -"I think I might shed a little light on that. All of you get set for a -lemon soda and I'll entertain you with a yarn not one of you'll believe." -It was Johnny who spoke. - -While they drank their soda, Johnny told the story of Panther Eye, the -giant, and the kidnapped girl, told it through to the end, or at least, -as far as the story had gone. "Now," he ended, "can you beat that?" - -"Can't even tie it," the coach said solemnly. - -"Well, boys," the coach rose, "big day tomorrow. Time to start pounding -your ears." The team filed silently from the room. - -Later that night Johnny received a strange visitor. The last freshman to -drop in for a chocolate bar had left the door ajar. Since the evening was -mild and the room was warm, Johnny had not troubled to close it. Instead -he sat by the stove musing on many things. In his imagination he heard -again the roar of a bear, the loud boom of an explosion, the roar of a -thousand voices shouting for Hillcrest and victory. - -"Victory," he whispered. "Tomorrow's the day. Will they win? And -Kentucky, will he have a part in it?" In his mind's eyes once more he saw -them marching by, the team: Rabbit Jones, Tony Blazes, Stagger Weed, -Punch Dickman, Artie Stark, Dynamite, Old Kentucky, and all the rest. -What a fine bunch they were! And what a season it had been! His blood -warmed at thought of it. "To be a little part of a big thing like -Hillcrest College. Ah! That was something! It was--" - -His thoughts broken short off, he sat there staring at the apparition -that stood in the opening of the door. A girl, she was tall and -gracefully slender. And how fair she was! Her hair seemed mere moonbeams, -her face was like shimmering silk. Was she a ghost? Johnny started but -did not move. He had met up with ghosts of a sort before and had found -them harmless. - -"Pardon me," the girl's voice was low, musical. "Are you Johnny -Thompson?" - -"Speaking," Johnny was on his feet. - -"And are you a friend of a person they call Panther Eyes?" Her English, -though perfect, was spoken with a foreign accent. Johnny was plagued by -the notion that he had seen her somewhere before. - -"Yes," he replied, "Panther Eye and I have been great friends. Won't you -sit down?" - -The girl accepted the chair offered to her then, turning eagerly toward -him she said, "Can you tell me where he is--this Panther Eye? It is -important that I should know. He saved me from death, worse than death--I -wish to thank him. My father would reward him." - -"That," Johnny smiled, "happened in Ethiopia." - -"Yes--yes," her tone was eager. "You know about it. He has told you. -Where is he?" She glanced hurriedly about the room. - -"He is not here," Johnny said. "I do not know where he is, may never know -again. He's that sort." - -"Oh!" The girl voiced her disappointment. "That's--that's really -terrible. You see," she went on, "Father is--you might say--rather well -to do. Oil and all that. He went to Ethiopia to study oil prospects. He -found a valley there and came to love it. He sent for me. We lived there -happily. And then--then--" she covered her eyes for an instant. "Then -that terrible black giant carried me away. And--and your friend saved -me." - -"There's been a black giant around here," Johnny said. "I'm sure of that. -Could he have been the same man?" - -"Oh, no! God forbid!" the girl laughed uncertainly. "That was our -servant. We brought him from Africa. He--why, come to think of it, there -is a resemblance. But he--Oh my! No. He's not the man! - -"You see," she explained as Johnny gave her a questioning look, "we set -Hassie, that's our servant, to hunt up your friend, Panther Eye. He did a -good piece of work--almost. In the end though, he allowed him to slip -away." - -"He would have had a hard time stopping him," Johnny chuckled. "Even if -he'd known everything, he would have vanished. - -"You see," he leaned forward, "Panther Eye just wanted to take you back -so you would be in that picture again, the broad, green pasture, the -cows, the banana field, and all that. When you were back he was -satisfied. He isn't romantic, not in the least. And as for money, he -never appears to need it much. So--" - -"So it's not much use looking." The girlish figure drooped. "I--I did so -want to thank him!" - -"You might leave your address." Johnny suggested. - -"Yes. Yes. So I might. Will you loan me pencil and paper?" - -As Johnny stood close to the girl while she wrote down the address, he -became conscious of two things--that she was no ghost but a real person, -and that she was really quite charming. - -"And you," she favored him with a rare smile, "you will come and see us?" - -"Well--yes, perhaps." - -She held out her hand. Johnny took it in his own. It was a good firm -hand. Johnny liked the touch of it. - -"I said I would," he whispered, as she disappeared through the door. "But -will I? I wonder?" - -"Tomorrow," he thought with a thrill one minute later, "tomorrow is the -big day." Already the mysterious girl and her giant escort were crowded -from his mind. The team, the game, these filled his entire horizon. - -One more recollection slipped into Johnny's mind and out again before he -fell asleep that night. A half hour after their landing at Hillcrest he -had come upon Kentucky practicing football all by himself. He was -dropping the ball and picking it up, bouncing it on the ground and -catching it, retrieving it in every manner imaginable. One thing was -strange, the ball was soaking wet and the field was dry. - -"How'd your ball get wet?" he had asked. - -"I soaked it," Kentucky dropped it, then fell upon it. - -"Why?" Johnny had asked in surprise. - -"Well," Kentucky had replied quite soberly, "the weather man predicts -dampness for tomorrow. If it rains, somebody's going to drop the ball. -And I'll be ready to pick it up." - -"He doesn't miss much, that boy," Johnny murmured to himself just before -he fell asleep. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - DYNAMITE TAKES IT ON THE CHIN - - -Never before had there been such excitement about a Hillcrest football -game. By one o'clock in the afternoon, Hillcrest was deserted. Coaches, -busses, trucks and private cars had been forced into service. All -Hillcrest, professors, students, men, women, boys, and girls, everyone -journeyed to Naperville where the game was to be played. - -When the time for the kick-off came, they were all there. Old grads were -there too, hundreds of them. One man had journeyed all the way from New -York. Crimson banners and pennants fluttered in the breeze. The College -band roared, boomed and blared then settled down to, "Hail to Hillcrest!" -Ah, yes, it was to be one glorious occasion. - -A fine misty rain was blowing in from the east. But what of that? -Blankets, heavy coats, and ulsters defied the weather. As for the team, -they were all pepped up for the battle. Weather meant nothing to them. -Bumps, bruises, even cuts would mean nothing to them. Nothing short of a -broken leg could stop them today. - -Today was the day of days. Year after year they had gone down to defeat. -Today? Today! Just wait and see. - -One thought disturbed Dave Powers as he took his place. Old Kentucky was -in his suit but his bright, new crimson jersey did not shine out from the -field. Instead it was hidden beneath a heavy gray blanket. Kentucky was -on the bench. There, shivering from the cold, excitement, and bitter -disappointment, he awaited the kick-off. - -"Your rib is about healed," the doctor had said to him. "However, if you -should go into the game, and be tackled and thrown hard, it might result -in permanent injuries." - -Well, doctor's orders were doctor's orders, but to Kentucky, had it not -been for his teammates, they would have meant nothing. What were a few -broken bones to the loss of the year's game of games? It was Dynamite who -had said, "You stay out until I need you." - -"But promise me," Kentucky pleaded, "if the battle goes against you and -if you think I can help, promise you'll let me in." - -"Help, kid?" Dynamite had exclaimed. "Of course you could help. You and I -could lick that Naperville bunch all by our lonesomes. And will I holler -if we are getting the worst of it? You better believe I will, son!" - -All the same, as Dynamite went into the game it was with a wordless -prayer that little Kentucky might not be needed. - -From the very start it was a thrilling game. From the first, too, -Dynamite was to recall the words of Kentucky's passed on by Johnny: -"Somebody's going to drop the ball." - -Naperville led off with a great kick. Punch, who received the ball, was -tackled almost at once, on the Hillcrest thirty-yard line. On two line -plunges, Hillcrest picked up seven yards. Then, as Bud Tucker, who played -in Kentucky's place at half, came round the left end, he was hit hard and -thrown. The ball leaped from his grasp and was recovered by a Naperville -man. - -"Ha! Ha! Big joke!" one of the opponents yelled. They had heard this from -a defeated team. Now they evidently meant to use it against Hillcrest. - -To have the ball in the opponent's hands on one's own thirty-seven-yard -line at the start of a game is no joke. The hard-hitting Naperville steam -roller crushed the Hillcrest line again and again. "First down and ten--" -and scarcely a moment later once again, "First down and ten--" From the -bleachers came a roar like the breaking of a wild sea: - -"Hold that line! Hold that line! Hold that line!" - -Kentucky sat like a mummy in his blanket, shuddering and mumbling to -himself. - -Then, when it seemed that a touchdown was inevitable, once again, -"somebody dropped the ball." This time it was little Artie Stark who -recovered. Hillcrest's ball on their own thirteen-yard line. A quick -huddle, a sudden snapping of the ball, a ducking of the head by Punch -Dickman, as if to run with it, then a leaping upward like the rise of a -submarine, and a quick kick that, catching the opponents off their guard, -sent the ball rolling, all unmolested to Naperville's ten-yard line. - -"Bravo! Bravo!" Shedding his blanket as a snake sheds its skin, Kentucky -leaped into a wild Indian dance. - -But wait! Again that relentless beating back. There came line buck after -line buck that Hillcrest's slender line could not withstand. And after -that, with startling suddenness, forward passes. Naperville, too, had -learned how to invade the air. - -One pass was complete, then a second. As this last pass was caught by a -Naperville end, Dynamite too far away to do more than watch, saw him go -coursing straight down the field. The ball carrier was followed by his -own left-half. - -"Punch is there," Dynamite congratulated himself. "He'll spill him. And -how!" - -He had spoken too soon. Punch did spill the runner, spilled him plenty, -but the instant before Punch struck him, the runner threw a lateral to -the man who followed him. The lateral was good, Punch went down with the -Naperville end. The trailing Naperville half went through for a touchdown -and the Naperville rooters burst the head of their big bass drum from -sheer joy. - -As for Old Kentucky, he shuddered more violently than ever. "Here!" There -was a sharp, girlish voice close at hand. It was Jensie. She was holding -out a small jug filled with something piping hot. What was in the jug? -Kentucky knew and Jensie too. What did it matter about the rest? He drank -it all and shuddered no more. - -The game went on. Reenforcements were sent in to the Hillcrest line. This -stiffened up the game. For the rest of that quarter and all through the -second quarter the teams took turns bucking lines, trying passes, and -punting on the fourth down. Neither team made great gains. At the end of -the half the score stood at 7-0 against Hillcrest. - -"Dynamite," the slim Kentucky boy whispered tensely as for a moment Dave -took a place beside him on the bench, "you can't let them beat us! You -just can't. All the old grads are here. They're burning up for a victory. -I heard one of them say there'll be a training-table for the team next -year if we win this game. A free training-table, Dynamite! Think what -that'll mean to the boys who have to work! Let me come in, Dynamite. Just -let me!" - -"They'd bust you in pieces," Dynamite grumbled. - -"They'll never touch me," Kentucky's eyes shone with a strange light. "No -one ever has except that once and that--that was sort of an accident, you -might say." - -"They'd get you, Kentucky. Those boys are out for blood. They'd murder -you and then Doc would have me up for getting you killed." - -Kentucky made no reply. For a full moment he sat there in silence. "All -right, Dave," he said at last. His voice was low and flat. - -"This is terrible," Dave thought to himself. - -"Give us one more quarter," he pleaded after a moment of silence. "If we -don't score in the third quarter, you'll go in. I swear it. - -"But one thing," he added in a low tone, "you'll swear on the Bible you -won't let them tackle you. You'll throw the ball away--anything at all." - -"Swear it on a stack of Bibles," Kentucky grinned happily. - -Never had Dave worked, hoped, and prayed for a scoring punch as he did in -that third quarter. Never did the team back him up with greater -determination. Never had they attempted such dazzling plays. - -"Eighty-six," was the first order they received as they went into a -huddle. - -"Eighty-six coming up," Artie Stark gasped. - -The team lined up as usual, balanced formation. Punch Dickman dropped -back as if for a punt. The ball was snapped to him. He held it for a -period of seconds. Dynamite came sweeping in close behind the line of -scrimmage. Punch shot a shovel pass to him. He dashed round right end for -a gain of five yards. As he was about to be tackled he shot it to Rabbit -Jones. In the meantime Punch had followed Dynamite around right end. As -Rabbit saw the end of his own eight-yard break for liberty, he lateralled -it back to Punch and Punch went forward for a clean twenty yards. - -"Yea! Yea! Yea!" came from the bleachers. "Touchdown! Touchdown! -Touchdown!" - -"Ninety-three," Dynamite whispered. They were in a huddle and out again. -They snapped into position, five men behind the line, three a yard back -of the line, and two others one yard farther back. Punch received the -ball. Artie Stark touched the ground. He was behind the line but this -made him a technical lineman. Bud Talliver, a quarter who was also -temporarily quartered behind the line, took a short pass from Punch to -shoot around left end for a gain of twelve yards and one more first down. - -"Repeat," Dynamite whispered in the next huddle. There was a growing note -of confidence in his tone. - -They did repeat and at once met with disaster. The right guard of the -enemy smelled the play. Somehow he broke through to throw Bud so hard -that the ball bounced out of his hands and was lost to the enemy. - -"No good!" Dynamite muttered. "But we gotta' score! We just gotta' -score!" - -There are some things in this life that "just must" be done but, in the -end, because of circumstances beyond our control, cannot be done. -Hillcrest did not score in that quarter. - -Never in all his life had Dynamite been so disappointed, and never had he -looked upon a more radiant smile than he saw on Kentucky's face as he -approached the bench. - -"We'll get 'em," the mountain boy promised. "Two touchdowns in the last -quarter. It's written in the stars. I saw it in my forecast this -morning." - -"You been studying the stars?" Dynamite asked. - -"It's all written down in a book," Kentucky was shedding his blanket. The -hot drink from Jensie's brown jug was still coursing through his veins. - -"But, Kentucky," Dynamite remonstrated, "perhaps Doc won't let you." - -"He's gone," Kentucky grinned broadly. "Somebody's sick, an auto accident -or something. He left fifteen minutes ago." - -Dynamite was sunk. "I'd rather we lost the game," he muttered. - -By the time the whistle blew he had snapped out of that mood. Indeed he -felt more cheerful than he had at any time that day. Somehow, without -Kentucky at left half the picture had not been right. Now it was perfect. -"All the same," he muttered, "I'll not send him through the line. That -would be murder." - -When the hundreds of Hillcrest enthusiasts saw the slim Kentucky boy rise -from his place on the bench, throw himself through a series of wild -antics to set his blood racing, then walk quietly to his place behind the -line, a strange silence came over them. This lasted for some twenty -seconds then, like the coming of a wind storm in summer, there arose a -sound that increased second by second until at last it filled all the -sky. Speaking of it long after, Punch Dickman said it made his ears -tingle. "It was a sign," he added. "A sure sign of victory." - -But was it? At the start things went badly. Three line-bucks failed. The -punt that followed shot straight into the air. Rabbit almost retrieved -the ball, but failed. Fighting like tigers, the Naperville boys battled -their way to Hillcrest's twenty-yard line. - -As Dynamite scanned the faces of his men, he read their dogged -determination, but something else--a note of despair. Kentucky was not -like that. He was smiling. His eyes shone. His lips were parted. He was -murmuring something. Dynamite listened. What he heard sounded strange: -"It's a wet day. Somebody's going to drop the ball." - -Then the thing happened. On a third down, the opposing team tried a -forward pass. It struck the receiver's hands, seemed to rest there a -split second, then went spinning into the air. When it next came to rest, -it was in Kentucky's hands. Like a rushing prairie fire he streaked down -the side line for the far away goal. Once again, in his own mind, he was -in old Nicodemus' pen. It was moonlight. A shadow approached him, a -Naperville man. Flash! He was past that shadow. Another, another, and -another. Flash, flash, flash, he was past them all. Two tall, slim -shadows stood out before him--the goal posts. Flash, he was past them as -well. Then, with a deafening roar in his ears, he came to rest standing -up. A touchdown for Hillcrest. The kick was good. The score was tied. - -"We can't let it stand there," Kentucky said tensely as Dynamite came up. -"We must not!" - -"You're wonderful, Kentucky," his team mate whispered. "But think if only -one of them had hit you!" - -"Dynamite," the Kentucky boy whispered to his running mate, "I had three -uncles in the great war. Only one came back. Do you think they asked -themselves about machine gun bullets and shells? Football is war, Dave. - -"Besides," he added, "they can't get me. Nobody can. Even old Nicodemus -couldn't." - -The battle was begun once more. Enheartened, Dynamite took a chance. He -put his team through that five-men-back formation. Somehow it failed. The -tackle was thrown for a loss. Doggedly determined, he tried again. One -more loss. Third down and seventeen to go. A punt and the enemy had the -ball. - -By four brilliant forward passes Naperville carried the ball back to -Hillcrest's ten-yard line. - -"Touchdown! Touchdown! Touchdown!" came from the right bleachers. "Hold -that line! Hold that line!" came from the left. The nerves of every -player on the field were stretched to the breaking point. Naperville -charged the line. No gain. They charged again. No gain. Flash! They shot -a pass. It never reached the receiver. With a leap that took him high in -the air, Dynamite caught the ball, then plunged head foremost into the -oncoming wall of opponents. Never had a tree been blasted, nor a mountain -exploded more perfectly than was that line torn away. Never had Dynamite -so deserved his nickname. He went through everything to their forty-yard -line. There he was downed by the opponent's safety man. - -"Dave," the Kentucky boy whispered, when next they prepared to line up. -"One minute to go. We--we gotta' have that touchdown. You--you know how. -Don't think of me, Dave. Forget the bullets and shells. It's war, Dave. -Let's go through together." - -Dave set his teeth grimly. "It's a go, Kentucky!" - -And they went through. Throwing all the force of his marvelously -developed body in a line plunge, Dynamite blasted a hole so wide that -both he and Kentucky went through. - -But Naperville had been expecting a forward pass. Her ends and half-backs -were a full twenty yards behind the line. Like a troop of wild bears, -they sprang at the onrushing pair. - -"They must not hit him!" Dynamite was saying to himself. "They must not." -Hurling himself at the first man, he sent him spinning to the right. He -tipped the second to the left. The third he missed altogether. And all -this time the slim Kentucky boy hugged the ball and sped on behind him. -Ten--twenty--thirty yards--for-- - -Dynamite struck something that was like a stone wall. He went down in a -heap. - -But Kentucky, racing like an escaped colt, sped on to the winning -touchdown. - -And then the whistle blew. - -The crowd would have rushed upon the field but officers held them back. -All plays begun before the whistle must be completed. There must be a -trial for the extra point. - -As the players began lining up, they missed Dynamite. Sudden -consternation seized them as they discovered him lying quite senseless on -the field. - -"He's out for good. That full-back smashed him. Take him off the field," -a doctor ordered. - -"Kentucky, you may call the play," the coach said quietly. - -"All right, boys," Kentucky whispered in the huddle, "a line plunge. Make -it a good one." - -"A line--" Rabbit Jones who started to speak, felt a hand over his mouth. - -A line plunge it was, and a good one, but not good enough. The score -stood 13 to 7 and all Hillcrest went wild--all but one, Dynamite. - -They would have picked Kentucky up and carried him on their shoulders, -those Hillcrest fans, but the boy would not have it. "Dynamite," he -shouted. "Save all that for good old Dynamite. He knew it was he or I, -and he--he took it." There were tears in Kentucky's eyes--and the crowd -loved him for it. - -"Kentucky," Coach Dizney dropped in beside the slim boy as the team -marched off the field, "you may ride back to Hillcrest in my car. Your -friend, Jensie Crider, rode over with us." There was a strange, new light -of friendliness in his eye. - -"I--" Kentucky hesitated, "I sort of reckoned maybe I'd ought to see -about Dynamite." - -"Dynamite is all right," was the coach's reply. "He's in good hands. He's -with Doc Owslie. He's a fine, dependable doctor. Besides--" he was -tempted to say more but stopped at this. "The other might not be true." - -"Al--all right," Kentucky agreed. "That will be grand!" - -Johnny Thompson had somehow felt from the beginning that this was to be a -Hillcrest victory. No one in all the world would have given so much to -watch it from the sidelines. This had been impossible. There would be, he -knew right well, a grand and glorious celebration in the old home town -after the game. The team would be back. All their admirers and all the -girls of the school would be there and all the old grads. Were they to -wander from place to place down town? By no means! The old Blue Moon was -the spot for this jollification. And he should be prepared. - -Having bought out an entire bakery, he had rented its ovens. Into these -ovens on great dripping pans, he thrust two legs of beef, five leg o' -lambs, three hams and a half dozen pork loins. - -"We'll have hot sandwiches for all," he said to Aunt Mandy, his colored -cook. "Hot ones for all. And you, Aunt Mandy, all I ask of you is three -hundred little turnover pies, all mince." - -"Lands o' livin', child," Aunt Mandy exclaimed. "Three hundred!" - -"Three hundred." - -"All right, son, three hundred comin' up." And three hundred it was. - -Ah yes, it was a grand and glorious feast Johnny prepared. One thing he -forgot, the big room at the Blue Moon could scarcely accommodate sixty -people standing up. And a mighty horde in trucks, busses, and private -cars, some even on bicycles was pouring toward the Blue Moon at sunset. - -"Kentucky," the coach said with a side-wise glance at the boy as their -car glided toward home, "I gave you a chance at being captain of the -team. In that last play, you could have called for a goal kick. Punch -would have sent it over for that other point. You called for a line-buck. -How come?" - -"Well you see," there was a tremor in Kentucky's voice--he loved the -coach and feared his displeasure more than almost anything in the world, -"you see, coach, I overheard you tell Dynamite he'd played great ball -this season, which he had, and that, if he won that game you'd see that -he got the ball for himself for a keepsake. That--that I thought was -swell. - -"But you see, coach," Kentucky was desperately in earnest now, "you see -there was a big crowd heading for the gate, just back of the goal. If we -tried for a goal, we'd make it all right but the ball would go into the -crowd and then--somebody'd plug a hole in that ball, let out the air and -tuck it under his coat. So-o--" - -"So you passed up your chance to give Dynamite a break." - -"Yes--yes. That's it. It was all right wasn't it, coach? Wasn't it now? -We--we didn't need the point. The game was over and we--we'd won and -everything." - -"Yes, Kentucky." There was a wide smile of approval on the coach's face. -"It was more than all right. It was sporting! Just grand, Kentucky!" - -"I--I'm glad," Kentucky murmured. Kentucky had been worried about -Dynamite but the instant he climbed from the car he spotted him. He was -standing at the edge of the gathering crowd. Grinning a broad grin he -said, "'Lo, Kentucky. Who won the game? - -"It's all right, old Kentuck," he laughed. "I'm not a ghost. It takes -more than a Naperville man to knock me out for keeps. That fellow rammed -his head up under my chin and put me to sleep, that's all. When I woke -up, I felt better than ever. I'd had a good rest." He laughed merrily. - -When Johnny saw the crowd, he called loudly for help. The team responded -to a man. They carried two steaming legs of beef, five leg o' lambs, -three hundred pies and all the rest of the feast to the big gym floor. -There everybody feasted to his heart's content. - -Who was to pay the butcher and baker? In such a jam there was neither -time nor opportunity to collect nickels, dimes, and quarters. Johnny had -been too busy to notice such a trifling detail. It was not, however, -entirely neglected. - -"And now," a big burly grad, wearing a tall paper hat exclaimed, "we -shall proceed to pass the basket." - -Seizing one handle of a huge baker's basket, he invited a pal of other -days to join him, and together they made the rounds. The clink of silver -and the flutter of green paper was heard and seen in every corner of the -broad floor. - -At last, hunting up Johnny, they set the basket before him. The leader -said: - -"With the compliments of an admiring throng to the good scout who -discovered our winner, Old Kentucky." - -Then such a shout as went up from the throng. "Give and it shall be given -unto you," Johnny thought as he tried in vain to swallow a lump in his -throat. - -"Well, Kentucky, old boy," Johnny said as they sat by the big glowing -stove in the Blue Moon sometime later, "the big war is over. All you got -to do now is study and help me here a little. All I got to do is to keep -making this place a success. The old Blue Moon," he murmured these last -words softly. - -"Yes," the slim boy agreed, "that's all, but somehow, Johnny, that makes -me feel like a plumb flat tire." - -"That," said Johnny in an impressive tone, "is just the way I feel." - -Did the old Blue Moon and Hillcrest hold them both? When Johnny sat -dreaming of Panther Eye and his two strange companions of another world, -did he always succeed in dismissing them from his memory? - -Your guess is as good as ours, but if you really want to know you will -have to read that other book _The Seal of Secrecy_. What was the seal and -what the secret? Read and see. - - - - - Transcriber's Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text--this e-text - is public domain in the country of publication. - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - ---In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML - version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Dynamite, by Roy J. 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