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Charley paddled on until at last they reached the other side of the
lake and pulled up their boat on the shore close to the hut.
It still wore the same air of desertion. Dick had left the door partly
open and had placed a small pebble on top of it in such a manner
that if the door was touched the stone would be sure to fall.
He seized hold of the door and pulled it open, but no pebble fell.
“There’s been some one here!” he exclaimed. “Look, Charley, the
floor is all tracked over with alkali since we were here.”
“That’s what, Dick. If it was mud, now, we might guess it was your
friend.”
“Ten to one it was Mudd,” replied Dick. “Hello, what’s this?”
In the middle of the long table which occupied the centre of the room
lay a paper upon which some words were written, fastened to the
table by a rusty old bowie knife which had been driven deep into the
wood.
“That’s yours, Dick,” cried Charley. “Don’t you see what it says?”
“For you, Dick Darrell,” were the words scrawled over the paper in
letters at least six inches long.
 CHAPTER XII.
INTO THE BOILING POT.

“That’s Mudd’s work, sure,” exclaimed Dick, and he pulled out the
knife and picked the paper up, turning it over and finding the
following written on the other side:
“Friends or enemies—which?—I swore to kill you. On
certain conditions I am willing to let you live—$100,000—
you understand—but we can’t get together by keeping
apart. Shall I come to you or will you come to me? I shall
be in this hut at midnight and alone and you must come
alone if you want to meet me. It will pay you, Dick Darrell,
and you need fear nothing. If you do not come I shall take
it to mean that I shall come to you. It will be too late to talk
about the $100,000 then, for when I come I come to kill.
Yours any way you like to take me, Mudd.”
“Well!” exclaimed Charley, for Dick had been reading aloud, “that’s a
most remarkable communication. What on earth does it all mean?”
“Rubbish!” cried Dick. “He must think I am a born idiot. Still it shows
the fellow is watching us.”
“I don’t know about that. There may be more in it than you think for.
Are you going to do as he says?”
“Well, I think I see myself,” laughed Dick. “If he wants to come to me
let him try it. I’m ready for him.”
“I wouldn’t do it that way. I’d come to the hut and let me and Doctor
Dan hang around somewhere. If we could once capture Mr. Martin
Mudd his name would be mud for fair and we could find out then
exactly what has become of the girl.”
“Well, I’ll think it over,” said Dick. “Come on now and let’s have a look
at the boiling pot.”
This was the name the boys had given to the point on the lake which
so interested Charley and they now went back into the boat and
paddled along the shore until they came to the place.
The water was now as calm here as elsewhere and showed no signs
of disturbance.
After pulling around a few moments Dick paddled ashore, declaring
that he was going to look up the footprints of the monster and
measure them.
“You don’t need any help, I suppose,” said Charley. “I’ll stay out here.
I want to watch the pot.”
“They say a watched pot never boils,” laughed Dick, “but I’ve no
objections to you trying to prove it. Of course I don’t need any help. It
won’t take me five minutes, anyhow.”
So Dick hurried along the shore, while Charley paddled out on the
lake again. There was no difficulty in finding the impress of the
monster’s huge feet in the sand and Dick got out his rule and was in
the act of measuring them when all at once a shout from Charley
called his attention to the lake.
“She boils, Dick! She boils!” cried Charley.
“Look out!” shouted Dick, running down to the shore. “Don’t go too
near. There may be some suction there.”
“By Jove, there is a big suction,” answered Charley, “and what’s
more I’m right in it now.”
He commenced to paddle furiously and perhaps he thought he was
making some headway, but Dick saw that he was not.
“Jump out, Charley!” he shouted. “Jump and save yourself.”
“I can do it! I can do it!” Charley replied, working the paddle more
vigorously than ever.
Meanwhile the water was boiling furiously—more than it had done at
any time yet.
Dick was terribly alarmed. He was standing now on a point of rocks
directly over the boiling pot and all at once, to his horror, he saw the
boat half double up and go shooting into the middle of this miniature
maelstrom.
“I’m a goner!” yelled Charley, and he tumbled out of the boat.
But he was too late to save himself.
Like a flash the boat disappeared beneath the water.
Charley made a noble effort to save himself, but the suction was too
much for him.
“Oh, Dick!” he cried suddenly, and then threw up his hands and was
gone.
Dick hesitated just one instant—no more.
Without even stopping to throw off his coat he took a header into the
boiling pot, disappearing like a flash.
It seemed a piece of mad folly.
How could he hope to rescue Charley under such circumstances as
these?
But Dick never gave that a thought. He would have jumped in just
the same if he had known that he was jumping to his death.
Down he went—down—down—drawn deeper every second by that
terrible pull.
“I’m a goner,” he thought “I can’t help myself,” and his heart began to
fail him as he was still drawn on and on, deeper into the boiling pot.
 CHAPTER XIII.
THE WONDERFUL CAVERN.

Holding his breath and still being dragged downward by that terrible
suction, Dick Darrell gave himself up for lost.
His only hope was that his previous experience under the lake might
be repeated.
And in a different way this is just what happened. Dick was brought
up with a round turn before he knew it.
Suddenly the suction ceased and he went shooting forward; the next
he knew his head was out of water and he was swimming for all he
was worth down a swiftly flowing stream.
He was now in a mighty cavern and it was comparatively light.
Above him was the roof with immense stalactites hanging down like
great icicles; the wall on his left was covered with the same glittering
white formation; on the right the cave extended off into the distance
further than the eye could reach; on ahead there was no roof, the
cavern being open to the sky for a space of several hundred feet,
which admitted light and air and enabled Dick to take in his
surroundings.
It was a truly wonderful place. Doubtless the opening was at some
inaccessible point far up on the top of the mountain. It was at least a
hundred feet up from the floor of the cavern and nothing without
wings could hope to reach it.
The stream rushed on with tremendous rapidity and Dick, feeling that
he might be swept into a worse place, made all possible haste to get
ashore, something not to be accomplished without difficulty, but at
last he managed it, and, wet to the skin and gasping for breath, he
sank down upon the sand and lay there, scarcely caring whether he
lived or died.
This state of things lasted only for a few moments, however.
Dick’s strength soon returned and he scrambled to his feet and gave
the peculiar shout which had been agreed upon as a signal between
Charley and himself.
There was so answer, although Dick shouted again and again. Still
he did not give up hope now, for it was easy to imagine that Charley
might have been swept on further and still have escaped.
Dick ran on, calling, wild with anxiety, but nevertheless keeping cool,
until at length he came under the opening, where he halted from
sheer exhaustion and again sank down upon the sand.
“This won’t do,” he thought. “I must brace up. I escaped before and I
shall escape again. It’s a wonder that these underground outlets
don’t drain the lake off. I’ve seen two of them now and I believe there
are others. Hello! What’s that on ahead?”
The sun struck down through the big hole in the roof of the cavern
and far in the distance there seemed to be a curious shimmering of
light.
“It’s a lake—that’s what it is—an underground lake, just as Charley
said,” thought Dick. “I’ll make for it, only I must get the water out of
my clothes.”
He hurriedly undressed and wrung his wet clothing out as dry as
possible, dressing himself as soon as he had finished.
“I suppose I shall get my death of cold either way,” he thought “so I
might as well put my clothes on as to leave them off. Now for the
lake. Nothing like a good run to warm a fellow up in a case like this.”
He ran with all his might, coming in a few moments out upon the
shore of a broad sheet of water, which extended off as far as the eye
could penetrate into the darkness.
The cavern was of vast proportions. Dick could see no walls on
either side now, and as the lake cut off further advance, his heart
sank, for how could he hope to escape from this strange place? The
case seemed hopeless, indeed.
As Dick stood there on the shore of the lake wondering what he
ought to do, his attention was suddenly attracted by seeing in the
distance a shadowy form hurrying toward him along the shore.
“Charley! Charley! That you, Charley?” he shouted, starting off on
the run again.
The shadow halted and stood motionless, but there was no
response.
“It’s not Charley,” thought Dick. “If it was he would certainly answer.
Who can it be? By gracious, it’s a woman! Hello, there! Hello! Don’t
be afraid of me! I’ll not do you any harm.”
The shadow had turned and started to run away, but seeming to be
reassured by Dick’s cry, stopped again and now waited for him to
come up.
As Dick drew nearer he almost forgot Charley in the excitement
which came over him as he recognized Clara Eglinton.
“Who is it?” she called out. “What do you want with me? I won’t go
back! No, I won’t!”
“Miss Eglinton! Don’t you know me?” cried Dick.
She recognized him the instant he spoke.
“Oh, Mr. Darrell!” she exclaimed. “What ever brought you here? Oh, I
am so thankful to see you! I—I——”
She paused and burst into a passion of tears.
Dick caught her in his arms and spoke such soothing words as came
first to his tongue.
“I am here to help you,” he said, “although my coming here is only
the result of an accident. Tell me about yourself. What brought you
here and how is it that you are alone?”
“It was that scoundrel Mudd!” replied the girl. “He has held me a
prisoner in this dreadful place since his tools captured me on the
mountain night before last. They have a camp down here, Mr.
Darrell. I’ve been a close prisoner until about an hour ago, when I
managed to get away and—oh, oh! There comes that dreadful noise
again! What is it? Oh, what is it?”
In her excitement she clutched Dick’s arm and begged him to protect
her, and there was nothing strange about her excitement either, for
an awful bellowing was heard off on the lake, echoing and re-
echoing back from the rocky walls of the cavern until the whole
atmosphere reverberated with the frightful sound.
But it did not disturb Dick a bit. He knew very well that it was only the
Plesiosaurus.
This underground lake then had its monster as well as the one
above. Of course, Dick had given up the idea that there was only
one P. D. He knew that there must be many and if Charley had only
been safe with him he would have rejoiced in the discovery.
As it was he hastily explained to Clara what the noise really meant
and as the bellowing continued they stood there looking off on the
lake watching for the Plesiosaurus to appear.
“We may not see it at all,” said Dick. “There! It has stopped. No
doubt it has gone under the water and—oh, Charley! Charley! This
way! Here I am! It’s Dick! Hello! Hello!”
Suddenly Charley’s shout was heard in the distance and Dick lost no
time in answering.
At the same instant there was a rushing sound on the water right in
front of them and the same old monstrous head came up out of the
lake.
Clara screamed and threw her arms about Dick.
Higher and higher the head was thrust up as the neck of the monster
came out of the water.
Then came the frightful bellow once more and the head of the
monster came darting toward them.
Flinging a protecting arm about Clara, Dick drew her hastily back
and they ran for their lives.
 CHAPTER XIV.
LOST UNDERGROUND.

The Plesiosaurus made no attempt to come up out of the water.

Once more it gave its strange cry and Dick, looking around, saw its
huge back come up into view, and, with its long neck arched like a
swan, it sailed away over the lake and was soon lost to view in the
darkness.
Dick and Clara had now stopped running and stood looking off over
the lake watching the strange creature as it sailed away.
“I ought to be ashamed of myself for being so timid, Mr. Darrell,” said
Clara. “But I have had such a dreadful time that my nerves are all
shaken. What is that creature? I didn’t suppose anything like it
existed on earth.”
“And I don’t believe there is such a thing existing anywhere else,”
replied Dick. “I’ll tell you all about it in a few moments. My friend is
coming. I’ve got such a lot to tell you. Do you know I almost wonder
that you remember my name—you only saw me for a moment that
night in Washington.”
“Indeed, I am not likely to forget your bravery then,” replied Clara,
“nor what you tried to do for me on the mountain the other night.”
“Hello, Dick! Hello! Hello! Where are you?” Charley’s welcome voice
was heard shouting, although as yet he had not appeared.
Dick had paused several times in his conversation to give Charley
the call and he now did so again.
In a moment they caught sight of a shadow coming along the shore
of the lake and soon Charley, with his clothes as badly saturated as
Dick’s, came hurrying up.
It was a joyful meeting and the next ten minutes were devoted to
explanations and telling their respective stories.
Charley’s experience had been just the same as Dick’s, except that
he was swept into the lake and had a hard job getting ashore, as he
had become greatly exhausted.
“Lucky old P. D. didn’t rise near me or I should have been a goner,”
he said. “Strange you didn’t hear me holler, Dick. I kept it up all the
time.”
“So did I,” replied Dick, “but we must have been a long way apart at
the beginning. Now, Charley, what is to be done? Here we three are
in this hole and the thing is to get out as quick as ever we can, but
for the life of me I don’t see how we are going to do it without running
into Mudd and his gang.”
Clara had explained her situation fully by this time. It appeared that
she had been on her way to the mine her father owned in the
neighborhood of the Black Hills, the man Bill Struthers having been
sent down to the railroad to meet her and guide her through the Bad
Lands to the mine.
Mudd, she declared, was a man whom her father had used in his
business, but had to discharge on account of dishonesty. “He’s a
thorough scoundrel,” Clara went on to say; “he swore to be avenged
on father and this is the way he has taken to do it. He brought me
here and sent Bill in to tell father that the horse ran away with me
and was lost. They expect father will offer a big reward to the man
who finds me and I know they mean to trump up a story about my
being captured by Indians and held for ransom. When they have got
all the money they can out of father I suppose they mean to let me
go.”
They kept on talking thus until Dick called a halt by making the
remark quoted above.
“I’m blest if I see how we are going to get out,” said Charley. “We
can’t go back up through the boiling pot, that’s certain. Perhaps Miss
Eglinton will tell us how she was brought down into the cave.”
“Oh, I thought I told you about that!” exclaimed Clara.
“You certainly didn’t,” answered Dick “I’ve been waiting for a chance
to ask you.”
“It’s easily explained, but, see here, boys, as we have been thrown
together in this strange way we want to be as good friends as
possible. I’m Clara to all my friends and that’s what you must call
me.”
“I agree to that, providing you return the compliment,” replied Dick.
“Now, don’t you worry. We are going to get out of this trouble and
you are going back to camp with us. Our guide, Doctor Dan, knows
every inch of the Bad Lands and we will start for your father’s mine
at once and won’t leave you until you are safe in his hands.”
Clara was very grateful and she went on to tell how, after her
capture, Mudd had blindfolded her for a few moments, halting for
that purpose in a rocky glen, as she called it.
In this condition she had been led down some steps and when the
handkerchief was removed from her eyes she found herself
underground, being hurried along a narrow passage, which finally
led them into the cave, where later the man Tony came, bringing the
horses, which seemed to have come down by another way.
Later all three of the men rode off and were gone some time, but
Mudd and Tony soon came riding back again. Since then they had
been coming and going, Clara herself being kept a close prisoner
until this morning, when she managed to slip the cords off her hands,
and, as none of the three were in the camp at the time, she made
her escape and had wandered about the cavern until she met Dick.
“What we have got to do, then,” said Dick, “is to get back to that
camp and see what we can find out about these different ways in
and out of the cave. I wouldn’t wonder a bit, Charley, if Doctor Dan
was right after all and that horse did lead us to the very spot where
Clara was blindfolded. It was just such a place as she describes.”
“Must we go back there,” said Clara. “I’d rather do almost anything
else. You can’t imagine how I dread being captured by those men
again and you know what Mudd has been to you, Dick.”
“I don’t, but I wish I did,” replied Dick. “I can’t make the man out at
all. In one breath he threatens to kill me and in the next he is talking
about making me a millionaire. I believe he’s crazy, if you want to
know really what I think.”
It seemed entirely necessary to go back to the camp, however, so
Clara undertook to guide them to the place.
From the first Dick felt his doubts about her being able to do it, for
she turned away from the lake after they had advanced along the
shore for a short distance and soon they were in a part of the cavern
where it was so dark that they could scarcely see a foot ahead of
them.
For an hour or more they wandered about.
For a long time Clara had been very silent, only speaking when one
of the boys directly addressed her.
At length she stopped short, exclaiming:
“It is no use, boys. I can’t find the place. We are lost here
underground!”
 CHAPTER XV.
MR. MUDD TURNS UP AGAIN.

“Now, that’s all right!” exclaimed Dick. “Until you were ready to give
up, Clara, I didn’t want to say a word, but I think I can pilot the way to
the camp.”
“How, when you have never been there?” asked Clara. “Oh, I feel so
ashamed of myself. I thought I could lead you straight back to it.
Don’t be angry with me, Dick.”
“As though I could be,” exclaimed Dick. “You have done your best
and now if you give it up let me have my try.”
“What do you mean to do?” asked Charley. “Upon my word, I’m all
turned around myself.”
“I’ll show you,” replied Dick. “First we want to get back where we
started out. It’s easy enough to do that.”
“I couldn’t do it,” said Clara. “I’ll own up that’s what I’ve been trying to
do for the last half hour, but I just seemed to lead you round and
round in a circle.”
“I’ll fix it,” said Dick, confidently. “Come this way.”
He started off in directly the opposite direction to that which they had
been following.
“Oh, I see!” cried Clara. “I understand now. You are going toward the
light.”
“Exactly,” replied Dick. “The light comes down through that hole in
the roof and the underground river and the lake are right there and
that’s where we have got to look for the trail.”
“I saw no trail,” said Charley. “I looked for that when we started out.”
“It’s there and we’ll find it. Doctor Dan has given me some good
pointers on trails. Trust an Indian for that. He’ll find a footprint where
a white man could see nothing. We shall soon be back at the lake
and then I’ll show you how well I’ve learned my lesson.”
In a short time Dick brought up at the lake and soon found the spot
where he had encountered Clara.
“Now there you are!” he exclaimed, after bending down and
examining the sand, which was pretty hard to be sure, but still the
faint imprint of Clara’s footsteps could be seen.
“I’m afraid if you expect to follow my course you will have a hard time
of it,” said Clara. “I was wandering about a long time before I met
you, Dick.”
“I’m not going to,” replied Dick. “I think I can do it without the trail. Tell
me, was this camp against the wall of the cave?”
“There were big rocks right back of where we were, if that is what
you mean,” replied Clara.
“That’s it. How about the lake?”
“Oh, I saw nothing of the lake until I had been walking around for
some time.”
“Would you know the place when you first struck it?”
“I think I should. There was a black rock sticking up out of the water.”
“Very good! Then we’ll go to the black rock. That’s easy found.”
“I thought that I could strike right over to the place,” remarked Clara,
as they walked along. “I never had the faintest idea that I was going
to get lost.”
“We’ll strike off from the black rock,” said Dick. “When we were
following you we kept going around in a circle, but I think I can strike
a straight line to the wall; after that it will be dead easy, for all we
have got to do is to follow the wall around.”
They soon reached the black rock and Dick again showed them the
trail.
Still he did not attempt to follow it, but started off rapidly in the
direction which he considered the wall ought to be, and hit it so
accurately that within ten minutes they came up against the rocks.
“Why, you are a splendid guide!” exclaimed Clara. “Now, what is to
be done?”
“Which way do you think the camp lies?” asked Dick.
Clara pointed to the left and Dick promptly started off to the right.
“I suppose you wonder what I’m doing this for?” he said, “but I
happen to know that you are wrong.”
“I’m sure I’m right,” said Clara. “How can you know that I am not?”
“Listen!” replied Dick.
“I hear something like the pawing of a horse,” said Charley.
“That’s exactly it. I heard the sound before we came to the wall. It’s
the camp, of course, and what’s more, Martin Mudd or one of his
men has returned.”
“For mercy’s sake, don’t expose yourself, Dick,” said Clara. “Tell me
what your plan is. I hate to even think of what might happen if you
fell into the hands of Mudd.”
“Then don’t think of it, for he is already in the hands of Mudd!” spoke
a sneering voice right ahead of them.
Clara screamed and Dick and Charley hastily drew their revolvers,
for at the same instant two men armed with rifles sprang out from
behind a turn in the rocks, and the foremost man was Mudd.
 CHAPTER XVI.
MARTIN MUDD MAKES A SERIOUS CHARGE.

“Throw up nothing!” shouted Dick Darrell when Martin Mudd called

out, “Throw up your hands!” and he rushed forward, firing two shots
as he went.
This rather took Mudd & Co. by surprise, as they had not expected
anything of the sort.
One of the shots went through Mudd’s rusty “tile,” knocking it off his
head.
“Oh, I’m shot! I’m shot!” he yelled. “Spare my life, boys!”
Down he fell all in a heap.
Tony had fired one shot, but, seeing Charley rush up to help Dick,
letting fly with his revolver as he came, the valiant Tony took to his
heels and sprinted off into the depths of the cavern.
Dick lost no time in making Mudd a prisoner.
Clara and Charley lent a hand and with a stout cord, which the latter
happened to have in his pocket, they tied the fellow’s hands behind
him.
While this was going on Mudd kept up a dreadful racket, calling out
in one breath that he was shot and the next begging the boys not to
shoot him.
He made so much noise about it that Dick unfeelingly suggested that
he was not shot at all and told him he had better hold his tongue.
“Yes I am, too,” growled Mudd. “I know I am. This is a nice way to
treat a man who has been deserted by his friend. Miss Clara, you
might plead my cause, I think. I was always a good friend of your
father’s, as you know very well.”
“What impudence!” exclaimed Clara. “After the way you have used
me, too!”
“Don’t see it in that light at all,” returned Mudd. “I haven’t ill used you.
Your father owes me money that I can’t collect. I simply detained you
until I could collect it—that’s all.”
“If you don’t stop your noise, mister, I’ll put a gag in your mouth!”
cried Dick. “Just stand still, will you, and I’ll soon see where you are
hurt. Charley, pick up his hat. Clara, hold the lantern. We will
straighten this thing out right now.”
It was Mudd’s own lantern, which he dropped when he fell. Clara had
picked it up and lighted it again and Dick now made a careful
examination of the man, but could find no wound.
“You are not hurt at all,” declared Dick.
“One shot went through his hat,” said Charley.
“It’s a pity it didn’t go through his head,” added Dick. “Now, then, Mr.
Mudd, seeing that you know the way out of this place I’ll thank you to
show it to us, and be quick about it, do you understand?”
Mudd began to snuffle.
“I’ll do it,” he drawled. “I do it under protest, because I have to do it.
I’m a man of very sensitive feelings and I don’t like to be talked
rough to like that. I’m like the devil. I’m not as black as I’m painted.
I’ve acted in your interest, Dick Darrell, right along.”
“So you say,” replied Dick. “I suppose, of course, you were acting for
my interest when you tried to stick a knife into my back in the streets
of Washington. Oh, you’re a bird, you are! Travel on and show us the
way out of here and hold your tongue or I’ll make you—that’s all!”
Mudd seemed thoroughly cowed. With his hands tied behind him he
shuffled on through the cavern.
Dick noticed that he kept in a direct line with the lake and seemed to
know just where he was going, which, indeed, proved to be the case,
for in a few moments he paused beside what seemed to be a flight of
stone steps.
“There’s the way out,” he growled.
“Why, these are regular stairs!” exclaimed Dick.
“It’s right,” said Clara. “I was brought down this way.”
“Of course it’s right,” growled Mudd. “If I may be allowed to speak
now, I would like to say that these steps constitute a most important
archæological discovery and one which should be communicated to
the Smithsonian Institute. Yours truly, Martin Mudd, is the discoverer,
so please mention his name in your report. You might call them the
Mudd stairs, only that would be rather a misnomer, seeing that they
are made of stone.”
“Upon my word, you are the windiest beggar I ever came across,”
said Dick. “Who built these stairs, anyway?”
“There you go hurting my feelings again, and without the slightest
reason,” retorted Mudd. “To the best of my knowledge and belief they
were built by some prehistoric tribe of Indians like the cliff dwellers of
the Colorado canyon. Don’t forget to mention my name when you
make your report.”
“Oh, I’ll mention your name in my report fast enough—don’t you fret,”
replied Dick. “Lead on, Clara. If these steps will take us out of this
hole we don’t want to lose any time.”
“There’s a big stone to lift at the top of the flight,” said Mudd. “If you
will untie my hands I’ll show you how to work it. You needn’t be afraid
that I’ll run away.”
But Dick would have none of his assistance, and, as it proved, it was
not needed, for he was easily able to lift the stone himself.
It seemed to move on two dowels set in sockets cut in the ledge; a
very clever piece of work, which Dick determined to study into later
on.
When they came up into the open air our little party found
themselves at the very point where the horse had stopped, proving
Doctor Dan to have been entirely right in his conclusions.
They were now free, but with the boat gone it seemed rather a
discouraging situation, for night would soon be upon them and to
take the long walk through the canyon and down the mountain and
then up again on the other trail was not to be thought of at all.
“Mr. Mudd,” said Dick, turning to their prisoner, “you left a note for me
in that hut over there by the lake?”
“Ah! So you found it, did you?” replied Mudd. “Well?”
“You asked me to meet you there alone at midnight and promised
some important disclosures. You will have an opportunity to make
them in the hut very soon, for I’m going to take you there now.”
“You may take me there if you wish, same as you can take a horse to
water,” growled Mudd.
“By which I suppose you mean that I shall have the same trouble
making you talk against your will that I would in making the horse
drink unless he chose—is that it?”
“That is it exactly. Same time, young feller, I’m willing to talk if I’m
paid.”
“I told you what I’d do,” said Dick. “You put a million dollars in my
hands and I’ll give you a hundred thousand.”
“Will you give it to me in writing?” asked Mudd, quickly.
“Yes, I will.”
“Good enough! Come on to the hut. This is no joke, Dick Darrell. You
have been wronged out of a large fortune and I know it. I could name
the man who did it if I chose and I have a great mind to do it, too.”
As he spoke Martin Mudd shot a malignant look at Clara, which Dick
did not at all understand just then.
“Name him,” he said. “Speak out. I mean business; show that you
do, too.”
They were walking along through the canyon at the time and Mudd
kept on for some moments in silence.
Suddenly he looked up, exclaiming:
“Well, I will name him. He is Colonel Tom Eglinton, the father of that
girl!”