Part 45 (2/2)

”Yes, and a whole lot of tickets and other stuff,” Paul said.

”My auto?” asked Cora.

”Yes, we have it back for you,” answered Walter. ”And before we lose any more time we had better get the police after those three men.”

”I'll go into town,” offered Mr. Floyd. ”And about him?” he nodded to the man the counterfeiters had called Jason.

”Oh, I'll give myself up,” the old man said. ”Old Jason is tired of the game. Lock me up whenever you wish,” he seemed very tired and weary. ”I won't run away. I'll stay with Bombee.”

A little later the authorities took charge of matters, entering the cave and taking possession of a very complete though small printing plant, and numberless bogus tickets. Constables were sent to look for the three men. The old man was arrested and taken to jail, and Bombee, his son, who would not be separated from him, went with him. But before Jason was taken away, he told enough to make the mystery clear.

He was an expert printer, it seemed, and had fallen in with a band of men who planned to flood the country with bogus railroad and theatrical tickets. They had set up their plant in the cave, the existence of which they had learned by accident and kept secret.

There were three entrances to the cave. One was in the side of the hill, where the men had put up a shack in order to conceal the opening. The second was the one discovered by accident by Cora. This was not used, being too small. And the third was through the bungalow and the pa.s.sage.

This pa.s.sage, the secret sliding door in the floor, and the cement door that blocked the pa.s.sage (it developed later) had been constructed by the actor who formerly owned the bungalow. Just what his object was no one knew, but his unbalanced mind probably built a romance about the great dark hole. The cave was then used for nothing, but it admirably suited the purposes of the ticket men who fitted it up as they wished.

To it they brought their machinery and began issuing tickets, Jason, aided by the half-witted Bombee, doing the printing, while the others distributed the product. It was the rumble and clank of the gasoline engine and presses that made the queer trembling sounds heard by the girls and boys. The rocky cave acted as a sort of telephone, or sound box, and sometimes the noises would be louder than others. The fact that the engine stood on a strata of rock upon which the bungalow was constructed accounted for the trembling and vibration of the building.

”We did the printing when you folks were away from the bungalow at most times,” said old Jason. ”We found out when you were gone by means of the secret pa.s.sage. But sometimes we had to work on a rush order when you were on hand.”

”Then is when we heard the noise,” said Jack.

”But who upset the furniture, and took our things?” asked Cora.

”Oh, that was Bombee,” said the old man. ”I could not always watch him, and he would slip away, open the secret door of the pa.s.sage and get up into the bungalow through the floor. He is very mischievous, but gentle.

He likes to upset chairs and tables. He used to do that trick, among others, in a theatre where he used to show as a human ape. He didn't look unlike an ape, you see.”

”He took your ribbons and things, too. They are in the cave. I thought they came from your bungalow, but I did not dare return them. Once he brought in a flashlight.”

”That was the time we saw the queer, dancing beams upstairs and down,”

said Hazel.

Before our friends had occupied the bungalow, Bombee had been up to his tricks. He had upset the furniture, giving rise to the strange stories about Camp Surprise, and he it was who had taken the silver, having a love of bright things. He would slip out of the cave, open the pa.s.sage door (having seen Jason operate the mechanism), get into the bungalow by means of the opening in the floor, upset the furniture and then run out through the pa.s.sage again, closing the doors after him, so there was nothing to show how any intruder had gotten in and out.

It was learned that the time the boys and girls saw the two men at the tumbled-down old house, that the counterfeiters had gone there to meet some persons to whom they gave bogus tickets to dispose of. The men probably realized that our friends were on their trail and fled. The taking of Cora's car had been done on the spur of the moment, the need of some means of getting quickly about the country to dispose of the tickets being pressing.

The crash heard in the night, which caused the floor to be taken up, was caused by one of the men dropping a box of tickets. He was storing it in the pa.s.sage near the secret door. Occasionally, when the bungalow was not occupied, the men used it, and it was in this way that the big, half-witted youth learned to find his way there.

”Well, I guess that ends the surprises of this camp,” said Cora, as the officers took Jason away. ”Now we can enjoy our stay here.”

And the surprises were indeed over. The secret door in the floor was closed, and fastened, the mechanism having been broken. After the printing apparatus had been taken out our boys and girls, and many others inspected the cave. It was a large and curious place, and the criminals had made it their living and hiding place for some time.

Though a diligent effort was made to capture the three men, they were not apprehended, and in view of his confession Jason was given only a light sentence.

Cora's recovered car was put in good order and used some, though the mountain roads were not very good for automobile riding.

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