Part 13 (1/2)
The boys walked to the rim and looked down at the jumble of ice-coated crags which jutted out, hiding the sheer wall below. Biff s.h.i.+vered. ”One slip and goodbye, Charlie!”
”Maybe we'd better forget about it,” Chet said hopefully.
”No,” Frank answered. ”If Johnny Jefferson can get down there, so can we. But we need our climbing boots and flashlights.”
”I'll go back and get them,” Chet volunteered quickly, and started towards the cabin.
”Hurry!” Frank called after him. ”It'll be dark soon.”
”It's dark in here already,” Chet muttered as he entered the woods. He ploughed along the trail the boys had made earlier, wis.h.i.+ng he had not come alone. The white woods was eerie and the pines moaned and tossed in the wind, showering him with snow.
Once Chet put up an arm to protect his face and stumbled off the trail into a clump of brush. He fought clear, found the path again, and went on.
Suddenly the wind stopped. Startled by the silence, Chet paused.
Why did he feel he was not alone?
As he stood, breathing heavily, he heard a low moan behind him. It rose into a weird cry and trailed off into silence.
Chet's lips opened and closed, but he made no sound. With effort he forced himself to look back. Was there something tall and white standing against a snowy bush? As he strained to see, the thing vanished among the trees. With a hoa.r.s.e cry Chet plunged down the trail and did not stop until he was in the cabin. Gasping, he locked the door and leaned against it.
”Can't be sure I saw anything,” he had to admit, a little ashamed. ”But I heard that weird cry, I know.”
The thought of his companions waiting on the cold cliff top forced Chet to gather up the boots and flashlights and go out again. By the time he came to the end of the woods, he was red-faced from running.
”Over here!” Frank called, and Chet hastened along the cliff top to where his friends were waiting.
”Fellows,” he burst out, ”there's another ghost here! I saw it in the woods!”
Joe grinned and took the equipment from his plump friend. ”Great joke, Chet, but we've heard it before.”
”I'm not kidding! It gave a terrible-”
”We've no time to waste,” Frank broke in, hanging a flashlight on his belt. ”Get your gear on.” Grumbling, Chet obeyed.
”We think this is the best place to start down,” Frank told him.
He walked to a crevice in the cliff edge about six feet deep, and lowered himself to the bottom. From there he stepped on to a flat icy ledge, digging in hard. Beyond it stood another jutting stone. Frank moved ahead, and, one by one, the others followed him on rough footholds across the cliff: Occasionally they stopped and examined the rocky wall for an opening, but saw none. Once Chet glanced towards the inlet and froze at the sight of the drop.
”Don't look down!” Joe shouted.
Frank, making his way along a ledge, stopped to look back at his companions. Just behind him was a narrow opening between the cliff and a slab of rock which angled out from it. About twenty feet above, Frank could see the circle of stones.
”This may be the cave!” he thought, and signalled to the others.
As they stood in a line on the ledge, he indicated the opening and gestured for silence. Then Frank led the way into a dark pa.s.sage which opened into a rock chamber, dimly lit by a pile of glowing embers.
”n.o.body here!” exclaimed Joe, his voice sounding hollow.
Against one wall was a stack of cans, food boxes; and pots. Nearby lay a sleeping bag, a box of tumbled clothes, and an unlit paraffin lamp.
”This is the hideout, all right,” Frank said. ”We'll settle down and wait for Johnny.”
”It might take a long time,” Biff remarked.
”I doubt it,” said Frank. ”With a storm coming up he's probably heading for here right now.”
For a while the boys sat in silence, then suddenly they tensed. A footstep in the pa.s.sage!
As they scrambled to their feet, Biff stumbled over the lantern. It turned over and clattered across the stone floor. Instantly the footsteps in the pa.s.sage stopped, then hurried away.
”After him!” Frank cried out. ”Johnny!” he called. ”Come back! We're friends!”
As the boys emerged from the pa.s.sage they were met by roaring wind and swirling snow. Frank shouted again, but the words were lost. Daylight was nearly gone. The boys peered back across the cliff, but there was no sign of anyone.
Anxiously the Hardys looked upwards. Had the boy tried to climb to the crags above the cave mouth?
”No one there!” said Joe.
”Don't see him here or anywhere!” shouted Biff.
With sinking hearts the four looked around the cliff, each with the same unspoken fear.
Chet suggested, ”Maybe he's hiding behind a rock.”
”Let's hope so,” Frank thought grimly, then said aloud, ”No one could survive a storm on this cliff. If Johnny's hurt or hiding, we must find him.”
It was decided that Joe and Biff would examine the cliff from above. Frank and Chet clambered down towards the ledge. Now and then they stopped and shouted, and looked for a figure among the crags.
But Johnny was not in sight nor did he reply.
When they reached the jutting rocks at the ledge, the boys lay down and peered over the edge. With a gasp Frank pointed. Something white lay among the jagged rocks at the base of the cliff.
”A wreck!” Chet said. ”An ice-yacht!”
”And there's somebody in it!” exclaimed Frank.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Crash ”SOMEBODY's hurt!” said Frank. ”Come on! Let's get Joe and Biff.”
He and Chet climbed to the top of the cliff, where their companions were waiting.
”Any sign of Johnny?” Joe asked anxiously.
Frank shook his head and breathlessly told about the wrecked ice-yacht.