Part 24 (1/2)

He pushed that paper aside, and took a fresh one.

”Now, when you come to the hills, you will approach 'em at what we call the Dog's Nose. So named because that's what it looks like. It's a rock that sticks out right about here, and you can't miss it. It looks exactly like a dog's nose, stickin' out and smelling things.

”You want to go right up under that there dog's nose; and when you git there you'll see a hole in the rock that ain't no bigger than the lower half of that window. It's a leetle bit of a hole, and it's as dark as a pocket inside it, too. n.o.body, even if they found the hole, would ever think of going in there. It ain't invitin' to look at.”

”How did you happen to go into it?”

”I didn't. I came out of it. I got lost in that cave for three days once, when I was a boy, and when I found my way out I came out of that hole. n.o.body knows about that entrance but me, though I suppose lots of folks knows it's there.”

”And it communicates with the cave?”

”It does. It'll take you to any part of the cave; and there is only one rule to follow in going through it. You'll want a light, though.”

”I've got the light. What is the rule?”

”Always--no matter where you are in any of them caves, take the way to the right. Never take a gallery to the left, goin' in either or any direction. It's a rule that holds good in them caves. It's a sort of way that nature provided so's you could find your way through there; and I happened to discover what it was.”

”It all sounds very simple and easy.”

”And it is, if you've got the pluck and the sand. But it's a ticklish place. There is a good many places in there that I ain't never explored, and don't want to; and it's safe to bet that the hoboes ain't done it, neither. I reckon, mister, that that's about all I kin show you--hold on, though!”

”What now?”

”Well, there's one place up there which it might be handy for you to know about, and I don't think anybody but me knows about it, either.”

”What is that?”

”Well, you might find occasion to want to hide yourself away while you are in there.”

”That is more than likely, Bill.”

”Well, just arter you pa.s.s through the hole that is under the Dog's Nose, and about twenty rods from there, you'll find a place where there is a bowlder sort of set into the rocks. You won't notice it unless you look for it, but it is there. Under it you'll find a small stone wedged fast. If you pull out that small stone, and then push on the big rock, it'll swing around like it was on a pivot, and you kin step inside the hole it leaves, and close up the door after you. You'll find an interestin' place in there, too, if you ever have occasion to use it, mister; and n.o.body will find you there, either.”

CHAPTER XIII.

BLACK MADGE'S LIEUTENANT.

The detective pa.s.sed the remainder of that day, and much of the night, in old Bill Turner's company, and during that time they talked incessantly about the mountains to which Nick was going, about the caverns in those mountains, and the trails through them; and when the conversation was finished Nick felt that he could find his way without difficulty wherever he cared to go among them.

When he saw that the old man was tired out, he sent him to bed, and himself dropped upon a couch in Turner's living room, where he slept like a top till morning.

Soon after dawn they were both astir; and after they had eaten some breakfast, and Turner had made his usual pilgrimage to the post office, they began again upon the plans and went over them for the last time.

And then came the task of making the changes in their personal appearance. This, to the layman, sounds like no easy task; but to Nick Carter it was merely the practicing of an art of which he was thoroughly a master.

He had brought with him the things necessary to accomplish the changes; and when the old man returned from the village he set to work--first upon himself--for he knew that he must make his own disguise letter perfect if he hoped to deceive such a man as Handsome.

He first made up his face, not with paints, but with stains that would not wash off, to represent the leathery, weather-beaten countenance of the old man; and here he was, perhaps, fortunate in the fact that the profusion of white whiskers worn by the old man rendered his face the easier to copy, and in reality concealed much of it from view.