The Call of the Beaver Patrol | Page 5

shaft. The experience was a novel one to them. The dark walls of
the passage, the echoes which came from the counter gangways, the
monotonous dripping of water as it seeped through seams and crevices

in the rock, all gave a weird and uncanny expression to the place.
After walking for some distance the boys came to a level which showed
several inches of water.
"We can't wade through that!" Tommy declared.
"Well," Sandy suggested, "if we go back a little ways, we can follow a
cross heading and get into the mine by another way."
The boys followed this plan, and, after winding about several
half-loaded cars which had been left on the tramway, found themselves
in a large chamber from which numerous benches were cut.
"Where does all this gas come from?" asked Tommy stopping short and
putting a hand to his nose.
"There must be a blower somewhere," Sandy explained.
"What's a blower?" demanded Tommy. "What does it look like, and
does it always smell like this?"
"It doesn't look like anything!" replied Sandy. "It's composed of natural
gas, and they call it a blower because it blows up out of crevices in the
coal and in the rocks."
"If I should light a match, would it set it on fire?" asked Tommy.
"I wouldn't like to have you try it!"
The boys continued on their way for some moments, and then Tommy
stopped and extinguished his light, whispering to Sandy to do the same.
"What's that for?" demanded the latter.
"Didn't you hear that noise behind the cribbing?" asked Tommy.
"Rats, probably!"

"Rats nothing!" replied Tommy. "Rats don't make sounds like people
whispering, do they? Keep still a minute, and we'll find out what it is!"
"You'll be seeing a light next!" Sandy suggested.
"I see it now!" answered Tommy.
Sandy saw it, too, in a moment. It seemed at first to be floating in the
air at the very top of the gangway. It moved from side to side, and
finally dropped down nearer to the floor. There seemed to be no one
near it or under it. Its small circle of illumination showed only the
empty air.
"What do you make of it?" asked Tommy.
"Is this Tunnel Six?" asked his chum.
"I don't know! If it is, we've seen the light the caretaker referred to.
We'll have a great story to tell in the morning!"
The boys stood in the darkness of the gangway watching the light for
what seemed to them to be a long time. Now the light advanced toward
them, now it receded. Now it lifted to the roof of the gangway, now it
dropped almost to the floor.
At intervals, the noises behind the cribbing to which Tommy had
referred were repeated, and the boys at last moved over so as to stand
with their ears almost against the wooden walls.
"There is some one behind the cribbing, all right!" Tommy declared. "I
hear some one breathing."
"Aw, keep still!" whispered Sandy. "If there is anyone there, you'll
frighten them away! I thought I heard some one myself!"
"I'll tell you what I think," Tommy suggested in a moment, "and that is
that either Will and George, or both of them, beat us to this gangway.
They are hiding behind there on purpose to give us a scare."

"That's a dream!" replied Sandy. "We left them both asleep."
"Dream, is it?" repeated Tommy scornfully. "You just listen to the
sound that comes from behind this cribbing, and tell me what you make
of it!"
Both boys listened intently for a moment, and then Sandy switched on
his light and moved swiftly along the cribbing as if in search of an
opening. Tommy gazed at him in astonishment.
"You've gone and done it now!" he said.
"There's some one in here all right!" Sandy explained. "Did you hear
the call of the pack a minute ago? There are Boy Scouts in there, and
what we hear are the signals of the Wolf Patrol."
"That's right!" cried Tommy excitedly. "That's right!"
CHAPTER III
WHO CUT THE STRING?
"Do you suppose he would understand the call of the Beaver Patrol?"
asked Sandy. "I'm going to try him, anyway!"
The boy brought his hands together in imitation of the slap of a beaver's
tail on the water, and listened for some reply.
"He'll understand that if he's up on Boy Scout literature," suggested
Sandy. "He ought to be wise to the signs of the different patrols if he's a
good Boy Scout."
There was a short silence, broken only by the constant drip of the water
in an adjoining chamber, and then the call of the pack came again,
clearly, sharply and apparently only a short distance away.
"What did Mr. Canfield call those two boys