Chapter XIV: A Call for Help

"Oh! what shall we do, Nick?" cried Peg.

His voice was now quivering with fear. Evidently whatever little courage the fellow possessed, or the grit which had caused him to start upon this mission of attempting to discover the cause of the mystery connected with Thunder Mountain, had suddenly disappeared.

"Nawthin' 'cept stick it out, I reckons," replied Nick Jennings.

The superstitious cowboy was more or less anxious, himself. Frank, eagerly listening, could tell this from the way in which the fellow spoke. But Nick did not mean to fall into a panic. To try and rush down the precipitous side of that mountain in the dark would be madness. And with all his faults Nick was at least smart enough to understand what it meant by "jumping from the frying pan into the fire."

Another roar, louder than any that had yet broken forth, interrupted the excited conversation between the son of the mining millionaire and his guide. The whole mountain quivered. Bob himself was much impressed, and began to wonder more than ever what it could mean.

The noise died away, just as thunder generally does, growing fainter, until silence once more brooded over that wonderful mountain. Then again the two crouching lads caught the complaining voice of Peg. Bully that he was under ordinary conditions, he now showed his true colors. That awful sound, coming from the heart of the rocky mountain, as it seemed, had terrified Peg.

But Frank was not surprised, for he had all along believed that a fellow who could lift his hand to strike a small girl must be a coward at heart, no matter how much he might bluster and brag.

"This is terrible, Nick!" exclaimed Peg. "Can't you think of some way we might get out of this? Oh! I'd give a thousand dollars right now if only I was safe down on the plains again! What a fool I was to come here!"

"Well," drawled Nick, possibly with a touch of real envy in his voice, "I'd like right smart to 'arn that thousand, sure I would, Peg. But hang me if I kin see how it's agoin' to be done. We can't slide down; walkin's a risky business, and likely to take hours; an' right now I don't feel any wings asproutin' out of my shoulders, even if you do."

"Oh stop joking, Nick, and talk sense," complained Peg. "We've just got to do something. Why, the old mountain might take a notion to slide, and carry us along with it."

"I sure hopes not, at least right now," replied Nick, uneasily. "But I do reckons as how we're agoin' to git that storm afore mornin'."

"But see here, Nick," Peg went on, anxiously; "didn't you notice anything when you were leading me up here like a lamb to the slaughter? I mean, you ought to have seen whether this side of the old mountain was more likely to drop off than any other."

"Ye never kin tell nawthin' about such things," returned the cowboy. "Reckons all we kin do is to root around, an' see if we might find some sorter cave, where we'd be safe from the rain, if so be she comes arter a while."

"A cave!" echoed the other, as though startled. "What under the sun do we want to get inside the mountain for? Don't you understand that all that noise is coming _out_ of this old thing? I tell you, I believe it is a volcano, just as they told me, and perhaps she's going to break loose this very night!"

"Hey! what ye a sayin' that for?" demanded Nick. "Supposin' she is what ye tell, that ain't any reason the explosion's got to come this particular night, is it? She's kept on a growling for a hundred year now, an' nawthin's happened. Reckons it ain't agoin' to come off jest acause we pilgrims happens to be up here."

"But you said we ought to find a cave, and go in, Nick," continued the youth. "Suppose we do, and the sulphur fumes suffocate us? They must be just awful inside the mountain. This is a nice pickle for me to get into! If I stay out here I'm in danger of being drowned, or swept away by a landslide; if I go inside there's all the chance in the world that I'll be soaking in poisonous sulphur gas till I keel over. I'm up against it good and hard."

"We're all in the same boat, remember, Peg," declared the cowboy.

"But you knew more about this thing than I did, Nick. Why'd you let me come? It was all a fool business, and you're most to blame," protested Peg.

"Aw! let up on that kind of talk, will ye?" growled the cowboy, who was himself losing his respect for his employer, owing to the presence of those things which he did not understand, and the nearness of which aroused his own fears.

"I will, Nick; only get me out of this hole safe and sound, and I give you my word I'll pay you that thousand dollars. But where do you suppose Joe can be all this time? Has he run away, or dropped over into one of those pits we saw on the way up here? I wish he'd show up. Three would be better than two; and perhaps Joe might have a plan for us to get out of this."

Again did the low grumbling sound begin again, and silenced the conversation between Peg Grant and his cowboy guide, every word of which had come distinctly to the ears of the crouching saddle boys near by.

The rumble grew rapidly in volume, until once more the whole great mountain seemed to tremble. Bob was shivering partly from the excitement, and because he felt a touch of alarm.

But he could not help noticing the actions of his chum. When the thunderous roar was about at its height Frank had thrown himself flat on the ground. Bob could not see what he was doing, but his groping hand came in contact with the head of his comrade; and he discovered that it rested on the ground, with one ear pressed to the rock.

Frank was listening!

He knew how the ground carried sounds more distinctly than the air, and evidently he hoped to discover something concerning the thunder by this method of wireless telegraphy.

Then, as the volume of sound gradually decreased, just as a lion's roar dies away, Bob discovered that Peg and Nick were undoubtedly moving off. He supposed that Nick had made up his mind to hunt for an outcropping ledge, or some friendly opening, where he could be sheltered from the storm; and as Peg dared not stay alone, he was compelled to accompany his guide. The complaining voice of the rich man's son could be heard for a minute or so. Then even that ceased.

"They're gone, Frank!" exclaimed Bob.

"Yes, I know it," replied the other, as he arose from his position flat on the rocks. "And Peg is badly rattled, too. Say, I always told you he lacked real grit, and this proves it. He's scared at that noise. Think of him wanting to fly down to the plain! I reckon he's had about all of the exploring he wants. It's 'take me back to my daddy!' now with Peg."

"Well," remarked Bob, with a sigh, "I don't blame him so very much, Frank. I tell you what, that noise is enough to give anybody fits. I'm all of a tremble myself, and I'm honest enough to admit it."

"That's all right, Bob," replied his chum, quickly; "but are you ready to give the game up here and now?"

"Who, me?" answered the Kentucky boy, instantly; "well, I should say not--not by a long sight! No matter what comes, I'm ready to stick it out on this line if it takes all summer!"

"Just what I thought," chuckled Frank. "That's what makes all the difference between a brave fellow and a coward. Why, to tell you the truth, Bob, I'm shaking all over right now myself; but it isn't with fear. I'm excited, curious, and worked up; so are you. When you say you don't want to back out it tells the story that you're not afraid."

"But it wouldn't make any difference, Frank, seeing that we couldn't get away from here, even if we wanted to just now," remarked Bob.

"That's so," returned his chum; "just as Nick said; we're here, and we've just got to stick it out, no matter what comes."

"But do you take any stock in what Peg said about an avalanche?" asked Bob.

"Mighty little," Frank replied. "This mountain is made up mostly of solid rock. That's what makes lots of people believe in the volcano idea. A slide would be hard to start here, and it just couldn't carry much along with It. Where mountains have sides made up of earth and loose rocks, that happens sometimes."

"I'm glad to hear that," remarked the other. "But there comes another shake. Whew! feel how she trembles, Frank! Whatever sort of power can it be that makes this noise and shivering sensation?"

Frank waited until the convulsion had passed before replying.

"I've got a strong suspicion, Bob," He said, finally; "and it's something that came into my mind since _feeling_ the sound, for that's the only way I can express it. Now, what does it make you think of, most of all?"

"I did think it was thunder," declared Bob; "but now it seems to me the only thing I can compare it to is the beating of the terrible billows against the coast away up in Maine, when a fierce northeast storm is blowing. They seemed to make the rocks quiver just as this does now."

If Frank had intended to reply to this remark he was prevented by something unexpected that happened just then. This time it was not the furious roar of the unknown force within the mountain that disturbed him; but a cry that rang out shrilly.

"Help! Help!"

Bob clutched his companion's arm.

"Something has happened to Peg!" he exclaimed. "Perhaps the guide has thrown him over, and he's lost, and scared nearly to death!"

But Frank was more accustomed to reading voices in the open than was his chum.

"No, you're wrong there!" he cried, "that's Spanish Joe yelping; and he must be in a bad hole to call for his companions. Come on, Bob, we've just got to see what we can do to help him. Rascal that he is, he's human. Follow me!"