The Milwaukee Leader

THE ABANDONED MINE
The Adventures of Two Boys Who Try to Solve a Kidnapping Mystery
By W. BOYCE MORGAN

SYNOPSIS
Ted Holmes and Bill Watson have an idea that they are detectives, but the small western Pennsylvania town of Southbank, in which they live, offers them few chances to test their powers.
One May morning, however, it is discovered that Bill's little sister, Dorothy, has disappeared during the night. Kidnapping is feared, and Bill and Ted get busy. They decide that the kidnappers would hide the child in an abandoned coal mine not far from town. Jumping on their bicycles, they ride out to investigate. Fresh auto tracks are found leading up the dirt road toward the mine, and the boys follow them, not knowing what they are going to meet at the end of the road.

NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY.

INSTALLMENT II.
The road leading up the hillside toward the old coal mine was very rough in places, and several times Bill and Ted had to climb off their bicycles and push them up the steep grade.
Low-hanging branches whipped their faces as they rode. Ted, pointing toward some of these branches, found in them another clue to the recent passage of an automobile.
"See how fresh those breaks are, Bill," he said, in a voice that was hushed because of the stillness of the woods and the feeling of mingled fear and mystery that filled both boys.
"They sure look as though a car had passed here not long ago."
Bill did not answer. He could not keep his mind off the thought of what might be waiting for them when they reached the mine, now only a few hundred yards away. Kidnappers who stole children to hold them for ransom must be thoroughly bad characters, who would hesitate at nothing. Yet here were two boys, with absolutely no means of protection, going up to face them. The old abandoned shaft was at any time a place of mystery and danger; under these circumstances it was doubly so.
But well, they had started, and they would not turn back. But Bill secretly wondered at the courage of the boy who rode beside him—and envied him when he could not keep a bit of a shiver from running up and down his own spine.
His thoughts were interrupted by Ted's low cry. Ted was a little ahead of Bill, and he suddenly jumped to the ground and bent over.
"Look, Bill," he cried, in an awed voice. "The automobile tracks end here."
Bill was on his feet now, and he, too, scanned the road. And sure enough, the tracks curved sharply into the bank beside the road and were no more! He looked up at Ted, his face paling.

"They must have turned around," whispered Ted. "See the tracks go in, and then out. And yes, the wheel-marks we were following were double all the way. I hadn't noticed that before. The car came up here, turned around, and then went out again."
"How far is it to the mine now?" asked Bill, in a hushed tone.
"Not very far. I think the hole starts just past that next bend. They probably came this far and walked the rest of the way, and the car drove away. Maybe the kidnappers went back to town to see about a ransom."
The boys stood silent, looking up the road. Only a few yards more, but
"Well, let's leave our bikes here and walk the rest of the way," said Ted, breaking the silence. "We can sneak through the woods and get a look first."
They leaned their bicycles against a large tree a short distance from the road and started
Quietly up the steep slope, making as little noise as possible as they pushed through the underbrush. The bushes and twigs were not dry at this time of year and did not crack, but the leaves that had fallen the autumn before, rustled sharply as they stole along.
The opening to the mine—a mere hole in the side of the hill just past a level spot that was covered with black dust and brown gravel—burst upon their gaze as they pushed aside the branches of a thick bush.
There it was—the place of mystery to which they had come—foolishly, perhaps, but at any rate, bravely.
"There doesn't seem to be anyone around," whispered Ted, after a moment's glance at the opening.
"And I don't see, from here, any footprints in the gravel. Do you—do you suppose we'd better go in?"
Bill swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't want to," he said finally.
"Well, neither do I," said Ted, "but I hate to come this far and then not find out. Just think—she might be hidden in there, Bill, and we could find her. Come on—let's take a chance. I'm not scared if you're not."
Bill was a little bit flattered because Ted had put the question up to him. He pushed down his fear.
"All right. Come on. I'll go first."
"No," answered Ted, "I'll go first. Give me the flashlight."
Slowly the two boys emerged from the thicket and crept up to the door of the mine. A heavy timber across the top of the opening was just high enough for them to walk upright under it. Ted flashed the light into the doorway.
The passage extended, dark and foreboding, for a few yards, then turned abruptly to the left.
Ted, reaching behind to clasp Bill's hand, started in. The silence was so deadly that it seemed to ring in their ears. Softly, quietly, they approached the curve. Just as Ted stepped around it, his light shining on the dark low wall before him, there was a sudden
"W-h-r-rr!" and something soft and black struck him full in the face.
With a yell of terror he sprang back. The light fell clattering to the floor of the mine, and went out.
"It was only a bat!" gasped Bill, recovering his voice. Ted had loosened his hand, and both boys stood trembling in the darkness.
"I've got to get the light," whispered Ted. He leaned forward and groped about the floor, but could not find it. Around the corner the feeble rays of daylight which filtered into the shaft were lost in inky blackness. The floor of the mine at this point was slippery and wet, and the soft drip of water from the ceiling could be heard in the silence.
Ted, still unable to find the light, took a step forward, bending as he went. Suddenly his foot encountered something that felt like the case of the flashlight. He bent forward, and then somehow he lost his footing on the slippery floor. He fell, started
to slip, and with a rush found himself sliding faster and faster down a steep, wet incline.
He gave one scream which was blotted out to Bill's horrified ears by a loud splash. Seconds later Bill, crouching in agony against the wall of the shaft above, heard another splash and then came Ted's voice.
"Bill!"
"Yes, Ted! Where are you? Are you all right?"
"Yes. I slid down a steep slope into the water. It's deep, too—keep back or you'll fall in."
Ted's voice reassured Bill. Surely no kidnappers were here, no matter what other dangers there were.
"Come back, Ted," he cried, his voice a little stronger.
"I can't," came Ted's answer. "This is a big hole down here. I swam up on a rock and I'm out of the water, but I can't get out. It's too slippery and steep. Gosh, that water is like ice."
"What'll I do?" Bill was alarmed now over the plight of his friend.
"Get a rope," called Ted. "I guess you'll have to ride back to that farmhouse at the end of the road. And hurry, it's dark and cold down here."

"I'll hurry," answered Bill. "Don't get scared—I'll be back in a jiffy. So long."
"So long."

Bill turned, stumbled from the shaft and dashed down the grade to his bicycle. Fear for his friend gave wings to his feet. In a minute he was in the saddle and pedaling recklessly down the road.
That road was never intended for the kind of riding that Bill was doing. Low in the saddle, his coaster brake forgotten, he reeled down the rough road, bouncing from rut to rut and taking the curves so low that his knees scraped the daisies in the ditch.
He saw a big root that projected across the road just a second too late. He swerved his wheel sharply, hit the root a glancing blow, and crashed head on into a tree. His arm went up to save him, but his head hit the trunk as he fell over the handle bars, and he crumpled up at the foot of the tree, dazed and half unconscious.

To Be Concluded Next Week.