Read Online The Madman of Black Bear Mountain by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online

good with them.”
    Jim pouted, kicking stubbornly at the dirt with his foot. “And besides, she owes us for ditching us after we went so far out of our way see her. What kind of person crushes the hopes and dreams of a bunch of kids like that? She doesn’t deserve something as special as those demantoids.”
    It sounded like the kids weren’t the only ones feeling let down by Max. Not only had Jim looked up to her as a scientist, but from the way he’d gotten all tongue-tied when Max unexpectedly rode into our lives yesterday, I think he might have had a crush on her as well. Because Jim was our teacher, it could be easy to forget he was really only a few years older than us. He was kind of almost a kid himself when you thought about it, and just then, with his brokenhearted puppy-dog pout, he looked like one too.
    â€œAssuming you are telling the truth, what did you plan to do with the demantoids when you made it back to camp?” Frank asked. “Max has probably noticed she has the wrong backpack.”
    â€œI hadn’t really figured that part out yet,” he admitted. “I thought about just hiding the gemstones somewhere, but with my sense of direction, I’d probably never find it again. I guess I’m not much of an outdoorsman or a criminal.”
    â€œSpeaking of never finding things again,” I interjected, “we have to figure out a way back. The rest of the Geccos are still all by themselves at camp, and none of us are safe until we find a way off this mountain.”
    â€œRight, we can discuss this later,” Frank agreed, his guard shooting back up as he scanned the woods for signs of movement. “We’ve wasted too much time already. Let’s try to find that research station before he finds us.”
    I carefully placed the giant demantoid in its pouch with the others, stowed it back in the rucksack along with the rubles, and followed Frank as he crept away from the cave toward the brook.
    â€œHold on a second,” Jim called from behind us. “Before who finds you?”
    â€œDude, where have you been?” I asked him. “The Mad Hermit.”
    â€œThe Mad Hermit?” Jim scoffed. “Don’t tell me you guys still believe Max’s silly story.”
    Frank and I looked at each other. Thankfully, Jim hadn’t been kidnapped like we thought, but that meant he didn’t know what we knew about the Mad Hermit of Black Bear Mountain.
    â€œHe’s real,” I said. “We saw him.”
    â€œYou can’t be serious,” he said.
    â€œDeadly,” Frank said. “We were lucky to escape with our lives.”
    Jim must have realized we weren’t joking, because he started scurrying after us, peering over his shoulder as he went.
    â€œIf you’re trying to find the research station, I know where it is,” he volunteered.
    â€œNo offense, Jim, but with your backward sense of direction,I think we’re better off just following Frank,” I said.
    â€œNo, I saw it! I spotted it while trying to find my way back to camp. I was heading for it when I smelled someone cooking fish.”
    â€œBon appétit,” I said, handing him the can of tuna, which I’d inadvertently crammed in my pocket after blowing it out when the bear showed up. “Now lead the way.”
    â€œIt should be just over that ridge.” He pointed uphill from the brook.
    Amazingly, Jim was right. When we crested the hill, the station popped into view just a couple hundred yards away, atop the next ridge. The square cabin hovered on the edge of the ravine on a one-story-high set of stilts, giving it a 360-degree view of the entire valley from its wraparound porch. For a forest ranger, it would have made the perfect lookout for fires and poachers. We were just hoping it would make the perfect place to radio for help. We couldn’t see the rapids, but we were close enough to hear them rushing down the mountain