Read Online The Mystery at Bob-White Cave by Julie Campbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Julie Campbell
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the lakeshore.
Though their guide’s code differed radically from theirs, and though they found it hard to understand his role in the morning’s episode, by tacit agreement they accepted him for what he was—their guide but not necessarily their friend.
“Now, I wonder,” Jim said as the boat was headed across the inlet, “just what that Englishman, clearly a cultured Englishman, is doing in this part of the world.”
“You’ll wonder no more,” Trixie said sadly, “when I tell you something I saw. In the excitement of getting him to the lodge, I forgot to tell you. I saw it again just now. Do you know what Mr. Glendenning has lashed to the seat in that boat?”
“Out with it!” Mart said. “What did you see?”
“A dip net and a carbide lamp, that’s what I saw,” Trixie told him. “That Englishman is after exactly the same thing as we are.”
Five-Hundred-Dollar Poison • 7
THE BOB-WHITES beached the boat at the foot of a limestone cliff that towered forty or fifty feet above, making a sharp, protruding ledge. \
Impatiently, Trixie ran ahead up the shore. “Jeepers, did you feel that?” she shouted as a blast of cool air rushed out from under the center of the rock roof. “It’s the entrance to the cave!” She pushed aside a curtain of vines and climbed over a pile of crushed stone that half filled the entrance.
“Just a minute, miss,” Slim called. “Just a minute. There’s things to be done. Jim, put that board up outside the cave and mark just what time we’re goin’ in and when we’ll be out. It’s downright foolish, but it’s one of the things your uncle said to do.”
Jim made a marker and set it up outside the cave. “It’s about two o’clock now, and we’d better make it... well, say about four?”
“That’s only two hours,” Trixie protested. “What could we find in two hours?”
“All right,” Jim said patiently, “let’s make it five o’clock then.”
“If you’re goin’ to spend three hours in every cave we go into...” Slim began, but he was talking to air, because Trixie was over the pile of rubble and inside the cave.
She couldn’t see a thing ahead of her. There was only subdued light at the entrance, and beyond that, darkness. “Our carbide lamps! It’ll take an hour to light the old things,” she said. “Mart, please shine your big flashlight.”
“We’ll light our carbide lamps,” Brian said authoritatively. “I’ll show you how they work.”
He took off his hat and lifted the lamp from the clamp. Then he unscrewed the two halves of the metal cylinder, poured water into the top half and carbide into the lower, and screwed the two halves back together. He set the valve in “on” position and waited till the water started dripping into the carbide. Acetylene gas, thus formed, escaped through the pin-sized hole in the concave metal reflector.
While Trixie fretted at the delay, she and the other Bob-Whites followed each step Brian made, then watched expectantly as he cupped his hand over the Elector to trap some of the gas and brushed his hand against the flint built into the inside of the reflector to ignite the flame.
Slim had lighted the stub of a miner’s candle he had brought, but he couldn’t keep back a shout of amazement when the lamps on the Bob-Whites’ hats lighted the darkness.
The room where they stood was immense. All about them stalactites gleamed above stalagmites that rose from the floor beneath. On the walls, dozens of crystal formations came into view—draperies that flowed like velvet yet were stone, flowers that sent out delicate frondlike tentacles of limestone and sparkled in the reflected light like semiprecious jewels.
The ground under their feet was slippery with moisture, and the air about them was chilly. A stream trickled through the center of the big room, disappeared into a rocky crevice, and emerged farther on in a path it carved, only to disappear again under a cluster of limestone
Though their guide’s code differed radically from theirs, and though they found it hard to understand his role in the morning’s episode, by tacit agreement they accepted him for what he was—their guide but not necessarily their friend.
“Now, I wonder,” Jim said as the boat was headed across the inlet, “just what that Englishman, clearly a cultured Englishman, is doing in this part of the world.”
“You’ll wonder no more,” Trixie said sadly, “when I tell you something I saw. In the excitement of getting him to the lodge, I forgot to tell you. I saw it again just now. Do you know what Mr. Glendenning has lashed to the seat in that boat?”
“Out with it!” Mart said. “What did you see?”
“A dip net and a carbide lamp, that’s what I saw,” Trixie told him. “That Englishman is after exactly the same thing as we are.”
Five-Hundred-Dollar Poison • 7
THE BOB-WHITES beached the boat at the foot of a limestone cliff that towered forty or fifty feet above, making a sharp, protruding ledge. \
Impatiently, Trixie ran ahead up the shore. “Jeepers, did you feel that?” she shouted as a blast of cool air rushed out from under the center of the rock roof. “It’s the entrance to the cave!” She pushed aside a curtain of vines and climbed over a pile of crushed stone that half filled the entrance.
“Just a minute, miss,” Slim called. “Just a minute. There’s things to be done. Jim, put that board up outside the cave and mark just what time we’re goin’ in and when we’ll be out. It’s downright foolish, but it’s one of the things your uncle said to do.”
Jim made a marker and set it up outside the cave. “It’s about two o’clock now, and we’d better make it... well, say about four?”
“That’s only two hours,” Trixie protested. “What could we find in two hours?”
“All right,” Jim said patiently, “let’s make it five o’clock then.”
“If you’re goin’ to spend three hours in every cave we go into...” Slim began, but he was talking to air, because Trixie was over the pile of rubble and inside the cave.
She couldn’t see a thing ahead of her. There was only subdued light at the entrance, and beyond that, darkness. “Our carbide lamps! It’ll take an hour to light the old things,” she said. “Mart, please shine your big flashlight.”
“We’ll light our carbide lamps,” Brian said authoritatively. “I’ll show you how they work.”
He took off his hat and lifted the lamp from the clamp. Then he unscrewed the two halves of the metal cylinder, poured water into the top half and carbide into the lower, and screwed the two halves back together. He set the valve in “on” position and waited till the water started dripping into the carbide. Acetylene gas, thus formed, escaped through the pin-sized hole in the concave metal reflector.
While Trixie fretted at the delay, she and the other Bob-Whites followed each step Brian made, then watched expectantly as he cupped his hand over the Elector to trap some of the gas and brushed his hand against the flint built into the inside of the reflector to ignite the flame.
Slim had lighted the stub of a miner’s candle he had brought, but he couldn’t keep back a shout of amazement when the lamps on the Bob-Whites’ hats lighted the darkness.
The room where they stood was immense. All about them stalactites gleamed above stalagmites that rose from the floor beneath. On the walls, dozens of crystal formations came into view—draperies that flowed like velvet yet were stone, flowers that sent out delicate frondlike tentacles of limestone and sparkled in the reflected light like semiprecious jewels.
The ground under their feet was slippery with moisture, and the air about them was chilly. A stream trickled through the center of the big room, disappeared into a rocky crevice, and emerged farther on in a path it carved, only to disappear again under a cluster of limestone
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