“Do you see that break among the trees?” returned Laspar, pointing slightly to the left. “That is a gully that becomes a stream during rainy seasons. To the right of it, all is Quest mine property. To the left is the property of the Chalice mine.”
“It’s not far across the lake,” remarked Harry. “Not more than a hundred and fifty yards.”
“The lake is narrow at this point,” agreed Laspar. “It widens out at both sides. It is almost like two lakes, with a narrow strait between.”
“What about the timber?” queried Rex. “Your lumber camp is on this side of the lake. How do you intend to clear the Quest mine property?”
“We intend to work around the lake,” explained Laspar. “Extending the corduroy road as we proceed. But we will not reach the Quest mine property until next season.”
“And how long will it require to clear it?”
“Three seasons, at least. And by that time, I believe that the Chalice mine property will have long been abandoned. I shall probably be able to obtain new timber rights there.”
The sun was setting. Lake Chalice, placid in its sylvan setting, was taking on a purplish hue that held the gaze of the observers.
“I had not expected you to arrive so soon, Rex,” mused Laspar. “Nevertheless, I am glad that you are here. If you really intend to search for that forgotten mine shaft, the sooner that you begin, the better.”
“I do intend to look for it,” asserted Rex. “Particularly since a certain party tried to persuade me not to come here.”
“Did Witherby advise you against it?”
“I don’t mean Witherby. Of course he pooh-poohs the idea of the Quest mine being worth anything at all. I mean someone who took measures to prevent my trip here.”
“Someone tried to stop your journey?”
“Yes. James Jubal.”
An exclamation of surprise came from Laspar. The magnate had apparently not expected any mention of the swindler’s name. Laspar’s expression was perplexed. Rex smiled as he began an explanation.
In detail, the young man told of Jubal’s visit. He described the fight near the Club Renaldo. He added details concerning his rescue by Harry Vincent.
“Most amazing!” exclaimed Laspar, when Rex had concluded. “What did Witherby have to say about it when you called him from Detroit?”
“I told him nothing,” replied Rex. “I simply said that I wanted him to keep my stock in safe deposit. But I learned something from him, at that.”
“About Jubal?”
“No. About Firth. The servant mailed Witherby the key, but no other communication.”
“He will probably write later.”
“Witherby thinks not. He believes that Firth is disgruntled because he was not remembered in my uncle’s will. If that is so, it explains facts about the mess that I encountered.”
“You mean a connection between Firth and Jubal?”
“I do. Both have disappeared. By rights, I should be dead.”
“A PLAUSIBLE theory, Rex,” declared Laspar, soberly. “I like your reasoning in this matter. There is only one point that I doubt. I do not believe that Jubal wanted that stock because he thinks there is gold in the Quest mine.”
“You mean he wanted it only to sell?”
“Yes. It would be a profitable offering to his sucker list. The man’s game is fake promotion. Like all swindlers, he would ignore a legitimate undertaking.”
“Perhaps you are right, Mr. Laspar.”
“I feel sure that I am right. But do not let that discourage you if you are determined to search for the mine shaft. It is somewhere in those slopes. That much is certain.”
“My surveyors went over that timber land. They built a shack there, some distance in from the lake, that you can use for temporary headquarters any night that you do not care to make a long trip back to the lodge.
“With Vincent aiding you, your search should be speeded. At the same time, I doubt that you will find the entrance to the forgotten shaft. My men looked for it — I ordered them to do so — but they found no trace.”
Laspar paused. Rex took up the theme.
“It occurred to me,” said the heir, “that someone in this terrain might hazard a guess as to where the mine shaft is. Your men have not been here long, have they?”
“No,” replied Laspar. “Possibly you might find some natives over at the Chalice mine camp.”
“They are still working there?”
“A skeleton crew is on duty at the entrance to the Chalice shaft. A mile east of the dividing line between the two properties.”
“Would they welcome a visit from me?”
“I don’t see why not. There should be no antagonism on their part. I think that a visit should prove worthwhile. You can use my motorboat.”
Laspar paused thoughtfully. He stared out over the lake. His eyes caught the wisp of white smoke that was still coiling from the distant island. He started to say something; then hesitated, but finally spoke.
“There is a cabin on that island,” stated Laspar. “It is occupied by an old hermit who has been hereabouts for years. A bearded recluse, whom the natives have dubbed Old Absalom.”
“Do you think he might know the location of the Quest mine?” asked Rex.
“It is possible,” acknowledged Laspar. “Yet I hesitated in mentioning Old Absalom. He is something of a dangerous character. People have found it wise to keep clear of his isle.”
“He resents intrusion?”
“Yes. His island is posted with crude signs that are a warning against trespassers. Old Absalom, himself, is seen only at intervals. Sometimes on the lake, fishing; at other times he comes ashore.”
“Has he ever been over here?”
“No. But he has approached the lumber camp; and I believe he may have gone over to the Quest mine. He must have a small hoard of money, because he brings coins and bargains for supplies or tobacco. But outside of that, he avoids all conversation. At least, that is what they say.”
“He has been here for years?”
“Presumably. It is said that he once killed a man who ventured to his island. Dropped the fellow with a shotgun. The intruder was a vagrant who might have been after Old Absalom’s money.”
“So they acquitted Old Absalom?”
“Yes. Old Absalom has claim to that island. What he did once, he might do again. That is why I would not advise you to go over there. The old hermit might make trouble for all strangers.”
REX nodded. So did Harry. Yet both were intrigued by the possibility of obtaining information from the strange recluse whom Laspar had mentioned.
“Old Absalom is a trapper in the winter,” added Laspar. “He must know a great deal about this territory. But they say that he talks only in grunts. Possibly he is feebleminded, or perhaps demented.
“It would be difficult, I imagine, to gain real information from him. At the same time, he is the one man who might be able to name the exact location of the Quest mine shaft. You can think about him later, after you have inquired elsewhere.”
Old Absalom’s low-set isle had blackened in the shadow of the higher shores. But as the three men watched the curling smoke above the trees, they noticed a moving object on the darkened water.
It was a small boat, rowed by a stoop-shouldered oarsman. It had come from the darkness of a shore; it was coasting into the shelter of the isle.
“Old Absalom,” remarked Laspar. “Coming home.”
Harry and Rex continued to observe the spot where the boat had disappeared. Then came a sound that made them turn their eyes upward. The thrum of an approaching airplane.
High above the trees, they spotted the winged craft. It was topped by spinning blades that gave it the appearance of a windmill. The ship was traveling over Lake Chalice, heading toward the setting sun.
“An autogyro!” exclaimed Rex.