The Call of the Beaver Patrol | Page 8

mine in the bed!"
"I left mine in bed, too," answered Sandy. "I know it is day, because
I'm hungry."
CHAPTER IV
A SENSATIONAL DISCOVERY
When Will awoke he began preparations for breakfast before paying
any attention whatever to his chums, whom he believed to be sleeping
quietly on their cots. It was November, and quite chilly in the
apartment, so his next efforts were directed to coaxing the electric coils

into a cheery glow.
Presently George came tumbling out in his pyjamas and sat down on a
rickety chair to talk of the adventures in prospect.
"I wonder if the Labyrinth mine is so much of a labyrinth after all?" he
asked. "It seems to me that we might find our way through it without
danger of losing ourselves," he continued with a yawn.
"It's some labyrinth, I take it," Will replied.
"Well, we can make chalk marks on the walls as we move along,"
suggested George. "Besides," he added, "we can string an electric wire
through the center gangway and turn on the lights."
"There are probably electric lights there now," answered Will.
"Then there's no danger of our becoming lost," George argued.
"I wish you'd go to the back of the room and tip over those two cots,"
grinned Will. "It's the hardest kind of work to get Tommy and Sandy to
bed, but when you do get them in bed once, it's harder still to get them
out of it. Just tip the cots over and roll 'em out on the floor."
George approached the two cots in a stealthy manner and made ready
to give Tommy and Sandy the bump of their lives.
"Don't break their necks!" advised Will.
As soon as George reached Tommy's bunk he stretched forth a hand for
the purpose of tangling the boy up in the bedclothing so that his fall to
the hard floor might be in a measure broken.
As he swung his hand over the cot, however, his eyes widened and he
called out to Will that the boys were not in their cots.
There was a look of alarm as well as of annoyance on each face as the
lads thought over the situation.

"The little idiots!" exclaimed Will.
"That isn't strong enough!" George corrected.
"There's no knowing how long they've been gone," Will suggested.
"The chances are that they went away as soon as we went to sleep."
"In that case, they're in trouble!" George declared.
"In what kind of trouble?"
"The good Lord only knows!" replied George. "Tommy and Sandy can
get into more different kinds of trouble in less time than any other boys
on the face of the earth. They're the original lookers for trouble!"
"Do you suppose they've got lost in the mine?" asked Will.
"It may be worse than that!" cried George. "They may have butted into
some of the people the caretaker indirectly referred to last night."
"He did speak of strange noises and mysterious lights, didn't he?"
"He certainly did, and I've got a hunch that Sandy and Tommy have
butted into some hostile interests.
"It does seem as if they would be back by this time unless they were in
trouble!"
The boys prepared an elaborate breakfast in the hope that Tommy and
Sandy, who would be sure to be hungry, would return in time to
partake of it. A dozen times during the meal they walked back to the
shaft opening and looked anxiously down into the dark bowels of the
mine.
"Those fellows are always getting into trouble," Will said, rather
crossly, as he stood looking down. "They have a way of running into
most of their dangers at night, too. It was the same up on Lake Superior;
the same in the snake-haunted Everglades of Florida; the same on the
Rocky Mountains, and the same in the Hudson Bay country."

"They sure do keep things moving," grinned George.
"I think," Will suggested after a time, "that we'd better find Canfield
and get his advice before we do anything in the way of setting up a
search. I hate to admit that two members of our party got into a scrape
on the same night we struck the mine, but I guess there's no way out of
it."
While the boys talked together, the door opened softly and the
caretaker entered, accompanied by a short, paunchy man with a very
red face and eyes which were black, small and suspicious. He was a
man well past middle age, but he seemed to be making a bluff at
thirty-five. His hair, which had turned white at the temples, and his
moustache were both dyed black.
Canfield introduced the new-comer as the detective, Joe Ventner, of
New York, and the boys greeted him courteously.
He accepted their proffered hands with