The Mystery of the Coughing Dragon - West Nick - Страница 9

Pete threw himself forward and landed on Jupiter’s legs, pinning him there. Then, grabbing Jupiter’s belt, he threw his weight backwards.

“Easy, Jupe,” he said, panting. “I’ve got you.”

In another moment, he had enough of Jupiter back for the stocky boy to recover his balance.

“Thanks, Pete,” Jupiter said breathlessly: “Now if you would just remain over me another few seconds until I get this plank extended all the way — ”

They both heard Bob’s joyous shout.

“You got it, Jupe!”

“Okay, Bob. Pete and I will now wedge it into the pit at this side. Then it will be up to you to come up it, hand over hand. Can you reach it?”

There was a second’s pause. Then, “I got it!”

“All right, Bob,” Jupiter said. “Come on, then.”

“Roger!” Bob said.

They heard a warning creak. The plank shook under their hands.

“Here he comes!” Pete yelled.

As the plank swayed and shivered under Bob’s advancing weight, Jupiter leaned on his end with all his strength.

“It may still break,” he whispered to Pete. “Get ready to grab him.”

They heard Bob breathing heavily.

“Okay,” he panted. “Here I am. Now what?”

Pete leaned over. “Grab my hand, Bob.”

Bob’s hand shot up quickly. For a brief moment, their grips held together. Then Bob’s hand slipped away. He moved frantically to grab the wet plank again.

“He’s harder to hold than a greased pig. Jupe,” Pete complained. “You want to try it?”

Jupiter shook his head. “I doubt that I’d do it any better than you. We’ll have to grab him together.”

Bob glared at them from below, as he dangled from the swaying plank. “For Pete’s sake, will you guys stop holding these conferences and get me out of here? I’m weighed down with so much mud, I can hardly hold myself up. And my hands are slipping, too — ”

Jupe’s eyes darted round the interior of the cave. “What we need is a rope,” he said. “Something we can throw and loop over him — ”

“There’s no rope,” Pete muttered. “And no time. We’re only a couple of inches short. There must be something — ”

Suddenly Jupiter’s eyes brightened. “I have it!”

His hands went for his belt buckle. Swiftly, he opened it and drew the belt off his waist. Pete watched open-mouthed as Jupiter inserted the end of his belt through the buckle. It made a small loop.

Jupiter let the other end dangle and leaned over the pit again. “I’ve made a small loop out of my belt, Bob.” he said. “When I lower it, let it go over your hand. Your weight will tighten it. Then Pete and I can pull you out.”

He slowly let the belt out, lowering it into the pit. Then he braced himself for a tug from below.

“I got it!” Bob yelled. “Pull!”

Jupiter sighed with relief. Pete grinned and reached for his share of the belt. Together, they leaned back and pulled.

Something dark and wet, covered with ooze and slime, slowly came up out of the pit.

8

A Forced Retreat

The wet figure dropped beside them, panting heavily.

“Thanks, fellows.”

“It was Jupe’s idea,” Pete said. He glanced down ruefully at his own belt. “I’m wearing a belt, too. I just never thought of using it.”

“Perhaps that’s because you’re not as weight conscious as I am,” Jupiter said, smiling. “Besides, since my waist is wider than yours, my belt is longer.”

Bob wiped mud from his face. “It worked fine, Jupe. I’ll never kid you about being overweight again.” He glanced down into the pit and drew back, shuddering. “Otherwise I might still be down there.”

“All’s well that ends well,” Pete said. “Now what do we do?”

“We go home,” Jupiter said firmly. “Bob’s wet and needs a change of clothing. I’m sorry. It was my fault for insisting we investigate the cave without our torches handy.”

“It would have been a good idea,” Bob agreed. “But I guess it was dumb of me to dash ahead without looking where I was going.”

Jupiter stood up, frowning.

“Odd that such a dangerous pit should be so close to the entrance to the cave. I imagine that would keep a lot of curious people out.”

“Not if they do things my way,” Bob said, grinning weakly. “That would keep a lot of those curious people in!”

“Golly,” Pete said, a serious note in his voice. “Maybe that’s what happened to Mr. Allen’s dog, and the other missing ones. They might have fallen into that pit, too, and been sucked down.”

Jupiter nodded. “It’s a possibility. But we were looking for evidence of their tracks before Bob cried for help, and didn’t find any.”

“Oh?” Pete exclaimed. “Is that what we were doing?” He took a quick look behind him. “Well, let’s get out of here while we still can. This place is scary.”

In complete agreement, they walked quickly out of the cave.

Jupiter looked back. There were giant boulders on the other side of the cave opening.

“I wonder how far back that cave goes,” he said, thoughtfully. “We were told it had been used by smugglers and rum-runners in the past.”

“That’s right,” Pete said. “What about it?”

“The part we were in didn’t seem ideal for hiding things. It was too open and easy to get into.”

“Maybe there are other passages,” Bob said. “Sometimes water erosion wears away the softer rocks. It takes millions of years sometimes. Maybe this area was under water a long time ago. If so, there would be a lot of natural passages.”

“Probably,” Jupiter agreed, “but we don’t have the time to investigate that now. We will have to postpone our search until another time.”

“Suits me,” Pete said with enthusiasm. “Just as long as we can call it quits for today. I’ve had it with scares.”

“We’ve all agreed on that,” Jupiter said. “The trouble is, we seem to have one more ahead of us.”

“What do you mean?” Pete demanded.

Jupiter pointed towards the sea. His companions looked in that direction. They blinked. It wasn’t possible!

Something dark and glittering was rising out of the water.

“I can’t make out what it is,” Bob whispered.

“It’s got a small dark head — like a dragon has, I think,” Pete said, shakily.

A large wave came rolling in. It loomed high over the dark shape, then swept over it, covering it completely.

The boys held their ground nervously, peering intently at the swirling water.

The rolling wave crashed and broke on the beach. Another came in after it. Then, as the swirling water eddied back, they saw the dark shape again.

It stood up. It was sleek, black and shining, down to its webbed feet. Slowly it walked ashore.

“Skin diver,” Pete said, relieved. “Wearing a face mask and flippers. What a thing to get scared over. Come on. Let’s go.”

As they turned away, Jupiter spoke softly into their ears. “Red alert! He’s carrying a spear-gun!”

Pete laughed. “So what? He’s probably hunting fish or something.”

Jupiter shook his head. “He’s heading this way.”

Suddenly the masked man in the black wetsuit dropped to his knees. He extended his spear-gun, and then fell prone, aiming it.

“Uh-oh! Look out!” Bob cried. “He’s aiming at us!”

“Huh?” Pete said. “Why would he do that?”

He squinted and his face paled. “Excuse me! Bob’s right!” He whirled around.“It’s got to be us — there’s nobody else around!”

Jupiter Jones saw the man lying facing them less than a hundred yards away. The speargun was cradled in his arms and definitely appeared to be pointed at them.

Jupiter had a logical mind. One that worked with almost lightning speed sometimes. He appraised the situation and frowned. It defied all logic.

When logic failed, Jupiter could still depend on a keen sense of preservation. “Red alert,” he said. “Scatter and run!”

They whirled instantly and ran for the staircase. As they got closer to it, they saw immediately it was useless. In the excitement, they had forgotten the accident a short while before. They saw the litter of broken steps and, railings again. Behind loomed the cliff wall, rising steeply at an angle impossible to climb.