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Chapter II.—Mark Mullen Disappears

"Now then, Mark, down you come," said Tom Ellison, as he shook the lad, who had lowered the upper sleeping-berth in the train and gone to sleep.

"What time is it? Where are we?" Mark asked drowsily.

"Near midnight, and we are at Gunjyal," answered Tom.

"What a beastly hour to turn out!" grumbled Mark as he scrambled down.

In half an hour the servants and a camel—which had been waiting—had started for the Doctor's destination, a place on the Salt Range some twelve miles away.

At daybreak three horses arrived, and the Doctor and his two companions started for their camp.

After breakfast the Doctor took his son and Tom Ellison, accompanied by a servant, to a small valley about a quarter of a mile from the camp.

"Here you are," said the Doctor; "this is the exact spot where I found the pieces of slab."

"Then I should say the rest can't be far away," remarked Tom, and they commenced poking around with the ends of iron-shod sticks. They had been twenty minutes at their task when a boy in charge of some goats planted himself on a rock not far away and keenly watched the Sahibs at work.

"Don't you think it would be a good plan, Doctor, if we got a few coolies to loosen the subsoil and turn over some of these loose stones about here?—it would be easier for us to search," suggested Tom.

"Yes, we may as well make a thorough search now we are at it," replied the Doctor, who at once sent the servant to the village near the camp for some coolies and tools.

The boy had disappeared before the coolies arrived, for he had received a signal from a man who was secretly watching the search-party from the top of a cliff some seventy yards away.

The natives had not been long at work when one of them slipped, and his puggari pitched off exactly on to the spot where the next coolie had turned over a stone. The man picked up his puggari and moved a few yards off to wind it round his head again, and almost immediately the goat-boy appeared and asked him if he had seen a stray goat.

Tom Ellison happened to be standing up examining a strange fossil he had found, and as he casually glanced at the boy he saw the coolie hand him something, which he promptly hid in the folds of a kind of scarf hanging over his shoulder.

In a moment a suspicion flashed into Tom's mind, and he rushed forward and seized the boy before he could make off, and no sooner had he felt the lad's kupra (cloth) than he discovered that the youngster had hidden a newly found piece of the slab which had been picked up by the coolie.

The Doctor and Mark were at once by Tom's side examining the fragment and listening to Tom's explanation. In their excitement they forgot about the boy, and when they looked round became aware that both he and the coolie had disappeared.

The sides of the hills all about were covered with low shrubs, large stones, and nullahs, or ravines, and, although a quick search was made, neither man nor boy could be seen.

When the day was over they had met with no further success as regards finding parts of the slab, but they took away several other stones which they thought might possibly prove to be of some interest, and most of the evening after dinner was spent in discussing the reason which prompted the theft from the Museum, and the attempt to steal the stone found during the day.

"There can be no doubt I was seen examining the fragments I found," said the Doctor. "I remember now that three or four natives were watching me trying to place the several pieces together in my attempts to get an idea of the whole. Strange that these natives should take so keen an interest in an old, broken slab, for the pieces must have been lying there for years."

"I expect we shall have to keep a sharp eye on this piece, for they are sure to have a try for it, judging by what they have already done," said Tom.

"They seem to have a sharp eye on us. I shouldn't be surprised if they thought we came here purposely to hunt for the stones," said Mark.

"Well, I will take a copy of the letters on it at once, in case anything happens to the stone," said the Doctor.

Next day an official letter arrived which necessitated either the Doctor or Tom returning to Lahore for a few hours, and it was decided the letter should go.

"Now listen," said the Doctor as Tom was about to start on his journey. "Take the stone to the Museum and tell them to place it where they can watch any one who takes any peculiar interest in it. Further, get a description of those men who were fighting there on the day the stones were stolen; and don't forget to post my letter to the Professor, for it contains a rubbing from the last piece."

With these parting instructions Tom started on his ride to Gunjyal station so as to arrive there before dark, there being practically no road from the foot of the Salt Range across the miles of dismal tract of sandy plain to the station, although his train did not leave until midnight; but it was the only train in the twenty-four hours.

Tom was half-asleep when he got into the train; he had the compartment to himself, and he thought it likely he would remain alone until he arrived at Lala Musa, about eight o'clock, where he would have to change to get on to the main line, so he quickly spread his bedding, and, drawing the green-baize shade over the lamp, he was soon asleep.

He could not say where it happened, but when he roused up the train was in motion and he was just conscious he was not alone; but the instant he attempted to move, a rug was thrown over his face, and he knew he was being held down by at least two powerful assailants. In a very short time, notwithstanding his fierce struggles, he was bound hand and foot, a gag in his mouth, and blindfolded, without having the slightest idea of the appearance of those who had attacked him.

Whilst Tom was in this condition the train stopped several times, but no one entered the compartment, and, as the Venetian shutters were down, it was impossible for any one to peer through the window and so become aware of his position.

He tried to knock his feet against the side of the carriage at the first station, but he was bound too securely to the seat which formed his bed to allow of the slightest movement, so wearily and painfully the hours dragged on until the guard discovered him and set him free at Lala Musa station.

The moment he was released he found that the only thing missing was the fragment of slab he was to have taken to the Museum.

"They followed me to Gunjyal and then slipped into my carriage at some station whilst I was asleep, and quietly slipped out at the next station when they had got what they wanted," mused Tom.

By the time he had given an account of what had happened to him he had only a few minutes in which to rush over to the refreshment-room and get some breakfast before his train was due.

When Tom arrived in Lahore he went straight to his office, and in a couple of hours he had completed the special work which had necessitated his journey; then he went over to the Museum.

"The thief has been caught, Sahib," said one of the attendants as Tom entered the building.

"When? Who is he?" asked Tom, in considerable surprise, for he had concluded that his late assailants were the men who had robbed the Museum.

"They caught him during last night, but I don't know much about it yet," replied the man.

Tom at once hurried off to the police-station to learn full particulars.

"Yes, we found a piece of stone with some strange device on it," said the Superintendent of Police. "This is it. Do you recognise it?" he added, as he handed Tom the stone.

"No, this is not the one the Doctor found," said Tom, after a moment's examination.

"Well, it is the only bit we got, and we are told it was stolen from the Museum with some others, during a fight," said the officer.

"How did you get this?" asked Tom.

"Well, in rather a strange way. The night after the stones had disappeared three clever burglaries took place in Lahore, and the thieves made valuable hauls in each case, but we could get no clue. Last night an anonymous letter came to us, and we decided to act upon it, so we searched a house in the bazaar and recovered this stone together with some gold and silver ornaments which had been stolen; we found them in the exact spot where we were told to look for them. The man says he is innocent, and that they were placed where we found them unknown to him. Now you know the whole case," said the police-officer.

"And the man you have arrested, do you think he is connected with the men who were fighting in the Museum?" asked Tom.

"He says not. He certainly is not one of the fighters. He does not bear the best of characters, however," was the reply.

Tom related what had happened to him in the train; several theories were advanced to account for the keen interest taken in the stones, and the police began exerting themselves to fathom the mystery.

The morning after Tom Ellison had left the camp a shikari went to Mark with the information that some oorial (wild sheep) were feeding about half a mile away, and Mark, who was a keen sportsman, promptly got his rifle and went with the shikari.

Mark was able to get a long shot, but missed, so sat down while the shikari climbed the peaks around to try and find the oorial again. In about ten minutes Mark heard a slight rustling in the bushes some twenty yards away, and he got a glimpse of a porcupine. He did not wish to fire at it lest he should startle the oorial if they had halted anywhere near, so he picked up a stone and threw it at the animal when next he saw it.

"I have hit it," he muttered, as he heard a peculiar cry, and he hurried forward, but he could find no sign of the porcupine, and he concluded it had entered a small cave he discovered.

Mark struck a match and went in a few feet, but it appeared to be very low, and when his match went out he decided to go no farther, for he had no desire to stumble on the top of a porcupine.

In a short time the shikari returned, and Mark thought no more about the animal until he had been back at the camp some time.

While Mark had been away on his shooting expedition, Harry Burton, the Superintendent of Police, had called, and during the afternoon Mark casually mentioned the incident of the porcupine.

"I think you are mistaken about it being a porcupine, my boy," said Burton.

"I don't think so. I saw it twice and hit it with the stone, for I distinctly heard it make a peculiar noise as though hurt," persisted Mark.

"That is exactly what makes me certain it was not a porcupine, for it is one of the animals without vocal cords, therefore cannot make a vocal sound. It was more likely a wild pig, for there are a number about here," said Burton, who was a great sportsman.

Mark, however, felt certain he had distinctly seen the animal's quills, so a little later he quietly left the camp without saying a word to any one as to where he was going.

At nine o'clock that night Mark had not returned to camp, and Burton, who had remained to dinner, suggested that he might have got lost, or met with an accident; so a search was at once commenced.

Chapter III.—The Mysterious Fakir

"Well, Burton, what is your opinion now?" asked Doctor Mullen on their return to camp about three o'clock in the morning, after an unsuccessful search for Mark.

"I am sorry to say I think he has met with a serious accident and is unable to help himself. Listen to those natives shouting 'Sahib! Sahib!' and far beyond them others are calling, and the boy would have replied if he could have done so. You are sure he went alone?" asked Burton.

"Yes. He took his gun, which seems to suggest that he started for that lake about a mile from here after duck. Had he gone after oorial he would have taken his rifle and would have been accompanied by the shikari," said the Doctor, who was greatly distressed about his son's disappearance.

"As soon as it is light I will have every nullah and bush searched for miles round," said Burton, and then he mused without giving expression to his thoughts. "He may have fallen over a kud (precipice), or his gun may have burst, or he may have been bitten by a snake, or he may have run against those—well, fragments of slab"; and he left the tent and sent off messages to the headmen of the villages around.

Harry Burton was one of the cleverest officers in the Indian police; he was a few years over thirty, a dark-complexioned man of medium height, very agile and powerful, and was known to the Salt Range natives as Koj (tracker) Burton Sahib, owing to his smartness in following up the slightest clue.

Burton, at the Doctor's request, went to occupy Mark's empty tent for an hour or two, and as he stretched himself on the camp bed his busy brain was engaged in trying to form a connection between the broken slab and Mark's absence, and these thoughts kept him awake, so he was the first to hear the footsteps of an approaching horse.

"Hello! Is that you, Ellison?" greeted Burton, as the new arrival dismounted.

"Yes. I heard at Gunjyal about Mark, so, instead of waiting for daylight, I hunted up a horse, and, by all this shouting, I conclude Mark is still missing," said Tom, and in a very few minutes he had related to Burton and the Doctor his experience in the train and what he had learnt in Lahore.

"Ah, things are getting a bit more complicated," said Burton aloud, and then muttered to himself, "But I begin to get a better hold of the idea."

"Now you clearly understand me," said Burton when instructing the headmen. "You are to send out every available man and boy from your villages, and they are to search every nullah until they meet the men from the next village. We think the young Sahib has met with an accident, and if you find him you are to send word here immediately; and you, Appoyas, instruct your men to be most careful in searching those cliffs near your village."

"What's that man's name?" asked the Doctor as soon as the men had gone.

"Appoyas. It is an unusual name—certainly not a Punjabi one," replied Burton.

"I never heard the name before. He is a fine-looking man," remarked the Doctor.

"And a very wealthy man, according to report. That is his village on the very edge of those cliffs about a mile away. It is the most prosperous village on the Salt Range, and celebrated for its stamped-cloth work. Appoyas and his brother Atlasul—another uncommon name—buy up all the cloth made and stamped in the place, and give a good price too, and their camels frequently go off laden with bales. But come over here a minute," and Burton led the Doctor some short distance from the camp.

"I can scarcely credit it; surely it is too improbable, how–" began the Doctor when he had heard what Burton had to say.

"Never mind; kindly act in the manner I suggest," interrupted Burton, "and I think you will find I am right. Now I must be off, and—well, expect me when you see me, as they say"; and in a couple of minutes he was riding from the camp on a secret and dangerous expedition.

The search was continued all day, but not the slightest sign of Mark could be discovered.

If any one, about sunset, had been near the place where Mark was resting at the time he thought he saw the porcupine, a Fakir might have been seen sitting on the identical spot. He appeared to be in deep meditation, but, as soon as it was dark, he crept cautiously to the entrance of the cave into which Mark thought the porcupine had disappeared.

The Fakir paused, and after listening intently for a few moments he scrambled in; and after again listening he produced a bull's-eye lamp—a most unusual thing for a native to possess—and carefully lit it.

He next examined a revolver and a knife he carried in a girdle under a loose garment he had wrapped round him, and in addition to these weapons he had an iron rod about three feet and a-half long, similar to what many Fakirs carry.

He now advanced along a narrow passage which widened into a large cave, from which opened another narrow passage, and this he proceeded cautiously to explore, but when he had gone about a hundred yards it came to an abrupt end, the roof here being exceedingly high, and as he flashed his light around he could not see the top.

For the space of an hour he probed about with his iron rod, and felt in the cracks and crevices in the walls; then suddenly he sat down, and, had any one been near enough, they would have heard him chuckling to himself, for he had made a great discovery.

In a short time he made his way out of the cave and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

"What do you make of this, Ellison?" said the Doctor early next morning. "I have just found this note in my tent; it is written in Punjabi, and in English it reads: 'If the Sahib wishes to learn where his son is he will be told if you promise to give up the other pieces of stone you found. Let the Sahib write his promise on the blank part of this paper and place it on the small olive-tree near the salt spring. The Sahib's men need not watch, for they will not see who fetches it.'

"Do you think it is a hoax?" asked the Doctor.

"I don't know. I scarcely think so. I wish Burton was back," said Tom, who thought that Burton's experience might enable him to get something of a clue from the strange message. "They have got all the stones," he added.

"We took others that did not belong to the slab," said the Doctor.

"Of course, I had forgotten; and the writer of this is under the impression they are parts of the slab," remarked Tom.

"If this is genuine, then Mark is a prisoner, which is Burton's opinion; and I believe he is acting in some secret manner on his opinion," said the Doctor.

After a long consultation the Doctor tore off the blank piece of paper and wrote on it in the native language: "You must first give me some proof that you know where my son is before I promise to comply with your request. Let him write to me."

"We both know where the salt spring is, Tom, so I will take the paper there, and you go to some place where you can watch the spring through your field-glasses," said the Doctor.

"Very good. By the time we get a reply Burton may be back," said Tom, and they left the camp.

Tom watched patiently all day, but, with the exception of a boy in charge of some goats, no one went near the spring, and the boy did not go within a hundred yards of it, though his goats were feeding all round and close to it.

"Glad to see you back, Burton," exclaimed Tom when he returned to camp and found the officer there.

"What luck, Tom?" asked the Doctor.

"Bad. I waited until it was too dark to see, and the message had not been taken when I came away," he replied.

"You are wrong, Tom, my boy, for I saw it taken," said Burton.

"How? Where were you?" asked Tom, in surprise.

"Not far from you, and I saw a goat sniff it and quickly walk off with the paper in its mouth, and five minutes later the boy had it in his hand. Here, smell this," and Burton held out the paper containing the message to the Doctor.

"A peculiar smell," said Tom.

"Yes, and the goat is trained to carry anything impregnated with that subtle odour," explained Burton.

"Do you believe the writer of this knows where Mark is, Burton? Have you discovered anything?" asked Tom.

"Yes, the man knows well enough, and I know to half a mile," said Burton.

"They why not try to release him at once?" exclaimed Tom.

"Easier said than done, and I am fully convinced it would be dangerous to force matters without careful arrangements. I practically know with whom we have to deal, and, if I am any judge of native character, I believe we are in conflict with some of the most cunning and fearless men in India—men who had been carrying on their work for many years, and that, too, without raising suspicion, and who will not hesitate to risk life and cause death to accomplish their purpose, and–" Burton suddenly stopped speaking; then, almost in a whisper, he hurriedly said, "Go on talking about Mark," and noiselessly he left the tent.

In a few moments there was a sound of a scuffle at the back of the tent, followed by a thud and an exclamation from Burton; so they rushed out to see what had happened, the Doctor taking the lamp from the tent-pole as he passed.

"What's the matter, Burton?" asked Tom.

"Bring the lamp here," he answered, rubbing his knees. "They were too smart for me, and I got the worst of it this time," he added.

"What is that rope doing there?" asked the Doctor, as the light revealed a long rope extending from a tent-peg to a considerable distance into the darkness.

"Oh, it is there for a purpose, and it answers too well to suit me, for it has given me one of the heaviest falls I have had for a long time. A man was there listening to us, and it would have made no difference which way I had come round the tent, for the eavesdropper would have gone in the opposite direction. When I heard him making off I dashed after him, and his comrade, who was at the far end of the rope, jerked it taut when it was between me and the man I was after, with the result that I came a most terrific cropper; then they promptly fled, and are safely away by this time," explained Burton.

"But how did you know there was any one outside?" asked Tom. "I never heard a sound."

"I saw the side of the tent shake, and there is not a breath of air stirring. The man who was listening must know English, I feel sure; and I am afraid we have made a terrible mistake in not taking precautionary measures against being overheard. If they understood what I said about suspecting who they are, I may make up my mind to having a rather lively time." Burton said in a whisper, for he did not know but some one might still be listening screened in the darkness.

"They may have only come to watch us, and probably did not grasp the meaning of our conversation," said the Doctor, in a low voice.

"Let us hope so, for it may mean life or death," was Burton's serious reply, and that night guards were set over the camp.

Early next morning Burton left, but before going he slipped a letter into the Doctor's hand, saying as he did so, "Don't open it unless I am not back by eight o'clock to-morrow morning. Inside you will find full instructions what to do if I have not returned."