The Madman of Black Bear Mountain by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page A

horse to follow—which would have been great if the clearing hadn’t been right on the edge of a hidden gulch.
    One second we were running through the woods and the next we were rolling straight down a humongous hill! I tried to grab hold of something to slow myself down, but the hill was too steep, especially with the rain turning everything around us to mud. I tumbled head over heels after my brother, praying we weren’t about to roll right off the side of the mountain.
    I heard a thump followed by an “Umph!” when Frank hit the bottom and braced myself for impact.
    â€œOof!” I grunted as I rolled to a surprisingly gentle stop beside my brother. I opened my eyes, hoping I hadn’t broken every bone in my body and was in too much shock to realize it. But nope! We’d landed in a huge bed of lush green ferns!
    â€œHuh,” Frank said, examining one of the leaves. “This looks like Dennstaedtia punctilobula .”
    â€œWhatever it’s called, it’s my new favorite plant,” I said. “I thought we were goners for sure.”
    â€œWe still might be,” Frank reminded me, shifting his gaze back up to the top of the hill.
    I was so disoriented from our fall, I’d almost forgotten what we’d been running from in the first place! I stared up anxiously, but there was no sign of the Mad Hermit.
    â€œThat hill might have saved our lives,” Frank said. “Do you think we lost him?”
    â€œI don’t know. It’s too steep for him to make it down on horseback, but he knows these woods a lot better than we do,” I said, squinting to see through the downpour. “Let’s find some kind of shelter where we can hide until the rain lets up.”
    â€œWhen in doubt, follow running water downstream,” Frank said, recalling another wilderness survival lesson, pointing to the swelling brook running downhill through the ferns. “I bet that eventually feeds into the rapids we saw from the plane beneath the ranger station.”
    Two good things about being pelted by pouring rain were that it made it easier for us to move silently through the woods and a lot harder for someone to track us. It also made for a pretty miserable hike, though, so I was relieved when I saw the opening to a cave at the base of a rocky ledge.
    I pointed it out to Frank, and we approached cautiously in case any wild animals had the same idea about waiting out the storm.
    â€œI can’t see more than a few feet in,” Frank said as we ducked into the cavern and out of the rain.
    â€œI only have a few matches left,” I told him, reaching into my pocket for the little waterproof survival kit I always carry with me while exploring. “But we should at least be able to scope it out to see if it’s safe.”
    Two matches bought us enough light to make it to the back of the cave. It wasn’t large, but the back wall was out of sight of the entrance, so there was no way someone was going to be able to spot us, especially not in the pitch black that engulfed us when the second match went out.
    â€œI guess this will have to do,” Frank’s voice floated out of the darkness. “I . . . OOF!”
    I heard Frank stumble to the ground a few feet away.
    I crouched into a fighting stance, ready to face an unseen threat in the dark cave.
    â€œYou okay, bro?” I asked.
    â€œYeah, I think I tripped over something. Can you spare another match?”
    â€œOnly two more left after this,” I said as the match sparked to life in my fingers.
    â€œWeird,” Frank said, examining a loop of rope sticking out of the cave’s dirt floor.
    He gave it a tug and the dirt began to shake loose, uncoveringmore rope hidden beneath the surface. “There’s something down there,” he said.
    He scooped the dirt away with his hands and gave another big tug. The ground beneath the rope gave way as Frank yanked a rusty metal box