Danger: Dinosaurs!

Chapter 15 Pursuit

They worked on Pete for a good ten minutes. They rubbed his wrists and they slapped his face, and Chuck desperately wished for smelling salts to revive the portly cook. After awhile his eyelids blinked, quivered, were still again. “Pete,” Chuck said.

The red-fringed eyelids blinked again and this time they stayed open to reveal wondering green eyes. “Wh-where am I?” Pete said classically. “It’s all right, Pete,” Chuck murmured. Pete sat bolt upright, twisting his head to one side. “Masterson! Where...?”

“He’s gone, Pete,” Arthur said. “And Dr. Dumar and Denise with him.”

Pete let out a low moan and cradled his head in his hands.

“What happened?” Dr. Perry wanted to know. Gardel stood by silently, a secret smile on his thin face.

“I don’t remember exactly,” Pete said.

“Try,” Dr. Perry prompted.

“Well, it couldn’t have happened more than twenty minutes ago. Masterson was all right up to then. After you left, we sat around talking about our chances. Masterson wasn’t too happy about the situation, but he wasn’t grumbling the way he did. He even said you were a capable guide, Chuck.”

“Masterson said that?”

“Yep. His very words.”

“You should have smelled a rat right then.”

“Well, I thought it was funny at the time, but I figured maybe he was having a change of heart. It looks like I figured wrong.”

“What happened?” Dr. Perry asked again.

“Like I said, we were just sitting around. I had the rifle alongside me on the ground while I was talking to Dr. Dumar. He was telling me about France. I learned that Pierre means Pete in French. I got a big kick out of that and I started to laugh. All of a sudden Masterson had the rifle in his hands.”

“Ouch!” Arthur said.

“He pointed the gun at me and told me to turn around and put up my hands. When I did that, he ordered Denise and Dr. Dumar to come over to him. Dr. Dumar objected, but Masterson shoved the gun at him and he finally obeyed. I was about to turn around when something hit me on the back of the head.” Pete put an exploratory hand to his red hair. “I guess he used the stock of the rifle. Next thing I knew, Chuck was looking down at me, and I was coming up out of a long black tunnel.”

“How long ago was this?”

Pete glanced at his watch. “Like I said, it can’t be more than twenty minutes.”

Chuck got to his feet. “Let’s go,” he said. “They can’t have gone very far in twenty minutes, not with this fog.”

Gardel smiled thinly. “I’m staying here,” he said.

Chuck turned and there was a cold fury on his face. “Look, Gardel, I’ve had about enough of you and your rotten boss. If you don’t start moving in about three seconds, we’ll stake you out and leave you for Allosaurus.”

“You’re bluffing,” Gardel said. “You’re plain bluffing. I ain’t moving from this spot, and you can’t force me to.”

“No,” Chuck said simply. “As a matter of fact, we’ll help you stay here. Take him, Arthur.”

Arthur moved amazingly fast for a big man. He pinned Gardel’s arms behind him, and Chuck said, “Get some stakes, Pete. We’ll strip Gardel and use his clothes to tie him to the stakes. Allosaurus will appreciate a change of diet, especially when he’ll be getting it so easily.”

“You’re bluffing,” Gardel said again, but his voice lacked conviction this time.

“Sure, I’m bluffing.”

“We ain’t even seen no Allosaurus yet,” Gardel said. “Maybe there ain’t no such animal. Maybe the scientists invented him.”

“He’s real,” Dr. Perry said grimly. “I’ve seen him many times in the past six months.” He shook his head. “He is not a very pleasant beast, Gardel. I don’t think you’ll get along.”

“Maybe they will, Doc,” Chuck said. “Gardel isn’t a very pleasant beast, either.”

Gardel seemed to grow a shade paler. “You... you wouldn’t really leave me’s-s-staked out.”

“Of course not,” Chuck said. “Ah, here’s Pete with some nice chunks of wood now.”

Pete dropped a half-dozen sturdy branches at Chuck’s feet. “These okay?” he asked.

“Fine. Strip him, Arthur. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

“No,” Gardel shouted. “I’ll come along. I’ll... I’ll come along.”

Chuck shoved him ahead of the group. “Remember this, Gardel, and remember it well. I wasn’t kidding. I’d be a fool to waste time arguing with you. I was going to leave you staked here as sure as you’re living. Just remember that.”

Gardel didn’t answer.

Chuck felt Arthur’s hand on his shoulder.

“Easy,” Arthur said. “Don’t lose your grip.”

“I’m all right,” Chuck said. “Let’s get moving.”

They found tracks. Three sets of footprints. The smallest set belonged to Denise, the next largest to Dr. Dumar. The heavy footprints that dug down deep into the earth were Masterson’s.

They followed the tracks diligently like big-game hunters close to their quarry. At one point they found a spot where the group must have paused to rest. Chuck examined the spot closely. Masterson’s cigar had sprinkled ash all over the ground, and his footprints were deeper, as if he’d stood in one spot for a long time.

“Let’s go,” Chuck said.

The tracks were clear, disappearing only when the fugitives crossed a large expanse of rock, but picking up again whenever they hit soft earth. The fog was beginning to lift a little, and the going was easier and faster. Chuck was thankful for that. Masterson had had to contend with the fog and with two prisoners who had gone along with him unwillingly. Now that the fog was lifting, Chuck had every hope of catching up. And then...?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know what would happen because he couldn’t figure what possible motive had provoked Masterson. He could only conclude that the man was completely insane. Why else would he pull a fool stunt like this? What could he possibly hope to gain?

And why had he taken only Denise and Dr. Dumar with him? Why leave Pete behind? Chuck felt certain there was meaning to that. It would have been more difficult to have taken Pete along, of course. He would have presented a constant menace to Masterson. Whatever his reasons for escape had been, he would not want them menaced. On the other hand, had he taken Pete with him, the returning hill hunters might have concluded that they were simply lost, had somehow missed Masterson, Pete, Denise and Dr. Dumar in the deep fog.

That would have seemed to be the best plan. And yet Masterson had left Pete behind.

He had done that for a good reason, Chuck surmised. It was obvious why he wanted his niece with him. Apparently he was a human being, after all, and was concerned over her welfare.

But why Dr. Dumar?

Chuck felt this was the key. If he knew why Masterson had taken the geologist with him, he’d also know why Masterson had pulled his escape at all.

“Gardel,” he called, “wait up.”

Gardel stopped in his tracks and waited for Chuck to join him. He pulled his lips back over his teeth and said, “What is it, Superboy?”

“Don’t get smart, Gardel,” Chuck warned.

“Tough guy,” Gardel snarled. “A real tough guy.”

“Sure,” Chuck said sarcastically. “I chew spikes and spit out carpet tacks.”

“A comedian, too.”

“Why did your boss leave the party?” Chuck asked suddenly.

“Because he...” Gardel snapped his jaws shut and allowed a smile to trickle across his thin mouth. “How do I know why he left?” he amended. “You think I’m a mind reader?”

“He must want to hunt dinosaurs pretty badly,” Chuck said.

“Yeah, that’s it. He wants to hunt a little.”

“Then why does he need Dr. Dumar with him?” Chuck snapped.

“Maybe the little man is a good hunter, too. Or maybe Dirk wanted a guide. Maybe he...”

“A guide,” Chuck said slowly.

Gardel turned and glanced at him, pivoting his head back quickly. “Or maybe he took the doc along as protection. Who knows?” He smiled his thin smile and added, “He’s got him, though, and that’s tough.

“It’s tough, all right,” Chuck agreed. “The authorities will think it’s very tough. And Masterson may find prison a little different from what he imagined.”

Gardel laughed out loud, his thin nose jutting up into the air, his lips pulling back over large teeth. “You got to get him first,” he said.

“We’ll do that, Gardel. We’ll do that.”

They lost the trail shortly after that.

The footprints ended when a large bed of slate claimed the land. The slate stretched for as far as the eye could see, covering the ground with gray monotony. It was spread about in a crude semicircle, and Masterson could have turned anywhere on the bed to plunge into the undergrowth. It would take them at least a half-hour to walk the perimeter of the semicircle. By that time Masterson could be a good distance away.

“This isn’t so good,” Dr. Perry said.

Pete nodded his red head. “That’s putting it mildly, Doc.”

Gardel said nothing. He simply smiled.

“Let’s split up,” Chuck said. “Pete, Dr. Perry, cut clear across the bed to the other side. Then start back, walking the perimeter and looking for sign on the edges. Arthur and I will start on this end and we’ll work toward the middle, too. Whoever spots tracks first will call the others.” He paused and looked intently at Gardel. “You can come with Arthur and me, Gardel.”

“Sure,” Gardel said. “Why not?”

Chuck watched Pete and Dr. Perry start across the slate, heading for the other end of the semicircle.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” Chuck said to Arthur.

“It may be easier than you think.”

“How so?”

“I’ve been on a lot of hunting expeditions in the ten years I worked for Masterson. I can track like an Indian scout.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Chuck said, as they started around the semicircle, shoving aside the plants on the perimeter so that they could study the ground for tracks.

“That was the one thing I really enjoyed,” Arthur said. “The hunting. Even before I started working for Masterson, I used to hunt in the woods back home. I was pretty good.”

“Really?”

Arthur nodded, thinking back to the past. “As a matter of fact, I was offered a job with an expedition that was heading for Africa just about the time Masterson came along. The job with Masterson sounded better, so I took it.” He shook his head. “Brother, did I make a mistake.”

“Well, you had no way of knowing.”

They were still threading their way around the slate bed, painstakingly studying every inch of the ground.

“Sure,” Arthur said, “but I often wonder what would have become of me if Masterson hadn’t come along at just that time. The man about to hire me was a wonderful old guy. As a matter of fact, when he died, he left a great deal of money to one of the boys he’d hired for that expedition. I remember reading about it in the newspapers at the time. A grand old guy.”

“What was his name?” Chuck asked.

“J. D. Daniels. Have you ever heard of him?”

Chuck stopped short in his tracks. “Why he was a multimillionaire, Arthur. Brother, I’ll say you made a mistake.”

Arthur agreed, nodding his head. “Well, there was no way of knowing at the time. Sometimes, though, I wish that Masterson had never existed, that I’d never met him.”

“You’d still be in the gutter if it hadn’t been for Dirk,” Gardel cracked, a malicious grin on his face.

“Gardel,” Chuck warned, “didn’t you learn a lesson the last time you shot your mouth off at Arthur?”

“He doesn’t bother me.” Arthur said. “I feel sorry for him, that’s all.”

In spite of what he had said, though, Arthur fell into a deep, brooding silence that made Chuck want to punch Gardel’s gloating face. They continued around the slate arc, and Chuck began to wonder if Masterson hadn’t simply leaped into the air and disappeared that way.

And then Arthur yelled, “Hey!”

“What is it?”

“A cigar,” he said. He got down on his hands and knees and shoved some ferns aside. Gingerly, he picked up a smoldering brown cigar stub. “It’s still warm, Chuck. He couldn’t have dropped it long ago.”

“Maybe he dropped it on purpose. He may be trying to throw us off.”

“Maybe,” Arthur said. He shoved some more ferns aside, practically putting his nose to the ground. “No! No, Chuck, here’s a footprint! They went this way.”

Chuck didn’t wait for more. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Pete! Dr. Perry! We’ve picked up the trail again!”

From far off at the other end of the semicircle, he heard Pete shout, “Leave a marker, Chuck! Get going!”

The voice echoed over the land, coming up out of the dispersing mist like the voice of a ghost. Chuck quickly removed his shirt and dropped it to the slate.

“I’m leaving my shirt,” he yelled. “My shirt, Pete!”

“Right-o,” the shout came back. “We’ll find it. Get going.”

“Let’s go,” Chuck said to Arthur.

They moved off the slate into the thick growth. Chuck stumbled forward eagerly, anxious to catch up with Masterson and his prisoners. He ignored the plants that tore at his exposed chest. His excitement mounted as the footprints grew clearer. The growth was thinning now, the land becoming strewn with loose rocks. The mist still clung to their waists, but it had cleared considerably, and he could see a sheer, high cliff in the distance, sitting across their line of approach like a gigantic flat tombstone. As they got closer to the cliff, Chuck saw that it was broken by a ledge some fifty feet from the ground, giving the appearance of a crude step cut into its face. The bottom of the cliff was strewn with huge boulders that formed a labyrinthine wall where the cliff met the land.

“What do you think?” Arthur asked.

“I don’t know,” Chuck said. “He may have skirted the boulders and the cliff.”

“Maybe. The ground looks pretty rugged, though.”

“Yeah. What do you think?”

“I think he’s holed up among those boulders at the bottom of the cliff.”

“Let’s hope not.”

“Be a heck of a job to get him out if he is. Especially with him holding Denise and Dr. Dumar.”

Chuck glanced over his shoulder, hoping that Pete and Dr. Perry had spotted his shirt. “We’ll have help soon,” he said. “That should make the job easier.”

“Ever try to get a gopher out of its hole?” Arthur asked.

“No.”

“It’s a tough job. An almost impossible job.”

“Well,” Chuck said, “Masterson isn’t a gopher.” Arthur chuckled softly. “More a rat, I would say.” Chuck smiled with him, then laid a hand on his powerful arm. “Let’s get a little closer. Keep low.”

They dropped down low to their knees, walking in a half-crouch. They hadn’t traveled three feet when a booming voice shouted, “Don’t move another inch or I’ll shoot the girl!”