d in
the name of Pawnee Brown.

"Ai! Pawnee Brown!" cried Dick, and at once the leader of the land
boomers came to a halt.

"What is it, Arbuckle?" he asked kindly.

"My father is missing, and I have every reason to fear that he has
tumbled into an opening at the summit of yonder rocks."

"That's bad, lad. Missing? Since when?"

Dick's story was soon told, and Pawnee Brown at once agreed to go up to
the opening and see if anything could be done. "It's the Devil's
Chimney," he explained. "If he went over into it I'm afraid he's a
goner."

A lariat hung from the pommel of the scout's saddle, and this he took in
hand as he dismounted. Soon he stood by the edge of the black opening,
while Dick again waved the lantern.

"You and the dunce can lower me by the lariat. I don't believe the
opening is more than fifty feet deep," said Pawnee Brown.

The lariat was quickly adjusted around the edge of a smooth rock, and
with his foot in a noose and the lantern in hand, the scout was lowered
into the depths of the opening.

Down and down he went, the light finding nothing but bare, rocky wall to
fall upon. Presently the lowering process ceased.

"We have reached the end of the lariat," called out Dick.

Hardly had he spoken when a fearful thing happened. There was a snap and
a whirr, and Dick and Pumpkin went flat on their backs, while ten feet
of the lariat whirled loosely over their heads.

The improvised rope had broken.

"Gone!" gasped Dick. "Merciful heavens!"

He scrambled up and looked over the edge of the opening. The lantern had
been dashed into a thousand pieces, and all was dark below.

"Pawnee Brown!" he cried, and Pumpkin joined in with a cry which was
fairly a shriek.

The opening remained as silent as a tomb. Again and again both called
out. Then Dick turned to his companion.

"This is awful, Pumpkin. Something must be done. I shall mount his mare
and ride back to camp and get help. For all I know to the contrary both
my father and Pawnee Brown are lying dead below."

"I shan't stay here alone," shivered the half-witted boy. Then, before
Dick could stop him, he set off at the top of his speed, yelling
discordantly as he went.

"Poor fool, he might have ridden with me," thought Dick.

He was already rushing down to the trail. Now he remembered that he had
heard a strange noise down where Pawnee Brown's beautiful mare, Bonnie
Bird, had been tethered--a noise reaching him just before the lariat h