“I don’t believe that will happen,” remarked Tom.  “The diamond makers, if the white thing had anything to do with them, have given us a warning, and I think they’ll at least wait until morning to see how we heed it.”

“We aren’t going to heed it!” burst out Mr. Jenks.  “I’m going to go right ahead and find that cave where they make diamonds!”

“And we’re with you!” exclaimed Tom.  “We’ll have a good fire going the rest of the night, and that may keep intruders away.  In the morning we’ll begin our search, and we’ll go up the trail where we saw the white figure.”

A big pile of wood had been collected for the fire, and Tom now piled some logs and branches on the blaze.  It would last for some time now, and the adventurers, still talking of the “ghost” went back into the tent.  It was over an hour before they all got to sleep again, and Mr. Jenks and Mr. Damon took turns in getting up once or twice during the remainder of the night to replenish the fire.

Morning dawned without anything further having occurred to disturb them, and, after a hearty breakfast, to which Tom added some fish he caught in a nearby mountain stream, they set off up the trail on Phantom Mountain.

They had left their tent standing, as they proposed making that spot their headquarters until they located the cave they were seeking.  What their course would be after that would depend on the circumstances.

If they had expected to have an easy task locating the cavern in which Mr. Jenks had seen diamonds made, the adventurers were disappointed.  All that day they tramped up and down the mountain, looking for some secret entrance, but none was disclosed.  The higher they went up the great peak, the fainter became the trail, until, at length it vanished completely.

But this was not to be wondered at, since it was on solid rock, in which no footsteps would leave an impression.

“They never brought you up here in a wagon, Mr. Jenks,” decided Tom, when he saw how steep the place was.

“I’m inclined to think so myself,” admitted the diamond man.  “They must have reached the cave from some other way.  As a matter of fact, I walked some distance after getting out of the vehicle, before we got to the cavern.  But, even at that, I don’t believe we came this way.”

“Yet the phantom was here,” persisted Tom, “and I’m convinced that the cave is in this neighborhood.  It’s up to us to find it!”

But they searched the remainder of that day in vain, and as night was coming on, they made their way back to the camp.  As Tom, who was in the lead, approached the tent, he saw something black fastened to the entrance.

“Hello!” he cried.  “Some one’s been here.  That wasn’t on the tent when he left this morning.”

“What is it?” asked Mr. Damon.

“A black piece of paper, written on with white ink,” replied the lad.  He was reading it, and, as he perused it a look of surprise came over his face.