University, 
 
 Souther 
 
 Librar 
 
 FRANK 
 
 MWELL'S 
 TRIP WEST
 
 THE LIBRARY- 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 EDWIN CORLE 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 JEAN CORLE
 
 ' Like a cat he leaped aside, and the blade of the knife in Jack Darrol's 
 hand was driven into the wall." (kee page iso)
 
 Frank Merriwell's Trip West 
 
 BY 
 
 BURT L. STANDISH 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "Frank Merriwell's School Days," "Frank Merriwell's Chums,'* 
 "Frank Merriwell's Foes," etc. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER, 
 
 604-8 SOUTH WASHINGTON SQUARE.
 
 Copyright, 1902 
 By STREET & SMITH 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Trip West
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PACK 
 
 I In a Great City . . . . . 
 II In the Cab . . . . . 
 Ill After the Accident .... 
 IV The Bogus Telegram .... 
 V Hans at the Theater .... 
 
 VI A Frightful Peril 
 
 VIP -Struck Down 
 
 VHP -A Captive 
 
 I& The Mad Dog . . . . . 
 
 X By Fire and Water 
 
 XI Out of the River 
 
 XII At Police Headquarters .... 
 XIII Between Heaven and Earth 
 XIV The Enemy Unmasked .... 
 XV De Lancey Duncan .... 
 
 XVI The Wreck 
 
 XVII Escape and Pursuit .... 
 
 XVIII In Spriggsboro 
 
 XIX Into Chicago 
 
 XX Playing the Shadow .... 
 XXI Left to the Flames .... 
 XXII A Strange Girl . . . . 
 XXIII A New Danger 
 
 2035375
 
 fc CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PACK 
 
 XXIV A Temperance Drink . . . .112 
 
 XXV The Italian Count . . . . 116 
 
 XXVI A Cunning Follower . . . .121 
 
 XXVII A Note of Warning .... 126 
 
 XXVIII Between Two Fires . . , .130 
 
 XXIX Clearing Up 135 
 
 XXX "Mr. Hard Pill" 140 
 
 XXXI The Train Wreckers .... 145 
 
 XXXII Left! 150 
 
 XXXIII Mysterious Explosions . . . 155 
 
 XXXIV The Experimenter 160 
 
 XXXV The Stampede 165 
 
 XXXVI Splitting the Herd 170 
 
 XXXVII A Ranch Dance . . .176 
 
 XXXVIII More Trouble 181 
 
 XXXIX Frank Overhears a Plot . . . 186 
 XL In the Herders' Hut . . . .191 
 
 XLI Edna 198 
 
 XLII A Story and a Mystery .... 203 
 XLIII Discovery of the Ring . . . 209 
 
 XLIV A Dauntless Boy 214 
 
 XLV A Gentleman from France . . . 224 
 XLVI The Professor's Troubles . . . 233 
 
 XLVII Parson Peaceful 238 
 
 XLVIII In the Mine 243 
 
 XLIX Held at Bay 252 
 
 L The Mystery Explained .... 258
 
 Frank MerriwelTs Trip West 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN A GREAT CITY. 
 
 A sudden and unexpected stroke of apolexy had been 
 the cause of the death of Asher Dow Merriwell, Frank 
 Merriwell's uncle and guardian. 
 
 There were a few clauses in the will which came as a 
 surprise to Frank, even though he had known his uncle 
 to be somewhat original and peculiar. 
 
 Mr. Merriwell had desired a simple funeral, without 
 ostentatious display, to be held in the old mansion that 
 had been his home, and it was his request that nothing but 
 a small marble slab be erected at his grave, bearing no 
 inscription save his name, the date of his birth, and the 
 date of his death. 
 
 As he believed Frank the relative most closely con- 
 nected to him by ties of blood, and as he loved the boy 
 as if Frank were his own son, he bequeathed him every- 
 thing of which he died possessed. 
 
 But he forbade Frank to wear mourning or to make any 
 prolonged display of grief; and he directed the boy to 
 leave Fardale Military Academy, which he had attended 
 so long, as related in other volumes of this series, and 
 begin a series of travels through the United States and 
 other countries. In order for the boy to derive the 
 greatest benefit possible from his travels, continuing his 
 studies meanwhile, Mr. Merriwell desired that he be ac- 
 companied by a competent guardian and instructor, and 
 made the request that Professor Horace Orman Tyler 
 Scotch, of Fardale Academy generally known among 
 the cadets as "Hot" Scotch, on account of his fiery-red
 
 8 In a Great City, 
 
 hair and peppery temper should become Frank's guard- 
 ian and companion. 
 
 Further than this, that Frank might thoroughly enjoy 
 himself during his travels, Mr. Merriwell expressed a 
 desire that he should take along a friend and comrade 
 from the academy, for whose expenses a provision was 
 made in the will. 
 
 It happened that Mr. Merriwell had met Hans Dunner- 
 wust, and thoroughly enjoyed the odd ways of Frank's 
 comical little Dutch friend, and he expressed a desire that 
 Hans be the first to accompany Frank. At the same time, 
 he gave Frank permission to choose another companion 
 to fill Hans' place at the end of three months from the 
 setting out on their travels, and provided that he might 
 make such an exchange every three months while his 
 journey over the world continued. 
 
 What boy is not possessed of a desire to travel to see 
 the world ? What boy has not dreamed of the wonders 
 of the great cities, majestic mountains, mighty riv- 
 ers, and vast oceans? What boy has not longed 
 to behold the marvels of our own land, the strange 
 things and people to be seen in tropical countries, 
 the inhabitants, animal and human, of the far 
 North and the far South? What boy has not 
 fancied himself on the boundless western prairies, amid 
 the mountains, sailing over tumultuous oceans, gliding 
 across the placid bosom of the blue Mediterranean, drift- 
 ing down the Red Sea, and bounding over the Indian 
 Ocean? What boy has not contemplated the delights of 
 visiting the countries of the Old World, of beholding 
 London, Paris, Rome, St. Petersburg, Constantinople, 
 and other great cities across the ocean? 
 
 Night after night Frank Merriwell dreamed of these 
 things. He dreamed of sailing into the frozen North ; of 
 being amid the convicts of Siberia; of fighting tigers 
 and killing elephants in India; of pursuing the ostrich 
 across vast deserts, where, in the blue distance, long 
 camel trains could be seen crawling snail-like along; of 
 tramping through African forests, surrounded and as- 
 sailed by deadly dangers; of seeing South America and 
 Australia, and of coming safely home at last. 
 
 It must not be imagined that Frank felt no grief at the
 
 In a Great City. 9 
 
 death of his uncle, for Asher Merriwell had been like a 
 father to the lad, and Frank had a heart that was tender 
 and affectionate, as well as tender and true. 
 
 But Asher Merriwell had forbidden a display of grief, 
 and the boy resolved to respect this expressed desire of the 
 deceased. Asher Merriwell had directed that Frank 
 leave Fardale Academy at once, and start upon his travels 
 through the United States, and little time was wasted in 
 doing this. , 
 
 It was necessary that Professor Scotch should be ap- 
 pointed guardian of Frank, and this matter was not de- 
 layed. 
 
 As Mr. Merriwell's will provided that Professor Scotch 
 should be well remunerated for his duties, and every ex- 
 pense of travel was to be paid from the fortune left to 
 Frank, the little professor was more than glad to resign 
 his position at Fardale and enter without delay upon his 
 new duties. 
 
 And so, after a lapse of time necessary to make all 
 arrangements, Frank started for New York City, where he 
 was to join Professor Scotch and Hans Dunnerwust. 
 They were to meet at the Grand Central Station, and 
 everything had been arranged, so it seemed there could be 
 no mistake. 
 
 It was at dusk of a late October day that Frank found 
 himself leaving a train at the Grand Central. Dressed in 
 a suit of brown clothes, with stout but stylish shoes on his 
 feet, a brown soft hat on his head, and with an alligator- 
 skin traveling bag suspended at his side by a strap over 
 his shoulder, he stepped briskly down the long platform 
 that ran up between the trains, looking the picture of a 
 handsome, alert, up-to-date nineteenth century youth. 
 
 "Keb, sir, keb !" 
 
 "Have a carriage, sir?" 
 
 "This way, sir this way!" 
 
 "Baggage, sir baggage !" 
 
 A line of hackmen assailed him, shouting and gesticu- 
 lating, but he passed on, gazing to the right and left for 
 the professor and Hans. 
 
 He looked into the waiting-room, but the persons he 
 sought were not there, and he was turning away in disap- 
 pointment when he felt a touch on the shoulder.
 
 io In a Great City. 
 
 Turning quickly, the blue-white glare of the electric 
 lamps showed him a medium-sized man, who wore a soft 
 felt hat, the brim of which was slouched over his eyes. 
 The man was plainly dressed in black, and a full black 
 beard concealed the expression of his face. 
 
 "Excuse me," said the man, in a repressed tone of 
 voice. "I think from your appearance that you are the 
 young man I am looking for." 
 
 "How is that?" asked Frank, instantly on his guard, 
 for he did not intend to be snared by a sharper. 
 
 "Your name is Frank Merriwell, is it not ?" 
 
 "It is, sir." 
 
 "I thought you answered the description give me." 
 
 "Given you by whom ?" 
 
 "By a German or Dutch lad by the name of Dunner- 
 wust." 
 
 Frank's suspicions grew. 
 
 "Why should he give you a description of me?" 
 
 "So I could meet you here." 
 
 "Why didn't he meet me himself?" 
 
 "An unfortunate accident prevented that." 
 
 "An accident?" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 "What kind of an accident?" 
 
 "A very serious one, I am afraid." 
 
 Despite himself, Frank began to feel somewhat alarmed, 
 for the man's manner was sincere and convincing. 
 
 "To whom did this accident happen ?" asked the boy. 
 
 "To your guardian." 
 
 "Professor Scotch?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "What could have happened to the professor ?" 
 
 "He was struck by a cable car on Broadway, and " 
 
 "Killed?" cried Frank, in horror. "Tell me the truth! 
 Was he killed?" 
 
 "No, but he was seriously injured perhaps fatally. 
 The gripman saw him, but not in time to stop the car be- 
 fore it struck the professor, who was knocked down and 
 dragged a considerable distance. He was taken up in 
 an unconscious state, and has remained thus ever since, 
 except for one or two brief intervals of consciousness." 
 
 Frank Merriwell was shocked, stunned, stupefied. He
 
 In a Great City. II 
 
 stood staring at the man as if he did not fully understand 
 what had happened. It required some moments for him 
 to recover sufficiently to gasp : 
 
 "This is terrible!" 
 
 It seemed very natural that Professor Scotch, who had 
 passed so many years at Fardale that he must have be- 
 come quite unused to the hustle and bustle of a great city, 
 should be knocked down and injured by a cable car, for 
 Frank had read in the New York papers of the many 
 persons who had met with accidents of this sort. 
 
 Somehow, Frank's suspicions were banished. This 
 man knew him by description, knew his name, knew of 
 Professor Scotch and Hans Dunnerwust, and must have 
 been aware that they were to meet at the Grand Central 
 Station at the hour of Frank's arrival. How could he 
 know all these things and be a rascal and an impostor? 
 
 "Why didn't Hans meet me here ?" Frank finally asked* 
 
 "He has not left Professor Scotch since the professor 
 was hurt." 
 
 This seemed natural. 
 
 "And you were sent to meet me?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. I did not know as I would be successful, 
 but Hans Dunnerwust gave me a very good description 
 of you, and, as he knew on which train you were to arrive, 
 I took the chances. I watched all the passengers as they 
 came down the platform, and you happened to be the only 
 lad who was unaccompanied. I followed you, and I saw 
 by your movements that you were looking for some one. 
 Then I ventured to speak." 
 
 "Take me to the professor without delay!" 
 
 "All right, my lad," came briskly from the hidden lips 
 of the black-bearded man. "This way. I knew you would 
 be in a hurry, and I had this carriage wait." 
 
 It was a closed cab. Frank entered, the stranger fol- 
 lowed, the door swung to, the driver whipped up his 
 horses, and away they went. 
 
 The man took a seat opposite Frank, and, as it was now 
 quite dark, he could be seen but indistinctly by the glare 
 of the street lamps. 
 
 Not a word had passed between the black-bearded 
 stranger and the driver as Frank and the stranger entered
 
 12 In a Great City. 
 
 the cab, yet, the moment the door was closed, the driver 
 whipped up and drove at a high rate of speed. 
 
 This seemed natural to Frank, who fancied the driver 
 had been directed to drive that way by the black-bearded 
 stranger, who had given every direction previous to the 
 arrival of the train which brought the boy to the Grand 
 Central Station. 
 
 The cab bounced and rumbled over the paved streets, 
 passing under the structure of an elevated railroad, and 
 then, in a few moments, passing under yet another such 
 structure, upon which, from the cab window, Frank 
 caught a glimpse of a swiftly moving, lighted train. 
 
 There were fruit-venders at street corners, with thein 
 flaring torches lighting up their dark faces, and their 
 whistling peanut heaters sending up tiny spouts of steam. 
 People were moving to and fro on the sidewalks, cabs, 
 carts, and cars were flitting past, and the roar of a great 
 city rose on every side of Frank, who was so stunned 
 by the terrible news the stranger had brought him that 
 he scarcely realized he was in New York. 
 
 The stranger was saying nothing. 
 
 "Where was the professor taken?" Frank asked, pres- 
 ently. 
 
 "To Bellevue Hospital," answered the stranger. 
 
 "And is this the quickest and shortest way there?" 
 
 "Most certainly." 
 
 The man did not seem inclined to talk a great deal. 
 
 Looking from the window, Frank saw the carts and 
 cars seem to grow less and disappear from the streets, 
 saw the people also disappear till no more than an occa- 
 sional pedestrian was observed, saw the streets grow 
 darker and more disreputable in aspect, and, finally, be- 
 came uneasy and suspicious. The stranger drew the 
 shade at one of the windows. 
 
 "Why do you do that ?" demanded Frank. 
 
 "The light from the street lamps hurts my eyes," was 
 the explanation, as the man deliberately drew the other, 
 inclosing them in dense darkness. 
 
 In a moment all Frank's suspicions returned with a 
 rush, and he believed all was not as it should be. 
 
 "I must have one or both of these shades up," he said, 
 is he reached to raise it.
 
 In a Great City. 13 
 
 "And I say they must both remain down," returned 
 the man, in a low, harsh tone of voice. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 A strong hand suddenly fastened on Frank, and these 
 words reached his ear: 
 
 "I mean that you are in my power, Frank Merawell.' r
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 IN THE CAB. 
 
 Although thus suddenly attacked, Frank instantly grap- 
 pled with his assailant, determined to fight for liberty. 
 
 As my old readers know, Frank had been the cham- 
 pion all-around athlete at Fardale Academy, and, boy 
 though he was, he was no mean antagonist. 
 
 This the man soon discovered. 
 
 A hand that had fixed itself on Frank's throat seemed 
 crushing the boy's windpipe. He could not breathe, and 
 he realized that he must obtain a breath very soon or 
 perish from suffocation. 
 
 With all the energy he possessed, Frank tore at that 
 hand, and he succeeded in releasing his throat. 
 
 He tried to cry out, but the terrible pressure seemed to 
 have robbed him of the power of uttering a sound other 
 than that made by his hoarse gasping for breath. 
 
 The driver had whipped up his horses, and the cab was 
 rocking and swaying and bouncing along a dark and 
 wretchedly paved street. 
 
 With all his strength Frank forced himself upward, 
 striking with all his strength at his unknown enemy. 
 
 That blow landed fairly in the man's face, and he ut- 
 tered a fierce exclamation. 
 
 But he did not strike back. 
 
 Then, in striking at the man again, Frank's hand caught 
 in the fellow's beard, which came from the face it had 
 served to disguise, revealing to the lad that the beard was 
 false. 
 
 But it was densely dark within the cab, and this un- 
 masking did not serve to show the youth the face that was 
 hidden behind the black beard. 
 
 It was a horrible battle, and Frank knew not but that at 
 any moment the man might resort to a deadly weapon 
 which would end the struggle suddenly.
 
 In the Cab. 15 
 
 The man and boy thrashed about within the cab, and 
 the driver must have known the battle was taking place. 
 That the driver was in the plot with the man who had 
 worn the black false beard was certain, else he must have 
 stopped to investigate. 
 
 Once more the hand came up and gripped Frank's 
 throat. The boy tried to tear it away, but it clung there 
 tenaciously. 
 
 "Now, you whelp ! I have you !" 
 
 Frank seemed to hear these words spoken at a great 
 distance. They were not spoken ; they were snarled, as 
 the wind sometimes snarls amid the rigging of a ship at 
 sea. 
 
 They crashed against the window and smashed out the 
 glass, which let in a grateful bit of air, the place having 
 become suffocating. 
 
 Then Frank uttered a cry : 
 
 "Help! help!" 
 
 The man struck him in the face, and the bravely fight- 
 ing lad returned the blow with interest. 
 
 Then Frank flung himself against the door, trying to 
 burst it open, but in this he did not succeed. 
 
 The man was panting now. Plainly he was astounded 
 by the battle the lad was making. He would have been 
 more astounded had Frank Merriwell been able to get in 
 a good square blow, straight from the shoulder. But in 
 that cramped space Frank was at a great disadvantage. 
 Already he felt that he was capable of whipping his as- 
 sailant in an open space, but he feared that those ringers 
 would again close on his throat. 
 
 His fears were well founded, for, suddenly the man 
 had him by the windpipe. 
 
 "This time you can't break my hold," he cried. 
 
 That was true. Frank struggled madly to tear the 
 hand away, but he could not do so. He knew those 
 fingers were bringing about his death, but it was useless 
 to struggle. Again he heard the roaring and saw the 
 bursting lights. And then, amid the roaring, he seemed 
 to hear the far-away shouts of a multitude and the clang- 
 ing of a bell. 
 
 Clang! clang! clang!
 
 1 6 In the Cab. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the sound, till it was close at 
 hand, mingled with a frightful uproar. 
 
 "Clear the way !" 
 
 He fancied he heard the cry, even as he sunk helpless 
 on the seat, overcome by the hand of the unknown 
 enemy.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AFTER THE ACCIDENT. 
 
 Clang! clang! clang! 
 
 Faint and far away seemed the sounds, yet full of wild 
 warning and alarm. 
 
 Frank Merriwell seemed to feel himself floating away 
 on a bed of flowers, from which arose a delightful per- 
 fume away, away, away! 
 
 Of a sudden the flowers dropped from beneath him 
 with a great crash, as it seemed, and he plunged into a 
 pit of utter darkness nothingness oblivion. 
 
 When Frank recovered consciousness he found him-* 
 self stretched on his back upon a sort of cot, and he 
 realized he was still being conveyed along the poorly 
 paved streets by some kind of a vehicle. 
 
 Near his head sat a man who was serenely smoking a 
 cigar, as Frank saw by the light which shone in now and 
 then from the street lamps. 
 
 Whether this man was his late assailant or not was a 
 question that troubled Frank somewhat at first. 
 
 Surely they were not in the cab. The rear end of the 
 conveyance they were in was wide open, admitting light 
 and air. 
 
 The light of the street lamps showed Frank that the 
 face of his unknown companion was youthful and beard- 
 less ; but the mar. did not seem to be dressed the same as 
 the one who had been disguised by the false beard. 
 
 That he had been unconscious for a period of time the 
 boy was aware. 
 
 How long had he been in such a condition ? 
 
 Frank asked himself the question, but there was very 
 little satisfaction in that, for he could not answer it. 
 
 "What has happened ?" 
 
 He spoke the words aloud, causing his companion to 
 look down at him and observe: 
 
 "So you're coming round, young man? Well, you
 
 1 8 After the Accident. 
 
 didn't seem to be very much injured, although the smash- 
 up was a bad one." 
 
 "The smash-up? What smash-up? Tell me what has 
 happened! Where am I being taken?" 
 
 Frank would have risen to a sitting position, but the 
 man placed a hand on his breast, and held him down, 
 saying, sharply: 
 
 "Now, don't get excited, as it is quite unnecessary, and 
 it may do you some injury." 
 
 "How how " 
 
 "Keep calm, I say. You were in a smash-up, and you 
 were picked up in an unconscious condition. How se- 
 verely you are injured I was unable to tell by a hasty ex- 
 amination, so you are being taken to the hospital." 
 
 "What hospital?" 
 
 "Bellevue." 
 
 The thought that this might be a continuance of the 
 trick that had been worked upon him flashed through the 
 lad's head. 
 
 But Frank Merriwell was not an excitable lad, and the 
 presence of danger made him calm and ready-witted on 
 almost any occasion. He lay back and considered what it 
 was best to do. As a result of his act, he soon came to 
 the belief that he had really been in some kind of smash- 
 tip, and was lying at that moment in an ambulance that 
 was taking him to a hospital. His companion was a 
 young surgeon from the hospital. 
 
 It is not strange that Frank was eager to know just 
 what had transpired. 
 
 He questioned the surgeon, who explained that the cab 
 had been struck by a fire engine, and smashed. The 
 driver was not injured, and it was surprising that Frank 
 had escaped being crushed. He had been picked up in 
 an unconscious condition. 
 
 Now Frank understood the meaning of the clanging he 
 had seemed to hear while that hand of the unknown man 
 was fastened on his throat. It had been no fantasy of his 
 roaring brain, but it was the warning gong of a fire en- 
 gine driven at full speed. Without doubt, the engine had 
 turned a corner suddenly and crashed into the cab in a 
 most unexpected manner. The cab had been wrecked.
 
 After the Accident. 19 
 
 and one horse was killed. Truly, Frank's escape from 
 death was most surprising and providential. 
 
 But the man who had snared him his unknown enemy ! 
 What of him? 
 
 "Was no one else injured ?" asked the boy. 
 
 "No one," replied the surgeon. "Why, the engine 
 didn't even stop ; it went right on to the fire." 
 
 "But but the man who was with me in the cab " 
 
 "The man with you?" 
 
 "Yes; what of him?" 
 
 "Why, the driver said you were the only occupant of 
 the cab." 
 
 "Oh, he did!" 
 
 The young surgeon did not mistake the inflection of 
 Frank's voice, and he quickly asked : 
 
 "Do you mean to say there was some one with you ?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "A man a stranger." 
 
 "Well, it is singular the driver knew nothing of it." 
 
 "He did." 
 
 "And you mean to say he lied when he stated that you 
 were the only occupant of the cab ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Then what became of the other man ?" 
 
 "That is something I'd like to know myself," said 
 Frank, heartily. "Nothing would please me better than to 
 know just what became of him. It seems that he escaped 
 without injury." 
 
 "He must have escaped thus; but I don't understand 
 why nothing was seen of him." 
 
 Frank understood this well enough, but he fancied it 
 might be best to say nothing further in regard to the 
 stranger. It was plain the man had not been killed or 
 severely injured in the accident, and he had not lost a 
 moment in getting away. 
 
 Frank Merriwell's unknown enemy was at large, and 
 the boy felt that they were destined to meet again. 
 
 "When we do," thought Frank, "all I ask is that I may 
 know him. It seems that I should recognize his voice." 
 
 Then came another thought to Frank, and he quickly 
 asked :
 
 2O After the Accident. 
 
 "Can you tell me if there is a patient by the name of 
 Professor Horace Scotch in Bellevue?" 
 
 "Do you think I keep run of every patient brought in ?" 
 asked the young surgeon, rather scornfully. 
 
 "I thought it possible this case might have fallen be- 
 neath your notice." 
 
 "Well, I guess not." 
 
 "Do you know if there is a patient in Bellevue who was 
 knocked down and injured by a Broadway cable car?" 
 
 "There's no such patient there now." 
 
 "You're sure of it?" 
 
 "Dead sure." 
 
 "Then, can't you let me out right away ? See, I am not 
 injured. I was no more than stunned, and I am all right 
 now." 
 
 "That may be true, but I've taken -you into this am- 
 bulance, and you will have to go to the hospital." 
 
 Frank soon found it was useless to protest, and so he 
 submitted to the unavoidable. 
 
 The ambulance soon reached the hospital, and Frank 
 was removed to a room where he was inspected by two 
 surgeons, who could discover no injuries further than a 
 few bruises and abrasions. Within fifteen minutes after 
 entering the hospital, the youth was at liberty to leave it 
 
 He made sure that Professor Scotch was not there, 
 and then he took his departure, thoroughly thankful that 
 he had come through the affair so well. 
 
 Walking west as far as Second avenue, he then turned 
 south, and soon found himself on Twenty-third street, 
 where he took a west-bound car, requesting the conductor 
 to let him off at Broadway and Fifth avenue. 
 
 Frank had purchased a guidebook to the United States 
 and Canada, and he had studied the map of New York 
 City till he had familiarized himself with it, and his 
 knowledge began to prove of value. 
 
 The boy knew well enough when Madison square was 
 reached, although he had never been in New York be- 
 fore. The lights, the trees, the fountains, the moving 
 masses of humanity, the swiftly gliding Broadway cable 
 cars, and the crush of cabs, carriages, cars, and human 
 beings where Broadway and Fifth avenue cross served 
 to make his blood flow more swiftly in his veins, and
 
 After the Accident. 21 
 
 gave him a feeling that the world was grand and beau- 
 tiful, and life was well worth living. 
 
 Frank left the car, made his way easily and readily 
 through the mass of carriages and human beings, and 
 reached the corner of the sidewalk, where he paused to 
 look around. 
 
 For all of his recent perilous adventure, a feeling of ela^ 
 tion had seized upon Frank. The roar of the city was 
 music in his ears. Here was life throbbing, pulsing life. 
 He watched the big policeman piloting squads of ladie^ 
 across the dangerous intersection of Fifth avenue and 
 Broadway, he watched the changing colored lights which 
 formed lettered advertisements high up on a dead wall, 
 and over at the Sixth avenue station he saw two elevated 
 trains pass in opposite directions. 
 
 Turning to walk up Broadway, Frank found himself al- 
 most at the very door of the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He 
 had seen pictures of its pillared front, and, somehow, from 
 the outside the place was disappointing to him. 
 
 But it was at the Fifth Avenue he had decided to stop 
 while in New York, so he entered briskly and unhesi- 
 tatingly. As he did so he ran plump into a fat, round- 
 faced, comical-looking boy, who staggered back a step, 
 exclaiming : 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas!"
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE BOGUS TELEGRAM. 
 
 "Hans!" 
 
 "Vrankie !" 
 
 Two surprised and delighted lads they were, for the fat 
 boy was Hans Dunnerwust. 
 
 "Dunder!" gasped the Dutch lad, his eyes bulging. 
 "Vos dot you, Vrankie ?" 
 
 "I rather fancy it is," laughed Frank, holding out his 
 hand. 
 
 "How you peen in New York alretty yet ?" asked Hans, 
 stupidly, making no attempt to take the proffered hand. 
 
 "A regular railroad train brought me," answered 
 Frank, as he got hold of the Dutch lad's pudgy fingers 
 and gave them a squeeze that 'made Hans cringe. 
 
 "Veil, uf dot don'd peat der pand !" 
 
 "Where is the professor?" 
 
 "In his room der elefator up." 
 
 "Take me there." 
 
 But Frank was forced to take hold of Hans and turn 
 the boy about before they could get started, and the 
 Dutch lad continued to mutter : 
 
 "Veil, uf dot don'd peat der pand !" 
 
 Down the long corridor they passed, with well-dressed, 
 prosperous-appearing men sitting about on sofas, reading, 
 chatting, smoking, and other prosperous-looking men 
 standing in groups to talk or moving briskly up or down 
 the tiled floor. 
 
 Hans succeeded in finding the elevator, after some 
 trouble, and they were soon in the car. 
 
 "Which floor ?" asked the elevator boy, as the car glided 
 upward, with Hans clinging to himself with both hands 
 and looking scared. 
 
 "Vot?" asked the Dutch lad, dully. 
 
 "Which landing?" 
 
 "How you mean, ain'd id? Dis don'd peen any 
 schooner, I pet you. Uf she vas, shust run her up to det 
 pest wharf der ranch in."
 
 The Bogus Telegram. 23 
 
 "Do you know which floor you want to get off at?" 
 came the sharp question. 
 
 "Yaw." 
 
 "Then which is it?" 
 
 "Der vloor Brofessor Scotch has a room on, py 
 shimmy !" 
 
 "Well, which is that?" 
 
 "Veil, uf you ask me dot, I pelief you don'd know mein 
 pizness. Vot you peen here vor, ain'd id?" 
 
 Frank was enjoying this thoroughly; but when the 
 elevator boy applied tc him, he was unable to be of any 
 service, as he had failed to look on the register to see 
 which room the professor had taken. This made it 
 necessary for them to descend to the main floor, where 
 Frank visited the office, and soon found the name of 
 H. O. T. Scotch on the register, followed by the number 
 of the room taken by the professor. 
 
 This time there was no trouble in being let off at the 
 right floor, and they were soon at the door of the room 
 taken by the professor and Hans. 
 
 Hans flung open the door, bursting into the room like 
 a cyclone, as he shouted : 
 
 "Brofessor ! brofessor ! uf dot Vrankie Merrivell don'd 
 peen here alretty yet !" 
 
 Frank followed closely behind Hans, crying : 
 
 "All on deck and ready for action, professor!" 
 
 Professor Scotch was so astonished that he came near 
 falling off his chair to the floor. 
 
 "Eh ? Bless my soul !" he exclaimed, staring at Frank, 
 and dropping the guide to New York City, which he had 
 been reading. "Bless my soul !" he repeated, as he tried 
 to get on his feet, but fell back limply in his chair. "Is it 
 really you?" 
 
 "Sure as you're alive!" was Frank's hearty assertion, 
 as he grasped the little man's hand, giving it a terrific 
 squeeze, which brought a smothered roar of pain from the 
 little man's lips. 
 
 "Then you changed your mind?" said the professor. 
 
 "Changed my mind? In what way?" 
 
 "You came a day ahead of the time you finally decided 
 on." 
 
 "Not much. This is the day we agreed on, and I ar-
 
 24 The Bogus Telegram. 
 
 rived at the Grand Central just when I said I would, 
 Why weren't you on hand to meet me?" 
 
 "Got your telegram at one-thirty this afternoon." 
 "My telegram ?" 
 
 "Exactly. The telegram stating you could not come 
 until to-morrow. I have it here somewhere. Had 
 barely arrived and settled here before the telegram was 
 delivered. Wondered how you knew I meant to stop 
 at this hotel, as we had made no decision on that matter." 
 Frank's face was decidedly sober, as he said : 
 "Professor, I want to see that telegram." 
 The little man of the fiery hair and big voice bustled 
 around excitedly till he found a Western Union en- 
 velope, from which he extracted the telegram in question, 
 and gave to Frank. It was a regular Western Union 
 telegraph blank, on which was written : 
 
 "PROFESSOR H. O. T. SCOTCH, 
 "Fifth Avenue Hotel, 
 
 New York. City : 
 
 "Business prevents coming to-day. Will be on hand 
 to-morrow at same hour. Meet me then. 
 
 "FRANK MERRIWELL." 
 
 "This telegram is a fake," declared Frank. 
 
 "What's that?" ejaculated the professor. "Do you 
 mean to say you did not send it?" 
 
 "That is just what I mean." 
 
 "But, see, it is postmarked Bloomfield, and it seems 
 regular enough." 
 
 "I see that, but it is none the less a fake and a fraud. 
 It was gotten up to deceive you and keep you from 
 meeting me at the Grand Central Station. As you said, 
 how did I know you meant to stop at this hotel ?" 
 
 Professor Scotch began to prance wildly up and down 
 the carpeted floor. 
 
 "If this was intended for a joke," he thundered, wildly 
 waving his clinched fists in the air; "all I have to say is 
 that it's a very poor joke!" 
 
 "But it was not intended for a joke," declared Frank. 
 
 The professor stopped short, and stared at the lac*-
 
 The Bogus Telegram. 25 
 
 "No joke? No joke? Then what does it mean? Can 
 you tell me that? Will you tell me that?" 
 
 "I can and will. This was the work of a deadly foe 
 to me." 
 
 "What? How? Who?" 
 
 "That is more than I can answer, but I mean to learn 
 the truth, if possible. I have lately had a very narrow 
 escape from the hands of that foe." 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas!" gurgled Hans. "I don'd toldt 
 you so !" 
 
 "This fake telegram," explained Frank, "was intended 
 to keep you from meeting me at the station, and it 
 succeeded ; but I was met there, just the same." 
 
 "By whom?" breathlessly asked the professor. 
 
 "By my mysterious enemy." 
 
 Then Frank explained how he had been ensnared, and 
 how, by means of an accident, he had been saved from 
 the dastardly clutch of his unknown enemy. 
 
 The man and boy listened in amazement and horror. 
 When he had heard the whole story, Professor Scotch 
 collapsed on a chair. 
 
 "Why, who can this enemy be?" he asked, after some 
 moments, which Frank spent in studying the bogus tele- 
 gram. "Who could have put themselves to so much 
 trouble? It must be somebody who knows me some- 
 body who followed me here to this hotel." 
 
 "Exactly so," nodded Frank; "but who it is you have 
 just as good an idea as I. I did have a deadly enemy, 
 but he perished in the fire at Fardale several weeks ago." 
 he continued, referring to Carlos Merriwell, the pretended 
 son of his dead uncle, Asher. "When I left the acad- 
 emy, I did not believe I had anywhere on the face of the 
 earth a foe who desired my life; but it seems that I was 
 mistaken. I have such a foe, and I feel that I must be 
 constantly on my guard against him."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HANS AT THE THEATER. 
 
 Taking everything into consideration, Frank felt that 
 he had cause to be decidedly thankful for the manner in 
 which he had come through his encounter with an un- 
 known and deadly foe, and had afterward found his way 
 directly to the professor and Hans. 
 
 For a long time the three continued to talk of Frank's 
 surprising and mysterious adventure. 
 
 At length, wishing to attend some place of amuse- 
 ment that evening, they prepared for dinner, and des- 
 cended to the dining-room. 
 
 Before sitting down, however, Frank registered and 
 gave his trunk-check to a porter, who agreed to see that 
 the trunk was brought from the station without delay. 
 
 The dining-room was a wonder to Hans, who had 
 never seen anything like it before. All he could do was 
 to faintly gurgle : 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas !" 
 
 But Hans' table manners had been looked after at Far- 
 dale, so, as long as he refrained from talking, he did not 
 draw the attention of the other guests. 
 
 Frank and the professor quietly discussed their plans 
 while eating, but the Dutch boy heard scarcely a word 
 they were saying, he was so absorbed in staring about 
 him. Midway vduring the meal, Hans recovered suffi- 
 ciently to lean across the table and hoarsely whisper: 
 
 "Brofessor ! brofessor ! uf dis don'd peat der pand, al- 
 retty!" 
 
 From that time till the meal was finished, it was with 
 the greatest difficulty that Frank and the professor forced 
 the Dutch boy to keep his enthusiasm bottled up. They 
 could see he was ready to explode, and they knew he 
 was liable to create a sensation if he did so in the dining- 
 room. 
 
 As they left the dining-room, Hans flung his arms
 
 Hans at the Theater. 27 
 
 around the professor, giving the little man a bear-hug 
 that brought a cry of astonishment and alarm from 
 Scotch's lips. 
 
 "Here! here! break away!" laughed Frank, catching 
 Hans by the collar. "What's the matter with you?" 
 
 "Veil, I feel so goot as nefer vas, und I don'd know vot 
 to do mit yourself." 
 
 "Keep cool till we reach our room, or we are liable to 
 be turned out of the hotel, or taken to Ward's Island for 
 lunatics." 
 
 "I don'd toldt you so!" exclaimed Hans, in alarm. 
 "Veil, I don'd like dot pern' took some lunadic vor, und 
 so I vill keep sdill, ain'd id?" 
 
 But when they were safely in their rooms he broke 
 loose, catching the professor about the waist and waltz- 
 ing the little man about till his head swam. 
 
 "Uf we don'd haf some fun dis excursion on, you peen 
 misdaken !" he warbled. 
 
 Then he let go of the professor, who was sent spin- 
 ning into a corner, where he ran his nose against the wall, 
 recoiled from the shock, and sat down heavily on the 
 floor. 
 
 "Vot's der madder, brofessor?" asked Hans, inno- 
 cently. "You hope I ain'd peen drinkin', don'd id?" 
 
 "Look here, confound you!" roared Scotch, as he 
 scrambled to his feet, clinging to his nose with one hand 
 and feeling blindly for Hans with the other ; "you're get- 
 ting altogether too familiar with me altogether too 
 familiar! What you need is a thumping, and I'm feel- 
 ing just like giving you that !" 
 
 He was still dazed and bewildered by the whirling 
 Hans had given him, and he lurched forward toward a 
 figure that seemed lurching to meet him. He put out 
 his hands to grapple with this figure, and, at that mo- 
 ment, Frank Merriwell caught him by the collar, saying 
 sharply : 
 
 "Steady steady, professor! I noticed you took a 
 bottle of wine at dinner, but I didn't think it was enough 
 to make you feel like running through full length 
 mirrors. 
 
 Then the staring professor saw that the figure he had
 
 28 Hans at the Theater. 
 
 been on the point of grapling was his own reflection in 
 a mirror. 
 
 Hans was sitting on a chair, grinning in a jolly way. 
 
 "That whirling rather stirred me up," confessed the 
 professor. "That seemed to make every bit of the wine 
 fly into the top of my head. I think I'd better take a 
 stroll in the open air." 
 
 "Wait a few moments, and we'll all go." 
 
 "Yah. We'll go along to see dot you don'd took no 
 more vine, py shimminy !" 
 
 So Frank and Hans prepared for the street, while the 
 professor bathed his nose in some cool water. 
 
 At length all were ready to go out, and they descended 
 to the first floor, where, arm in arm, the professor and 
 Hans marched down the long corridor, with Frank fol- 
 lowing, and observing that the little man and the fat 
 Dutch lad were regarded with amusement by the men 
 who were moving, standing, or lounging about. 
 
 It was an unusually warm evening for the season, so 
 warm, in fact, that top coats were not required. 
 
 Broadway was thronged with people, and Hans mut- 
 tered : 
 
 "I don'd see how in plazes they all ged along midoucit 
 running somepody indo all der dimes." 
 
 The lights of Madison Square Garden tower gleamed 
 high in the sky, and to the north other lights spelled out 
 in giant letters the name of a brand of cigarettes. Per- 
 sons were weaving to and fro beneath the trees in the 
 square, or were lounging on the benches. The gongs on 
 the cable cars were clanging their warnings to pedes- 
 trians and teams, and the hum and roar that arose on 
 every hand told that they were in the very heart of the 
 metropolis. 
 
 "Which way?" asked Frank. 
 
 "We'll take a stroll down Broadway," said the pro- 
 fessor. 
 
 They had some trouble in running the blockade of cars, 
 trucks, carriages and so forth at Twenty-third street. 
 After trying to get over three times, and being howled at 
 by car drivers and teamsters, Hans was so frightened 
 that Frank and the professor were obliged to drag him 
 across.
 
 Hans at the Theater. 29 
 
 Having reached the other side, the Dutch boy paused 
 to wipe the cold sweat from his face and observe : 
 
 "We don'd nefer been aple to ged back to dot hotel 
 some more!" 
 
 "I don't know as we will, if we have to get you across," 
 laughed Frank. 
 
 They continued their walk down Broadway to Four- 
 teenth street, where they asked a policeman about the 
 theatres, and he directed them to the Fourteenth Street 
 Theatre, where he said there was a "great show going 
 on." 
 
 Hans had never been in a theatre in his life, and nearly 
 all he knew about it was what Ephraim Gallup, a coun- 
 try boy, who had attended Fardale, had told him. 
 Ephraim had visited a theatre once, and he said : 
 
 "I bought a piece of pasteboard of a man they hed shut 
 up in some kind of a cubby-hole, so he didn't have 
 northing but a little fut-square winder ter look out of, 
 and then I went right in. Feller at the door grabbed 
 holt of me, an' he says, says he: 'I want your ticket.' 
 Says I to him, says I : 'I bought this air ticket an' paid 
 fer it, an' you can't take it away from me unless you're 
 bigger'n I be, b'gum !' Then I jest spit right slap on 
 my hands, and I told him to wade right in. But he 
 talked kinder peaceable like, an' seemed like a decent sort 
 of feller arter all, so, kinder thinkin' he might be needful, 
 I let him tear my ticket in two, an' keep half of it fer 
 himself. They let me in on t'other half, but a boy tried 
 to git that away from me. I wouldn't give it up, an' so, 
 seein' he couldn't work the bunkum racket on me, he 
 looked it over some, an' showed me where I was to set 
 down. I sot, an' people kept comin' in till the seats was 
 purty nigh full. Then some fellers down in front that 
 had fiddles an' brass horns, they played something. I 
 kinder reckoned it was to call attention to the big picter 
 that kivered the hull of one end of the room. That was 
 a purty good picter, but I didn't think it wus worth pay- 
 ing fifty cents to see, by gum ! Arter them fellers stopped 
 playin', somebody pulled the picter up out of the way, an* 
 then some folks kem out on a platform, an' went to talkin' 
 'bout somethin' that didn't consarn me nohow, so I got up 
 an' come away."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A FRIGHTFUL PERIL. 
 
 This story of Ephraim's visit to a theatre had been re- 
 peated at Fardale till every lad in the academy was thor- 
 oughly familiar with it, and every one but Hans Dun- 
 nerwust had laughed over it. Hans listened to it re- 
 peatedly, with mouth and ears wide open, but he was 
 unable to discover where the joke came in. However, 
 it had aroused his curiosity, so he was more than eager 
 to visit a theatre. 
 
 They found the Fourteenth Street Theatre without 
 trouble, and the professor bought tickets for them all. 
 
 Their seats were in a very good location, about two- 
 thirds of the way to the front. 
 
 Hans looked around with interest, and he stared at the 
 picture on the curtain in a way that plainly showed he 
 meant to get his money's worth. 
 
 After a short time the orchestra played a piece, and the 
 curtain slid up. 
 
 As soon as this happened, Hans rose and was going to 
 leave. 
 
 Frank and the professor found it difficult to induce 
 the Dutch boy to remain. 
 
 Finally Hans sat down and watched the performance, 
 although he seemed to take little interest in it at first. 
 
 It was a razzle-dazzle sort of a melodrama, however, 
 and it was not long before the Dutch boy began to get ex- 
 cited. 
 
 "Say," he whispered to Frank, "vy don'd dey stop dot 
 veller from dot girl chasin' aroundt, ain'd id? I don'd 
 like dot veller. He peen a scondrel, you pet me your 
 boots !" 
 
 "Keep still," warned Frank. "Watch the play and say 
 nothing." 
 
 "Veil, uf I ain'd surbrised in you!" muttered Hans.
 
 A Frightful Peril. 31 
 
 "Dot peen der first time I efer know you not to sdand ub 
 vor der girls !" 
 
 He relapsed into silence, but not for long. The villain 
 of the play had pursued the heroine out on Brooklyn 
 Bridge, where he grappled with her, and started to fling 
 her from the bridge into the river, whereupon she cried: 
 
 "Help ! help ! Will no one save me from this 
 wretch ?" 
 
 That was more than Hans could stand. 
 
 "You pet your poots !" he shouted, as he jumped up and 
 jerked off his coat. "I peen there britty queek alretty, 
 und I knock der backin' uf dot veller oudt!" 
 
 Down the aisle he rushed, before Frank could get hold 
 of him, and he seemed determined to scramble over the 
 orchestra to the stage. He might have succeeded, but 
 two ushers rushed forward and clutched him, holding 
 him back. 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas !" howled the Dutch lad. "Vot 
 kindt uf a crowd this peen, ain'd id ? Vos you all going 
 to sed still und let dot villain kildt dot girl ?" 
 
 The audience was convulsed with laughter as Hans was 
 hustled up the aisle by the ushers. 
 
 "Come, professor," said Frank, hurriedly catching up 
 Hans' coat. "We must get him out of that before they 
 hand him over to a policeman." 
 
 So they hustled out of the theatre, and found the 
 ushers on the point of delivering the Dutch boy to an 
 officer. Frank immediately protested, and, by giving the 
 ushers half a dollar each and the policeman a small bill on 
 the sly, he succeeded in getting Hans away. 
 
 "Veil," observed Hans, as they found themselves again 
 on the street, "uf dot don'd peat anydings I efer saw pe- 
 fore, you vos a liar !" 
 
 "You came near spending the night in a station house," 
 Frank sharply declared. "Why did you make a fool of 
 yourself?" 
 
 "I don'd peen retty to sed sdill und see any female girl 
 throwed a pridge off py a pig rascal mit a plack mustache 
 und a red neckdie on, dot's vot's der madder mit me." 
 
 Hans was still rather excited, and Frank found it expe- 
 dient to calm him down. 
 
 As it was yet early in the evening, and they did not wish
 
 32 A Frightful Peril. 
 
 to retire to the hotel, it was decided that they should take 
 a ride on the elevated railroad. 
 
 Hans was rather reluctant about doing anything of the 
 sort, fearing the trestle might break and let them come 
 crashing down to the street; but he was finally induced 
 to accompany them up the stairs to the station, and they 
 coaxed him onto the first train that came along. 
 
 This was a Harlem-bound train, and seats were secured 
 midway of the car which they entered. 
 
 Hans held onto the seat, his face being very pale. 
 
 Professor Scotch was not a little nervous, although he 
 tried to conceal the fact. 
 
 For them all it was a novel ride, but Frank enjoyed it 
 the most, as his companions provided great amusement 
 for him. 
 
 It was decided that they should ride to the termination 
 of the elevated road in Harlem, and then come back. 
 
 The curves at Fifty-third street were almost too much 
 for the nerves of Professor Scotch, who wanted to get off 
 at the Fifty-ninth street station and walk back. 
 
 Hans, however, declared that, as they had started in 
 to have some fun with him, he was going to stay on the 
 train and see the thing through. He was beginning to 
 derive some enjoyment from the professor's discomfiture. 
 
 When the great S at One Hundred and Tenth street 
 was reached, and the professor found they were spinning 
 along far above the roofs of the houses, Hans was given 
 a chance to enjoy the terror shown by a very fright- 
 ened man. 
 
 "This is dud-dud-dreadful!" chattered the professor, 
 as the engine spun the long train round the curve and the 
 cars lurched far over. "We're going off the track sure !" 
 
 "Yah!" snorted Hans. "Now you peen britty scat, 
 lin'd id ? Now you don'd haf some fun mit me, I pelief." 
 
 "There should be a law to restrict the speed of this 
 train!" gurgled Scotch. "This is terrible! Where is 
 Frank?" 
 
 But Frank, determined to have an unobstructed view, 
 had stepped out on the platform of the car. As he did 
 so, he noticed a man who was standing with his back to 
 the car, having the brim of his hat slouched over his 
 eyes.
 
 A Frightful Peril. 33 
 
 Frank did not give this man more than a glance, but 
 turned to look over the fields of lights which twinkled be- 
 low. 
 
 To one not familiar with the situation it was decidedly 
 novel and fascinating, and it was not strange that Frank's 
 blood tingled in his veins. 
 
 The guard had stepped into the rear car, and the boy 
 and the strange man were alone on the platform. 
 
 The train struck the upper curve of the S, and Frank 
 leaned over the iron gate to look down. It was a fearful 
 distance to the ground below, and the lad shuddered as 
 he thought of falling from that position. 
 
 "Such a fall would mean instant death," he muttered, 
 aloud. 
 
 Then he felt himself clutched behind, and in his ear 
 these words were hissed : 
 
 "You are right, Frank Merriwell, and down you go!" 
 
 He recognized that sibilant voice; he had heard it be- 
 fore. It was the voice of his unknown foe ! 
 
 The man lifted Frank to hurl him over the gate. But 
 Frank was not the sort of a boy to give up tamely with- 
 out a struggle. 
 
 He clutched at the gate, and he fiercely strove to break 
 the hold of his foe. 
 
 Then Frank found his tongue, and he cried for aid, but 
 the creaking of the iron wheels as they wore harshly 
 around the curve drowned the sound of his cry. 
 
 He was lifted off his feet, and, despite his utmost en- 
 deavor, felt himself being forced over the gate. 
 
 "It's all up with me!" was the thought that flashed 
 through his brain. 
 
 Round the curve the car was dragged, and the straight 
 stretch of track leading to the station at One Hundred 
 and Sixteenth street was struck. 
 
 '^Help !" called Frank. 
 
 "Down you go!" panted the man. 
 
 Then Frank Merriwell was lifted fairly over the gate, 
 on which his hold was broken, he felt himself suspended 
 in the air for an instant. The horror that possessed him 
 seemed to cause his heart to stop beating. 
 
 "Nothing can save me now !" 
 
 He felt that it was useless to cry for help. If help
 
 34 A Frightful Peril. 
 
 came, the man would realese his hold, and Frank must 
 
 fall. 
 
 To the boy it seemed that he was suspended thus for 
 
 hours, and he believed the man was gloating over the 
 
 agony thus inflicted. 
 
 "Good-by, Frank Merriwell!" 
 
 The man released his hold, and Frank fell !
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 STRUCK DOWN. 
 
 In that moment when the hands of his deadly foe re- 
 leased their hold upon him, Frank fancied he heard a 
 hoarse shout, as if some one had discovered what was 
 taking place on the platform of the car. 
 
 But the discovery had been made too late. 
 
 Like a rock, Frank fell toward the street. 
 
 In falling his hands were outstretched to clutch some- 
 thing anything. 
 
 He fell about five feet! 
 
 Along the side of the trestle-work were stretched sev- 
 eral telegraph wires, and the boy struck on them, clutched 
 them, clung there ! 
 
 The spring of the wires would have flung him off had 
 he not caught hold of them with his hands and clung fast 
 for his very life. 
 
 He succeeded in holding on, and he was saved from a 
 frightful fall and instant death. 
 
 But Frank was so dazed that he could do nothing but 
 cling to the wires, on which he rested, staring after the 
 lighted train, which was drawing up at the station above. 
 
 He felt weak and cold, and he began to fear that his 
 strength would desert him and he would slip from the 
 wires. 
 
 He looked down upon the great field of lights which 
 stretched away to Fifth avenue across the vacant lots to 
 the north of Central Park, and they seemed like a thou- 
 sand demon eyes winking and blinking at him. Some- 
 how they hypnotized him, and he fancied they were 
 drawing him from the wires, as if they were so many 
 loadstones. 
 
 "Stop ! stop !" he gasped. "I shall fall in a moment ! 
 My strength my strength is deserting me!" 
 
 Then he tore his gaze from those blinking demon eyes,
 
 36 Struck Down. 
 
 looking again toward the train, which had stopped at the 
 station. 
 
 "I'd give a thousand dollars to know who this enemy 
 of mine is !" 
 
 Then the thought that his deadly foe might be stepping 
 from that train at that very moment seemed to give him 
 new strength. Courage came back with a rush. His 
 life had been spared in a marvelous manner. Providence 
 was with him, but he must keep a stout heart. 
 
 "If I can get upon the trestle without falling, I'm all 
 right." 
 
 The wires had sagged beneath his weight so he was 
 at least two feet below the level of the trestle. 
 
 Now, without looking down again, he carefully reached 
 up with one hand and obtained a firm hold on the wood- 
 work of the trestle. When he had done this, he let go of 
 the wire to which he had clung with the other hand, and, 
 a moment later, both hands were fastened on the trestle. 
 
 As has been said, Frank was the champion all-around 
 athlete at Fardale Academy, and now his strength and 
 skill stood him in good stead. Slowly and surely, he 
 drew himself up till his knees rested on the wires, and 
 then it was not such a difficult task to get upon the trestle. 
 
 Even then Frank would have been overcome by the re- 
 action of his feelings, but he realized his danger as he 
 found a sort of giddiness and faintness was coming over 
 him. He was tempted to lie down and rest on the board- 
 walk beside the track, but the hope of overtaking his as- 
 sailant in some way kept him from doing so. 
 
 "Courage strength!" he whispered, as he turned 
 toward the station. 
 
 It seemed that hours had passed since the man flung 
 him over the gate, but the train was still standing at the 
 station, and he understood that the peril through which 
 he had passed had deceived him in regard to the lapse 
 of time. 
 
 He longed to reach the station and intercept his enemy, 
 but the train began to pull out as he hurried forward. 
 
 The station at One Hundred and Sixteenth street is 
 between the tracks, and the ticket-chopper and ticket- 
 seller were astonished to see a bare-headed, pale-faced
 
 Struck Down. 37 
 
 boy climb to the platform from the tracks and rush past 
 them on his way downstairs. 
 
 As Frank reached the station, he had seen in the lighted 
 street beneath a man who wore a hat slouched over his 
 eyes exactly the same as had the man who assailed him on 
 the train. 
 
 The boy resolved to have a look at this man's face, and 
 he lost not a moment in rushing down the long flight oi 
 stairs, the elevator in use at that station being too slow 
 for him just then. 
 
 Reaching the sidewalk, he looked about for the man, 
 who seemed to have vanished. 
 
 Frank hurried to the corner and looked along One 
 Hundred and Sixteenth street toward Seventh avenue. 
 
 An exclamation of satisfaction fell from his lips, for he 
 saw the man walking rapidly to the east. 
 
 "You're the chap I'm after !" muttered the boy, as he 
 started to follow the man. "I am going to have a square 
 look at your face." 
 
 But Frank had been deceived by a resemblance, which 
 is not strange, as he had given the man on the platform 
 of the car no more than a glance, and had simply noted 
 that he wore a hat with the brim slouched over his eyes. 
 
 At the moment that Frank started in pursuit of the man 
 who was walking toward Seventh avenue, another man, 
 who was excitedly puffing at a freshly lighted cigar, came 
 out of the elevator building. 
 
 . The cigar dropped from the man's lips, and he reeled 
 as if he had been struck a blow in the face. 
 
 "Heaven above!" he gasped. "Can it be possible?" 
 
 The boy did not see him. 
 
 Panting with excitement, his face ghastly pale, the man 
 darted to the corner and stared after Frank Merriwell. 
 
 "I can't be deceived !" he muttered, hoarsely, "and yet 
 and yet it is impossible ! He could not fall that distance 
 and not be instantly killed ! I am dreaming ! I have 
 been fooled by a resemblance !" 
 
 There was a long, livid scar running down the man's 
 left cheek, and it seemed to change color with his shifting 
 emotions. 
 
 Like a wolf, he started after the boy, lopping the brim 
 if his hat still further over his eyes.
 
 38 Struck Down. 
 
 Frank little dreamed that he was being shadowed, and 
 there was small chance that he would discover it, as he 
 was giving his entire attention to the task of following 
 the man in advance. 
 
 There were few pedestrians on that particular street 
 at that hour, but those who were passing along stared 
 curiously at the bare-headed lad. 
 
 Frank did not mind that he was attracting attention, 
 for he was not aware that he had lost his hat. 
 
 Little by little the boy drew nearer to the man in ad- 
 vance. They crossed Seventh avenue and continued on 
 toward the east. 
 
 Frank made his plans to overtake the man at the corner 
 of Lenox avenue, where there was a strong light. 
 
 "I'll have a look at his face, anyway !" the boy muttered. 
 
 He hastened forward, passed the man, whirled about 
 and they met fairly beneath the street lamp. 
 
 "Excuse me!" exclaimed Frank, as he snatched the 
 hat from the man's head, much to the astonishment of 
 the latter. 
 
 To Frank's disappointment, the face was that of a man 
 he had never before seen. 
 
 The man gave an angry and astonished exclamation, 
 and made a dash for the boy. 
 
 "You young scoundrel!" he cried, madly. "What do 
 you mean?" 
 
 Skipping lightly aside, Frank replied : 
 
 "Oh, nothing; I simply wanted to get a good look at 
 your face. Didn't know but you were a particular friend 
 of mine, but I see I have made a mistake. Beg your 
 pardon. Here's your hat. Catch!" 
 
 He tossed the hat, and the man caught it, growling : 
 
 "If I could get my hands on you " 
 
 "But you can't, don't you see," was the aggravating 
 assertion. "And I've got your face photographed in my 
 mind. Don't know as we ever met before, but I'll know 
 you if we ever meet again. That's all. So long !" 
 
 The lad skipped lightly away toward Seventh avenue, 
 leaving the man to stare a moment and mutter: 
 
 "That was strange mighty strange ! Hanged if I 
 understand what it meant! He didn't seem like a young
 
 Struck Down. 39 
 
 rowdy, but I can't understand what sort of a game he 
 was playing." 
 
 However, he had recovered his hat, and so he moved 
 on again, glancing back occasionally to see if he were 
 followed. 
 
 But Frank had no thought of following the man fur- 
 ther. He had obtained a fair view of the face hidden by 
 the lopping brim of the hat, and it had proved a disap- 
 pointment, for the man was an utter stranger. More 
 than that, the voice had not sounded like that of Frank's 
 mysterious foe. 
 
 "Don't believe that was the man," muttered the boy, 
 as he swiftly retraced his steps. "Right one got away, 
 and I've lost Hans and the professor. All I can do is 
 go back to the hotel and wait for them." 
 
 The street was deserted, and there were long, dark 
 places between the lights. It was in one of these dark 
 spots that a man crouched in an angle of the board 
 fence that ran along there. He was awaiting the ap- 
 proach of the boy, and he held something gripped tightly 
 in his hand. 
 
 Frank did not see this man till he was passing that very 
 spot. Then he caught a glimpse of a figure that leaped 
 toward him. He had no time to defend himself, but he 
 threw up one arm to ward off the blow which he saw 
 descending. 
 
 The attempt to avert the blow was vain. He was 
 : struck on the head by some heavy instrument that felled 
 'him unconscious to the sidewalk.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A CAPTIVE. 
 
 "What happened ? Did a building fall on my head oD 
 what?" 
 
 Frank Merriwell sat up. As he did so, he heard a sav- 
 age growl, and the wretched light of a smoking kerosene 
 lamp showed him a huge dog that was standing less than 
 six feet away. The reddish, shifting eyes of the beast 
 seemed to rove all over Frank's person. 
 
 "Whew!" breathed the boy, in utter astonishment. 
 "What's this mean ? Where am I, anyway ?" 
 
 The light showed him that he was in a wretched, 
 hovel-like room, and the dog was between him and the 
 only door leading from the place. There were no win- 
 dows to be seen. 
 
 The boy's head was throbbing with a dull, heavy pain, 
 but this did not prevent him from feeling astounded. 
 
 He tried to remember what had happened, and, at first, 
 he found this an impossible task. 
 
 All at once he uttered a low cry, and sank back on 
 the floor. 
 
 "Merciful goodness ! I'm falling !" he fluttered, clutch- 
 ing at the floor with his hands. "My unknown foe has 
 cast me from the train ! It is a hundred feet to the street 
 below! I shall be dashed to death! Help! Ah! I 
 have struck on the wires I am clinging to them ! No, I 
 am slipping off! Heaven help me now! I must reach 
 the trestle before consciousness leaves me ! Now 
 steady up, up, up ! Ha ! I have a hold on the trestle 
 I can draw myself up! Easy slow and sure! A slip 
 now means a frightful fall to certain death ! Thank 
 Heaven ! I have reached the trestle I am saved !" 
 
 The blow the boy had received seemed to have brought 
 on something like delirium, and thus he lived over those 
 minutes of horror which he had passed through on the 
 great S of the elevated railroad.
 
 A Captive. 41 
 
 A cold perspiration came out all over his body, and he 
 shook in every limb. 
 
 At length he lifted himself again, staring wildly about, 
 a bewildered look on his face. 
 
 "I seem to remember," he muttered, lifting a hand to 
 his head. "I reached the station hastened to the street 
 thought I saw the man who flung me from the train. 
 I followed him, and I obtained a fair look at his face ; but 
 I did not know him, and then I turned back. What hap- 
 pened then? It seems as if something came crashing 
 on my head, and I remember no more." 
 
 The dog growled and moved about restlessly. Frank 
 could see that the eyes of the creature were very red, and 
 it was holding its mouth open, with its long, red tongue 
 hanging out. Somehow, the aspect of the beast filled the 
 boy with a feeling of horror, and he involuntarily drew 
 back a bit, which caused the dog to growl still louder 
 than before. 
 
 In drawing back, Frank came against the partition of 
 the room, which he saw was very small, and devoid of 
 furniture, save for a staggering, old table that stood in 
 one corner. 
 
 "It must be that I am a captive here, and that dog is 
 on guard over me," thought Frank Merriwell. "I cannot 
 see any other explanation." 
 
 It seemed quite probable that he was right. 
 
 Feeling of his head in a tender manner, he found a 
 swelled lump that was very sensitive to the touch of his 
 fingers. 
 
 "I was struck down by some sort of an instrument, and, 
 as it did not cut my head, it must have been a sandbag. 
 That rendered me unconscious, and thus I remained till 
 I was brought here to this room. But who did the job ? 
 That is the question." 
 
 The more Frank thought of these things the greater 
 grew his bewilderment, and it seemed to make his head 
 throb still more heavily with pain. 
 
 That the dog was his guard, he had no doubt, but he 
 resolved to make friends with the creature, if possible. In 
 order to begin, he spoke to the dog in a soothing way : 
 
 "Good dog! Nice old fellow!"
 
 42 A Captive. 
 
 But that brought a growl louder and fiercer than those 
 heard before. 
 
 Still Frank continued for some moments, but, as a re- 
 sult, he simply succeeded in arousing the beast, who began 
 to move about in front of the door, keeping its shifty red 
 eyes roving over the boy's figure, and growling fiercely. 
 
 It soon became plain to the captive lad that he could not 
 make friends with the dog, and he gave up the attempt, 
 feeling that he was in a decidedly awkward scrape. 
 Whenever he moved the dog set up such a snapping and 
 growling that he became alarmed and sat still. 
 
 "By Jove ! this is not at all to my taste," thought Frank. 
 "What if that beast takes a fancy to make a meal off me ! 
 He can chew me up at his pleasure." 
 
 The captive began to feel in his pockets. He found 
 they had been searched by his captors, but, in one of his 
 hip pockets, a small knife had been overlooked. This he 
 took out and opened, thinking : 
 
 "I will have some kind of a weapon to defend myself 
 with if the beast attacks me." 
 
 Barely had he done this when he heard heavy footsteps 
 beyond the door. The steps were approaching. 
 
 "Some one coming to make an inspection," flashed 
 through the boy's head. "Possibly it is this mysterious 
 foe of mine, and I may be able to get a square look at his 
 face if I play 'possum. 'Possum it is, then." 
 
 He quickly stretched himself on the floor, with his face 
 turned toward the door, and his eyes nearly closed, but 
 open just enough to permit him to gaze through the lashes. 
 
 The dog whined as the steps came nearer. Plainly the 
 animal recognized the sounds as familiar. He sniffed at 
 the crack of the door, and wagged his tail a little. Till 
 that moment Frank had not realized what a huge beast the 
 dog was; but now he saw that the creature was large 
 enough to drag down an ox. 
 
 There was a rattling sound outside the door, and then 
 an opening about a foot square appeared midway near the 
 top. 
 
 At the opening appeared the face of a man, who looked 
 into the room. 
 
 That face was a disappointment to Frank Merriwell. 
 
 It was the face of a ruffian, unshaved, and covered
 
 A Captive. 43 
 
 nearly to the eyes by a reddish beard a face that Frank 
 Merriwell had never before looked on. 
 
 The dog stood up on its hind legs, and it reached nearly 
 to the opening in the door. 
 
 From the lips of the man came a growl of disappoint- 
 ment a growl that sounded very much like those emitted 
 by the dog. 
 
 "So the young fool is still dead ter der world," mut- 
 tered the man, hoarsely. "Der boss must have gin him a 
 stiff tap on der nut. Mebbe he'll croak widout comin' 
 round at all. Ef he does, der boss kin be satisfied wid his 
 own work. Dunno wot he wants ter do anyhow. Says 
 he wants ter make der kid sign somet'in', now we's got 
 him here, but I t'ink dat's rot." 
 
 Then he spoke to the dog: 
 
 "Down, Demon down ! Keep watch on der feller. Ef 
 he tries ter monkey wid der door, taste of him. No, I 
 ain't goin' ter feed yer. You might git lazy an' careless. 
 Down, and watch der cove." 
 
 The dog did not seem to like this very well, for he 
 growled angrily. 
 
 "Dat's right," snarled the ruffian; "growl at me, will 
 yer ? Well, you'll go hungry all de longer f er dat ! See !" 
 
 The opening in the door was closed with a slap, and 
 Frank Merriwell was once more alone with his fierce 
 guard.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE MAD DOG. 
 
 The dog was enraged by the departure of the man. 
 The beast flung himself against the door, setting up a 
 roaring howl that seemed to make Frank's hair stand 
 on his head. 
 
 "By jingoes!" thought the captive lad; "this is de- 
 cidedly pleasant ! That dog may turn on me now." 
 
 Frank decided it was best to keep very still until the 
 dog was somewhat cooled down. 
 
 There was no longer a doubt but he had fallen into the 
 hands of his unknown enemy, and that very enemy had 
 struck the blow that knocked him senseless. How it came 
 about he could not conceive, but come about it had. 
 
 That his position was one of the gravest peril Frank 
 could not doubt. 
 
 What could he do? 
 
 It did not seem that there was a chance for him to do 
 anything but wait, but that seemed too much like waiting 
 for the enemy to finish the job, and it did not suit Frank 
 at all. 
 
 "Wants me to sign something, does he ?" muttered the 
 captive. "What can it be? I cannot understand this 
 business at all." 
 
 It was useless to speculate on the mystery, as specula- 
 tion simply served to make his head throb more fiercely 
 with pain. 
 
 He fell to watching the dog, and he saw the creature 
 was moving to and fro in front of the door, with its head 
 down, and its tongue hanging out. These movements 
 filled Frank with a vague feeling of alarm. 
 
 The boy watched the dog as if fascinated. From the 
 end of the animal's tongue a bit of frothy drule was drop- 
 ping. Now and then the beast would turn and look at 
 Frank with those red, restless eyes, and the boy's blood 
 would grow cold.
 
 The Mad Dog. 45 
 
 After a time the dog began to whine and snarl, shaking 
 its head as if annoyed. It lay down repeatedly, but got 
 up immediately each time and resumed the walk to and 
 fro in front of the door. 
 
 "The dog is sick," Frank decided. "That is plain 
 enough. If he'd get so bad he didn't mind me, I might 
 stand a show of getting out." 
 
 With each passing moment the dog grew worse. It) 
 was not long before he seemed to forget that he was there* 
 to guard the captive, for he left the door and went into 
 a corner, where he put his nose close to the floor and 
 snarled and whined in a way that made Frank Merriwell 
 long to get out without delay. 
 
 Of a sudden, the beast began to tear about the room, 
 snapping and snarling, a white foam forming on its lips. 
 
 And now the sensation of horror that assailed Frank 
 Merriwell was indescribable. 
 
 "The dog is mad !" gasped the boy. 
 
 Frank dared not stir, fearing he would be attacked the 
 moment he did so. 
 
 Had he escaped from a frightful death in being hurled 
 from the elevated train to the street, simply to meet a still 
 more frightful death in this wretched room ? 
 
 Twice in his mad lunging about the room the dog 
 jumped fairly over Frank's prostrate body; but still the 
 boy did not stir, and it was well for him that he remained 
 motionless. 
 
 If the dog had been attacked by hydrophobia, it was the 
 first stage of the disease as plainly manifest, and Frank 
 hoped the creature might quiet down. 
 
 After a little time this happened, and the dog crouched 
 in a corner, shivering and whining, seeming overcome 
 with terror. 
 
 "Now is my time !" muttered Frank. 
 
 As quietly and carefully as possible, he got upon his 
 feet, keeping his eyes on the dog all the time. To his 
 intense satisfaction, the creature seemed to heed his move- 
 ments very little. The door was no longer guarded, and 
 toward it Frank swiftly and quietly moved. 
 
 The dog continued to shiver and whine. 
 
 "If I had a shotgun, loaded with double-B shot, I'd 
 soon fix you !" thought the boy.
 
 46 The Mad Dog. 
 
 The door was reached, but it would not open when 
 Frank pushed upon it. This, however, was no more than 
 the boy had expected. 
 
 Continuing his examination, he soon found the doot 
 was somewhat shaky. 
 
 "I wonder if I could burst it open if I were to make a 
 run across the room and hurl myself at it?" speculated 
 Frank. 
 
 Then he thought of the dog, and he quickly decided it 
 would not do to make such an attempt, for the creature 
 would be aroused, and, in case the attempt failed, it was 
 likely the dog would be upon him in a moment. 
 
 Putting his shoulder against the door, Frank attempted 
 to force it by a sharp thrust, but that effort failed. 
 
 Then he thought of his knife, and he wondered how 
 long it would take him to cut a hole through the door. 
 
 He did not spend much time in speculating on that, for 
 he quickly decided he must get out of that room in short 
 order, if he wished to escape being bitten by the rabid 
 dog. When the next attack came, it was pretty certain 
 the beast would snap and bite at everything within the 
 room, animate or inanimate, in case it should be within 
 reach. 
 
 A mad desire to get away without delay seized on 
 Frank, and it was only by a great effort of his will that he 
 held himself in check. He longed to beat upon the door, 
 to shout, to break something. 
 
 He tried the small panel that covered the square open- 
 ing in the door, but that was also fastened. He pressed 
 upon it with all his strength ; but it did not stir, and he be- 
 gan to feel that his situation was becoming still more des- 
 perate. 
 
 Now and then Frank turned to look at the dog. The 
 creature was still standing with its head down and its 
 tongue out ; but the shivering that had agitated his body 
 was diminishing. 
 
 "It is liable to have another wild spell in a moment," 
 thought Frank. "I must get out, or I must obtain some 
 weapon of defense besides this knife." 
 
 What sort of a weapon could he obtain? He looked 
 about for something anything, and his eyes fell on the 
 wretched table.
 
 The Mad Dog. 47 
 
 Moving silently and gently, Frank soon reached the 
 table, his sharp eyes having noted that one of the legs 
 looked as if it could be torn away without much trouble. 
 The touch of his hand showed him that the leg was very 
 loose, and he grasped it, gave a wrench, and tore it free. 
 
 A savage snarl came from the dog. 
 
 Frank whirled about, and it required but a glance to 
 show him that the animal was on the verge of having 
 another fit. 
 
 "The tug of war is coming !" muttered the boy, nerving 
 himself for the emergency. "The chances are against me, 
 but I'm going to put up as stiff a fight as I can." 
 
 The table was standing on three legs, and an idea 
 flashed through Frank's head. If he could get upon the 
 table he would be out of the dog's way, and he would have 
 all the better chance of beating the beast off. 
 
 "I'll try it." 
 
 Up upon the table he leaped, taking care not to over- 
 turn it. In a moment he was standing so the table was 
 well balanced on its three legs. 
 
 This he did not a moment too soon. 
 
 The dog set up a frightful snarling and howling, and 
 then it began to dash about the room once more. 
 
 Frank lifted the leg of the table which he had wrenched 
 away, holding it ready for use. 
 
 Round the small room tore the great beast, froth flying 
 from its lips. It snapped and snarled at everything. 
 
 Once it went round without attacking Frank, but on the 
 second turn it rushed straight for the boy, launching itself 
 into the air, with a frightful howl, and seeming to fly 
 straight for the lad's throat. 
 
 With all the strength he possessed, Frank swung the 
 table-leg. 
 
 Whack ! 
 
 The blow struck the dog fairly between the eyes, and 
 the beast was flung back to the floor, where it fell in a 
 quivering, howling, snarling heap. , 
 
 In a moment, however, the dog was up again and rush- 
 ing around the room. 
 
 Frank realized that he had been very fortunate in hit- 
 ting the dog so fairly the first time, and he knew a second 
 leap might not result so well.
 
 48 The Mad Dog. 
 
 In a moment the creature came at him. 
 
 Again Frank struck with the table-leg. In bringing it 
 around, he swept the lamp from the shelf on which it had 
 been setting, and it was dashed to pieces and extinguished 
 on the floor. 
 
 Frank felt the club strike the dog again, and the rabid 
 beast was beaten off once more. 
 
 But the position was one of indescribable horror, for 
 Frank was imprisoned in that small, dark room with the 
 mad dog, and he could no longer see to defend himself.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BY FIRE AND WATER. 
 
 The dog continued its wild charges around the room, 
 and the boy on the table heard it plunge headlong into the 
 wall several times. Then it seemed to quiet down. 
 
 It is not strange that Frank found himself quivering in 
 every limb. It would have been marvelous if he had not 
 experienced a sensation of horror. 
 
 Listening, he could heard the dog panting somewhere 
 in the room, but he could not tell whether the creature was 
 nearby or at the further extremity of the narrow place. 
 
 In either case he was much too near to suit Frank. 
 
 After a time, the boy could see the eyes of the beast 
 glowing in the darkness, and they seemed turned straight 
 on Frank. 
 
 Frank watched those glowing orbs, and a singular sen- 
 sation began to creep slowly over him a sensation of ut- 
 ter helplessness. 
 
 "If I am attacked again, I shall not be able to defend 
 myself !" thought the boy. 
 
 What was that ? 
 
 Frank's heart gave a hopeful bound, for he heard foot- 
 steps outside the door. 
 
 The dog heard the sounds, and began to howl in a 
 frightful manner. 
 
 Then the door was flung open, and the voice of the man 
 who had appeared at the panel a short time before said : 
 
 "What's all this racket in here? Hello! Dark! The 
 light is out ! Demon, boy, where are " 
 
 A snarl came from the throat of the dog, and it was fol- 
 lowed by a howl from the lips of the man. 
 
 Frank Merriwell knew what it meant, and he shud- 
 dered with unspeakable horror. 
 
 The man had been attacked by his own dog ! 
 
 The boy on the table heard a fearful battle taking place 
 just outside the door. The smothered snarling and snap-
 
 5O By Fire and Water. 
 
 ping of the dog were mingled with shrieks and appeals 
 for help from the lips of the man. 
 
 If Frank could have seen, he would have gone to the 
 aid of the man, even though the fellow was a ruffian of 
 the lowest type. As it was, he could do nothing. 
 
 The cries of the man soon brought some one, and Frank 
 saw a light that shone in at the door of the room. 
 
 Down from the table he sprang, and, looking out at the 
 door, he saw an old woman appear at the farther end of 
 a narrow, dirty passage. The woman had a lighted lamp 
 in her hand. 
 
 "Dave! Dave!" she called, in a harsh voice; "w'at's 
 der matter, anyhow ?" 
 
 "Help !" roared the man. "Demon's chawin' me up !" 
 
 When the woman saw what was taking place, she 
 dropped the lamp, uttering a scream of terror, and fled. 
 
 The lamp broke, but did not go out. The running oil 
 caught in a moment, and flames sprang up. 
 
 Then the man, bleeding and torn, succeeded in flinging 
 the dog from him. With a hoarse shout, he leaped over 
 the flames and quickly disappeared. 
 
 The glare of the fire caused the dog to crouch and 
 cower. 
 
 Frank was still in a frightful trap, and his peril was in- 
 creasing with every moment. Between him and liberty 
 blazed the fire and crouched the mad dog. 
 
 What could he do ? 
 
 He fully realized that there could not be many moments 
 to spare. If he did not escape in a few seconds, the fire 
 would shut him off so escape would be impossible. 
 
 Swiftly and silently he crept up behind the cowering 
 dog, the table-leg uplifted. Well it was that the sight of 
 the fire seemed to fascinate the animal and command its 
 entire attention. 
 
 Reaching the proper position, Frank struck the beast 
 upon the head with all the strength he could command, 
 and the table-leg broke in his hands. 
 
 Without waiting to note the result of that blow, Frank 
 dashed forward and sprang over the flames, determined 
 to make his escape if possible. 
 
 He plunged fairly into the midst of several persons who 
 were hurrying to the spot, and he heard a voice cry ;
 
 By Fire and Water. 51 
 
 "It's the boy ! He's escaping ! Stop him !" 
 
 It was the voice of Frank's mysterious foe ! 
 
 "It isn't so easy to stop me now !" panted Frank. 
 
 Out shot his hard fists to the right and left. Smack! 
 smack! At least two blows landed fairly, and at least 
 two of the party were sent staggering. 
 
 Like a cyclone Frank burst through, avoiding hands 
 outstretched to grasp him. He felt that nothing should 
 stop him now. 
 
 Without hesitation, he flung open any door that stood 
 before him, and plunged straight ahead. 
 
 Through one or two rooms he went in this way, hear- 
 ing angry cries behind him, and knowing he would be 
 hotly pursued. 
 
 "I must trust to luck now," he muttered, as he un- 
 hasped a door and sprang through it. 
 
 Splash! Frank struck in a body of water, and went 
 completely under. 
 
 In a moment, he came to the surface and looked around. 
 
 "The open air a river!" he thought, exultantly. "I 
 have escaped ! I am free !" 
 
 Distant lights were twinkling on the farther shore of 
 the river, while, near at hand, he could see a few wretched 
 buildings and some wharves. The door through which 
 he had plunged into the river stood wide open close by. 
 
 Frank was an expert swimmer, and he immediately 
 struck out. He had not taken three strokes before a man 
 appeared in the open door, lamp in hand, and shouted : 
 
 "There he is! He's getting away! Out and after 
 him! Don't let him get ashore without being nabbed!" 
 
 Understanding it was a lonely location on the river, 
 where almost any kind of a crime might be perpetrated 
 without fear of detection, Frank made all haste to get 
 ashore before he could be recaptured. 
 
 The current was quite strong, and it swept him down 
 the river and under an old pier. 
 
 Just as Frank disappeared under the old pier he saw 
 two men come running out upon it, and he believed they 
 were two enemies who had seen him carried in that di- 
 rection. 
 
 Getting hold of a slimy timber, Frank clung there in 
 the darkness, listening. He was able to hear the men
 
 52 By Fire and Water. 
 
 speaking to each other, and, although he did not under- 
 stand their words, he felt certain he had made no mis- 
 take in believing them foes. 
 
 For some time the men lingered above. At length they 
 secured an old skiff, with which they came poking around 
 the pier, trying to peer into the darkness beneath the 
 structure. 
 
 There was no longer any doubt in Frank's mind, for. 
 he was now able to hear their words. One of the men! 
 was railing at the fortune which had enabled Frank to 
 get away, and that man, so the boy believed, was the 
 mysterious enemy who had caused him so much trouble. 
 
 Frank had expected that the building from which he 
 had just escaped would burn to the ground, but it was a 
 long time before the light of the fire began to shine out 
 on the river. This finally happened, however, and he 
 heard one of the men in the skiff say: 
 
 "Dave's ranch is a goner this time. Here comes the 
 first engine, and the old place is so far along that it can't 
 be saved." 
 
 "What do I care for Dave's ranch !" snarled the other 
 man. "That infernal boy got away when I had him tight 
 and fast ! That's what's troubling me." 
 
 "It was your own fault, boss. We'd done him any 
 time ; but, as you did seem to have him fast, you was goin* 
 to make him sign some kind of a paper, an' that " 
 
 "Oh, shut up! Shove under the pier, and we'll look 
 around." 
 
 Then the skiff began moving directly toward the place 
 where Frank was clinging to the water-soaked timber.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OUT OF THE RIVER. 
 I 
 
 
 
 Frank saw he was not yet out of danger. 
 
 "What's the use of looking under here ?" grumbled one 
 af the men. "We won't find anything." 
 
 "Perhaps not, but we'll look." 
 
 "Ther kid's got away. He's a fly young cove." 
 
 "Altogether too fly," growled Frank's unknown foe. 
 
 "Wonder how he worked it to set Dave's dog onter the 
 critter's own master?" 
 
 "It's my opinion the dog's mad, and that's why he at- 
 tacked Dave." 
 
 "Thunder! You may be right. The brute's been 
 actin' queer for two days." 
 
 "If he is mad, I hope he chewed Frank Merriwell some 
 that's all." 
 
 "You don't like that boy any to brag of." 
 
 "Like him ! I should say not ! Why did I bring him 
 to the gang, and offer them good money to dispose of 
 him so his body'd never be found ? I have no reason to 
 like him, I hate him, and I don't propose to rest till he is 
 put out of the way for good and all." 
 
 The ligfit of the fire was growing stronger, but it did 
 not reach far enough beneath the pier for Frank to see 
 the faces of his foes. The boy would have given much 
 had he been able to see the features of the man who 
 hated him with such deadly hatred. 
 
 Again it seemed to Frank that there was something 
 familiar about the voice of that individual. 
 
 "I've heard that voice before I ever saw New York," 
 thought Frank; "but when where?" 
 
 Slowly the men pushed the skiff about amid the tim- 
 bers, and Frank kept as far down in the water as possible, 
 hoping thus to escape detection, although they were close 
 upon him. 
 
 "What's the use of pokin' 'round in here?" grumbled
 
 54 Out of the River. 
 
 the fellow who accompanied Frank's foe. "We can't sec 
 anything." 
 
 "You've got no reason to kick I'm paying." 
 
 "Well, I don't like this place. Perhaps the boy is 
 drowned." 
 
 "Little danger of that. Fire, water, or a hundred-foot 
 fall from an elevated railroad will not kill him! I be- 
 lieve Satan aids him!" 
 
 "I don't need assistance from your master," thought 
 the boy. 
 
 The skiff floated past where Frank could reach out 
 and touch it, which he did as the stern came along. 
 
 Releasing his hold on the slippery timber, Frank fas- 
 tened to the stern of the boat, still keeping well down in 
 the water, and allowed himself to be towed along. 
 
 In this way the men who were searching for Frank 
 towed him out from beneath the pier. 
 
 A feeling of mischief seized upon the boy, and, with 
 a sudden effort, he upset the skiff, throwing both of the 
 men into the water, which was rather cold. This was 
 not a difficult matter, for the boat was old, leaky, and 
 cranky. 
 
 Two strokes carried Frank back beneath the edge of 
 the pier, where he clung and awaited the result of his act. 
 
 The men had disappeared beneath the surface, but they 
 quickly came up, spouting water from their mouths, and 
 the water was followed by some decidedly violent lan- 
 guage. 
 
 "What do you mean, you blundering fool?" snarled 
 Frank's particular foe. "Why did you upset the boat?" 
 
 "I didn't upset it !" flung back the other. "You upset 
 it yourself !" 
 
 "That's a lie ! You did it by your blundering careless- 
 ness !" 
 
 "That's a lie for you. I've been around the river all 
 my life. What do you know about boats?" 
 
 "Well, I should know something, and I don't propose 
 to be called a liar by you !" 
 
 "What're ye goin' to do about it?" 
 
 "This!" 
 
 Frank could see them on the surface of the water, and 
 he saw his enemy lift a hand and strike the other in the
 
 Out of the River. 55 
 
 face. In another moment, the men had clinched, and then 
 began a desperate struggle in the water. 
 
 "If they will drown each other it will be a great relief 
 to me and a fine thing for the country at large," thought 
 Frank. 
 
 The battle was a savage one, and the current caught the 
 two men and swept them away. At times they sank 
 beneath the surface, but when they came up they resumed 
 the struggle. This continued till they had floated beyond 
 Frank's sight under the shadow of the shore. 
 
 "Well, I rather think it is time for me to get out of 
 this," muttered the boy. 
 
 It was not a difficult task to swim ashore, and he was 
 soon where he could climb upon the pier and look for the 
 men who had been searching for him a short time before. 
 
 He could see nothing of them, althought the light of 
 the fire shone on the water. 
 
 Looking toward the old building from which he had 
 escaped in such a providential manner, he saw nearly one- 
 half of it was in flames. A fire-engine was working near- 
 by and several streams were being poured on the flames. 
 
 The light of the fire showed that a wretched mob of 
 human beings had gathered near the blaze, called out of 
 the surrounding hovels by the fire. 
 
 Not caring to be questioned, Frank sought a spot 
 where he could remove some of his clothing under cover 
 of the darkness and wring out some of the water. 
 
 "I wonder if they found my money ?" he muttered. 
 
 He had a hidden money pocket in his clothes, and, with- 
 out delay, he examined it to see if they had relieved him of 
 its contents. 
 
 To his intense satisfaction, he found they had not dis- 
 covered it, and his money was all right, although the 
 bills hidden away there had been well soaked. 
 
 Frank had not the least idea concerning the part of the 
 city he was in, but he had money, and he believed that 
 would take him back to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. 
 
 Without spending much time in that vicinity after get- 
 ting out of the river, he hastened away. Through the 
 wretched streets he made his way till he came to an 
 elevated railroad trestle. Passing on yet another long
 
 56 Out of the River. 
 
 block, he came to a second elevated railroad, and found 
 himself on a brightly lighted street, where there were 
 numbers of pedestrians, although Frank was sure the 
 hour must be late. 
 
 A cab was passing, with the driver nodding sleepily 
 on the box and Frank immediately hailed the fellow. 
 
 "How far is it to the Fifth Avenue Hotel?" he asked. 
 
 "Five miles," was the surly reply. 
 
 Frank whistled with surprise. 
 
 "How much will you charge to take me there?" 
 
 "Five dollars." 
 
 "What do you take me for?" cried the boy. "I can 
 make it by the elevated for five cents." 
 
 "Perhaps yer might if they didn't arrest yer." 
 
 "Arrest me? What for?" 
 
 "On suspicion. You don't look jest right, me young 
 covie." 
 
 Frank realized that he did not look "just right," and 
 that was why he wished to obtain passage in a closed 
 carriage, but he knew the legal rates of the city, and he 
 was aware that cabby had asked him exactly two dollars 
 and a half more than the correct price. 
 
 "Look here," he said, "I'll give you three dollars to 
 take me to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and not a cent more. 
 What do you say?" 
 
 "Say, young feller, wot d'yer take me fer? Think I 
 dunno me biz?" 
 
 "You are not allowed to charge over fifty cents a 
 mile, at the most. Five miles would be two and a half. 
 I've offered you three. Accept it or not, as you like." 
 
 "Pay in advance?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Don't believe you've got der scads." 
 
 "Here see." 
 
 Frank showed his money. 
 
 "That looks all right, though I ruther think you've 
 been in ther wash. Get in." 
 
 Frank lost no time in entering the cab, as he saw his 
 appearance had begun to attract attention, and one or 
 two persons were stopping to look and listen. 
 
 The door closed behind Frank, and the driver turned 
 about, whipped up his horse, and headed downtown.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AT POLICE HEADQUARTERS. 
 
 Safe within the cab and on his way to the Fifth 
 Avenue Hotel, Frank lay back and tried to think of the 
 adventures of the night; but when he did so he could 
 scarcely believe them all real, and he wondered if he 
 had not been dreaming. 
 
 He shuddered as he thought of his struggle on the 
 elevated train and what had followed; but thoughts of 
 his situation when he was confined with the mad dog over- 
 came him with unutterable horror. Surely a kind Provi- 
 dence had watched over him, else he could not have passed 
 through all this and come forth unharmed almost un- 
 scathed. 
 
 Frank knew he had every reason to be thankful, and 
 thankful he surely was. 
 
 He had been buoyed by excitement, but now it was all 
 over, he sank back on the cushioned seat of the cab in 
 an exhausted condition. 
 
 Thus he lay while the cab rumbled along the streets. 
 It was a long, tiresome ride, but, looking from the win- 
 dow, Frank finally discerned the familiar corner of 
 Madison square, and, a moment later, the cab drew up in 
 front of the hotel. 
 
 The driver jumped down quickly and opened the door, 
 evidently to make sure the boy did not escape without 
 paying. 
 
 The smallest bill in Frank's possession was a V, and, 
 showing this, he caused the driver to produce two dollars 
 in change before he passed over the money. 
 
 "S'pose ye think yer mighty sharp," growled the man, 
 as he reluctantly passed over the two dollars; "but I'll 
 make up fer you on some other bloke." 
 
 "That's all right," laughed Frank. "I am not looking 
 out for other folks. I am making sure you do not beat 
 me."
 
 58 At Police Headquarters. 
 
 Despite the hour, there were still not a few pedestrians 
 on Broadway, a thoroughfare on which there is pulsing 
 life and movement constantly night and day year after 
 year. Late at night the current may dwindle, but it con- 
 tinues to flow, and thus it fluctuates and flows, summer 
 and winter, storm and shine. 
 
 Frank was well aware that he presented a singular ap- 
 pearance, and he did not care to attract much attention, 
 therefore he hurried into the hotel without delay. 
 
 The few individuals who were moving in the long cor- 
 ridor opened their eyes in astonishment and wonder as 
 they noted his appearance. The night clerk sat bolt up- 
 right, as if he had received an electric shock, staring hard 
 at the bareheaded lad, who, although he was well dressed, 
 looked as if he had been for hours in a drenching rain- 
 storm. 
 
 Frank stepped forward briskly, passed the clerk, and 
 was soon rousing the rather sleepy elevator boy. The 
 latter had never before seen Frank, at whom he stared 
 in bewilderment, thickly asking: 
 
 "Which floor?" 
 
 "Fifth." 
 
 Up glided the car, and Frank drew a breath of relief, 
 for he had feared that he would be stopped and forced 
 to explain, which he did not care to do. 
 
 The boy let him out at the fifth floor, but he held the 
 car there and watched till Frank disappeared around the 
 corner. 
 
 Frank had good cause to congratulate himself, for 
 ordinarily he could not have reached that floor without 
 being questioned; but his confident, unfaltering manner 
 had plainly declared him a guest of the hotel, for all of 
 his remarkable appearance. 
 
 As Frank approached the suite of rooms engaged by 
 Professor Scotch, the door was flung open, and out came 
 the professor, with Hans at his heels. Both wore top 
 coats, and their movements indicated that they were in a 
 hurry. 
 
 "It's useless to wait longer," the professor was declar- 
 ing. "We must report to the police." 
 
 "Yah," agreed the Dutch boy, "we must report to der 
 bolice."
 
 At Police Headquarters. 59 
 
 The little professor nearly ran into Frank, who was 
 standing directly beneath one of the subdued lights. The 
 appearance of the lad gave Scotch a terrible shock, and 
 ihe recoiled against Hans, who gurgled : 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas! Vos dot a ghost, ain'd id?" 
 
 In a low, hollow voice, which seemed to come from the 
 depths of some great cavern, Frank said : 
 
 "Behold, I come to lead you to the spot where my body 
 may be found." 
 
 The professor turned pale, and Hans' teeth began to 
 chatter. 
 
 "Oxcuse me!" came faintly from the lips of the Dutch 
 boy. "Vere vos dot?" 
 
 "At the bottom of the East River." 
 
 "Veil, I don'd peen no fish !" fluttered Hans, as he re- 
 leased his hold on Professor Scotch and bolted from the 
 spot. 
 
 The professor had been leaning so heavily upon Hans 
 that he dropped to a sitting position the moment his sup- 
 port was gone, and he hastened to say: 
 
 "To be sure! to be sure! Of course we'll accommo- 
 date you, if we can secure divers' suits." 
 
 This brought a merry burst of laughter from Frank's 
 lips, and he hastened to assist the professor to rise. 
 
 "Well, well, well !" muttered Scotch. "Is it really you? 
 Of course it is ! I knew it all the time ; you didn't fool 
 me." 
 
 "Oh, no, not at all !" chuckled Frank. 
 
 "Not a bit," asserted the professor, stoutly. "I am not 
 in the least superstitious. Educated men are never su- 
 perstitious. But I will admit that you looked rather 
 ghost-like as you stood there." 
 
 "I did frighten Hans a bit." 
 
 "Somewhat. But where have you been? Your hat is 
 gone, your face is pale, and your clothing is dripping 
 wet." 
 
 "Well, I have been in the Harlem River, the East River, 
 the Atlantic Ocean, or somewhere else. Let's get into the 
 room, and I'll tell you about it." 
 
 Hans was watching them from a distant end of the 
 passage, and he began to feel reassured when he saw 
 Frank and the professor talking together familiarly.
 
 60 At Police Headquarters. 
 
 "Veil, maype dot don'd peen a ghost," muttered the 
 Dutch boy; "but I'd rather haf a huntret tollars than see 
 him do dot again !" 
 
 Professor Scotch and Frank entered the parlor of the 
 suite, and Hans slipped swiftly to the door, where he 
 could hear them talking in a way that made him think 
 everything all right, so he opened the door and slipped 
 inside. 
 
 Frank's trunk had been brought from the station, and 
 he was losing no time in exchanging his water-soaked 
 clothing for garments that were dry, in the meantime re- 
 lating the story of his recent thrilling experiences. 
 
 To this astounding story Professor Scotch and Hans 
 Dunnerwust listened in the most profound amazement, 
 and when it was finished, the professor was excited as he 
 had never been before. 
 
 "The police must be notified!" he almost roared. 
 "Those villains must be captured!" 
 
 "Dot peen pusiness !" cried Hans. "Uf dose villains 
 don't peen captured righd avay queek alretty yet, you 
 vos a liar!" 
 
 "Easy," cautioned Frank. "You will not find them if 
 you look for them now. The old house burned, and 
 two of them floated off in the river. If they succeeded 
 in drowning each other, my enemy will give me no fur- 
 ther trouble. It will be time enough in the morning for 
 me to make a report at police headquarters." 
 
 He found it somewhat difficult to convince the pro- 
 fessor that the whole affair should not be reported at 
 once, but he finally succeeded. 
 
 If Frank had not been utterly exhausted, the pro- 
 fessor would have kept him up to talk over the affair 
 for hours. But, having told the story from beginning to 
 end, and being dreadfully tired, Frank refused to do any 
 further talking till morning, and was soon in bed. 
 
 It was more than an hour after that before Professor 
 Scotch retired, and then he did not sleep well, for he 
 dreamed of the frightful adventures through which Frank 
 had passed. 
 
 Strangely enough, Frank seemed to slumber like a 
 child, and he awoke in the morning feeling bright and
 
 At Police Headquarters. 61 
 
 refreshed, notwithstanding the lump on the side of his 
 head, which still made itself felt. 
 
 But the professor was ready to hammer him with hun- 
 dreds of questions, and Frank was tired of answering and 
 explaining long before they descended to breakfast. 
 
 According to the professor, Frank had not been missed 
 from the train till they were near the end of the line. As 
 he could not be found when the train reached the station 
 at One Hundred and Fifty-fifth street, Professor Scotch 
 and Hans were greatly alarmed. 
 
 Knowing Frank was inclined to perpetrate practical 
 jokes, the professor fancied he might be working some- 
 thing of the sort in this case, so they returned to the hotel 
 and waited for him there. 
 
 But they could not sleep, and they had decided to visit 
 police headquarters and report Frank's disappearance. 
 They had just started when they ran upon the missing 
 lad outside the room. 
 
 Having eaten breakfast, and finding the morning some- 
 what chilly, they returned to their rooms and donned 
 overcoats, after which they left the hotel and proceeded 
 to police headquarters in Mulberry street. 
 
 Here they finally obtained an interview with the in- 
 spector, and Frank told the story of the assaults upon his 
 life since he entered New York a few hours before. 
 
 At first the inspector had shown very little interest, but 
 his interest grew, and he was simply astounded when 
 Frank told of his marvelous escape from death on the 
 elevated railroad. 
 
 When the tale was finished, the inspector put a number 
 of questions to the lad, but found that Frank was unable 
 to describe his mysterious foe, although he felt sure he 
 would know the man's voice if he ever heard it again. 
 
 Then the inspector questioned the lad in regard to any 
 enemies he might have. Frank explained that he had 
 made a number of enemies at Fardale Academy, but they 
 had all turned to friends at last, so that, when he left 
 the school, he did not seem to have an enemy among 
 them. 
 
 The inspector then brought out that Carlos Merriwell, 
 Frank's cousin, had made two desperate attempts on the 
 ooy's life, but that he had lost his own life in the second
 
 62 At Police Headquarters. 
 
 attempt, having perished in a burning house where he 
 had tried to imprison Frank. 
 
 "If the fellow was not drowned in the river, we may 
 be able to run him down," said the inspector. "That's 
 all. Leave your address. Fifth Avenue Hotel? Very 
 well. Good-day." 
 
 They were curtly dismissed, and the next visitor war 
 admitted.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH. 
 
 Leaving police headquarters, the trio visited the Bow- 
 ery, along which they strolled, thoroughly enjoying the 
 sights to be seen there. Hans was tempted by the cheap 
 shows, and it was with no small difficulty they kept him 
 from patronizing everything of the sort. 
 
 At length they reached City Hall square, and they 
 rested on a seat near the fountain, from which position 
 they could view the tall buildings and watch the rush of 
 human beings on every hand. 
 
 On one hand was Park Row, with its crush of street 
 cars and trucks, and on the other hand was Broadway, 
 almost as badly congested with a crush of traffic. The 
 new office building on the west side of Broadway loomed 
 high in the air, and on the east side of Park Row the 
 World building thrust its gilded dome up into the sky. 
 
 "Veil," muttered Hans, after he had stared about in 
 open-mouthed wonder, "uf dot don'd peat der pand, I 
 don'd know vere you vos at!" 
 
 Leaving City Hall Park, they strolled through the post- 
 office, and came out upon Broadway, down which they 
 'continued to Wall street, which proved something of a 
 disappointment to Hans. 
 
 "I don'd seen der vail somewhere alretty yet," he said. 
 "Und vere vos all dot money vot they half biled oop mit 
 der vindows in down here, ain'd id ?" 
 
 Evidently, he had expected to feast his eyes on heaps 
 of money, and it was likely he had fancied it possible to 
 pick up some in the street. 
 
 They had some difficulty in discovering the entrance 
 to the Stock Exchange, but were finally successful. 
 
 As soon as they were inside the doors, a roar of voices 
 reached their ears, and Hans immediately felt like getting 
 out as soon as he could.
 
 64 Between Heaven and Earth. 
 
 "Vot they keep in here, ain'd id?" he asked. "Vos dot 
 a menagery vot I hear howling ?" 
 
 They ascended the stairs to the balcony, although 
 Frank was forced to assure the Dutch boy over and over 
 that he would not be in danger of getting hurt by the wild 
 animals. 
 
 When they were able to look over on the floor of the 
 [exchange, and Hans could see the mass of swaying, sur- 
 ! m & struggling, shouting human beings, the Dutch lad's 
 hair threatened to rise up and lift his hat off his head. 
 
 "Dunder and blitzen!" he gurgled. "Uf dot don'd 
 peen der piggest free fight you efer seen." 
 
 It happened to be an exciting day in the exchange, and 
 the brokers were disporting themselves in ways that made 
 them seem like a gang of violent lunatics. 
 
 When one man smashed the new silk hat of another, 
 and then jumped on that individual's shoulders in order 
 to howl at still another man who was surrounded by a 
 wild mob, the Dutch lad began to take off his coat. 
 
 "Here ! here !" cried Frank. "What are you going to 
 do?" 
 
 "Veil, I don'd peen much uf a fighter," replied Hans, 
 wildly, "but I nefer sdood sdill und seen anybody mur- 
 tered." 
 
 "Keep cool. Nobody is being murdered." 
 
 "Veil, I know dot, but uf they don'd mean to mutter 
 dot leedle man der mittle uf dot crowd in, you vos a liar !" 
 
 "Nothing of the sort, Hans. That's business." 
 
 "Say, Vrankie, you can'd fool me. I peen roundt a 
 leedle mit der virld in, und I know ven somepody vos in 
 danger uf peing safe. Look at dot man der ret musdashe 
 mit shake his fist der leedle man's face in ! Look at dot 
 Dder man der plack musdashe mit crab der leetle man 
 hold uf ! Come, Vrankie, ged a club, und we peen goin' 
 to sail into dot gang!" 
 
 It was useless to argue with Hans. Frank could not 
 ^uiet the Dutch lad, and he became more violent when 
 the professor tried to talk to him. So they found it ab- 
 solutely necessary to get hold of him on either side and 
 drag him down the stairs and out to the street. 
 
 "Veil," he observed, as Frank made him put on his 
 Scat, "uf dot man vos killed, I don'd peen to plame."
 
 Between Heaven and Earth. 65 
 
 They turned back toward Broadway, on the farther 
 side of which Trinity Church lifts its spire to the 
 heavens. 
 
 The sight of this church inspired the professor to enter 
 into a dissertation on Gothic architecture, but Frank cut 
 him short by reminding him that they did not have time to 
 waste there. 
 
 The professor did not propose visiting the graveyard 
 near the church, but he explained that it contained the 
 graves of Alexander Hamilton, Robert Fulton, the in- 
 ventor of the first steamboat, and Captain Lawrence, the 
 hero of the Chesapeake. 
 
 Frank wished to view the city from the tower of the 
 World building, and so they returned to City Hall square, 
 which they recrossed. 
 
 Entering the World building, they were able to obtain 
 permits to visit the top, and they entered the narrow, 
 cagelike elevator that carries passengers to the dome. 
 
 The newspaper office at the top of that towering build- 
 ing was of great interest to Frank, and, having left the 
 elevator, he took his time in climbing to the last eerie, al- 
 lowing the professor and Hans to precede him. 
 
 Little did Frank dream that his steps had been dogged, 
 and that the next time the elevator came up it would con- 
 tain his deadly enemy. 
 
 Frank found Hans and the professor at the top. They 
 were standing within the narrow space between the 
 cupola and the rail, to which both were clinging convul- 
 sively. 
 
 The panorama spread out on every hand was enough 
 to bewilder a person and take away his breath. 
 
 Looking down over the bulging side of the dome, 
 Frank could see the human beings in City Hall square 
 looking like pigmies, while the cars and teams seemed 
 like tiny toys. A strange feeling of terror seemed to 
 come up and clutch at his heart as he gazed, and he drew 
 back from the rail. 
 
 To the north New York City stretched away into the 
 smoky distance, with the broad Hudson on one side, and 
 the East River on the other. He could see Blackwell's 
 Island, Ward's Island, Hell Gate, and Long Island 
 Sound. To the east lay the housetops of Brooklyn,
 
 66 Between Heaven and Earth. 
 
 stretching far down toward Coney Island. Almost di- 
 rectly beneath him, as it seemed, was the great Brooklyn 
 bridge. To the south lay the bay, in the midst of which 
 the statue of Liberty uplifted its unlighted torch. Bay 
 and rivers were covered with moving vessels, steamers, 
 ferryboats, tugs, and all kinds of craft. To the west was 
 Jersey City, and beyond Newark the Orange Mountains 
 could be seen. 
 
 It was a thrilling and inspiring view, and Frank felt 
 his blood quicken in his veins. He moved around the 
 cupola, leaving the professor and Hans. 
 
 It happened that there were not many visitors to the 
 dome, and Frank found himself alone. So absorbed was 
 he that he did not notice when another person slipped to 
 his side. 
 
 All at once he was clutched, and in his ear hissed a now 
 well-known and hated voice : 
 
 "You may be thrown from an elevated train and es- 
 cape, but we'll see if a drop from the top of this building 
 will do you any damage. Over you go !" 
 
 He was lifted from his feet and over the railing !
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE ENEMY UNMASKED. 
 
 Frank felt himself grasped by yet another hand a 
 strong hand that held him suspended in midair, for all 
 of the frightful strain. Then the boy got hold of the rail 
 and dragged himself back. 
 
 The watchman had saved him. 
 
 His mysterious enemy was gone. 
 
 Seeing Frank was safe, the watchman hastened after 
 the would-be murderer. 
 
 Frank followed, although his legs felt weak beneath 
 him. 
 
 Hastening down the steep stairs, the watchman was 
 barely in time to see the elevator glide downward and 
 disappear. 
 
 Turning to Frank, the man said : 
 
 "He got away, young man, for he was on the elevator." 
 
 "What did he look like?" panted Frank. "Describe 
 him!" 
 
 " 'Bout the only thing I noticed was that he had a 
 heavy red beard." 
 
 "That was a disguise. This is not the first time he 
 has attacked me." 
 
 In a remarkably brief space of time, it was known 
 throughout the office that a strange man had attempted 
 to throw the boy from the top of the building. 
 
 That was exactly the sort of a sensation which the pa- 
 per relished, and Frank found himself a captive in the 
 clutches of several reporters. He wished to pursue his 
 assailant, but was not permitted. However, the watch- 
 man and two reporters lost little time in getting after 
 the man. 
 
 Frank was taken to the managing editor, who ex- 
 pressed unbounded satisfaction when he heard what had 
 happened. 
 
 "This will be a great ad !" he exclaimed. "Mr c Smith,
 
 68 The Enemy Unmasked. 
 
 you may do the story. Make it any length up to twc 
 columns." 
 
 So Frank found himself delivered into the hands oi 
 Mr. Smith, who set about learning everything that could 
 be worked into the story. 
 
 At first, Frank had thought that he would not tell that 
 this was the fourth attempt upon his life since he entered 
 the city the day before, but, by adroit questioning, Smith 
 learned everything, and when he had obtained the full 
 particulars his delight knew no bounds. 
 
 "This will make a corking story!" he exclaimed. "It 
 is the best thing we have struck in a week." 
 
 He then offered Frank money to keep the story from 
 any other reporter for four hours. The money Frank 
 declined, but Smith succeeded in extracting a promise of 
 silence. 
 
 This was all over when the professor and Hans came 
 down from the top of the building, looking around for 
 Frank in a bewildered way. 
 
 Vere you peen, Vrankie ?" asked the Dutch boy. "We 
 seen you when you come town. Why you ain'd 
 spoke mit us when you done dot ?" 
 
 "Yes, yes," fluttered the little professor. "We didn't 
 fcnow but you had fallen from the building." 
 
 When they were told that Frank had been assailed and 
 cast over the railing outside the cupola with them not 
 twenty feet away, the professor collapsed into a chair 
 and Hans fell over against a reporter. 
 
 "Frank," said Professor Scotch, "I think we had better 
 get out of New York without delay." 
 
 "Yah," nodded the Dutch lad; "uf we don'd done dot 
 you vos a deadt poy." 
 
 "That is right," asserted the professor. "This enemy 
 Is determined to succeed, and he will do so before long.". 
 
 "I don't think so," replied Frank, quietly. "He has 
 failed four times within twenty-four hours. I am not 
 going to run from him." 
 
 "You will not leave the city?" 
 
 "I will not be driven out by my unknown foe. If I 
 left he would follow me and I should be no better off. 
 The matter has been placed in the hands of the police, 
 and we'll see what they are able to do. So far it has been
 
 The Enemy Unmasked. 69 
 
 a case of fighting in the dark, for I have not known who 
 my enemy is, but he'll not be able to keep his identity a 
 secret much longer." 
 
 Before Frank left the World office, the watchman re- 
 turned and said he had been unable to follow Frank's 
 assailant, although the elevator man had carried the fel- 
 low to the first floor. The two reporters were still trying 
 to track the would-be assassin. 
 
 Frank was praised for his nerve by almost every one 
 of the reporters and editors before leaving, and his hand 
 was shaken till his arm ached. 
 
 Despite the frightful peril through which he had passed, 
 Frank resolved not to have his sight-seeing for the day 
 spoiled, and, when they reached the street, he said : 
 
 "We'll take lunch at a restaurant, and then make a trip 
 over Brooklyn bridge. Now that we are so near is 
 the time to see it." 
 
 So they went to a restaurant and ordered lunch. As 
 they were waiting to be served, Frank heard a man be- 
 hind them giving an order at the counter. 
 
 The sound of that man's voice brought Frank Merri- 
 well to his feet in a moment. 
 
 He saw the man was one who had come in since they 
 entered. His back was turned to Frank, but the boy 
 strode straight toward him. 
 
 Just before Frank came within reach, the man turned 
 and faced him fairly, then leaped erect, with an exclama- 
 tion of dismay. 
 
 As for Frank, he seemed stricken motionless with 
 astonishment and incredulity. His amazement was so 
 great that he stood there, motionless and staring, faintly 
 muttering : 
 
 "Carlos Merriwell alive !" 
 
 "Yes, alive !" came lowly from the man. 
 
 Then, quick as a flash, he whirled and dashed toward 
 the door. 
 
 "Stop that man !" shouted Frank, as he sprang after the 
 fellow. 
 
 Instantly there was the utmost confusion in the place. 
 Men sprang to their feet, and at least half a dozen of 
 them got in Frank's way. The boy savagely thrust them
 
 70 The Enemy Unmasked. 
 
 aside, but they bothered him just enough to allow his 
 enemy to escape. 
 
 Reaching the street, Frank saw his foe already swal- 
 lowed in the throng that literally packed the narrow side- 
 walk at that point, and, although he searched, he saw 
 nothing more of Carlos Merriwell. 
 
 Frank blamed himself for letting the fellow get away, 
 but it was not strange that he did so, for up to the very 
 moment that he saw the scarred face of his pretended vil- 
 lainous cousin he had believed Carlos had perished in a 
 burning house at Fardale village. Naturally, Frank was 
 stricken motionless with astonishment for a moment when 
 he saw the fellow alive before him. 
 
 Returning to the restaurant, he found the professor and 
 Hans waiting in a great state of apprehension. 
 
 As they had attracted no small amount of attention 
 there, Frank left the place immediately. 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked Professor Scotch. 
 
 "Direct to police headquarters," was the reply. "I can 
 now give a complete description of my enemy." 
 
 To police headquarters they went, and Frank told the 
 inspector what had happened since they were there some 
 hours before, and gave a description of Carlos Merriwell. 
 
 When this was over, it was not strange that Frank 
 cared no more for sight-seeing that day, but preferred to 
 go straight to the hotel, where he could meditate on his 
 remarkable discovery that Carlos Merriwell was still living. 
 
 As Carlos was the son of Asher Dow Merriwell, to 
 whose property he would have been the legal heir if it 
 had not been left to Frank by will, it is not surprising 
 that Frank wished to consider the situation somewhat. 
 
 The professor and Hans found he did not feel at all 
 like answering questions, and so they let him alone. 
 
 The Evening World contained the story of Frank's re- 
 markable escapes from death, and the following "scare 
 headlines" were used : 
 
 "HE CAN'T BE KILLED. 
 
 "Pursued by a Mysterious and Deadly Foe, Brave Frank 
 Merriwell Escapes Every Danger." 
 
 "Whew!" whistled Frank, when he read the heading,
 
 The Enemy Unmasked. 71 
 
 "This is notoriety. I'd escaped this if the last attack 
 upon me hadn't been made in the World building. Then 
 there was no possible escape." 
 
 Frank wondered if his foe would continue to harass 
 him hotly. 
 
 On the following morning he received a letter that was 
 postmarked at Jersey City. It was directed and written 
 in scrawling chirography with a lead pencil. Tearing 
 open the envelope, Frank read as follows : 
 
 "BELOVED COUSIN: I had a notion that I was some- 
 what lucky myself, but you take the purse. However, I 
 am not done with you yet. You thought me burned to 
 death at Fardale, but I escaped from the house and got 
 out of town without being seen. Have been watching 
 your movements since then, and knew when you were 
 coming to New York. I hired two private detectives 
 to keep me posted constantly, concerning your movements 
 and your plans, and they 'did their work well. Was ready 
 for you, and meant to do you. You have robbed me of 
 property which is rightfully mine, and I do not mean that 
 you shall enjoy it. But New York is far too hot to hold 
 me longer, and so I leave you for a time. But we'll meet 
 again. Till then, farewell, beloved cousin! 
 
 "CARLOS MERRIWELL." 
 
 "That may be a blind," thought Frank. "I'll remain 
 on my guard all the while." 
 
 But Frank was not to be troubled further by his vil- 
 lainous cousin while he remained in New York City, nor 
 was Carlos Merriwell captured by the police, for he had, 
 indeed, departed. 
 
 During the next ten days Frank and his companions 
 enjoyed the sights and pleasures of New York to their 
 hearts' satisfaction, and then they left the metropolis to 
 continue their travels, Hans and the professor going 
 ahead to Chicago and Frank first paying a necessary visit 
 to his home. 
 
 Although Frank did not know it, Carlos Merriwell 
 had spoken truly when he said they would meet again.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 DE LANCEY DUNCAN. 
 
 "This seat taken?" 
 
 The question was asked of Frank, who sat alone, on 
 the train bound West. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Good enough! I'm sick of riding in the smoker. 
 Good place in there to cure hams. I'll smell of smoke 
 for a month. Going to Chicago, eh?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Great village. Beats all creation. New York isn't 
 in it with Chicago. Chicago's got hustle, bustle, rush, go, 
 snap, vim, and other things too numerous to mention. 
 It is destined to be the metropolis of the new world. 
 You're from the East?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I knew it. You wear it all over you. Bet you say 
 She-car-go. My name is De Lancey Duncan. Sorry I 
 haven't a card. If we're going to be seatmates, let's be 
 sociable. What's your name?" 
 
 "Frank Merriwell." 
 
 "That's first-rate almost as good as De Lancey Dun- 
 can. By Jove! I believe we look something alike, and 
 we are dressed very nearly alike. Great Scott! And 
 our alligator grips are alike ! Say, Frank Merriwell, we 
 must be careful not to get mixed." 
 
 Frank laughed. There was something rushing, bus- 
 tling, breezy about De Lancey Duncan something ex- 
 tremely fresh, as it appeared to Frank. For all of De 
 Lancey's free-and-easy air, the boy from the East dis- 
 trusted him vaguely. Yet it /seemed to Frank that his 
 new seatmate lacked sincerity. 
 
 Frank Merriwell was an acute observer ; he was a stu- 
 dent of human nature, and he was not deceived very 
 often. 
 
 It was true that they were dressed much alike; it was
 
 De Lancey Duncan. 73 
 
 true that their alligator grips were alike, and it was true 
 that they slightly resembled each other in other features. 
 
 Duncan held his grip on his knees, clinging fast to it. 
 Frank's rested on the floor at their feet. 
 
 The train was running through Northern Indiana. 
 Prairie lands lay on both sides of the track. At times 
 they passed little collections of wooden houses, built in 
 straight lines, every house looking like every other house, 
 and all looking desolate and lonesome, for all of com- 
 panionship. Sometimes these little houses were uplifted 
 on posts that held them free from the ground, often they 
 were surrounded J)y dirty children, and slattern women 
 lounged in the doors to watch the train pass. 
 
 There were villages that seemed strangely flat and mo- 
 notonous to Frank's unaccustomed eyes. He had begun 
 to feel bored, and had been covertly admiring the profile 
 of a pretty girl who sat opposite. De Lancey Duncan 
 seemed a welcome diversion, and then came that feeling 
 of distrust. 
 
 Frank was a believer in first impressions. He had 
 found that, in almost every case, with him first impres- 
 sions were right impressions. 
 
 But he resolved to study Duncan ; it would take up his 
 time give him something for amusement. 
 
 Having settled himself in the seat, Duncan looked 
 around nervously. 
 
 Frank was watching. He saw Duncan's eyes and the 
 eyes of the pretty girl opposite meet, and then the girl 
 looked away quickly. 
 
 Duncan turned to Frank once more. 
 
 "First visit to Chicago?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You will enjoy it," assured De Lancey, patronizingly. 
 "You can't help it. Now, I have traveled; I've been 
 around in this country quite extensively, and I've crossed 
 the pond. Ever been over?" 
 
 Frank was forced to confess that he had not. De Lan- 
 cey smiled on him in a sympathizing, pitying way that 
 made Frank feel rather insignificant and rather angry. 
 
 "It's pleasant," declared Frank's new companion. 
 "London is a large city larger than Chicago. But 
 we've got plenty of ground out here we can expand
 
 74 De Lancey Duncan. 
 
 without taking in Long Island, New Jersey, and the At- 
 lantic Ocean. We're not obliged to resort to any 
 'Greater New York' sort of scheme. Now, you may live 
 in New York; I may be rapping you." 
 
 "I do not live in New York, and you are not hitting 
 me. Go on, I find you very diverting." 
 
 "Thank you," nodded De Lancey, accepting Frank's 
 words as a compliment. "As I said, Chicago has plenty 
 of room to spread out she is bound to spread. The 
 time is coming when she'll be the largest city in the 
 world, you bet !" 
 
 "That is possible." 
 
 "Possible, possible ! My boy, it is certain, it is assured. 
 If you study Chicago fairly and without prejudice, you 
 will soon agree with me. Friends in the city ?" 
 
 "I expect so." 
 
 "Expect what do you mean ?" 
 
 "That I expect to meet some friends when I arrive 
 there." 
 
 "Where do you stop?" 
 
 "Palmer House." 
 
 "Now, why do you stop there? There are other ho- 
 tels the Great Northern, Grand Pacific, Leland, and a 
 score more with advantages superior to the Palmer 
 House." 
 
 "I anticipate that my friends have arrived at the Pal- 
 mer House, and engaged rooms." 
 
 "Oh, that's it ? That's different. How did it happen ?" 
 
 "We were in New York together, and I had some busi- 
 ness that took me to my home. While I attended to thr.t, 
 my friends came on to Chicago, and I followed as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 "I see, I see. Traveling for pleasure?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 De Lancey Duncan regarded Frank with renewed in- 
 terest. 
 
 "That's pleasant. Why don't you go abroad?" 
 
 "I am going; but my uncle especially directed in his 
 will that I was to see something and know something of 
 my own country before going abroad. In some respects, 
 my uncle was odd and original. Unlike most Americans, 
 he believed that a man should know his own country be-
 
 De Lancey Duncan. 75 
 
 fore visiting others, so he could answer questions. He 
 held in derision the cads who rush over to London and 
 Paris and visit the Alps and the Rhine without having 
 seen Niagara Falls, the Rocky Mountains, the Yosemite, . 
 or Yellowstone Park." 
 
 Frank meant this for a rap, but De Lancey took it as 
 cool as could be. 
 
 "Your uncle was quite right, Merriwell," he said. "The 
 wonders of our own country are well worth seeing. I 
 presume your uncle was a rich old chump who never saw 
 much of anything himself. Such old chaps always think 
 they know a heap. They give me lassitude. About all 
 they are good for is to die and leave their rocks to some 
 of us young fellows who know how to blow the cash." 
 
 Frank drew back from Duncan, for this sort of a speech 
 was decidedly offensive. 
 
 But De Lancey did not notice Merriwell's movement; 
 he was looking round again in that nervous, excited way, 
 while his fingers seemed to clutch the alligator grip with 
 a tenacious clasp, as if he feared it would be taken from 
 him. 
 
 Something made Frank wonder what the grip con- 
 tained. Why did its owner cling to it so persistently ? 
 
 "There is something about this fellow that's not square , 
 and aboveboard," was Frank's mental decision. 
 
 The train whistle blew for a crossing, and Duncan 
 started, seeming to turn pale. Then he settled back on 
 . the seat with a breath of relief. 
 
 Frank wondered still more. De Lancey Duncan was 
 strangely nervous and excitable for a healthy youth. He 
 seemed to fear something seemed to dread some danger. 
 
 Once more Duncan began to talk, and he seemed to 
 rattle on in a way intended to hide his nervousness, but 
 which made it all the plainer to Frank. He insisted in 
 giving the lad from the East "tips" and "pointers" about 
 Chicago, as he called them. 
 
 It was not long before Frank made a rather interesting 
 discovery. Duncan did not seem to be talking about 
 what he had seen and knew, although he thus pretended ; 
 on the contrary, he was quoting freely from a guidebook 
 that Frank had in his grip at that moment. 
 
 That set Frank to wondering if his companion was a
 
 ;6 De Lancey Duncan. 
 
 native of Chicago, as he plainly wished to appear, or if 
 he was pretending to be a native for some reason known 
 to himself alone. 
 
 Once or twice the fellow glanced in a peculiar manner 
 at the girl across the aisle, but, after that first glance, 
 she seemed to notice him not at all. 
 
 All at once Duncan stopped in the midst of a speech 
 and started. 
 
 The front door of the car had opened to admit a rather 
 rough-looking man, whose right leg had been cut off 
 above the knee, and who wore a stout wooden peg in 
 place of the missing limb. The man had sandy whiskers 
 around the lower part of his face, but his upper lip, his 
 cheeks, and his chin were shaved. Somehow he looked 
 like an old sailor, and a tough old sailor at that. 
 
 The man closed the door hastily, and his eyes ran over 
 the faces of the passengers in the car. 
 
 Stump, thump, stump, thump, stump, thump down 
 the aisle of the car came the man with the wooden leg. 
 He looked at De Lancey Duncan, and De Lancey Duncan 
 looked at him. The man held his clinched left hand be- 
 fore him, with the thumb, short and stubbed, pointing 
 upward. De Lancey Duncan caught his breath, and 
 nearly fell off the seat, dropping the alligator grip. 
 
 Stump, thump, stump, thump the man with the 
 wooden leg continued on his way down the aisle. 
 
 The engine slowed up for a station. 
 
 "Excuse me," fluttered Duncan. "We stop here. I 
 expect to see a friend at the station. Will return pres- 
 ently." 
 
 He caught up the alligator grip, and hastened toward 
 the rear of the car. 
 
 "Well, there's something decidedly queer about that, 
 or I'm a wooden-headed Injun!" thought Frank Mem- 
 well.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 \s> 
 
 THE WRECK. 
 
 The train stopped. In a moment a man came into the 
 car in which Frank Merriwell was sitting. He was 
 dressed in black, and his eyes were keen and piercing. 
 He passed Frank, at whom he glanced sharply, and took 
 a seat directly behind the boy. 
 
 In a few moments the train began to move again, and 
 it was soon drawing out of the town. 
 
 Frank looked for De Lancey Duncan to return, but that 
 youth did not put in an appearance. 
 
 "He said he'd come back. Wonder if he has left us,' 1 * 
 
 Frank took a fancy to examine his guidebook, and see 
 just how accurate Duncan had been in his quotations, so 
 he picked up the alligator grip and attempted to open it. 
 It did not yield readily to his touch. 
 
 "Didn't know I locked it," muttered Frank, as he 
 fumbled in his pocket for his keys, which he quickly 
 brought forth. 
 
 Selecting the righ%key, he quickly unlocked the grip, 
 which seemed strangely stuffed with something, and im- 
 mediately sprang open when released by the lock. 
 
 Then Frank Merriwell uttered an exclamation of utter 
 amazement, staring wildly at the contents of the grip. 
 
 For it was stuffed to overflowing with packages of 
 bright new twenty-dollar banknotes ! 
 
 Little wonder Frank was astonished. 
 
 The girl across the aisle uttered a little shriek, and 
 seemed fully as amazed as Frank. 
 
 "What does this mean?" gasped the boy. "This does 
 not belong to me !" 
 
 "Very well," said a cold, even voice in Frank's ear ; "I 
 will take charge of it, and of you also." 
 
 A hand came over the bewildered lad's shoulder and 
 snapped the grip closed, while another hand fastened on 
 Frank Merriwell's collar.
 
 78 The Wreck. 
 
 Frank looked up and saw the man in black who had 
 entered the car at the last station. 
 
 "What what do you mean ?" stammered the dazed lad. 
 "There is some mistake here." 
 
 "I fancy so," smiled the man, grimly, "and you made 
 it. You can't work your little game so easy. The 
 cipher message was intercepted and read. Result, you 
 are nabbed." 
 
 "But I tell you there is a mistake!" panted Frank. 
 "This is not my grip! I don't know how it came here. 
 Yes, I do!'' he almost shouted. "The other fellow the 
 boy who looks like me he dropped it !" 
 
 "So there is a boy who looks like you," sarcastically 
 asked the man in black. "That gag is stale; it won't 
 work, my fly youngster. You are caught, and that's the 
 size of it." 
 
 "Wait listen! I am telling you the truth. There 
 was another boy he came and sat with me. Said his 
 name was De Lancey Duncan. He looked something 
 like me, was dressed like me, carried an alligator grip 
 like mine." 
 
 "Anything else?" 
 
 "Yes, lots. He acted nervous." 
 
 "So do you." 
 
 "Give me a show ; I'll explain it all." 
 
 "Go ahead. I am curious to hear what kind of a fairy 
 tale you can invent." 
 
 "He talked about Chicago, but, from his talk, I mis- 
 trusted that he had never been there. He tried to appear 
 free and easy, but he was excited." 
 
 "You're doing first-rate." 
 
 "Just before the train pulled into the last station " 
 
 "Known as Valparaiso." 
 
 " a man with sandy whiskers and a wooden leg en- 
 tered the car. When he passed this seat, he clinched his 
 left hand and held up his thumb like this. My seatmate 
 started and dropped his grip, which he had been carrying 
 on his knees. Then, when the train whistled for Val- 
 paraiso, he caught up one of the grips and dusted out, 
 saying he was going to meet a friend. He must have 
 taken my grip and left his own; and he didn't come 
 back."
 
 The Wreck. 9 79 
 
 The man in black smiled again. It was a cold, in- 
 credulous smile. 
 
 ''You do first-rate," he said, scoffingly. "You have 
 concocted a fine story on the spur of the moment; but it 
 doesn't go down for a cent." 
 
 "You do not believe me ?" 
 
 "Not a great deal." 
 
 "I can prove it I will prove it !" palpitated Frank, in 
 distress. "The young lady across the aisle she saw him. 
 Didn't you, miss?" 
 
 The girl's face was pale, and she shook her head. 
 
 "Really, I do not remember," she declared. "I did not 
 notice him." 
 
 "You can't work the rifle, my hearty," said the man in 
 black. "You answer the description, and you are the 
 chap I want. Here, on they go !" 
 
 He had produced a pair of handcuffs, and he attempted 
 to snap them on Frank's wrists; but he found that was 
 no simple trick, as he quickly discovered. 
 
 "Wait a moment!" cried the lad. "Tell me what it 
 means first." 
 
 "It means that you are arrested." 
 
 "And you are an officer?" 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 "It is an outrage!" cried Frank. "I can prove who I 
 am. I appeal to the other passengers. Surely some of 
 them saw the other boy and the man with the wooden 
 leg." 
 
 "I don't care if there were twenty other boys and forty 
 men with wooden legs!" growled the officer. "I have 
 you, and you are the chap I want. It is useless to resist. 
 I shall have to handle you roughly if you do, and " 
 
 He was interrupted by a crash, a shock that hurled man 
 and boy off their feet, wild shrieks, groans, chaos, con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Bruised, battered, bewildered, Frank found himself 
 hemmed in by broken timbers and surrounded by groan- 
 ing and shrieking passengers. He quickly understood 
 that there had been a terrible accident, and the train was 
 derailed. 
 
 Cars had been smashed and splintered, and Frank won- 
 dered why he was not instantly killed.
 
 8o The Wreck. 
 
 He found himself penned in an arch of timbers, but 
 beyond a few severe bruises he seemed quite uninjured. 
 
 As for the man in black, he seemed to have utterly and 
 completely disappeared. 
 
 "Help! Save me!" 
 
 It was a feminine cry of distress, and it sounded near 
 at hand, but Frank could see no one in the darkness of 
 the wreckage. 
 
 "Where are you?" he called. 
 
 "Here, here close at hand !" 
 
 He reached between some broken timbers and touched 
 the person who had called. His hand was clasped by 
 another, small, soft, warm the hand of a girl. 
 
 "It must be the girl who sat opposite," thought Frank. 
 
 Then he asked : 
 
 "Are you badly hurt?" 
 
 "I don't know," was the answer. "I am terribly shaken 
 up, and I cannot move here. Please get me out!" 
 
 "I'll do it if I can." 
 
 He fell to work, but he could not seem to exert all his 
 strength in that cramped space. However, he made some 
 progress, and she encouraged him. 
 
 "You are the boy who was arrested ?" she asked. 
 
 "I am the boy somebody tried to arrest," said Frank; 
 "but this accident made the attempt a failure." 
 
 "Where is that man?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 "He isn't with you ?" 
 
 "He doesn't seem to be." 
 
 "Perhaps he was killed." 
 
 It seemed to Frank that she said this as if she really 
 hoped such a thing had happened. 
 
 In the course of a few moments, Frank succeeded in 
 making an opening large enough to enable him to drag 
 her through, and he found it was indeed the girl to whom 
 he had appealed. She did not appear to be injured at 
 all. 
 
 "So far so good," said Frank. "Now we must get 
 out of this pen. Here seems to be the remnants of a 
 car window. Possibly we may be able to creep out 
 beyond. I'll try it, and, if I am successful, you may 
 follow."
 
 The Wreck. 81 
 
 He went ahead, and, by considerable exertion, suc- 
 ceeded in getting through the opening and making a way 
 to the open air. Then he called to the girl, and she fol- 
 lowed him. 
 
 Looking around, Frank beheld a scene of indescribable 
 confusion. Four passenger coaches had been derailed, 
 and were piled in a confused heap beside the track. The 
 one in which Frank had been riding had suffered the 
 most, being shattered in a terrible manner, so that the boy 
 wondered how one of its occupants had escaped a fright- 
 ful death. 
 
 "We may consider ourselves lucky," he observed to the 
 girl. "How we pulled out so well I do not know." 
 
 Men were at work on the wreckage laboring to extri- 
 cate the unfortunate passengers pinned beneath. Frank 
 spoke to one of them. 
 
 "How did the accident happen?" he asked. 
 
 "Dunno. Must have been a defective axle, flaw in a 
 wheel, or something of that sort," was the answer. 
 
 Frank turned to speak to the girl again, but paused with 
 his mouth open, staring about him. 
 
 She was gone !
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 . ESCAPE AND PURSUIT. 
 
 "Didn't stop to say thank you," muttered Frank. 
 "Skipped without a word." 
 
 He fancied she must be near at hand, and something 
 caused him to search about for her. But she had van- 
 ished in a singular manner, and he found no trace of her. 
 
 Then Frank set about assisting in the work of rescue ; 
 but he found his aid was not required, as there were 
 already more persons thus employed than could labor to 
 advantage. 
 
 The cars had not taken fire, consequently the horrors 
 of a conflagration were not added to the catastrophe. 
 
 Frank was decidedly uneasy, for he knew not what mo- 
 ment might witness him again in the grasp of an officer of 
 the law. He made inquiries concerning the possibility of 
 getting on to Chicago without delay, and was informed 
 that a local train left Valparaiso within forty minutes by 
 one of the other roads which passed through the place. 
 
 How could he reach Valparaiso within forty minutes? 
 That was a question that began to trouble him. 
 
 The point at which the catastrophe occurred was within 
 a short distance of the main highway for teams, but it was 
 a sure thing that he could not walk to Valparaiso within 
 the time that would elapse before the local pulled out for 
 Chicago. 
 
 As he was meditating on the situation he observed a 
 bicycle amid the wreck of the baggage car. 
 
 "Great Scott!" muttered the boy. "If I owned that 
 wheel, I could make the town and catch that train." 
 
 The bicycle did not appear to be damaged at all, and 
 Frank wondered if he could not find the owner and buy 
 it. Perhaps the owner was dead, but Frank decided to 
 look for him. 
 
 He did not look far. From the wreck he saw some 
 men dragging a man whose clothes we-<? tarv * n
 
 Escape and Pursuit. 83 
 
 seemed to b'e somewhat injured, although it was evident at 
 a glance that he was not seriously hurt. 
 
 That person was the man in black the very one who 
 had attempted to arrest Frank ! 
 
 "Jingoes !" gasped the staring boy. "He's all right, 
 and he'll nab me if I linger here. I must light out lively." 
 
 He was right. The man saw him, struggled to his 
 feet, pointed a shaking finger at him, and shouted : 
 
 "Stop that boy!" 
 
 "I guess not!" palpitated Frank. "You'll have to get 
 a hustle on if you do." 
 
 He made a rush for the baggage car, hearing the man 
 cry out something else, hearing other men shout at him, 
 knowing he was liable to be seized and detained if he fal- 
 tered. 
 
 "I'll have to borrow that wheel, even if I can't find the 
 owner; but I'll leave it at the station in Valparaiso, and 
 tell somebody how I came by it. Hope the owner will get 
 it all right, if he is lucky enough to come out of this scrape 
 with his life." 
 
 He grasped the wheel, lifted it lightly, clambered out of 
 the ruins, put it down and ran down toward the road, 
 pushing it along. 
 
 Several men were running toward him, as he saw by 
 casting one fleeting glance over his shoulder. 
 
 "Stop ! stop ! You're wanted !" 
 
 They were shouting at him, and he set his teeth reso- 
 lutely, made a flying leap, and landed in the saddle. His 
 feet caught the pedals in a twinkling, and he bent to his 
 task, half laughing : 
 
 "Come on ! You are welcome to catch me if you can." 
 
 For a short distance the grass interfered with his loco- 
 motion, but he soon reached the road, into which he 
 wheeled, heading toward Valparaiso. 
 
 "Stop !" roared the men. 
 
 "Good-by!" cried Frank, with a defiant wave of his 
 hand. 
 
 Then he leaned far over the handle-bars, and worked 
 the pedals, swiftly. In truth, there was little chance for 
 the pursuers to overtake Frank Merriwell then. 
 
 But Frank did not know how hotly he would be pur-
 
 84 Escape and Pursuit. 
 
 sued; he did not know but a team might be pressed into 
 service to follow him. 
 
 "I'll give them a good race, anyway," he muttered. 
 
 In a few moments he had passed beyond view of the 
 wreck, and then he settled to a pace that he knew he could 
 hold straight through to Valparaiso. 
 
 Twice it was necessary to make inquiries where other 
 roads crossed the one he should follow, but within the 
 forty minutes he was in the town. 
 
 Without difficulty, he obtained directions to the station 
 he was seeking, and, on arriving there, he was informed 
 that he had ten minutes to wait for the train. 
 
 Frank disposed of the wheel he had confiscated, ex- 
 plaining that he had taken it from the wreck, and, as it 
 happened, he was the first to bear intelligence of such a 
 wreck to the town. He found himself questioned, pes- 
 tered, and pursued by astonished and incredulous persons, 
 and he became aware that he had obtained a sudden and 
 unenviable notoriety. 
 
 However, he talked as little as possible, and he took 
 care to secure a ticket for Chicago, as the ticket he had 
 purchased for the other line was taken up, and it would 
 not have been good over any but the roads named upon it 
 had he still held it in his possession. 
 
 Frank was nervous. Every minute seemed an hour, 
 and he kept his eyes open for pursuers. He had a horror 
 of being stopped, of being arrested there. He knew he 
 could not escape detention if such a thing as his arrest 
 should be made, and he would be put to trouble and ex- 
 pense to prove his identity and innocence. 
 
 Innocence of what ? That puzzled him. What had De 
 Lancey Duncan done? Had he stolen those crisp new 
 bank notes with which the alligator grip was stuffed ? "Of 
 course he had done something unlawful, for it was certain 
 the officer had attempted to arrest Frank through a mis- 
 taken belief that he was Duncan. 
 
 Frank was relieved when the train rolled in at the sta- 
 tion, and he made haste to get aboard. Still he watched 
 the streets leading to the station watched them with 
 keen anxiety. 
 
 "All aboard !"
 
 Escape and Pursuit. 85 
 
 The train was going to start ; the conductor was giving 
 the signal. 
 
 Who was that? A horseman coming down the street 
 at a mad gallop, the horse covered with foam, the man 
 waving his hand wildly. 
 
 "Great Jupiter !" gasped Frank. "It is the detective !"
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IN SPRIGGSBORO. 
 
 The train moved; the man was not seen by any one 
 about the station with the exception of Frank. 
 
 "Faster ! faster !" panted the boy. "If he makes them 
 see him, they may stop !" 
 
 He knew the man was shouting, and he seemed to 
 hear his cries. Urged by voice and hand, the horse was 
 fairly tearing down the street. 
 
 But the train was gaining speed. If the man were not 
 seen in a moment, he would not be seen at all. 
 
 The sjtation shut out Frank's view of the horseman. 
 The engine was puffing and snorting, the car wheels were 
 rolling faster and faster, and Frank Merriwell's heart 
 was growing lighter and lighter. 
 
 The train was fairly on its way at last, and the horse- 
 man had not been seen. 
 
 Looking back, Frank saw the man whirl around the 
 corner of the station and gaze in angry disappointment 
 after the departing train. For a moment he remained 
 thus, then he sprang from the horse to the station plat- 
 form, and rushed into the building. 
 
 "Wonder what that means ?" speculated the boy. "He 
 is up to some kind of a game. By Jove ! I know ! He'll 
 telegraph ahead I'll be arrested at the next station, 
 which is Spriggsboro !" 
 
 This thought put the boy in anything but a pleasant 
 frame of mind. At first it seemed that he would have 
 to submit to arrest, and then prove his innocence of any 
 charge against him, for he could scarcely conceive of any 
 other way out of it. 
 
 But Frank's stubborn side was fully aroused. He had 
 avoided arrest thus far, and he did not fancy submitting 
 now. He felt that it would be an acknowledgment of his 
 inability to outwit the officer, and he set about trying to
 
 In Spriggsboro. 87 
 
 devise some scheme for escaping any person who might 
 attempt to detain him at Spriggsboro, the next station. 
 
 "If I escape there, all the other stations will be warned 
 I'll find officers everywhere." 
 
 As he thought of this he became angry. What right 
 had any one to arrest and detain him? He had done 
 nothing to merit such treatment, and he would not stand 
 it. 
 
 It was easy enough to say he wouldn't stand it, but how 
 was he to get around it ? 
 
 "I'll try," muttered Frank. 
 
 "Tickets tickets !" 
 
 The conductor was coming through the train. When 
 he reached Frank he asked the boy if he were going 
 straight through without stop. Frank did not know, and 
 he said he might have to stop off somewhere before he got 
 into the city. So the conductor punched his ticket and 
 handed it back to him. 
 
 Frank wanted to ask questions; he opened his mouth 
 to do so, closed it again. 
 
 "No," he thought; "I'll not call too much attention to 
 myself. If I should ask too many questions, I might 
 somehow give away what I decided to do. I'll keep mum ; 
 I'll go it alone." 
 
 From Valparaiso to Spriggsboro is seven miles. Frank 
 was on the watch for Spriggsboro. He did not propose 
 to be taken into the town without knowing it; he was 
 ready for a move. 
 
 It did not take many minutes to make the run. The 
 engine gave a wild, doleful wail, after the fashion of all 
 the engines of the local trains running into Chicago. A 
 brakeman flung open the door of the car and squealed : 
 
 "Spreegs-burrah ! Spre-egs-burrah !" 
 
 "Now's my time," thought Frank. "If I'm going to 
 skip, I must get a move on right away." 
 
 He was in the last car. He arose and carelessly saun- 
 tered toward the rear. Opening the door, he stepped out 
 Dn the platform. A moment later he was down on the 
 steps, looking for a chance to swing to the ground. 
 
 Fortunately, there was no other person on the platform, 
 ind Frank found he was not to be hampered in any way. 
 The train was not a lightning express, and he believed he
 
 88 In Spriggsboro. 
 
 could make the jump successfully. Anyway, he was de- 
 termined to make the attempt. 
 
 The town limits had been entered; ahead was a cross- 
 ing. 
 
 "I'll try it there." 
 
 He made ready, swung down, let go, struck on his feet 
 like a cat, ran with the train, and did not fall. 
 
 "Very well," breathed the boy, with deep satisfaction, 
 as he stopped to stare after the train, thrusting his hat 
 back on his head and his hands deep in his pockets. 
 "What next?" 
 
 "Say, you're a dandy you are ! You did the trick slick, 
 and that's straight goods." 
 
 Frank looked around. A boy sat in a carriage near at 
 hand, clinging fast to the reins which lay along the back 
 of a dancing young horse. The horse had spirit and 
 snap, and it was plain the boy had driven him as near the 
 cars as possible, for the purpose of getting the animal ac- 
 customed to them. 
 
 "Out of the road," he called to Frank. "Ginger wants 
 to go, and when Ginger wants to go it isn't so very easy 
 to hold him. I don't want to run you down." 
 
 "Don't do it," said Frank. "Hold on a minute ; I want 
 to chin with you." 
 
 "Fire away, but make it lively. Ginger is getting 
 more an' more excited. He doesn't like to stand. Whoa, 
 there whoa, pony!" 
 
 "He seems to be a mettlesome animal. Can he travel ?" 
 
 "You bet ! He's a flyer !" 
 
 "Whose horse is he?" 
 
 "Mine." 
 
 "So?" 
 
 "Yep. Dad gave him to me if I'd stay at home another 
 year. You see, I'd tired of Spriggsboro, and I'm sick of 
 hoeing corn. I want to see the world I want to see 
 life whoa, Ginger ! Easy, boy ! Say, if you talk with me, 
 you'll have to get in here. Can't make him stand any 
 longer." 
 
 "In it is." 
 
 A moment later Frank was seated beside Ginger's own- 
 er, who gave the lively young horse rein, and away they 
 went.
 
 In Spriggsboro. 89 
 
 "Say," said Frank, "perhaps you are the very person 
 I am looking for. Do you want to make five dollars ?" 
 
 "Doll Well, say ! I don't get hold of V's every day. 
 Do I ! See me smile !" 
 
 "I found myself on the wrong route," explained Frank. 
 "Didn't want to lose time, and so I dropped off here to 
 look for somebody to set me right." 
 
 The stranger boy looked puzzled. It was plain this ex- 
 planation did not quite satisfy him ; but he refrained from 
 asking questions. He would not seem to insinuate that 
 Frank was not telling him the truth. 
 
 As for Frank, he was bound to stick as close to the 
 truth as possible. Surely he had found himself on the 
 wrong route. He could not tell everything ; it would not 
 do to tell too much. 
 
 "Now," continued Frank, "I want to get out of this 
 place right away. What's the name of the railroad to the 
 north of this town ?" 
 
 "Baltimore and Ohio." 
 
 "That's it. What's the name of the nearest station on. 
 the Baltimore and Ohio?" 
 
 "There are two about the same distance from here, and 
 they're McCool and Coburg. If anything, I reckon Mc- 
 Cool is the nearer." 
 
 "Let's see which place is nearer Chicago?" 
 
 "McCool by nearly twenty miles as the railroad runs." 
 
 "How far is it to McCool ?" 
 
 "Some say ten, some say twelve miles." 
 
 "Trains run often over the Baltimore and Ohio?" 
 
 "Pretty often." 
 
 "How is the road to McCool ?" 
 
 "Good." 
 
 "Land me there within an hour and a half, and I'll give 
 you a V." 
 
 "It's a bargain! I'll have to drive home to let dad 
 know, but that's on the road. I'd like to strike this sort 
 of a snap every day. Don't worry, Ginger; you'll have 
 plenty of chance to stretch your legs between here and 
 McCool."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 INTO C H 1C AGO. 
 
 And so, with scarcely any delay, without being molested 
 at all, Frank left Spriggsboro behind, and found himself 
 being whirled across the country toward McCool. 
 
 The autumn air was crisp and bracing, but the sun 
 shone brightly, and Frank's blood seemed to circulate 
 more freely in his veins. 
 
 The boy who owned the team said his name was Tom 
 Morgan, and the two lads were soon pretty well ac- 
 quainted. 
 
 Tom was a lively sort of lad, and he was afflicted with 
 a burning desire to get away from Spriggsboro and his 
 father's farm. 
 
 "Was born and raised out here," he said. "Never saw 
 any city but Chicago, never saw any water but Lake 
 Michigan, never saw any hills worth mentioning. I'm 
 sick of prairie land, I'm sick of most everything around 
 here. Where are you from? Did you ever see the 
 ocean ?" 
 
 Then Frank proceeded to entertain Tom, so that the 
 drive to McCool seemed remarkably short to the latter. 
 
 Frank kept looking his companion over. They were 
 nearly of the same height and build. The cloths that 
 would fit one ought to fit the other. 
 
 "When they find I have jumped 'em at Spriggsboro, it's 
 ten to one my description will be dispatched to every sta- 
 tion in Chicago. The police will be on the watch for me ; 
 I'll be nabbed when I arrive in the city." 
 
 Such a thing was not pleasant for Frank to contem- 
 plate, and he fell to studying on a, scheme to defeat the 
 officers. Tom Morgan was rather roughly dressed, his 
 clothes being in strong contrast to the natty traveling suit 
 worn by Frank. 
 
 "Look here, Tom," Frank finally said; "I'm going to 
 tell you something."
 
 Into Chicago. 91 
 
 "Let it come." 
 
 "First, I want you to take a square look at me, and say 
 if you think I'm crooked." 
 
 "Not on your life!" was the prompt return. "You're 
 white; I can see it sticking out all over you bigger'n a 
 house." 
 
 "Thank you, Tom. Now I will tell you just why I am 
 jumping from Spriggsboro to McCool." 
 
 "I know," grinned Tom. 
 
 "You do?" cried Frank, startled. 
 
 "That's what." 
 
 "Then why am I doing so?" 
 
 "You're running away," declared Morgan, astutely. 
 "Oh, I suspected it in the first place, and now I'm sure 
 of it." 
 
 "Well, I am," admitted Frank. 
 
 However, he did not explain from whom he was run- 
 ning away ; he left that as a matter for Tom's imagination 
 to work on. 
 
 "I don't blame you," asserted the young owner of the 
 team, "i've been tempted to run away myself. By jinks ! 
 I'm liable to do it some time !" 
 
 "Well, now," said Frank, "it's likely my description has 
 been sent on ahead, and I run a good chance of getting 
 nabbed almost inywhere." 
 
 "Likely. 1 ' 
 
 "I don't want to be nabbed." 
 
 "I believe K M 
 
 "And I'm going to try to fool 'em." 
 
 "Godhead!" 
 
 "Now, Tom, my clothes are a give-away, and I want 
 to get rid of them. They ought to fit you all right, and 
 yours ought to fit me. Let's exchange." 
 
 Tom's eyes bulged. 
 
 "I'd like to," he admitted, "but I ain't got the money 
 to pay the difference." 
 
 "There won't be any difference to pay." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "We'll trade even. I'll take your outfit, and you may 
 have mine. It will be a favor to me, for it may enable me 
 to avoid pursuit. What do you say?" 
 
 "Done."
 
 92 Into Chicago. 
 
 Out on the prairie where there were no houses near 
 the team stopped, and the two lads proceeded to exchange 
 clothing. It did not take them long to make the shift, 
 and it made a remarkable alteration in the appearance of 
 both. 
 
 Frank's clothes fitted Tom as if they had been made 
 for him, and the country boy was changed into a rather 
 spruce-looking chap. 
 
 "Get your hair cut, Torn, and you'll look fine," said 
 Frank. 
 
 The change in Merriwell was equally as marked. The 
 clothes seemed to transform him into a decidedly ordi- 
 nary-appearing boy, if one did not regard his sharp, clear- 
 cut face too closely. He pulled Tom's old lop-brimmed 
 hat far down on his head, so his neatly trimmed hair was 
 concealed. 
 
 This being done, they jumped into the carriage again, 
 and away Ginger whirled them toward McCool. 
 
 "Now, Tom," said Frank, "I want you to do me still 
 another favor." 
 
 "Name it." 
 
 "When you return to Spriggsboro, I want you to go 
 directly home, and I don't want you to show yourself in 
 town before this evening." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because I don't want any one to question you and find 
 out how you obtained these clothes, unless you are forced 
 to tell your own folks the truth. I want to have plenty 
 of time to get away without being stopped before it gets 
 abroad that I am not dressed as usual. Do you see ?" 
 < "Sure." 
 
 "And you'll do it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Good ! I'll make that V an X, and here it is." 
 
 He gave Tom a ten-dollar bill, which was received with 
 an exclamation of satisfaction. 
 
 "Say!" cried Tom Morgan, "won't I sport around 
 Spriggsboro for a while ! Well, I should murmur !" 
 
 Before long McCool was seen in the distance. 
 
 "I'll leave you outside the town," said Frank. "I'll 
 walk in. I'm bound to do this business in a way that will 
 enable me to escape detection if possible."
 
 Into Chicago. 93 
 
 So the horse was stopped beyond the limits of the place, 
 and the boys bade each other good-by. 
 
 "I won't forget you, Frank," declared Tom; "and I 
 hope we'll meet again some time." 
 
 "Hope so," said Frank. "Good-by." 
 
 "Good-by." 
 
 Tom turned Ginger back toward Spriggsboro, and 
 Frank trudged into McCool. He had the appearance of 
 a country boy, the walk of a country boy, and strangest 
 of all his face had changed till it looked like the face of 
 a rather stupid country boy. 
 
 Merriwell was a natural actor and mimic. He was 
 continually studying characters, and he had practiced in 
 altering the expression of his face. And now the friends 
 who knew him best might have passed him on the road 
 without recognizing him. 
 
 Straight to the railroad station he made his way, and 
 he found he had time to secure a square meal before the 
 next train departed for Chicago. As Frank was decided- 
 ly hungry, he secured the meal. 
 
 It was not far from mid-afternoon when he found him- 
 self on a train bound for Chicago. He was keeping up 
 his assumed character of a rather dull country boy, for he 
 did not know who might be a detective on that very train. 
 
 It was not long after leaving McCool before he obtained 
 his first view of Lake Michigan, the waters of which, to 
 his surprise, were dashing in dirty green waves against 
 the wooden pilings which protected the banks. Frank 
 had not expected that a fresh water lake would appear 
 that color. 
 
 Naturally, he felt nervous, for he knew not what might 
 happen when Chicago was reached. 
 
 Through the outlying towns and suburbs the train ran, 
 and it seemed to Frank that the station would never be 
 reached, even after he knew they had been in the city of 
 Chicago some time. 
 
 At last, however, the train pulled into the Baltimore 
 and Ohio Station on Fifth avenue, and Frank knew that 
 he was finally in Chicago. He left the train without 
 being troubled, and, unmindful of the howling carriage 
 drivers, entered the station. 
 
 Just ahead of him he observed a girl who was carrying
 
 94 Into Chicago. 
 
 an alligator grip that was strangely like the one he had 
 lost. Something led him to hasten his steps till he ob- 
 tained a fair look at her face. 
 
 He came near uttering a cry of astonishment. 
 
 "Caesar's ghost!" he gasped. "It's the girl I saved 
 from the wreck 1"
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 PLAYING THE SHADOW. 
 
 Frank Merriwell had an excellent memory for faces; 
 he seldom forgot a face he had once seen and taken note 
 of, and he knew he was not mistaken in this case. 
 
 "Caesar's ghost!" he repeated. "Where did she drop 
 from?" 
 
 She did not appear to be more than eighteen years of 
 age, but she had a self-reliant, independent air that fasci- 
 nated Frank and filled him with wonder. Plainly she 
 was a girl who cared little for the services of a chaperon. 
 
 Having satisfied himself that it was beyond a doubt 
 the girl he had dragged from the wreck, the boy's eyes 
 fell again on the alligator grip she carried. 
 
 "Is it mine, or is it De Lancey Duncan's?" speculated 
 Frank. "If it's mine, I want it ; if it's Duncan's, I don't 
 want it, for all of the money it contains. That money's 
 bound to get somebody into trouble." 
 
 He would have given much to know for a certainty 
 whether the grip belonged to him or not. It attracted 
 him, it filled him with doubts and fears, it dragged him 
 .after the girl like a loadstone. 
 
 "If she'd stop ! If she'd open the grip !" 
 
 But he knew there was not one chance in ten thou- 
 sand that she would do anything of the sort. Still, he 
 followed her, watching the grip with his keen eyes. 
 
 The girl left the station for the street, where horse cars 
 and cabs were plentiful. She moved to the corner of 
 Fifth avenue and Harrison street, and there she stood, 
 looking first one way and then the other. She seemed 
 somewhat perplexed. 
 
 "Expected to meet somebody here," thought Frank. 
 "Somebody isn't on hand. She doesn't know what to 
 do. Will she take a car, or will she not which will 
 she?" 
 
 A cab driver spotted her. He approached her, and
 
 96 Playing the Shadow. 
 
 asked her to patronize him. At first she shook her head, 
 but he continued to urge her. She took out a small gold 
 watch and glanced at it, after which she asked him 
 some questions, in reply to all of which he nodded, and 
 said: 
 
 "Of course I can ! I know every foot of the city. I'll 
 take you right there." 
 
 Frank heard him say that, and straightway Frank be- 
 gan to look around for another cab, for he saw the girl 
 hesitate, and then move along with the man. 
 
 "Look out, my boy," muttered Frank to himself ; "look 
 out, or you'll be left." 
 
 "Cab, sir cab?" 
 
 Frank glanced toward the girl. She was just entering 
 a cab, and he resolved to follow her. A red-faced, sandy- 
 bearded cabby had hailed him, and he was at the man's 
 side in a moment. 
 
 "Look!" he said, swiftly. "See that girl getting into 
 that cab?" 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 "I want to follow her." 
 
 Cabby looked Frank over, and the latter actually blushed 
 as he suddenly remembered that he looked awkward and 
 countryfied. 
 
 "Do I git me fare in advance ?" asked the driver. 
 
 In a moment Frank produced a five-dollar bill, which 
 he thrust into the fellow's greedy hand, asking : 
 
 "Is that enough ?" 
 
 "You bet ! I'll foller 'em anywhere in the city's limits. 
 Tumble in." 
 
 "If you have to go beyond the limits, I'll pay extra. 
 But you mustn't let the other fellow get away." 
 
 "He can't lose this child; don't you worry about that, 
 young feller." 
 
 Frank plunged into the cab, the door slammed, the man 
 sprang up to his seat, his whip snapped, and away they 
 went on the trail of the other cab. 
 
 "Never tried playing detective before," muttered the 
 boy in the cab. "It's new business to me, but there may 
 be something in it. I want my grip, but I want to know 
 more than anything else if the grip she has contains all
 
 Playing the Shadow. 97 
 
 that money or not. If so, she's sacking- around a fortune 
 in a mighty cool way. She's got nerve to let." 
 
 Up Harrison street, over the river, that was crowded 
 with all sorts of craft, and away, winding in and out, here 
 and there, went the two cabs. 
 
 Looking from the window, Frank sometimes caught 
 glimpses of the cab he was pursuing, and he began to be- 
 lieve his driver was attending strictly to business. 
 
 The quarter of the city into which they soon plunged 
 was wretched and dingy, and Frank fancied that the very 
 air was heavy with soft coal smoke. The pedestrians on 
 the streets had a dingy look, and cheap eating houses 
 abounded. 
 
 From that section they entered yet another, where 
 clothing stores abounded, all being of the Cheap John 
 class. 
 
 All at once, the cab turned sharply about, went back 
 around a corner, and stopped. 
 
 Cabby's florid face appeared at the door in a moment. 
 
 "Lively, young feller," he said. "They're around there 
 to the right. She's gittin' out. Get a move on, and you 
 won't lose her !" 
 
 "Good work !" complimented Frank, as he sprang out, 
 "Here, take it ! You've done first-rate." 
 
 He thrust a silver dollar into the man's hand. 
 
 Without stopping to hear cabby's thanks, Frank walked 
 briskly round the corner. 
 
 Sure enough, half a block away was the cab he had 
 hired the fellow to follow. The girl had left it, and she 
 was settling with the driver. There seemed to be some 
 disagreement, and the % girl appeared decidedly angry. 
 Finally, she gave the man some money, and he tipped his 
 hat, sullenly. 
 
 Then the girl walked on briskly, and the man stared 
 after her, muttering aloud. 
 
 Frank struck out after the girl, and, as he passed the 
 cab driver, he heard the man growl: 
 
 "That chick's altogether too fly for her age. Said I 
 overcharged. And now she's sprinting it! Didn't let 
 me take her all the way to the place where she wants to 
 go ! That's odd !" 
 
 "You're right," thought Frank, as he hurried onward;
 
 98 Playing the Shadow. 
 
 "but there are plenty of odd things connected with that 
 young lady. This has been a day of odd happenings, and 
 they may not be all over yet." 
 
 The girl turned a corner, looking back as she did so. 
 She looked straight past Frank, not seeming to notice him 
 at all. If she had looked straight at the boy, it is doubt- 
 ful if she would have recognized in the slouching, awk- 
 ward, country boy the neat and natty youth who dragged 
 her from the railroad wreck earlier in the day. 
 
 The girl did not stop ; she hastened along the street into 
 which she had turned, little dreaming there was a trailer 
 not far behind. 
 
 To Frank it seemed that she was trying to make sure 
 she was not followed, and the boy lost little time in tak- 
 ing the opposite side of the street; but he did not lose 
 sight of her for a single instant. 
 
 Another corner was reached by the girl, and she came 
 near colliding with a young fellow who came from an- 
 other direction, carrying an alligator grip in his hand. 
 
 Frank stared, and gasped : 
 
 "De Lancey Duncan !" 
 
 It was the breezy youth who had occupied the seat with 
 him on the train. 
 
 The grip which he carried was the counterpart of the 
 one in the possession of the girl. 
 
 "One of them belongs to me !" palpitated Frank. "It 
 must be the one Duncan has, for he got away with mine. 
 The other contains the money, I guess." 
 
 De Lancey Duncan and the girl both seemed aston- 
 ished. They stared at each other, and the grips they car- 
 ried. Then they spoke, and in a moment they were talk- 
 ing earnestly. 
 
 "They know each other !" came faintly from the lips of 
 Frank, who was nearly knocked breathless by this discov- 
 ery. "May I be shot !" 
 
 With every moment, Frank's interest and excitement 
 were increasing. He was mystified, perplexed, bewil- 
 dered. 
 
 The girl seemed to be accusing De Lancey Duncan of 
 something, and he, at first, was too astounded to reply. 
 When he would have opened the grip he carried, she
 
 Playing the Shadow. 99 
 
 stopped him, and Frank fancied he understood what had 
 passed between them. 
 
 "She charged him with making a blunder and getting 
 the wrong grip. That must be it." 
 
 All at once, boy and girl turned and walked along the 
 street together. 
 
 Frank followed. 
 
 Before long they came to a miserable little clothing 
 store, over the narrow door of which was the name of the 
 proprietor Solomon Moses. Into this store they went, 
 without hesitation. 
 
 "I mustn't get left now," muttered Frank, as he hastily 
 made his way across the street and followed them into the 
 store.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LEFT TO THE FLAMES. 
 
 Frank walked in, boldly. As he did so, he If 3rd a 
 Jewish voice saying: 
 
 "So you dit got along all righd? I don'd igsbect you 
 ven I hear vat Meesther Sullifan hat to say. I don'd 
 know but you pote been arresdet pefore dis." 
 
 "Oh, we're too soon for the cops, uncle," assured the 
 girl, airily. "But Bob would have made a mess of it if it 
 hadn't been for me. You see, he " 
 
 "Nefer mindt dat here," said the old Jew, swiftly check- 
 ing her. "Meeshter Sullifan vos in der pack room, untf 
 he peen glat to see you. Valk righd in." 
 
 He flung open the door, and the boy and girl entered 
 the back room. As they did so, Frank saw the same 
 wooden-legged man who had been on the train come 
 stumping toward them. 
 
 Then Frank allowed the door to slam, and Mr. Solomon 
 Moses turned and hobbled painfully toward the front of 
 the store, adjusting a pair of spectacles on his nose. Moses 
 was an old man, as the gray in his hair and beard indi- 
 cated, to say nothing of his decrepit gait and bent back. 
 
 "Vot coot I do vor you, mine friendt?" he asked, 
 blandly, looking Frank over. "You vant a suid er clodes 
 to-day, young shentleman ?" 
 
 "Wai, I dunno," drawled Frank, staring around. "I 
 kinder guess not, for I hain't got much money; but I'm 
 short of handkerchiefs, and marm she told me to git some 
 while I was in the city. I didn't know but I'd strike a 
 trade in here." 
 
 "Dot vos righd, mine son dot vos righd. I nefer gif 
 you any ding but a pargain. I vos goin' oud uf drade 
 pime-py, and I peen sellin' eferyding sheap. Vot you haf 
 von tozen uf dose peautiful ret pandanna handkershiefs, 
 vot sell eferyvare else vor dirty sends abiece, but vot I 
 iell vor fifteen sends, dwo for a gwarder, four for hallefer
 
 Left to the Flames. 101 
 
 tollar? You don'd peat dot vor a drade der whole cidy 
 in, young shentleman." 
 
 Moses hastened to display his handkerchiefs, and Frank 
 pretended to look them over. All the while the boy was 
 longing to walk straight into that back room and claim 
 his grip. 
 
 Frank began to think he had reached the end of his 
 rope. He had followed the girl to that place, had seen her 
 meet De Lancey Duncan, had seen them both met by the 
 man with the wooden leg ; but what did it amount to, after 
 all? He had not solved the mystery of the gripful of 
 money ; he had not even recovered his own grip. 
 
 What kind of a shop was this he found himself in ? He 
 looked around at the miserable stock, illy shown by the 
 light which sifted through the small, dirty windows, and 
 he could not conceive that the old Jew made a living by 
 selling clothing. 
 
 The face of the aged Jew was that of a scoundrel, and 
 Frank began to believe he had been led to a den of crooks. 
 
 Still, it was hard to believe that the pretty girl knew 
 anything of crooked ways. 
 
 How had De Lancey Duncan come by so much money, 
 unless it had been stolen? If it had been stolen, Frank 
 could readily understand why the officer had tried to ar- 
 rest him. 
 
 Frank was thinking of going out and telling his story to 
 the police, when he heard a wild shriek from somewhere 
 in the back of the building. The shriek was followed by 
 other cries, and, a few seconds later, a woman came burst- 
 ing out of the back room, screaming : 
 
 "Fire! Fire! Solomon Solomon Mosesh, der gazo- 
 lene sdove vos igsbloded, und der puilding vos afire !" 
 
 "Veil, don'd peen so igscidet, Repecca," advised the old 
 Jew, coolly. "I haf eferyding insured vor touble vat it 
 vos vort. Uf der vire engin' don'd ged aroundt too soon, 
 dot vire been a britty coot thing vor us." 
 
 Smoke began to roll out of the back of the building, 
 and Frank Merriwell saw his opportunity. In a moment 
 he darted into the back room, as if hurrying to aid in ex- 
 tinguishing the fire. 
 
 But he did not reach the room in which the fire was.
 
 102 Left to the Flames. 
 
 On a table in the first room he entered he saw both of the 
 alligator-skin grips. 
 
 "I am bound to recover my property," he muttered. 
 "But I wonder which one belongs to me ?" 
 
 He could not tell without opening them, and he imme- 
 diately unclasped the one nearest at hand. It was not 
 locked ; it flew open in a twinkling. 
 
 And once more Frank Merriwell gazed in fascination on 
 those packages of bright, new twenty-dollar bills ! 
 
 Frank must have stood thus some seconds, spellbound 
 and staring ; but he finally awoke, as from a trance, as the 
 smoke was swiftly growing dense in that room. 
 
 "This does not belong to me," he said, aloud; "there- 
 fore, the other grip must be mine." 
 
 He grasped it. As he did so, he realized there was 
 some one close behind him. A voice cried : 
 
 "Drop that!" 
 
 "Not much !" flashed Frank. "It's mine !" 
 
 He whirled, to confront De Lancey Duncan. No 
 longer did Frank try to alter the expression of his face 
 and the sound of his voice. Duncan knew him, and stag- 
 gered in amazement, gasping : 
 
 "It's it's the fellow I met on the train the fellow I 
 changed grips with!" 
 
 "You're right !" rang out Frank's voice. "I have traced 
 my grip here, and I mean to take it away. The other 
 one " 
 
 He never finished the sentence, for at that moment he 
 received a heavy blow on the head a blow that stretched 
 him helpless on the floor. He was not unconscious, for 
 he seemed to see the man of the wooden leg looking down 
 at him seemed to hear the man say : 
 
 "He's a spy he's dangerous ! Leave him here !" 
 
 Then they left him there, closing and locking the door 
 as they departed.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A STRANGE GIRL. 
 
 Stunned and dazed though he was, Frank Merriwell 
 seemed to fully realize his peril. He could hear the crack- 
 ling of the flames in an adjoining room, and could see 
 their glare. As soon as the door leading to the store was 
 closed, the room the boy was in began to fill with smoke. 
 
 But, though he understood what had happened though 
 he knew he had been abandoned to die in the flames, it was 
 some moments before he seemed able to throw off the 
 numbness that had grasped his entire body when he was 
 knocked to the floor. 
 
 At last, however, he stirred, he groaned, he lifted him- 
 self on his elbow. 
 
 Somehow, his first glance about was in search of the 
 alligator-skin grips. 
 
 "Gone!" came in a whisper from his lips. "Both 
 gone !" 
 
 Yes, both were gone; they had been taken away by 
 the heartless human beings who had left the boy to perish 
 as a spy in the flames. 
 
 Crackle ! Crackle ! He saw the fire spreading in the 
 next room: the glare seemed to sear his eyes, the heat 
 smote upon him, and he began to gasp for breath. He 
 coughed ; the smoke was getting too thick for him to 
 breathe. 
 
 "I must get out of here !" 
 
 His legs shook under him when he dragged himself to 
 his feet, and he found that he was very weak. There 
 was a roaring sound in his head, and cold fingers of iron 
 seemed to clutch, with crushing force, at his heart. 
 
 "Courage strength !" 
 
 He reeled to the door, but it seemed fast and solid be- 
 neath his touch. He fell against it, gasping, coughing, 
 strangling ; he beat upon it with his fists. 
 
 "Help ! Help !"
 
 104 A Strange Girl. 
 
 The cry was so faint that he knew it could not be h'&rd 
 beyond the bounds of the room he was in. 
 Was there no other avenue of escape ? 
 
 He faced about, and the yellow glare of the flames drove 
 him back against the door. The smoke caused tears to 
 blind his eyes, and a blood-red haze seemed to float all 
 about him. 
 
 The fire guarded the open door leading from that room. 
 
 "Trapped! Doomed!" murmured the boy. 
 
 He made one last, frantic effort he hammered on the 
 door with his clinched fists he kicked upon it with his 
 feet. 
 
 No use ! It withstood the shocks. 
 
 Down upon the floor sank Frank, overcome by weak- 
 ness and the smoke. The crackling of the flames seemed 
 to be the laughter of a hundred little demons. They were 
 pointing at him with fiery fingers they were reaching 
 into the room in search of him ! 
 
 Wild fancies began to flit through Frank's brain. The 
 flames seemed like a cohort of fantastic creatures dancing 
 a wild and merry dance; he heard funeral bells, and the 
 rumbling of an earthquake; then followed a wild strain 
 of music, and a long procession of black-robed figures 
 filed past. Suddenly the boy fancied himself alone in a 
 deserted city, where the sun beat down upon him with 
 terrible heat. He wondered how he came there, he won- 
 dered where the inhabitants of the city were, he wondered 
 how he could escape from the place. Then the lofty 
 buildings of the great city began falling, one by one, 
 crashing into the streets. 
 
 "He is in there somewhere ! Save him !" 
 
 He heard the words, as if they came from a great dis- 
 tance, and, for all of his condition, he recognized the 
 voice. 
 
 It was that of the strange girl he had rescued from the 
 railroad train wreck. 
 
 Then he felt himself lifted and carried swiftly from the 
 spot where he had fallen carried into the open air. 
 
 It was some moments later when Frank recovered, to 
 see a crowd of people in the street, to see a fire-engine 
 near at hand, with a column of black smoke and sparks
 
 A Strange Girl. 105 
 
 rolling from the stack, and to see firemen pouring water 
 into the burning building. 
 
 "How do you feel ? You are better ?" 
 
 The girl was close beside him, and he was propped on 
 some steps, with his back against a brick wall. He looked 
 at her, and he saw fear and anxiety expressed on her 
 face. 
 
 "How did I get out ?" Frank faintly whispered. 
 
 "The firemen brought you out," explained the girl. 
 "They smashed down the door and brought you out here." 
 
 "You you told them where to find me; I heard your 
 voice directing them." 
 
 "Yes, I told them. You helped me out of the wreck; 
 I was not going to leave you there to die." 
 
 "Good girl!" 
 
 "No!" she cried, in a way that astonished Frank, "i 
 am a bad girl a wicked girl ! But I am not bad enough 
 to desire the death of any one." 
 
 "I won't forget you !" 
 
 "Nor will I forget you !" 
 
 "What's your name ?" 
 
 "Never mind. It would do you no good to know. I 
 must leave you in a moment, and we'll never meet again/ 1 
 
 "We may." 
 
 "Not if I can prevent it. I want to warn you. Be 
 careful ! You followed us, and it came near leading you 
 to death. Be careful! You do not know Solomon 
 Moses you do not know Bardy Sullivan. Be careful, I 
 say!" 
 
 "Be careful of what? I do not understand you. I 
 followed to recover my grip." 
 
 "Nonsense! There was nothing of great value in it. 
 You followed because you saw what the other grip con- 
 tained. You cannot deceive me." 
 
 "Well, if you cannot be deceived, then tell me to whom 
 all that money in the other grip belongs." 
 
 "I knew it !" cried the girl. "I knew it was that which 
 had aroused your curiosity ! The money was not stolen, 
 not a dollar of it I'll swear to that !" 
 
 "But the officer "
 
 506 A Strange Girl. 
 
 "The one who tried to arrest you ? Ha 1 That was a 
 joke!" 
 
 "On me yes." 
 
 "On the officer, as well. But you are all right now. I 
 can't talk with you more I must leave you. I would 
 not leave you for the fire. I skipped them I slipped 
 back I told the firemen you were in there. Now, we are 
 square for what you did for me. I always like to square 
 my debts." 
 
 Frank was strangely interested in this most singular 
 girl. She was bright as a new dollar, and as self-reliant 
 as a man of the world. The boy had never before seen 
 a girl quite like this one. Somehow, he could not help 
 feeling admiration for her, although some of her ways as- 
 tonished him. 
 
 The crowd in the street was growing denser. Reddish 
 flames flared out from some of the windows of the burn- 
 ing building, flinging a ruddy glare against other build- 
 ings across the street, lighting the features of the strange 
 girl, for it was growing dark with the coming of night. 
 
 She drew away. 
 
 "I must leave you now. Good-by." 
 
 Still weak and unsteady, Frank got upon his feet. With 
 an impulse of chivalry, he reached to lift his hat, but 
 found it was gone. Then, with a still bolder impulse, he 
 held out his hand. 
 
 "Won't you take it?" he asked. 
 
 She hesitated ; then she placed her warm fingers in his 
 grasp, and her face was half turned away. 
 
 "Thank you, miss," he said, sincerely; "thank you for 
 telling the firemen where to find me." 
 
 "Oh, don't thank me !" she cried, petulantly. "I don't 
 deserve thanks I don't deserve anything !" 
 
 "Yes, you do you deserve a good beating !" 
 
 The voice was hoarse with anger, and the man with the 
 wooden leg appeared at her side. He clutched her arm, 
 he savagely pulled her away. 
 
 "Come !" he grated. "A pretty mess you'd make !" 
 
 "Stop !" cried Frank. "If you harm her " 
 
 The man paid no heed to those words. He was hurry- 
 ing away with the girl, and both were swallowed by the
 
 A Strange Girl. 107 
 
 swaying crowd that watched the firemen fighting the 
 flames. 
 
 Weak, swaying, uncertain, Frank tried to follow. The 
 pack of human beings closed before him, and he had not 
 the strength to force his way through. 
 
 "It's useless !" murmured the boy. "I cannot follow I"
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A NEW DANGER. 
 
 Unsteady, uncertain, dismayed by his own weakness, 
 Frank was forced to seek the curbing and sit down once 
 more. His lungs still seemed filled with smoke, and he 
 coughed painfully. There was a dull throbbing in his 
 head. 
 
 For some time Frank sat and rested, and he gained 
 strength with each passing moment. 
 
 He wondered at the strange things that had happened 
 to him during the day, and, but for the clothes he wore, 
 but for his throbbing head and aching lungs, he might 
 have fancied he had dreamed it all. 
 
 There was a mystery about the strange girl, the youth 
 who had given his name as De Lancey Duncan, and the 
 fierce old man with the wooden leg a mystery Frank 
 Merriwell would have given much to solve. 
 
 The man had looked very fierce when he appeared and 
 clutched the girl by the arm, and she had seemed strangely 
 submissive for one of her independence and spirit. 
 
 "He's her master she's afraid of him," thought Frank. 
 "She has to do as he says. He was the one who gave me 
 the tap on the head, and he left me to roast. I won't for- 
 get her ; I won't forget him !" 
 
 He got upon his feet. Something led him to search 
 through the crowd for some one of the mysterious trio; 
 but he could not find a trace of them. 
 
 It was getting dark. 
 
 "I must report at the Palmer House," thought Frank. 
 "The professor and Hans expected me hours ago. They 
 will hear of the accident, and they'll think I was killed." 
 
 He was disinclined to leave the locality, and he resolved 
 to know how to find his way back there, so he learned the 
 name of the street, and the number of the burning build- 
 ing. 
 
 Frank walked away, although he knew not which direc-
 
 A New Danger. 109 
 
 tion to pursue. He looked for a cab, but cabs were de- 
 cidedly scarce in that part of the city. 
 
 ''I must have different clothing from this suit I have 
 on," he decided. "I do not fancy I would be admitted to 
 the Palmer House in this rig." 
 
 He looked for a clothing store where it seemed that he 
 might obtain a ready-made suit that would do. for the 
 time. There were plenty of Jew stores, but it was some 
 time before he came upon one that looked promising. 
 
 He found a dark gray suit that fitted him as well as if 
 it had been cut expressly for him. He bought a hat, shirt, 
 collar, cuffs, necktie, and such other articles as he re- 
 quired and could obtain there, and then he set out to look 
 for a shoe store. This he soon found, and he exchanged 
 the coarse boots of the country boy for a pair of easy- 
 walking shoes. 
 
 In this place he made inquiries concerning the way to 
 proceed to reach the Palmer House. For a wonder, the 
 shoe dealer was able to direct him so that he could obtain 
 a car that would let him off within half a block of the 
 hotel. In order to reach the car, Frank found it neces- 
 sary to walk half a mile, but his strength had returned, so 
 he did not mind that. 
 
 Directed by one or two policemen, he made his way 
 straight to the nearest spot where he could take the car, 
 and he felt relieved when he got aboard and heard the 
 conductor assure him that he was all right. 
 
 Frank was so thoroughly used up that he did not have 
 enough interest in his surroundings to look out of the 
 car window, and he was in a doze when the conductor 
 touched him on the shoulder, and called : 
 
 "State street Palmer House !" 
 
 Thanking the conductor, much to that person's surprise, 
 Frank quickly left the car, and, a few moments later, he 
 entered the Palmer House. 
 
 Frank's first act was to examine the register, on which 
 he soon found the names of Professor H. O. T. Scotch 
 and Hans Dunnerwust. Frank registered, told the clerk 
 who he was, and was immediately given a key to the suite 
 of rooms engaged by the professor. 
 
 "Professor Scotch is out at present," explained the 
 clerk.
 
 no A New Danger. 
 
 Frank saw that his trunk check was given to the proper 
 person, who, on being tipped half a dollar, assured him 
 that the trunk should be brought as soon as possible. 
 
 Then the boy took the elevator and ascended to the 
 rooms engaged by the professor. 
 
 "Well," muttered Frank, as he let himself in, "I may 
 consider myself a lucky fellow to be here at all. The ad- 
 ventures of this day have been enough to take away a fel- 
 low's breath. I've been arrested, been in a railroad 
 smash-up, been pursued by an officer, skipped across coun- 
 try to dodge the fellow, been left to roast in a fire and I 
 still live! If this sort of thing keeps up, I'm afraid I'll 
 have to give over traveling, as it may prove detrimental to 
 my health." 
 
 He did not find Hans awaiting him, as he had half ex- 
 pected, but there was a note from the professor, which said 
 they had gone out together, and did not know just when 
 they would return. 
 
 Frank found there was a bath connected with the suite, 
 and it did not take him long to undress and take a plunge 
 in a brimming tub. A brisk rubbing with a rough towel 
 set his blood to circulating and his flesh to glowing, and 
 he felt like a new boy when he was dressed once more. 
 
 "Well," he half laughed, "I don't know but I'm good 
 for another day like the one past." 
 
 Frank was hungry, and he resolved not to wait for the 
 professor and Hans, so he descended to the dining-room 
 at once. The amount of food he was able to stow away 
 made the eyes of the waiter bulge, but Frank found the 
 waiter very attentive and courteous, and he tipped the fel- 
 low liberally. 
 
 Frank had fancied that he would find himself quite used 
 up and ready to rest when he had eaten, and he was sur- 
 prised to discover that he had recovered so that he did 
 not feel like resting quietly in his rooms. 
 
 For a while he waited the appearance of the professor 
 and Hans, wondering why they did not return; but he 
 finally decided to go out and take a brisk walk, although 
 he was not provided with a top-coat, and a raw breeze 
 from the lake was cutting through the streets. 
 
 Leaving the hotel, the clanging cable oars on State street
 
 A New Danger. m 
 
 made him think of Broadway. He crossed State street, 
 and wandered whither his fancy led him. 
 
 By chance, he strolled into the very heart of the business 
 quarter, and he gazed in wonder at the lofty office-build- 
 ings on every side of him, fairly bewildered by their num- 
 ber and their height. 
 
 His stroll finally led him to the Clark street viaduct, 
 which extends over the Chicago River and the railroad 
 tracks on the north bank. 
 
 The scene from the viaduct interested Frank, and he 
 stood a long time watching the shipping strung along the 
 wharves which lined each bank of the river. In mid- 
 stream many boats, bearing colored lights, were moving to 
 and fro, and the puffing, fussing little tugs were constantly 
 shrieking signals at each other. Down the river a swing- 
 ing bridge opened now and then to let some craft through. 
 
 Frank was completely absorbed in what he saw, and 
 was quite unaware that he had been dogged, step by step, 
 since leaving the hotel, as he was also unaware that he 
 had been tracked to the hotel when he left the vicinity of 
 the fire from which he had had such a narrow escape. 
 
 At last, he moved on across the viaduct, and the shad- 
 ows, two in number, were close upon his heels. 
 
 A train was approaching from the west as Frank 
 reached that part of the viaduct above the tracks, and he 
 paused to watch it pass below. 
 
 Then the pursuers darted forward, and were upon him, 
 as, at that moment, neither horse car nor foot traveler 
 happened to be passing. 
 
 "Over with "him !" snarled a harsh voice. "Drop him 
 on the track, and he'll never play the spy any more !"
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A TEMPERANCE DRINK. 
 
 Frank had heard that voice before. He knew the man 
 of the wooden leg was there. At least two other ruffians 
 were with him. 
 
 Frank felt himself clutched, lifted, poised for the drop 
 that should land him in the path of certain death. 
 
 Snorting like an enraged monster, its headlight gleam- 
 ing like a fiery Cyclopean eye, breathing forth smoke and 
 sparks, the locomotive came thundering on. 
 
 In another moment the boy would be hurled down to 
 death upon the track would be stunned by the fall and 
 crushed and mutilated beneath the whirling wheels. 
 
 Life was sweet to Frank, and it surely was worth a 
 struggle. Twisting about, he succeeded in clutching both 
 the men who held him. 
 
 "If I go, you go with me !" he panted. 
 
 Near at hand was the man with the wooden leg, and he 
 snarled : 
 
 "Over with him ! Be quick, or the train will pass !" 
 
 The ruffians struggled to break the hold of the lad, but 
 Frank was hanging on for dear life, and he could not be 
 jast off. 
 
 Beneath the viaduct roared the train, and a cry of baf- 
 fled rage came from the lips of the man with the wooden 
 leg. 
 
 "You blundering fools !" he grated. "What's the mat- 
 ter with you ?" 
 
 "He's worst than an octopus, boss !" declared one of 
 the men. 
 
 "He sticks like a plaster," asserted the other. 
 
 "And you've fooled till it's too late ! Some one is com- 
 ing ! Slug him, and skip !" 
 
 Frank saw an arm uplifted, saw something descending, 
 and dodged. In this way, he partly avoided the blow, but
 
 A Temperance Drink. 113 
 
 a sandbag struck him with sufficient force to knock him 
 down. 
 
 In a dazed manner, he sat up, some seconds later, and 
 found a policeman bending over him. 
 
 "What's ther matter here?" demanded the officer, 
 roughly. "Are yer drunk? This ain't no lodgin' house, 
 young feller." 
 
 "I am not drunk," declared Frank, "for I do not drink. 
 But I was attacked here a few moments ago by three men. 
 They hit me on the head with something that dropped me 
 like a log." 
 
 "Sandbagged yer," said the officer, carelessly. "You'd 
 oughter been home with yer folks, 'stead of ramblin' round 
 the streets nights. Where d'ye live?" 
 
 "I am stopping at the Palmer House." 
 
 "Then, ye don't live in the city ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "All ther more reason why yer'd better keep in nights. 
 Can yer git up ?" 
 
 "I rather think so." 
 
 Frank got upon his feet without trouble, and the po- 
 liceman offered to accompany him a short distance toward 
 the Palmer House. 
 
 "If yer walk along sharp, and don't loaf, you'll be likely 
 to git there all right," said the officer. "You'll most likely 
 find, when you git there, that you hain't got any change 
 left in yer pockets ; and mebbe this will learn yer not to be 
 loafin' round the streets nights." 
 
 Half an hour later, Frank found himself in the hotel 
 again. He was surprised to find that Hans and the pro- 
 fessor had not returned. Securing an evening paper, he 
 awaited their return, beginning to feel somewhat anxious 
 concerning them. 
 
 Frank found he had not been robbed by his assailants, 
 but his head had been thumped in a way that made it im- 
 possible for him to read much, as it was throbbing with a 
 dull pain. 
 
 It was nearly eleven o'clock when Frank was surprised 
 to hear some one singing outside the door, and he was 
 still more surprised to recognize the voice of Professor 
 Scotch, who was dismally chanting, "We Won't Go Home 
 Till Morning."
 
 114 A Temperance Drink. 
 
 A key rattled in the lock, the door opened, and the little 
 professor rolled into the room, followed by Hans Dunner- 
 wust, who was saying: 
 
 "Uf you don'd shud oop, you peen fired der hotel oudt 
 righd avay, queek. Vot vos der madder mit you, ain'd id ? 
 I nefer seen der peat uf dot your porn days in !" 
 
 The professor's silk hat was canted over his eyes at a 
 rakish angle, causing Frank to gasp with amazement, for 
 he had never beheld Scotch in such a condition before. 
 
 "Here! Here!" he cried, aghast. "What's the mat- 
 ter with you, professor ? Have you been toying with the 
 wine-cup ?" 
 
 "Hullo, Frank !" cried the professor, with a military sa- 
 lute. "Fines ossifer in the cadet corps at Fardale. Mili- 
 tary ash a vet-ransh. Halt! By twosh right, forward, 
 marsh ! Letter go, Galligher ! Hoopee !" 
 
 "For goodness' sake, close the door, Hans !" palpitated 
 Frank, in dismay. "I wonder how you succeeded in get- 
 ting through the building and reaching these rooms with- 
 out being stopped. Keep still, professor! We'll be in- 
 vited to move to-night, if you keep this up." 
 
 "Whash that?" owlishly gurgled Scotch, bracing up in 
 the middle of the floor, with his feet very wide apart. 
 "Who'll 'vite ush to move? Whassher massher, any- 
 how?" 
 
 "You've been drinking, professor! I am ashamed of 
 you !" 
 
 "Drinking! Young man, you have 'shulted me! I 
 never drink. I'm strictly temp'rate strictly sho. Guesh 
 man hash a right to stop at a drug store an' have a drink 
 of shody ! Shody-wassher never hurt anybody." 
 
 Frank turned to Hans. 
 
 "What is the meaning of this ?" he asked. "How does 
 it happen that the professor is in this condition ?" 
 
 "Veil," said Hans, with a grin, "uf you vasn't mis- 
 daken, id vas dot soty-vater." 
 
 "Soda-water !" cried Frank. "What are you trying to 
 tell me ? Nobody every got drunk on soda-water !" 
 
 "Der brofessor don'd took netting else." 
 
 "Tha's ri'," rumbled the little man with the big voice. 
 "Jesbt took sody-wassher. Took sody-wassher cold, an'
 
 A Temperance Drink. 115 
 
 sody-wassher hot, an' then took it mixed. Besht sody- 
 wassher ever tasted. Hoopee !" 
 
 Frank was more puzzled than before. 
 
 ''What kind of soda-water did you drink?" he asked, 
 bewildered. 
 
 "Temp'ransh sody-wassher. Told man I neversh 
 drinked anyshing by temp'ransh sody-wassher. Man 
 winked I winked. Then he drew sody-wassher. Besht 
 sody-wassher ever tasted. Took 'nuzzer cold one. Didn't 
 sheem to shatisfy me, sho I took a hot one. Shomehow, 
 cold ones sheemed 'bout ash hot ash the hot onesh. Besht 
 sody-wassher ever tashted." 
 
 Frank collapsed on a chair, and burst into laughter. 
 
 "Oh, professor !" he cried ; "that wink was what did the 
 job! When you called for temperance soda-water and 
 winked, you fixed everything nicely." 
 
 "Whash you mean ?" asked Scotch, blankly. 
 
 "I'll tell you what that wink meant. It meant whiskey, 
 and you got it in the soda-water. You took it cold, and 
 then you took it hot, and you've got a load, professor." 
 
 "Shay," said the professor, soberly, trying to brace up, 
 " 'f that man gave me whishky in sody-wassher, I'll have 
 'm 'reshted for shellin' liquor under falsh pretenshesh." 
 
 "The best thing you can do now is to get into bed with- 
 out delay, and sleep off this load," said Frank. 
 
 "Don't wanter to bed ; wanter talk. Feel like stringing 
 shongs. Lesh all shing a shong." 
 
 It was with no little difficulty that Frank persuaded the 
 I professor to be undressed and put into bed, and, after the 
 j man was in bed, even, he persisted in trying to sing. 
 Finally, declaring the Palmer House was "besht hotel 
 eversh shaw beds rocked fellersh to shleep," the profes- 
 sor closed his eyes and began to snore. 
 
 "There," breathed Frank, with relief, "he's settled fo, 
 to-night, but there'll be a difference in the morning."
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE ITALIAN COUNT. 
 
 In the morning, Professor Scotch felt decidedly indis 
 posed. When Frank aroused him, he stared blankly at 
 the boy, and then asked : 
 
 "When did you arrive?" 
 
 "Late yesterday afternoon. I was here when you came 
 in last evening, professor. Don't you remember?" 
 
 "It seems that I remember something about it, but I've 
 got a terrible headache ! What is the matter with me ?" 
 
 "You've been monkeying with that decoction 'which 
 stingeth like a serpent and biteth like an adder. You 
 came in drunk last night, professor." 
 
 Scotch tried to sit up quickly in bed, but fell back with a 
 groan. 
 
 "Frank! Frank!" he cried. "What do you mean? I 
 am not a drinking man you know I am not ! Sometimes 
 I take soda-water; I remember that I took some last 
 night." 
 
 "And you winked at the man who mixed it ?" 
 
 "I don't remember; possibly I did." 
 
 "That wink gave you the beautiful head you have this 
 morning." 
 
 "Why, how " 
 
 "Simplest thing in the world. You were taken for the 
 kind of temperance crank who drinks his whiskey in 
 soda-water. You took several drinks, and you came in 
 very much intoxicated. It's a miracle that you reached 
 these rooms, for you were singing 'We Won't Go Home 
 Till Morning,' and it's a wonder you were not arrested. 
 If it hadn't been for Hans, you could not have reached 
 these rooms. He made you keep still till you arrived on 
 this floor." 
 
 The professor groaned again. 
 
 "I am horrified and shocked," he said, dolefully. "If I 
 can find that druggist again, I shall talk to him severely."
 
 The Italian Count 117 
 
 "Look out that you do not wink at him when you 
 speak," laughed Frank. 
 
 "Little danger of that. Oh, my head ! Bring me a wet 
 towel, Frank, and leave me to my misery." 
 
 The Dutch boy was listening, a broad grin on his fat, 
 good-natured face. 
 
 "You don'd feel so goot as you did, brofessor," he 
 chirped. "You said last nighd you vas goin' to trink dot 
 soty-vater efery tay you stayed in Chigawgo. Maype you 
 changed your mindt righd avay alretty yet." 
 
 "Get out !" roared the professor, glaring at Hans. "I 
 believe you were at the bottom of this, you rascal ! If I 
 find out you were well, something will drop with a dull 
 thud." 
 
 A wet towel was brought and tied about the professor's 
 head, and he was left alone, while Frank and Hans de- 
 scended for breakfast. 
 
 To Frank's surprise, a dark-skinned, foreign-looking 
 man, with mustache and imperial waxed to needle points, 
 was placed at the table with them. He seemed to have 
 entered the dining-room close behind them, and Frank 
 fancied he had asked the waiter to seat him at that par- 
 ticular table. He was well-dressed, and had an air of cool 
 self-possession. 
 
 "Excusa me, young gentlemen," he said, with a decid- 
 edly foreign accent. "I have not-ta da vera gr-r-reat 
 honah of know-a you, bot I like-a your appearanze. At 
 da vera last hotel where I be, I have-a da mis fort' to sit-ta 
 at da tab' with-a one peeg. He stuffa da food in his mout' 
 with hees knife-a with his fork-a almost with hees feen- 
 gar-r-rs ! Bar-r-r-rr ! Dat-a make-a me-a seek ! I say 
 I take-a da care I don' sect at da tab' wid dat kine peopl' 
 no more. I sect at da tab' wid genteelmen. Excusa me-a 
 if I speak-a diffren' frome da Americ' peopl'. I am Ital- 
 a-ean. Excuse-a me-a my card-a." 
 
 With a profound bow, the dark-faced stranger placed 
 an engraved card before the boys, and they read : 
 
 "COUNT ANTONIO POLICASTRO, 
 
 "Milan." 
 
 Frank felt for his card case, but, to his dismay, found 
 he did not have it with him.
 
 n8 The Italian Count. 
 
 "I haven't a card at hand, count," he said, "but I will 
 introduce my friend and myself. Mr. Hans Dunnerwust, 
 Count Policastro. My own name is Frank Merriwell." 
 
 The count bowed gracefully. 
 
 "Young genteelmen, I salute-a you," he smiled, showing 
 his teeth beneath his dark mustache. "If you no objec', I 
 take-a da pleasure to sect at dees tab' while I stay da 
 hotel at." 
 
 "I do not think we object," said Frank. "We are not 
 cads." 
 
 "Dot vos righd, Count Bolecatero," nodded Hans, who 
 was determined to say something agreeable. "Shust you 
 sed righd down dis table at all der vile und make yourseluf 
 righd at home. I don'd peen efery day we eat hash a 
 count mit, you pet me your poots." 
 
 The count smiled again, lifting his eyebrows somewhat, 
 and staring pleasantly at the Dutch boy. 
 
 "I hear dat great many of da counts in this-a countaree 
 be no-a count," he observed. 
 
 Frank was amused by this pleasantry, as Hans plainly 
 saw, but the Dutch boy was greatly puzzled to see the 
 point. 
 
 "Noah Count," muttered Hans. "Veil, I don'd know 
 dot feller, but, if dis peen der blace to laugh at, you don'd 
 get me left any alretty yet." 
 
 Then he broke into a roar of laughter that startled 
 everybody in the dining-room, and came near giving 
 Frank a fit. Seeing he had make a mistake, the Dutch 
 lad broke off suddenly in a manner quite surprising, and 
 drank a whole glass of water at a single swallow. 
 
 "Great Scott !" gasped Frank. "You'll be taken for a 
 lunatic, Hans ; an' we'll both be fired, if you do that trick 
 again." 
 
 "Meester Dunnerbust seem-a to be vera orig' vera 
 much-a da same like-a himself," observed the count. 
 
 During the remaining time at breakfast Hans did not 
 venture to speak a word or utter a sound. 
 
 Frank conversed pleasantly with the count, and found 
 much of interest in the dark-faced Italian. 
 
 When they left the dining-room, and were moving to- 
 ward the elevator, Frank said to Hans, speaking in a low 
 tone:
 
 The Italian Count. 119 
 
 "That count is a palpable fraud." 
 
 "Vot vos dot?" gasped the Dutch boy, astonished. 
 "You mean to say dot " 
 
 "That the fellow is no count, and I doubt if he ever 
 saw Italy. I happen to be pretty well posted on Italy, and 
 I led the conversation into a channel that tended to bring 
 out what he knew, with the result that he got badly 
 twisted. If he came from Italy, he knows very little about 
 his own country, and Milan, from which place he claims 
 to hail." 
 
 Hans was dazed. 
 
 "You don'd mean to say he peen a fraud?" asked the 
 Dutch lad. 
 
 "That is what I suspect," said Frank. 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas ! Und we don'd sed at der table a 
 real count mit ?" 
 
 "I think not." 
 
 "Veil, uf I don'd go pack und knock der sduffin' from 
 him oudt you kick me !" 
 
 Hans would have started, but Frank caught him by the 
 shoulder, and prevented it. 
 
 "You seem determined to do something that will get us 
 fired from the hotel. I don't know Count Policastro is a 
 fraud ; I simply suspect it. American girls love titles, and 
 the man may be traveling on his title, which he has 
 adopted for that purpose. Some way, his face seems fa- 
 miliar to me, although I cannot place him." 
 
 On reaching their rooms, the professor was found still 
 in bed, and, after much persuasion, Frank succeeded in 
 inducing him to take some coffee, which was brought by 
 a boy. 
 
 But the coffee did not brace the unfortunate man, who 
 declared over and over that he was "awfully sick." 
 
 At length, as the professor did not seem to get any bet- 
 ter, Frank decided to go out and look around. He left 
 Hans to look after Scotch. 
 
 Frank decided to visit the stock yards without delay. 
 This he did, taking a State street cable car to Thirty-ninth 
 street, from which point he proceeded by a stock-yards 
 car. 
 
 Frank had learned to keep his eyes open constantly, and 
 it was not long before he discovered that Count Antonio
 
 I2O The Italian Count. 
 
 Policastro was going right along with him, although the 
 count seemed to shun the boy's observation, as far as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 "Now, there is something in this," decided Frank "far 
 more than appears on the surface. This bogus count is 
 shadowing me. Why ? That's the question."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A CUNNING FOLLOWER. 
 
 At first, Frank was uneasy, for he did not fancy being 
 dogged about like a criminal. 
 
 But he resolved to lead the count a merry dance. 
 
 "If he follows me, he'll have to keep moving," muttered 
 the boy. 
 
 At the stock yards he found himself in the midst of 
 nearly a hundred and fifty acres of pens, where were con- 
 fined vast numbers of Texan and Western cattle, hogs 
 from the entire Mississippi Valley, sheep from Colorado, 
 Kansas, New Mexico, and elsewhere, unbroken horses 
 from Kentucky and Western horse ranches, all, with the 
 exception of the horses, having been brought there for 
 slaughter. 
 
 Around and about amid the yards Frank hurried, and 
 the Italian count kept on his track. 
 
 Then the boy visited the slaughter and packing houses, 
 
 the sights and scenes of which proved sickening for him, 
 
 although he was astounded and bewildered by the rapidity 
 
 with which a living hog or steer was converted into 
 
 . dressed pork or beef. 
 
 Amid the slaughterhouses Frank fancied he had suc- 
 ceeded in dodging Count Policastro. 
 
 He breathed easier, but he hastened to leave the slaugh- 
 ter pens, with their nauseating sights and smells. 
 
 Frank had desired to see the stock yards and slaughter- 
 houses, for these were of the many sights which Chicago 
 boasts, but, having seen them once, it would have been a 
 difficult thing to induce him to visit them again. 
 
 On getting away from the locality, he felt as if he might 
 turn vegetarian for a time. 
 
 Three things about Chicago had impressed themselves 
 on Frank Merriwell, and he fancied he would not forget 
 them very soon. They were the lofty buildings, the Chi-
 
 122 A Cunning Follower. 
 
 cago River, with its swinging bridges and viaducts, and 
 the stock yards and slaughterhouses. 
 
 Having left the stock yards, Frank fell to thinking of 
 his singular adventures of the previous day. Somehow, 
 it seemed that he had dreamed those things, but there 
 were two swelled places on his head, each very tender to 
 the touch, and those stood as evidence that he had not 
 dreamed. 
 
 But what had it all meant ? The mystery remained un- 
 solved, and thoughts of it made Frank fretful and rest- 
 less. 
 
 He wondered what had become of the pretty girl whose 
 acquaintance he had so strangely made. 
 
 Somehow, remembering how she had been seized and 
 dragged away by the man with the wooden leg, he fancied 
 she might be in trouble and distress. 
 
 Why had that man followed and made an attack on the 
 life of the boy who had been rescued from the burning 
 store of the old Jew ? 
 
 Frank was satisfied that the man was a desperate ruf- 
 fian and criminal. 
 
 What relation to him was the girl ? 
 
 Plainly, there was some bond of connection between the 
 girl and the fresh youth who called himself De Lancey 
 Duncan. 
 
 And the mystery of the alligator grips added to the con- 
 fusion. 
 
 The girl had declared that not a dollar of the gripful of 
 money Frank had seen had been stolen. 
 
 Then, why was De Lancey Duncan pursued by an of- 
 ficer, who sought his arrest, but had made a mistake and 
 tried to arrest Frank himself ? 
 
 The girl had said of herself that she was bad and 
 wicked, but Frank could not believe that she was so from 
 choice. 
 
 Thinking these things over, Frank concluded that the 
 man with the wooden leg was an old rascal, and the boy 
 and girl were his tools, willingly or otherwise. 
 
 He longed to see the girl again, to talk with her once 
 more. This desire grew stronger and stronger upon him. 
 
 But how could he find her ?
 
 A Cunning Follower. 123 
 
 "I'll attempt to find Solomon Moses," decided Frank. 
 "I may be able to find the girl through the old Jew." 
 
 He did not return to the Palmer House, but took a 
 luncheon in a restaurant. 
 
 Then, crossing the river by one of the many swinging 
 bridges, he set out for the quarter in which the store of the 
 old Jew had been located. 
 
 Frank knew that he might be going straight into new 
 perils, but that knowledge did not cause him to hesitate. 
 
 He found a car that took him to a point within a few 
 blocks of the locality for which he was bound. 
 
 A brisk walk through the narrow streets brought him in 
 a few minutes within sight of the burned store. 
 
 The walls of the building were standing, but it had been 
 gutted by fire, although the flames had not been allowed to 
 spread. 
 
 Frank shuddered when he thought how near he came to 
 perishing in that fire. 
 
 In front of the ruins stood two men. They were Jews, 
 and the boy saw, with no little satisfaction, that Moses was 
 one of them. 
 
 "He is looking the ruins over," muttered Frank. "It 
 is possible he will lead me to the people I wish to find." 
 
 Remembering he had quite changed in appearance since 
 he was seen by the old Jew, Frank took a fancy to drift 
 past, and hear what Moses was saying. 
 
 The old Jew was excited. He waved his arms, as he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "Meeshter Einstine, Meeshter Einstine, if der beople 
 don'd stob tellin' dat mein vife, Repecca, set dat vire, I 
 vas a ruint man! I must haf dat insurance, Meeshter 
 Einstine !" 
 
 "Veil, Meeshter Mosesh," said the other Jew, "you vas 
 a man vat knows your own pusiness, but I vind id petter 
 to go indo inzolvenzy than to haf a vire." 
 
 Frank walked on to the end of the block, and then 
 paused, where he could keep an eye on Moses. 
 
 An Italian organ-grinder was coming slowly up the 
 street. He was a wreck of a man, seeming scarcely able 
 to totter along and carry the organ. His clothes were 
 tattered and torn, and he presented a most miserable ap- 
 pearance.
 
 124 A Cunning Follower. 
 
 Frank paid little attention to the organ-grinder till the 
 fellow was close at hand. 
 
 The broken tunes that came from the wheezy old in- 
 strument annoyed the boy. 
 
 "Give-a da poor ol'-a man some-a-thing ?" entreated the 
 Italian. "Poor ol'-a man have-a da monk' two day 'go; 
 now da monk' be dead-a. Give-a da poor ol'-a man some- 
 a-thing." 
 
 Frank thrust his hand into his pocket. 
 
 "Good-a boy !" said the organ-grinder, eagerly. "When 
 poor ol'-a man have-a da monk', den da monk' pic-ca up- 
 pa da cent-a. Now da poor ol'-a man no-a have-a da 
 monk', he no-a find-a man-a cent-a to pic-ca up-pa. You 
 have-a lot-ta mon'. You never-r-r miss-a one dol' ; give-a 
 da poor ol'-a man-a one dol'." 
 
 "Well," said Frank, falling to slang as most fitting for 
 the occasion, "you've got a crust !" 
 
 "Yes-sa, yes-sa," nodded the dago, fishing around in his 
 pockets; "have-a da crust-a. No-a have-a netting els'-a 
 to eat-a." 
 
 Then he produced a crust of bread, on which he began 
 to gnaw. 
 
 Frank was pretty familiar with beggars' tricks, but the 
 readiness with which the old man produced the crust of 
 bread quite staggered the boy. 
 
 "Great Scott!" thought Frank. "That came along as 
 if he was expecting me to say just what I did." 
 
 Aloud, he asked : 
 
 "Why don't you buy something to eat with the money 
 you pick up each day ?" 
 
 "No-a pic-ca up-pa much since da monk' he die," 
 whined the old man, sadly. "Da monk' dance-a on da 
 hand-org', please-a da children, get-ta da pennies da-a 
 way. When da monk' he die, ol'-a Benito hold-a him in 
 his arms-a, cry, cry, cry, all-a sam'-a lik-ka one child. 
 When da monk' die, ol'-a Benito be vera near-a broke at 
 da heart." 
 
 "That's a very slick story," smiled Frank, "and you de- 
 serve something for inventing such a pathetic tale. Now, 
 here is a dollar," taking out a silver dollar in one hand, 
 "and here is a nickel," taking a nickel out in the other. 
 "If I believed you were honest and deserving, I'd give you
 
 A Cunning Follower. 125 
 
 the dollar; as I do not believe you are honest and de- 
 serving, I will give you nothing." 
 
 He returned both the dollar and the nickel to his pock- 
 ets. 
 
 "Hol'-a smok-a !" cried the Italian, nearly falling down 
 in dismay. 
 
 Then he made a few choice remarks in Italian, and 
 moved away. 
 
 Frank watched the old organ-grinder hobble away, and 
 there was a peculiar smile on the boy's face. 
 
 "Go on !" he guttered. "That was a very slick change, 
 and you played your part very well, but you did not fool 
 me, Count Antonio Policastro !"
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 A NOTE OF WARNING, 
 
 Frank had discovered that the seemingly crippled and 
 tottering old organ-grinder was the peculiar Italian count 
 of the Palmer House. 
 
 The discovery had been a startling one, but the boy had 
 not betrayed the fact that he had made such a discovery. 
 
 He had succeeded in concealing his surprise, although 
 it had cost him an effort. 
 
 Frank realized that he had not been able to dodge the 
 "count" at the stock yards, as he fancied he had. 
 
 The fellow was following him with persistent and 
 alarming determination. 
 
 The change from an Italian count to a wretched organ- 
 grinder was remarkable, and very few lads could have de- 
 tected the cheat. 
 
 "He must be one of the old wooden-leg's rascally tools," 
 thought the boy. "He is following me about, and watch- 
 ing for an opportunity to get in his work. Jupiter! I 
 don't like this! It gives me the chills. An Italian is 
 liable to gently insert a knife in the small of a fellow's 
 back just when the fellow is expecting nothing of the 
 sort." 
 
 For a moment he had allowed his mind to wander from 
 the old Jew, whom he had resolved to watch. 
 
 He turned quickly, and looked for Solomon Moses, be- 
 ing barely in time to see the form of the old man disap- 
 pearing into the mouth of a narrow alleyway. 
 
 "Great Scott!" gasped Frank. "I came near losing 
 you !" 
 
 He hurried to the mouth of the alley, and looked for 
 Moses ; but, to his dismay, the Jew was not to be seen. 
 
 "Where has he gone? I believe I have lost him, after 
 all!" 
 
 Down the alley hurried the boy. It was a narrow,
 
 A Note of Warning. 127 
 
 wretched sort of place, and, somehow, Frank felt that he 
 was none too safe in there. 
 
 A man slouched past, staring at the boy from the cor- 
 ners of two evil-looking eyes. Some ragged and dirty 
 children were quarreling over a bit of yellow cigar rit>- 
 bon. A slatternly woman openly carried a pail of beer in 
 at a miserable doorway. 
 
 Frank hurried on, finally coming out upon another * 
 street. Still, he saw nothing of the Jew. 
 
 "The bogus count is responsible for this!" muttered 
 Frank, fiercely. "If I had not given him a few minutes 
 of attention, I shouldn't have lost track of Moses." 
 
 He stopped, and fell to thinking it over. 
 
 "It cannot be that the old Jew hurried through that 
 alley, and then got away on this street before I could reach 
 this spot," decided the boy. "He did not rush into the 
 alley in a hurry. Unless the dago gave him a signal, 
 Moses had no reason to think I was watching him." 
 
 But Frank felt that it was quite possible the Jew had 
 been given a warning sign by the organ-grinder. In that 
 case, without doubt, Moses had lost no time in getting 
 under cover. 
 
 Why he was followed and watched, Frank could not un' 
 derstand, although he fancied he was regarded as a spot- 
 ter in the employ of the police. 
 
 Frank finally decided that Moses had not passed 
 through the alley. That being the case, the Jew must 
 have entered one of the wretched doorways Frank had 
 passed. 
 
 The boy turned back into the alley. He believed the 
 chances were against him, but he determined to make a 
 search for Moses. 
 
 Slowly he moved along, keeping his eyes open. He 
 well knew that his dress and appearance would make him 
 an object of much attention ; but there was no time or 
 chance for him to alter his attire and assume a disguise. 
 
 It did not seem to Frank that Moses, poor though the 
 old man had seemed, was a person to accept lodgings in 
 that wretched quarter, unless forced to do so, or unless 
 he did so through policy. 
 
 Jews are thrifty, and they flock together. The people
 
 128 A Note of Warning. 
 
 of the alley were not Jewish, although there were many 
 Jew stores in that neighborhood. 
 
 Frank began to think that Moses had been warned by 
 the Italian, and had lost no time in hiding himself. 
 
 That being the case, the boy felt that it was the next 
 thing to useless to search for the old rascal. 
 
 Frank was beginning to grow discouraged. 
 
 He paused midway in the alley, and looked up. 
 
 He had been there several seconds, when he saw a hand 
 and arm reach out through a broken pane of glass in a 
 window far up on the wall. The hand was small and 
 white ; the arm was round and shapely. Somehow, there 
 was something dainty and refined about that hand and 
 arm, and Frank Merriwell was astounded by their appear- 
 ance in that wretched quarter. 
 
 Something fluttered downward from those dainty 
 fingers, and then the hand was withdrawn from view. 
 
 For several seconds Frank stood staring up at the 
 broken window. 
 
 Somehow, he felt that he had seen that hand before 
 that he had felt those white fingers within his clasp. 
 
 He looked down at his feet. Something white lay on 
 the ground, and, stooping, he picked it up. 
 
 It was a bit of paper, wrapped about a side-comb, such 
 as might be used by a girl, and tied there with a single 
 strand of dark golden hair. 
 
 Frank's heart gave a great bound. 
 
 "The strange girl had golden hair!" he softly palpi- 
 tated. "This looks like a strand from her head! Is it 
 possible I have found her?" 
 
 He removed the paper. 
 
 Something was written upon it with a lead pencil, and 
 the writing was distinctly feminine and girlish. 
 
 In a moment Frank was reading the words written 
 there : 
 
 "FRANK MERRIWELL : You are in danger here great 
 danger ! Go away do not come back ! My uncle be- 
 lieves you are a police spotter ; he thinks I told you things 
 I should not; he says you are dangerous. You may be 
 killed if you do not go away ! Never mind me. If they
 
 A Note of Warning. 129 
 
 keep me locked here a month, fed on bread and water, I 
 will not " 
 
 The writing ended abruptly, as if the person had heard 
 some one approaching, and had not been able to finish. 
 
 That the one who wrote those words was the girl he 
 had saved from the railroad wreck, Frank had not a 
 doubt.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 BETWEEN TWO FIRES. 
 
 i 
 
 "I have found her !" thought Frank, exultantly. "She 
 is up there a captive !" 
 
 He again read the last words of the unfinished note. 
 
 "If they keep me locked here a month, fed on bread and 
 water, I will not " 
 
 The girl had become rebellious, and she was a pris- 
 oner. 
 
 All the chivalry in Frank's nature was aroused, and he 
 felt ready to battle for her against a score of ruffians. 
 
 "She must have seen me pass when I went through this 
 alley in the first place," thought the boy; "and, thinking 
 it possible I would return, she began to write this note, 
 watching for me the while. She saw me pause beneath 
 the window she heard some on approaching the room, or 
 she feared I would move away she barely had time to 
 drop this to me." 
 
 He thrust the scrap of paper into his pocket. 
 
 "What can I do?" That was the question he asked 
 himself, and it was not easily answered. 
 
 He felt that he must do something ; he was determined 
 to do something. He would not go away and leave the 
 girl to the mercies of the ruffians who held her a captive. 
 
 She had spoken of her uncle, and Frank knew she must 
 mean the man with the wooden leg, as Solomon Moses 
 could not be her uncle. 
 
 And the boy was sure that the man with the wooden leg 
 was a ruffian capable of almost any deed. 
 
 It made his blood boil as he thought of her position in 
 the power of such a villain. 
 
 Frank's first thought was to call on the police for aid. 
 
 But what could he tell the police ? What charge could 
 he make against Solomon Moses and the man with the 
 wooden leg ?
 
 Between Two Fires. 131 
 
 While he was searching for a policeman, the birds might 
 take the alarm and fly away. 
 
 A sudden resolve seized Frank, and, a moment later, 
 he entered the wretched doorway that he knew must lead 
 to the room where the girl was confined. 
 
 Up a dirty flight of stairs he made his way. The stairs 
 were narrow, and they twisted here and there in a strange 
 fashion, so that from various positions which he reached 
 he was able to look down to the bottom of the several 
 flights. 
 
 From the narrow, filthy landings doors led into rooms 
 on every hand. 
 
 That these rooms were occupied, Frank quickly discov- 
 ered, for from all sides came strange sounds the quarrel- 
 ing of women, crying of children, singing of a drunken 
 man, and the scraping squeak of an old violin. 
 
 Some of the doors were standing wide open, but the 
 boy slipped boldly and silently past, and, by a rare chance, 
 did not encounter any one on the stairway. 
 
 At length he reached a door near the top, and he was 
 sure the girl must be confined near at hand. 
 
 He listened at a door that was securely closed. 
 
 The door was a shaky old affair, and Frank distinctly 
 heard voices in the room beyond. More than that, he 
 could understand what was being said. 
 
 It seemed that some kind of a quarrel was going on, and 
 he recognized the voice of the old Jew, who was whining : 
 
 "Meeshter Sullifan, you vill be der ruin uf me ! You 
 vill haf me arresdet der handt uf der law by, Meeshter 
 Sullifan ! I vos a boor oldt man, und I nefer been aple to 
 make much moneysh " 
 
 "Bah !" snarled another voice, which Frank recognized 
 as that of the man with the wooden leg. "You're an old 
 hypocrite, Moses! You have been a crook all your life, 
 but you've been so sly that the police have not been able 
 to nab you. That's all right, but don't try to make me 
 think you are honest. Don't try to make me believe you 
 did not know the kind of people who met in that secret 
 room behind your store. You were paid well, and you 
 kept your mouth shut." 
 
 "Veil, uf I been arresdet, I svare I don'd know vot vas 
 done der pack room in, Meeshter Sullifan, und I tells der
 
 132 Between Two Fires. 
 
 trute. Now I been purned oudt, und I haf to gome here 
 ven you say so, und I haf to keeb you, und I haf to led 
 dose crooks gome here to see you, und der virst ding you 
 know I been arresdet as one uf der gang. I don'd lige 
 dot, Meeshter Sullifan." 
 
 "Like it or not, you'll have to stand it. I have you 
 under my thumb, Moses, and you'll do exactly as I say." 
 
 The listening boy heard the old Jew mutter a dismal 
 groan. 
 
 "Meeshter Sullifan, you haf no symbathy on a boor, 
 oldt man?" 
 
 ''Not a bit, you old scoundrel!" 
 
 "Veil, I peen in a pad scrabe. Id vas der virst dime in 
 my life I ged dis kindt uf a scrabe indo. Uf I gome oudt 
 uf id all righd, I don'd do no more pusiness your kindt uf 
 beoble vid." 
 
 "If we come out all right, and get rid of our stock, I'll 
 pay you so much you'll be glad to keep in with us." 
 
 Frank had hoped to hear something that would solve 
 some of the mysteries which puzzled him, but he was 
 doomed to disappointment. However, since entering the 
 alley, he had discovered what hold the man of the wooden 
 leg had on the strange girl. The man was her uncle 
 possibly her legal guardian. 
 
 What of De Lancey Duncan? How was he related to 
 the girl? 
 
 Barely had Frank asked himself the question when he 
 heard a sound like the sudden flinging open of a door, fol- 
 lowed by the voice of the boy, crying : 
 
 "Come on come out here! Here's a pretty sort of a 
 sister ! See if you'll dare talk to Uncle Bardy as you've 
 been talking to me !" 
 
 "Sister!" muttered the lad outside the door. "She is 
 the fellow's sister!" 
 
 Then he heard the voice of the girl uttering an appeal : 
 
 "Don't, Dell please don't! You are hurting my 
 wrists! You never abused me in this way before! 
 You've always been good to me. What has changed you 
 so?" 
 
 "Your disgusting foolishness," was the answer. "Here 
 Uncle Bardy is working to make us rich, and you are get- 
 ting contrary and dangerous."
 
 Between Two Fires. 133 
 
 "He is working to get us all into prison !" rang out the 
 clear voice of the girl. "My father was an honest man, 
 and he believed Uncle Sullivan an honest man when he 
 left us in uncle's care ! but Bardy Sullivan turned our old 
 home into a workshop for criminals, and he has been try- 
 ing to make us assist him in his unlawful work. I did 
 yield at first, but, now that I see where it will lead us, I 
 am done with it forever !" 
 
 "You little fool !" snarled the man with the wooden leg. 
 "You would ruin us all ! You may have ruined us al- 
 ready by what you told that boy spotter !" 
 
 "That boy was no spotter, and I told him nothing." 
 
 "I know better than that ! You were telling him things 
 you should not when I found you with him while Moses* 
 store burned. You can't make a fool of me !" 
 
 "And you can't make a dupe of me! Shut me up- 
 keep me on bread and water kill me I'll never aid you 
 in your lawless schemes again!" 
 
 The listening boy outside the door felt like uttering a 
 cheer of admiration and delight. 
 
 "There is a brave girl !" he thought. 
 
 Then the voice of the old Jew was heard. 
 
 "My tear Mish Lawrenze," whined the old fellow, "I 
 hobe you don'd ged poor oldt Solomon Moshesh indo no 
 scrabe vid der law poor oldt Solomon Moshesh, vat vas 
 losd his sdore und all uf his elecant sdock by vire ! I vas 
 an oldt man, Mish Lawrenze, und I vould die vid a proken 
 heart uf I vas arresdet, my tear." 
 
 "Oh, I don't want to get anybody into trouble!" half 
 sobbed the girl. "All I want to do is to go away go 
 back home, and live in peace. But I'll never go back 
 there and have the same old work go on ! I'll run away 
 I'll kill myself I'll do anything!" 
 
 "You talk like a little fool, Lucy !" sneered the voice of 
 the boy Frank knew as De Lancey Duncan. 
 
 "And you talk like a young criminal !" the girl flashed 
 back. "You have been ruined by this man we call uncle !" 
 
 "Rot!" 
 
 "It is the truth!" 
 
 "It is useless to talk with you !" 
 
 "Quite useless, sir !" 
 
 "Vait," pleaded the old Jew, who seemed to be terrified
 
 134 Between Two Fires. 
 
 lest the girl betray them all "vait, und led me gall my 
 vife, Repecca. Maype Repecca been aple to talk some 
 senze vid er tear young laty." 
 
 "It's no use!" growled the owner of the wooden leg. 
 "Nobody can talk sense to her ! We'll have to keep her 
 locked up while we are disposing of our goods." 
 
 "Then what?" 
 
 "That's the question. We'll have to decide about that 
 later. Take her back." 
 
 "If you would give me some comforts, I could endure it 
 better ; but that room is a wretched place. It doesn't seem 
 that I can stay there very long." 
 
 "You'll have to !" snarled the uncle. "You have chosen 
 that place instead of comfort and ease. You have only 
 yourself to blame. Take her back, Dell." 
 
 "Come on, Lucy." 
 
 At this moment something caused Frank to leave the 
 door and peek downstairs. Halfway up the shaking, 
 winding flights came a creeping figure, making no noise, 
 stealing up the stairs, bit by bit, like an assassin crawling 
 on an unsuspecting victim. 
 
 It was the bogus organ-grinder, Count Antonio Poli- 
 castro ! 
 
 "He tracked me here!" thought Frank. "I have been 
 followed in here by that wretch, whom I had forgotten. 
 It looks as if I am in a bad scrape, for I'm caught between 
 two fires !"
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 CLEARING UP. 
 
 Of a sudden, loud voices sounded within the room close 
 at hand, and Frank listened again. 
 
 "Dell brother!" cried the girl, appealing, "will you 
 turn against your own sister because this man this un- 
 natural uncle bids you do so ?" 
 
 "Come along, Lucy ; don't make a fool of yourself !" 
 
 "I believe that man has hypnotized you ! I do not be- 
 lieve it is natural for you to be a criminal ! Stop ! Take 
 your hands off me ! I won't go ! Help ! Is there no one 
 to help me now ?" 
 
 Bang crash ! 
 
 Frank flung himself against the door, and it went down 
 before him. 
 
 "Yes !" he cried, in a ringing tone ; "there is some one to 
 help you ! I am here !" 
 
 Into the room he sprang, and two bounds enabled him 
 to reach the boy who stood clutching the girl's wrist. 
 
 "Let up !" 
 
 Frank tore them apart, sent the boy reeling, placed the 
 girl behind him, and faced the old Jew and Bardy Sulli- 
 van. 
 
 For a moment both men were dazed and astounded by 
 this sudden and unexpected appearance and onset of the 
 daring boy. 
 
 Sullivan quickly recovered, and roared : 
 
 "It's the spotter! Don't let him escape! We are 
 ruined if he gets away !" 
 
 A knife glittered in the man's hand, and the girl uttered 
 a shriek of terror, clutching at Frank. 
 
 "What made you come here ? You will be killed !" 
 
 He shook her off. 
 
 "Don't touch me leave me free to meet them !" 
 
 "Are you armed ?" 
 
 "No."
 
 136 Clearing Up. 
 
 "Then, you have no chance you are lost !" 
 
 "Yes," snarled the man with the wooden leg, "this will 
 wind up your career !" 
 
 He started for Frank, but the old Jew caught him, and 
 held him back, crying : 
 
 "No you don'd, Meeshter Sullivan! Der scrabe vas 
 pad enough now, bud you don'd mage id no vorse by 
 killin' somepody !" 
 
 "Let go!" 
 
 "Veil, I guess nod !" 
 
 "Then, I'll " 
 
 "You will keep still, or 111 blow the whole roof of your 
 head off, Cagey Joe !" 
 
 A man stood in the doorway, and he held a revolver, 
 which was leveled straight at the head of Bardy Sullivan. 
 
 The man with the revolver was the Italian the organ- 
 grinder Count Antonio Policastro! 
 
 He lifted his other hand, and placed a silver whistle to 
 his lips, blowing a sharp, rallying call, which was almost 
 instantly answered from the alley. 
 
 "Trapped!" snarled the man with the wooden leg. 
 "The police are coming! You have caught me at last, 
 NobHarlow!" 
 
 "You are right," returned the man in the doorway. 
 "This place is guarded by policemen on every side, and 
 several officers are coming up the stairs at this minute. 
 There is absolutely no chance for you to escape." 
 
 The knife disappeared from Bardy Sullivan's hand, and 
 he laughed, mockingly : 
 
 "All right, my slick detective," he said. "Now, you 
 have caught me, let's see you prove anything against me. 
 It is possible you have overshot the mark." 
 
 The policemen appeared behind the man in the door- 
 way, and all entered the room. 
 
 "Secure that man with the wooden leg, nab the old Jew, 
 and arrest the two boys and the girl," directed the person 
 Frank had believed an Italian. "Do not let anybody es- 
 cape." 
 
 The order was obeyed. 
 
 "Why do you arrest this boy ?" demanded the girl, indi- 
 cating Frank. "He has done nothing." 
 
 "Hasn't, eh ? That remains for him to prove. It was
 
 Clearing Up. 137 
 
 by following him that I found you. I have shadowed him 
 since I was lucky enough to run upon him after getting 
 into the city, although he was suspicious and tried to 
 dodge me. I did not have time to change my disguise en- 
 tirely, so I changed from a count to an organ-grinder ; but 
 he seemed to see through the trick." 
 
 "I did," smiled Frank ; "but I swear I did not dream 
 you were a detective. I thought you belonged to this 
 gang, and " 
 
 "That sounds first-rate, but I do not believe it will go. 
 Why did you go to such extremes to avoid arrest before 
 reaching the city ? In some way you tricked me, although 
 I followed you hot, and telegraphed ahead for your de- 
 tention." 
 
 "You you are the officer who tried to arrest me after 
 we passed through Valparaiso?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Now I understand why it was that it seemed I had 
 seen 'Count Antonio Policastro' before. You are great at 
 disguising yourself. If I understood this man right, he 
 called you Nob Harlow. I have heard of Nob Harlow, 
 the detective." 
 
 "I shouldn't be surprised if you have." 
 
 At this moment two policemen, who had been searching, 
 dragged Solomon Moses' wife, Rebecca, into the room. 
 Each officer also brought an alligator-skin grip. 
 
 "We have found them !" they cried. 
 
 Harlow regarded the two grips with surprise. 
 
 "There are two," he said. 
 
 "One is mine," Frank promptly claimed. 
 
 "Open them," directed Harlow. 
 
 One was opened, and it contained such articles as a 
 young man would be likely to carry in a handbag if he 
 were traveling. 
 
 "That is mine," asserted Frank Merriwell. 
 
 "Open the other," ordered he detective. 
 
 It was opened, and it proved to be quite empty! 
 
 A sneering laugh came from the lips of Bardy Sulliv&n, 
 and he said: 
 
 "You may have some trouble in obtaining proofs, Mr. 
 Harlow."
 
 138 Clearing Up. 
 
 "I think not," said the detective, coolly. "Officers, re- 
 move that man's wooden leg." 
 
 Sullivan remonstrated and resisted, but the policemen 
 held him fast and unstrapped the leg, which was handed 
 to Harlow, The detective quickly removed a large cork 
 from the end of the leg which joined the man's am- 
 putated limb, and then it was seen that the wooden leg 
 was hollow and stuffed with bank notes. 
 
 "I have wondered why your wooden leg was so large, 
 Cagey Joe," said the detective, speaking to Bardy Sulli- 
 van; "but I tumbled to the secret at last. I have never 
 till the present moment been able to find a dollar of the 
 queer upon you, although I have caused your arrest 
 four times, and I knew you were shoving the stuff. This 
 leg has been a fine hiding place." 
 
 "The queer?" cried Frank. "Do you mean to say that 
 money is " 
 
 "Counterfeit, every scrap of it," asserted Nob Har- 
 !ow. 
 
 It was not difficult for Frank to prove he was in 
 no way connected with the gang of counterfeiters, of 
 which Bardy Sullivan, or "Cagey Joe," was the leader. 
 He was released from custody. 
 
 The right name of "De Lancey Duncan" was Delmont 
 Lawrence, and Lucy was his sister. At the death of their 
 father, Sullivan, the brother of their mother, who was 
 also dead, had been appointed their guardian. Sullivan 
 was a crook, although at that time he was almost univer- 
 sally believed to be an honest man. 
 
 Almost immediately, Sullivan began the manufacture 
 of counterfeit money at the home of the boy and girl 
 over whom he was guardian. In this he was aided by 
 Blume Fales, who did the engraving. They had suc- 
 ceeded in fooling the secret service officers, who had twice 
 searched the place for bogus money or plates, but had 
 found nothing. 
 
 At length, Fales was arrested on an old charge, and 
 Sullivan found he must go it alone. He forced the boy 
 and girl to aid him, although Lucy did so under re- 
 monstrance. 
 
 Sullivan did not dare bring the money to the distribut- 
 ing point in Chicago, which was the old Jew's store,
 
 Clearing Up. 139 
 
 so he had the boy and girl bring it in, having arranged 
 to meet them in the city. 
 
 In some way, he found that the boy was to be arrested 
 before Chicago was reached, and he hastened to meet 
 him and give the warning. Thus it came about that, 
 through their decided resemblance to each other, and 
 through the fact that Lawrence had swapped grips, Frank 
 was caught by Harlow. 
 
 Then came the wreck. Frank saved the girl. She 
 found the grip that contained the "queer money," and 
 she succeeded in bringing it into Chicago. By chance, 
 the detective found Frank at the Palmer House, and 
 the rest is known to the reader. 
 
 Sullivan was sent to Joliet for a long period. Solomon 
 Moses received a lighter sentence, as also did Rebecca, 
 his wife. 
 
 Dell Lawrence was consigned to a house of correc- 
 tion, while Lucy found a home in an institution for the 
 shelter and protection of homeless girls. 
 
 She wrote a long letter to Frank, which he received 
 before he left Chicago. What she said in that letter re- 
 mains a secret, for Frank destroyed it, and told no one 
 what its contents were. 
 
 "And, now, ho! for Colorado and the West," said 
 Frank, some days later. "I've had enough of Chicago for 
 the present." 
 
 "So vos I," said Hans. 
 
 "Yes, let us move on by all means," came from the 
 professor, "and I trust we shall leave all our enemies 
 behind."
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 "MR. HARD PILL/' 
 
 Shortly after crossing the line which divides the States 
 of Kansas and Colorado, the engine of the Overland 
 Flyer shrieked a wild warning of "down brakes." 
 
 The passengers were immediately thrown into a state 
 of confusion and excitement, as several attempts at train 
 wrecking, one of which was successful, had been made in 
 Colorado within the past few months. 
 
 The brakes were applied with a sudden violence, 
 which checked the forward movement of the train so 
 abruptly that many of the passengers were thrown from 
 their seats. 
 
 "Shiminy Gristmas !" came from Hans, who had fallen 
 from one of the comfortable parlor car seats, on which 
 he had been taking a quiet nap. "Vot vos der madder 
 mit Hannah, ain'd id ?" 
 
 "Boys, boys!" roared Professor Scotch; "we've jumped 
 the track! Hold fast before everything goes all to 
 smash !" 
 
 "Get up, Hans; keep cool, professor," advised Frank, 
 who had remained on his chair for all of the jarring 
 shocks. "I reckon we've struck a snag of some kind, but 
 it is useless to get excited about it." 
 
 "Oxcited !" squawked the Dutch lad, getting upon his 
 feet and pitching headlong into the lap of the professor, 
 who was nearly crushed. "I don'd peen oxcited, vos I, 
 brofessor? Vot's der madder mit you?" he asked, as the 
 unfortunate man struggled to cast him off. "You peen 
 oxcited myseluf, ain'd id?' 
 
 "Help!" rumbled the professor, in a smothered tone, 
 "Get up ! You're sitting on my stomach." 
 
 "Veil, you peen kickin' at efery hodel sense we left 
 der East because you don'd ged someding to set veil your 
 sdomach on, und now you kick ven you ged someding 
 to do dot. You vos the hardest man to suit vot I nefer 
 seen."
 
 "Mr. Hard Pill." 141 
 
 "Get up, Hans," said Frank : "Have you got a grudge 
 against the professor so that you are trying to kill him 
 and say it was done in a railroad accident ?" 
 
 "Oh, I don'd vant to kill him," answered Hans Dun- 
 nerwust ; "but I dinks maype I holdt him sdill so he don'd 
 excited get. He mighd jump oudt der vindow." 
 
 In a few minutes the train came to a stop. Windows 
 were thrown open, and excited passengers thrust their 
 heads out to ask what had happened, while trainmen and 
 other passengers hastened to get off and run forward. 
 
 "Come on, Hans," said Frank, "give the professor a 
 rest, while we get out and stretch our legs." 
 
 "Yaw," grinned the Dutch lad, "we will done dot,Vran- 
 kie. Goot-py, brofessor. Shust keep cool und led your 
 hair curl dot paid spot on your headt mit. Maype you 
 seen us pack apoudt den minutes in. Dra-la-loo !" 
 
 Then, airily waving his hand, Hans followed Frank 
 from the car, leaving Professor Horace Orman Tyler 
 Scotch gasping for breath on the chair. 
 
 "What's happened?" asked Frank, springing from the 
 car steps to the ground. "Why did we stop?" 
 
 "Don't know," puffed a fat man, who was hurrying 
 forward. 
 
 "Obstruction on the track, I reckon," said another man, 
 who was following the fat man. 
 
 "Led's go vorwart und see dot instruction, Vrankie," 
 urged Hans. 
 
 "Come on." 
 
 Away they went, the Dutch lad panting at the heels of 
 his companion, who ran easily, as if without effort. 
 
 A short distance in front of the powerful engine an ex- 
 cited knot of men were gathered on the track. In the 
 centre was a wretched wreck of humanity a tramp in 
 rags and tatters. To Frank he seemed a most miserable 
 specimen of humanity. He was tall and thin, so thin that 
 he looked as if he had not eaten a square meal for a year ; 
 his cheeks were sunken, and his face was covered with a 
 stubbed red beard of a week's growth; his nose had a 
 purple tinge, and he seemed half-frozen, for it was late in 
 the fall, and the weather was not mild, even on the open 
 plains. 
 
 This man was speaking.
 
 142 "Mr. Hard Pill." 
 
 "Yes, gents," he was saying, "I found the loose rail at 
 this particular curve. If I hadn't diskivered it, this train 
 would be in the creek down there now, and some of the 
 passengers would be in eternity. This is the first time in 
 a long, weary, and most disappointing life that I have ever 
 found an opportunity to distinguish myself. I grasped it 
 as a drowning man grasps a straw ; I clung to it as an 
 Ordway plaster clings to a poor man's back. I heard 
 the train approaching. I rushed to stop it. You know 
 the rest." 
 
 The conductor confronted the tramp. 
 
 "How did you happen to be here, sir?" he demanded, 
 sternly. 
 
 "I was strolling along the track for my health," an- 
 swered the vagrant, with a queer wink, which wrinkled 
 the entire side of his face and moved his scalp. "Walk- 
 ing, sir, is a most healthful exercise, and I indulge in it 
 each day if I can't find a place to ride." 
 
 "You're a tramp !" 
 
 "No, sir ! No, sir ! I scorn the insinuation, sir ! I am 
 a gent of leisure." 
 
 "Which way were you walking ?" 
 
 "Toward Denver." 
 
 "Denver is a long distance from here. Where did you 
 come from?" 
 
 "Well, the last place of importance in which I stopped 
 was Kansas City. I came from Chicago to Kansas City 
 in a special car that is, a car specially for the transporta- 
 tion of grain. I started from Kansas City for Denver in 
 another special car, but there seemed to be some mis- 
 understanding, and I was dropped by the wayside. I am 
 thinking of suing the railroad for a hundred thousand dol- 
 lars. That may be another opportunity for me. I have 
 never struck an opportunity to make a fortune before this. 
 In fact, I am known far and wide as 'the man who never 
 had an opportunity.' " 
 
 "What's your name?" 
 
 "Um, let me see? Wonder if I can remember my orig- 
 inal name ? Ha ! yes, I have it ! I was christened Harden 
 Pillsbury, but, for short, my most intimate friends and 
 companions have come to call me Hard Pill. To be sure,
 
 "Mr. Hard Pill." 
 
 this is a familiar mode of address that I do not counte- 
 nance from strangers." 
 
 "From your appearance, I should say it is most appro- 
 priate. How did you happen to discover this loose rail, 
 Mr. Hard Pill?" 
 
 "Oh, I dunno. I jest noticed the spikes had been 
 pulled that's all." 
 
 "Are you aware there have been several attempts at 
 train-wrecking in this part of the State lately ?" 
 
 "Nope." 
 
 "Haven't heard anything about it ?" 
 
 "Nope." 
 
 "Papers have been full of it." 
 
 "Never read papers ; too much work.*' 
 
 "You appear very innocent." 
 
 "I be." 
 
 "Look here, my beauty," came sharply from the lips ot 
 the conductor, "do you know what I think ?" 
 
 "I'm no mind reader." 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you. I believe you know more than you 
 see fit to tell ; I believe you know something about the re- 
 moval of these spikes." 
 
 "Oh, say! what're ye trying to give us! That's rot! 
 You don't think I'd pull the spikes ?" 
 
 "I do not think any better of you." 
 
 "Why, how'd I do it with my teeth?" 
 
 "You may have hidden the instrument with which you 
 pulled them, Mr. Hard Pill." 
 
 "What would I do it for?" 
 
 "Perhaps to get a ride to Denver perhaps to get the 
 passengers in their gratitude to make a purse for you 
 possibly to wreck the train. Your conscience may have 
 smitten you after you removed the spikes, so you hastened 
 to stop the train. You are a rascal I can see it in your 
 face. It is my opinion you ought to be hanged for at- 
 tempting to wreck this train. 
 
 The conductor was angry, and he wanted to frighten 
 the tramp. Some of the passengers were angry also, and 
 they shouted : 
 
 "Hang him! Lynch him! String him to a telegraph 
 pole !" 
 
 Hard Pill looked frightened.
 
 144 "Mr Hard Pill." 
 
 "Gents, gents ! he called, appealingly ; "I'm a norphan, 
 and I never had but one mother ! Luck has run against 
 me all my life, and I've never found many opportuni- 
 
 "You'll find an opportunity at the end of a rope now !" 
 shouted a fat passenger. 
 
 "Yes," cried an excitable little man, "an opportunity to 
 do a fancy dance on empty air ! Hang the train-wrecker !" 
 
 "That's dead wrong," muttered Frank. "I believe in 
 giving a man a show. This fellow is a tramp, but he 
 may have told the truth about the rail." 
 
 "Yaw," nodded Hans; "he may haf dold der trute, 
 Vrankie, but I'll pet id makes him sick uf he did." 
 
 "If you think we're fools enough to raise a purse for 
 you and make a hero of you, you are very much mis- 
 taken," declared the conductor. "We'll take you to Den- 
 ver, and turn you over to the law." 
 
 "That's right! that's right!" cried several voices. 
 
 "Well," said Hard Pill, "I did think I'd found an op- 
 portunity to become famous, "but it begins to look like an 
 opportunity to be hung. I ain't goin' to help ye put the 
 rope round my neck." 
 
 Then he gave a shout, struck out with both hands, 
 knocked down two men, broke from the crowd, and took 
 to his heels.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE TRAIN WRECKERS. 
 
 "Stop him!" 
 
 Somebody shouted the words, but it was no easy thing 
 to stop the tramp, who seemed thoroughly frightened. 
 
 "Out of the way!" 
 
 Away he went across the open ground. The fat man 
 fumbled furiously in his hip pocket, bringing forth a 
 revolver. 
 
 "I'll stop him!" 
 
 "No, you don't!" 
 
 Frank uttered the latter exclamation, thrusting up the 
 hand that held a revolver which had been drawn and 
 pointed in the direction of the running man. 
 
 The revolver spoke, but the bullet whistled harmlessly 
 over the head of Mr. Hard Pill, who plunged into a small 
 ravine, and quickly disappeared. 
 
 "What do you mean? What do you mean?" splut- 
 tered the fat man, glaring at Frank. 
 
 "I do not mean to stand still and see you make a target 
 of a poor fellow like that." 
 
 "He is a vagabond a ruffian a train-wrecker! He 
 might have sent us all into eternity !" 
 
 "A vagabond he certainly is, but a ruffian and train- 
 wrecker perhaps so, perhaps not. It is possible he told 
 the truth it is possible you would be a dead man at this 
 moment, buried beneath the wreck of this train if that 
 wretched tramp had not happened along and discovered 
 the loose rail. You had no right to shoot at him, and you 
 should be punished for such a reckless and reprehensible 
 act!" 
 
 "What what! You young upstart! Do you dare 
 speak to me like this do you dare?" 
 
 "The boy is right," declared the conductor, promptly. 
 "I was trying to frighten the tramp, but there was no 
 excuse for such a reckless use of firearms. You must be
 
 146 
 
 The Train Wreckers. 
 
 one of those Easterners who have an idea that promiscu- 
 ous shooting is indulged in all over the West. You 
 should be arrested and fined for carrying concealed 
 weapons." 
 
 Some of the passengers joined in with the conductor, 
 and the fat man found himself regarded with universal 
 contempt, at which he hastened to beat a retreat to his 
 car, muttering and growling as he departed. 
 
 Frank was complimented for his prompt action, and 
 he was regarded with no little admiration. 
 
 Directions were given for the re-spiking of the rail, so 
 the train might proceed. 
 
 "Come, Hans," said Frank. "We'll have time to walk 
 out this way a short distance before the train goes on, 
 and we may find Mr. Hard Pill hidden out there some- 
 where." 
 
 "Veil, I don'd peen surbrised at dot, but I pet you your 
 life he don'd found a hole long enough for him to grawl 
 indo alretty yet." 
 
 Hans followed at Frank's heels, like a big dog, and 
 they followed along the bank of the ravine, into which 
 they could look. Pretty soon they came to where it 
 branched, and some scrub bushes hid them from the 
 train. 
 
 "Say, Vrankie," said Hans, "don't we petter gone pack 
 britty queek? Maype dot train vill valk avay mitoudt 
 us."" 
 
 "The engineer will whistle a warning before the train 
 starts, and we'll have plenty of time to get back." 
 
 So they went onward still farther. 
 
 All at once Hans caught Frank by the arm, and pointed 
 down into the ravine, exclaiming: 
 
 "Uf dot don'd peen Meshter Hardt Bill you vos mis- 
 daken !" 
 
 Frank had seen a man quickly disappear from view 
 behind some bowlders. 
 
 "I'd like to have a few words with him, Hans," he 
 said. "jCome on." 
 
 Down into the ravine slid Frank, and the Dutch lad 
 came tumbling after, losing his footing, and landing on 
 his stomach with such violence that his breath was driven 
 in a great grunt from his lips.
 
 The Train Wreckers. 147 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas !" he gurgled. "Uf I don'd look 
 oudt, you vill kill meinself!" 
 
 "Which way did the tramp go?" 
 
 "Dot rock aroundt," answered the Dutch boy, scram- 
 bling to his feet. 
 
 Fearing he might be lost, Hans kept as close to Frank 
 as possible, and both hurried around the rocks, running 
 into the midst of a party of men who were crouching be- 
 hind the bowlders. 
 
 Every man had his face concealed by a mask. They 
 were armed with rifles, revolvers, and knives, and each 
 one held a weapon ready for instant use. 
 
 "Great Scott!" gasped Frank. 
 
 "Dunder und blitzen !" gurgled Hans. 
 
 A dozen rifles were pointed at the heads of the two 
 lads, and one of the men sternly said : 
 
 "Be still, or we'll blow the tops of your heads off! 
 Don't make an outcry ! Up with your hands !" 
 
 "Caught !" palpitated Frank. 
 
 "Fast!" groaned Hans. 
 
 "Up with your hands!" repeated the man, in a low, 
 harsh tone. 
 
 "Up they go," said Merriwell. 
 
 "Uf mein ain'd ub far enough vor you, id voss pecause 
 mein arms ain'd long enough," exclaimed the Dutch boy, 
 his teeth chattering and his eyes rolling. 
 
 "Disarm them," ordered the spokesman of the masks. 
 
 The boys were searched, and a handsome self-acting 
 revolver was removed from one of Frank's pockets. On 
 Hans, concealed in some manner, they discovered an old 
 horse-pistol that was not loaded. 
 
 "Tie them," directed the leader. 
 
 "Hold on," said Frank, quickly. "What have we done 
 to merit such treatment?" 
 
 "Keep still !" muttered one of the men, and the cold 
 muzzle of a rifle touched the boy's cheek. 
 
 Roth lads were quickly and skillfully tied. 
 
 "Gag them !" 
 
 "Dot seddles id!" murmured Hans, who was ghastly 
 pale. "You vos a goner !" 
 
 "Give us a show," protested Frank. "You have no 
 reason to treat us this way, and "
 
 148 
 
 The Train Wreckers. 
 
 Again the cold muzzle of the rifle came against his 
 cheek, giving him a chill and stopping him abruptly. 
 
 The masked men worked swiftly, and the gags were 
 soon applied to the mouths of both boys. 
 
 Sitting on the ground, Frank and Hans stared at each 
 other in helpless dismay. 
 
 "There," muttered the man who had given the orders, 
 "there can be do danger that they will shout and bring 
 the men from the train on us now." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," hoarsely chuckled a gigantic man, 
 who had lost the little finger of his left hand. "If they 
 were sent out to work that little game, there's goin' to be a 
 hitch in the proceedin's." 
 
 "But we must get away from here," said a third. "They 
 may take a fancy to hunt for these chaps, and " 
 
 "Right," broke in the leader. "Our little game was 
 spoiled for to-day, and it is dangerous in this vicinity, 
 so we'd better skip out." 
 
 Frank listened to every word. They had not plugged 
 his ears, and he was determined, if possible, to remem- 
 ber the voices of these men. 
 
 Frank knew they had stumbled right into the midst of 
 a band of train-wreckers the very band that had been 
 operating in Colorado of late. These were the men 
 who had attempted to wreck the train these men had 
 loosened the rail. 
 
 Where was Hard Pill, the tramp ? 
 
 Looking around, Frank could see nothing of the 
 strange individual who had stopped the train, and who 
 had been forced to flee for his life after as it seemed 
 he had averted a catastrophe and saved many lives. 
 
 Still Hans had fancied he saw the tramp dodge around 
 those very rocks. 
 
 If he was with the party, his face was concealed by a 
 mask, and he had exchanged his ragged outer garments 
 for other clothes. 
 
 Frank decided the man was not there. 
 
 What had become of Hard Pill? 
 
 Remembering the ravine branched near at hand, Frank 
 believed the tramp must have gone the other way, thus 
 escaping running straight into the clutches of the train- 
 wreckers.
 
 The Train Wreckers. 149 
 
 The masked men were making preparations to leave. 
 
 " What'll we do with these boys ?" asked one. 
 
 "Leave them here," answered the leader. "We can't 
 bother with them, and they won't be able to holler loud 
 enough to make anybody hear more than a mile away." 
 
 "People from the train may search for 'em." 
 
 "Let 'em search. By the time they're found we'll be 
 where we can mount our horses and defy pursuit. We 
 can't take the kids along, so leave them." 
 
 Frank felt both dismayed and relieved. Somehow he 
 was filled with dismay at the thought of being left thus, 
 bound hand and foot, gagged, helpless; but he was re- 
 lieved to know these desperadoes did not contemplate do- 
 ing them any further injury. 
 
 The eyes of the boys met, and the disgusted look that 
 passed over Hans Dunnerwust's face would have made 
 Frank laugh aloud had the gag permitted it. 
 
 The masked men gathered up their weapons, got upon 
 their feet, and started down the ravine. 
 
 "So long, boys," called the giant, with a farewell wave 
 of his mutilated hand. "Sorry to leave ye this way, 
 but it can't be helped. Business is business, and our bus- 
 iness makes it necessary for us to be somewhat harsh in 
 our measures at times. This is one of the times. Hope 
 the wolves won't get ye. So long. We may meet again." 
 
 "Come on!" sharply ordered the leader of the band. 
 "Don't make a fool of yerself, talking so much, Hank." 
 
 So the last man filed down the ravine and disappeared 
 from view.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 LEFT! 
 
 Frank listened till the sound of their feet died out io 
 che distance. 
 
 Click-plunk, click-plunk, click-plunk!" 
 
 It was the men of the train re-spiking the rail to the 
 sleepers, and Frank knew that meant that the Overland 
 Flyer would soon be rushing on its way again, with the 
 engineer working hard to make up lost time and reach 
 Denver on the schedule. 
 
 "It looks as if we are left," thought Frank. 
 
 He saw that the same thought gradually worked itself 
 through the brain of the Dutch lad. 
 
 What could they do? 
 
 If they were left there, the chances were that they 
 would perish from the cold, if it did not happen that 
 they were devoured by wolves. 
 
 Both boys strained at their bonds till the cords cut into 
 their wrists, but they could not succeed in breaking away. 
 
 The gags kept them from talking or shouting for aid. 
 If the gags were not in their mouths they might succeed 
 in making their voices heard by some one near the train. 
 
 Frank fell to hoping that some of the passengers would 
 stroll in that direction. He hoped the passengers had 
 noted that two boys had wandered away and failed to 
 return. 
 
 Would the train go on without them ? 
 
 Frank feared it might, in case they did not return in 
 time, for the Overland Flyer could not afford to wait 
 while a search was made for two boys who had been fool- 
 ish enough to wander away and get lost. 
 
 Toot ! toot ! toot ! 
 
 A series of shrill shrieks from the engine sent an elec- 
 tric thrill through Frank Merriwell. 
 
 The train was preparing to start, and that was a warn- 
 ing for all to get aboard.
 
 Left! 151 
 
 A dismal groan came from behind the gag that had 
 been forced between Hans Dunnerwust's teeth, telling 
 that the Dutch boy fully understood the meaning of those 
 whistles. 
 
 Hans' eyes were filled with a questioning light, and the 
 expression on his face might have been laughable under 
 other circumstances. Just then Frank did not find any- 
 thing laughable about it. 
 
 "The professor," thought Frank. "Will he allow them 
 to go on ? will he go on himself ?" 
 
 He knew the professor would be unable to tell if they 
 were on the train unless he made a thorough search, 
 and there would be no time for anything of that sort. 
 Without doubt, Professor Scotch would not miss them 
 until it was too late. 
 
 Again Frank fought madly with his bonds, and again 
 he was baffled, relinquishing the struggle in despair. 
 
 But his brain was working. If their feet were freed! 
 How could the trick be done ? 
 
 Again the engine sent forth a wild shriek. 
 
 In frantic haste, Frank flung himself at full length on 
 the ground, rolled toward Hans, and finally twisted about 
 till they were back to back, his fingers touching the cord 
 that was knotted about the wrists of the Dutch youth. 
 
 This trick was not easily accomplished, for it was a 
 long time before Hans could understand what his com- 
 panion wanted to do. At length, however, Frank suc- 
 ceeded in getting into the position desired, and he began 
 picking and working at the Dutch boy's bonds. 
 
 Every knot had been drawn tight and hard, and Frank 
 was not aided in his efforts by his eyes. He was obliged 
 to depend entirely on his sense of touch, which pre- 
 vented him from making as rapid progress as he might 
 under other conditions. 
 
 Still he was not discouraged still he kept at work 
 desperately, hoping for success. 
 
 Sometimes he would loosen a knot, and then he might 
 get hold of it wrong and tighten it again, all because 
 he could not have his eyes to assist him. 
 
 At length, however, he succeeded in getting Hans re- 
 leased so the Dutch boy could set himself at liberty.
 
 152 Left! 
 
 Hans sat up deliberately, removed the gag from his 
 mouth, worked his jaws, and said: 
 
 "Uf dot don'd peen a britty pad scrabe, alretty !" 
 
 He then began to slowly and carefully untie the cords 
 which held his feet. 
 
 Frank was bursting with impatience, for every moment 
 was precious, and the train was liable to depart with- 
 out them at any time. He rolled up against his com- 
 panion, but the Dutch boy moved away, continuing to 
 slowly work at the knots which held his feet, as he said : 
 
 "Von dime I didn't know but we peen opliged to sday 
 oudt mit dis blace all nighd in. Dot peen a pad scrabe, eh, 
 Vrankie? You don'd like dot kindt uf a scrabe? Vot 
 you t'ink? You pelief dot gang vos roppers, ain'd id? 
 They dook our guns, but I don't pelief they dook notting 
 else, do you?" 
 
 Frank replied by giving Hans a kick that nearly 
 knocked him upon his back. 
 
 "Stob dot!" squawked the Dutch boy, moving still 
 farther away. "Vot you done dot I kick you like dot, 
 ain'd id?" 
 
 "You blockhead!" thought Frank, furiously. "The 
 train will leave us, after all !" 
 
 This belief made Frank so angry that he tried to 
 get near enough to give Hans another kick, but the Dutch 
 lad freed his feet and sprang up, observing : 
 
 "I don'd like dot, Vrankie. I haf enough uf dot to 
 last me a long dime, alretty yet." 
 
 Then he stared down at Frank, seeming to realize for 
 the first time that his companion was still helpless. 
 
 "Uf you keeb sdill, I couldt undie dot robe, Vrankie." 
 
 Frank groaned, and lay still. 
 
 Hans began, in the most awkward manner possible, 
 untying Frank's feet first, and he was very slow about it. 
 Just as this task was accomplished, the engine whistled 
 for the third time, and Frank felt that it was the last 
 warning. 
 
 Having set Frank's feet free, Hans began work on the 
 piece of rope that held his hands. It took him a full 
 minute to get it so the fuming lad could force his bonds. 
 
 Getting a hand clear, Frank tore the gag from his 
 mouth, leaped to his feet, and ran madly up the ravine.
 
 Left! 153 
 
 To his ears came the regular "puff-puff" of an engine 
 starting a train. 
 
 Frank shouted with the full strength of his voice, 
 he ran with all the speed he could command, and yet he 
 was certain he would be too late. 
 
 Panting, staggering, stumbling, shouting, he made his 
 way from the ravine and reached a point where he could 
 see the track, and, as he had expected, he was in time to 
 see the train rolling away in the distance, with a trail 
 of black smoke floating away above it, like a pirate flag. 
 
 "Gone!" gasped Frank, helplessly. 
 
 "Stob!" roared the voice of Hans, as the Dutch lad 
 came puffing to the spot. "Vot dot drain gone off like 
 dot vor, ain'd id?" 
 
 "Because you were so slow !" cried Frank, hotly. "Be- 
 cause you spent precious moments in setting me free, 
 when you might have hastened. If you had untied my 
 hands immediately on my setting yours free, I could have 
 torn that rope from my feet and got out here in time to 
 hold that train. 
 
 "Vos dot so?" 
 
 "Of course it is !" 
 
 "Und I peen all to plame vor losin' dot drain?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Vos dot so? Who vos id didn'd vant to go no furder 
 avay dot drain mit ? Who vos id run down der rocks indo, 
 und vos caught virst? Who vos id brobosed dis valkin* 
 pusiness ?" 
 
 "Well," confessed Frank, "I presume we are both to 
 blame. I led you into the trap, and you were too slow 
 to help us out when you had the opportunity. I won't 
 jump on you too hard, Hans ; I'll give myself a kick at the 
 same time." 
 
 "Veil, vot we goin' to do now, ain'd id ?" 
 
 "Walk." 
 
 "Valk?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Vich vay?" 
 
 "Toward Denver." 
 
 "How far vos dot?" 
 
 "Oh, about two hundred miles or more." 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmasl"
 
 154 
 
 Hans came near collapsing in a heap on the ground, 
 and he was such a picture of woeful dismay that a smile 
 was literally forced to Frank's face. 
 
 "You don't like the prospect, Hans?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't mindt der brospect ; id vos der valkin' vot 
 makes me tiredt." 
 
 "Well, it is not particularly agreeable to think about. 
 I haven't an idea how far it is to the first railway sta- 
 tion. We may not be able to obtain anything to eat for 
 a long time." 
 
 "Vot made you sbeak apout dot, Vrankie? Id makes 
 me hongry to haf you mention him." 
 
 "If we strike one of these Western deserts on our way, 
 we'll be able to obtain luncheon." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "Why, just think of the sand which is there." 
 
 "Sandviches there? Oh, yaw! I seen der boint now! 
 Yaw ! yaw ! yaw ! Vot baper you read dot in, Vrankie 
 Buck or Shudge?" 
 
 "Perhaps it was original." 
 
 "Oritchinal? I nefer seen dot baper." 
 
 "Well, if we don't want to sleep in the open air to- 
 night, we'll have to move. Come on ; we'll hoof it after 
 the train." 
 
 But just as they started, a familiar voice called : 
 
 "Hello, hello, my youthful friends! whither away so 
 hastily?"
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 MYSTERIOUS EXPLOSIONS. 
 
 Turning quickly, they beheld a long, lank, battered, 
 tattered, red-headed man, who was seated comfortably on 
 a stone, serenely smoking a short-stemmed "Missouri 
 meerschaum." 
 
 This man was Mr. Harden Pillsbury "Hard Pill," the 
 tramp. 
 
 Frank uttered an exclamation of satisfaction, and im- 
 mediately approached the vagrant, while Hans followed 
 doubtfully at the heels of his companion. 
 
 "There is no reason why you should tear yourselves 
 away," said Hard Pill, calmly. "Stop a while, and let's 
 be sociable. This is my parlor all outdoors. Sit down 
 on any of the furniture that comes handy make your- 
 selves at home." 
 
 "Thank you," smiled Frank. "You are very hospi- 
 table." 
 
 "That's natural can't help it ; born that way. I'm one 
 of the most generous beggars on two legs. I am always 
 willing to give away all I have. However, that may not 
 be so very strange, for I never have anything. Sit down. 
 Let's us have a sociable growl. Where are we at, any- 
 way? and how do we happen to find ourselves here?" 
 
 "We are here because the train went off and left us," 
 exclaimed Frank, as he sat down on another stone near 
 that which served Hard Pill. 
 
 "That is exactly why I am here," declared the tramp, 
 with a comical twist of his face. "When I found that 
 loose rail, I says to myself, says I, 'Pill, you've struck an 
 opportunity improve it; you're sure of a free pass into 
 Denver, and that's all you want.' I considered it a snap. 
 My heart rejoiced, and was exceedingly glad. I flagged 
 the train with this old red handkerchief of mine kept 
 the whole outfit from going to eternal smash. How did 
 they thank me? Wow! Wanted to lynch me! Tried
 
 156 Mysterious Explosions. 
 
 to fill me full of bullets ! I had to run for my life, and the 
 way I worked these long legs of mine surprised myself. 
 At one time I did think I'd never stop running, but I 
 got over my scare after I'd covered about two miles, and 
 then I sneaked back. Didn't know but I could manage to 
 get aboard the train some way. Was too late. Train 
 had pulled out when I got here. Just my luck. Never 
 mind ; what do you care ?" 
 
 "You are determined to take things philosophically, I 
 see." 
 
 "It's no good to take things otherwise, my boy. I've 
 knocked round the world till I've had the edges alt 
 knocked off me. I have about given up looking for an 
 opportunity. When I strike anything by accident, it 
 turns out same as this affair did to-day. But tell me how 
 you happened to get left. Did you wander so far from 
 the train that you could not get back after she began to 
 whistle a warning?" 
 
 "We didn't go very far; but we ran into trouble." 
 
 "Urn? How?" 
 
 Frank explained, telling how they had been captured 
 by the masked men and left to get out of the scrape as 
 best they could, how they had succeeded in freeing them- 
 selves, but were too late to catch the train. 
 
 Hard Pill whistled. 
 
 "Well," he said, "it's plain you struck the fellers who 
 pulled the spikes and loosened the rail. They're the 
 train-wreckers who have been operating in Colorado, and 
 there's a reward offered for their capture. If you'd cap- 
 ture them all, you'd make a ten-strike." 
 
 "Veil," broke in Hans, "I don'd know how we done 
 dot, unless we surroundet dem verllers." 
 
 "That would have been the slickest way," nodded Hard 
 Pill, soberly. "Say, boys, I've got a grudge against them 
 fellers. If they hadn't loosened that rail I shouldn't 
 have run into such deadly danger. They have no right to 
 endanger the lives of persons who may be peacefully me- 
 andering along the railway. There should be a law for it. 
 When I think it over it makes me real angry. I feel like 
 punching somebody's head. I'd like to meet those gents. 
 Kindly take me to the spot where they effected your 
 capture."
 
 Mysterious Explosions. 157 
 
 "We can'd vaste der time, Vrankie," protested Hans. 
 "Uf we don'd ged a move on, we don'd peen aple to valk 
 to Denver to-nighd britty queek right avay." 
 
 "You'll have to jig up a lively jog if you come any- 
 where near Denver in a week," said Hard Pill. "There's 
 a ranch over this way somewhere, and I'm goin' to make 
 for it. That's the place to stop to-night, and you'd better 
 come along." 
 
 Frank took a fancy to accompany Hard Pill, although 
 he knew the man might lead him into serious dangers. 
 
 Hans had to follow or be left, and he chose to follow 
 without further talk. 
 
 Frank led the way straight to the spot where they 
 had been captured by the train-wreckers. 
 
 The tramp examined the ground with a critical eye, 
 asked several questions, and then told the boys to fol- 
 low, striking down the ravine in the direction taken by 
 the departing desperadoes. 
 
 Hard Pill walked with a long, swinging step that en- 
 abled him to cover ground at astonishing speed, and the 
 boys were forced to hustle to keep up with him. For all 
 of his speed, the man's footfalls were soft and catlike, 
 and there was something pantherish in his appearance, as 
 Frank fancied. 
 
 The ragged vagabond kept his eyes on the ground, and 
 he seemed to follow the trail left by the masked ruffians 
 followed it with the ease and skill of an Indian trailer. 
 
 He was not inclined to talk much after taking up the 
 trail, and the boys remained silent, paying attention to 
 the task of keeping up with him. 
 
 Suddenly a startling thing occurrred. High up in the 
 air, away to the east, sounded a heavy explosion. 
 
 The trio looked up instantly, but they saw nothing but 
 a puff of bluish smoke that quickly vanished into thin 
 air and was gone. 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas !" gurgled Hans, in terror. "Vot 
 vos dot, ain'd id?" 
 
 "It wasn't thunder," said Frank. 
 
 "No, it was not," agreed Hard Pill. "It sounded like 
 the bursting of a bombshell." 
 
 "Maype dot peen id !" fluttered the Dutch lad. "Maype 
 there haf peens a vaw deglared mit dis gountry on, und
 
 158 Mysterious Explosions. 
 
 dot vos a pombshell vrom a vawship New York Harbor 
 in. You know vot we read apoudt dose long-range guns. 
 Vrankie?" 
 
 Frank was utterly bewildered, for he could not under- 
 stand the cause of the explosion, if an explosion it had 
 been. It was neither thunder, a cloudburst, nor a cyclone 
 
 "What do you think it was, Mr. Pillsbury?" he asked. 
 
 The tramp staggered. 
 
 "Mr. Pillsbury!" he gasped. "Say, go light; I have a 
 weak heart. You are the first one who has called me 
 anything but Hard Pill, or bum, or something of that sort 
 in twenty years. Don't do it again ! I have delicate 
 nerves, as well as a weak heart." 
 
 "All right," laughed Frank ; "but what do you think it 
 was?" 
 
 "You tell." 
 
 "Can't." 
 
 "Let's watch a while. Maybe there'll be another. Keep 
 your eyes open in the sky." 
 
 "Und be reaty to dodge uf id comes dis vay," advised 
 Hans. 
 
 They sat down and watched, looking upward and about 
 them toward the sky. 
 
 They had not watched thus a great while when Frank 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "Look there! What's that?" 
 
 He caught Hard Pill by the arm, and pointed away 
 toward the east, where a black ball was seen slowly and 
 steadily rising into the sky. 
 
 "It looks like a large toy balloon," said the tramp. 
 
 "That's what it does."' 
 
 "Sus-sus-say," chattered the Dutch boy, "were vos a 
 blace I can grawl indo from ?" 
 
 "Kepp cool, Hans," advised Frank. "Don't talk; 
 watch." 
 
 "Vot for?" 
 
 "We want to see whatll happen." 
 
 "Oxcuse me ! I don'cl peen anxious to seen dot." 
 
 Higher and higher rose the black ball, from which a 
 basket-like something was dangling. 
 
 All at once, the watching trio saw a blaze of fire, a 
 bursting puff of smoke, and the black ball had disap-
 
 Mysterious Explosions. 159 
 
 peared from the sky in the twinkling of an eye. Directly 
 after this came the sound of the explosion, which was 
 far heavier than the first one. 
 
 Hans dropped on his knees, and mumbled: 
 
 "Dis vos der endt uf der vorld alretty come, I pet you 
 zwi dollars !" 
 
 Frank was filled with wonder, and Hard Pill seemed 
 puzzled to know the meaning of the mysterious explo- 
 sions. 
 
 "There's some kind of rascality behind this," declared 
 the tramp. "Stay here. I'm going to investigate." 
 
 And then, for all that Frank called to him, he darted 
 away, quickly disappearing. 
 
 Frank was not at all pleased with this, not being ready 
 to trust the tramp. 
 
 "I propose to do some investigating myself," he said. 
 "Follow me, Hans." 
 
 "Vere to?" 
 
 "To find out what those explosions mean." 
 
 "Oh, dunder und blitzen ! don'd gone dot vay, Vrankie! 
 I don'd vant to done so ! Uf I do, you vos a deat man !" 
 
 "Don't be foolish come along ! We don't want to stay 
 here." 
 
 "I had petter stayed here than gone ofer dot vay. I 
 don'd feel so veil as you might. Why don'd we gone back 
 to der railroat righd avay off ?" 
 
 After no small amount of trouble, Frank succeeded in 
 inducing the Dutch lad to follow him, and he struck out 
 toward the point from which the balloon, or whatever 
 it was, had seemed to ascend. 
 
 For more than thirty minutes they hurried forward at a 
 brisk pace, and during that time there were no explosions. 
 
 Frank had begun to wonder if there was a chance 
 of finding the spot from which the balloons rose, when, all 
 at once, a huge round ball shot up into the air just ahead 
 of them.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE EXPERIMENTER. 
 
 Hans uttered a gasp of dismay, and fell to the ground, 
 gurgling : 
 
 "Dunder und blitzen ! you vas a goner !" 
 
 Three long strides brought Frank to a point where he 
 could look out into a bit of open land, and there he saw 
 a wagon, a horse, and a man. The latter was paying out 
 a line attached to the balloon, for such the round ball was, 
 as Frank had believed. 
 
 "What's he doing?" thought the wondering boy. "This 
 beats my time ! Is he crazy ? Hear him mutter !" 
 
 The stranger was roughly dressed, and wore a full black 
 beard. His hat lay on the ground, so that it's wide brim 
 might not obstruct his view of the balloon. He was mut- 
 tering and mumbling as the balloon ascended. 
 
 Hans crept up behind Frank, past whom he peered at 
 the man, his teeth chattering. 
 
 "Led's get avay oudt uf this, Vrankie !" he whispered. 
 "Uf we don'd, you vos a deadt boy !" 
 
 "Keep still," ordered Frank. "Look watch wait!" 
 
 "Vait! Vait for vat? To peen blowed to kinkdom 
 gone ?" 
 
 Before long the end of the line was nearly reached. 
 It ran into the wagon, toward which the man sprang. He 
 did something, and then there was another explosion, 
 far up in the air. The balloon was blown to a thousand 
 fragments. 
 
 Hans tumbled over backward, and lay groaning on the 
 ground. 
 
 All at once, Frank dropped beside the Dutch lad, over 
 whose mouth a hand was clasped, while Merriwell softly 
 panted : 
 
 "Keep still ! Here are the masked train-wreckers ! 
 They're coming to investigate. If they find us well, 
 we may not get off as easy as we did the other time.''
 
 The Experimenter. 161 
 
 Hans sat up. Some bowlders concealed the two lads 
 from the view of any one within the opening. Peering 
 forth, they saw the masked men surround the wagon, 
 the horse, and the author of the mysterious explosions. 
 The leader of the gang confronted the man, and de- 
 manded : 
 
 "What does this mean? Explain it! What are you 
 exploding away up there in the air?" 
 
 "Dynamite, giant powder, anything to make a thunder- 
 ing noise," was the reply. 
 
 "Well, why are you doing that? Are those explosions 
 signals ?" 
 
 "You bet!" 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 "Moisture." 
 
 The masked men muttered. They seemed mystified and 
 bewildered ; but they were no more bewildered than were 
 the two lads peering from behind the bowlders. 
 
 "He's crazy!" sibilated Frank. 
 
 "As a pedbug!" whispered Hans. 
 
 Some of the men spoke with one another in asides. 
 They fell into groups about the stranger, who seemed 
 serene and unconcerned, for all of their presence. 
 
 In a few moments the leader asked: 
 
 "What do you mean by such a reply? What do you 
 mean by saying those explosions mean moisture?" 
 
 "Just what I said," was the sharp reply. "What do 
 you mean by coming round and bothering me. I haven't 
 time to waste with you. You are retarding the advance 
 of science you are making yourself very obnoxious. I 
 wish you would go away." 
 
 "That's nerve," thought Frank Merriwell. "That is a 
 first-class bluff." 
 
 The leader of the masked men was somewhat angered. 
 His hand fell on the shoulder of the black-bearded indi- 
 vidual, and he growled: 
 
 "You had better be a little more respectful, my man! 
 We are not to be trifled with." 
 
 "So?" 
 
 "You will find it so. Now, you talk straight, or we 
 may take a fancy to fill you full of holes. I want you to- 
 answer some questions."
 
 1 62 The Experimenter. 
 
 "Fire away." 
 
 "What are you doing?" 
 
 "Making rain." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "It is condensed vapor precipitated from the clouds." 
 
 "You don't mean to say you can't mean that " 
 
 "My dear sir, that is exactly what I mean. It has been 
 demonstrated that clouds gather after heavy battles and 
 rain falls. It is believed that this is brought about by 
 heavy concussions. I am experimenting. I am attempt- 
 ing to kick up a shower. This wagon is loaded with giant 
 powder and dynamite. I have a number of balloons, and 
 I make my gas with this small charcoal stove. I have 
 been sending up balloons and exploding them with elec- 
 tricity, the battery to generate which is also here in the 
 wagon. That is a full and complete explanation, and I 
 hope you are satisfied." 
 
 The masked men looked at each other. They seemed 
 hesitating and doubtful. One of them went to pawing 
 around the wagon, and the stranger immediately cried: 
 
 "Better let that alone, if you don't want to blow us all 
 sky-high! It's dynamite!" 
 
 The man fell back precipitately ; all seemed alarmed. 
 
 "You don't think you can bring on a rainstorm now, 
 do you?" asked the leader of the masks. "This is the 
 wrong season of the year." 
 
 "So much the better. The dryer the atmosphere the bet- 
 ter I am pleased. If I succeed, my triumph will be all 
 the greater. It doesn't make any difference to me whether 
 I bring on a rainstorm or a snowstorm. Either will show 
 me my experiment is successful. The name of Prof. 
 Turner Side will be spread broadcast throughout the 
 land. I shall become famous." 
 
 "Hank," said the leader, addressing the big fellow, 
 "come out here. I want to talk to you." 
 
 They drew aside, put their heads close together, and 
 spoke in low tones. Turner Side knew they were speak- 
 ing of him, but he seemed cool and unconcerned. They 
 did not worry him in the least. 
 
 Some moments passed. Plainly the men were doubt- 
 ful. The leader turned to the rainmaker once more.
 
 The Experimenter. 163 
 
 "How did you happen to select this spot on which 
 to carry on your experiments ?" he asked. 
 
 "How did I ? Give it up. Wanted to get away where 
 I should not be seen. Didn't care to let everybody know 
 all about it if I failed in my efforts. Left the train at 
 Wild Horse. Hired this wagon and beast and came here. 
 That's all." 
 
 "You may be telling the truth, but " 
 
 "I am a peaceable man, but I shall feel it my duty to 
 thump you real hard if you call me a liar." 
 
 "Then I won't call you that; but you'll be watched, and, 
 if it turns out that you have lied well, it will be very 
 unfortunate for you." 
 
 "All right; let it go at that. I don't care. I'll move 
 into the next county. Don't fancy being watched. Some- 
 body might steal my secret and go into the rainmaking 
 business." 
 
 "You do not seem to have brought down much rain 
 around here." 
 
 "I had just begun." 
 
 "So? Well, go on. Come, boys." 
 
 The leader moved away, and his men followed. Turner 
 Side watched them till all had disappeared from view, 
 and then he turned to his wagon, muttering : 
 
 "Too bad! Broke me off right in the middle of my 
 experiments. Let it go. Won't try it any more to-day. 
 I'll strike for the ranch I saw away to the northeast." 
 
 He began making preparations to hitch the horse, a 
 scrawny, razor-backed beast, into the thills. 
 
 A sudden impulse seized Frank and he sprang to his 
 feet, walking boldly toward the would-be rainmaker. 
 
 The man looked up and saw the lad approaching. 
 
 "Hello!" he exclaimed. "More visitors. Well, well! 
 I didn't suppose there were so many people within a hun- 
 dred miles." 
 
 Frank spoke. 
 
 "With a friend, I happened to overhear your conversa- 
 tion with those masked men. We also heard you say you 
 intended striking out for a nearby ranch." 
 
 "Oh, it is not so near. It is at least fifteen or twenty 
 miles away. Saw it from an elevation. Have good eyes 
 in my head. It's a cattle ranch, for I could see the herds.
 
 1 64 The Experimenter. 
 
 Must be a barbed-wire ranch. Thought I might stop to- 
 night." 
 
 "Just so. Now, my friend and myself have been left 
 here stranded. We've got to stop somewhere to-night. 
 What say if we go along with you? We'll pay." 
 
 "Come along. There won't be any trouble about pay. 
 We'll travel along together." 
 
 Frank went back and spoke to Hans, but it was some 
 time before the Dutch lad could be induced to trust him- 
 self with the rainmaker. He felt sure the man was crazy. 
 
 By the time Hans' fears were overcome Turner Side 
 had gathered up everything and hitched the old horse into 
 the thills of the wagon. 
 
 "Come on, boys," he called, as the lads slowly ap- 
 proached. "We ain't got time to waste if we want to 
 strike that ranch to-night. This fiery, untamed steed 
 may feel inclined to loiter on the way." 
 
 Frank thought of Hard Pill. He did not want to 
 abandon the vagrant, and he vaguely wondered where 
 the tramp could be. 
 
 "What's it best to do?" he asked himself. 
 
 The answer came quickly. 
 
 "Hard Pill can take care of himself, and we'll look out 
 for ourselves." 
 
 The boys climbed on the wagon, and Mr. Side whipped 
 up the old horse. 
 
 "Never saw such a country," he grumbled. "Looks de- 
 serted, but a little noise seems to bring men and boys 
 out of the ground." 
 
 He found a road out of the opening. In about half 
 an hour they left the broken ground and struck the 
 great plain. The strange man did not seem to hesitate 
 about the direction they should pursue. He selected the 
 course, and the wagon went creaking and complaining 
 across the brown expanse.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE STAMPEDE. 
 
 Having left the broken country near the railroad, it was 
 not long before they came to a barbed-wire fence. Still 
 there was no ranch building to be seen, nor yet any graz- 
 ing herds in view. 
 
 The rainmaker explained that the fence might inclose a 
 "grazing range" hundreds of miles square, the property 
 of several large cattle raisers, who thus kept their herds 
 from the railroad, but allowed them to mingle freely, each 
 owner distinguishing his cattle by the brand, as of old, be- 
 fore the time of barbed-wire fences. 
 
 "This fence stops us," said Frank. "How are we going 
 on?" 
 
 "Dot's vot I'd like to know," spoke up Hans. 
 
 "I go prepared for such emergencies," replied the man, 
 as he fumbled beneath the wagon seat and brought out 
 some strong cutnippers. "We'll soon make an opening." 
 
 "But but have you a right to cut the fence?" 
 
 "I'll take the right." 
 
 Down from the wagon sprang the strange man. Snap, 
 snap, he clipped two strands. Then he swung them aside, 
 and told Frank to drive through. 
 
 When the wagon had passed beyond the fence, Turner 
 Side tossed the nippers back beneath the seat, brought out 
 some pieces of wire, and swiftly mended the out strands, 
 so the fence was unbroken once more. 
 
 "That is what I call handiness !" laughed Frank. "You 
 must have known what you were liable to run across out 
 here." 
 
 "Oh, I know something about barbed-wire fences. If 
 a fellow runs on one of them without having nippers in 
 his possession, he is liable to travel a hundred miles round 
 to get ten miles across." 
 
 "Don't the ranchers ever kick about having the fence 
 cut?"
 
 1 66 The Stampede. 
 
 "Not if they know you mend it so it is good as ever. 
 If you cut it and left it, you'd stand a first-class show of 
 getting shot." 
 
 They drove on. The old horse was lame, and the boys 
 walked beside the wagon much of the way. In fact, Hans 
 preferred to walk all of the time, as he was afraid of the 
 explosives which the wagon contained. 
 
 Frank asked Mr. Side many questions about rainmak- 
 ing, and the man endeavored to explain his theory of pro- 
 ducing showers by means of heavy explosions. He used 
 so many large words and scientific terms that his explana- 
 tions were rather vague and foggy to the boys, and it is 
 doubtful if he thoroughly understood what he was talk- 
 ing about himself. 
 
 After a while, the rainmaker fell to questioning the 
 boys, and Frank told how they came to be left by the 
 Overland Flyer. 
 
 "Those gentlemen who wear masks," observed Mr. 
 Side, "may be very dangerous customers. All I want of 
 them is to let me alone." 
 
 "Something ought to be done to break up the dastardly 
 band !" cried Frank, hotly. "Just think of a body of men 
 banded together to wreck trains and rob the dead and 
 dying passengers ! It is horrible !" 
 
 "It is rather unpleasant to think of," acknowledged 
 the man. "They are desperate fellows." 
 
 "They are inhuman monsters ! They should be hanged, 
 every one of them !" 
 
 "I think you are right, but I would not be too free in 
 expressing my views on that point ; you don't know who 
 may be in sympathy with them around these parts." 
 
 "I am sure you are not." 
 
 "You are safe on that point, but there are others. Heed 
 my warning; keep still about the train-wreckers." 
 
 "I'd like to be able to turn the whole gang over to the 
 law." 
 
 "A very commendable desire; but it is not at all likely 
 you will be able to do anything of the sort." 
 
 "I'd lik to know vot pecome uf dot Hardt Bill," said 
 Hans. 
 
 "That fellow is a mystery," declared Frank. "If he had
 
 The Stampede. 167 
 
 not stopped the train, and thus saved it from being 
 wrecked, I should believe him one of the gang." 
 
 "He may be," said Turner Side. "That piece of bus- 
 iness may have been some part of a scheme that failed to 
 work. Who knows?" 
 
 "I don't believe he is anything but a wretched tramp 
 who stumbled along the track just in time to discover the 
 loose rail before the flyer came along." 
 
 "Veil," said Hans, "I don'd know vat he peen, but I'd 
 like to know ver he vent to alretty queek right avay ven 
 he left -us." 
 
 "I shall not worry about him," laughed Frank. "He'll 
 take care of himself." 
 
 It was a clear autumn day, and now, far to the west- 
 ward, a hundred and fifty miles away, they could see the 
 bluish ridge of the Rockies, with Pike's Peak looming 
 blue and white amid the range. It did not seem possible 
 that the mountains were so far away, but Turner Side 
 assured them that it was all of a hundred and fifty miles 
 to the base of Pike's Peak. 
 
 The plains were brown, the grass having been baked 
 into fairly good hay by the summer's heat and sunshine. 
 
 The old horse plodded steadily on, mile after mile, and 
 yet the ranch they were seeking did not come into view. 
 
 Finally the trio heard a faint, rumbling sound that 
 seemed to come up out of the very earth. 
 
 "What's that?" asked Frank, in surprise. 
 
 "Dunder," suggested Hans. 
 
 Turner Side stopped the team and listened. 
 
 With each passing moment the sound grew louder and 
 louder, swelling steadily and ominously. 
 
 "Look out for squalls," said the man. "If that isn't a 
 cyclone, the chances are it is something fully as bad." 
 
 Frank's eyes swept the horizon, and a cry broke from 
 his lips. 
 
 "Look away to the west! What is that?" 
 
 They looked in the direction he was pointing, and the 
 plain seemed covered with a dense moving mass that 
 drew nearer and was more plainly seen with each moment. 
 
 "Vot is id?" gasped Hans. 
 
 "A stampede, by the eternal skies!" shouted Turner
 
 1 68 The Stampede. 
 
 Side. "That is a great drove of cattle, and it is headed 
 this way!" 
 
 "Then we're in danger?" 
 
 "I should say so. If we do not get out of the way, 
 we'll be run over by those mad animals trampled to 
 death exterminated !" 
 
 "Our only hope is to get out of their course!" came 
 from Frank. "We must let them pass." 
 
 "Right you are," agreed Turner. "We must keep 
 straight ahead." 
 
 Then he lashed the old horse with the rawhide whip, 
 and they were soon rattling along as swiftly as the crea- 
 ture could carry them. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the great drove of mad cat- 
 tle, spreading out against the horizon line, in a man- 
 ner that made Frank's heart sink within him. 
 
 "We can't escape!" 
 
 "It doesn't look like it," confessed the man, whose 
 face was very pale. "The old horse is doing his best 
 now." 
 
 "It is a singular thing that this stampede should come 
 in our direction just now." 
 
 "It is rather remarkable." 
 
 "Maype they vill durn oudt vor us," fluttered Hans. 
 
 "Never," declared the rainmaker. "We'll be swept 
 away like so much chaff! If we can't get out of their 
 way, we are done for." 
 
 It was not long before it became evident that such a 
 thing was impossible. The old horse was doing his best, 
 still Turner plied the whip. Finally the horse stumbled 
 and went down in a heap, throwing the trio from the 
 wagon. 
 
 It had been a wild ride, for they had not known at what 
 moment the jolting of the wagon might cause some of the 
 dynamite to explode, so they would all be blown to pieces ; 
 but the ride was ended now, and they were still in the 
 road of the oncoming herd. 
 
 "Done for!" palpitated Frank, struggling to his feet. 
 "The old horse has broken a leg ! There is no escape now." 
 
 "You are right," confessed Turner Side. "We cannot 
 escape them on foot!" 
 
 The rumbling sound had increased to a dull roaring,
 
 The Stampede. 169 
 
 and the ground quivered beneath the tread of hundreds 
 of hoofed feet. With clashing horns, fiery eyes, bellow- 
 ing madly, the furious herd rushed down upon the un- 
 lucky trio. 
 
 At times a steer would fall, others would go whirling 
 over him, still others would pile upon them, and then the 
 ones that were down would be crushed and trodden into 
 the very ground, and the herd flew on. 
 
 "See !" shouted Frank. "There are men behind them 
 masked men, with whips and revolvers ! They have stam- 
 peded the cattle ! They are driving the herd in this direc- 
 tion r 
 
 "Right!" cried the rainmaker. "Those are the train- 
 wreckers ! They have stampeded the herd in this direc- 
 tion! It is a trick a scheme to kill us all to wipe 
 us off the face of the earth !" 
 
 The horsemen who were urging the frightened cattle on 
 with whips and firearms could be plainly seen. They were 
 lashing the tailenders of the herd, they were yelling and 
 shooting into the air, and they were directing the herd 
 toward the stranded wagon ! 
 
 Frank was furious. 
 
 v This is murder !" he grated. "Those men believe we 
 know too much. It is their plot to put us out of the way, 
 and it will seem that we were killed by accident !" 
 
 He longed for some means of defending himself, but 
 there seemed none. Hans was lying stunned on the 
 ground, and Frank would not have deserted the Dutch 
 lad, even though he could have saved his own life by doing 
 so. 
 
 "Wait!" screamed the rainmaker. "It's our only 
 chance it's a bare hope!" 
 
 Frank did not know what the man meant. He saw 
 Turner Side grab something from the wagon, saw him 
 run straight toward the oncoming herd. It seemed that 
 the man was rushing headlong to his death, and Frank 
 watched with baited breath. 
 
 In his hands Turner carried a can two cans. What 
 did he mean to do with them? How could he hope to 
 check or turn the mad herd? 
 
 "He's crazy!" muttered the boy. "He has gone mad I 
 All of us are lost !"
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 SPLITTING THE HERD. 
 
 The hoofbeats of the mad herd made the ground trem- 
 ble like the jarring of a distant earthquake, and rilled the 
 air with a sound similar to the steady roll of thunder 
 the pouring of a Niagara. 
 
 Above the herd rose a cloud of dust, beyond wh*e*i oc- 
 casional glimpses of mounted men could be seen. Tney 
 were wielding whips and yelling madly, but not a sound 
 of their cries came to the ears of the unlucky trio in the 
 track of the stampede. Through this dust cloud flashes 
 of fire were seen now and then, plainly telling that the 
 men were urging the cattle onward by firing their rifles 
 and revolvers. 
 
 Frank shuddered and stood fascinated, spellbound, in- 
 capable of action. 
 
 Still the rainmaker ran straight toward the herd, the 
 sunlight glistening cok?ly on the tin of the two cans he 
 carried. 
 
 "He has gone mad !" repeated Frank. "He fancies he 
 can frighten the cattle some way by running to meet them. 
 There is no hope for any of us. It is doubtful if the 
 world ever knows how we died, for we shall be blotted out 
 of existence. Professor Scotch will search for us in vain." 
 
 And now terror no longer dominated him, but a sort of 
 stupor came upon him, and he stood there, calmly await- 
 ing death beneath the crushing hoofs of the wild cattle. 
 Most persons become calm when they know death is right 
 at hand and cannot be avoided; thus with Frank Merri- 
 well. He knew there could be little suffering; he would 
 go down beneath the feet of the foremost steers, and it 
 would be all over in the twinkling of an eye. He could 
 feel no more than a shock ; he doubted if he would experi- 
 ence pain. 
 
 Suddenly his eyes turned from the herd to the rain- 
 maker, The man had stopped he was carefully placing
 
 Splitting the Herd. 171 
 
 the cans on the ground at some distance from each 
 other he was coming back toward the wagon as fast a* 
 his legs would carry him. 
 
 Still Frank wondered. What did it mean ? How could 
 those innocent-looking cans check or turn the stampeded 
 cattle ? 
 
 As he ran toward the wagon, the man wildly motioned 
 to the boy, but Frank did not understand, the meaning 
 of his signals. He saw Turner Side open his mouth, he 
 knew Turner was shrieking some words, but every other 
 sound was drowned in the thunder roar of the stampede. 
 
 The earth seemed to quake with terror beneath the 
 feet of the boy who stood beside the wagon so calmly re- 
 garding advancing doom. He could see the fiery eyes of 
 the mad steers, could see the dust blown from their nos- 
 trils like smoke, could see their horns glinting like bris- 
 tling bayonets in the sunlight. 
 
 The van of the herd were close upon the cans had 
 reached them, and then 
 
 It seemed that the earth upheaved to the sky, and the 
 very heavens were rent asunder. There was such a roar 
 as might come from the mouths of a hundred cannon. 
 Frank caught a glimpse of a black mass of earth and 
 cattle flung far into the air, and at the same time the 
 shock hurled him prostrate and stunned upon the ground. 
 
 Dazed though he was, Frank understood what had 
 happened, and he gasped : 
 
 "Nitro-glycerine dynamite something of the sort! 
 That's what the cans contained ! The hoofs of the cattle 
 exploded it!" 
 
 Deafened and dazed, he lifted himself on one elbow 
 and looked toward the spot where the explosion had taken 
 place. At the same time he saw the rainmaker, who had 
 also been flung to the ground, sit up and look toward the 
 herd. 
 
 Where the cans had been there was a great hole in 
 the ground. Scores of torn and mangled steers had 
 been hurled in every direction from that spot. The herd 
 was split it was swinging to the right and left they 
 were saved ! 
 
 Saved? Yes, if the herd did not unite again, they were 
 saved. That great opening in the ground yawned di-
 
 172 Splitting the Herd. 
 
 rectly in the path of the stampeded cattle, and the leaders 
 had been frightened into dividing. Having divided, it 
 was doubtful if they would unite again. 
 
 Turner Side got upon his feet and ran toward the 
 wagon. Frank struggled up, and found Hans sitting with 
 his back against a wheel, staring, shivering, quaking. It 
 seemed as if the shock of the explosion had aroused him 
 from his stunned condition. 
 
 And the horse the old horse was getting on his feet ! 
 The creature's leg had not been broken after all ! 
 
 "Hurrah !" screamed Frank. "We're all right !" 
 
 The rainmaker came rushing up. He leaped upon the 
 wagon, caught up a rifle, brought the butt to his shoulder. 
 And then, standing thus, he worked the repeater so 
 swiftly that a steady stream of fire and smoke seemed to 
 pour from its muzzle. 
 
 He was shooting over the herd he was trying to reach 
 some of the masked horsemen ! 
 
 "Give it to 'em !" shouted Frank, in savage joy. "They 
 tried to kill us ! Salt some of them, if you can !" 
 
 The man could not have heard a word, but he did not 
 need such advice. He was thoroughly aroused, and 
 the wondering boy admired him at that moment. 
 
 To the right and left rolled the cattle, to the right and 
 left swept the mounted men, and they took good care to 
 keep beyond ordinary rifle shot. 
 
 The cloud of dust closed in and covered the wagon 
 nnd the human beings near it like a pall. For some min- 
 utes the stampeded cattle continued to thunder past. At 
 length they swept on, and the danger was over. The 
 masked horsemen were seen departing with the cattle. 
 
 The rainmaker refilled the magazine of his rifle with 
 cartridges. Then he sprang to the ground and proceeded 
 to examine the horse. He lifted the animal's feet, he felt 
 of its legs, he nodded with satisfaction. 
 
 "Dead lucky!" he said aloud. "Leg wasn't broken, 
 after all. Critter's all right. We'll make the ranch, and 
 our colors will be flying. It's rather hard work to down 
 Turner Side." 
 
 Frank hurried to the strange man, grasped his hand, 
 and shook it with great heartiness.
 
 Splitting the Herd. 173 
 
 "You're a dandy, Mr. Side!" cried the boy. "That 
 was a great trick ! It saved our lives !" 
 
 "Without a doubt, young man. So it seems that my 
 stock is good for something, if I have not been able to 
 kick up a rainstorm with it." 
 
 "I couldn't imagine what you were doing; I thought 
 you had gone crazy. My wits must have been dulled 
 just then." 
 
 "Veil," said the Dutch lad, who had gathered himself 
 up from the ground, "don'd you peen surbrised at dot, 
 Vrankie ; mem vits vas fulled a leedle bit, you pet me my 
 life!" 
 
 Those fellows who stampeded the herd didn't seem to 
 care about getting too near us," chuckled Turner. "They 
 sheered off beyond good rifle shot." 
 
 "I don't wonder," laughed Frank. "That explosion 
 must have given them a shock. They didn't know but 
 there'd be another." 
 
 "I'd like to get a can of that stuff under them !" cried 
 the rainmaker. "They wouldn't wreck any more trains." 
 
 The divided herd was rolling on to the east in two sec- 
 tions, the thunder of their hoofs sounding fainter and 
 fainter with each moment. 
 
 No longer were the cattle pursued by the masked 
 horsemen. The two parties had united, and they were rid- 
 ing away to the north. 
 
 "That shows they intended to destroy us with the cat- 
 tle," said Turner. "Having failed, they follow the crea- 
 tures no farther." 
 
 "The dastardly wretches!" 
 
 "Well, we won't let 'em worry us any more to-day. 
 Come on, old horse ; let's see if you are able to draw this 
 load." 
 
 The horse was still quivering with the fear that had 
 made it stand still after getting on its feet; but the ani- 
 mal started at the word, and the wagon rolled on once 
 more. 
 
 Man and boys walked. They could have crawled and 
 been thankful. 
 
 In time the herd and the horsemen had disappeared. 
 
 There was enough to talk about as they pressed for*
 
 174 Splitting the Herd. 
 
 ward. Such an adventure could provide material for 
 any amount of discussion. 
 
 After a while, however, Turner Side grew taciturn and 
 moody. He ceased to take any part in the conversation 
 unless questioned, and then he answered curtly. He 
 seemed to be thinking, speculating, planning. 
 
 In time they came in view of some ranch buildings, 
 toward which they headed direct. The buildings did 
 not seem many miles away, but the sun was well down 
 toward the distant peaks of the Rockies, and the after- 
 noon was far spent before they came near the ranch- 
 house and corrals. 
 
 Fierce dogs barked and ran out toward them, some 
 men came round one of the corrals, and another man 
 whistled to the dogs from the broad veranda of the 
 house. 
 
 Hans quickly climbed on the wagon to get away from 
 the dogs, but the creatures responded to the shrill whistle 
 of the man on the veranda, and quickly turned back. 
 He drove them away to one of the stables, and then came 
 forward to meet the boys and the rainmaker. 
 
 He was dressed roughly, but was smoking a fragrant 
 cigar. His mustache and imperial were coal black, as also 
 were his piercing eyes. 
 
 "Hello, strangers !" he bluffly called. " Whar away ? an' 
 whar from?" 
 
 "I, sir," explained the rainmaker, "am Prof. Turner 
 Side, experimentalist. I have come out to these parts 
 to conduct a few experiments with the atmosphere." 
 
 "Wa-al, I'm right glad to see yer, professor. Give us 
 yer paw. My name's Robinson Lije Robinson an' this 
 yars' my ranch. Ye're welcome to stay hyar just as long 
 as yer want to, an' don't yer fergit it." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Robinson; you are a gentleman a 
 thorough gentleman. We'll gladly accept your hospital- 
 ity. Permit me to introduce my companions. Mr. Robin- 
 son, this is Frank Merriwell; and this is Hans Dunner- 
 wust. These young gentlemen were dropped from the 
 Overland Flyer." 
 
 "Dropped?" questioned Robinson, with a puzzled ex- 
 pression on his face as he shook hands with the boys. 
 "How dropped?"
 
 Splitting the Herd. 175 
 
 Frank explained, and the rancher whistled. 
 
 "So the train-wreckers are at it again, and they're near 
 us, eh? Wa-al, I like that thar dern my hoofs if I 
 don't!" 
 
 The way he uttered the words seemed to indicate he did 
 not like it. 
 
 Turner Side continued to explain, telling of the stam- 
 pede, while Robinson listened with a queer frown on his 
 face. When the rainmaker had finished, the rancher said : 
 
 "Herder brought in word a bunch had stampeded, but 
 he didn't seem ter know thar wuz human critters behind 
 it. I've sent out men ter look arter the critters." 
 
 After a moment, Robinson whistled again, and this 
 time the signal brought two men running to the spot. 
 
 "Hyar, boys," he said, "take car' o' this yar hawse, 
 while I take car' o' these uns. Come, Side; come on, 
 boys. I'll allow you may be hungry." 
 
 "I can eat a pair of broiled boots !" exclaimed Frank. 
 
 "Wa-al, yer shall have something better as soon as it 
 can be made ready fer yer. Come inter ther house." 
 
 They followed him.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 A RANCH DANCE. 
 
 1 Robinson had a wife and daughter. The latter was 
 black-eyed, like her father, and rather pretty in a wild 
 sort of way. She was two or three years older than 
 Frank, but the boy caught her regarding him with admir- 
 ing eyes more than once during supper. 
 
 Hans tried to flirt with the girl, but she gave him such 
 a snub that he was quite upset. 
 
 Her name was Edna, and Robinson saw that both lads 
 were introduced to her. 
 
 "Want yer ter make yerselves right ter home," said the 
 rancher. "We're sociable people hyar. 'Tain't often we 
 have visitors from ther East." 
 
 After supper, as they were sitting on the veranda, 
 watching the glow of the sunset, which rose over the 
 purple Rockies, amid which Pike's Peak gleamed snowily, 
 Robinson said: 
 
 "You fellers come along at just about ther right time. 
 We're goin' ter have a hoe-down hyar ter-night." 
 
 "A hoe-down ?" questioned Frank. "What's that ?" 
 
 "Don't yer know what a hoe-down is? Why, it's a 
 'dance, of course. Haw ! haw ! haw !" 
 
 "Why, of course it is !" exclaimed Frank, rather em- 
 barrassed. "I should have known that." 
 
 "Oh, wa-al, you're excusable, seein' as how ye're a ten- 
 derfoot. Tenderfeet ain't expected ter know ev'rything." 
 
 "Vos you peen goin' to haf a tance?" cried Hans, in de- 
 light. "Veil, uf dot don'd peen der stuff! Don'd I vos 
 glat I gome!" 
 
 "Yeh," nodded Robinson, who was smoking another 
 cigar; "goin' ter have a reg'lar ole rip-snorter. Invited 
 everybody fer a hundred miles around hyar. They'll be 
 comin' in purty soon." 
 
 All at once, Turner Side made a leap and came to his 
 feet, crying:
 
 A Ranch Dance. 177 
 
 "Great smoke! I forgot to say anything to the cow- 
 boys about the contents of my wagon! If they go to 
 monkeying with that stuff, they're liable to blow up the 
 whole ranch!" 
 
 Round the corner he plunged, running toward the 
 stable, whither the wagon had been taken. 
 
 Robinson rose deliberatly, saying : 
 
 "Dern my boots ! it's lucky ther boys ain't been no sin' 
 round that yar wagon." 
 
 Then he slowly followed the rainmaker. 
 
 Shortly after this the first squad of visitors arrived, 
 bringing the musicians with them. These musicians were 
 three decidedly villainous-looking Mexicans, a violinist, a 
 harper, and a guitar player. There were three other men, 
 and two women, in the party. 
 
 From that time onward the visitors came thickly, and 
 Robinson was on hand to welcome them all. 
 
 Frank felt a touch on his arm, and saw Turner Side 
 at his elbow. The rainmaker walked round the corner 
 of the cabin, and the boy followed. 
 
 "Are you armed ?" whispered the man. 
 
 "No. Train-wreckers took my revolver to-day." 
 
 Turner thrust a revolver into Frank's hand. 
 
 "Take this; keep it out of sight. You may need it 
 later on." 
 
 "Why? What have you heard? What makes you 
 think I may need a revolver?" 
 
 "I heard something when I hurried into the stable tc 
 warn those fellows about monkeying with my wagon 
 Two of the cowboys were talking together. What ] 
 did hear was enough to make me think we might find 
 ourselves in serious trouble to-night. We mustn't talk 
 too much ; might be heard. It was unlucky for you when 
 you fell in with me. I am suspected." ,. 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 "Of being an enemy of the train-wreckers. 'Sh! 
 You're a level-headed boy, or I would not trust you as 
 much as I have. Look out for yourself. We may find 
 ourselves in the midst of a pack of tigers before long. 
 Don't say a word to the Dutch boy ; he's too thick. Now 
 get back. Some one may be looking for us now. Be
 
 A Ranch Dance. 
 
 cautious. If we get in a tight corner, we must stand to 
 gether." 
 
 "Depend on me." 
 
 "Good!" 
 
 Turner Side strolled round the ranch, and Frank re- 
 turned to the veranda. 
 
 The interior of the house was illuminated with many 
 tallow candles. The visitors were talking and laughing, 
 the coarse voices of the men mingling with the smoother 
 voices of the women and girls. 
 
 Some of the girls were pretty, in a rough way, some 
 were bashful, and some were boisterous. 
 
 Somehow Hans had taken a fancy that he was good- 
 looking, and he was doing his best to make a hit with the 
 girls. Frank found him the center of a laughing party, 
 all of whom were having sport at his expense, although 
 he had an idea that they were laughing at his bright re- 
 marks. Seeing Frank, the Dutch lad called: 
 
 "Gone avay from here, Vrankie; you don'd cut some 
 ice ven I vos aroundt." 
 
 Edna Robinson quickly left the group and approached 
 Frank, to whom she said : 
 
 "Permit me to introduce you, Mr. Merriwell. You 
 may find a pretty girl in the party." 
 
 "I found one before the party came," returned Frank, 
 in a tone that brought the color to her cheeks. "It is not 
 possible to find a prettier one now." 
 
 "You are a flatterer !" she murmured, with her eyes on 
 the floor. 
 
 "Not at all; I am a second edition of the immortal 
 George I can tell nothing but the truth." 
 
 She introduced him all round, and Frank set about 
 making himself as agreeable as possible. 
 
 Robinson came up and slapped him on the shoulder 
 with good-natured familiarity. 
 
 "That's right, young man ; hoe right in. Ther music 
 is goin' ter start up in a minute, an' you want ter cap- 
 ture ther purtiest gal for ther fust dance." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Robinson." 
 
 The musicians began to tune up. The cowboys and 
 ranchers were impatient for the dance to begin. 
 
 Frank looked around for Robinson's daughter, and
 
 A Ranch Dance. 179 
 
 found her talking with a rather dandified, dark-faced, 
 black-eyed fellow. 
 
 "Wonder if he is asking her to dance with him ?" specu- 
 lated the boy. "I meant to be ahead of all comers." 
 
 He slowly approached them, and Edna saw him, imme- 
 diately saying: 
 
 "Oh, you want a partner, Mr. Merriwell. I will get 
 one for you. Excuse me, Jack." 
 
 The young fellow with whom she had been talking 
 scowled blackly at Frank, as the girl skipped away and 
 took the boy's arm, asking: 
 
 "Whom have you chosen as the one you most desire 
 for your first partner?" 
 
 "You," he replied, softly. 
 
 "Me?" 
 
 She seemed greatly surprised. 
 
 "Yes. I sincerely hope you are not engaged for the 
 first dance?" 
 
 "Well, no not exactly. I suppose Darrol expects .me 
 to dance with him. He's the one I was talking with just 
 now. I don't like him too well; but pop thinks he's all 
 right, and Darrol bothers me to death. Everybody thinks 
 I'm going to tie to him; but I reckon they'll find out 
 they're mistaken." 
 
 She tossed her head, and looked prettier than ever. 
 
 "By jingoes ! she has spirit and nerve !" thought Frank. 
 "She is something like a young panther." 
 
 Aioud, he said : 
 
 "Give me the first dance ; let Darrol take his turn later." 
 
 "All right, it's a go. Jack may be mad, but he ain't 
 got any rope on me, and I want him to understand it." 
 
 The music struck up, and the couples began to form on 
 for the first dance. It happened that Frank and Edna 
 were at the head of the first set. Frank saw Jack Darrol 
 approaching in a hurry, his face black as a thundercloud. 
 
 "Look here, Miss Robinson," said Darrol, "this is our 
 dance." 
 
 The girl pretended to be very much surprised. 
 
 "Ours ! I reckon not. You didn't ask me." 
 
 "I didn't; but you knew. You always dance the first 
 dance with me. Come."
 
 i8o A Ranch Dance. 
 
 "Not this time, Jack. I'm on the floor, and I can't 
 leave my partner. I'll dance next time with you." 
 
 "To blazes with the next dance ! I want this one, and 
 I'm going to have it !" 
 
 Then she showed her spirit; her head went back, and 
 her eyes blazed upon him. 
 
 "You have made a mistake, Mr. Darrol; I shall not 
 dance this set with you, nor will I dance with you at all, 
 unless you are more respectful in your language !" 
 
 He ground his white teeth. 
 
 "All right ! Dance away ! You'll be sorry for it, and 
 so will that kid tenderfoot you've cottoned to! He may 
 be taken sick before morning !"
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 MORE TROUBLE. 
 
 The look which Jack Darrol shot at Frank Merriwell 
 betrayed the murderous hate gnawing at the man's heart. 
 
 Just the faintest trace of a contemptuous smile flittered 
 across the boy's face. 
 
 Darrol walked away, and the hand of Edna Robinson 
 fell on the arm of her partner, while she whispered : 
 
 "I oughtn't to have done so! He is dangerous is 
 Jack. I didn't think what kind of a quarrel I might get 
 you into, Mr. Merriwell." 
 
 "Don't worry about me," said Frank, quietly. "I can 
 take care of myself." 
 
 "Ah, but you don't know Jack Darrol. He has a fear- 
 ful temper, and he is handy with gun or knife." 
 
 "I'll keep my eyes open for him." 
 
 "That's right, keep your eyes peeled. If he tries to 
 jump on you, holler for help. There goes the music !" 
 
 The dance had begun. 
 
 The music was rather lively, and the dance started off 
 with a whoop from the cowboys, who soon kicked up the 
 dust out of the floor with their heavy boots so that the 
 entire party fell to coughing. It was a wild "hoe in" 
 affair such as Frank Merriwell had heard about, but never 
 dreamed of taking part in. The foreman of the ranch, 
 who had been "irrigating" freely from the jug of "strong 
 water" which was kept in an adjoining room, stood up on 
 a chair and roared: 
 
 "Dance thar, you fellers, or you'll git ther gout !" 
 
 Edna Robinson was the best girl dancer in the room, 
 and Frank entered into the spirit of the dance most 
 heartily. 
 
 The jug of "strong water" had been freely drawn on 
 by the majority of the guests, so that every one seemed 
 to feel like dancing. 
 
 At the expiration of the first dance, Edna whispered 
 to Frank:
 
 1 82 More Trouble. 
 
 "Remember to be on your guard against Jack Darrol. I 
 like you, and I don't want to see you carved just because 
 you took a shine to me." 
 
 Frank thanked her, and they separated. He took a. 
 fancy to watch the next dance, and he wandered into the 
 room where a hilarious party was gathered round the jug. 
 
 Darrol was there, and he was talking in a corner with 
 a big, ugly looking ruffian. They were speaking in a low 
 tone, and they saw Frank enter the room. 
 
 Almost immediately Darrol left the big man and ap- 
 proached the boy, saying: 
 
 "You worked it slick, tenderfoot, and scooped my gal. 
 That's one on me. Let's take a drink together and talk 
 it over." 
 
 "I am willing to talk," said Frank, pleasantly; "but I 
 beg you to excuse me from drinking, as I never touch 
 liquor." 
 
 "Get out!" cried Darrol, with an attempt at good-na- 
 tured bluffness. "That won't go down here. You may 
 not drink in the East; but everybody drinks out here. 
 Eh, boys?" 
 
 "That's right," chorused the gathering. 
 
 "So now, come on," said Darrol, dropping a hand on 
 Frank's arm. "It is a personal insult to refuse to drink 
 when asked it's an insult to me and to Lije Robinson, 
 who provides the stuff." 
 
 "I am sorry ; I assure you I mean no insult to anybody, 
 but I never touch liquor, and I cannot do so now." 
 
 Frank regretted that he had entered the room, but now 
 that he was there, the only possible course seemed to be 
 to keep a stiff back, and face the affair through to the end. 
 He knew well enough that Darrol meant to force a quar- 
 rel, and he did not mean to be taken at an advantage. 
 
 Darrol's teeth came together with a click. 
 
 "You must drink!" 
 
 "You cannot force me to do so." 
 
 "You're a baby! Men drink whisky; babies drink 
 milk. Boys, who'll bring the baby-boy some milk?" 
 
 The hot blood rushed to Frank's cheeks, but he held 
 himself in check. 
 
 Darrol's scornful words had caused the big ruffian to 
 roar with laughter, and the boy looked sharply at the
 
 More Trouble. 183 
 
 man. The giant's hands were resting on his hips, and, 
 in a moment, Frank noted that the little finger of the 
 left hand was missing! 
 
 That discovery came near staggering Frank, for he 
 remembered that the giant among the train-wreckers had 
 lost the little finger of his left hand. 
 
 The big fellow spoke : 
 
 "Reg'ler cow's milk might be too strong for the kid; 
 he must take it watered." 
 
 The voice was that of the masked giant, and Frank 
 knew this man had been with the train-wreckers. Such 
 being the case, it was possible Jack Darrol was one of the 
 band. Besides those two, there might be many more of 
 the wreckers present at the dance. 
 
 Frank began to feel that his situation was far from 
 pleasant, as it was possible those men would suspect him 
 of being a spy. At any rate, if Darrol belonged to the 
 band, he would stand little show of receiving square 
 treatment. 
 
 Frank backed up against the wall, not wishing to be 
 caught from behind. 
 
 "Boys," cried Darrol, "hold the jug, an' I'll lead the 
 kid to it." 
 
 "All right," laughed the giant ; "bring ther babby up." 
 
 "If you touch me, you will be damaged," said the boy, 
 very calmly. 
 
 Darrol laughed derisively, and attempted to grasp 
 Frank's arm, when 
 
 Spat! a hard fist struck the young ruffian fairly be- 
 tween the eyes, driven with all the strength of Frank's 
 muscular arm. 
 
 The promptness with which the calm lad knocked Jack 
 Darrol down brought exclamations of amazement from 
 the men in that room. 
 
 "What's this?" roared the giant, in amazement. "The 
 kid has hit Jack with a club!" 
 
 "Nary club," declared another, who was no less as- 
 tonished. "He done it with his little fist !" 
 
 "But but he knocked Jack down!" 
 
 "Sure pop." 
 
 "It wuz an accident it sure wuz an accident. No kid 
 like this could do that job."
 
 1 84 
 
 More Trouble. 
 
 "Waal," growled the big ruffian, "I reckon I'll have 
 ter spank ther babby fer that." 
 
 He took a step toward Frank, but Jack Darrol sat up, 
 sharply, crying: 
 
 "Hayer, you! don't be interfering with my meat! I 
 can look out for myself; let the tenderfoot alone." 
 
 "All right, Jack, if yer say so; but this yar tenderfoot 
 seems ter be mighty lively." 
 
 "I'll make him lively !" snarled the young ruffian, as he 
 got upon his feet, his black eyes fixed menacingly on 
 Frank. "Boy, there's going to be a funeral to-morrow, 
 and you'll provide the corpse !" 
 
 "You alarm me," smiled Frank, his manner seeming 
 to indicate that he was quite cool and unconcerned. 
 "This is the first time I have heard that such an event 
 is to take place." 
 
 "Oh, it is?" 
 
 "That's what I said." 
 
 "Well, you hear it now, and you hear it straight. No 
 man ever struck me like that and got away with a whole 
 skin; much less, a kid." 
 
 Slipping his feet forward slowly, Jack Darrol began 
 advancing inch by inch toward the boy. Frank flung up 
 one hand, crying: 
 
 "Stop, Jack Darrol ! If you crowd me, you will be the 
 one to get hurt!" 
 
 This brought a roar of laughter from the ruffianly 
 gang, for there was not one present who did not think 
 Frank had succeeded purely by accident in knocking Dar- 
 rol off his feet. That there was the least chance for such 
 a thing to be repeated they did not dream. 
 
 Darrol did not laugh, nor did he pause. He continued 
 to advance on the lad, and his manner of doing so was so 
 snaky that it gave Frank a chill. 
 
 Of a sudden, Darrol's hand disappeared into his bosom, 
 appeared again, and in his fingers glittered a knife. Not 
 a word came from his lips, but he hurled himself forward, 
 striking straight at Frank Merriwell's heart. 
 
 It was the first time in his life that Frank had faced 
 peril of such a nature, and he retained his presence of 
 mind in a most marvelous manner. 
 
 Swift as were Darrol's movements, Merriwell moved
 
 More Trouble. 185 
 
 still more swiftly. Like a cat, he leaped aside, and the 
 blade of the knife in Jack Darrol's hand was driven into 
 the wall. Like a cat, Frank went under his assailant's 
 arm, caught Darrol by the collar, stooped with a twisting 
 movement, and flinging the fellow over his back, sent him 
 whirling right across the room. 
 
 It was a wrestling trick Frank had studied, and, in 
 this case, he had exerted every pound of strength he pos- 
 sessed. The result amazed all who witnessed the feat. 
 
 Darrol spun and slid across the room, and his head 
 struck the wall with such force that he fell back and lay 
 quivering on the floor. 
 
 For a moment an awed hush came over the ruffians 
 who had seen this wonderful feat; then the silence was 
 broken by a roar of astonishment and anger. 
 
 Out came revolvers, and bang, bang, bang, out went 
 the lights, the lighted wicks being cut by the bullets. 
 
 Quick as thought, Frank flung himself flat upon the 
 floor, and a dozen bullets passed over his body and lodged 
 in the wall.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 FRANK OVERHEARS A PLOT. 
 
 Up to the moment Jack Darrol drew the knife Frank 
 had not realized the full extent of his danger. Now he 
 knew that every man in that room stood in with Darrol, 
 and, more than that, was ready to shoot in a manner that 
 was decidedly dangerous. 
 
 Having dropped to the floor when the lights were ex- 
 tinguished, he escaped harm. 
 
 For all of his fortune thus far, he felt that he was 
 still in a bad scrape, and he instantly resolved to get out 
 of the room with the least delay possible. 
 
 "The door will be guarded," was his thought. "I must 
 escape by the window." 
 
 He had located the window before the lights were shot 
 out, and he made for it the instant he could leap to his 
 feet. 
 
 By good fortune, he made no mistake. But the win- 
 dow was closed, and it did not open to his touch. 
 
 Frank backed off a few steps, preparing to hurl him- 
 self headlong through the window, for he was v ready to 
 accept a few gashes from broken glass if he could get 
 away without further damage. 
 
 Just as he was on the point of making a leap he felt 
 himself grasped by the hands of some unseen person. 
 
 Finding he could not break away, the desperate boy 
 turned and grappled with his assailant. 
 
 Not a word passed between them, but the man quickly 
 found he had more than his match. 
 
 With an outlay of strength that astonished himself, 
 Frank broke the man's hold, lifted him from his feet and 
 fairly hurled him through the window. 
 
 In another moment the lad had followed the man 
 through the opening, striking on his feet, and he lost not 
 a moment in slipping away from that locality. 
 
 Round the corner of the house he went, and there he 
 paused in the darkness, muttering:
 
 Frank Overhears a Plot. 187 
 
 "That was a decidedly close shave, and I don't care 
 about getting into that kind of a scrape again. It is 
 rather unhealthy round here, and I feel like moving on 
 without delay." 
 
 Barely had these words left his lips when he felt him- 
 self clutched once more, and his first thought was that 
 he had been followed by the man whom he had cast 
 through the window ; but he was amazed to hear a famil- 
 iar voice say: 
 
 "So you've struck fast company, have you, Frank Mer- 
 riwell? Well, you are a rising young man, and it may 
 be hard work to down you. Now, I am a fellow who 
 never had an opportunity to rise unless it happened to 
 be on the toe of somebody's boot." 
 
 "Hard Pill!" exclaimed Frank. "You you here?" 
 
 "I guess yes." 
 
 "Why why, how " 
 
 "Now don't go to asking too many questions," cau- 
 tioned the tramp, for it was indeed Harden Pillsbury. 
 "I am here about my business seeking an opportunity." 
 
 "An opportunity for what?" 
 
 " 'Sh ! Keep your voice down. Are you aware that 
 you have dropped into a nest of very bad birds?" 
 
 "I had begun to suspect it." 
 
 "Um yes. Well, it is not healthy round these parts, 
 and it will be a good thing for you to move right up and 
 get away from here soon as possible." 
 
 "I think you're right." 
 
 "I know I am. Now I have some horses out here a 
 short distance. Never mind how they came there. I ob- 
 ject to answering so manv questions. They're there. I 
 want you to watch 'em, while I gather in that Dutch boy. 
 You stick to me, and you'll come out of this with a whole 
 skin; but I don't allow you'll be that lucky if you at- 
 tempt to go it alone." 
 
 Frank did not know just why, but he placed a large 
 amount of confidence in Hard Pill, wretched tramp and 
 vagrant though the fellow was; and he permitted him- 
 self to be led away by the man, although fully aware 
 that he was taking many chances by so doing. 
 
 They proceeded some little distance into the darkness, 
 and then they came to a hollow where three horses were
 
 1 88 Frank Overhears a Plot. 
 
 huddled. Hard Pill quieted the animals by speaking to 
 them in a low tone, and the lad noticed that the voice of 
 this miserable tramp was musical and soothing. 
 
 "Stay right here till I come back," advised the man. 
 "Keep close to the horses." 
 
 And then, before Frank could say anything more. 
 Hard Pill slipped away into the darkness. 
 
 There had been considerable excitement about the 
 ranch, but it was subsiding, although Frank had no 
 doubt but a search was being made for him at that mo- 
 ment. 
 
 The music had started up again, and he could hear the 
 cowboys whooping with delight as they capered about. 
 
 It was all very wild and strange to Frank, and he won- 
 dered if he were not dreaming. 
 
 What had become of Hans and Turner Side? 
 
 He began to feel as if he had deserted the Dutch lad 
 in a time of danger, and that thought made him very un- 
 easy and restless. 
 
 Then, when he came to think of it all, Hard Pill had 
 acted queerly. He had declined to answer questions, and 
 he had seemed to talk and appear differently from his 
 manner at the time when Frank had first seen him. 
 
 "There's something about that fellow that isn't just 
 as it shows on the surface," thought the boy. "He did 
 not question me as to how I came here, and he would not 
 allow me to question him." 
 
 Frank's uneasiness increased. Perhaps, after all, 
 Hard Pill was not to be trusted. 
 
 Then came a thought that fairly staggered the boy. 
 
 "How should a tramp have three horses? If he did 
 not steal them, it is possible he contemplates doing so. 
 Or it is possible I have let him lead me into a trap. If 
 I were found here with these horses, I should be taken 
 for a horse thief, and they make short work of horse 
 thieves out in this country." 
 
 It did not take Frank long to decide that he would 
 look after Hans himself. He could see no reason why 
 a common tramp should take so much interest in them, 
 and he was not going to trust everything to Hard Pill. 
 
 Having arrived at a belief that it was not best to trust 
 the tramp too far, it was not long before Frank slipped
 
 Frank Overhears a Plot. 189 
 
 away from the horses, and he breathed easier when he 
 was at a safe distance in the darkness. 
 
 "Now," he muttered, "I must approach the house 
 without being seen. I'll slip round behind the nearest 
 corral." 
 
 This he soon did, but, as he was stealing round the 
 corral, he was brought to a sudden halt by the sound of 
 voices close at hand the voices of men talking in a 
 low tone in the darkness. 
 
 Slowly and cautiously Frank crept forward, and he 
 Mas soon able to make out that a little knot of men had 
 gathered there in the darkness, and the manner in which 
 they were speaking seemed to indicate they did not wish 
 to be overheard. 
 
 The boy's curiosity was thoroughly aroused, and he 
 resolved to hear what the men were saying, if possible. 
 
 Lying flat upon the ground, he wormed his way for- 
 ward, and he did not stop till he was near enough to 
 overhear and understand their talk. 
 
 The first words he heard were spoken by the big man 
 who had been so ready to back Jack Darrol a short time 
 before. This man, whom Frank firmly believed was one 
 of the train-wreckers, was saying: 
 
 "That boy is altogether too smart for an innercent kid 
 you hear me. He didn't come hyar for the fun of it, 
 you bet; an' I think we hadn't oughter rest till he's 
 found." 
 
 "Oh, let the kid go, Hank !" said another voice, which 
 Frank instantly recognized as being that of the leader 
 of the train-wreckers. "He's liable to come back to 
 the ranch, and then somebody'll take care of him." 
 
 "Darrol is the man to do that." 
 
 "Wa-al, I dunno," put in a third person. From what 
 we saw, ther boy is altogether too swift fer Darrol." 
 
 "Next time it will be different. But the chances are 
 that the boy was so badly scared that he hasn't stopped 
 running yet, and I do not think he will be found." 
 
 "You're makin' a mistake in that boy," declared the 
 voice of the giant. "To begin with, he ain't as young 
 as he looks not by a blamed sight ; and you'd all oughter 
 know he ain't as innercent as he appeared. I wouldn't
 
 190 Frank Overhears a Plot. 
 
 be surprised if he turned out to be Jarvis Jackson, the 
 detective who had sworn to break us up." 
 
 "Oh, he ain't Jackson ! Such a thing is impossible." 
 
 "Mebbe so; mebbe not." 
 
 "Well, Jackson or not, we're to throw the east-bound 
 Pacific express just the same, eh?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 Now the boy in the grass listened with the most in- 
 tense eagerness. 
 
 "It's a daring scheme, cap; right on top of our failure 
 with the Overland Flyer." 
 
 "That is why I believe in doing it at once. In every 
 other instance we have waited some time, and then had 
 made a big jump from one place to another. We won't 
 be expected to repeat the trick on the same track in a little 
 more than twenty-four hours." 
 
 "That's right." 
 
 "Of course it's right." 
 
 "Well, what you say goes." 
 
 "Then be at White Gap to-morrow night at the time 
 set, and we will carry out the work. We can dump the 
 express into Sandy Creek, and we'll do the job under 
 cover of darkness, too." 
 
 "All right, cap, we'll be on hand." 
 
 Frank hugged the ground, his heart pounding in his 
 bosom, for he had overheard a plot to wreck another 
 train, and he knew that he, and he alone, might be able 
 to save that train. If he were discovered, he would not 
 only lose his own life, but the lives of many on the ex- 
 press would be sacrificed. 
 
 The boy was horrified by the cold-blooded manner in 
 which the desperadoes had talked of hurling the express 
 from the track into Sandy Creek. 
 
 "They are monsters !" he mentally exclaimed. "If I 
 am discovered by those ruffians, it will mean sure death !" 
 
 He was about to begin creeping away, but he suddenly 
 realized that it was too late. The little party of plotters 
 was breaking up and separating. 
 
 Then Frank caught his breath and hugged the ground, 
 for one of the men was coming that way.
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 IN THE HERDERS' HUT. 
 
 Frank lay close and still upon the ground, and the man 
 passed within reach of the boy's arm. Frank did not 
 venture to stir till the sound of footsteps had died out. 
 
 "To-morrow night at White Gap," thought Frank. 
 
 "I ought to be able to save that train I must do so ! 
 
 More I should be able to trap those ruffians in some 
 way. I must trust to myself I must depend on myself. 
 How can I get there? Those horses I can take one of 
 them must do so. I must run my chances of being 
 taken for a horse thief." 
 
 He was on his feet and ready for the move, when he 
 suddenly exclaimed: 
 
 "Hans !" 
 
 He could not desert the Dutch boy; Hans must be 
 found and taken along. 
 
 With great caution, he passed round the corral and 
 approached the house, from which came the sounds of 
 hilarious revelry. In a few moments he obtained a po- 
 sition where he could look in by a window, and he saw 
 Hans wildly prancing around in the midst of the dancers. 
 
 It was evident the Dutch boy was having a very good 
 time, and Frank was relieved to see that his friend had 
 not been harmed. 
 
 "Ten to one he doesn't know anything about my close 
 call. If he did, he'd not be there. He has stuck by the 
 girls so closely that the ruffians have not had a good 
 opportunity to down him, if they contemplate doing so. 
 He is quite unaware of his danger. How in the world 
 am I going to get him out of that? It will not do for 
 me to go in there, and " 
 
 He broke off abruptly, for the ranch door opened, and 
 a girl came out. For a moment the light behind her re- 
 vealed her distinctly. It was Edna Robinson. 
 
 "Why is she coming out here?" thought Frank. "If
 
 192 In the Herders' Hut. 
 
 she will get away from that door, I can By Jingoes ! 
 
 she is going!" 
 
 Edna came down the veranda, and passed round the 
 corner of the house. 
 
 Frank lost no time in following. 
 
 "Miss Robinson," he called, in a low tone. 
 
 She was a short distance ahead of him, and he saw 
 her pause and turn, uttering a low cry. In a moment 
 he was beside her, saying, swiftly, in a guarded manner: 
 
 "This is a great piece of fortune ! How did you hap- 
 pen to come out here?" 
 
 "I came to look for you," she replied. 
 
 "For me?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "How did you happen to do so?" 
 
 "I heard Bud Hayes and Mike Grady talking. They 
 did not know I was listening. We all thought the shoot- 
 ing and the smashing of the window was a little fun- 
 that is, we thought so at first. After a while I missed 
 you. And then I found Jack had a black eye. I began 
 to suspect you had gone into that room and found trou- 
 ble; but I couldn't find out a thing till I heard Hayes 
 and Grady talking it over. They said you hit Jack in 
 the eye and then threw him against the wall and stunned 
 him when he tried to stab you. How could you do it? 
 Why, you are only a boy, and Jack Darrol is a tiger to 
 fight." 
 
 "I don't know how I did it," said Frank, modestly. "I 
 found I was cornered and must do something, so I waded 
 in." 
 
 "Now they think you're a detective, or something; but 
 I don't believe it. You're not a detective, are you?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I knew it; but Hayes was sure you could not be as 
 young as you look." 
 
 "I am younger, as I am large for my age." 
 
 "Well, you are certainly the most wonderful boy I ever 
 knew ; but you must not go back there. There are some 
 ugly men in there, and you could not get off so well, 
 again. Father could not protect you, even though you 
 are his guest. I did not expect to find you; but now
 
 In the Herders' Hut. 193 
 
 thar I have, I will tell you that you must go away from 
 here at once." 
 
 "I am quite ready to go," half laughed the boy. "But 
 it is not so easy getting away." 
 
 "I will provide a horse for you. I own two horses 
 of my own, and you shall have one of them." 
 
 "But I cannot go away and leave Hans Dunnerwust." 
 "Of course not ! I thought of you alone." 
 The way she spoke the words made the boy fear she 
 was about to make an open declaration of affection for 
 him, but if she felt such an impulse, she restrained it. 
 
 "Dunnerwust shall have my other horse," she declared. 
 "Strike straight for the railroad, which is to the south. 
 The clouds are beginning to break away without so much 
 as a drop of rain, for all of Professor Side's efforts, of 
 which he has been telling the company. The stars will 
 guide you. From the wire fence to the railroad is but a 
 short distance two or three miles. When you reach 
 the track, turn to the west, and you will come to a station 
 within eight or ten miles. There you can flag the first 
 train, and take my advice, get out of this part of the 
 country as soon as you can. We may never meet again, 
 but you are the boy who downed Jack Darrol, and I 
 shall not forget you." 
 
 "Nor shall I forget you," assured Frank. "You have 
 done me a great service. How can I pay the debt I 
 shall owe you ?" 
 
 He saw her head droop, and her words were a mere 
 murmur, as she said : 
 
 "Pay me? I don't know. Do you want to pay me?'* 
 
 "To be sure I do." 
 
 In a moment she stepped close to him, and swiftly 
 whispered : 
 
 "I don't care if it is bold I don't care what you think! 
 We'll never see each other again. Then kiss me kisS 
 me good-by!" 
 
 Frank hesitated in his surprise. To be sure this girl 
 was not like other girls he had met; but he knew from 
 her speech and her manner that she had not lived all 
 her life on a ranch. She admired him, but still she looked 
 on him as a boy, younger than herself, and she asked a
 
 194 In the Herders' Hut. 
 
 kiss in return for what she had offered to do for him 
 for saving his life, perhaps. 
 
 He felt the blood burning in his cheeks, and then, just 
 as his hand touched hers, she started away, exclaiming: 
 
 "No! I see you do think I am bold too bold. Per- 
 haps I am. Good-by!" 
 
 Before he could detain her, she darted away, leaving 
 the boy troubled with confusion and regret. 
 
 "It is her way," he murmured. "She has befriended 
 me; I should not have hesitated, and now " 
 
 "Now I'll fix you!" 
 
 He distinctly heard the words recognized the voice 
 and then it seemed that the very heavens fell crashing 
 upon his defenseless head. 
 
 Jack Darrol had followed the girl, and he had seen 
 them meet. Consumed by jealousy, he crept swiftly up 
 behind Frank, and the butt of a heavy revolver struck 
 the boy senseless to the ground. 
 
 With the return of consciousness, Frank became aware 
 that two men were quarreling near at hand. He started 
 to sit up, and then he discovered that he was bound se- 
 curely. 
 
 "He is a spy. How can you doubt it. He must be 
 put out of the way." 
 
 It was Darrol's voice. 
 
 "You're away off, Darrol," declared the voice of the 
 other man, and the unfortunate lad recognized it as that 
 of Lije Robinson, the rancher. "This yar boy is no spy, 
 and I don't propose ter have him murdered on my ranch. 
 You hear me shout !" 
 
 "I wish I had finished him, instead of bringing him 
 here ! I'd done it, too, if you hadn't made such a fuss 
 about having him wiped out round the house." 
 
 "You're altogether too ready ter do dirty work. That's 
 why Edna has soured on you." 
 
 "And she has taken a fancy to a baby, like this young- 
 ster!" 
 
 "It's a mighty lively babby this youngster is, as your 
 eye shows. You're jealous of him, Jack, an' that's what's 
 ther matter with you." 
 
 "If the whole gang is roped in you'll be to blame for 
 it."
 
 In the Herders' Hut. 195 
 
 "I'll take ther chances. I promised my little gal that 
 I'd see this yar kid had a squar' deal, an' I'm goin' ter 
 do it, you bet I" 
 
 "Well, are you goin' to set him free, and let him run ?" 
 
 "Not yet. I'm goin' ter keep him hyar a while, till I 
 am sure he ain't a spy." 
 
 "Then what?" 
 
 "I may set him free." 
 
 Darrol growled in his throat, like an enraged beast. 
 
 "Why, don't you take him home, and marry him to 
 your daughter. She's in love with the babv. and 
 she " 
 
 "Stop stop right thar, Jack Darrol! It won't be 
 healthy fer you ef you slur my little gal ! She's as good 
 a gal as ever drew a breath; an' she ain't got no reason 
 ter be proud of her father. Ef she knew ther whole 
 truth, I'd never dare look her in ther eyes again ; an' I'm 
 afraid she suspects a heap." 
 
 "You're getting soft, Rob !" 
 
 "Wa-al, I'm sorry fer the day I ever fell in with this 
 yar gang, an' I'd like ter begin life over; but it's too 
 late, an' I can't turn back. Some day Edna'll know her 
 old dad fer jest what he is, an' then wa'al, life won't 
 be worth much arter that !" 
 
 Frank felt a sudden sympathy for Robinson, as it was 
 evident the man was not wholly bad. He had fallen into 
 evil ways, and had been led on by evil companions, but 
 he was inclined to be remorseful. 
 
 Darrol laughed harshly. 
 
 "You make me sick! You'd better go join the 
 church !" 
 
 "That's all right, Jack ; you ain't got a gal o' your own 
 as loves yer, an' so you don't know." 
 
 "Drop that! It's this kid we were talking about. 
 So you're bound to keep him here?" 
 
 "For a while." 
 
 "There may be a search for him." 
 
 "Wa-al, they won't be likely to find him in this old 
 herders' hut."' 
 
 "He may get away." 
 
 "Not with Manuel watchin' him."
 
 196 
 
 In the Herders' Hut. 
 
 "Then you're goin' to leave Manuel to guard him?" 
 cried Darrol, eagerly. 
 
 "I am ; an' I'm goin' ter tell ther greaser that ther boy 
 ain't ter be hurt. I'll fix it so you can't get back hyar 
 an knife ther lad, you bet ! You thought o' doin' that 
 I saw it. Wa-al, you can't work ther trick, Jack." 
 
 "Bah ! You're a fool !" 
 
 "I may be ; but I kin read you." 
 
 " 'Sh ! The boy moved he's coming round. We'd 
 better get out." 
 
 "That's right. Come on." 
 
 They hurriedly left the hut. 
 
 "This is what I call a mighty bad scrape," thought 
 Frank, as he strained at his bonds. The chances are 
 against me, for Darrol means to murder me in the end. 
 I have been getting in deeper and deeper, and it looks 
 as if I had got in so far that there is no getting out. 
 These rawhide ropes, they cut into my wrists, but I can- 
 not loosen them. So I am to be left to the care of a 
 greaser. Ten to one, Darrol will slip back here, fill the 
 greaser with liquor, and then finish me. Frank Merri- 
 well, you have been in many tight places, but this looks 
 about as bad as any of them." 
 
 His head was throbbing with the pain of the blow he 
 had received, but he did not think of that. 
 
 In vain he tried to free his hands; the work of bind- 
 ing him had been well done. 
 
 In a few moments the door of the hut opened, and a 
 villainous-looking Mexican entered. 
 
 Frank tried to talk with the fellow, but the Mexican 
 would make no reply to his questions. Squatting in a 
 corner, the fellow rolled and lighted cigarette after 
 cigarette, smoking in stony silence. 
 
 The hours passed, and Frank was sure another day 
 had dawned, although it was dark and gloomy within the 
 hut, which was lighted by a single candle. The burn- 
 ing of the candle told him the flight of time. It burnedl 
 itself out, and another was lighted by the Mexican. 
 
 At length, utterly worn out and exhausted, although 
 aching in every limb, the captive boy slept. 
 
 When Frank awoke it was with a feeling of hunger 
 seeming to gnaw at the pit of his stomach. The old
 
 In the Herders' Hut. 197 
 
 Mexican was still squatting in the corner and the boy 
 believed the fellow asleep ; but the instant Frank stirred, 
 Manuel was on the alert. 
 
 "Say," Frank called, "am I to be starved to death?" 
 
 Without a word, the Mexican arose and brought some 
 coarse bread and water to the captive. 
 
 Placing the bread and water on the ground, the guard 
 cut the bonds that held the boy's hands ; but as Frank was 
 ready to fling himself at Manuel, a revolver appeared in 
 the fellow's hand, and it was pointed straight at the lad's 
 head. 
 
 Frank ate in silence, and he was forced to submit him- 
 self to be bound again when he had satisfied his hunger. 
 
 Then came other wretched hours, and the boy began 
 to long for something to happen. 
 
 He thought of the plot to wreck the Pacific express, 
 and a groan was forced from his lips when he contem- 
 plated his inability to prevent the consummation of the 
 nefarious scheme. 
 
 Another night must be at hand. In a short time the 
 train would be derailed, and many of the passengers 
 must be hurled into eternity. 
 
 What was that? Frank listened, and he was sure he 
 could hear the thud-thud of horses' feet. The sound 
 came nearer and nearer ; it stopped close to the hut. 
 
 Manuel arose, his hand resting on a weapon. 
 
 Then the door of the hut was flung open, and in the 
 doorway appeared Edna Robinson, the rancher's daugh- 
 ter!
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 EDNA. 
 
 "Found!" 
 
 The word fell from the girl's lips as her eyes rested 
 on Frank. 
 
 The youth gave an exclamation of relief and satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 Manuel seemed to hesitate. 
 
 Suddenly the girl whirled toward the Mexican, and a 
 revolver appeared in her hand. It was pointed straight 
 at Manuel's head. 
 
 "Throw down your weapons!" she cried. "Throw 
 them down! You know me, and you know I can shoot. 
 If you do not obey me I will shoot you !" 
 
 There could be no doubt but that she was in deadly ear- 
 nest, and with a muttered ejaculation in Spanish, the 
 Mexican cast his weapons on the dirt floor at his feet. 
 She made him thus dispose of every one of them, then 
 she made him hold his hands above his head, face about, 
 and walk up against the wall. 
 
 Quickly catching up Manuel's knife, the girl lost not 
 a moment in setting Frank free. 
 
 "This makes the debt larger than it was before," he 
 said. "I cannot " 
 
 "Don't spend time in talk," she cut in. "We have 
 no time to lose. I knew they had taken you somewhere, 
 but it was no easy task finding you. You must not fall 
 into their hands again. Here, take these cords, bind 
 that greaser's hands, and make them secure. He must 
 be trussed up so he cannot wiggle till some one sets him 
 free." 
 
 Frank followed her directions in everything, and it 
 was not long before Manuel was lying on the floor, bound 
 so he could scarcely wiggle a finger. 
 
 "That settles him," said the girl. "Now we must be 
 off. Come."
 
 Edna. 199 
 
 He followed her from the hut, and it was with a feel- 
 ing of unutterable thankfulness that he breathed the free 
 air again. 
 
 It was near sunset. Unless he could prevent it, in 
 a few hours the express would be derailed at White Gap. 
 
 There were two horses near at hand, both saddled. 
 
 "I brought an extra horse, hoping I'd find you," ex- 
 plained the girl. "We must strike for the railroad with- 
 out the loss of a moment." 
 
 "But the other boy Hans Dunnerwust ?" 
 
 "He disappeared, together with the rainmaker. Some- 
 body told him you had gone, and he said he wouldn't stop 
 running till he struck Denver. Come, mount." 
 
 She was in the saddle before he could swing up, and 
 soon they were riding away to the south. Few words 
 passed between them, for the girl did not seem inclined 
 to talk. 
 
 The sun sunk from view, and night came on. Still the 
 girl led the way unhesitatingly. When they reached the 
 barbed-wire fence, she dismounted, and it did not take 
 her long to remove the top strand, so they were able to 
 make the horses leap over. 
 
 Then, passing through a broken country, they came to 
 the railroad and to a small station, about which were a 
 collection of rude houses. Edna accompanied Frank to 
 the station. 
 
 It happened that the station agent was on the point of 
 closing. He had been talking with a long, lank, red- 
 headed, trampish-looking man, who turned to leave, and 
 ran full into Frank. 
 
 "Hard Pill !" cried the boy, in surprise. 
 
 "Well, throw me cold !" gasped the tramp. "You have 
 turned up all right! That's a surprise. We gave you 
 up as done for." 
 
 "We? Who?" 
 
 "The rainmaker, the Dutch boy, and myself." 
 
 "Hans and Turner Side ; where are they ?" 
 
 "Here." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Nearby, at the hotel." 
 
 "A hotel in this place?" 
 
 "Well, it is called that ; but it's not exactly first-class."
 
 200 Edna. 
 
 Frank was relieved, but he had no time to ask for a 
 complete explanation. He remembered that there was 
 a plot to wreck the express, and he asked how far it was 
 to White Gap. When he found it was less than ten 
 miles away, he took Hard Pill aside, and said : 
 
 "Look here, I am going to trust you, for it seems that 
 you are square." 
 
 "Appearances may be against me, but I'm a white 
 man," assured the vagabond. 
 
 "Well, I know of a plot to wreck the Pacific express 
 this night, and " 
 
 Hard Pill caught Frank by the shoulder, with a grip 
 of iron, hoarsely hissing: 
 
 "You know of a plot to wreck the express ? Then tell 
 me, boy; tell me!" 
 
 "But you " 
 
 "Look here, I am no tramp; I am Jarvis Jackson, a 
 detective, and I am here to break up this gang of train- 
 wreckers. You can help me, and you shall have the 
 credit for doing so. You are a boy, but you're the smart- 
 est lad I ever struck, and that's why I am ready to give 
 myself away to you. Tell me what you know, and be 
 lively." 
 
 So Frank told the man everything, and he did not 
 waste many words in doing so. 
 
 "Good!" cried the detective. "I will best Wyman 
 Hawes on this job." 
 
 "Who is Wyman Hawes?" 
 
 "Turner Side, the rainmaker. He is a rival detect- 
 ive, and I am dead onto him; I have penetrated his dis- 
 guise. I'll dump fifty men upon the wreckers, at White 
 Gap, and I reckon the gang will be wiped out." 
 
 Jarvis Jackson stopped the station agent as that worthy 
 was leaving, and, ten minutes later, a cipher telegram was 
 being sent to intercept the express a hundred miles west 
 of White Gap. In a remarkably brief space of time he 
 set his trap, as he had been prepared to act swiftly in case 
 it should be required. 
 
 Edna Robinson, forgotten for the time by Frank, had 
 overheard the boy when he told Jackson he knew of a 
 to wreck the express. In a moment she was excited 
 interested, but she had not been able to hear and un-
 
 Edna. 201 
 
 derstand more of the conversation that passed between 
 the lad and the detective. 
 
 As soon as possible, Edna drew Frank aside, and be- 
 gan to question him. 
 
 The boy instantly realized that it would not do to tell 
 her too much, for it was quite likely that Robinson him- 
 self was with the train-wreckers. 
 
 Feeling like an ingrate, sick of the whole business, 
 Frank avoided telling her at what point the wreckers 
 meant to derail the train ; avoided doing so till Hard Pill 
 stepped in and told her a deliberate falsehood. 
 
 Sometime later a little band of horsemen rode out from 
 the town, and made straight for White Gap. 
 
 And they were followed by the girl, who had not been 
 deceived by Hard Pill. 
 
 Frank and Hans were with the party, but Wyman 
 Hawes was left behind. 
 
 Every individual of the party was thoroughly armed. 
 
 Before White Gap was reached the party left the 
 horses behind, proceeding cautiously on foot. 
 
 Jackson did some scouting on his own hook, and suc- 
 ceeded in locating the wreckers, after which he struck the 
 railroad to the west, and fastened two torpedoes to the 
 track. 
 
 When this was arranged, he placed his men so the 
 wreckers were cut off on one side, and then they waited 
 for the express. 
 
 It came on time, and the explosion of the torpedoes 
 gave the warning required. 
 
 The train stopped before the fatal point was reached 
 stopped to allow a band of men to leap off, every man 
 carrying a rifle. 
 
 Then it was that the wreckers sought to take to flight, 
 but found themselves between two fires, as Jackson was 
 ready for the move. 
 
 A short, fierce encounter followed, and the ruffians 
 were overpowered, although they did not surrender till 
 several had been shot down. 
 
 When the captured desperadoes were inspected, Jack 
 Darrol was found among them. He fairly frothed at 
 the mouth, as his eyes rested on Frank. 
 
 "I knevr it!" he grated. "I knew you were a spyj
 
 202 Edna. 
 
 You have worked the trick, as I told Robinson von 
 would.'' 
 
 A hand was on Frank's arm, a pleading voice sounded 
 in his ear. 
 
 "My father where is he? Is he here? Save him 
 help him to escape! Remember what I have done for 
 you!" 
 
 It was Edna Robinson, and the appeal touched the boy's 
 heart. He did not pause to ask how she came there, but 
 he captiously declared : 
 
 "I wi'l save him. if it is possible !" 
 
 Then he found Jackson told him all explained how 
 the capture could not have been effected but for Edna. 
 
 "Now, she asks that her father may be given a show to 
 escape. Can it be done? He saved my life, and 
 now " 
 
 "We'll try it," whispered Jackson. 
 
 Five minutes later there was considerable commotion, 
 for one of the captives broke away and took to his heels, 
 being quickly swallowed in the darkness. Thirty bullets 
 were sent after him, but Lije Robinson escaped unscathed. 
 
 The girl had disappeared, and Frank never saw her 
 again. Nor was Robinson captured. He did not return 
 to his ranch, and Frank believes he is living in some for- 
 eign land, safe from the clutch of the law, and trying to be 
 an honest man. It is probable that Edna is with him. 
 
 The other wreckers who were captured were brought to 
 trial, and all of them received long sentences. As Jack 
 Darrol was shown to be sort of a lieutenant, he was 
 given a sentence equal to that of the chief of the gang. 
 
 Wyman Hawes, the "rainmaker," was thoroughly dis- 
 gusted by Jackson's success ; but Jackson came out fairly, 
 and declared he owed it all to Frank Merriwell, so it was 
 soon known from one end of the country to the other that 
 a boy had been instrumental in breaking up the worst 
 band of train-wreckers ever known. 
 
 Frank and Hans rejoined Professor Scotch in Denver, 
 and the trio continued on their travels, bound for the in- 
 terior of Arizona.
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 A STORY AND A MYSTERY. 
 
 "Veil, Vrankie, vot you sbent so much time dot biece uf 
 baper ofer, ain'd id? Vos dot a lofe letter vot you peen 
 carrying in your bocket aroundt so long id looks like id 
 vos in need repairs uf ?" 
 
 "No, this is not a love letter, Hans." 
 
 "Vot id vos, ain'd id?" 
 
 "It is a chart." 
 
 "Vot vos dot?" 
 
 "A map." 
 
 "Oh, yaw ! You peen sdutying geolografy to seen vere 
 you vos at. Vos id map uf der vorld ?" 
 
 "A very small part of the world. It is a map of a por- 
 tion of the Santa Catarina Mountains, Arizona, where we 
 are now. In fact, I am sure it is a map of this particular 
 locality." 
 
 "Veil, vot you peen so inderested in dot for alretty yet 
 so long?" 
 
 ''Because this map, or chart, should guide me to a piece 
 of property that is of sufficient value to make me the rich- 
 est boy in the world." 
 
 Hans gave a gasp of surprise, and almost fell off his 
 chair to the floor. 
 
 "I don'd toldt you so !" he cried. 
 
 "That is straight," declared Frank. 
 
 "Vot kindt uf broperty ?" 
 
 "Mine." 
 
 "Yaw, I know you say id vos yours; but vot id vos, 
 ain'd id?" 
 
 "Why, a mine a mine !" 
 
 "Oh, yaw, a mine! Und id vas yours, so id vasn't 
 mine. Uf you throw noddings ad me I vill dodge id !" 
 
 Frank laughed. 
 
 The boys were seated in the largest private room, "one 
 floor up," of the New York Hotel, which was located in
 
 2O4 A Story and a Mystery. 
 
 the new mining town of Powder Gap, Santa Catarina 
 Mountains, Arizona. On a rude bed near at hand, Pro- 
 fessor Scotch was taking his regular afternoon nap, snor- 
 ing now and then in a distressing and convulsive manner. 
 
 In the course of their travels, the trio had wandered to 
 this remote mining town, the professor being led to go 
 there through the request of Frank, who had a strange de- 
 sire to visit the place. 
 
 They found it a rude, bustling "camp," consisting of 
 rough slab shanties and canvas tents of all ages, stages of 
 wear, and shades of color. 
 
 It was a wild and picturesque place, situated in a rocky 
 gorge, through which flowed a small stream of water, 
 which, in the rainy season, according to report, swelled to 
 a wide, wild, rushing, roaring river. 
 
 Powder Gap was not a placer-mining town ; it depended 
 entirely on its ore mines, of which the Giant, the first one 
 located, was the richest and employed the most men. 
 Besides the Giant, there were the Queen Bees, the White 
 Lightning, the Big Injun, and the Noble Roman. Of 
 these mines, the Big Injun was said to be the most valu- 
 able, standing second to the Giant, although it was a mere 
 dwarf beside the latter. 
 
 Wallace Coville, a dark-faced man of middle age, was 
 the owner of the Giant. There were streaks of white in 
 Coville's hair, but his lips were very red, his eyes glitter- 
 ing black and restless, and his entire aspect sinewy, alert, 
 pantherish. 
 
 Coville and Carter were the original owners of the 
 Giant, but Jason Carter had disappeared, in a sudden and 
 mysterious manner, and no one seemed to know what had 
 become of him. If any one hinted at foul play, he took 
 care not to speak too openly. 
 
 As little or nothing was known of Carter, who had been 
 a strangely silent and taciturn man, forming no friend- 
 ships and making few acquaintances, his disappearance 
 did not create as much of a sensation as it might under 
 other circumstances. 
 
 After Carter's vanishing, Coville continued to run the 
 mine just the same, and he once publicly stated that he 
 and Carter had formed a chance partnership, that he had 
 known nothing in particular of Carter's past, that he did
 
 A Story and a Mystery. 205 
 
 not know if Carter had a relative living, and that, in case 
 he did have relatives, they could have no claim on the 
 Giant Mine, as there had been an agreement between him- 
 self and Carter when they went into partnership that at 
 the death of either the property should belong wholly and 
 undisputedly to the other. 
 
 He did not state if such an agreement had been made 
 in writing, and there were those who winked and looked 
 wise when they heard of it. 
 
 There were a few who longed to investigate the mys- 
 tery of Jason Carter's disappearance, and one inquisitive 
 individual attempted to do so. 
 
 He also disappeared in a most sudden, silent, and mys- 
 terious manner, and George Bailey had not been seen 
 since in Powder Gap. 
 
 No one else attempted to investigate, and the impres- 
 sion was general that it was not a healthy thing to be too 
 inquisitive concerning the mystery. 
 
 As the town of Powder Gap grew rapidly, and other 
 mines were opened up, the mystery concerning Jason Car- 
 ter was in a great measure forgotten. 
 
 Powder Gap became a typical Southwestern mining 
 camp, wherein all sorts and conditions of people, and al- 
 most all nationalities, could be seen. 
 
 The place contained numerous saloons and gambling 
 joints, two "hotels," of which the New York was far the 
 better, and one theatre and dance hall, which was the pride 
 and boast of the town. 
 
 As yet there was no church in the place, and some of 
 the ruffians declared it would not be a healthy thing for 
 any "praying parson" to enter the limits of Powder Gap. 
 
 Together, Frank and Hans looked over the chart, while 
 Professor Scotch slumbered peacefully on the bed. 
 
 "There," explained Frank, "is Tucson, and here is 
 Oracle." 
 
 "How you know dot?" asked the Dutch lad. "I don'd 
 seen no name to him." 
 
 "Well, that is what I have made out of it by studying 
 it carefully. The names were not engraved on the ring." 
 
 "On der ring? Vot ring?" 
 
 "The ring this chart was made from."
 
 206 A Story and a Mystery. 
 
 "Vrankie, you peen got me all dwisted so soon alretty. 
 I don'd know nottings apout dot ring." 
 
 "Don't you remember the odd ring I wore at Fardale 
 the one with the shining, black stone, on which fine lines 
 were traced?" 
 
 "Oh, yaw ! Der ring vot dot man in plack sdole vrom 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "But he didn't get avay mit dot ring, Vrankie. He 
 took a dumble mit himself der oldt quarry in, und dot dum- 
 ble seddled his goose, for he vas puried right avay soon 
 after dot." 
 
 ''Yes ; he was trying to get away with the ring, and we 
 were pursuing him, when he fell into the quarry. He was 
 killed by the fall, and I recovered the ring. That man 
 knew the value of the ring, and, with his dying breath, 
 told me it would guide any one to a rich mine in Arizona. 
 He died too soon to explain everything fully, but he said 
 enough to show me just how much the ring was worth." 
 
 "How vos id he knew all apout dot?" 
 
 "He had seen the ring before he saw it on my hand he 
 claimed to have possessed it once." 
 
 "How he lost id?" 
 
 "I don't remember, but I think he said it was stolen 
 from him ; but it was not rightfully his, as he had stolen it 
 in the first place." 
 
 "Und how you came to haf dot ring, Vrankie?" 
 
 "My father, who was seeking his fortune in the West, 
 sent it to my mother, and told her to keep it till he called 
 for it. Then came the report that father was dead, and, 
 when mother died, she gave the ring to me, telling me to 
 keep it always." 
 
 "Oxactly. Where dot ring peen now ?" 
 
 ''My father has it." 
 
 "I thought he peen deadt?" 
 
 "It was a false report ; he was not dead." 
 
 "I don'd toldt you so !" 
 
 "Yes ; after the ring came into his possession, he was 
 tracked from place to place, like a wild beast, by a band 
 of men who were determined to possess the ring. In vain 
 he tried to throw them off the scent ; they were like blood- 
 hounds on the trail. He found he was constantly in
 
 A Story and a Mystery. 207 
 
 deadly danger, but, knowing the value of the ring, he 
 would not give it up. He sent the ring to my mother, 
 and then, with the aid of friends, his apparent death and 
 burial were brought about. Notices of his death ap- 
 peared in papers, and were sent to my mother, so she be- 
 lieved him dead." 
 
 "Und he don'd peen deadt ad all ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Veil, uf dot don'd peat der pand! How he come to 
 haf dot ring, anyway?" 
 
 "It was given him by a dying man, whom he had be- 
 friended, and the man told him its value." 
 
 "Uud he haf got dot ring pack now ?" 
 
 "Yes ; he came for it at the time when we visited Uncle 
 Asher. My living father was the ghost which Uncle 
 Asher, my father's brother, believed he saw in the old 
 mansion. You know that, at my request, I was allowed 
 to sleep in the chamber where my mother died the cham- 
 ber frequented by the supposed ghost. He came that 
 night, and I confronted him. Then I found that my 
 father, whom I believed dead and buried, was alive. He 
 had come for the ring, which he believed mother had left 
 secreted in a hidden drawer of a dressing-case in that 
 chamber. I had the ring, and I gave it up to him. The 
 one ruling ambition of my father's life had ever been to 
 get rich. This passion had made him a wanderer on the 
 face of the earth, an exile from his home and the ones he 
 loved. He pledged me to secrecy ; he made me swear not 
 to tell his brother, my Uncle Asher, the truth, and then he 
 bade me farewell till the ring should lead him to the won- 
 derful mine of the Santa Catarina Mountains. From that 
 day to this I have heard nothing from my father." 
 
 "Dot peen a story like, Vrankie. I vos so inderested as 
 nefer vos in dot." 
 
 "It does sound rather strange and improbable, but it 
 is true." 
 
 " Vot you dink haf pecome uf your fader alretty yet ?" 
 
 "That is a mystery I would like to solve; that is one 
 thing which brought me to the Santa Catarina Mountains 
 and Powder Gap." 
 
 "You dinks maype you found him here, ain'd id?" 
 
 "I did not know."
 
 2o8 A Story and a Mystery. 
 
 "Yot you dinks now?" 
 
 "My father is not in this place; I am satisfied on that 
 point." 
 
 "Veil, vot you going to done apout dot ?" 
 
 "I am going to institute an investigation of certain 
 things, and you may bet your last dollar on that, Hans !" 
 
 "Dot's peesness! Vot you going to invesdigate ?" 
 
 "I am going to find out, if possible, how Wallace Coville 
 came into possession of the Giant Mine." 
 
 "Vot dot haf to do your fader mit ?" 
 
 "This chart, which was drawn from the lines on the 
 stone of my father's ring, locates the Giant Mine. That 
 is the mine for which my father passed through so many 
 dangers, to obtain which he pretended to die and be 
 buried. If my father is still alive, that mine should belong 
 to him ; if he is dead, it should belong to me."
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE RING. 
 
 "Shimminy Gristmas! Dot peen more inderesting as 
 nefer vas ! Dot mine peen owned by Vallace Goville, und 
 your fader don'd peen in dot. How you explain him ?" 
 
 "I don't try to explain it ; but I would like to have Mr. 
 Wallace Coville make a few explanations." 
 
 "I don'd plame you vor dot, Vrankie. You shust ged 
 righd avay after dot Vallace Goville." 
 
 "I will," declared Frank, rising to his feet. "I will see 
 him at once." 
 
 "Und I vill seen him mit you." 
 
 "No; I want you to remain here with the professor. 
 He need not be aroused till he finishes his nap. If he 
 awakens before I return, tell him where I have gone." 
 
 Hans looked disappointed. 
 
 "Maype you ged indo a scrap mit Vallace Goville, und 
 I don'd peen in dot." 
 
 "No scrap, Hans. I shall look out for that." 
 
 "Youhaf arevolfer?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Frank took out a handsome weapon, and examined it 
 to make sure it was properly loaded and in working order. 
 
 "I do not believe in carrying a weapon of this sort," ne 
 said; "but it is likely to prove handy in this part of the 
 country. As has been said, 'one may never need a gun in 
 the West; but, if he should happen to need it, he is sure 
 to need it bad.' " 
 
 "Yaw, I pelief me." 
 
 Restoring the revolver to his pocket, Frank left the 
 room and the hotel. 
 
 He made his way straight down the main street of the 
 town toward the office of the Giant Mine. Near the open- 
 ing of the mine, which was like a great mouth in the face 
 of the mountains, were numerous large wooden buildings, 
 about and within which everything was moving with a
 
 2io Discovery of the Ring. 
 
 rush and a roar. A car track ran down into the mine, 
 and up from the dark depths came carload after carload of 
 ore, the cars being drawn up by means of stationary en- 
 gine and cable. 
 
 As fast as the cars came up, their loads were dumped 
 into a great sluice, down which the ore shot on its way 
 into a building where the ore-crushers were hammering 
 and roaring, driven by another powerful engine. 
 
 Gangs of men were busy everywhere, and clouds of 
 smoke came from the black chimneys. 
 
 "By Jingoes !" muttered Frank. "This town is calling 
 for a railroad from the Tucson and Globe line, and it will 
 be built if one or two more mines like the Giant is opened 
 up. Coville says he will build it himself, if it cannot be 
 obtained in any other way." 
 
 He paused, and watched the laborers a few minutes, 
 seeing the loaded cars come up, one after the other, like 
 magic, from the dark mouth of the mine. It was an in- 
 teresting and entertaining sight, but Frank did not allow 
 it to divert him from the attempted accomplishment of 
 his purpose. 
 
 Over the door of a small building he saw a sign that 
 told him that was the office of the Giant Mine. Toward 
 this building he made his way. 
 
 Just before he reached the building, the door suddenly 
 opened, and out shot a wild-eyed Chinaman, aided by a 
 kick from a heavy boot. The Celestial landed on his 
 hands and knees, quickly scrambled to his feet and ran 
 straight into Frank's arms. 
 
 "Gitte lout!" squealed the frightened heathen, as he 
 reeled backward and sat down heavily on the ground. 
 "Chinee man in bely gleat hurry." 
 
 "I noticed that," laughed Frank. "You seem to be on 
 the jump. Business must be rushing with you." 
 
 "No blisness bely poor blisness. No shirtee to 
 washee; no sockee to washee. Melican mlan in Plowder 
 Glapee no washee at all. Melican mlan dirtee allee samee 
 pigee. Sing Lee no gitee blisness ; have to glo some odder 
 placee." 
 
 "Well, that is rough on Sing Lee." 
 
 ''Bely rough, you betee ! No likee ! Heap mlad ! Go 
 roundee tly to git shirtee to washee, sockee to washee,
 
 Discovery of the Ring. 211 
 
 slomt'ing to washee. No gitee. Tellee Chineeman to git- 
 tee lout. Chineeman tly to tlak blisness, gitee klicked 
 lout. Oh, Chineeman heap mlad, you betee !" 
 
 Then the excited Celestial got upon his feet, and danced 
 around, like a wild Indian, flourishing his fists in the air, 
 while his pigtail flopped and squirmed and twisted like 
 a snake. 
 
 Frank had never seen a Chinaman so thoroughly 
 wrought up, and the spectacle was something highly comi- 
 cal, so the boy laughed heartily. 
 
 "Lafee! Lafee!" squawked Sing Lee, furiously. 
 "Blimebly you gitee slick you lafee slo mluch !" 
 
 Then, for the first time, he seemed to notice that Frank 
 wore a fancy shirt, with a rolling collar, which had been 
 starched. 
 
 "Melican bloy wearee whlite shirtee!" he cried. "Meli- 
 can bloy mlake glood clustomer. Sing Lee washee, 
 washee bely clean, starchee bely nice." 
 
 "Where is your place of business ?" 
 
 "No open placee ylet ; jlust comee tlo tlown." 
 
 "Well, when you get your place of business open, I 
 may have something for you to do, if I am here." 
 
 "Blully bloy ! Me hugee you !" 
 
 And then, before Frank comprehended his purpose, 
 Sing Lee flung his arms round the lad's neck. 
 
 "Break away !" shouted Frank, as he flung the Celestial 
 off. "Don't get so affectionate on short acquaintance." 
 
 "Blully bloy!" repeated the heathen, grinning like an 
 ape. "Sing Lee getee clustom now; luck have turned, 
 you betee !" 
 
 "Well, I am glad if I have changed your luck," said 
 Frank; "but don't get affectionate again, or you may 
 think you've been struck by something harder than the toe 
 of a boot. So long, Sing, old boy. See you later." 
 
 "Alice light, Melican bloy. Slee you later." 
 
 Away went the Celestial, appearing very happy in the 
 belief that his luck had changed. 
 
 "Now for it," muttered Frank, as he boldly approached 
 the office door, pushed it open, and entered. 
 
 Almost immediately he found himself in the presence of 
 a man who was industriously writing at a desk. This
 
 212 Discovery of the Ring. 
 
 man looked up, and Frank saw the cold, hard face of Wal- 
 lace Coville, whom he had seen before on the street. 
 
 "Mr. Coville, I believe ?" said the boy, respectfully, hat 
 in hand. 
 
 "Yes," was the harsh reply. "What do you want ?" 
 
 "I want to talk with you a few moments, if you can 
 spare the time, sir." 
 
 "My time is valuable." 
 
 "I haven't a doubt of it, sir; and I beg your pardon for 
 bothering you, but it is concerning a matter of great im- 
 portance to me. If you can give me a few moments " 
 
 "What do you want to say ? Be lively !" 
 
 Coville turned round in his chair, and faced the boy. 
 Frank kept his eyes fairly on those of the man, which 
 seemed to make the latter somewhat uneasy, as his own 
 eyes were restless, and his gaze did not seem to rise 
 higher than Frank's chin, save for a fleeting, furtive 
 glance or two. 
 
 "I am here to speak about the Giant Mine," said the 
 lad. 
 
 Coville moved uneasily. 
 
 "Well, what about it?" 
 
 "I have a few questions to ask you concerning it," 
 
 "Ask away. I'll answer them or not, as I choose ?" 
 
 "Were you the original discoverer of this mine?" 
 
 "I was one of Look here, it's none of your bus- 
 iness ! You have nerve to come here and ask me anything 
 of the sort ! I just kicked out a Chinaman for being in- 
 solent, and you want to look out, or you will follow him !" 
 
 "There is no reason why you should get so angry, Mr. 
 Coville," said the boy, quietly. "I asked you a simple 
 question, and you did not see fit to answer it. That be- 
 ing the case, I will answer it for you. You were not one 
 of the original discoverers, but you were brought here by 
 a man who knew of this mine. You had the cash required 
 to open it and work it as it should be, and so you were 
 taken in as a partner. Where is that man now ?" 
 
 There was a black scowl on the mine owner's face, and 
 his voice grated harshly, as he returned : 
 
 "You seem to know altogether too much for a youngster 
 of your years."
 
 Discovery of the Ring. 2 1 3 
 
 "Then, you acknowledge that what I have stated is the 
 truth?" 
 
 "I neither acknowledge nor deny it; I decline to say 
 anything about it." 
 
 "That is plain enough, Mr. Coville ; but there is an old 
 
 saying that 'murder will out,' and Why, what's the 
 
 matter, sir?" 
 
 For Wallace Coville had leaped to his feet, his face 
 livid, quivering in every limb, as if he longed to fly at the 
 throat of the boy. 
 
 "Who are you?" hoarsely demanded the man. "How 
 do you dare come here and talk to me in such a manner?" 
 
 "My name is Frank Merriwell, and I am the son of 
 Charles Merriwell, who, if living, has a claim on this 
 mine." 
 
 "A claim on this mine ! Boy, you are crazy !" 
 
 "Not much ! He owned the precious ring that would 
 lead its possessor straight to this spot and to this mine." 
 
 "The ring " 
 
 "Yes, the ring that I see upon your hand at this mo- 
 ment ! It is too late to hide it ! How came you by that 
 ring, Wallace Coville?"
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 A DAUNTLESS BOY. 
 
 The startled and shaken mine owner had carried his 
 hand behind his back, in order to conceal the ring, but it 
 was too late, as the keen eyes of the dauntless boy had de- 
 tected it. 
 
 Man and boy stood facing each other in the small office 
 room, one cowering, startled, speechless, the other bold, 
 accusing, aggressive. 
 
 At that moment Wallace Coville did not seem like his 
 usual, harsh, defiant self. He was shrinking before the 
 boy, with rage and fear mingling in a look of pain on 
 his face. 
 
 Once more Frank asked the question. 
 
 "How came you by that ring?" 
 
 "It is none of your business !" 
 
 Coville made the retort, but he did so weakly, and his 
 voice was far from steady. 
 
 "You dare not answer that question truthfully!" de- 
 clared the lad, in a ringing tone. 
 
 "Go away !" cried the man. "Go away from here ! 
 You will regret it if you do not !" 
 
 "Your threats cannot scare me. I am here on business, 
 and I mean business, as you are certain to discover." 
 
 Frank seemed to have aged wonderfully since entering 
 that office. His face now was that of a man, and his 
 bearing was that of a man. The mine owner began to re- 
 alize that he was not dealing with an ordinary boy, who 
 could be easily browbeaten and intimidated. 
 
 "This ring is like a hundred others," asserted the man, 
 with an effort. 
 
 "It is not !" was the instant refutement. "It is like no 
 other ring in existence !" 
 
 "Why, it is a simple gold ring, with a black stone in the 
 setting." 
 
 "It is a peculiarly twisted band of gold, and on the
 
 A Dauntless Boy. 215 
 
 black stone are traced lines which form a chart. That 
 chart is a guide to the location of this mine." 
 
 Coville forced a harsh laugh. 
 
 "That's rot !" he declared. "Don't come here with such 
 stuff. How is it that you know so much about the ring ? 
 Bah ! It's rot, I say !" 
 
 "I dare you to let me examine that ring." 
 
 "You must think I'm a fool ! I have stood too much 
 insolence from you already ! Get out at once, or " 
 
 "Or what?" 
 
 "I'll throw you out, as I did the Chinaman !" 
 
 He took a step toward Frank, but the boy was not 
 daunted in the least. Upward was flung one of Frank's 
 hands, and he cried : 
 
 "Stop ! If you dare to lay a hand on me, you will be 
 sorry for it !" 
 
 "How melodramatic!" sneered the hard-faced mine 
 owner. 
 
 Still, he halted, and he really seemed afraid of this 
 strange boy, whose face was set and hard as if cut from 
 marble. 
 
 "I have a few things to tell you, Wallace Coville," said 
 Frank. "To begin with, that ring belongs to my father. 
 How it came into your possession I do not know, but I 
 mean to know in time I will know ! What has become 
 of my father I do not know, but that is another thing I 
 mean to learn. It brought me to these mountains, and, 
 here I mean to remain till the whole truth is known. If 
 there has been foul play if my father has been injured 
 at your hands I mean to bring you to justice ! You may 
 laugh you may sneer ! I know that I am only a boy, but 
 I will not be the first boy to avenge a wrong, or bring 
 retributive justice on the head of a villain !" 
 
 Coville made a gesture of scorn. 
 
 "You talk as if you had lately escaped from a lunatic 
 asylum. I fancy you have been reading trashy stories, 
 and you are trying to imitate some of the heroes you ad- 
 mire." 
 
 "You are at liberty to fancy anything you choose, sir." 
 
 "You are at liberty to get out of this office, and you 
 had better go while you can get away with a whole skin." 
 
 "Don't be in so much of a hurry. It is plain you are
 
 216 A Dauntless Boy. 
 
 very anxious to get entirely rid of me, but I am not easily 
 driven." 
 
 "Oh, well, take your time! If you were a man, I'd 
 throw you out. As it is, I will not have it said that I as- 
 saulted a boy." 
 
 "That lets you off easy. You might find one boy who 
 would not keep still and let you throw him out. I am 
 quite sure you have found one you cannot bluff, and you 
 have begun to realize that fact." 
 
 Coville sat down at his desk, and pretended to resume 
 work, but his hand shook so that he could not write, and 
 he was forced to keep his teeth set and his back stiffened. 
 He felt as if he had completely wilted. 
 
 Frank stood watching him, quite aware that he was put- 
 ting the man to no small amount of discomfort. The boy 
 longed to gain possession of that ring, but he could see no 
 way of succeeding at that time. 
 
 It is true that Frank was also aware that he must find 
 a powerful and dangerous enemy in the mine owner, who, 
 with his riches, held all the advantage in any struggle that 
 might arise between them. 
 
 But Frank was dauntless, and he believed that, in most 
 cases, right and justice triumphed. In youth one is likely 
 to believe this far more fully than in after years. 
 
 Frank had not accomplished his object in coming to 
 Wallace Coville, but he had made a discovery the dis- 
 covery of the ring. Now he felt sure something of a seri- 
 ous nature had happened to his father, and Wallace Co- 
 ville knew what it was. 
 
 All at once, the mine owner demanded : 
 
 "Boy, what is your name ?" 
 
 "Frank Merriwell." 
 
 "Merriwell, Merriwell," repeated Coville, knitting his 
 brows. "Why, I never heard the name before." 
 
 Then Frank remembered that his father had wished 
 certain parties to still believe him dead, and it was likely 
 he had returned to the West under a fictitious name. 
 
 In an instant, like a flash of light, a new thought came 
 to Frank's brain. 
 
 Jason Carter was he not Charles Carter Merriwell ? 
 
 To be sure ! There could be no doubt of it ! And Car- 
 ter had been Coville's partner.
 
 A Dauntless Boy. 217 
 
 It was plain sailing now, and everything began to clear 
 up rapidly. 
 
 Coville had murdered his partner, and thus he had come 
 into possession of the ring. 
 
 But it had not been merely to get the ring that the man 
 did the deed. In fact, it was doubtful if the possession 
 of the ring had been considered. 
 
 Together they had opened the Giant Mine, Coville fur- 
 nishing the capital. He had seen that the mine would 
 make one man enormously rich, and he had longed to own 
 it wholly, entirely. Although he might never have seen 
 the mine but for Carter, he did not take that into consid- 
 eration. He had thought that it was not right for Carter 
 to lay back and risk nothing in working the mine and re- 
 ceive one-half of the profits. His greed had made him 
 desire everything, and it had led him to commit a dark and 
 terrible deed. 
 
 Frank shuddered as he thought what the fate of his 
 father possibly was. 
 
 "I will avenge him !" 
 
 The words seemed to run through the lad's head. Never 
 before in all his life had he experienced such a revengeful 
 feeling. It was so strong and overpowering that he 
 himself was awed by it. 
 
 Gradually an expression of relief had come to the repel- 
 lent face of the agitated mine owner. 
 
 "I never heard the name of Merriwell before," he re- 
 peated. "You are barking up the wrong tree, young 
 man." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," firmly retorted Frank. "I presume 
 you have heard the name of Carter ?" 
 
 "Jason Carter was my partner." 
 
 "Exactly. My father's name was Charles Carter Mer- 
 riwell." 
 
 "What of that?" 
 
 "I am satisfied that Jason Carter, whose mysterious dis- 
 appearance I believe you can explain if you wish to do so, 
 was none other than my father." 
 
 The boy saw a queer look pass across the face of the 
 mine owner. 
 
 "Why should your father be known under any but his 
 right name?" asked Coville.
 
 218 A Dauntless Boy. 
 
 "Because he had foes deadly foes. There were men 
 who thirsted for his life men who longed to kill him, 
 rob him of that ring, obtain this mine !" 
 
 "That sounds more than ever like the wild fancy of 
 some story-teller's brain." 
 
 "It is true, no matter how it may sound." 
 
 "Well, I know nothing of any one but Jason Carter. 
 You imagine he was your father, or pretend to ; but I have 
 no reason to think so. He never told me anything of him- 
 self or his affairs. There was an agreement between us 
 that when one died the mine was to fall to the other." 
 
 "What kind of an agreement ?" 
 
 "A written, signed, and witnessed agreement." 
 
 "You have it now ?" 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "Will you let me see it?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because I do not care to do so. If it ever becomes 
 necessary, I can and will produce it, in proving my right 
 as sole claimant to and owner of the Giant Mine." 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Wallace Coville ; I will not trouble you 
 more. However, before I go, I will tell you that a cor- 
 rect and accurate chart was made from the lines on the 
 stone of that ring. That chart I have in my possession. 
 It may be valueless ; it may be worth a great deal. You 
 will hear more from me. Good-day." 
 
 Frank walked swiftly on his way back to the hotel. He 
 did not see Wallace Coville come to the door of the office 
 and make a signal to a big, red-whiskered man, who was 
 loafing near at hand, nor did he observe that, after Coville 
 had spoken a few words to this man, the ruffian also has- 
 tened toward the New York Hotel. 
 
 The boy's face was hard and set. He was fully convinced 
 that his father had been foully dealt with, and that the 
 present owner of the Giant Mine had been the instigator of 
 the deed. 
 
 Believing this, Frank saw before him the task of learn- 
 ing all the black truth, and bringing the guilty wretch to 
 justice. 
 
 "He shall not escape !"
 
 A Dauntless Boy. 219 
 
 Those were the words which Frank repeated over and 
 over to himself. 
 
 Just as he reached the steps of the hotel, the red-whis- 
 kered ruffian came up behind, ran heavily against him, and 
 $ell aside, with a snarling exlamation. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said Frank, quietly. 
 
 "Oh, yer does, does yer?" grated the tough citizen. 
 *'Wa'al, that don't go with me, kid, unless yer gits down 
 on yer knees an' beseeches it most humble like." 
 
 In a moment Frank realized that he had a hard charac- 
 ter to deal with, and that the man was looking for trouble. 
 
 The boy quickly faced about. Just then he was not in 
 a mood to be bluffed. 
 
 "You want me to get down on my knees and ask your 
 pardon ?" 
 
 "That's whatever I does, an' yer'd better be about it 
 derned lively ! You hear me chirp !" 
 
 "What will you do if I do not get down on my knees to 
 you?" 
 
 "Do? Why, dern yer skin, I'll chaw yer up I'll 
 make a lunch off yer ! You ain't big enough fer a squar' 
 meal !" 
 
 "Then, you had better begin by taking a bite at once !" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I say you had better begin by taking a bite at once." 
 
 "You won't git down on yer marrer-bones ?" 
 
 "Nary git, my strawberry blond !" 
 
 "Whoop!" howled the ruffian, going through a wild 
 war-dance, as he rolled up the sleeves of his woolen shirt. 
 "Strawberry blond ! Wow ! Give me room ! I'm going 
 ter scatter yer all over ther street !" 
 
 "Sail in." 
 
 Being a character reader, Frank knew the big ruffian 
 was a coward at heart, for all of his bluster and fierce ap- 
 pearance. He knew the man could be easily and quickly 
 cowed if the trick were done in the proper manner. 
 
 And he had not forgotten the revolver in his pocket. 
 
 "Yer don't know me !" roared the tough, as he spat on 
 his hands. 
 
 "I haven't that misfortune, I am happy to say." 
 
 "Woosh ! Misfortune ! But you do want to be chawed 
 up! I'll tell yer who I am. I'm Ben Bolt, ther feller
 
 22O A Dauntless Boy. 
 
 what ther song was writ about, only some chump twisted 
 ther words round ther wrong way. They wuz all about 
 me ter begin with, an' this wuz ther way they run : 
 
 "Does yer remember Jim Corbett, Ben Bolt 
 
 Jim Corbett, as yer done up so brown? 
 He thought he wuz a dandy, Ben Bolt; 
 But yer put him ter sleep in one roun'." 
 
 "You must be a regular slugger." 
 
 "Oh, I am ; I'm a terror on trucks. When I gits ter 
 goin', you want to clear ther road an' stan' from under." 
 
 "You alarm me." 
 
 "Then, git down on yer marrer-bones, an' beg my par- 
 don instanter !" 
 
 "I couldn't think of it, Ben Bolt." 
 
 "Then, I'll put yer down !" 
 
 He made a grab for Frank's neck. The boy dodged, 
 and then, quick as a flash, standing on the step in a po- 
 sition that brought him on a level with the desperado, he 
 brought round his right fist with a heavy, swinging mo- 
 tion, landing fairly on Ben Bolt's jaw. 
 
 Never in all his life had the fellow been more aston- 
 ished, for that blow knocked him flat in the dust. He sat 
 up quickly, staring at the boy in amazement, gasping : 
 
 "Say, who threw something?" 
 
 "Nobody." 
 
 "Did you hit me with a chunk of quartz ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "What did yer hev in yer hand ?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "An' yer knocked me down with yer bare fist ?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 "I don't believe it!" 
 
 "Come again." 
 
 "Dern me ef I don't, an' I'll paralyze yer !" 
 
 The ruffian scrambled to his feet; but, at this moment, 
 a solemn-looking, long-haired man came down the steps, 
 having witnessed what had passed between the man and 
 boy. This person was dressed in black clothes, and wore 
 a long, black coat. 
 
 "Peace, brother, peace," he said, addressing Ben Bolt 
 "Attempt not to molest this gentle lad."
 
 A Dauntless Boy. 221 
 
 "Gentle lad!" snorted the ruffian. "Did yer see him 
 soak me ?" 
 
 "I did, brother ; but you provoked him to wrath. I am 
 sure he would not have done so otherwise. You know the 
 Good Book saith ye shall be long suffering and slow unto 
 anger." 
 
 "Whoop! What's ther matter with yer? Be you a 
 gospel sharp ?" 
 
 "I am an humble but unworthy servant in the vineyard, 
 doing the best I can, in my poor way, to bring sinners unto 
 repentance before it is everlastingly too late." 
 
 "Wa-al, you've struck a right bad town fer your bus- 
 iness, an' I advise yer ter git out instanter." 
 
 "I go wherever I am called." 
 
 "Wa-al, yer ain't got no call ter meddle with this yere 
 difficulty, so git out !" 
 
 "Peace, brother peace once again. Strife and conten- 
 tion are distasteful to me, and I entreat you to restrain 
 your angry passions." 
 
 "Git out, parson ! That kind of guff don't go in this 
 yere place, as you'll right soon find out. Ther boys don't 
 care fer preachin', an' they won't hev it." 
 
 "Oh, I think you are mistaken, brother. At any rate, I 
 have decided to preach in the Snow Flake saloon at nine 
 o'clock this evening, and I trust I may have the pleasure 
 of seeing you among those there assembled." 
 
 "In ther Snow Flake ? Wow ! Has Andy Barter said 
 yer could preach thar ?" 
 
 "Who is Andy Barter, brother?" 
 
 "He's ther gent as runs ther Snow Flake, an' he's hot 
 stuff, yer bet yer boots !" 
 
 "I have not asked Brother Barter anything about it, but 
 I go where I am called." 
 
 "Wa-al, ye'll go whar you're sent in case you tries ter 
 spout gospel in ther Snow Flake, an' thet'll be right out of 
 ther door on ther toe of Andy's boot." 
 
 Quite a crowd had now gathered around, and the rough 
 men were grinning at the strange parson, and making de- 
 risive remarks, none of which the man seemed to hear. 
 
 Frank had remained quietly on the steps, rather amused 
 by the turn affairs had taken.
 
 222 A Dauntless Boy. 
 
 Now, however, the ruffian again turned on the boy, 
 snarling : 
 
 "Yer hit me by accident, an' I made a misstep and tum- 
 bled down ; but now I'll hammer yer face !" 
 
 "You had better not try it," warned Frank, calmly. 
 
 "Bah!" 
 
 Ben Bolt started to strike the lad, but he stopped sud- 
 denly, with his fist uplifted, staring straight into the muz- 
 zle of a revolver. 
 
 The revolver was held in Frank's hand, and it was 
 steady and firm as a rock. 
 
 "You are a ruffian and a bruiser," said the lad, "but this 
 makes me your match. By sheer brute strength you 
 might be able to beat me senseless. However, you will 
 not be given the opportunity, for I'll shoot the roof of 
 your head off if you move toward me another inch !" 
 
 Ben Bolt glared, but he saw that the youth meant ex- 
 actly what he said. 
 
 "Be careful with the deadly weapon, my young 
 brother !" cried the parson, quickly. "You are commanded 
 not to shed human blood." 
 
 "Self-defense is the first law of nature." 
 
 "Strife and contention I abhor." 
 
 "Then, you have come to a poor place for your peace of 
 mind." 
 
 "I believe in avoiding trouble in all cases." 
 
 "There are times when it is impossible, and this seems 
 to be one of them." 
 
 Ben Bolt was grinding his teeth and looking as if he 
 longed to eat Frank, but the boy did not take his eyes off 
 the ruffian for a second. 
 
 In the meantime, another ruffianly character came out 
 of the hotel, and, seeing how matters stood, stole down 
 quietly behind the lad. 
 
 Before Frank was aware that another person was close 
 behind him, the fellow reached over the boy's shoulder, 
 clutched the revolver, and twisted it out of his hand, say- 
 ing: 
 
 "Let me hiv thot plaything, me b'y; it's hurrut ye 
 moight get wid it." 
 
 Frank was disarmed. 
 
 "Now I'll hammer yer !" howled Ben Bolt.
 
 A Dauntless Boy. 223 
 
 "Hold!" commanded the parson. "There must be no 
 contention !" 
 
 "Go to thunder!" snarled the ruffian. "I'm goin' ter 
 knock ther stuffin' out of ther kid !" 
 
 "An' Oi'll see thot yee does it, Binny, me lad," said the 
 Irishman who had disarmed Frank. 
 
 "Lo and behold, this is too much for frail mortal to en- 
 dure!" sighed the parson. "Human flesh is prone to 
 weakness, and all humanity is sorely tried by temptations. 
 I can't stand idly by and see the weak assailed by the 
 strong, even though I may grievously err. If there is 
 going to be a scrap, I'll have to be in it, even though it 
 may cause me hours of remorseful repentance." 
 
 And the peaceful parson began to remove his coat, in a 
 very businesslike manner.
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN FROM FRANCE. 
 
 Both ruffians stared in astonishment, and the crowd 
 roared with laughter. 
 
 "Go it, old socks !" cried one. 
 
 "Give him gospel !" adjured another. 
 
 "Quote Scripture to him!" advised a third. 
 
 "Begorra," cried the Irish ruffian, in astonishment, "Oi 
 belave th' praste manes ter foight !" 
 
 "I am one of the most peaceful members of the spotless 
 flock," declared the old parson, "but, as I observed before, 
 human flesh is prone to weakness, and I cannot remain 
 idly at hand and see the weak beset by the strong." 
 
 "Get out !" snarled Ben Bolt, in an ugly manner. "Ef 
 you dip in hyar, you'll wish yer hadn't !" 
 
 "It is possible, brother, that you may wish I hadn't." 
 
 The parson was now ready for business, and he squared 
 away at the big ruffian in a manner that quickly convinced 
 Frank he knew something of the "manly art." 
 
 " Wa-al, I'll knock ther corners off yer in one punch !" 
 cried Ben Bolt. 
 
 He made a rush for the parson. 
 
 Spat smash thud ! 
 
 A howl of delight went up from the spectators, for the 
 parson had ducked under Ben's arm, come up behind the 
 fellow's shoulder, struck him twice with astonishing swift- 
 ness, and dropped him like a log in the dust. 
 
 More than one present declared it the prettiest piece of 
 work they had ever seen. 
 
 "Mike ! Mike !" thickly bellowed the man who had been 
 knocked down; "jump in hyar! Don't let 'em kick me!" 
 
 "Begorra, it's no nade thot wan has to do innything av 
 th' koind," retorted the Irishman. "Th' spalpane stroikes 
 harruder thin a mule can kick. Ye may have him. Oi'll 
 take th' b'y."
 
 A Gentleman from France. 225 
 
 Then Mike made a rush for Frank, whom he expected 
 to take by surprise and easily overcome. 
 
 Frank was on the watch for just such a move, and he 
 met Mike more than halfway. 
 
 The Irishman was short and thickset, rather slow of 
 movement, and strong. 
 
 He tried to clutch the boy, but he grasped no more than 
 empty air. Frank was not there, and, the next moment, 
 Mike felt himself flying through the air. 
 
 Frank had stooped low down, caught Mike near the 
 knees, and flung the Irishman fairly over his head. 
 
 The astounded Irishman struck on his head and shoul- 
 ders, fell at full length on his back, and lay there, gazing 1 
 blankly up at the sky, muttering : 
 
 "It's an illigant, foine lot av shtars ye are, to be sure! 
 Oi nivver saw so minny before in th' daytoime." 
 
 "What's the matter with the boy ?" howled some one in 
 the crowd of spectators. 
 
 "He's all right !" roared a stentorian voice. 
 
 Then a cheer of delight went up. 
 
 As for the parson, he was urging Ben Bolt to get up. 
 
 "Arise, brother," he entreated; "I never like to do a 
 thing by halves, and, now that I have been led into this 
 unseemly strife, it is my earnest and sincere desire to pol- 
 ish you off properly." 
 
 "It wuz a mistake," mumbled Ben. "You can't do it 
 again." 
 
 Then he got upon his feet, keeping his eyes on the 
 parson, who made no offer to take an advantage of him as 
 he was getting up. 
 
 "I'll do yer this yar time, Old Gospel !" snarled the ruf- 
 fian. 
 
 He approached the parson, in a manner that plainly in- 
 dicated he had learned to be cautious. The slender man 
 in black calmly awaited the fellow's attack. 
 
 Of a sudden, the bruiser closed in, striking heavily at 
 the parson's face. It was intended for a knockout blow, 
 and such it would have been if it had landed. 
 
 The parson guarded, and countered with his left. 
 
 Ben Bolt's fist was thrust upward into the air, and an 
 opening was made, through which the parson struck, with 
 a swinging, round-shoulder movement.
 
 226 A Gentleman from France. 
 
 It seemed as if something- broke when the hard knuckles 
 of the man in black were planted under the bully's ear. 
 
 Down dropped Ben Bolt, like a lifeless thing, fairly 
 knocked out. 
 
 Mike, the Irishman, had sat up in time to see this, and 
 he now said : 
 
 "It's a mistake we made, Oi'm thinkin', fer thase gin- 
 tlemin are not in our class. Oi don't care fer thot koind 
 av medicine, an' so Oi'll jist kape Binny company." 
 
 Then he deliberately lay down in the dust once more. 
 
 "The trouble is over," shouted somebody in the crowd. 
 
 At this moment, Frank heard a familiar voice call : 
 
 "Vrankie !" 
 
 He looked up, and saw Hans leaning out of a window 
 above. 
 
 "Uf you don'd vant some hellup in dot row, Vrankie, 
 why ain'd you said so?" demanded the Dutch boy, re- 
 proachfully. "Vait an hour und I peen down und stood 
 pehind you." 
 
 "You're too late," laughed Frank. 
 
 The delighted and admiring crowd flocked around the 
 boy and the parson, and, before the two could comprehend 
 the intention of the mob, they were lifted on broad shoul- 
 ders and carried toward the Snow Flake saloon. 
 
 There was no way of escaping, and so they submitted as 
 gracefully as possible. 
 
 Right into the saloon they were carried, and twenty men 
 ordered drinks for the victors. 
 
 "Brothers," called the parson, "I fully appreciate the 
 kindness of your hearts, but I never look on the whisky 
 when it is red, for it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like 
 an adder." 
 
 "I am with you, parson," said Frank. "I never drink, 
 under any circumstances." 
 
 "Stick to that, my boy. 'Wine is a mocker, strong 
 drink is raging, and whosoever is deceived thereby is not 
 wise.' " 
 
 The crowd was greatly disappointed. 
 
 "We want ter drink ter ther health o' ther swiftest par- 
 son an' ther smartest kid we ever saw," said one. 
 
 "Then, drink in water," said the parson, "and we will
 
 A Gentleman from France. 227 
 
 drink with you. Come, brothers and friends, surprise 
 your stomachs and satisfy us by drinking water." 
 
 "Water ?" cried one old bummer, with a very red nose. 
 "What is water, anyhow ?" 
 
 "I can't drink that," protested another. "It'll make me 
 sick." 
 
 "I saw the whole affair," said Andy Barter, the pro- 
 prietor of the saloon, "and, if the parson and the kid say 
 water, water goes. Every blamed galoot hyar drinks 
 water with the parson and the kid. Hold on, thar, Red- 
 nose Jerry !" he called, sharply, whipping a revolver out 
 from beneath the bar and covering an old bummer, who 
 was hurrying toward the door. "You can't escape. Once 
 more in your life you'll have to stand up and take water !" 
 
 "Well, if ther stuff kills me, you'll have to pay the 
 funeral expenses," whimpered the bummer. 
 
 Andy Barter and his barkeeper quickly filled a long row 
 of glasses with water, and every person present was re- 
 quired to take a glass. 
 
 Then, for the first time, Frank observed a striking- 
 looking man, who stood upon a box and called the atten- 
 tion of the crowd by proposing a toast. 
 
 This man was tall and finely formed. He was dressed 
 in a black velvet suit, on which were buttons of gold. His 
 hat, a soft, fashionable affair, was encircled by a gold 
 cord. On his feet he wore wine-colored tan shoes. His 
 handsome negligee shirt had a wide, starched collar, be- 
 neath which a tasty silk tie was passed round and knotted. 
 In the knot sparkled a diamond that contained a thousand 
 colored fires. A gold chain was strung across his vest, 
 and another diamond gleamed from the one ring he wore 
 upon his left hand. 
 
 But it was the man's face that attracted Frank's atten- 
 tion. The flesh bore a cold, deathly pallor, like marble, as 
 if this man had long been confined in some dark dungeon. 
 His eyes were dark and piercing, alive with the fires of 
 youth, but his long hair was snowy white, as, likewise, 
 were his mustache and imperial. 
 
 A low cry of wonder was forced from Frank's lips, as 
 he stared at this striking figure. 
 
 "That face!" whispered the boy to himself. "I have
 
 228 A Gentleman from France. 
 
 seen it before ! It is the face of No, no ! I must 
 
 be mistaken !" 
 
 "Genteelmen," said the stranger on the box, "I see ze 
 fight. Eet was wondaerful eet was gr-r-reat ! Genteel- 
 men, I am a strangaire in your countaree, but een my own 
 countaree,.in France, I sometime see some wondareful 
 things. Nevaire have I seen ze bettaire fight zan zat. I 
 am a offizare in ze French armee I hole ze commissione 
 of marshal. My name ees Fabian Danglar. Genteelmen, 
 Marshal Danglar propose to you ze toast. Here to ze 
 health of ze parzone ; may he be successful in ze conver- 
 sione of souls. And here to ze health of Frank Merri- 
 well ; may he solve ze mysteree zat breeng him here may 
 he learn ze secret zat ees buried in ze black depfti of ze 
 ground. Drink heartee." 
 
 Frank was astonished. This white-haired, marble- 
 faced, fire-eyed Frenchman knew him, knew his name, 
 knew more. 
 
 What did he mean by speaking of a secret buried in the 
 heart of the ground ? 
 
 The question flashed through Frank's mind in a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 For the briefest space of time the boy was dazed, but 
 he swiftly recovered, and then he drank with the rest. 
 
 Jerry, the old toper, pretended to drink, but he managed 
 to deftly toss the water on the floor, and he was heard to 
 mutter : 
 
 "I don't take no chances I don't. There ain't no 
 knowing how long I'd be sick if I took a drink of water, 
 and I might drop dead." 
 
 "Now, dear friends in sin," said the parson, "I wish to 
 announce that I will speak a few words of spiritual com- 
 fort in this place this evening at nine o'clock, and I hope 
 to see you all present." 
 
 Andy Barter gasped. 
 
 "Well, that's what I call nerve!" he cried, in a dazed 
 way. Then he thumped the bar with his fist, and de- 
 clared : "But it goes, you bet ! A parson that can fight 
 the way this one can oughter have a chance to talk gospel, 
 and I'm honored at his selecting my saloon. If any of my 
 regular customers stay away this night, I shall consider 
 it a personal insult."
 
 A Gentleman from France. 229 
 
 "We'll all come !" cried the crowd. 
 
 The parson expressed his thankfulness, and then, beg- 
 ging them to excuse him, hastily left the saloon. 
 
 Frank would have followed the parson, but he wished 
 to have a word with Fabian Danglar, for which purpose 
 he lingered. 
 
 \ The Frenchman soon came toward the boy, and Frank 
 If elt his heart rising into his mouth, as the man approached. 
 He seemed fascinated and spellbound by those wondrous, 
 black eyes and that deathly-white face. 
 
 "Mistaire Merriwell," said Danglar, with the polished 
 politeness that is natural to a Frenchman, "you are a won- 
 daire for a boyee. Zat treek you do when you knock ze 
 beeg ruffian down was goode, but zat ozare treek you do 
 when you t'row ze Ireeshman ovare your head was vera 
 much bettaire. And you do not dreenk ze whiskee ? Ah, 
 zat ees goode! Nevaire touch ze whiskee, for eet have 
 ruined vera many men." 
 
 The face, the voice, the eyes all seemed strangely fa- 
 miliar to Frank ; but still the boy could not remember that 
 he had ever met Marshal Danglar before that day. There 
 was something fascinating about the man, something awe- 
 some. 
 
 "I thank you for your compliments," said the lad, with 
 an effort. 
 
 Danglar waved his hand, with a graceful movement. 
 
 "I speak ze trute, Mistaire Merriwell I always speak 
 ze trute. Sometime my word they be not so pleasant to 
 somebodee." 
 
 "How is it that you know me ?" questioned Frank. 
 
 The man smiled, in a mysterious way. 
 
 "I know manee people zat do nevare know me." 
 
 "It almost seems that I have seen you before. Your 
 face, your voice, and your eyes seem strangely familiar." 
 
 "Zat may be ze trute. Do you believe in ze transmigra- 
 tion of ze soul ? Do you believe zat everybodee have live 
 manee lives before ze one zey live now ? I believe in zat, 
 Mistaire Merriwell. I even remember some of ze things 
 what I do when I live some ozare life in some ozare body, 
 before I have zis bodee zat you see now. Maybe we meet 
 zen, and we remembaire each ozare." 
 
 From any other man, these words might have seemed
 
 230 A Gentleman from France. 
 
 ridiculous to the boy ; but there was something about Fa- 
 bian Danglar that made them strangely impressive, and 
 Frank shivered a little, although he forced a laugh. 
 
 "I scarcely think that is why I remember you," he said. 
 "It is possible I do not remember you at all ; it may be 
 mere fancy." 
 
 Danglar's eyes seemed piercing him through and 
 through, and Frank fancied they could read his secret 
 thoughts. 
 
 "Oh, I don't think eet ees ze fancee. You do not be- 
 lieve ze t'ings zat I believe, Mistaire Merriwell." 
 
 "You knew my name." 
 
 "I found it out at ze hotel." 
 
 "You spoke of something strange." 
 
 "What was zat?" 
 
 "Of a mystery I came to Powder Gap to solve." 
 
 "Zat ees trute." 
 
 "And of a secret hidden in the ground." 
 
 "Oui, I may say zat." 
 
 "What did you mean by it?" 
 
 Danglar shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Ask me somet'ing easee." 
 
 "Do you mean that you cannot tell ?" 
 
 "Sometime I say t'ings zat I do not know ze meaning 
 of myself. I do not know zat I am going to say zem, but 
 when I speak zey come out." 
 
 "You surely knew what you were saying then ?" 
 
 "Perhaps." 
 
 "You do not deny it ?" 
 
 "I deny nottings, Mistaire Merriwell." 
 
 Frank was more puzzled than ever, and utterly baffled 
 by the man's manner. He felt a rising anger and impa- 
 tience, but he suppressed them, and held them in check. 
 
 "You will not tell me what you meant, sir ?" 
 
 "You will find out for yourself in ze course of time." 
 
 "Perhaps so." 
 
 "You are pritee sure to do zat, for you do what you try 
 to do. You have ze way of always coming out at ze top 
 in anyt'ing. But I have to warn you." 
 
 "Warn me?" 
 
 "Oui, Mistaire Merriwell." 
 
 "Of what?"
 
 A Gentleman from France. 231 
 
 "Dangare vera great dangare." 
 
 "What kind of danger?" 
 
 "Dangare of your life." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 "You have in zis place one enemee he hate you, and, 
 zough you be one boyee, he fear you at ze same time. Eet 
 was heem zat set ze beeg ruffaine on you. Zat ruffame 
 was to pound you teel you was keeled by ze accident some 
 way." 
 
 "You must mean Wallace Coville?" 
 
 Danglar said nothing. 
 
 "Are you sure he sent the ruffian after me?" eagerly 
 asked the boy. 
 
 "I am sure your enemee do zat." 
 
 "I can have no other enemy in Powder Gap, so he must 
 be the one." 
 
 "Zen, look out for heem ; zat ees all. Bimeby I see you 
 again latare." 
 
 Politely bidding Frank adieu, the strange Frenchman 
 left the saloon. 
 
 Wondering at what he had heard, the boy soon followed 
 Danglar, although the crowd would have kept him longer. 
 
 Frank was supplied with plenty of food for reflection. 
 He still felt that he had seen the Frenchman somewhere 
 before this meeting in Powder Gap, but where, or when, it 
 was impossible for him to tell. 
 
 There was something awe-inspiring about the man with 
 the white hair, marble face, and coal-black eyes, and yet 
 Frank felt drawn toward him in a most mysterious and 
 unaccountable manner. 
 
 It was certainly wonderful that the man knew so much 
 about Frank, and the boy felt that his warning was to be 
 heeded. 
 
 Wallace Coville was rich and powerful, and he was 
 certainly a bad man for an enemy. 
 
 That Coville had sent Ben Bolt to pick a quarrel with 
 Frank was something the lad had not suspected, but, now, 
 he did not doubt it in the least. 
 
 It was plainly Coville's object to drive the lad from 
 Powder Gap, or fix him so he could never make any trou- 
 "Dlesome investigation of the mystery surrounding the dis- 
 appearance of Jason Carter.
 
 232 A Gentleman from France. 
 
 Knowing this beyond a doubt, Frank was more than 
 ever determined to know the entire truth, and bring Co- 
 ville to justice. 
 
 Then he thought of Danglar's words concerning a "se- 
 cret hidden in the black depths of the earth." 
 
 "The Giant Mine," thought the boy. "The secret must 
 be hidden there, and I will find a way to bring it from the 
 black depth to the open light of day."
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 THE PROFESSOR'S TROUBLES. 
 
 The peculiar parson had registered at the New York 
 Hotel as "P. C. Full," and it did not take the citizens of 
 Powder Gap long to fall into the way of calling him "Par- 
 son Peaceful." 
 
 Long before nine o'clock that evening the entire town 
 had heard of the encounter in front of the hotel, and there 
 was a general desire to see the queer preacher and the re- 
 markable boy who had easily whipped two of the worst 
 ruffians in the Santa Catarina Mountains. 
 
 There had been a sudden influx of noteworthy stran- 
 gers, of whom Frank did not attract the least attention, 
 being pointed out and admiringly inspected wherever he 
 went. 
 
 For all of his sudden notoriety, the parson conducted 
 himself with modesty, being quite unassuming and lamb- 
 like in manner. Looking at him, as he strolled pensively 
 through the town, no one could have fancied he knew the 
 least about righting, or could be driven into fighting if he 
 did know anything. 
 
 Fabian Danglar would have attracted attention any- 
 where, even though he had dressed modestly and in an 
 unassuming manner. As he dressed extravagantly, and 
 seemed to court observation, he produced no small amount 
 of comment. 
 
 If an ordinary man had appeared in Powder Gap wear- 
 ing Danglar's clothes, a dozen men would have regarded 
 it as a personal insult, and sought to "curry him down." 
 
 Danglar, however, was anything but an ordinary man. 
 There was something awesome about his cold, white face, 
 and his keen, black eyes had a way of seeming to look 
 down into one's very soul. 
 
 No one thought of tackling the strange Frenchman. 
 
 Among the strangers was one who was regarded as of 
 little importance, and yet he attracted considerable attea-
 
 234 The Professor's Troubles. 
 
 tion, as he was the first Celestial to enter Powder Gap. 
 Sing Lee, the Chinaman, persisted in trying to "drum up 
 business," although he ran into no small amount of trou- 
 ble, and seemed nearly frightened out of his senses a 
 dozen times an hour. 
 
 Returning to the hotel after his talk with Danglar in 
 the Snow Flake saloon, Frank found Hans and Professor 
 Scotch anxiously awaiting his arrival. 
 
 "Vere you peen so long alretty?" demanded Hans. 
 
 "Look here, Frank look here!" blustered the profes- 
 sor, caressing his fiery whiskers, "I've enough of this !" 
 
 "Why don't you shave it off ?" laughed the boy. 
 
 "Eh? What's that? What's that?" 
 
 "I can't name it." 
 
 "Young man, you are altogether too gay. Remember, 
 I am your legal guardian, and I don't want to be 
 treated " 
 
 "I never knew you to refuse, if you were asked to take 
 something." 
 
 The professor gasped, his face flushing. 
 
 "This is too much ! This is too much !" rumbled the lit- 
 tle man with the big voice, as he excitedly rubbed his long 
 nose. 
 
 "I think so myself," chuckled the irrepressible lad ; "but 
 I suppose it grew there without your consent?" 
 
 "Yaw, yaw, yaw !" roared Hans, forgetting himself, and 
 giving the little professor a resounding slap on the back. 
 
 The Dutch boy's hands were like hams, and Professor 
 Scotch was sent down on his hands and knees in a twin- 
 kling. 
 
 "Oxcuse me, brofessor!" cried the frightened lad. "I 
 don'd meant to done dot !" 
 
 He made a spring to assist the professor to his feet. 
 Frank thrust out a foot, and tripped the fat Dutch boy, 
 so he fell fairly upon Professor Scotch, who was crushed 
 to the floor. 
 
 "Murder !" roared the professor. "I can't stand this !" 
 
 "You can't, can you ?" laughed Frank. 
 
 "This is no joke !" cried Scotch, as he gave Hans a kick 
 in the stomach. 
 
 "Veil, I dinks dot meinseluf !" gurgled the Dutch boy,
 
 The Professor's Troubles. 235 
 
 beginning to get mad himself. "You don'd like dot, do 
 I ? Veil, dot makes you efen mit me." 
 
 He kicked the professor, in return, and the little man 
 went down on his face, rubbing his nose into the rough 
 floor, and filling it with splinters. 
 
 Scotch sat up, clasping his nose with both hands, and 
 glaring at Hans, who also sat up, clasping his stomach, 
 and glaring at the professor. 
 
 The sight was so ludicrous that Frank was convulsed 
 with laughter. 
 
 "Oh, if I had a camera now !" he cried. "What a pic- 
 ture you would make !" 
 
 "I'll fix him so he'll make a picture !" rumbled the angry 
 professor, as he made a scramble for Hans. 
 
 The Dutch lad gave a squeal, and swiftly rolled out of 
 the way. 
 
 "Go it !" cried Frank, standing on a chair, in order to be 
 out of the way. "I'll bet on the best man !" 
 
 "Brofessor! Brofessor!" squawked Hans; "uf you 
 don'd let me alone, I vill get hurt !" 
 
 ''Just let me get hold of you !" cried the excited and an- 
 gered man. 
 
 "Not on your electrodype! Vait an hour, und let me 
 excuse yourself!" 
 
 In the excitement of the scramble, the two came heavily 
 against the chair on which Frank was standing, and he 
 came down with a bump on the professor's shoulders. As 
 he fell, one of Frank's feet struck Hans on the ear, and 
 the Dutch lad was sent rolling onto his back, stunned and 
 bewildered. 
 
 The professor was so shocked that he made no effort to 
 rise, and Frank remained seated on his shoulders, whis- 
 tling "Hold the Fort." 
 
 Hans sat up, with one hand clasped to his stomach and 
 the other to his ear. 
 
 "Veil," he murmured, "I don'd exactly know vere I 
 vos at." 
 
 Professor Scotch groaned. 
 
 "What has happened ?" he thickly asked, in a smothered 
 voice. "Has there been an earthquake, or anything of 
 that kind?" 
 
 "Oh, there's been a slight breeze, that's all," laughed
 
 236 The Professor's Troubles. 
 
 Frank. "Professor, you seem to be full of business and 
 splinters. If you are all right now, I'll remove myself, 
 and let you get up." 
 
 "Oh, sit still !" gurgled the professor. "Make yourself 
 comfortable !" 
 
 Frank arose, and assisted the professor to his feet. 
 Blood was running from the end of the man's nose, and 
 he looked badly broken up. Hans got upon his feet, and 
 the two gazed at each other, ruefully. 
 
 "I think there has been a mistake," said Scotch. 
 
 "Yaw," murmured the boy ; "I belief dot." 
 
 "The professor nose it," declared Frank, and then 
 dodged, as if expecting somebody to throw something. 
 
 "You boys will be the death of me yet !" sighed the little 
 man. "Look at my nose full of splinters! Hans, as 
 you were the cause of that, you'll have to pick them out." 
 
 "Veil, I vill done dot uf you got me a knife." 
 
 "I won't have a knife used about my nose," declared 
 the professor. "I have here in the lapel of my coat a fine 
 cambric needle which you may use." 
 
 "Dot vos der sduff, brofessor! I peen retty to done 
 dot." 
 
 "You must be very careful not to hurt me." 
 
 "Oh, yaw ; I don'd hurt you no more than I can, bro- 
 fessor." 
 
 "If you hurt me unnecessarily well, you'll wish you 
 hadn't." 
 
 "Don'd you got oxcited. I vos der most careful veller 
 vot you nefer seen, brofessor." 
 
 "All right. Here's the needle." 
 
 "Come ofer der vindow by, und I done dot surgical 
 oberation righd avay off soon." 
 
 So they went over to the window, where the professor 
 sat on a chair, and Hans stood over him, ready to begin 
 work. 
 
 Frank pretended to examine the professor's nose, mak- 
 ing some sympathetic observations. Then Hans began to 
 pick out the splinters. 
 
 It was a most ludicrous spectacle, and Frank was con- 
 vulsed with laughter. 
 
 "If you could see yourself now, professor, you would 
 be proud all the rest of your life," he said.
 
 The Professor's Troubles. 237 
 
 "Oh, it's all right!" grated Scotch, who was holding 
 himself in check with an effort. "I know who is respon- 
 sible for all this." 
 
 "Hope you don't mean me?" exclaimed the mischievous 
 lad, with pretended sorrow. "It grieves my heart to see 
 you suffer, professor." 
 
 "Oh, you are very tender-hearted, now it is all over!" 
 
 "I don't know whether it is over or not," thought the 
 boy, as he watched Hans picking away at the splinters. 
 
 "Ouch !" ejaculated Scotch. "Be careful, Hans ! That 
 needle is sharp !" 
 
 "Yes," said Frank, soberly, "be very careful Hans, for 
 that needle is sharp." 
 
 Then he gave the Dutch lad a sharp, sly pinch. 
 
 Hans gave a howl and a jump, driving the needle into 
 the professor's nose. 
 
 Then it was Scotch's turn to howl. 
 
 "Murder!" he roared, bounding from the chair like a 
 rubber ball. "I'm stabbed !" 
 
 He came near going into convulsions, tearing madly 
 round the room, as he thundered : 
 
 ''Send for a doctor! I'm stabbed! I am bleeding to 
 death!" 
 
 "Send for a doctor, Hans !" shouted Frank, as he tore 
 about the room at the professor's heels. "A moment's de- 
 lay may be fatal !" 
 
 "The needle !" bawled the little man. "It's sticking in 
 my nose !" 
 
 "The needle!" echoed Frank. "It's sticking in his 
 nose ! And that is not a pincushion." 
 
 The professor found the door, yanked it open, sprang 
 out, and fell all the way downstairs. Picking himself up 
 when he reached the bottom, he rushed into the office, 
 where he found a clerk, who extracted the needle, with 
 the aid of some tweezers.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 PARSON PEACEFUL. 
 
 That evening at nine o'clock the Snow Flaks :aloon 
 was packed to the doors. It seemed that the entire town 
 had heard that Parson Peaceful was to deliver a sermon 
 there, and had turned out to hear it. 
 
 Although Professor Scotch professed a pronounced 
 horror of such a place as the Snow Flake, Frank had in- 
 duced him to visit the saloon that evening to hear the 
 fighting parson speak. 
 
 The professor wore a patch of plaster over the entire 
 end of his nose, and he had a woeful, downcast expression, 
 that made him look very tame and dejected. 
 
 Until nine o'clock came, Andy Barter did a rushing 
 business at the bar. 
 
 Promptly at nine Parson Peaceful mounted to the top 
 of the bar and announced that the sale of drinks would be 
 suspended till he had finished speaking. 
 
 As Barter had not been asked about this, he was not a 
 little surprised, but he said : 
 
 "That goes ! Drive ahead, parson." 
 
 So the parson took his text, and began to speak. He 
 did not attempt to express himself in a flowery manner, 
 but used simple language, and talked to the miners in a 
 friendly, confidential way, that quickly won their attention 
 and sympathy. 
 
 Among the listeners, Frank observed Wallace Coville 
 and Fabian Danglar. 
 
 The Frenchman seemed inclined to keep behind Co- 
 ville, and was almost constantly within reach of the mine 
 owner, although the latter did not seem to notice Danglar 
 at all. 
 
 Something led Frank to watch the two men, although he 
 was listening all the while to the parson's words. 
 
 The parson illustrated how easy it was to sin and travel 
 the wide road that leads to destruction. He told little
 
 Parson Peaceful. 239 
 
 stories and anecdotes that were applicable to whatever he 
 wished to impress upon his hearers, and, as some of his 
 stories were humorous, the rough men of the camp felt 
 well repaid for listening to him. 
 
 For some reason, the sermon sounded very peculiar to 
 Frank. It seemed all the while that the parson was beat- 
 ing around a certain object, yet drawing nearer and nearer 
 to it. Although it might be called a sermon, it was far 
 more like a lecture, and the man did not go into rhapso- 
 dies or attempt to get his hearers religiously enthused. 
 
 Finally, however, the sermon took a queer turn. The 
 parson sought to impress them that sin was on every 
 hand. 
 
 "Within the sound of my voice," he said, "within the 
 sight of my eyes, it is possible there are men who have 
 committed the greatest of sins. The betrayal of friend- 
 ship and confidence is a sin and a crime. Gold has lured 
 many a man to sell his soul and stain his hands with blood. 
 
 "Once there was a man who was trusted by another; 
 they were partners in a great enterprise. But one partner 
 betrayed the other sought his destruction. The unfor- 
 tunate one was buried deep in the darkness of a black cav- 
 ern, and there left to perish from hunger. He was not 
 killed outright, and through the cavern trickled a stream 
 of water, by the aid of which he lived many days. He suf- 
 fered the tortures of the damned, as he tore at the rocks 
 and earth with his bare, bleeding hands, frantically seek- 
 ing to dig his way out. He cried to his false partner to 
 come and set him free, to give him a morsel of food, or to 
 kill him. And the guilty one used to steal down into the 
 cavern, where, through a rift in the rocks, he could hear 
 the entombed wretch calling and shrieking, turning to a 
 maniac in the eternal darkness of his living tomb ! 
 
 "Think of it picture it ! Think of the heartless mon- 
 ster, as he crept down there, time after time, to listen to 
 the dying cries of the man who had befriended him, and 
 whom he had thus rewarded ! Each time those cries grew 
 weaker and more incoherent, and the dastardly betrayer 
 knew his victim was dying by inches. 
 
 "There was another, who suspected the truth, and he 
 followed the wretch down into the darkness of the cavern. 
 He heard the last faint cries of the doomed man, and,
 
 240 Parson Peaceful. 
 
 shuddering, quivering, sickened with horror, he sought to 
 flee from the place, and make public the knowledge he 
 had obtained. Fate was against him. He made a mis- 
 step in the darkness he fell, his head struck against a 
 rock, and he lay unconscious in the passage. There he 
 was found by the dastard, who knew he had been fol- 
 . lowed. Then the spy was dragged up through a rift in 
 the rocks, and cast into the living tomb with the first un- 
 fortunate. 
 
 "And now there were two to cry out in agony, to suffer 
 most horribly and die in the darkness. The wretch con- 
 tinued to creep down and listen. He heard the cries of 
 one cease; he heard the cries of the other grow fainter 
 and fainter, and finally he heard them no more. Then he 
 felt that both were dead, and his terrible secret was for- 
 ever buried in the heart of the earth. 
 
 "But such a fearful secret can never be safely buried. 
 It left its marks upon the murderer it streaked his hair 
 with gray, and it hardened and lined his face, changing it 
 fully. The memory of this crime is still doing its work 
 on that face. Day by day it is writing an awful word 
 there a word that all men may read. That word is 
 Murderer ! 
 
 "Can such a monster escape justice? No! The time 
 has come when all men may read the fearful secret in his 
 face ! Men of Powder Gap, that wretch is in your midst ! 
 Look around you look into one another's faces ! You 
 ,'icannot fail to detect the one on whose features the fearful 
 fword is branded !" 
 
 It is putting it mild to say that these words of the 
 peculiar parson created a sensation in the saloon. 
 
 Frank had been wondering at the strange turn which 
 the man's "sermon" had taken; but the ending was of a 
 most unexpected and sensational nature. 
 
 The listeners turned to stare at one another, looking 
 for the man whose face should betray his dreadful secret. 
 
 One man, with head bent down, moved toward the door, 
 his intention being to leave the place. 
 
 He ran fairly against Fabian Danglar, who, seemingly, 
 had taken pains to place himself in the man's way. 
 
 '"Sare," said the Frenchman, in a low, insinuating tone,
 
 Parson Peaceful. 241 
 
 "why ze vera great hurree? You hole your head down, 
 like you deed not want your face to be seen." 
 
 Wallace Coville was the man whom Danglar had 
 stopped, and a harsh exclamation came from the mine 
 owner's lips. 
 
 But the exclamation was broken in the midst, and, with 
 his eyes staring from their sockets, Coville fell back a step, 
 glaring like a hunted thing at Danglar. 
 
 The Frenchman stood straight as an Indian in the mine 
 owner's path, his right side toward Coville, his arms 
 folded, and an icy, chilling smile on his marble face. 
 
 "Mercy!" gasped the startled mine owner, lifting one 
 arm, as if to ward off a blow. 
 
 "What ees ze mattaire, sare?" asked Danglar. "You 
 look like you see the ghost." 
 
 "The face is that of No, no ! It cannot be !" 
 
 "You speak vera strange, sare. Is zere anyt'ing 'bout 
 my face zat f rightun you ?" 
 
 Coville pulled himself together, with a mighty effort. 
 
 "No, no !" he harshly cried. "It is nothing ! I thought 
 I had seen you before." 
 
 "Is zat all?" 
 
 "Yes, yes!" 
 
 "Zen, I must remaind you of some one zat you expec* 
 nevare to see again? Ees zat right?" 
 
 "Oh, I can't spend my time talking! I have remained 
 here too long already." 
 
 He attempted to pass Danglar, but the Frenchman 
 again blocked the way. 
 
 "Wait," he said, and Frank heard every word distinctly. 
 "I have somet'in zat I weesh to say to you, sare." 
 
 "I do not care to hear it ! Stand aside, or " 
 
 "Or what?" 
 
 Coville's hand went toward his hip pocket, his fingers 
 clutched the butt of a revolver, and he jerked the weapon 
 forth. 
 
 But he was given no chance to use it, for Fabian Dang- 
 lar was watching every move, and the Frenchman's iron 
 fingers closed in a crushing grip on Coville's wrist. 
 
 "Not zis evening, Mistaire Coville!" he said, in the 
 same calm, chilling tone. "I am reddee for zat bees- 
 ness \"
 
 242 Parson Peaceful. 
 
 Then he gave the mine owner's wrist such a twist that 
 Coville dropped the weapon, with a cry of pain. 
 
 "Zat ees a vera handsome revolvare, sare," observed 
 Danglar, as he placed a foot on the weapon. "Eet look 
 like eet might shoot vera well." 
 
 "It can !" grated Coville, "and it is liable to shoot well 
 enough to take your life ! You shall be called to account 
 for this!" 
 
 Danglar smiled, with a positive expression of pleasure. 
 
 "Zat would be most agreeable to me, Mistaire Coville. 
 You have but to name ze time and ze place. I geef you 
 zat privilege. I will name ze weapon." 
 
 "I have not challenged you." 
 
 "Zat ees ze trute ; but I eenfer zat you mean to do eet." 
 
 "I don't know. Why should I fight with anybody like 
 you? I do not know you." 
 
 "You theenk for one moment zat you deed, ha? You 
 be vera much frightun." 
 
 "Bah! I was surprised, that's all. Stand aside! 
 Duels are altogether different here than they are in 
 France. Here it is a case of shoot at sight, with no sec- 
 onds and no preliminaries." 
 
 "By zat do you mean you theenk you weel shoot at me 
 ze next time you see me ?" 
 
 "Why should I ? I will think it over." 
 
 Danglar picked up the revolver, which he unhesitatingly 
 passed to Coville, who received it with surprise. The 
 Frenchman did not seem at all afraid the mine owner 
 would attempt to use the weapon, and, if Coville had a 
 fleeting desire to do so, he quickly abandoned it, for those 
 coal-black eyes were full of warning. 
 
 Thrusting the revolver into his pocket, the mine owner 
 once more started for the door. 
 
 As the man passed, Danglar leaned forward, grasped 
 his arm, and whispered something in his ear. 
 
 A choking sound came from Coville's throat, and he 
 staggered, his face ghastly white. Then, flinging aside 
 any one who blocked his path, he leaped, like a frightened 
 hare, from the open doorway, and hurried down the street.
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 IN THE MINE. 
 
 Frank had seen enough to give him food for thought. 
 IWith the exception of the final words, which Danglar 
 whispered into Wallace Coville's ear, the boy had missed 
 scarcely anything that passed between the two men. 
 
 Others had seen and heard it all, and there were mutter- 
 ings and exclamations of wonder as Coville rushed away. 
 
 Those who remembered the mystery connected with 
 Jason Carter's disappearance spoke in low tones to others 
 about it, and many believed the parson had deliberately 
 aimed his words at Coville. 
 
 If Parson Peaceful had sought to kick up a sensation in 
 the Snow Flake, he had certainly succeeded very well. 
 
 But where was the parson ? 
 
 The men who had listened to his talk now began to look 
 around for him, as he had disappeared from the bar, and 
 was not to be seen. Nor could he be found in the place, 
 which made it evident that he had slipped away in the 
 midst of the excitement following the startling climax of 
 his remarks. 
 
 Frank had heard and seen enough. He touched 
 the professor's arm, he grasped Hans' wrist, and he spoke 
 a single word : 
 
 "Come." 
 
 Professor Scotch was ready enough to leave the place, 
 and Hans made no objection. 
 
 A few minutes later they were in their room at the 
 hotel. 
 
 "What do you make of all this ?" asked the professor, in 
 a puzzled way. "That was the queerest sermon I ever 
 heard, and then it seemed the man stopped by that French- 
 man was all wrought up over the parson's words. I 
 fancy there is something behind this affair something 
 We do not understand." 
 
 "It is something I mean to understand," assured Frank.
 
 244 1 the Mine. 
 
 "Professor, you wondered why I wished to come to the 
 Santa Catarina Mountains, and to Powder Gap. I will 
 tell you. I had reasons to believe I should find my father 
 in these mountains. You look astounded. I know my 
 father has been believed dead for years, but he was alive 
 six months ago. He owned a ring that would lead him to 
 a wonderfully rich mine amid these mountains. I believe 
 that mine is the Giant, now owned by Wallace Coville, 
 who was so wrought up by the parson's words to-night. 
 My father is not here! but I have good reason to believe 
 he was Wallace Coville's partner, known here as Jason 
 Carter. Carter mysteriously disappeared some time ago. 
 What became of him is not known. A man by the name 
 of George Bailey attempted to solve the mystery, and he 
 also disappeared. The words of Parson Peaceful to-night 
 have set me to thinking that the Giant Mine may hold the 
 secret of both disappearances. It is possible that my 
 father was buried alive in that mine, and that Bailey met 
 a similar fate. It is a horrible thing to contemplate, but I 
 fear it happened. If so, Coville is the guilty wretch, and 
 he shall not escape just retribution !" 
 
 Frank spoke with forced calmness, and Professor 
 Scotch listened in profound amazement. Then the pro- 
 fessor asked a hundred questions, all of which the boy 
 answered as best he could, giving the man a very good 
 understanding of the matter. 
 
 Far into the night they talked, while Hans, having 
 grown sleepy, slumbered quietly on the bed. 
 
 At length, the professor proposed to turn in, but Frank 
 did not feel like sleeping, and he sat by the window, think- 
 ing, thinking. 
 
 When the professor was fairly asleep, Frank rose, and 
 slipped from the room, leaving the hotel. 
 
 Powder Gap was not asleep. There were loungers 
 about the hotel, and the bar was doing a rushing business. 
 Every saloon was running at full blast, and the sound of 
 music and shuffling feet told that the rough men were en- 
 joying themselves in a way at the camp's one dance-hall. 
 
 Frank walked through the place, and approached the 
 building near the mouth of the Giant Mine. He felt him- 
 self drawn thither, as if by a loadstone. All at once, the 
 mine seemed to possess a remarkable fascination for him.
 
 In the Mine. 245 
 
 There was a bright moon, the light of which showed 
 him the black mouth of the mine, which yawned like the 
 jaws of some greedy monster that feeds on human flesh 
 and blood. He wondered if, somewhere far down in the 
 bowels of the monster, his father's corpse lay withering 
 in the living tomb to which a dastardly partner had con- 
 signed him. The thought turned the boy's blood to ice 
 water, and caused his heart to sink like a stone in his 
 bosom. 
 
 In the shadow of the buildings, he drew nearer to the 
 mouth of the mine, even though he felt a horror of the 
 place. He longed to enter and explore it, and yet the 
 thought was repugnant to him. 
 
 For a long time he stood in the shadow of one of the 
 buildings. At length he resolved to return to the hotel, 
 and he was turning away, when a moving figure caught 
 his attention. 
 
 A man was approaching, and Frank drew into the deep- 
 est shadow, waiting and watching. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the man, and the boy began to 
 feel that he must be seen. He made ready for such an 
 emergency, but, to his relief, the man passed on. 
 
 Then, for the first time, he noticed something familiar 
 about the figure, and, looking closer, he recognized the 
 man. It was Wallace Coville. 
 
 "What can have brought him here at this hour?" was 
 the question which flashed through Frank's mind. 
 
 Now keenly interested and curious, Frank watched 
 every movement of the mine owner. 
 
 Twice Coville stopped, and seemed on the point of turn- 
 ing back. He appeared to be fighting a battle with him- 
 self, and the watching lad fancied that he was also fasci- 
 nated by the mysterious and awesome power of the yawn- 
 ing mine, which was drawing him nearer and nearer, de- 
 spite his fears. 
 
 The spectacle caused Frank to shiver. 
 
 Close to the dark mouth of the mine Coville halted, 
 and the boy could hear him muttering to himself, but the 
 still night air did not carry the words to Frank's ears. 
 
 All at once, with a wild, despairing upflinging of his 
 arms, Coville plunged forward and disappeared into the 
 black mouth of the mine.
 
 246 In the Mine. 
 
 "Gone !" panted Frank. "It cannot be he is going far 
 in the darkness !" 
 
 Like a young panther, the lad darted forward, and 
 reached the shadow of a great bowlder close to the black 
 opening in the side of the mountain. There he crouched, 
 peering into the darkness, watching and waiting for 
 what? 
 
 Some moments passed, and every moment seemed an 
 hour. Once a faint sound seemed to come up to the ears 
 of the boy, and then all was deathly still once more. 
 
 Flash splutter flare; a light gleamed down in the 
 darkness. 
 
 "It's a miner's lamp," thought Frank. "Coville has 
 lighted it ! He is going down into the mine !" 
 
 He could see the man, and he saw that Coville was 
 really going down the slope. 
 
 "I'll follow him!" 
 
 It was a wild resolve, and Frank could not have told 
 why he thought of such a thing ; but the fascination of the 
 place was still upon him now stronger than ever and 
 he felt an irresistible desire to know why Wallace Coville 
 should visit the mine at that hour. 
 
 With the stealthy tread of a cat, Frank slipped swiftly 
 and noiselessly down the slope, keeping his eyes fastened 
 on the twinkling miner's lamp which Coville carried. That 
 light was the boy's guide, and he picked his way along 
 with wonderful silence. 
 
 Once a stone turned beneath Frank's foot, sending his 
 heart into his mouth, and causing Coville to halt and 
 listen. 
 
 The boy stood still as long as the man remained in a 
 listening attitude ; but Coville finally muttered something, 
 and moved onward and downward again. 
 
 Keeping between the rails of the car track, Frank con- 
 tinued to follow. 
 
 On they went, and the air began to seem close and dis- 
 agreeable. Frank filled his lungs with difficulty, feeling 
 as if the walls, which he could not see on either hand, 
 were pressing in upon him. 
 
 Finally, far down in the earth, deep in the heart of the 
 mountain, Coville came to a spot where an old shaft led off 
 from the main vein. A mass of rocks and earth had
 
 In the Mine. 247 
 
 fallen down there, where the timbers had failed to prevent 
 a partial cave in. Over these Coville climbed, and Frank 
 did not hesitate about following. Now that he had gone 
 thus far, the boy would not have allowed that gleaming 
 light to pass beyond his view for worlds. 
 
 Beyond the fallen mass the abandoned shaft zig-zagged 
 hither and thither in an eccentric manner, and Frank was 
 forced to keep yet nearer to the mine owner in order to 
 hold the light of the lamp constantly in view. 
 
 How far they went Frank had not the faintest idea, but 
 it seemed an interminable distance. Finally Coville ap- 
 proached a great mass of fallen earth and stone ap- 
 proached it hesitatingly, as if filled with awe and fear. 
 The mass blocked the entire passage, with the exception of 
 a small black opening far up at the roof of the chamber, 
 if chamber it might be called. 
 
 Coville was listening he was stealing toward the bar- 
 rier like a guilty thing. The lamp quivered in his hand, 
 and he seemed nearly overcome with his emotion. The 
 boy heard him mutter : 
 
 "Still all is still ! Not a sound comes Hark !" 
 
 Clink! clink! clink! 
 
 The sounds were faint, muffled, far away, and still they 
 were distinct. 
 
 They seemed like the blows of a pick. 
 
 The mine owner had straightened up, and stood like 
 an image of stone. 
 
 Man and boy were listening for a repetition of the 
 sounds. 
 
 Clink ! clink ! clink ! 
 
 There could be no mistake ; surely somebody was using 
 a pick beyond the barrier of earth and stone. 
 
 A grating groan startled Frank, but he instantly realized 
 that it came from the lips of Wallace Colville. 
 
 "Digging still digging !" 
 
 The words were spoken by the mine owner, and the boy 
 heard them distinctly. The voice was that of a man 
 Overcome by unutterable horror. 
 
 The sounds of the pick had ceased, and after listening 
 ome moments, Colville hoarsely whispered : 
 
 "He is dead both are dead! They died many weeks 
 ago, and yet they are digging, digging, digging! They
 
 248 
 
 In the Mine. 
 
 cannot rest they are determined to dig their way out! 
 Merciful heavens! Think think of two dead men wh* 
 have found a pick, and who are laboring to open a passage 
 that the world may come in and discover their bones! 
 But they shall not succeed !" he almost shrieked, waving 
 the lamp above his head. "I'll put in a dozen blasts, and 
 this branch shaft shall be filled with earth and stone, so 
 that they cannot dig their way out in a thousand years !" 
 
 Again Coville listened. 
 
 "Still all is still!" he harshly murmured. "Yet they 
 will not rest long. Night and day they are working te 
 open a passage that the world may come in and find 
 their bones ; but I will baffle them ha ! ha ! I will baf- 
 fle them ! 
 
 "But that infernal parson knows my secret! How he 
 knows it is more than I can tell, but know it he certainly 
 does. That seals his fate ! He shall die his bones shall 
 rot in an unmarked grave! He shall not bring me to 
 justice ! 
 
 "But the Frenchman may the fiends fly away with 
 him ! The Frenchman with the face of the dead, and eyes 
 that look one through and through ! Who is he ? I fear 
 that man ! I am sure he is a thousand times more danger- 
 ous than the parson ! They are marked, both of them ! 
 They cannot escape !" 
 
 Frank heard every word. 
 
 "The parson and the Frenchman shall know of this," 
 thought the boy. 
 
 Coville was looking upward toward the small, dark 
 opening. 
 
 "Shall I go up there shall I look into their tomb?" he 
 said, putting the question to himself. "Ah! but it can't 
 be done, for I closed the last opening when Bailey was 
 thrown in to keep Carter company. The place is sealed. 
 
 "How Carter struggled to reach the opening! But it 
 was impossible for him to mount to die spot. Now he is 
 dead! Yes, he is dead, but he will not rest. Until this 
 occurred I always believed a dead man disposed of; but 
 now I know the dead sometimes refuse to rest quietly in 
 their graves." 
 
 Having heard these words, there was now no longer a 
 doubt in Frank's mind concerning the fate of Jason Carter
 
 In the Mine. 249 
 
 and George Bailey. Colville was a wretch of the deepest 
 dye ; and had consigned Carter and Bailey to the most hor- 
 rible of fates, a lingering death by starvation in the dark- 
 ness of this underground tomb. 
 
 Frank felt that Wallace Coville was the most repug- 
 nant and fearful of criminals ; but he was rich and power- 
 ful, and it might be no easy thing to bring him to justice. 
 
 "Still, he shall not escape I swear it!" was the mental 
 , vow registered by the determined lad. 
 
 Coville seemed on the point of turning away, yet he 
 lingered near the spot, as if held there by some powerful 
 fascination. He listened, with the lamp held aloft, and the 
 boy saw him press a hand over his heart, as if to silence its 
 tumultuous throbbing. 
 
 And then the sound of the pick was heard once more. 
 
 "Dig dig away !" screamed Coville, as if suddenly 
 overcome by his emotion. "When you dig out I will have 
 been dead and gone a thousand years !" 
 
 Barely had the last words left his lips when another 
 voice was heard, faint, muffled, appearing to come from 
 beyond the barrier of stone and earth, but speaking every 
 word plainly : 
 
 "Your time is near, Wallace Coville! The sword of 
 justice is suspended by a single hair above your head, and 
 it is soon to fall ! There is no escape for you !" 
 
 The mine owner reeled backward, nearly dropping the 
 
 lamp, gasping for breath, and clutching at the empty air. 
 
 It seemed that he had been struck a staggering blow full 
 
 in the face. For a moment he swayed weakly, his legs 
 
 ' threatening to melt beneath him. The light of the lamp 
 
 revealed his face to Frank, who never forgot the look of 
 
 unspeakable horror depicted there. 
 
 Frank, being something of a ventriloquist, had spoken 
 the words, making them appear to come from behind the 
 fallen mass of earth and stone. 
 
 Coville's nerve was completely shattered. As soon as 
 he could recover, he uttered a wild cry of terror, and then 
 fled screaming from the spot. 
 
 In passing, the man fairly brushed against Frank, yet 
 he was so blinded by fear, that he did not see the lad 
 at all. 
 
 Along the winding passage fled the mine owner, cling-
 
 250 In the Mine. 
 
 ing to the lamp, without the aid of which he could not 
 hope to make his way directly to the surface. 
 
 "I must not lose sight of that light," muttered Frank, as 
 he started after the man. "If I do, I'll not get out of here 
 to-night." 
 
 Like a terrified hare, the man fled on. Sometimes he 
 ran into some jagged projection of the passage, some- 
 times he stumbled and fell, but he bounded up in a 
 twinkling and continued the mad run. 
 
 Frank found he had no easy task to keep the terrified 
 wretch in view. 
 
 As they passed into the main shaft, Colville seemed to 
 hear the sound of pursuing feet, and he looked back, 
 catching a glimpse of the boy's dark form. 
 
 "They're coming coming!" screamed the miserable 
 creature, and he renewed his speed. 
 
 Up the long slope to the mouth of the mine the man ran, 
 with a speed that fairly amazed Frank, who was taxed to 
 the utmost to keep the twinkling lamp in view, and Frank 
 was a most excellent runner himself, having remarkable 
 endurance. 
 
 At length the surface was reached, and, flinging aside 
 the lamp, Coville fled through the moonlight, as though 
 the foul fiend were at his very heels. 
 
 A moment later Frank came panting from the mine and 
 rushed headlong upon a moving form, which he mechan- 
 ically clutched with both hands. 
 
 "Gitte lout !" screamed a familiar voice. "Lette glo, or 
 gitte plunchee !" 
 
 It was Sing Lee, the Chinaman. 
 
 Not a little surprised, Frank held fast to the squirming 
 Celestial, demanding: 
 
 "What are you doing here?" 
 
 "Sing Lee nebber do a tling," was the earnest pro- 
 test. "Lette glo, Melican bloy !" 
 
 "Wait a minute ; I want to talk to you." 
 
 "Sing Lee no want to tlalkee." 
 
 "That may be true, but you will find it necessary to 
 talk before I let you go." 
 
 Frank's curiosity was aroused, and he was determined 
 the Chinaman should tell just how he happened to be 
 there at that time of night.
 
 In the Mine. 251 
 
 "Melican bloy bely glood ; no hurtee Sing Lee ?" 
 
 "Not if you answer my questions, and tell the truth." 
 
 "No savvy blout tluth." 
 
 "I haven't a doubt but the truth is something you know 
 very little about, but you had better stick to it just about 
 now, for I am a bad fellow to lie to." 
 
 The Chinaman was silent. 
 
 "Now tell me just why you are prowling around here 
 at this hour of the night." 
 
 "No have place to sleepee." 
 
 "No place to sleep?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "And you were looking for a place around here?" 
 
 "Tlought mebbe flind one." 
 
 "Well, this is a strange place to look for anything of 
 that sort. Why didn't you find a place in the camp?" 
 
 "No havee Chinaman in campee. Tlell him to glitee lout 
 heapee qlick, of gitte klick lout. Offal to play monee ; no 
 keepe Sing Lee flor twenty-flive dollal. Tlell Sing Lee 
 to glo to hotee place down in gloundee, so dome lound 
 tlo see if this was place where gitee in. Savvy ?" 
 
 "I savvy that you are giving me a great jolly, Sing, and 
 it doesn't go a little. I told you it would be best to tell 
 the truth, but you do not seem to think so." 
 
 "Alus tlell tluth. Sing Lee lashun to Glolge Wlash- 
 ingtlon allee samee gleat lot." 
 
 Frank could not hold back a faint laugh, and the Ce- 
 lestial grinned in the moonlight. 
 
 All at once, the Chinaman gave a squirm and a twist, 
 broke away from Frank and took to his heels. 
 
 As Sing was escaping, Frank made a clutch at him, 
 grasped something, and held fast. 
 
 The strange Chinaman fled on, and the boy stood star- 
 ing in petrified amazement at the thing that dangled in his 
 grasp. 
 
 "It was Sing Lee's queue.
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 HELD AT BAY. 
 
 
 
 "Great Scott!" 
 
 Frank stared in unutterable wonder at the thing which 
 he held in his hand. 
 
 It was the Chinaman's cue, but it took Frank some 
 time to realize that it was false. 
 
 ''Never knew hair to come out by the roots so easy 
 before this !" he murmured. 
 
 Then, after examining it, he quickly decided : 
 
 "Sing Lee is a fraud ! This cue is very neatly made up, 
 but the hair never grew on the head of a Chinaman. If 
 Sing's cue is false, why not other things about him?" 
 
 Following this came a most startling thought : 
 
 "I'll wager my life the fellow is not a Chinaman at all !" 
 
 If not a Chinaman, then what was he? Frank asked 
 himself the question, and he felt puzzled and mystified be- 
 yond measure. 
 
 If the Celestial was in disguise, surely the disguise was 
 most perfect. Up to the moment that Frank had discov- 
 ered the cue to be false, he had not suspected the fellow of 
 j being anything but just what he seemed, a Chinaman. 
 j Surely, there was a reason why the man should disguise 
 himself in such a manner, and the boy began to see that 
 there was something behind his movements besides a 
 mere desire to pick up "washee-washee" business. 
 
 Frank might have fancied himself dreaming, but the 
 cue was in his hand to prove it was no hallucination. 
 
 Surely the events of the day and night had been of a 
 most surprising and unexpected nature. 
 
 And now 
 
 "The Chinaman is gone," muttered Frank; "and judg- 
 ing by the way he ran, there is little chance of seeing him 
 again to-night. I will keep this scalp; the fellow may 
 call for it to-morrow."
 
 Held at Bay. 253 
 
 There was no reason for lingering longer in the vicinity 
 of the mine, and so he made his way toward the hotel. 
 
 His mind was in a tumult, and he wondered beyond 
 
 measure at all he had seen and heard. Now he knew 
 
 beyond the shadow of a doubt what fate had befallen 
 
 | Jason Carter and George Bailey. He knew that Wallace 
 
 Coville, the rich and powerful mine owner, was a betrayer 
 
 of friendship, a dastardly wretch, and a murderer. 
 
 But the sound of the pick behind the barrier of rock and 
 earth what had been the meaning of it ? Surely, neither 
 of the men entombed in that dreadful place could be living 
 and striving to dig a way out ?" 
 
 The thought that this was possible flitted through 
 Frank's mind, but he banished it almost instantly. 
 
 "They were entombed there many weeks ago. It is an 
 utter impossibility that either should still be alive. They 
 could not subsist on water, even if they found enough of 
 that. No, no ! both men are dead ! but the sound of the 
 pick what did it mean?" 
 
 Frank was not superstitious; he did not believe in 
 ghosts. Not for a moment would he accept the belief of 
 Wallace Coville that the murdered men could not rest in 
 their tomb, and were laboring to open a passage that the 
 world might come in and find their bones. 
 
 Still, there was something about the sounds of the pick 
 that Frank could not understand something mysterious 
 and awesome. He was glad to get away from the mine, 
 which had seemed to weave a spell about him had fasci- 
 nated and horrified him. 
 
 When the boy remembered the expression of horror and 
 fear on the face of Wallace Coville at the moment when 
 the mine owner believed he had heard the voice of one of 
 his victims, Frank shivered and was sick at heart. Still 
 he could not pity the wretch ; still he felt no merciful in- 
 clination for the dastardly murderer. 
 
 Frank fancied that the meshes of a snare were drawing 
 tighter and tighter about the guilty man. Coville had 
 thought his secret safely buried in the heart of the earth, 
 where there was no danger that it would ever be brought 
 to the light of day. Then came accusers crowding thickly 
 about him ; first the son of the partner he had betrayed, 
 then * wandering parson who told his horrible secret to
 
 1 54 Held at Bay. 
 
 the public, to be followed quickly by a fiery-eyed French- 
 man, with snowy hair and the face of the dead. 
 
 But most horrible of all had sounded the blood-chilling 
 words which he heard in the abandoned shaft of the mine 
 the shaft of death. Those words had seemed to come 
 directly from the lips of one of his victims. 
 
 Right well Frank knew there would be little sleep for 
 Wallace Coville that night. 
 
 Nor did the feverish lad believe he could close his eyes 
 in slumber, for the thoughts running riot in his brain were 
 of a nature that chilled him at one moment and filled all 
 his veins with burning heat at the next. 
 
 Frank went back to the hotel. Hans and the Professor 
 were sleeping, but Frank sat by the window and looked 
 cut into the street of the mining town. 
 
 The moon was drifting over to the west, and the saloons 
 of the camp were closing. The last dance had been reeled 
 to the finish in Powder Gap's dance hall, and drunken 
 miners were singing and shouting on their way to their 
 wretched homes. From the farther end of the town came 
 the sudden, sharp sounds of pistol shots and hoarse cries. 
 Frank wondered if a human being had been shot, or if 
 some intoxicated fellow had discharged his revolver into 
 the air. 
 
 At last, tired of sitting at the window, the tumult of his 
 mind having ceased in a measure, he resolved to go to bed. 
 
 Although the last to bed, Frank was the first to rise in 
 the morning. He did not disturb his companions, but 
 went out for a walk, hoping the morning air would clear 
 his brain and make him feel better. 
 
 Frank returned in time for breakfast at the hotel, and 
 found the professor and Hans not a little worried about 
 him. They were greatly relieved by his appearance. 
 
 "How you vos, Vrankie?" called the jolly Dutch boy. 
 "I didn't know but you peen carrit off der pedpugs by." 
 
 "I guess not. There are things more formidable than 
 bedbugs in this town." 
 
 "Yaw; dot peen so. Look ad der brofessor, und seen 
 uf his nose don'd proof dot." 
 
 Professor Scotch's nose was terribly swollen and in- 
 flamed, and the little man looked the picture of misery. 
 
 "This life in the wild and woolly west is altogether too
 
 Held at Bay. 255 
 
 swift for me," he said, dolefully. "I shall be glad when 
 we get back to civilization." 
 
 The breakfast at the New York Hotel might have been 
 worse ; but then, it might have been much better. How- 
 ever, the little party was hungry, and each one ate heartily. 
 The professor drank three cups of rank black coffee, and 
 then declared that he felt much better. 
 
 Almost the first person Frank saw after leaving the din- 
 ing-room of the hotel was Fabian Dangler. 
 
 The remarkable Frenchman looked fresh and clean as 
 he smoked a fragrant cigar in front of the hotel, his keen 
 black eyes closely regarding every one who passed. 
 
 The moment this man saw Frank, he saluted and bowed 
 with extreme politeness. 
 
 "Bon Jour, monsieur," he called. "Ze vera pleasont 
 morneeng, saire." 
 
 Frank paused to speak with the man, and then, all at 
 once, he was seized with an irresistable desire to tell Dang- 
 ler about his adventure in the Giant Mine. This desire 
 grew stronger and stronger, and, almost before he was 
 aware what he was doing, Frank found himself relating 
 the story. 
 
 Dangler listened with intense eagerness, his interest and 
 excitement growing with each moment. When Frank 
 had finished, the hand of the strange Frenchman fell on 
 the boy's arm. 
 
 "We must act without delay," he swiftly said. "Zat 
 man, he mean to block up ze old shaft. He must not do 
 eet." 
 
 "You are right," cried Frank. "I must know if the 
 bones of my father rest in that chamber ! Must know it ? 
 I know it already! They must be brought forth and 
 given decent burial." 
 
 "And ze murderer what of heem?" 
 
 "Must be punished !" 
 
 "Oui, oui, oui! Zat ees raight! But he will defeat us 
 eef we do not move wiz ze vera great haste." 
 
 "What is to be done?" 
 
 "What I do, I do myself, You must find ze parzone 
 ze one zat be called Parzone Peesful. Tell him queek all 
 zat you know. Tell heem not to let ze pazzage be closed.
 
 Held at Bay. 
 
 fois! Zere is not one moment to lose! Ze parzone 
 will know what to do." 
 
 "But you " 
 
 Dangler was already bounding away, and five minutes 
 later, mounted on a coal-black horse, he rode furiously out 
 of Powder Gap. 
 
 Frank had some difficulty in finding the parson, but 
 the man was found at last, and the boy hurriedly told him 
 everything. 
 
 'The wicked shall escape not the wrath that is in store," 
 declared Parson Peaceful, resolutely. It will take me 
 some minutes to gather my supporters, but we will pene- 
 trate the mine and explore the abandoned shaft. Coville 
 shall be prevented from closing it. 
 
 "Unless he gets the start of us, which he may do," said 
 Frank, who was possessed with a fever of anxiety. 
 
 "I will do my best to prevent that." 
 
 Then the parson rushed away. From one man to 
 another of the citizens he quickly passed, saying a single 
 word to each, and soon a band of rough, determined-look- 
 ing fellows began to gather near the New York Hotel. 
 
 Frank could not wait for all this. To him it seemed 
 that things were progressing far too slowly. Hans and 
 the professor tried to question him, but he refused to be 
 bothered by them, and rushed away, they knew not 
 whither. 
 
 Some hint of what was going on must have reached 
 Wallace Coville. The mine owner had not appeared at 
 his office as early as usual, but he was finally seen hurry- 
 ing toward the mouth of the mine, carrying something in 
 his hand. 
 
 At the same time a party of men, headed by Parson 
 Peaceful, came rushing toward the mine from the direc- 
 tion of the town. 
 
 But there was no chance for them to intercept Co'ville. 
 
 Down a rugged path from a point where he had been 
 hidden above the mouth of the mine leaped and bounded 
 a queer figure a queueless Chinaman. The Celestial 
 seemed determined to intercept Coville in some way, but 
 he saw he would not be in time to block the mine owner's 
 path with his body, so he drew a revolver, and cried : 
 
 "Halt! Stop where you are, Jack Larkins! I know
 
 Held at Bay. 257 
 
 you, and you know me. I am Dash Wylde, and I want 
 you for the Coburg bank robbery !" 
 
 "Dash Wylde!" grated Coville, glaring up at the ad- 
 vancing man "Dash Wylde, the detective ! And 1 
 thought him a Chinaman ! He is a dead shot, and he will 
 drop me before I can plunge into the mouth of the mine !" 
 
 Then he lifted the cylinder-shaped thing which he car- 
 ried in his hand, and shouted : 
 
 "Halt, you infernal bloodhound ! This is dynamite 
 which I hold above my head, and it will explode if it falls 
 to the ground ! It is heavy enough to tear out tons of 
 earth from the side of this mountain, to blow us both to 
 eternity ! If you shoot, it will fall ; if you come nearer, I 
 will fling it at you !" 
 
 The detective halted. 
 
 But the men from Powder Gap, headed by the parson 
 were coming on, and Coville cried to them : 
 
 "Stop ! Stop, or, by the eternal skies, I will blow yo* 
 all into eternity !" 
 
 Thus he held them at bay.
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED. CONCLUSION. 
 
 From a place of concealment behind a bowlder, neat 
 the mouth of the mine, rose a boy Frank Merriwell. 
 
 He was directly behind Wallace Coville's back, and he 
 swiftly made a cautioning gesture to those who saw him. 
 
 Inch by inch, step by step, with the silence and caution 
 of a creeping cat, Frank stole upon the man. 
 
 The spectators held their breath and watched, fearing 
 Coville would turn and see the lad. 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha !" laughed the desperate and defiant mine 
 owner. "You know my power, and you dare not ap- 
 proach me ! If I were to drop this to the ground, I would 
 not be the only one to suffer. Some of you would be 
 maimed or killed. If you were nearer, death would be 
 certain !" 
 
 "Look here, brother," said the parson, by way of keep- 
 ing Coville's attention, "why resort to such desperate ex- 
 pedients ? We seek but to visit your mine." 
 
 ''For what reason? You cannot deceive me ! Not one 
 of you shall enter the mine !" 
 
 Frank was close behind the desperate villain. He 
 measured the distance with his eyes, and then made a leap 
 and a grab. 
 
 Only too well did Frank realize what would happen if 
 he failed in his purpose. The dynamite bomb would fall, 
 the explosion would follow, and he would suffer instant 
 death with Wallace Coville. 
 
 His hand darted through the air, and he clutched the 
 deadly thing with which the mine owner had held the men 
 at bay. In the twinkling of an eye it was torn from Co- 
 Ville's fingers, and then 
 
 Crack ! 
 
 Frank struck the man with all his strength, plant- 
 ing the blow behind Coville's ear, and the villain dropped 
 like a log.
 
 The Mystery Explained. 259 
 
 Down the steep leaped Dash Wylde, and, with a cheer, 
 the parson and his followers rushed forward. 
 
 Dazed and furious, Coville tried to struggle up, tried to 
 draw a weapon, only to find himself clutched by strong 
 hands, and hear the voice of the detective cry : 
 
 "These wristlets will fit you very nicely, Larkins." 
 
 Click snap manacles closed upon the wrists of the 
 miserable wretch, making him secure. 
 
 "This is what I call very providential," said the par- 
 son, as he came up. 
 
 "Providential! Humbug!" came from the detective. 
 "There was nothing providential about it. It was a case 
 of clean pluck on the part of this boy. Not one lad in 
 ten thousand would have dared to creep up behind the 
 man and snatch at the bomb. Failure to catch it from 
 the man's fingers meant death in the twinkling of an eye. 
 Providence! It was the cleanest case of nerve I have 
 seen in a long time." 
 
 "Dot vos noddings Vrank Merrivell for," loftily as- 
 sured Hans Dunnerwust, who was one of the party from 
 the camp. "Dose vos der d'ings vot he do for der fun 
 uf id." 
 
 "Put down that bomb put it down, Frank !" cried Pro- 
 fessor Scotch. "I want to shake hands with you, but I 
 won't come nearer as long as you hold that in your hand." 
 
 The bomb was given to a man who promised to take 
 care of it, and then the delighted professor clasped the 
 boy in his arms. 
 
 Coville glared at Frank. 
 
 "You have done the very thing I knew you would !" he 
 grated, with impotent rage. "You have brought about 
 my destruction. When I first saw you, I felt sure you 
 were a dangerous and deadly enemy, even though you 
 are but a boy." 
 
 "You shall have due credit for all you have done in 
 aiding me to capture this notorious bank robber," said 
 Dash Wylde. 
 
 "I am not looking for glory," was Frank's sober as- 
 sertion. "I wish to avenge my father, who suffered 
 through the dastardly perfidy of this man." 
 
 "If your father were living, he would have cause to 
 be proud of such a son. This man, who has been known
 
 260 The Mystery Explained. 
 
 here as Wallace Coville, is one of the most notorious 
 bank-breakers. He knows me well, and so, when I 
 started to run him down for his last job, I was forced to 
 assume a disguise. But he has changed in an astonish- 
 ing manner since I saw him last, and, at first, I was not 
 sure that he could be Jack Larkins. I have been watch- 
 ing him since coming into town. I had been watching 
 him last night when you came upon me. I fancied you 
 believed Sing Lee was not a Chinaman, and so I broke 
 away from you; but you caught my queue, and I left it 
 in your hands." 
 
 "Thereby surprising me very much." 
 
 It was now proposed that the captive should be taken 
 down into the mine. At first the detective did not ap- 
 prove of this, but Parson Peaceful drew him aside and 
 gained his consent. 
 
 Dejected, listless, limp, and weak, Coville allowed 
 them to do as they desired. 
 
 The miners were astonished by what had taken place, 
 but no one attempted to interfere. 
 
 Lamps were procured, and the entire party entered 
 the mouth of the mine and descended the slope. 
 
 At last the captive seemed to realize what was taking 
 place, and he began to show symptoms of agitation as 
 they approached the abandoned shaft. When they were 
 on the point of turning into the shaft, he halted and re- 
 fused to go farther. 
 
 "I will not go there !" he declared. 
 
 But he was forced to accompany them, although his 
 agitation and fear increased with each moment. 
 
 Finally the barrier was reached, and there they halted. 
 At this point the prisoner braced up, forcing a harsh 
 laugh, and sneering: 
 
 "Well, now that you have dragged me down here, I 
 hope you are satisfied ! What have you found to please 
 you?" 
 
 "We have found the place where you bury your vic- 
 tims," said the parson, solemnly ; "but the grave shall give 
 up its dead." 
 
 The manacled man fell back a bit, and then once more 
 forced a laugh. 
 
 "What are you trying to do frighten me?"
 
 The Mystery Explained. 261 
 
 The parson lifted one hand. 
 
 "Listen!" 
 
 Click! click! click! 
 
 It was the sound of a pick, and it seemed to come 
 from beyond the barrier which filled the passage. 
 
 The prisoner began to tremble, seeking to draw still 
 farther from the spot. 
 
 A deathlike hush came over the party, and they could 
 distinctly hear the steady blows of the pick. 
 
 Of a sudden, the silence was broken by the prisoner, 
 who struggled to break away, shrieking : 
 
 "Let me go! He is digging out! He is coming! I 
 can feel him coming nearer, nearer, nearer! I can feel 
 his cold, dead hand at my throat ! He is strangling me !" 
 
 The wretch choked and grew black in the face, but 
 Dash Wylde pounded him upon the back, and he finally 
 breathed more freely, but he was so weak that it was 
 necessary to hold him upon his feet. 
 
 "I told you the grave should give up its dead," said 
 the solemn voice of the parson. "Behold it shall come 
 true. Look, look ! The barrier falls !" 
 
 The final blows of the pick were heard, and the wall 
 that blocked the passage was seen to move, a great bowlder 
 and mass of earth sunk inward, leaving a large opening. 
 
 Wondering and spellbound, the men stared at this 
 opening, with the prisoner now upright and rigid, as if 
 turned to stone. 
 
 Something moved in the darkness beyond. the range 
 of the lamps, and then through the opening slowly came 
 the form of a man. Down over the mass of earth and 
 stone he stepped, keeping his dark eyes fairly on the man 
 with manacles on his wrist. 
 
 Frank reeled in his tracks, gasping : 
 
 "Father it is my father!" 
 
 "It's Jason Carter !" shrieked the prisoner. 
 
 And then, with a rattling sound in his throat, he fell 
 limply into the detective's arms. 
 
 Dash lowered the man to the ground fanned him, tore 
 open his shirt at the throat, felt of his pulse, felt of his 
 heart, and then cried : 
 
 "He is dead ! Jack Larkins will never do time for the 
 Coburg Bank robbery!"
 
 262 The Mystery Explained. 
 
 "It is the hand of justice !" sounded solemnly from the 
 lips of the man who had come through the opening. "The 
 wages of sin is death, and he has suffered for his many 
 crimes." 
 
 It is Carter !" shouted one of the miners, in the greatest 
 wonder. "It's Carter alive !" 
 
 "Now," said another, "if George Bailey were to ap- 
 pear- 
 
 "George Bailey is here !" 
 
 It was the parson who spoke. 
 
 "My friends," he continued, "the removal of my beard 
 and my efforts at disguising my voice has deceived every 
 one. I am no parson, but I am the man who started to 
 find Jason Carter, dead or alive." 
 
 "And you found him alive?" 
 
 "Yes. I was thrust into his tomb thrust in there by 
 Coville, who closed the last opening, which was far above 
 Carter's reach. Carter was nearly dead. With a pick, 
 which he had discovered, he had been trying to dig his 
 way out. I went at the task, trying all the walls. One of 
 them sounded hollow, and a few hours' work enabled 
 me to force a way through into a great cavern. Hope 
 returned to Carter, and we sought a way of getting out 
 to the world. I will not tell of all our sufferings and our 
 wanderings. We finally made our way out to a distant 
 side of the mountain; but Carter was changed to an old 
 man with snowy hair and ghastly face, besides being 
 nearly dead from want of nourishment. We obtained 
 shelter and food at the hut of old Injun Joe, and Carter 
 did not die, although he came very near it. When his 
 strength returned, we re-explored the cave. We found 
 a little stream, at the bottom of which were golden nug- 
 gets, and we made our way back to the place where Co- 
 ville had entombed us to die. Then our plan for re- 
 venge was perfected. Carter had changed so that, by 
 shaving off part of his beard, it was believed he would 
 not be known. I was also changed, and I disguised my- 
 self. We hired Injun Joe and two other men to con- 
 stantly dig within the place where we were supposed to 
 be entombed. We did some work ourselves, believing 
 we could open a passage into this shaft. At length, by 
 careful work, we had everything ready, so a few strokes
 
 The Mystery Explained. 263 
 
 of the pick would make the opening. Still we kept the 
 men picking, although careful not to break through, 
 knowing that Coville sometimes came here and listened 
 It was part of our plan to fill his heart with terror. 
 Carter had a beard and wig prepared to make him look 
 as he appeared before being entombed here, and then we 
 appeared in Powder Gap. When he learned that Coville 
 was likely to fill the old shaft with explosives, he lost no 
 time in taking a horse and riding round the mountain, 
 hurrying through the cave, and being ready to appear if 
 things worked right. They worked all right, and he ap- 
 peared." 
 
 "Then," cried a wondering listener, "Carter must have 
 appeared in Powder Gap as " 
 
 "As Fabian Danglar, the Frenchman," said the man 
 himself, removing the wig and beard. 
 
 A few words more and we will bring our story to a 
 close. 
 
 Frank Merriwell's father, Charles Carter Merriwell, 
 was alive, and his false partner, Wallace Coville, alias 
 Jack Larkins, was dead. Every mystery in connection 
 with the most remarkable affair had been explained, but 
 Powder Gap did not get over its wonderment for a week. 
 
 In that place Charles Merriwell continued to be known 
 as Jason Carter. It was his choice. To Frank he said: 
 
 "Some day I may choose to be known as Charles Mer- 
 riwell ; but that time has not come. For the present, you 
 are well fixed, and I heartily approve of my brother's 
 scheme for the perfection of your education. Continue 
 your travels, my son, and let me hear from you occa- 
 sionally." 
 
 So Frank continued to travel, as Asher Merriwell had 
 designated by his will, and some of his future adventures 
 will be related in the next volume of this series, entitled : 
 "Frank Merriwell Down South." For the time being 
 all went well, and here let us shake him by the hand and 
 say farewell. 
 
 THE END.
 
 BEST OF ALL BOYS' BOOKS 
 
 THE FAMOUS 
 
 Frank Merriwell Stories 
 
 By BURT L. STANDISH 
 
 No modern series of tales for boys and youths has 
 met with anything like the cordial reception and popu- 
 larity accorded to the Frank Merriwell Stories. 
 
 There must be a reason for this and there is. Frank 
 Merriwell, as portrayed by the author, is a jolly, whole- 
 souled, honest, courageous American lad, who appeals 
 to the hearts of the boys. He has no bad habits, and 
 his manliness inculcates the idea that it is not necessary 
 for a boy to indulge in petty vices to be a hero. Frank 
 Merriwell's example is a shining light for every ambitious 
 lad to follow. 
 
 Twenty-four volumes ready 
 
 Frank Merriwell's School Days Frank Merriwell's Skill 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Chums Frank Merriwell's Champions 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Foes Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Trip West Frank Merriwell's Secret 
 
 Frank Merriwell Down South Frank Merriwell's Loyalty 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Bravery Frank Merriwell's Reward 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Races Frank Merriwell's Faith 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Hunting Tour Frank Merriwell's Victories 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Sports Afield Frank Merriwell's Power 
 
 Frank Merriwell at Yale Frank Merriwell's Set-Back 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Courage Frank Merriwell's False Friend 
 
 Frank Merriwell's Daring Frank Merriwell's Brother 
 
 Illustrated, cloth binding, 5O cents per volume 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price 
 by the publisher 
 
 DAVID McKAY, Philadelphia 
 
 (i)
 
 THE MOTOR POWER SERIES 
 
 Donald Grayson's Famous 
 Motor Stories for Boys ^ 
 
 Mr. Grayson is an accomplished writer of up-to-the- 
 minute juvenile stories which are eagerly read by 
 modern American lads. 
 
 In his new series, his characters have exciting adven- 
 tures with every kind of motor-driven machines motor 
 cycles, automobiles, aeroplanes and submarines. 
 
 You may readily see what a vast field for adventures 
 Mr. Grayson has chosen. 
 
 Now Ready 
 
 BOB STEELE'S MOTOR CYCLE 
 
 BOB STEELE ON HIGH GEAR 
 
 BOB STEELE FROM AUTO TO AIRSHIP 
 
 BOB STEELE AFLOAT IN THE CLOUDS 
 
 BOB STEELE'S SUBMARINE CRUISE 
 
 BOB STEELE IN STRANGE WATERS 
 
 BOB STEELE'S MOTOR BOAT 
 
 BOB STEELE'S WINNING RACE 
 
 BOB STEELE'S NEW AEROPLANE 
 
 BOB STEELE'S LAST FLIGHT 
 
 Illustrated, cloth binding 1 , 5O cents per volume 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price 
 by the publisher 
 
 DAVID McKAY, Philadelphia 
 
 (2)
 
 BOYS OF LIBERTY LIBRARY 
 
 NEW SERIES of splendid tales of the wonderful and 
 stirring adventures of boys who fought in The Revolu- 
 tionary War, The French and Indian Wars, and Naval 
 Battles of 1812. 
 
 The stories are written in an intensely interesting style, and no 
 boy can read them without being aroused to the highest pitch of 
 patriotic enthusiasm. 
 
 We give herewith a list of titles now ready. Read the first and 
 you will want to read all the others. I2mo. Cloth, handsomely 
 bound. 
 
 PAUL REVERE. By John De Morgan. 
 
 THE FIRST SHOT FOR LIBERTY. By John De Morgan. 
 
 FOOLING THE ENEMY. By John De Morgan. 
 
 INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH. By John De Morgan. 
 
 THE HERO OF TICONDEROGA. By John De Morgan. 
 
 ON TO QUEBEC. By John De Morgan. 
 
 FIGHTING HAL. By John De Morgan. 
 
 MARION AND HIS MEN. By John De Morgan. 
 
 THE YOUNG AMBASSADOR. By John De Morgan. 
 
 THE YOUNG GUARDSMAN. By John De Morgan. 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE LIVELY BEE. By John De Morgan. 
 
 THE TORY PLOT. By T. C. Harbaugh. 
 
 IN BUFF AND BLUE. By T. C. Harbaugh. 
 
 WASHINGTON'S YOUNG SPY. By T. C. Harbaugh. 
 
 UNDER GREENE'S BANNER. By T. C. Harbaugh. 
 
 FOR FREEDOM'S CAUSE. By T. C. Harbaugh. 
 
 CAPTAIN OF THE MINUTE MEN. By Harrie Irving Hancock. 
 
 THE QUAKER SPY. By Lieut. Lounsberry. 
 
 FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM. By Lieut. Lounsberry. 
 
 BY ORDER OF THE COLONEL. By Lieut. Lounsberry. 
 
 A CALL TO DUTY. By Lieut. Lounsberry. 
 
 IN GLORY'S VAN. By Lieut. Lounsberry. 
 
 THE TRADER'S CAPTIVE. By Lieut. Lounsberry. 
 
 THE YOUNG PATRIOT. By Lieut. Lounsberry. 
 
 " OLD PUT " THE PATRIOT. By Frederick A. Ober. 
 
 THE LEAGUE OF FIVE. By Commander Post. 
 
 THE KING'S MESSENGER. By Capt. Frank Ralph. 
 
 DASHING PAUL JONES. By Frank Sheridan. 
 
 FROM MIDSHIPMAN TO COMMODORE. By Frank Sheridan. 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ESSEX. By Frank Sheridan. 
 
 LAND HERO OF 1812. By C. C. Hotchkiss. 
 
 FOLLOWING MAD ANTHONY. By T. C. Harbaugh. 
 
 THE YOUNG CAPTAINS. By T. C. Harbaugh. 
 
 CAMPAIGNING WITH BRADDOCK. By William Murray Graydon. 
 
 Price, 5O cents per volume 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price 
 by the publisher 
 
 DAVID McKAY, Philadelphia 
 
 (3)
 
 THE ROB RANGER SERIES 
 
 By LIEUT. LIONEL LOUNSBERRY 
 
 healthy boys could well be imagined. 
 
 ROB RANGER'S MINE, or THE BOY WHO GOT THERE. By Lieut. 
 
 Lionel Lounsberry. 
 ROB RANGER THE YOUNG RANCHMAN, or GOING IT ALONE AT 
 
 LOST RIVER. By Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry. 
 ROB RANGER'S COWBOY DAYS, or THE YOUNG HUNTER OF THE 
 
 BIG HORN. By Lieut. Lionel Lounsberry. 
 
 Price, 5O cents per volume 
 
 THE CIRCUS SERIES 
 
 BY 
 
 STANLEY NORRIS VICTOR ST. CLAIR 
 
 Where is there a boy who does not love a circus and who does not also love to take 
 a peep "behind the scenes" of the great white canvas? There are adventures galore, 
 enough to satisfy any healthy youngster. 
 
 PHIL THE SHOWMAN, or LIFE IN THE SAWDUST RING. By 
 
 Stanley Norris. 
 YOUNG SHOWMAN'S RIVALS, or UPS AND DOWNS OF THE ROAD. 
 
 By Stanley Norris. 
 YOUNG SHOWMAN'S PLUCK, or AN UNKNOWN RIDER IN THE 
 
 RING. By Stanley Norris. 
 YOUNG SHOWMAN'S TRIUMPH, or A GRAND TOUR ON THE ROAD. 
 
 By Stanley Norria. 
 ZIG-ZAG, THE BOY CONJURER, or LIFE ON AND OFF THE STAGE. 
 
 By Victor St. Clair. 
 ZIP, THE ACROBAT, or THE OLD SHOWMAN'S SECRET. By Victor 
 
 St. Clair. ,,. . 
 
 Price, 6O eents per volume 
 
 THE MATTHEW WHITE SERIES 
 
 These books are full of good, clean adventure, thrilling enough to please the full- 
 blooded wide-awake boy, yet containing nothing to which there can be any objection 
 from those who are careful as to the kind of books they put into the hands of the young. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG ATHLETE. A story of how a boy saved his 
 
 father's name and fortune. 
 
 ERIC DANE. Interesting experiences of a boy of means. 
 GUY HAMMERSLEY. How an energetic boy cleared bis name. 
 MY MYSTERIOUS FORTUNE. An extremely interesting story of a 200,000 
 
 check. 
 THE TOUR OF A PRIVATE CAR. Interesting experiences of a young private 
 
 secretary. 
 THE YOUNG EDITOR. Experiences of a bright boy editing a weekly paper. 
 
 Price, 5O cents per volume 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price by the publisher 
 
 DAVID McKAY, Philadelphia 
 
 (4)
 
 The Famous Adventure Series 
 
 An ideal series of books for boys of all ages. The stories 
 are of the bright and sparkling kind, full of adventures on 
 land and sea and not over-burdened with lengthy descriptions ; 
 in fact, just the sort that must appeal to every healthy boy 
 who is fond of thrilling exploits and deeds of heroism. 
 
 The names of the authors give sufficient guarantee to their 
 merits. Among these may be mentioned Henry Harrison 
 Lewis, who is a graduate of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, 
 and has written a great many books for boys. 
 
 A VOYAGE TO THE GOLD COAST. By Frank 
 H. Converse. 
 
 An adventurous trip of New England boys to Africa. 
 
 CAMP IN THE SNOW. By Wm. Murray Graydon. 
 
 Boys' winter camp life in northern New England. 
 
 CENTREBOARD JIM. By Henry Harrison Lewis. 
 
 The secret of Sargasso Sea. 
 
 FROM LAKE TO WILDERNESS. By Wm. Murray 
 Graydon. 
 
 Adventures around the northern lakes. 
 
 HOW HE WON. By Brooks McCormick. 
 
 Triumphs of a plucky boy afloat and ashore. 
 
 IN SEARCH OF AN UNKNOWN RACE. By 
 Frank H. Converse. 
 
 A thrilling story of exploration in Brazil. 
 
 KING OF THE ISLAND. By Henry Harrison Lewis. 
 
 Strange adventures on a South Sea Island. 
 
 TOM HAVEN WITH THE WHITE SQUADRON. 
 By Lieut. James K. Orion. 
 
 The adventures of a young inventor of a submarine boat. 
 
 Illustrated, cloth binding, 5O cents per volume 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price 
 by the publisher 
 
 DAVID McKAY, Philadelphia 
 
 (5)
 
 THE ANNAPOLIS SERIES 
 
 By ENSIGN CLARKE FITCH, U. S. N. 
 
 A graduate of the U. S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, and 
 thoroughly familiar with all naval matters Mr. Fitch has 
 devoted himself to literature, and has written a series of 
 books for boys that every young American should read. His 
 stories are full of interesting information about the navy, 
 training ships, etc. 
 
 BOUND FOR ANNAPOLIS, or The Trials of a Sailor Boy. 
 CLIP, THE NAVAL CADET, or Exciting Days at Annapolis. 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE TRAINING SHIP, or Clif Faraday's 
 Pluck. 
 
 FROM PORT TO PORT, or Clif Faraday in Many Waters. 
 A STRANGE CRUISE, or Clif Faraday's Yacht Chase. 
 
 Illustrated, cloth binding 1 , 75 cents per volume 
 
 THE WEST POINT SERIES 
 
 By LIEUT. FREDERICK GARRISON, U. S. A. 
 
 Every American boy takes a keen interest in the affairs of 
 West Point. No more capable writer on this popular subject 
 could be found than Lieut. Garrison, who vividly describes 
 the life, adventures and unique incidents that have occurred 
 in that great institution in these famous West Point stories. 
 
 OFF FOR WEST POINT, or Mark Mallory's Struggle. 
 A CADET'S HONOR, or Mark Mallory's Heroism. 
 ON GUARD, or Mark Mallory's Celebration. 
 
 THE WEST POINT TREASURE, or Mark Mallory's Strange 
 Find. 
 
 THE WEST POINT RIVALS, or Mark Mallory's Strategem. 
 Illustrated, cloth binding, 75 cents per volume 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price 
 by the publisher 
 
 DAVID McKAY, Philadelphia 
 
 (6)
 
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