Frank Merriwell's Triumph Part 57

Wiley now came panting back into the room, struck an att.i.tude, and made a salute.

"Our land-going craft are at the pier outside."

Frank paused only to kiss Felicia and whisper a last word in her ear. As he turned to leave the room, he came face to face with Macklyn Morgan near the door.

Morgan looked at him in a singular manner and smiled.

"Excuse me, sir. You seem to be in a great hurry about something."

Merry stopped short and stood looking straight into the eyes of his enemy.

"What is your next low trick, Morgan?" he said. "Let me tell you here and now, and don't forget it for an instant, if ever any harm comes to me or mine through you, you'll rue it to the last moment of your miserable life."

With which he strode on out of the hotel.

Away out of Prescott they clattered, and away into the gathering darkness of a soft spring night. The cool breeze rushed past their ears and fanned their hot cheeks. Frank was in the lead, for Wiley had taken pains to see that Merriwell's own fine horse was made ready for him.

"Is this the road, Buckhart?" the young mine owner called back. "This is the one Felicia told us to take, isn't it?"

"Sure as shooting!" answered the Texan.

"We don't want to make any mistake in our course," put in the sailor.

"That would be fatal to the aspirations of our agitated anatomy. At the same time we want to keep our optical vision clear for breakers ahead.

We may be due to strike troubled waters before long."

"That's what we're looking for!" growled Buckhart, who seemed hot for trouble of some sort.

Onward they rode along the brown trail. Beneath them the ground seemed speeding backward. The lights of the town twinkled far behind them.

Frank's keen eyes detected something that caused him to drop rein and swerve from the road. At a short distance from the trail a horse was grazing. This animal s.h.i.+ed somewhat and moved away as Merry approached, but Frank's skill enabled him, after a little, to capture the creature, which proved to be saddled and bridled.

"d.i.c.k's horse," he said. "Hold him, Buckhart. I want to make an examination."

Brad took the creature by the head, and a moment later Frank struck a match, which he protected in the hollow of his hand until it was in full blaze. He then examined the saddle and the creature's back. Several matches were used for this purpose, while both Buckhart and Wiley waited anxiously for the result.

"What behold you, mate?" inquired the sailor.

"Nothing," answered Frank. And it seemed there was relief in his voice.

"Whatever did you expect to find?" questioned the Texan.

"I hoped to find nothing, just as I have," was the answer. "Still, I thought it possible there might be blood stains on the horse. It is not likely there would be hostile savages in this vicinity. Indeed, such a thing is almost improbable; yet it was my fancy that d.i.c.k might have been silently shot from his saddle."

"How silently?" asked Brad. "Shooting is pretty certain to be heard, I opine."

"Not if done with an arrow."

"But the Injun of this day and generation is generally provided with a different weapon."

"That's true; but still some of them use the bow and arrow even to-day."

"I don't reckon a whole lot on anything of that sort happening to my pard," a.s.serted the Texan.

"Nor I," admitted Frank. "But I thought it best to investigate."

The horse was again set at liberty. They had no time to bother with it then. Once more they found the trail and rode on.

Before them loomed the dark chaparral, into which wound the road they followed. On either hand the tangled thicket was dark and grim.

"A right nasty place for a hold-up!" muttered Buckhart, whose hand was on his pistol.

"If any one tries that little trick," observed Cap'n Wiley, "it's my sagacious opinion that they are due to receive a surprise that will disturb their mental condition and throw their quivering nerves into the utmost agitation. I am ready to keep the air full of bullets, for in that way something will surely be hit. Reminds me of the time when I went gunning with Johnny Johnson. We came to a promising strip of forest, and he took one side and I took the other. Pretty soon I heard him banging away, and he kept shooting and shooting until I grew black in the face with envy. I reckoned he was bagging all the game in that preserve. In my seething imagination I saw him with partridges, and woodc.o.c.k, and other things piled up around him knee-deep.

"For just about an hour he kept on shooting regular every few seconds.

At last I came to him, for I didn't find a single measly thing to pop at. Imagine my astonishment when I found him idly reclining in a comfortable position on the ground and firing at intervals into the air.

'John, old man,' says I, 'what are you doing?' 'Wiley,' he answered, 'I am out for game. I haven't been able to find any, but I know where there is some in this vicinity. I arrived at the specific conclusion that if I could keep the air full of shot I'd hit something after a while, and so I am carrying my wise plan into execution.' Oh, I tell you, John was a great hunter--a great hunter!"

"Better cut that out," said Frank. "This is a first-cla.s.s time for you to give your wagging jaw a rest, cap'n."

"Thanks, mate; your suggestion will be appropriated unto me."

Through the chaparral they went, their eyes searching the trail and noting every dark spot on the ground. At length they came to the farther border of the thicket, but without making any discovery.

"Here's where Felicia said the race began," said Brad. "We haven't found a thing, Frank--not a thing."

Still Merry led them on a little farther before halting and turning about.

"What's to be done now?" anxiously inquired the Texan.

"We will follow the trail back through the chaparral," said Frank. "We will call to d.i.c.k. That's the only thing it seems possible for us to do."

Having decided on this, they rode slowly back; calling at intervals to the missing lad. The thick chaparral rang with their voices, but through it came no answer. The cold stars watched them in silence. By the time they had again debouched from the chaparral Brad was in such a state of mind that reason seemed to have deserted him. He actually proposed plunging into the thicket and attempting to search through it.

"You couldn't make your way through that tangle in broad daylight,"

declared Merry. "Don't lose your head, Buckhart."

"But, Frank--my pard, we must find him!"

"We will do everything we can. We may not find him to-night. But I will find him in time."

"What has become of him?" groaned the Texan.

"It's my belief," said Merry, "that he is in the hands of my enemies.

This is a new blow at me. I saw something of it in the eyes of Macklyn Morgan when I faced him in the hotel just before we started. There was a look of triumph on his face."

"Whoop!" shouted Brad. "Then he's the galoot we want to git at! It's up to us to light on him all spraddled out and squeeze the truth out of him in a hurry. Just let me get at him!"

"And you would simply make the matter worse than it is. You must leave this thing to me, Buckhart. You must hold yourself in check unless you want to injure d.i.c.k. I will deal with Macklyn Morgan."

"You," said Wiley. "I fancy you have hit on the outrageous and egregious truth. I don't know just what egregious means, but it sounds well there.