Frank Merriwell's Bravery Part 34

"If he shoots, I'll try a shot at him from here!" cried Frank. "I may not be able to reach him, but I'll try it."

A third time the man pointed his revolver at the motionless form of the man who lay huddled on the ground. This time no one of the group interfered; all stood back, and the younger man, who had twice saved Scotch's life, turned away, plainly unwilling to witness the deed.

"He's going to shoot!" panted Frank, pulling forward his rifle, and bringing it to his shoulder. "I will----"

"Wait a bit, me b'y. Look there! Th' litthle girrul is thrying to save him."

"G.o.d bless her!"

Miskel had rushed into the midst of the men, and she was seen pleading with the man who seemed determined to kill the professor. At first, it seemed that she would fail, but she finally prevailed, and the man put up his weapon, with a gesture of angry impatience. Then he seemed to give some orders, and the unconscious captive was lifted and carried toward the camp.

"He is saved for the time," breathed Frank, with relief; "but it is simply a respite."

"Thot is betther than nothing, me b'y."

"Yes, it is better than nothing. Barney, I have a scheme."

"Spake out, Frankie. Me ears are woide open to-night."

"If they spare Professor Scotch till to-night, we will go down there and attempt his rescue."

"Oi'm wid yes, me b'y, to th' ind."

They watched the men bear the unfortunate professor into the camp, and noted carefully the building into which the man was taken.

"We must make no mistake to-night, Barney. It is our duty to do our best to save Professor Scotch."

"An' we'll do our duty av we nivver do anything ilse, begorra!"

"You are bold lads," said a voice behind them; "but you cannot save him from Uric Dugan."

They whirled swiftly, and found Old Solitary had come up behind them, without being heard.

"I found you had awakened," said the strange man; "and I wondered if you had come here."

"And we wondered where you had gone."

"I went forth to see what I should see," he said, in a peculiar manner.

"Voices far away in empty s.p.a.ce were calling to me--calling, calling, calling!"

The boys shot hasty glances at each other, the same thought flitting through the minds of both.

They had dealt with one maniac, and now was it possible that they were to encounter another?

It had been dark when Old Solitary came upon them the night before, and so they were unable to study his face; but now they saw that his eyes were restless and filled with a s.h.i.+fting light, while his general appearance was that of a man deranged.

Quickly leaning toward Barney, Frank whispered:

"He must be humored; don't anger him."

The man, although he could not have heard the words, noted that something was said, and he cried:

"Why do you whisper together. Would you betray me? Is there no one in the wide world I can trust?"

"Betray you?" said Frank. "To whom can we betray you? You have us in your power, and you can betray us to the Danites, if you choose. You need not fear that we shall betray you."

"Then it must be that you are afraid of me. All the world seems to fear me. Why is it so? What have I ever done to make men afraid of me?"

"Nothing evil, I am sure."

"And you are right. It cuts me to have men shrink from me; but they do, and I have become an outcast. There is something wrong about me--I feel it here."

His hand was lifted to his head, and his face wore a look of deep distress. He seemed to realize, in an uncertain way, that he was not quite right in his mind.

"You have lived so much by yourself that you have grown unsocial," said Frank. "That must be the trouble."

Old Solitary shook his head.

"That is not it. Listen, and I will tell you something. Uric Dugan hates and fears me. I do not care for that; it gives me satisfaction.

Still I do not know why it gives me satisfaction, for it pains me when others shrink away in fear. Dugan would kill me if he could, and still he seems to regard me as one risen from death. Can you tell me why?"

He paused, looking at them in an inquiring way.

"You can't tell," came swiftly from his lips, as Frank was about to speak. "No one can tell. I do not know myself. My memory is broken into a thousand fragments. Some things I remember well; some things I do not remember at all. There was a time when I was young, and I had friends.

Who were my friends? What has happened to rob me of my memory? I believe Uric Dugan can tell me. If I had not believed so, Dugan should have died long ago. Scores of times I have held his life in the hollow of my hand.

I have longed to slay him--to kill him for some wrong he has done me. My hand has been held by a power I could not see. A voice has whispered in my ear, 'Wait.' I have waited. For what? I do not know."

He bowed his head on his breast, over which flowed his long white beard, and his att.i.tude was one of intense dejection.

The boys were silent, wondering at the strange man who had befriended them.

Some moments pa.s.sed.

"By going forth early I saw many things," the man finally declared, speaking quietly. "You are not the only ones who have strayed into the net of the Danites."

"We have been informed there are others," said Frank.

"Informed? How?"

Frank told how Miskel had shot the message into the mouth of the cave.

"I have seen her hundreds of times," slowly spoke Old Solitary. "She has a good face. It does not seem possible that she is his daughter--the daughter of Uric Dugan. I think the memory of her face has spared his life at times. But it will not be ever thus. The time will come when I shall steel my heart."

"We have just seen the Danites bear a captive into their village, and that captive is my guardian."

"A small man with reddish hair and beard?"

"Yes."