Frank Merriwell's Pursuit Part 6

Hodge had remained with Inza and Elsie, but at the first alarm, thinking Frank might be in trouble, he left the girls and dashed across the floor. Elsie called to him, starting to follow. Suddenly she stopped, turning back to Inza, whom she had left by the open window.

Inza was gone.

"Where is she?" gasped Elsie, looking around. "I am sure----"

She paused in bewilderment, a sudden feeling of terror seizing her.

From somewhere in the grove outside the pavilion came a smothered cry of distress.

Elsie Bellwood had left Inza standing close to the huge, open window.

Barely was Elsie's back turned when the heavy folds of a blanket were thrown over Inza's head and she felt herself lifted bodily and s.n.a.t.c.hed through the window.

Remarkable though it was, no one within the pavilion saw this happen.

The attention of all was turned toward the opposite side of the building, where the encounter was taking place between Frank and the two wolves.

At first Inza was stunned and bewildered. Her hands and arms were enfolded in the blanket, and she was unable to make anything like effective resistance. The blanket was twisted about her until she could not cast it off, and she felt herself lifted and carried away in a pair of arms that held her tightly.

Had she been of a nervous or timid nature she might have fainted at once. But she was brave and nervy and she struggled hard for her freedom, seeking to cast off the blanket which was smothering her and giving her a sensation of agony.

The man had not carried her far when she nearly succeeded in getting her head clear of the blanket. She uttered a cry that was broken and smothered, for, with an exclamation of dismay, her captor again twisted the blanket tightly about her head and neck.

It was this cry which reached the ears of Elsie, who had just missed her friend.

Inza continued to struggle, kicking and uttering m.u.f.fled cries beneath the blanket; but she was helpless, and, holding her thus, the man, who wore a wolf mask, almost ran through the grove to the sh.o.r.e of the lake.

By the time the sh.o.r.e was reached the girl's struggles had become very weak, and the only sounds issuing from the smothering folds of the blanket were choking moans.

As Inza's captor approached the water he uttered a low, peculiar whistle.

It was answered by a similar whistle.

The answer served to guide the man with the wolf mask to the spot where a canoe lay floating with its prow touching the sh.o.r.e, guarded by a man who stood straight and silent on the bank.

"Ben!" excitedly yet softly called the man with the girl.

"Here," was the answer.

"Ready with the canoe! Back there you hear them shouting. Thank the saints the senorita no longer struggles! She has fainted."

"What got?" asked the man on the sh.o.r.e, who was a full-blooded Indian guide, known as Red Ben. "Big bundle."

"Never mind what I have here. I paid you to wait and be ready to take me away in a hurry, and now it is in a hurry I must go. Swing the canoe so I may put her in it."

The shouts of men and excited voices of women came to their ears from the pavilion.

"Let them bark!" muttered Inza's captor. "I'll soon be far away, and the water will leave no trail for Merriwell, the gringo, to follow. Once he trailed me, but I have taken precautions this time."

Unhesitatingly he stepped into the water beside the canoe, in the bottom of which he placed Inza, with the blanket still wrapped about her. A moment later he was seated in the canoe, which Red Ben pushed off from sh.o.r.e, springing in himself and seizing a paddle.

"Keep in the shadows near the sh.o.r.e," directed the wearer of the wolf mask. "Paddle hard, for much trouble it might make us both should we be seen."

"You steal gal?" questioned the curious Indian.

"She belongs to me," was the answer. "My enemy claims her, but she is mine. Don't talk, Ben--paddle for your life. Were we to be seen now----"

"Point out there," said the redskin. "We go by him, n.o.body back there see us."

"Then get past the point at your finest speed, and it is doubly well you shall be paid for this night's work."

The Indian made the canoe fly over the surface of the water. He kept close to the sh.o.r.e of a little cove and then swept out in the shadow of the trees along the rim of the lake, soon reaching the point.

As Ben sent the canoe shooting past that point it came near colliding with another canoe that contained a single occupant, who was smoking a pipe and paddling along leisurely.

"Look out, you lubbers!" grunted the man with the pipe. "What are you trying to do?"

It was Bruce Browning, who, after all, had found it impossible to remain at the cottage. In Joe's canoe Bruce was leisurely paddling over to the south sh.o.r.e, thinking he would look in on the dancers. He had not heard the approach of the other canoe and knew nothing of its presence until it shot past the point and nearly struck him.

Neither Red Ben nor his companion made any retort. The Indian swerved the canoe aside and continued to ply the paddle, flas.h.i.+ng past Bruce.

Browning stared in surprise, for the moonlight fell full and fair on the redskin's companion, showing the wolf mask.

"One of the dancers, I judge," he mumbled. "Nice, sociable fellow! Never said a word when they came so near cutting me in two. What's he doing now?"

Bruce swung his canoe so he could watch the other without cramping his neck, for he saw that something like a struggle was taking place, the masked man seemingly holding some object helpless in the bottom of the frail craft.

"Queer doings," growled the big fellow. "I'd like to know what it means. There seems to be some sort of excitement going on yonder."

He turned from the canoe to listen to the sounds on sh.o.r.e.

"Guess I'll poke along and find out what all the racket is," he decided, as he resumed his lazy paddling, giving no further attention to the other canoe.

Arriving at the landing, Bruce made his way to the pavilion. Ere he reached it he was certain something of an unusual nature had taken place. Persons were searching with lights in the grove, and he encountered a party of four, who surveyed him searchingly and pa.s.sed on.

He had reached the pavilion when he encountered Hodge, who was doing his best to quiet Elsie, the latter apparently being on the verge of hysterics.

"What's the matter, Bart?" asked Bruce, wonderingly. "What's happened here, anyhow?"

Hodge clutched him by the shoulder.

"Inza!" he exclaimed. "She has disappeared mysteriously."

The big fellow immediately threw off his apathy. His careless, lazy air vanished in a twinkling and he asked some questions that brought a brief but complete explanation from Bart.

"Where is Frank?" demanded Browning.

"He is with the searchers."

Bruce lost no time in looking for Merriwell, soon coming face to face with him in the grove. Frank's face was pale and stern, and there was a dangerous, desperate gleam in his eyes.