Frank Merriwell's Triumph Part 23

"Is it luck you call it?" sneered Pachuca. "Ha! ha!"

"Yes, luck. What was it when you won?"

"It was my skill," declared Pachuca loftily. "But even skill is no match for some methods."

At this the little fellow who had won the most sprang up and struck the table with his fist, glaring across at Pachuca.

"Do you dare say to my face that I cheat?" he sharply cried. "Speak it out, if you do!"

Merry was quite satisfied by the course events seemed to be taking, for he felt that it might be much to his advantage if a quarrel between these two men followed.

Pachuca, however, shrugged his shoulders and showed his teeth, as he rolled a cigarette.

"You have won, Ramon," he returned. "Keep the money. My turn comes."

"Any time you like," was the defiant challenge. "When I lose it is not like a stuck pig that I squeal."

Then Ramon sat down as if quite satisfied, and the game proceeded without Pachuca partic.i.p.ating further.

Merry was disappointed. Still he saw there was bad blood among the men, and he felt that what he had heard in the courtyard and since indicated dissension and dissatisfaction.

As the gamblers continued they again fell to speaking of "the girl."

Suddenly behind him, toward the stairs, Merry heard a soft footfall. He pressed himself closer into the darkness of his niche and scarcely breathed as a man brushed past. This man halted in the door, hearing something of the words of the gamblers. Suddenly he stepped forward.

"What is this?" he demanded angrily. "Again you are talking too much. I have warned you before. You are not to speak at all of the girl. You know she's here; let that be enough, and hold your tongues!"

"h.e.l.lo, my fine friend!" whispered Frank to himself, as the light fell on the face of the newcomer and he saw that there was a scar on the man's cheek. "So it's you?"

Sudden silence fell upon the men. The man with the the scar singled out Ramon, at whom he pointed.

"You are always talking too much," he declared. "When will you learn better?"

As he stood behind the table, Ramon's hand slipped down to his sash, where it touched the hilt of a knife, and the look on his face was far from pleasant.

"It's me you always single out, Carlos!" he exclaimed. "Why do you never talk thus to the others?"

"Because it is you who make trouble. It is you I have been compelled to caution. What think you the chief would say should he hear you?"

"The chief!" cried Ramon. "Where is he? It is easy to make promises, Carlos. How know we that we are to receive all that is promised?"

"Have you not been satisfied in the past?"

"Not always," was the bold retort. "I am not the only one; there are others here who have not been satisfied. It is time to speak plainly.

When all danger is over----"

"It is already," was the a.s.sertion.

"How so?"

"You know the three dogs who followed the trail have been trapped. They are secure, and never from this place will they go forth."

"But there may be others. There was another who followed us far."

"What of him?" sneered Carlos, snapping his fingers. "He has long lost the scent. It is only these three fellows who tracked us here, and better for them had they never come. Here their bones will rot!"

"If that is true, there is now nothing to prevent the chief from carrying the girl whither he likes. Who is she? That you have not told us, Carlos."

"That is nothing to you. It is a matter to concern the chief alone."

"Ah! we know she must be of great value to him, else he would have never taken so many chances. Why was she deceived with the tale that she was to be carried to her father?"

"How know you so much?" grimly demanded Carlos.

Then suddenly he wheeled on Jimenez.

"It's you who talk a great deal likewise!" he snarled.

Up to this point Jimenez had been silent. Now, like a flash, he sprang up and advanced to the side of Ramon.

"My tongue is my own," he harshly said. "On it no one has placed a lock.

What harm has the child done that she should be deceived? We are the men who did the work; why should not we be trusted? Answer that--if you can.

I know that she was told that she should find her father here. I know, too, that he is a fugitive and has long hidden from his enemies.

However, I know that she was led to believe that he had sent for her.

Where is this man?"

"You fool!" burst from Carlos. "I knew that it was a mistake when you were placed to guard her. I knew it was unsafe that she should tell you too much. Wait until the chief learns of this."

"Let him pay us what he has promised," said Ramon. "We will take it and be silent. He may then go where he pleases and carry the girl. Carlos, we are not the only ones here who demand to see this money and to hear it clink in our hands. Comrades, it is time we show our colors. Let those who are with me stand forth."

At this there was a stir. Some of the men seemed to hesitate, but a moment later two more men came over to the side of Ramon and Jimenez.

"This is not all," Ramon declared. "There are still others who are not satisfied with bare promises. Let the chief satisfy us. Where is he?"

Merry had been so deeply interested that he failed to hear a step behind him, and had not he been cautiously pressed in the shadows of his nook he might have been observed. The approaching man, however, had heard sounds of a quarrel in that room, and he strode past Frank and entered by the door.

"Who calls for me?" he demanded, in a clear, steady voice. "Why all this uproar?"

"Joaquin!" muttered one, while others exclaimed, "The chief!"

And Frank recognized Felipe Dulzura!

Sudden silence fell upon them. Dulzura, whom Frank now knew to be Black Joaquin, stood boldly looking them over. Despite the a.s.sertion made by one of the men that the chief was one who avoided danger, his bearing now seemed that of utter fearlessness and command.

"Speak!" he exclaimed. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Ask Ramon," said Carlos. "He will tell you--perhaps."