Frank Merriwell's Triumph Part 24

Ramon drew himself up. The time had come that he must face the matter unflinchingly.

"It is this," he said; "we have been promised much and have received little. Some of us are not satisfied."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Black Joaquin. "And you are one of the dissatisfied, I see."

"I am," was the admission; "but I am not alone. You will find that there are many more. Ask them. You will find nearly all are dissatisfied."

The chief glanced them over, and what he saw in their faces convinced him that Ramon spoke truly. Suddenly he smiled on them in that pleasant manner of his, and his voice was soft and musical as he spoke again.

"I would not have any of my faithful fellows dissatisfied," he declared.

"If there is anything I can do in justice, let them name it."

Carlos seemed disappointed by this unexpected manner of their leader.

"It is that you have promised us a great deal we have not received,"

said Ramon.

"And is it yet time?" was the placid question.

"Why not? You said the time would come when the girl was safely yours, with no danger of pursuit. To me it seems that time has come. The three Americans who pursued you are captured and cannot escape. The girl is now yours to do with as you like. Is it strange we suspect she is a prize of great value? If she were not, why should Black Joaquin put himself to so much trouble?"

"You are right," smiled the man Merry knew as Dulzura. "But you are hasty. It is only lately the pursuers I most feared have fallen into my hands. Had you waited a little it might have given me more satisfaction.

You were always too hasty, Ramon."

The rebuke was of the mildest sort, and Ramon accepted it without a show of anger.

"However," continued the chief, "I can pardon you this once, but you shall be satisfied. I have not at hand all I have promised you, but it is where I can soon secure it. Nevertheless, I have something here, and it shall be divided among you."

As he said this, he drew forth a leather pouch, which he flung with a careless gesture upon the table. It struck with a heavy thud and a slight clanking sound.

"I call upon you," he said, "to see that it is divided equally and fairly. The rest shall be paid you soon. Carlos, I would speak with you."

He then turned toward the door, and Carlos followed him. Outside, in the shadows, they halted not fifteen feet from Frank.

"Carlos," said Joaquin, "not one coin more will those dogs get. I have no further use for them. You and I must abandon them and get away before the coming of another day. It is no longer well for us to remain in this land. As Black Joaquin my work is done. Can we reach Spain in safety with the girl, our fortunes are made. But those snarling curs will object if they suspect we are contemplating leaving them behind. You I depend on. You know where the wine is kept. Take this which I give you and with it drug the wine. When you have done so, bring it for them to drink. Make merry with them, and encourage them to drink deeply. They will sleep soundly after that, and we shall have no trouble. I will get the girl ready. Before those fools awaken I shall be far from here, and we can laugh at them."

"Good!" said Carlos, having accepted from Joaquin's hand the bottle proffered him. "It shall be done. Leave it to me."

The chief clapped his trusted comrade upon the shoulder.

"Faithful Carlos!" he said. "With me you shall share the reward. Lose no time, for time is precious now."

"The Americans," questioned Carlos, "what of them?"

"Leave them where they are. Let them starve there."

Little did they dream when they turned away that they were followed by Frank Merriwell, who observed the greatest possible caution. They separated, and it was Black Joaquin whose footsteps led Frank through many winding ways and up long flights of stairs into one of the turrets.

When Joaquin unbarred the door and entered the little room up there Frank was near at hand. Merry stole forward and peered into that room, from which the light shone forth.

"She's there!" he told himself, in deep satisfaction, as he beheld Felicia.

The captive girl had been weeping. When Joaquin saw this he spoke to her in a voice that seemed full of tenderness and compa.s.sion.

"My dear child," he said, "why do you shed these foolish tears?"

"Oh, sir!" exclaimed Felicia, "where are the friends I saw from the window? Why are they not permitted to come to me?"

"They are near and you shall see them soon," was the treacherous promise.

"How am I to believe you?" cried the girl. "You told me I should find my father here. You told me he was hiding here to escape his enemies. You told me he had sent for me to come to him, longing to see my face once more. I believed you. I trusted you. At your command I even deceived the good friends I knew in San Diego. Now I fear it was wrong and wicked for me to do so. Now I know it was wrong! But what was I to do? You told me, over and over, that my father would be placed in awful peril if I breathed a word of the truth."

"Which clears up that part of the mystery," thought Frank, as he listened outside.

"I told you nothing but the truth," declared Joaquin. "Your father sent that message to you by me."

"But he is not here--he is not here!" panted the distressed child. "You said I should find him here. If you deceive me in that, why not in everything?"

"Your father was here, but ere we could reach this place he found it necessary to depart. Enemies were searching for him, and he was forced to flee; but he left a message for me, telling me whither he went and directing me to bring you. Trust me, Felicia, and you shall soon see him."

Frank quivered a little with rage as he listened to the lying wretch.

Felicia drew a little nearer and looked earnestly into the face of the man.

"Oh, I can't believe you are deceiving me!" she said. "You do not seem so terribly wicked."

He laughed pleasantly.

"I know it must seem suspicious to you, child; but trust me a little longer."

"If you had only let my friends come to me!"

"Within two hours you shall be with them. Some of my men, I regret to say, I cannot trust, and so I hastened to send your friends away. They are not far from here, and we will join them. Are you ready to go, child?"

"Quite ready," she answered.

"Then give me your hand and trust me in everything."

She placed her hand confidingly in his, and they turned toward the door.

Then Black Joaquin found himself face to face with a great surprise, for in that doorway stood Frank Merriwell, a c.o.c.ked pistol leveled straight toward the scoundrel's heart.

"Up with your hands, Joaquin!" commanded Merry sharply. "One moment of hesitation on your part and I shall pull the trigger. I will send your black soul to the bar of judgment as true as my name is Frank Merriwell!"

The villain paled and was utterly dumfounded by the marvelous appearance of the man he believed secure in the dungeon.

"Put up your hands!" palpitated Frank, and in that second command there was something that caused Black Joaquin to quickly lift his hands above his head.

"One cry, one sound, even a murmur from your lips, will cause me to shoot you on the spot," declared the young American.

Felicia had been spellbound, but now she started forward, uttering a cry.