Frank Merriwell's Triumph Part 33

"I believe he is!" cried d.i.c.k. "Somehow I am confident of it, Frank. If he detains you here in Prescott, you will lose those mines. You must get out of this place without delay."

"It certainly looks that way. I shall do so, d.i.c.k."

"But we must go with you."

"Have you thought of Felicia? She is here. Some one must remain to look after her."

"But, good gracious, Frank! I can't stay here, knowing that you are in such difficulties. It is impossible!"

"It may seem impossible to you, d.i.c.k, but you know the peril through which Felicia has lately pa.s.sed. You also know that Black Joaquin is at liberty and may find her again."

"But can't we take her?"

"Do you think she is prepared to endure the hards.h.i.+ps she would be compelled to face? No, d.i.c.k, it can't be done. You will have to stay with her."

"I will be crazy, Frank. When I think of you pitting yourself against such odds I will literally explode."

d.i.c.k's cheeks were flushed and he was panting with excitement. It seemed that even then the scent of battle was in his nostrils and he longed for the fray.

"Don't let your hot blood run away with your judgment, boy," half smiled Merriwell. "Colvin, do you know anybody in Prescott?"

"I reckons not, sir."

"You don't know a man you can depend upon--a good fighter who will stick by us if paid well?"

"Nary a one, sir."

"Then that's not to be reckoned on."

Merriwell frowned as he walked the floor. Of a sudden there came a sound of heavy feet outside and the door burst open. Into the room strode Brad Buckhart, color in his cheeks and fire in his eyes.

"Waugh!" he cried. "Get out your artillery and prepare for action!"

"What's up now, Brad?" demanded Frank.

"I certain judge they're after you in earnest," said the Texan. "Cap'n Wiley left me to watch a fine gent named Morgan. I did the trick, and I'll bet my shooting irons that Morgan has a warrant sworn out for you this minute, and he is on his way here with officers. They mean to jug you, pard, sure as shooting. You hear me gently murmur!"

"Then," said Frank calmly, "it's about time for me to make myself scarce in Prescott."

"If you're going, you want to get a move on," declared Brad. "I am not a whole lot ahead of old Morgan and the officers."

Even as he spoke there reached their ears the sound of many feet outside.

"Here they come!" said d.i.c.k.

With a leap, the Texan reached the door and pressed himself against it.

A hand fell on the k.n.o.b of the door, but the powerful shoulder of Buckhart prevented any one from entering. Immediately there was a heavy knock.

"Open this door!" commanded a voice.

"Who is there? and what do you want?" demanded Buckhart.

"We want Frank Merriwell. Open this door!"

"Perhaps you will wait some," retorted Brad.

Then another voice was heard outside, and it was that of Morgan himself.

"Break down the door!" he commanded. "Merriwell is in there! Break it down!"

"Remember my instructions, d.i.c.k," said Frank, as he coolly turned and opened a window. "Just hold this window a moment."

On the door there fell a cras.h.i.+ng blow.

"That's right!" growled Buckhart, who remained immovable. "I hope you don't damage yourself in doing it."

Frank balanced himself on the window ledge, glancing downward.

"Remember, d.i.c.k," he said again.

Crash, cras.h.!.+ fell the blows upon the door. It could not withstand such shocks, and the hinges began to break clear.

"I am good for four seconds more!" grated Brad, maintaining his position.

Frank made a light spring outward and dropped. It was more than fifteen feet to the ground, but he landed like a cat upon his feet, turned to wave his hand to d.i.c.k, and disappeared round the corner.

d.i.c.k quietly lowered the window.

"Let them in, Brad," he said.

The Texan sprang away from the door and two men came plunging into the room as it fell. Behind them was a third, and behind him was Macklyn Morgan.

d.i.c.k faced them, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"Where is Frank Merriwell?" questioned one of the officers.

"He is here! He is here!" a.s.serted Morgan, in the doorway. "I know he is here!"

"You're a whole lot wise," sneered Buckhart. "You certain could have given old Solomon a few points! I admire you a great deal--not!"

"He is hiding somewhere in this room," a.s.serted Morgan, paying no attention to the Texan.

"If that is so, he may as well come out," said the leading officer. "We will have him in a minute."

"Go ahead," said d.i.c.k, beginning to laugh. "Pull him out."

d.i.c.k's laughter was tantalizing, and one of the officers became enraged and threatened him.