Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Triumph: or, The Disappearance of Felicia - Standish Burt L. - Страница 3

While Cap’n Wiley had been relating this yarn Merriwell seemed utterly unconscious of his presence. Having produced his field glasses from the case at his side, he was surveying the impregnable valley. Suddenly he started slightly and touched Bart’s arm.

“Look yonder, Hodge,” he said, in a low tone. “Away up at the far end of the valley where the timber is, I can see smoke rising there.”

“So can I!” exclaimed Hodge. “What does it mean?”

“There is but one thing it can mean, and that is – ”

“There’s some one in the valley.”

“Sure, sure,” agreed Cap’n Wiley. “Somebody has found a passage into that harbor.”

“Do you suppose,” asked Hodge, in consternation, “that there are other parties searching for that mine?”

“It’s not unlikely.”

“But you were the only one told of its existence by Benson Clark.”

“Still, it’s likely others knew he was prospecting in this vicinity.”

“It will be hard luck, Merry, if we find that some one has relocated that claim ahead of us.”

“That’s right,” nodded Frank. “The fact that there is smoke rising from that part of the valley proves it is not impossible to get down there. It’s too late to-day to make any further effort in that direction. We will return to the camp and wait for morning.”

“And if you find other men on the claim, what will you do?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“But it belongs to you!” exclaimed Hodge earnestly. “Clark located it, and when he died he gave you the right to it.”

“Nevertheless, if some one else has found it and has registered his claim, he can hold it.”

“Not if you can prove Clark staked it off and posted notices. Not if you can prove he gave it to you.”

“But I can’t prove that. Clark is dead. He left no will. All he left was quartz in his saddlebags and some dust he had washed from the placer, together with this map I have in my pocket. You see, I would find it impossible to prove my right to the mine if I discovered other parties in possession of it.”

Bart’s look of disappointment increased.

“I suppose that’s right, Merry,” he confessed; “but it doesn’t seem right to me. The Consolidated Mining Association of America tried to take your Queen Mystery Mine from you on a shabbier claim than you have on this mine here.”

“But I defeated them, Bart. You must not forget that.”

“I haven’t forgotten it,” Hodge declared, nodding his head. “All the same, you had hard work to defeat them, and, later, Milton Sukes made it still harder for you.”

“But I triumphed in both cases. Right is right, Bart; it makes no difference whether it is on my side or the other fellow’s.”

“That’s so,” Hodge confessed. “But it would be an almighty shame to find some one else squatting on that claim. I’d like to get down into that valley now!”

“It can’t be done before nightfall, so we will go back to camp.”

They set out, and an hour later they reached their camp in a small valley. There they had pitched a tent near a spring, and close at hand their horses grazed. As they approached the tent, little Abe came hobbling up to them.

“I am glad you’re back,” he declared. “That man has been going on just awful.”

“Who? Worthington?” questioned Merry.

“Yes; he said over and over that he knew his ghost would be lost. He declared his ghost was in danger. He said he could feel the danger near.”

“More of his wild fancies,” said Hodge.

“Mates,” observed Cap’n Wiley, “if there’s anything that upsets my zebro spinal column it is a crazy gentleman like that. I am prone to confess that he worries me. I don’t trust him. I am afraid that some morning I will wake up and find a hatchet sticking in my head. I should hate to do that.”

“I am positive he is harmless,” declared Merry. “Where is he, Abe?”

“I don’t know now. A while ago he just rushed off, calling and calling, and he’s not come back.”

Frank looked alarmed. “He promised me he would stay near the camp. He gave me his word, and this is the first time he has failed to obey me implicitly in everything.”

“He said he’d have to go to save you.”

“It was a mistake bringing him here, Frank,” asserted Hodge.

“But what could I do with him? He wouldn’t remain behind, and I knew the danger of leaving him there. Any day he might escape from the valley and lose himself in the desert to perish there.”

“Perhaps that is what will happen to him now.”

Merry was sorely troubled. He made preparations to go in search of Worthington without delay. But even as he was doing so the deranged man came running back into the camp and fell panting at his feet.

“I have found you again, my ghost!” he cried. “They are after you! You must beware! You must guard yourself constantly!”

“Get up, Worthington!” said Merry. “I am in no danger. No one can hurt a ghost, you know.”

“Ah! you don’t know them – you don’t know them!” excitedly shouted the lunatic. “They are wicked and dangerous. I saw them peering over those rocks. I saw their evil eyes. Abe was asleep. I had been walking up and down, waiting for you to return. When I saw them I stood still as a stone and made them believe I was dead. They watched and watched and whispered. They had weapons in their hands! You must be on your guard every minute!”

“I have heard about crazy bedbugs,” muttered Wiley; “but I never saw one quite as bad as this. Every time I hear him go on that way I feel the need of a drink. I could even partake of a portion of Easy Street firewater with relish.”

Worthington seized Frank’s arm.

“You must come and see where they were – you must come and see,” he urged.

“Never mind that now,” said Merry. “I will look later.”

“No! no! Come, now!”

“Be still!” commanded Merry sharply. “I can’t waste the time.”

But the maniac continued to plead and beg until, in order to appease him, Merry gave in.

Worthington led him to a mass of bowlders at a distance, and, pointing at them, he declared in a whisper:

“There’s where they were hiding. Look and see. There is where they were, I tell you!”

More to pacify the poor fellow than anything else, Frank looked around amid the rocks. Suddenly he made a discovery that caused him to change countenance and kneel upon the ground. Bart, who had sauntered down, found him thus.

“What is it, Frank?” he asked.

“See here, Hodge,” said Merry. “There has been some one here amid these rocks. Here’s a track. Here’s a mark where the nails of a man’s boot heel scratched on the rocks.”

Hodge stood looking down, but shook his head.

“You have sharper eyes than I, Frank,” he confessed. “Perhaps Worthington has been here himself.”

“No! no!” denied the deranged man. “I was afraid to come! I tell you I saw them! I tell you I saw their wicked eyes. This is the first time I have been here!”

“If he tells the truth,” said Frank, “then it is certain some one else has been here.”

Behind Worthington’s back Bart shook his head and made signals expressive of his belief that whatever signs Frank had discovered there had been made by Worthington.

“Now, you see,” persisted the madman; “now you know they were here! Now you know you must be on your guard!”

“Yes, yes,” nodded Merry impatiently. “Don’t worry about that, Worthington. I will be on my guard. They will not take me by surprise.”

This seemed to satisfy the poor fellow for the time being, and they returned to the tent. There a fire was again started and supper was prepared. Shadows gathered in the valley and night came on. Overhead the bright stars were shining with a clear light peculiar to that Southwestern land.

After supper they lay about on the ground, talking of the Enchanted Valley, as Merry had named it, and of the mysterious smoke seen rising from it. Later, when little Abe and Cap’n Wiley were sleeping and Worthington had sunk into troubled slumber, through which he muttered and moaned, Frank and Bart sat in the tent and examined the map by the light of a small lantern.

“Beyond question, Merry, the mine is near here. There is not a doubt of it. Here to the east is Hawley Peak, to the south lies Clear Creek. Here you see marked the stream which must flow through that valley, and here is the cross made by Clark, which indicates the location of his claim.”

They bent over the map with their heads together, sitting near the end of the tent. Suddenly a hand and arm was thrust in through the perpendicular slit in the tent flap. That arm reached over Frank’s shoulder, and that hand seized the map from his fingers. It was done in a twinkling, and in a twinkling it was gone.

With shouts of astonishment and dismay, both Frank and Bart sprang up and plunged from the tent. They heard the sounds of feet running swiftly down the valley.

“Halt!” cried Merry, producing a pistol and starting in pursuit.

In the darkness he caught a glimpse of the fleeing figure.

“Stop, or I fire!” he cried again.

There was no answer. Flinging up his hand, he began shooting into the gloom. He did not stop until he had emptied the weapon. Having run on some distance, he paused and listened, stopping Bart with an outstretched hand.

Silence lay over the valley.

“Did you hit him?” asked Bart.

“I don’t know,” confessed Frank.

“I can hear nothing of him.”

“Nor I.”

“You may have dropped him here.”

“If not – ”

“If not, my map is gone.”

As he was talking, Frank threw open his pistol and the empty shells were ejected. He deftly refilled the cylinder.

“By George, Merry!” whispered Bart, “Worthington may have been right when he told you he saw some one beyond those bowlders.”

“He was.”

“Then we have been followed! We have been spied upon!”

“No question about it.”

“Who did it?”

“That’s for us to find out.”

Together they searched for the man at whom Frank had fired in the darkness. They found nothing of him. From the tent little Abe began calling to them. Then Worthington came hurrying and panting through the darkness seeking them.

“They have gone!” declared the man wildly. “They were here! In my sleep I felt them! In my sleep I saw them!”

“We must have a light, Hodge,” said Frank. “Bring the lantern.”

Bart rushed back to the tent and brought the lantern. With it Frank began examining the ground.

“Poor show of discovering any sign here,” he muttered.

After a time, however, he uttered an exclamation and bent over.

“What have you found?” questioned Hodge excitedly.

“See here,” said Frank, pointing on the ground before him.

On a rock at their feet they saw fresh drops of blood.

“By Jove, you did hit him!” burst from Bart’s lips. “If we can follow that trail – ”

“We will find the man who has that map,” said Merry grimly. “I wonder how badly he is wounded.”

“Blood!” moaned Worthington. “There is blood on the ground! There is blood in the air! There is death here! Wherever I go there is death!”

“Keep still!” said Frank sharply. “Look out for Abe, Bart.”

Then he began seeking to follow the sanguine trail with the aid of the lighted lantern. It was slow work, but still he made some progress.

“We’re taking big chances, Merry,” said Bart, who had a pistol in his hand.

“It’s the only way we can follow him.”

“Beware!” warned Worthington, in a hollow whisper. “I tell you there is death in the air!”

They had not proceeded far when suddenly a shot rang out and the bullet smashed the lantern globe, extinguishing the light. Hodge had been expecting something of the sort, and he fired almost instantly in return, aiming at the flash he had vaguely seen.

“Are you hurt, Merry?” he asked.

“No; the lantern was the only thing struck. Did you see where the shot came from?”

“I caught a glimpse of the flash.”

Then a hoarse voice hailed them from the darkness farther down the valley.

“You gents, there!” it called.

They did not answer.

“Oh, Frank Merriwell!” again came the call.

“It’s somebody who knows you,” whispered Hodge.

“What is it?” called Merry, in response.

“You holds up where you are!” returned the voice, “or you eats lead a-plenty.”

“Who are you?”

“That’s what you finds out if you come. If you wants to know so bad, mebbe you ambles nearer and takes your chances o’ getting shot up.”

“It’s sure death to try it,” warned Hodge, in a whisper.

“Death and destruction!” Worthington screamed. “It is here! Come away! Come away!”

He seized Merry and attempted to drag him back. Frank was forced to break the man’s hold upon him.

“I must save you!” the deranged man panted. “I knew it would come! Once I left you to perish in the flames; now I must save you!”

He again flung himself on Frank, and during the struggle that followed both Hodge and Wiley were compelled to render assistance. Not until the madman had been tripped and was held helpless on the ground did he become quiet.

“It’s no use!” he groaned; “I can’t do it! It is not my fault!”

Merry bent close and stared through the gloom at the eyes of the unfortunate man.

“You must obey me,” he said, in that singular, commanding tone of his. “You have to obey me! Go back to the tent!”

Then he motioned for Hodge to let Worthington up, and Bart did so. Without further resistance or struggling, the man turned and walked slowly back to the tent.

“Go with him, Wiley, and take Abe with you.”

Although Wiley protested against this, Frank was firm, and the sailor yielded. Then, seeking such shelter as they could find amid the rocks and the darkness, Bart and Frank crept slowly toward the point from which that warning voice had seemed to come. A long time was spent in this manner, and when they reached the spot they sought they were rewarded by finding nothing.

“He has gone, Frank,” muttered Hodge. “While we were struggling with Worthington, he improved the opportunity to escape.”

“I fear you are right,” said Merriwell.

Further investigation proved this was true. In vain they searched the valley. The mysterious unknown who had snatched the map and who had been wounded in his flight by Frank had made good his escape.