“The blood of Guerrero, the bandit, runs strong in your veins,” said Merry. “You dare not fight the battle out between us in the courts, but you seek by murder to secure your ends.”
“I shall yet triumph!” snarled the Mexican. “Even though you escape to-night, my time will come.”
Then Merry crushed him down and hurled him heavily to the ground.
“Tell the truth, you treacherous dog!” commanded Frank, with his hands at the fallen man’s throat. “Did you see Inza Burrage?”
“Yes, I saw her.”
“Where did she go?”
“She fled past me as I stood in the shadow of some bushes.”
“You lied when you said she fell over the precipice?”
“It was a little stratagem of mine, Señor Merriwell; that’s all. She didn’t fall over the precipice. No! no! Had she done so my heart would have been broken! I should have been crushed by the frightful horror of it. Oh, I am not afraid of you, dog of a gringo! You have me down, but to your face I tell you that I love her and she shall yet be mine! Now, do your worst!”
“You poor fool!” laughed Frank harshly. “You’re not worth kicking over the cliff! Don’t deceive yourself with foolish dreams. And let me give you this warning: Keep away from Inza Burrage if you value your life!”