Frank clutched Barney, and the boys fell back a step, watching the man, who was looking back over his shoulder and listening, the perfect picture of a hunted thing.
"They're close arter me—ther dogs!" came in a hoarse pant from the man's lips. "But I turned on 'em—I doubled—an' I hope I fooled 'em. It's my last chance, fer I'm dead played, and I'm so nigh starved that it's all I kin do ter drag one foot arter t'other."
He listened again, and then, as if overcome by a sudden fear of being seen there, he suddenly rushed across the plank and plunged into the mill.
He ran fairly upon Frank Merriwell.
In the twinkling of an eye man and boy were clasped in a close embrace, struggling desperately.
"Caught!" cried the fugitive, desperately. "Trapped!"
He tried to hurl Frank to the floor, and he would have succeeded had he been in his normal condition, for he was a man of great natural strength; but he was exhausted by flight and hunger, and, in his weakened condition, the man found his supple antagonist too much for him.
A gasp came from the stranger's lips as he felt the boy give him a wrestler's trip and fling him heavily to the floor.
The man was stunned for a moment. When he opened his eyes, Frank and Barney were bending over him.
"Wal, I done my best," he said, huskily; "but you-uns trapped me at last. I dunno how yer knew I war comin' har, but ye war on hand ter meet me."