“If never before had there been anything against Señor Esparto, you have now said enough to seal your fate. Send for the civil guards! Close the doors, and do not let the traitor escape!”
“Stand aside!”
Esparto strode toward the door.
The revolutionist had not taken two steps when a hand that clutched a keen knife arose above his back.
But that knife was not planted between Esparto’s shoulders.
A pistol shot rang out, there was a cry of pain, and the knife fell to the floor!
Esparto whirled like a cat, and he saw behind him the would-be assassin clinging to a hand that had been shattered by the bullet.
But that was not all he saw.
Standing upon a chair was an American lad who held a smoking revolver in his grasp.
Esparto knew his life had been saved by Frank Merriwell’s shot.