Now Frank was close behind his friend. He could hear the whirring sound of the spokes of Diamond’s wheel cutting the air, and he could hear the hoarse, panting breathing of his friend.
A steady hand guided Merriwell’s wheel alongside that of his friend; a steady and a strong hand fell on the shoulder of the lad who had been crazed by the alluring vision of the lake in the desert.
“Stop, Jack!”
Diamond turned toward his friend a face from which a pair of glaring eyes looked out. His lips curled back from his white teeth, and he snarled:
“Hands off! Don’t try to hold me back! Can’t you see it, you fool! The lake—the lake!”
“There is no lake!”
“Yes, there is! You are blind! See it!”
“Stop, Jack! I tell you there is no lake!”
Frank tried to check his friend, but Diamond made a swinging blow at him, which Merriwell managed to stop.
“Wait—listen a moment!” entreated Frank.