Away went the cowboys in pursuit of the kidnaper and his victim, and Frank, mounted on Fleetfoot, was leading them.
The boy remembered how Swiftwing had carried off Inza.
Frank coiled up the lariat as he rode.
There was great excitement about the ranch. Men and women ran in all directions, shouting and calling.
The cowboys, headed by Merriwell, swept past to the south.
Indian Charlie looked back and saw his pursuers. He recognized the boyish leader, and ground his teeth.
“That fellow has brought me nothing but bad luck!” he grated. “I don’t care now! Let them catch me if they can! I’d like to get a shot at Merriwell myself! I wouldn’t make such a bungle of it as that fool half-breed made. I was to give Cornmeal fifty dollars, but he failed to do the job.”
Sadie Rodney had not fainted, although it seemed so at first.
“Oh, you wretch!” she exclaimed, faintly, having overheard his words. “So you hired the half-breed to kill Frank Merriwell! You are more of a wretch than I thought!”
She shuddered with horror.