They were Black Harry's Braves, and they believed him to be Black Harry!
He reeled upon the horse he bestrode.
"What's the matter?" asked the man, quickly. "Are you hurt any way?"
"No."
The boy's voice was hoarse and unnatural.
"What can I do?" he thought. "How long will it be before they discover their mistake? I must keep up the deception, and I may find an opportunity to escape."
In a moment he had recovered his composure. As old readers know, Frank was a boy of nerve, and he began to feel very well satisfied with the situation.
"I have escaped lynching," he thought, "and these men believe me their leader. I am out of jail and now I shall be given a chance to fight for my life and honor. In order to prove my own innocence, I must capture Black Harry. This may lead me to the opportunity."
But for one thing his heart would have been filled with exultation. That one thing was the memory of Barney Mulloy, whom he had seen lying prone and motionless just within the broken door of the jail. Had they killed his faithful friend?
He feared the Irish lad had met death while trying to hold back the lynchers.