“I was convinced last night,” he said, “dat it b’long to you; but I had to swear to your father dat I never give it to any one who fail to bring da word. What could I do? I did not know. I t’ink I find some way to let you know da word after you give me all da proof dat you be Frank Merriwell.”
“You have been faithful and true, Mr. Delores,” said Merry, with a hand on the shoulder of the man. “I shall not forget. A Merriwell never forgets.”
“Dat all right,” asserted Juan, flushing. “But had we foun’ Mescal last night, I t’ink I would feel better now.”
“I do not believe Mescal will trouble any of us again,” said Frank. “It was his object to keep me from finding out what I was to do, so that I would not comply with the terms of the will. If I failed to take care of my brother, I was to have no part in the property left by my father. A false Richard might have been substituted, and there are a dozen schemes whereby Mescal could have profited had he succeeded, but he failed utterly, and now he will have to look out for himself.”
At this moment Felicia, laughing gaily, appeared at the open door of the cabin, calling:
“Oh, Frank, come out!”
Merry had told her on the previous evening that she was to call him Frank.
“What do you want?” smiled Merriwell.
“Come and see,” she urged. “I have a surprise for you. Oh, come quick!”
Laughing, he complied. She grasped him by the hand and led him round the cabin.