It was Mescal and again he had made a desperate play to get possession of Dick Merriwell, for Frank was confident it had been the intention of the fellow to abduct the boy.
Mescal now fled like a deer out through the gate, sprang into the carriage standing there, tore the reins from the hands of the driver, snatched out the whip, cut the horses, and was carried away just as Frank came up.
For a moment Merry contemplated pursuing the desperado, but he quickly decided that it would be folly to make the attempt.
Black Elrich came rushing out through the gate, shouting:
“Stop! stop there! By heavens! he’s running off with my team!”
Frank faced the gambler, his eyes flashing.
“The job failed, Elrich,” he said cuttingly. “It was a daring attempt, and rather foolish, I think.”
“The man is crazy!” said Black Ben.
“Crazy to make a play for ransom-money,” said Merry. “I know him, and I’ll see that the police of Denver are put on his track. If he is caught, he may squeal and expose his pals. In that case, Mr. Elrich, you are liable to feel rather uncomfortable.”
“Do you mean to insinuate——”