“Look here, Jack!” said Frank, “there is something familiar about that fellow in flannels. I’ve seen him before.”
“His voice sounded familiar to me,” nodded Diamond.
At this moment, as if he had heard their voices, the coach looked in their direction, and saw them. He gave a violent start, seemed a bit confused, and then cried:
“What are you doing there—playing the spy? Don’t you know you have no right there?”
In another instant Frank was bounding toward the spot, followed by Jack.
“No, we are not spying,” said Merriwell, “but we know a chap that is! Here he is!”
Then he pounced on the startled youth in the bushes and dragged him forth, for all of his resistance.
“Let me go, hang you!” came from the fellow Frank had exposed. “If you don’t let me go, you will be sorry!”
“I’ll let you go when I have shown you to the gentlemen in that boat down there,” declared Frank. “I have dealt with sneaks like you before.”
The spy struggled desperately, furious at the thought of exposure and disgrace.