"Back broke, leg broke, shoulder dislocated, jaw fractured, teeth knocked out, tongue bit off, and generally injured otherwise," he enumerated. "All done in a jiffy. Whatever hit me, anyhaow? Hey, Frank!"
From above Merriwell answered, and again Ephraim started to mount the stairs. He reached the top, found his way to the stage, and discovered Merry tied to the chair.
"Good-evening, Ephraim," said Frank, grimly. "You are a very welcome caller. I'm getting tired of sitting here."
"Hey?" gasped the Vermonter. "Whut in thunder——"
He stopped, his jaw snapping up and down, but not another sound issuing from his lips. He was utterly flabbergasted.
"Just set me free," invited Frank. "I'll tell you all about it later. Mazarin was one, Harris was the other. You've heard me speak of Harris. They caught me here, smashed my stuff, got away. We must catch them."
"Gol dinged if I don't think so!" shouted the Yankee, and, a moment later, he was working fiercely to set Merriwell at liberty. Finding he could not easily untie the knots, he took out his knife and slashed the ropes.
Frank sprang up.
"Come on, Ephraim!" he cried. "We'll get after those chaps."
Gallup followed Merriwell down the stairs, but both Harris and Mazarin had disappeared when the open air was reached, and all inquiries failed to put the pursuers on the track of them.