"Del Norte is dead," he muttered; "but he seems to be reincarnated in Felipe Jalisco. I have not seen the last of Jalisco. That man Hagan is dangerous, too. Without the backing Hagan will try to give, Jalisco would give me little trouble in regard to the mine. His claim is a forgery beyond doubt; but he seems to think it genuine. Were it not for Hagan, I might do something for the boy, if his demands were anywhere near reasonable. Hagan is determined to get his finger into the pie, and he'll want a large slice. He'll get nothing."
Finally Frank slept; but he was awakened by something that pressed sudden and hard across his throat. He tried to start up, but that thing across his throat held him helpless.
Besides that, there was a sudden weight on his breast, as of a hand that thrust him back.
Through the window of his room came a dim light, by which he discerned a dark figure that seemed crouching on the edge of the bed.
He knew instantly that some person was there. Through the gloom a pair of gleaming eyes, like those of an animal, seemed to look into his.
"Be still!" came a hissing whisper. "Make a sound and you shall die!"
By this time Frank was wide-awake, with every sense aroused.
He wondered if it was a burglar.
"Don't cry out!" again commanded his assailant. "One little cry from you will be your last! Do you feel this?"
Something keen pricked Merriwell's throat.