Frank Merriwell's Triumph; Or, The Disappearance of Felicia

by Burt L. Standish

“Fly at it!” whispered Frank, in satisfaction. “Go at each other, and do your prettiest. Cut each other’s throats, and I will applaud you, you rascals!”

But the two scoundrels did not engage in an encounter. After growling a little at each other, they proceeded with the horses to a part of the courtyard where the stables seemed to be, and there disappeared. Merry did not have to watch long for their return. They again crossed the open space below and disappeared; but, listening where he stood, he heard their voices, and they seemed ascending stairs not far away.

His curiosity now fully aroused, with a pistol in his hand, Frank stole onward as swiftly as possible in an attempt to keep track of them. He left the terrace and came to the stairs by which they ascended. Even as he stole like a panther up those stairs, he caught the hum of voices and the flash of a light.

Thus it was that the daring young man at last reached a dark nook, from which sheltered spot he could peer through an open door into a lighted room where several men were gathered. Beyond doubt these were the members of Black Joaquin’s band, several of whom had set upon him at San Monica Mission.

CHAPTER XI—RUFFIANS AT ODDS.

CHAPTER XI.

RUFFIANS AT ODDS.

Some of the men were idly lounging about as they smoked, while others were playing cards. The card players were gambling, and money clinked on the table before them. A picturesque and desperate-looking group they were, yet Merriwell felt and knew by experience that they were far more dangerous in appearance than in actual fact. He had met a number of them face to face, and succeeded in holding them in check with no more than the crooked staff of the old monk for his weapon of defense. They were the kind to strike at a man’s back and cower before his face.

The card players did not always get along amicably. At times they quarreled excitedly, over their game. Finally one of them lost everything and flew into a passion, roundly berating his more lucky companions. They laughed at him as they puffed their cigarettes.