“Felicia!” gasped Dick.
She uttered a low cry of joy, and the cousins were clasped in each other’s arms.
“Come,” said Merry. “Moments are precious.”
“But Brad——”
“We will hope that luck may lead us to him.”
But it was something more than luck, for Brad Buckhart was returning to meet Dick as he had promised when they encountered him. He heard them, and, thinking it might be Dick, whistled the soft signal agreed upon. Immediately Dick answered, and when the Texan found them all together, he came very near throwing up his hat and giving a cowboy yell.
“Oh, great jumping horned toads!” he whispered. “If this don’t beat the record you can have my horse, saddle, and the whole blamed outfit! Talk about your miracles! So help me Davy Crockett, this is the greatest on record. You hear me gurgle!”
“There is yet danger in the air,” said Merry. “As we were seeking the passage I saw a man, leading three horses with muffled feet, crossing the courtyard below. It must have been Carlos, Black Joaquin’s lieutenant, for they planned a flight to-night, and Joaquin’s wretched gang has been drugged.”
“Guess again,” advised the Texan, chuckling. “The gent you observed was yours truly, Bradley Buckhart.”
“You?” gasped Frank, astonished.