“I certain judge they’re after you in earnest,” said the Texan. “Cap’n Wiley left me to watch a fine gent named Morgan. I did the trick, and I’ll bet my shooting irons that Morgan has a warrant sworn out for you this minute, and he is on his way here with officers. They mean to jug you, pard, sure as shooting. You hear me gently murmur!”
“Then,” said Frank calmly, “it’s about time for me to make myself scarce in Prescott.”
“If you’re going, you want to get a move on,” declared Brad. “I am not a whole lot ahead of old Morgan and the officers.”
Even as he spoke there reached their ears the sound of many feet outside.
“Here they come!” said Dick.
With a leap, the Texan reached the door and pressed himself against it. A hand fell on the knob of the door, but the powerful shoulder of Buckhart prevented any one from entering. Immediately there was a heavy knock.
“Open this door!” commanded a voice.
“Who is there? and what do you want?” demanded Buckhart.
“We want Frank Merriwell. Open this door!”
“Perhaps you will wait some,” retorted Brad.