“Heap keep still,” came from old Joe. “No shot at all. Him all right. Him see gun flash, him drop quick, bullets go over um. Him fool bad palefaces a heap.”
“What’s that?” fluttered Dick. “Do you mean that he wasn’t hurt, Joe?”
“No hurt him much,” asserted the old savage, “Strong Heart he have keen eye. He watch all the time. He see gun flash. He see smoke. He drop quick.”
It was not easy to make Dick believe his brother had not been hurt, but Frank managed to convey to them by signals that he was all right. Their relief was unbounded. Indeed, Dick’s eyes filled with a mist of joy, although his anxiety was intense, for he feared that his brother might still be in a position where the enemy could get further shots at him. Frank, however, hugged the rocks closely, and there was no more shooting.
On the other side of the bowlders lay Macklyn Morgan, his evil heart filled with triumph, for he believed Merriwell had been slain. His astonishment was unbounded when he heard Frank’s voice calling his name.
“Morgan,” called Merry, “can you hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you,” answered the astounded villain. “So they didn’t kill you outright, did they?”
“Hardly that,” returned Merry. “They didn’t even touch me.”
“What did you say?” burst from Morgan. “Why, those men were the best shots in our party! They were carefully chosen for this piece of business.”
“A fine piece of business, Macklyn Morgan!” contemptuously retorted Merry. “And you planned it, I presume! You are a smooth-faced, hypocritical man of wealth, known far and wide and greatly respected because of your riches. Yet you have descended to a piece of business like this! Sukes was bad enough, Morgan; but you’re a hundred times worse. You have failed in your most dastardly plot, just as you will fail in everything. Lie still, Macklyn Morgan. Keep close to those rocks where you are, for if you show yourself you will be riddled by my watching friends. From this time on your life will not be worth a pinch of snuff if they get a chance at you.”