“Think?” said Frank, with a laugh. “Why, I think Macklyn Morgan has been caught in his own trap. Now let him get out of it!”
CHAPTER XXIII—NEW RICHES PROMISED.
CHAPTER XXIII.
NEW RICHES PROMISED.
When a week had passed Frank and his friends began to feel that all their troubles were over, for the time being, at least. Old Joe Crowfoot, who had been scouting in the vicinity, reported that he found no signs of probable marauders and himself settled down contentedly to smoke and loaf in the warm sunshine of the valley. With Dick and Felicia near, where he could watch them occasionally or hear their voices, the peaceful happiness of the old fellow seemed complete.
Cap’n Wiley likewise loafed to his heart’s content And if ever a person could make a whole-souled and hearty success of loafing it was the cap’n. He became so friendly with Crowfoot that old Joe even permitted him sometimes to smoke his pipe.
One beautiful morning the entire party was gathered in front of Merriwell’s cabin talking things over.
“There seems nothing now, Frank, to prevent us from securing miners and opening up this new claim,” said Hodge. “Macklyn Morgan seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Perhaps he has learned that it is dangerous for a man like him to attempt dealing with the ruffians of this part of the country,” put in Dick. “It seems certain now that he was actually carried into captivity by the very gang he employed to seize these mines.”