“Oh, Frank—Dick!” she panted. “You must find him—you must!”
The Texan quickly told Merry what had happened as related by Felicia.
Frank’s face grew grim and paled a little—a very little. His jaw hardened, and his eyes took on a strange gleam.
“I opine I know just the road they took,” said Buckhart. “She has told me all about it. I am dead certain I can go straight back over that trail.”
“Wiley,” said Merry, still with that grim command of himself, “get a move on and have some horses saddled and made ready.”
“Leave it to me,” cried the sailor, immediately taking to his heels and dusting away.
By this time others in the hotel knew what had happened, and a number of people had gathered around. Unmindful of them, Frank took Felicia on his knee as he sat on a chair and questioned her.
“Oh, Frank!” she suddenly sobbed, clasping him about the neck. “You will find Dick, won’t you?”
“As sure as I am living, Felicia,” he asserted, with that same confident calmness. “Don’t you doubt it for a moment, dear. Rest easy about that.”
“You don’t think some wild animal has got him?”