“And you would simply make the matter worse than it is. You must leave this thing to me, Buckhart. You must hold yourself in check unless you want to injure Dick. I will deal with Macklyn Morgan.”
“You,” said Wiley. “I fancy you have hit on the outrageous and egregious truth. I don’t know just what egregious means, but it sounds well there. Morgan has scooped Richard and proposes to hold him hard and fast until he can bring you to terms.”
“I think very likely such is his plot,” nodded Merry.
“He ought to be shot!” exploded Brad. “It was a whole lot unfortunate that the ruffians who carried him off did not keep him.”
“How do you think the trick was done?” questioned Wiley.
“I haven’t decided yet,” admitted Frank. “But I feel sure my brother is nowhere in this vicinity now. It’s my object to see Morgan again without delay.”
With this object in view Merriwell lost no further time in riding straight toward Prescott. When the town was reached he set out immediately to find Morgan, having first told Brad to see Felicia and do his best to soothe her fears.
Felicia was waiting. She started up as the Texan tapped on her door.
“There, there, child!” exclaimed Mrs. Jones, who was still with her. “Sit down and keep quiet. I will see who it is.”
When the door was opened and Buckhart entered, Felicia cried out to him: