“What will you do?” asked Dwight. “I’d like to pile right down there.”
“So would I,” said Barney. “Hooroo! give me a whack at ’em, Frank, dear.”
“You’d both lose your hair and mine, too,” said Frank. “It is growing dark rapidly now, and when night comes on I shall be able to astonish you with some of my little inventions. I shall stay here until it is perfectly dark, and then if I don’t trot down to that pass and yank those poor people out of that trap lively, then you can call Frank Reade a fool. But just you wait.”
[CHAPTER XII.]
BARRY BROWN’S SEARCH.
The reader will remember the individual who was admitted by the captain of the gang of counterfeiters in the second number of this story.
This person was Barry Brown, one of the men under Harry Hale, and a most cool and skillful secret service detective; as the reader has doubtless surmised, Jack, the tall stableman, was also a spy upon the counterfeiters who had been worked into the service of the leader by the cunning of Harry Hale.
Barry Brown had been selected by Hale to enter the counterfeiting gang, and by his skill in die-sinking and engraving, to work himself thoroughly into their confidence, for this gang conducted its secret operations on a larger scale than any other in the country, and it was worth time and patience, and all possible risk, to have the glory of bringing the rascals to justice.
This Brown was as cool as a piece of steel, and his nerves were like the same chilly metal in texture.
He was brave to a fault, but was never rash, and the greatest danger had never proved sufficiently exciting to cause him to lose his head, as the saying is.