“You see these men?” continued Cliff. “They are my followers, tried and true. What is it to you whether my uncle, Jim Travis, should hang for murder? You can never prove him innocent—at least, never will, for you will never go from here alive.”
“Scoundrel!” cried Frank. “You are the real murderer!”
“Ha, ha, ha! Prove it if you can!” laughed the cowboy chief, derisively.
“I will prove it, if I have to drag the confession from your lips!” cried Frank, resolutely.
“Pshaw! Talk is cheap. Attention, men! Grab the throttle rein of the Steam Man and you can destroy him! Forward! Charge!”
Frank Reade, Jr., heard the command and knew well the danger. He was at a loss to account for Cliff’s knowledge of him and his invention.
The young inventor was not aware of the fact that for weeks previous to the starting forth of the Steam Man spies had been busy in Readestown.
But such was the truth.
Artemas Cliff had covered his tracks well. He knew that Frank Reade, the young inventor’s father, was a friend of Travers and would see him through, if possible.
Therefore he had provided well for giving Frank Reade, Jr., and the new Steam Man a hot reception on the plains.