MERRIWELL SERIES

Stories of Frank and Dick Merriwell

YOUR DEALER HAS THEM!

Handsome Colored Covers

Stories of Generous Length

For three generations, the adventures of the Merriwell brothers have proven an inspiration to countless thousands of American boys.

Frank and Dick are lads of high ideals, and the examples they set in dealing with their parents, their friends, and especially their enemies, are sure to make better boys of their readers. These stories teem with fun and adventure in all branches of sports and athletics. They are just what every red-blooded American boy wants to read—they are what he must read to develop into a manly, upright man.

ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT
1—Frank Merriwell’s School Days By Burt L. Standish
2—Frank Merriwell’s Chums By Burt L. Standish
3—Frank Merriwell’s Foes By Burt L. Standish
4—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West By Burt L. Standish
5—Frank Merriwell Down South By Burt L. Standish
6—Frank Merriwell’s Bravery By Burt L. Standish
7—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour By Burt L. Standish
8—Frank Merriwell in Europe By Burt L. Standish
9—Frank Merriwell at Yale By Burt L. Standish
10—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield By Burt L. Standish
11—Frank Merriwell’s Races By Burt L. Standish
To Be Published in June, 1921.
12—Frank Merriwell’s Party By Burt L. Standish
13—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour By Burt L. Standish
To Be Published in July, 1921.
14—Frank Merriwell’s Courage By Burt L. Standish
15—Frank Merriwell’s Daring By Burt L. Standish
To Be Published in August, 1921.
16—Frank Merriwell’s Alarm By Burt L. Standish
17—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes By Burt L. Standish
18—Frank Merriwell’s Skill By Burt L. Standish
To Be Published in September, 1921.
19—Frank Merriwell’s Champions By Burt L. Standish
20—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale By Burt L. Standish
To Be Published in October, 1921.
21—Frank Merriwell’s Secret By Burt L. Standish
22—Frank Merriwell’s Danger By Burt L. Standish
To Be Published in November, 1921.
23—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty By Burt L. Standish
24—Frank Merriwell in Camp By Burt L. Standish
To Be Published in December, 1921.
25—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation By Burt L. Standish
26—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise By Burt L. Standish

In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the books listed above will be issued, during the respective months, in New York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance promptly on account of delays in transportation.

MARY J. HOLMES
CHARLES GARVICE
MAY AGNES FLEMING
MRS. GEORGIE SHELDON

Four authors enshrined in the heart of every reader of fiction in America. See the list of their works in the NEW EAGLE SERIES.

FRANK MERRIWELL’S ALARM

OR,

DOING HIS BEST

BY

BURT L. STANDISH

Author of the famous Merriwell Stories.

STREET & SMITH CORPORATION

PUBLISHERS

79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York

Copyright, 1903 By STREET & SMITH

Frank Merriwell’s Alarm

All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign

languages, including the Scandinavian.

CONTENTS

FRANK MERRIWELL’S ALARM.

[CHAPTER I.—ADRIFT IN THE DESERT.]

Once more the bicycle boys pushed on westward, and it must be said that in spite of all their perils they were in the best of spirits.

The beautiful valley in Utah was left behind, and some time later found them on the edge of the great American Desert.

Water was not to be had, and they began to suffer greatly from thirst.

The thirst at last became so great that nearly all were ready to drop from exhaustion.

Toots was much affected, and presently he let out a long wail of discouragement.

“Land of watermillions! mah froat am done parched so I ain’t gwan teh be able teh whisper if we don’ find some warter po’erful soon, chilluns! Nebber struck nuffin’ lek dis in all mah bawn days—no, sar!”

“You’re not the only one,” groaned Bruce. “What wouldn’t I give for one little swallow of water!”

“We must strike water soon, or we are done for,” put in Jack.

Toots began to sway in his saddle, and Frank spurted to his side, grasping him by the arm, as he sharply said:

“Brace up! You mustn’t give out now. The mountains are right ahead, and——”

“Lawd save us!” hoarsely gasped the darky. “Dem dar mount’ns had been jes’ as nigh fo’ de las’ two houah, Marser Frank. We don’ git a bit nearer ’em—no, sar! Dem mount’ns am a recepshun an’ a delusum. We ain’t nebber gwan teh git out ob dis desert—nebber! Heah’s where we’s gwan teh lay ouah bones, Marser Frank!”

“You are to blame for this, Merriwell,” came reproachfully from Diamond. “You were the one to suggest that we should attempt to cross instead of going around to the north, and——”

“Say, Diamond!” cried Harry; “riv us a guest—I mean give us a rest! You were as eager as any of us to try to cross the desert, for you thought we’d have it to boast about when we returned to Yale.”

“But we’ll never return.”

“Perhaps not; still I don’t like to hear you piling all the blame onto Merry.”

“He suggested it.”

“And you seconded the suggestion. We started out with a supply of water that we thought would last——”

“We should have known better!”

“Perhaps so, but that is the fault of all of us, not any one person. You are getting to be a regular kicker of late.”

Jack shot Harry a savage look.

“Be careful!” he said. “I don’t feel like standing too much! I am rather ugly just now.”

“That’s right, and you have been the only one who has shown anything like ugliness at any time during the trip. You seem to want to put the blame of any mistake onto Merry, while it is all of us——”

“Say, drop it!” commanded Frank, sharply. “This is no time to quarrel. Those mountain are close at hand, I am sure, and a last grim pull will take us to them. We will find water there, for you know we were told about the water holes in the Desert Range.”

“Those water holes will not be easy to find.”

“I have full directions for finding them. After we get a square drink, we’ll feel better, and there’ll be no inclination to quarrel.”

“Oh, water! water!” murmured Browning; “how I’d like to let about a quart gurgle down past my Adam’s apple!”

“Um, um!” muttered Rattleton, lifting one hand to his throat. “Why do you suppose a fellow’s larynx is called his Adam’s apple?”

“Nothing could be more appropriate,” declared Bruce, soberly, “for when Adam ate the apple he got it in the neck.”

Something like a cackling laugh came from Harry’s parched lips.

Diamond gave an exclamation of disgust.

“This is a nice time to joke!” he grated, fiercely.

“The matter with you,” said Rattleton, “is that you’ve not got over thinking of Lona Ayer, whom you were mashed on. You’ve been grouchy ever since you and Merry came back from your wild expedition into the forbidden Valley of Bethsada. It’s too bad, Jack——”

“Shut up, will you! I’ve heard enough about that!”

“Drop it, Harry,” commanded Frank, warningly. “You’ve worn it out. Forget it.”

“Great Scott!” grunted Browning. “I believe my bicycle is heavier than the dealer represented it to be.”

“Think so?” asked Rattleton.

“Sure.”

“Then give it a weigh.”

Browning’s wheel gave a sudden wobble that nearly threw him off.

“Don’t!” he gasped. “It’s not original. You swiped it from the very same paper that had my Adam’s apple joke in it.”

“Well, it was simply a case of retaliation.”

“I’d rather have a case of beer. Oh, say!—a case of beer! I wouldn’t do a thing to a case of beer—not a thing! Oh, just to think of sitting in the old room at Traeger’s or Morey’s and drinking all the beer or ale a fellow could pour down his neck! It makes me faint!”

“You should not permit yourself to think of such a thing as beer,” said Frank, jokingly. “You know beer will make you fat.”

“Don’t care; I’d drink it if it made me so fat I couldn’t walk. I’d train down, you know. Dumbbells, punchin’ bag, and so forth.”

“Speaking of the punching bag,” said Frank, “makes me think of a good thing on Reggy Stevens. You know Stevens. He’s near-sighted. Goes in for athletics, and takes great delight in the fancy manner in which he can hammer the bag. Well, he went down into the country to see his cousin last spring. Some time during the winter his cousin had found a big hornets’ nest in the woods, and had cut it down and taken it home. He hung it up in the garret. First day Stevens was there he wandered up into the garret and saw the hornets’ nest hanging in the dim light. ‘Ho!’ said Reggy. ‘Didn’t know cousin had a punching bag. Glad I found it. I’ll toy with it a little.’ Then he threw off his coat and made a rush at that innocent looking ball. With his first blow he drove his fist clean through the nest. ‘Holy smoke!’ gasped Reggy; ‘what have I struck?’ Then the hornets came pouring out, for the nest was not a deserted one. They saw Reggy—and went him several better. Say, fellows, they didn’t do a thing to poor Reggy! About five hundred made for him, and it seemed to Reggy that at least four hundred and ninety-nine of them got him. His howls started shingles off the roof of that old house and knocked several bricks out of the chimney. He fell down the stairs, and went plunging through the house, with a string of hornets trailing after him, like a comet’s tail. The hornets did not confine themselves strictly to Reggy; some of them sifted off and got in their work on Reggy’s cousin, aunt, uncle, the kitchen girl, the hired man, and one of them made for the dog. The dog thought that hornet was a fly, and snapped at it. One second later that dog joined in the general riot, and the way he swore and yelled fire in dog language was something frightful to hear. Reggy didn’t stop till he got outside and plunged his head into the old-fashioned watering trough, where he held it under the surface till he was nearly drowned. The whole family was a sight. And Reggy—well, he’s had the swelled head ever since.”

Rattleton laughed and Bruce managed to smile, while Toots gave a cracked “Yah, yah!” but Diamond failed to show that he appreciated the story in the least.

However, it soon became evident that the spirits of the lads had been lightened somewhat, and they pedaled onward straight for the grim mountains which had seemed so near for the last two hours.

The sun poured its stifling heat down on the great desert, where nothing save an occasional clump of sage brush could be seen.

Heat shimmered in the air, and it was not strange that the young cyclists were disheartened and ready to give up in despair.

Suddenly a cry came from Diamond.

“Look!” he shouted. “Look to the south! Why haven’t we seen it before? We’re blind. Water, water!”

They looked, and, at a distance of less than a mile it seemed they could see a beautiful lake of water, with trees on the distant shore. The reflection of the trees showed in the mirror-like surface of the blue lake.

“Come on!” hoarsely cried Jack, as he turned his wheel southward. “I’ll be into that water up to my neck in less than ten minutes!”

“Stop!” shouted Merriwell.

Jack did not seem to hear. If he heard, he did not heed the command. He was bending far over the handlebars and using all his energy to send his wheel spinning toward the beautiful lake.

“I must stop him!” cried Frank. “It is a race for life!”

Frank forgot that a short time before Jack Diamond had accused him of leading them all to their doom by inducing them to attempt to cross the barren waste—he forgot everything save that his comrade was in danger.

No, he did not forget everything. He knew what that race meant. It might exhaust them both and render them unable to ride their wheels over the few remaining miles of barren desert between them and the mountain range. When Diamond learned the dreadful, heart-sickening truth about that beautiful lake of water it might rob his heart of courage and hope so that he would drop in despair and give himself up to death in the desert.

Frank would save him—he must save him! He felt a personal responsibility for the lives of every one of the party, and he had resolved that all should return to New Haven in safety.

“Stop, Jack!” he shouted again.

But the sight of that beautiful lake had made Diamond mad with a longing to plunge into the water, to splash in it, to drink his fill till not another swallow could he force down his throat.

Madly he sent his wheel flying over the sandy plain, panting, gasping, furious to reach the lake.

How beautiful the water looked! How cool and inviting was the shade of the trees on the other shore! Oh, he would go around there and rest beneath those trees.

Frank bent forward over the handlebars, muttering:

“Ride now as you never rode before!”

The wheel seemed to leap away like a thing of life—it flew as if it possessed wings.

But Frank did not gain as swiftly as he desired, for Diamond, also, was using all his energy to send his bicycle along.

“Faster! faster!” panted Frank.

Faster and faster he flew along. The hot breath of the desert beat on his face as if it came rushing from the mouth of a furnace. It seemed to scorch him. Fine particles of sand whipped up and stung his flesh.

He heard a strange laugh—a wild laugh.

“Heaven pity him!” thought Frank, knowing that laugh came from Jack’s lips. “The sight of that ghostly lake has nearly turned his brain with joy. I fear he will go mad, indeed, when he knows the truth.”

On sped pursued and pursuer, and the latter was still gaining. Frank Merriwell had engaged in many contests of skill and endurance, but never in one where more was at stake. His success in overtaking his friend meant the saving of a human life—perhaps two lives.

Now he was gaining swiftly, and something like a prayer of thankfulness came from his lips.

Once more he cried out to the lad in advance, but it seemed that Diamond’s ears were dumb, for he made no sound that told he heard.

One last spurt—Frank felt that it must bring him to Diamond’s side. He gathered himself, his feet clinging to the flying pedals as if fastened there.

A slip, a fall, a miscalculation might mean utter failure, and failure might mean death for Diamond.

Now Frank was close behind his friend. He could hear the whirring sound of the spokes of Diamond’s wheel cutting the air, and he could hear the hoarse, panting breathing of his friend.

A steady hand guided Merriwell’s wheel alongside that of his friend; a steady and a strong hand fell on the shoulder of the lad who had been crazed by the alluring vision of the lake in the desert.

“Stop, Jack!”

Diamond turned toward his friend a face from which a pair of glaring eyes looked out. His lips curled back from his white teeth, and he snarled:

“Hands off! Don’t try to hold me back! Can’t you see it, you fool! The lake—the lake!”

“There is no lake!”

“Yes, there is! You are blind! See it!”

“Stop, Jack! I tell you there is no lake!”

Frank tried to check his friend, but Diamond made a swinging blow at him, which Merriwell managed to stop.

“Wait—listen a moment!” entreated Frank.

But the belief that a lake of water lay a short distance away had completely driven anything like reason from Diamond’s head.

“Hands off!” he shouted. “If you try to stop me you’ll be sorry!”

Frank saw he must resort to desperate measures. He secured a firm grip on the shoulder of the young Virginian, and, a moment later, gave a surge that caused them both to fall from their wheels.

Over and over they rolled, and then lay in a limp heap on the desert, where the earth was hot and baked and the sun beat down with a fierce parching heat.

Diamond was the first to stir, and he tried to scramble up, his one thought being to mount his wheel again and ride onward toward the shimmering lure.

Frank seemed to realize this, for he caught at his friend, grasped him and held him fast.

Then there was a furious struggle there on the desert, Diamond making a mad effort to break away, but being held by Frank, who would not let him go.

The eyes of both lads glared and their teeth were set. Frank tried to force Diamond down and hold him, but Jack had the strength of an insane person, and, time after time, he flung his would-be benefactor off.

The eyes of the young Virginian were red and bloodshot, while his lips were cracked and bleeding. His cap was gone, and his straight dark hair fell in a tousled mass over his forehead.

Occasionally muttered words came from Diamond’s lips, but the other was silent, seeming to realize that he must conquer the mad fellow by sheer strength alone.

So they fought on, their efforts growing weaker and weaker, gasping for breath. Seeing that fierce struggle, no one could have imagined they were anything but the most deadly enemies, battling for their very lives.

At last, after some minutes, Diamond’s fictitious strength suddenly gave out, and then Frank handled and held him with ease. Merriwell pinned Jack down and held him there, while both remained motionless, gasping for breath and seeking to recover from their frightful exertions.

“You fool!” whispered the Virginian, bitterly. “What are you trying to do?”

“Trying to save your life, but you have given me a merry hustle for it,” answered Frank.

“Save my life! Bah! Why have you stopped me when we were so near the lake.”

“There is no lake.”

“Are you blind? All of us could see the lake! It is near—very near!”

“I tell you, Jack, there is no lake.”

“You lie!”

“You have been crazed by what you fancied was water. Some time you will ask my pardon for your words.”

“You will ask my pardon for stopping me in this manner, Frank Merriwell! You did it because I was the first to discover the lake! You were jealous! You did not wish me to reach it first! I know you! You want to be the leader in everything.”

“If you were not half crazy now, you would not utter such words, Jack.”

“Oh, I know you—I know!”

Then Diamond’s tone and manner suddenly changed and he began to beg:

“Please let me up, Merry—please do! Oh, merciful heaven! I am perishing for a swallow of water! And it is so near! There is water enough for ten thousand men! And such beautiful trees, where the shadows are so cool—where this accursed sun can’t pour down on one’s head! Please let me up, Frank! I’ll do anything for you if you’ll only let me go to that lake!”

“Jack, dear old fellow, I am telling you the truth when I say there is no lake. There could be no lake here in this burning desert. It is an impossibility. If there were such a lake, the ones I asked about the water-holes would have told me.”

“They did not know. I have seen it, and I know it is there.”

Frank allowed his friend to sit up.

“Look, Jack,” he said; “where is your lake?”

Jack looked away to the south, the east, the north, and then toward the west, where lay the mountains.

There was no lake in sight.

[CHAPTER II.—ON TO THE MOUNTAINS.]

“Where—where has it gone?” slowly and painfully asked Diamond. “I am sure I saw it—sure! The lake, the trees, all gone!”

“I told you there was no lake.”

“Then—then it must have been a mirage!”

“That is exactly what it was.”

With a deep groan of despair Diamond fell back limply on the sand, as if the last bit of strength and hope had gone from him.

“This ends it!” he gasped. “What’s the use of struggling any more! We may as well give up right here and die!”

“Not much!” cried Merriwell, with attempted cheerfulness. “That is why I ran you down and dragged you from your wheel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew the mirage might lure you on and on into the desert, seeming to flee before you, till at last it would vanish in a mocking manner, and you, utterly exhausted and spirit-broken, would lie down and die without another effort.”

Jack was silent a few moments.

“And you did all this for me?” he finally asked. “You pursued and pulled me from my wheel to—to save me?”

“Yes.”

Another brief silence.

“Frank.”

“Well, Jack?”

“I was mad.”

“You looked it.”

“My thirst—the sight of what I took to be water—the shadows of the trees! Ah, yes, I was mad, Frank!”

“Well, it’s all over now.”

“Yes, it is all over. The jig’s up!”

“Nonsense! Get a brace on, old man. We must get to the mountains. It is our only chance, Jack.”

“The mountains! I shall never reach the mountains, Frank. I am done for—played out!”

“That’s all rot, old fellow! You are no more played out than I am. We are both pretty well used up, but we’ll pull through to the mountains and get a drink of water.”

“You never give up.”

“Well, I try never to give up.”

“Frank, I want you to forgive me for what I said before we saw the mirage. You know I was making a kick.”

“Oh, never mind that! It’s all right, Jack.”

“I want you to say you forgive me.”

“That’s dead easy. Of course I forgive you. Think I’m a stiff to hold a grudge over a little matter like that?”

Diamond looked his admiration from his bloodshot eyes.

“You’re all right, Merry,” he hoarsely declared. “You always were all right. I knew it all along. Sometimes I get nasty, for I have a jealous nature, although I try to hold it in check. I never did try to hold myself in check in any way till I knew you and saw how you controlled your tastes and passions. That was a revelation to me, Merry. You know I hated you at first, but I came to admire you, despite myself. I have admired you ever since. Sometimes the worst side of my nature will crop out, but I always know I am wrong. Forgive me for striking you.”

“There, there, old chap! Why are you thinking of such silly things? You are talking as if you had done me a deadly wrong, and this was your last chance to square yourself.”

“It is my last chance—I am sure of that. I am played out, and I can’t drive that wheel farther. It’s no use—I throw up the sponge right here.”

A look of determination came to Frank’s face.

“You shall not do anything of the kind!” he cried. “I won’t have it, Jack!”

Diamond did not reply, but lay limp on the ground. Frank put a firm hand on his shoulder, saying:

“Come, Jack, make a bluff at it.”

“No use!”

“I tell you it is! Come on. We can reach the mountains within an hour.”

“The mountains!” came huskily from Diamond’s lips. “God knows if there are any mountains! They, too, may be a mirage!”

“No! no!”

“Think—think how long we have been riding toward them and still they seemed to remain as far away as they were hours ago.”

“That is one of the peculiar effects of the air out here.”

“I do not believe any of us will reach the mountains. And if we should, we might not find water. Those mountains look baked and barren.”

“Remember, I was told how to find water there.”

But this did not give the disheartened boy courage.

“I know you were told, but the man who told you said that at times that water failed. It’s no use, Frank, the game is not worth the candle.”

Then it was that Merriwell began to grow angry.

“I am ashamed of you, Diamond!” he harshly cried. “I did think you were built of better stuff! Where is your backbone! Come, man, you must make another try!”

“Must?” came rather defiantly from Jack. “I’ll not be forced to do it!”

“Yes, you will!”

The Virginian looked at Frank in astonishment.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean that you will brace up and attempt to reach the mountains with the rest of us, or I’ll give you the blamedest licking you ever had—and there won’t be any apologies afterward, either!”

That aroused Jack somewhat.

“You—you wouldn’t do that—now?” he faltered.

“Wouldn’t I?” cried Frank, seeming to make preparations to carry out his threat. “Well, you’ll see!”

“But—but——”

“There are no buts about it! Either you get up and make one more struggle, or I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you are not in condition to make a struggle when I leave you. This is business, and it’s straight from the shoulder!”

Diamond remonstrated weakly, but Frank seemed in sober earnest.

“I believe it would do you good,” he declared. “It would beat a little sense into you. It’s what you want, anyway.”

A sense of shame came over Jack.

“If you’ve got enough energy to give me a licking, I ought to have enough to make another try for life,” he huskily said.

“Of course you have.”

“Well, I’ll do it. It isn’t because I fear the licking, for that wouldn’t make any difference now, but I can make another try for it, if you can.”

Frank dragged the other boy to his feet, and then picked up their fallen wheels. Jack was so weak that he could scarcely stand, seeming to have been quite exhausted by his last furious struggle with the boy who had raced across the desert sands to save his life. Twice Frank caught him and kept him from falling.

“What’s the use?” Diamond hoarsely whispered. “I tell you I can’t keep in the saddle!”

“And I tell you that you must! There are the other fellows, coming this way. I will signal them to ride toward the mountains, and we will join them.”

Frank made the signal, and the others understood, for they soon turned toward the mountains again.

Then Merriwell aided Jack in mounting and getting started, mounting himself after that, and hurrying after the Virginian, whose wheel was making a very crooked track across the sand.

When it was necessary Frank supported Jack with a hand on the arm of the dark-faced lad, speaking encouraging words into his ear, urging him on.

And thus they rode toward the barren-looking Desert Range, where they must find water or death.

They came to the mountains at last, when the burning sun was hanging a ball of fire in the western sky. From a distance Merriwell had singled out Split Peak, which had served as his guide. At the foot of Split Peak were two water-holes, one on the east and one on the south.

First Frank sought for the eastern water-hole, and he found it.

But it was dry!

Dry, save for the slightest indication of moisture in the sand at the bottom of the hole.

“I told you so!” gasped Diamond, as he fell to the ground in hopeless exhaustion. “There is no water here.”

“Wait,” said Frank, hoarsely. “We’ll see if we can find some. Come, boys; we must scoop out the sand down there in the hole—we must dig for our lives.”

“By golly!” said Toots; “dis nigger’s reddy teh dig a well fo’ty foot deep, if he can fine about fo’ swallers ob wattah.”

“A well!” muttered Rattleton. “We’ll sink a shaft here!”

“Well, I don’t know!” murmured Browning.

So they went to work, two of them digging at a time, and, with their hands, they scooped out the sand down in the water-hole. As they worked a little dirty water began to trickle into the hole.

“Yum! yum!” muttered Toots, his eyes shining. “Nebber saw muddy wattah look so good befo’! I done fink I can drink ’bout a barrel ob dat stuff!”

They worked until quite exhausted, and then waited impatiently for the water to run into the hole. It rose with disheartening slowness, but rise it did.

When he could do so, Frank dipped up some of the water with his drinking cup and gave it to Jack first of all.

Diamond’s hands shook so with eagerness that he nearly spilled the water, and he greedily turned it down his parched throat at a gulp.

“Merciful goodness! how sweet!” he gasped. “More, Frank—more!”

“Wait a bit, my boy. You have had the first drink from this hole. The others must take their turn now. When it comes around to you again, you shall have more.”

“But there may not be enough to go around!” Jack almost snarled. “What good do you think a little like that can do a fellow who is dying of thirst? I must have more—now!”

“Well, you can’t have another drop till the others have taken their turn—not a taste!”

When Frank spoke like that he meant what he said, and Jack knew it. But the little water he had received had maddened Diamond almost as much as had the mirage. As Frank turned toward the water-hole, Jack started to spring upon him, crying:

“We’ll see!”

“Hold on!” said Browning, as one of his hands went out and grasped Diamond. “I wouldn’t do that. You are excited. I reckon I’ll have to sit on you, while you cool off.”

Then the big fellow took Jack down, and actually sat on him, while the Virginian raved like a maniac.

“Poor fellow!” said Frank, pityingly. “He has almost lost his reason by what he has passed through.”

One by one the others received some of the water, and then it came Jack’s turn once more. By this time he was silent, but there was a sullen light in his eyes. When Frank passed him the water in the drinking cup he shook his head, and refused to take it.

“No!” he muttered. “I won’t have it! Drink it all up! You don’t care anything about me! Let me die!”

“Well, hang a fool!” snorted Browning, in great disgust.

“Say, jes’ yo’ pass dat wattah heah, Marser Frank, an’ see if dis coon’ll refuse teh let it percolate down his froat!”

“Yes, give it to Toots!” grated Diamond. “You think more of him than you do of me, anyway! Give it to him!”

“Don’t chool with that fump—I mean don’t fool with that chump!” snapped Rattleton. “Let him have his own way! He’s got a bug in his head; that’s what ails him.”

“Let him alone, Bruce,” said Frank, quietly. “I want to talk to him.”

“He struck at you behind your back.”

“Never mind; he won’t do so again.”

“Oh, you don’t know!” muttered Diamond.

“Yes, I do,” declared Frank, with confidence.

“Never mind us, fellows. I want a little quiet talk with Jack.”

They understood him, and the two lads were left alone.

[CHAPTER III.—THE SKELETON.]

Frank began talking to Diamond in a smooth, pleasant way, appealing to his sense of justice. At first Jack turned away, as if he did not care to listen, but he heard every word, and he was affected.

“You are not yourself, old fellow,” said Frank, softly, placing his hand gently on Diamond’s shoulder. “If you were yourself you would not be like this. It is the burning desert, the blazing sun, the frightful thirst—these have made you unlike yourself. I don’t mind anything you have said about me, Jack, for I know you are my friend, and you would not think of saying such things under ordinary circumstances. A little while ago, away out on the desert, you told me that much. It was then that reason came back to you for a little while. Knowing how you have suffered, I gave you the first drink from this water-hole. The water ran in slowly, and I did not know that there would be enough to go around twice. You were not the only one who had suffered from thirst, but the others made no objection to your having the first drink—they wanted you to have it. But it was necessary that they should have some of the water, so that all of us would be in condition to search for the other water-hole. Surely, old fellow, you see the common sense of this. And now, Jack, look—the water has cleared, and more is running into the hole. It will quench your thirst, and you will be yourself again. You are my friend, and I am yours. We stand ready to fight for each other at any time. If one of my enemies were to try to get at me behind my back, why, you would——”

“Strangle the infernal cur!” shouted Diamond. “Give me that water, Frank! You are all right, and I’m all wrong! Just let me have a chance to fight for you, and see if I don’t fight as long as there is a drop of blood in my body!”

Merriwell had conquered, but he showed no sign of triumph, although he quietly said:

“I knew all the while, dear old fellow; in fact, I believe I know you better than you know yourself.”

Then, when the others came up, ready to jolly Diamond about refusing to drink, Frank checked them with a gesture.

Jack felt better when he had taken a second drink of water. As water had risen in the hole, all the boys were able to get another round, and the spirits of all of them were raised.

“I believe we have some hard bread and jerked beef, haven’t we, Merry?” asked Browning.

“Yes.”

“Well, we are all right, then. Can’t knock us out now. All I need is a good chance to rest.”

“Oh, you need rest!” nodded Rattleton. “You always need that. You can take more rest and not complain than any fellow I ever saw.”

“Young man,” said Bruce, loftily, “it won’t work. I refuse to let you get me on a string, so drop it.”

“You’ll be lucky if you get out of this part of the country without getting on a string with the other end hitched to the limb of a tree.”

“That reminds me,” drawled Bruce; “at the last town where we stopped I asked a citizen if there were any horse thieves in that locality, and he said there were two of ’em hanging around there the night before.”

“Yes,” nodded Harry, “that was the place where they said they were going to stop lynching if they had to hang every durned lyncher they could catch.”

“Boys,” laughed Merriwell, “we are all right. When you chaps get to springing those things I feel there is no further danger. We’ll pull out all right.”

“Suttinly, sar,” grinned Toots. “I’s gwan teh bet mah money on dis crowd ebry time, chilluns. We’s hot stuff, an’ dar ain’t nuffin’ gwan teh stop us dis side ob San Francisco—no, sar!”

Finally, refreshed and filled with new hope, the boys mounted their wheels and started to seek for the second water-hole.

Frank led the way, and they turned to the south, riding along the base of some barren cliffs.

“Are you sure we’ll be able to find our way back to the water-hole we have left if we fail to discover the other one?” asked Rattleton.

“I am taking note of everything, and I do not think there will be any difficulty,” answered Frank.

They had proceeded in this manner for about two miles when they saw before them a place where the barren cliffs opened into a pass that seemed to lead into the mountains.

“There is our road!” cried Merriwell, cheerfully. “It should lead us straight to the second water-hole.”

“Yah! yah!” laughed Toots. “Cayarn’t fool dat boy, chilluns! He knows his business, yo’ bet! Won’t s’prise me a bit if he teks us stret to a resyvoyer—no, sar!”

They made for the pass, and, in a burst of energy, the colored boy spurted to the front, taking the lead.

Of a sudden, as they approached a point where the bluffs narrowed till they were close together, the negro gave a sudden wild howl of terror, tried to turn his wheel about and went plunging headlong to the ground.

“Wow!” gasped Rattleton. “What’s struck him?”

“Something is the matter with him, sure as fate,” said Frank.

Toots was seen to sit up and stare toward the wall of stone, while it was plain that he was shaking as if struck by an attack of ague. Then he tried to scramble up, but fell on his knees, with his hands clasped and uplifted in a supplicating attitude, while he wildly cried:

“Go ’way, dar, good Mr. Debbil! I ain’t done nuffin’ teh yo’! Please don’ touch me! I’s nuffin’ but a po’ good-fo’-nuffin’ nigger, an’ I ain’t wuff bodderin’ wif—no, sar! Dar am some white boys wif me, an’ I guess yo’ll lek them a heap sight better. Jes’ yo’ tek one of them, good Mr. Debbil!”

“Has he gone daffy, too?” muttered Frank, in astonishment.

Then the boys came whirling up and sprang from their wheels, at which Toots made a scramble for Frank, caught hold of his knees, and chatteringly cried:

“Don’ yeh let him kerry me off, Marser Frank! I knows yo’ ain’t afeared of nuffin’, so I wants yeh ter protect po’ Toots from de debbil wif de fiery eyes!”

But Frank was so astonished that he scarcely heard a word the colored boy uttered.

Seated on a block of stone in a niche of the wall was a human skeleton. It was sitting bolt upright and seemed to be staring at the boys with eyes that flashed a hundred shades of light.

“Poly hoker—no, holy poker!” palpitated Harry, leaning hard on his wheel. “What have we struck?”

For a time the others were speechless.

Wonderfully and fantastically was the skeleton decorated. On its head was a rude crown that seemed to be of glittering gold, while gold bracelets adorned its arms. About the fleshless neck was a chain of gold, to which a large locket was attached, and across the ribs was strung a gold watch-chain, while there were other fantastic and costly ornaments dangling over those bones of a human being.

The eyes of the skeleton, flashing so many different lights, seemed to be two huge diamonds of enormous value.

No wonder the young cyclists stared in astonishment at the marvelously bejeweled skeleton!

“Well,” drawled Browning, with his usual nonchalance, “the gentleman seems to have dressed up in his best to receive us. Some one must have sent him word we were coming.”

Toots, seeing the others did not seem frightened, had got on his feet and picked up his bicycle.

“Goodness!” muttered Diamond. “If all those decorations are solid gold, there is a small fortune in sight!”

“What is the meaning of this, Frank?” asked Rattleton. “How do you suppose this skeleton happens to be here?”

“Ask me something easy,” said Merriwell, shaking his head.

“The skeleton must have been decorated in that manner by some living person,” asserted Rattleton.

“But where is that person?”

“Not here, that is sure.”

“It may be a warning,” said Jack, gloomily.

“Warning, nothing!” exclaimed Frank. “It is plain the thing has been left there by some person, and we are the discoverers. It must be that the skeleton is that of some poor devil who perished here for want of water.”

“And it may be that the one who placed it there perished also,” said Rattleton.

“Very likely.”

“In which case,” came eagerly from Jack’s lips, “all that treasure belongs to us! Boys, it is a wonderful stroke of fortune! We have made enough to take the whole of us through Yale, and——”

“If we ever get back to Yale, old fellow! This unfortunate fellow perished here, and our fate may be similar.”

“Boo!” shivered Browning. “That’s pleasant to think about!”

“More than that,” Frank went on, “the treasure does not belong to us if we can find the real owner or his heirs.”

The excitement and interest of the boys was great. They were eager to examine the decorations of the mysterious skeleton.

“We’ll stack our wheels, and then one of us can climb up and make an inspection,” said Frank.

So they proceeded to stack their wheels, Toots observing:

“Yo’ can fool wif dat skillerton if yo’ wants to, chilluns, but dis nigger’s gwan teh keep right away from it. Bet fo’ dollars it will jest reach out dem arms and grab de firs’ one dat gits near it. Wo-oh! Land ob wartermillions! it meks me have de fevah an’ chillins jes’ to fink ob it!”

“We’ll draw lots to see who goes up,” said Frank, winking at the others. “You will have to go if it falls to you, Toots.”

“Oh, mah goodness!” gasped the frightened darky. “I ain’t gwan teh draw no lots, Marser Frank—no, sar! I’s got a po’erful bad case ob heart trouble, an’ mah doctah hab reckermended dat I don’t fool roun’ no skillertons. He said it might result distrus if I boddered wif skillertons.”

“What’s that?” cried Frank, sternly. “Would you drink your share of water when water is so precious and not take even chances with the rest of us in any danger?”

“Now, Marser Frank!” cried the darky, appealingly; “don’ go fo’ to be too hard on a po’ nigger! De trubble wif me is dat I’m jes’ a nacheral bo’n coward, an’ I can’t git over hit nohow. Dat’s what meks mah heart turn flip-flops ebry time dar’s any dangar, sar.”

“But think of the treasure up there that we have found. If it should fall to you to investigate, and you were to bring down that treasure, of course you would receive your share, the same as the rest of us.”

“Lawd bress yeh, honey! I don’ want no treasure if I’ve goter go an’ fotch hit down. I’d a heap sight rudder nebber hab no treasure dan git wifin reachin’ distance of dat skillerton—yes, sar!”

“Don’t fool with him, Merry,” said Diamond, impatiently. “Of course you don’t expect to send him up, and you won’t think of giving him any part of the treasure.”

Frank flashed a look at the Virginian, and saw that Jack was in earnest.

“You are mistaken, old man,” he said. “I do not expect Toots to go up there, but, if there is a real treasure and it is divided, you may be sure he will receive his share.”

“Oh, well!” cried Jack, somewhat taken aback; “of course I don’t care what you do about that, but I thought you were in earnest about what you were saying.”

“The trouble with you,” muttered Rattleton, speaking so low that Jack could not hear him, “is that you never see through a joke.”

“Come,” spoke Browning, “if we’ve got to take chances to see who goes up and makes the examination, come on. I hope to get out of it myself, but if I must, I must.”

“We need not take chances,” said Frank, promptly. “I will go.”

“It will not be difficult, for it is no climb at all,” said Jack. “Two of us can swing ourselves up there in a moment, and I will go with you, Merry.”

Then it was that Rattleton suddenly gave a great cry of stupefied amazement.

“What’s the matter?” asked Merriwell.

“Look! Look!” gasped Harry, pointing toward the niche in the rocks. “The skeleton—it has disappeared!”

They looked, and, dumb for the time with amazement and dismay, they saw Rattleton spoke the truth.

The mysterious skeleton had vanished!

[CHAPTER IV.—“INDIANS!”]

“Gone!” cried Jack.

“Sure!” nodded Frank.

“Lordy massy sakes teh goose-grease!” gasped Toots, again shivering with terror. “Didn’t I done tole yeh, chilluns! If yo’ know when yo’ am well off, yeh’ll git erway from heah jes’ as quick as yeh can trabbel! Oh, mah goodness!”

Shaking in every limb, the colored boy tried to get his bicycle out from the others, lost his balance, fell over, and sent the entire stack of wheels crashing to the ground.

“Well, this seems to be a regular sleight-of-hand performance,” coolly commented Browning. “Now you see it, and now you don’t; guess where it’s gone. It drives me to a cigarette.”

But he discovered that his cigarettes were gone, which seemed to concern him far more than the vanishing of the skeleton. He declared he had lost a whole package, and seemed to feel quite as bad about it as if they were solid gold.

Rattleton was excited.

“What sort of pocus-hocus—no, hocus-pocus is this, anyway?” he spluttered. “Where’s it gone? Who wayed the old thing a took. I mean who took the old thing away?”

“It couldn’t have gone away of its own accord,” said Frank, “so some one must have removed it.”

“Don’ yeh fool yo’se’f dat way, Marser Frank!” cried Toots, sitting up amid the fallen wheels. “Dat skillerton am de berry ol’ scratch hisse’f! De next thing some ob dis crowd will be disumpearin’ dat way. Gwan ter git kerried off, chilluns, if yo’ don’ git out ob dis in a hurry.”

“Oh, shut up!” snapped Diamond. “You make me tired with your chatter!”

“Mistah Dimund,” said the colored boy, with attempted dignity, “if yo’ll let dat debbil kerry yo’ off yo’ll nebber be missed—no, sar.”

Jack pretended he did not hear those words.

“Here goes to see what has become of the thing!” cried Frank, as he scrambled up to the niche where the skeleton had sat.

“I am with you!” cried Diamond, as he followed Frank closely.

Reaching the nook in the face of the cliff, they looked about for some sign of the skeleton that had been there a short time before, but not a sign of it could they see. The ghastly thing was gone, and the glittering ornaments had vanished with it. The block of stone on which the object had sat was still there.

“Well, fat do you whind—I mean what do you find?” cried Rattleton, impatiently.

“Not a thing,” was the disgusted reply. “It has gone, sure as fate!”

“So have my cigarettes!” groaned Browning.

“The treasure—is any of that there?” asked Harry, eagerly.

“Not a bit of it.”

“Well, that’s what I call an unfair deal,” murmured Bruce. “It is a blow below the belt. If the old skeleton had desired to go away, none of us would have objected, but it might have left the trimmings with which it was adorned.”

Frank was puzzled, and the more he investigated the greater grew his wonder. He knew they had seen the skeleton, yet it had vanished like fog before a blazing sun.

Jack shrugged his shoulders and shivered, saying:

“There’s something uncanny about it, old man. I believe it is a warning.”

“Nonsense!” cried Frank. “What sort of a warning?”

“A warning of the fate that awaits all of us.”

“You are not well, Jack.”

“Oh, it is not that! First we see a lake of water, and that disappears; then we see this skeleton, and now that has vanished. You must confess that there is something remarkable in it all.”

“The vanishing of the mirage came about in a natural manner, but——”

“But you must confess there was something decidedly unnatural about the vanishing of the skeleton.”

“It was removed by human hands—I will wager anything on that.”

“Then where is the human being who removed it?”

“I don’t know.”

Unable to remain below, Rattleton came climbing up to the niche.

“I’ve got to satisfy myself,” he said, as he felt about with his hands, as if he expected to discover the vanished skeleton in that manner. “I can’t see how the blamed old thing could get away!”

“Well, you can see quite as well as we can,” acknowledged Frank. “It is gone, and that is all we can tell about it.”

The boys satisfied themselves that the thing had really disappeared, and they could not begin to solve the mystery. After a time they returned to the ground.

“It am de debbil’s work!” asserted Toots. “Don’ yeh mek no misteks ’bout dat, chilluns.”

They held a “council of war,” and it was resolved that they should go on through the pass and try to find the second water-hole before darkness fell.

Already night was close at hand, and they must needs lose no time.

“We can come back here in the morning and see if we’re able to solve the mystery,” said Merriwell. “I, for one, do not feel like going away without making another attempt at it.”

“Nor I,” nodded Rattleton.

“It is folly,” declared Jack, gloomily. “I say we have been warned, and the best thing we can do is get away as soon as possible.”

“By golly! dat am de firs’ sensibul fing I’ve heard yo’ say in fo’ days!” cried Toots, approvingly.

They picked up their wheels, and soon were ready to mount.

“Here’s good-by to the vanishing skeleton for to-night,” cried Frank.

He was answered by a wild peal of mocking laughter that seemed to run along the face of the cliff in a most remarkable manner.

“Ha! ha! ha!” it sounded, hoarsely, and “Ha! ha! ha!” came down from the rocks, like a mystic echo.

“O-oh, Lordy!”

Toots made a jump for the saddle of his bicycle, but jumped too far and went clean over the wheel, striking his knee and turning in the air, to fall with a thump on the back of his neck.

“Mah goodness!” he gurgled, as he lay on the ground, dazed by the shock of the fall. “De ol’ debbil done gib meh a boost then fo’ suah!”

The other lads looked at each other in perplexity.

“Well, wh-wh-what do you think of that?” stammered Rattleton.

“He ought to file his voice, whoever he is,” coolly observed Browning. “It’s a little rough along the edges.”

“It strikes me that somebody is having fun with us,” said Merriwell, a look of displeasure on his face.

“What are you going to do about it?” asked Harry.

“We don’t seem able to do much of anything now. Come on.”

Toots scrambled up, and they mounted their wheels. As they started to ride away, a hollow-sounding voice cried:

“Stop!”

“Oh, riv us a guest—I mean give us a rest!” flung back Rattleton.

“Stop!” repeated the mysterious voice. “Do not try the pass. There is danger beyond. Turn back.”

“I told you it was a warning!” cried Jack. “What do you think of it now?”

“I think somebody is trying to have a lot of sport with us!” exclaimed Frank.

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“Not a thing. I don’t propose to pay any attention to it, Come on, fellows. We must have more water, and there’s none too much time to find it before dark.”

Diamond was tempted to declare he would not go any further, but he knew the others would stand by Frank, and so he pedaled along.

As they drew away from the spot where they had seen the skeleton, they heard the mysterious voice calling to them again, commanding them to stop and turn back. Thus it continued till they had ridden on so that it could be heard no longer.

Despite himself Frank had been impressed by what he had seen and heard, and a feeling of awe was on him. Ahead the shadows were thick where the dark cliffs seemed to come together, and there was something grim and overpowering about the bare and towering mountains that sullenly frowned down upon the little party.

The boys were silent, for they had no words to speak. Each was busy with his thoughts, and those thoughts were not of the most pleasant character.

A feeling of heart-sickening loneliness settled down upon them and made them long for the homes that were so far away. What satisfaction was there, after all, in this great ride across the continent? They had encountered innumerable perils, and now it seemed that they were overshadowed by the greatest peril of all.

How still it was! The mountains seemed like crouching monsters of the great desert, waiting there to spring upon and crush them out of existence. There was something fearsome and frightful in their grim air of waiting.

The whirring of the wheels was a warning whisper, or the deadly hiss of a serpent. As they passed between the frowning bluffs, which rose on either hand, the whirring sound seemed to become louder and louder till it was absolutely awesome.

Frank looked back, and of all the party Bruce Browning was the only one whose face remained stolid and impassive. It did not seem that he had been affected in the least by what had happened.

“He has wonderful nerve!” thought Merriwell.

Diamond’s dark face seemed pale, and there was an anxious look on the face of Rattleton. Toots betrayed his excitement and fear most distinctly.

Frank feared they would not get through the pass in time to find the second water-hole, and he increased his speed.

The ground was favorable for swift riding. At that time Merriwell thought it fortunate, but, later, he changed his mind.

Of a sudden the pass between the bluffs ended, and they shot out into a valley or basin.

A cry of astonishment and alarm came from Frank’s lips, and he used all his energy to check and turn his flying wheel.

Before them blazed a fire, and around that fire were gathered——

“Indians!” palpitated Harry Rattleton.

[CHAPTER V.—BLUE WOLF TRIES THE BICYCLE.]

“Indians!” echoed Jack Diamond.

“Indians?” grunted Bruce Browning, astonished.

“O-oh, Lordy!” gasped Toots. “Dis am whar a nigger boy I know is gwan teh lose his scalp fo’ suah!”

“Turn!” commanded Frank—“turn to the left, and we’ll make a run to get back through the pass.”

But they were seen, and the redskins about the fire sprang to their feet with loud whoops.

At the first whoop Toots gave a howl and threw up both hands.

“Don’ yo’ shoot, good Mistar Injunses!” he shouted. “I’s jes’ a common brack nigger, an’ I ain’t no ’count nohow. Mah scalp wouldn’ be no good teh yo’ arter——”

Then he took a header off his wobbling machine and fell directly before Jack, whose bicycle struck his body, and Diamond was hurled to the ground.

“Stop, fellows!” cried Merriwell. “We mustn’t run away and leave them! Come back here!”

From his wheel he leaped to the ground in a moment, running to Diamond’s side. Grasping Jack by the arm he exclaimed:

“Up, old fellow—up and onto your wheel! We may be able to get away now! We’ll make a bluff for it.”

But it was useless, for Jack was so stunned that he could not get on his feet, though he tried to do so.

Toots was stretched at full length on the ground, praying and begging the “good Injunses” not to bother with his scalp, saying the hair was so crooked that it was “no good nohow.”

Up came the redskins on a run and surrounded the boys, Bruce and Harry having turned back.

Browning assumed a defensive attitude, muttering:

“Well, if we’re in for a scrap, I’ll try to get a crack at one or two of these homely mugs before I’m polished off.”

There were seven of the Indians, and nearly all of them carried weapons in their hands. Although they were not in war paint, they were a decidedly ugly-looking gang, and their savage little eyes denoted anything but friendliness.

“Ugh!” grunted the tallest Indian of the party, an old fellow with a scarred and wrinkled face.

“Ugh! ugh! ugh!” grunted the others.

Then they stared at the boys and their bicycles, the latter seeming a great curiosity to them.

“Well, this is a scrolly old jape—I mean a jolly old scrape!” fluttered Rattleton. “We’re in for it!”

Toots looked up, saw the Indians, uttered another wild howl, and tried to bury his head in the sand, like an ostrich.

Frank singled out the tall Indian and spoke to him.

“How do you do?” he said.

“How,” returned the Indian, with dignity.

“Unfortunately we did not know you were here, or we should not have called,” explained Merriwell.

The savage nodded; the single black feather in his hair fluttering like a pennant as he did so.

“Um know,” he said. “Um see white boy heap much surprised.”

“Jee! he can talk United States!” muttered Rattleton.

“Talk it!” said Bruce, in disgust. “He can chew it, that’s all.”

“I trust we have not disturbed you,” said Frank, calmly; “and we will leave you in your glory as soon as my friend, who fell from his wheel, is able to mount and ride.”

“No, no!” quickly declared the tall Indian; “white boy no go ’way. Injun like um heap much.”

Browning lifted his cap and felt for his scalp.

“It may be my last opportunity to examine it,” he murmured.

“But we are in a hurry, and we can’t stop with you, however much we may desire to do so,” declared Frank, glibly. “You see we are on urgent business.”

“Yes, very urgent,” agreed Rattleton. “Smoly hoke—no, holy smoke! don’t I wish I were back to New Haven, New York, any old place!”

“White boys must stop,” said the big savage. “Black Feather say so, that settle um.”

“I am afraid it does,” confessed Browning.

Diamond got upon his feet, assisted by Frank.

“Well,” he said, somewhat bitterly, “that is what we have come to by failing to heed the warning we received!”

“Don’t go to croaking!” snapped Rattleton. “These Indians are peaceable. They are not on the war path.”

“But they are off the reservation,” said Frank, in a low tone; “and that is bad. They have us foul, and there is no telling what they may take a notion to do.”

“It’s pretty sure they’ll take a notion to do us,” sighed Harry.

The tall Indian, who had given his name as Black Feather, professed great friendliness, and, when the boys told him they had been looking for the water-hole, he said:

“Um water-hole dare by fire. Good water, heap much of it. Come, have all water um want.”

“Well, that is an inducement,” confessed Browning. “We may be able to get a square drink before we are scalped.”

It was with no small difficulty that Toots was forced to get up, and, after he was on his feet, he would look at first one Indian and then dodge, and look at another, each time gurgling:

“O-oh, Lord!”

And so, surrounded by the Indians, the boys moved over to the fire, which was near the water-hole, as Black Feather had declared.

“Well, we’ll all drink,” said Frank, as he produced his pocket cup and proceeded to fill it. “Here, fellows, take turns.”

While they were doing so the Indians were examining their bicycles with great curiosity. It was plain the savages had never before seen anything of the kind, and they were filled with astonishment and mystification. They grunted and jabbered, and then one of them decided to get on and try one of the wheels.

It happened that this one was the smallest, shortest-legged redskin of the lot, and he selected the machine with the highest frame.

“Ugh!” he grunted. “White boy ride two-wheel hoss, Injun him ride two-wheel hoss heap same. Watch Blue Wolf.”

“Yes,” said Browning, softly, nudging Merriwell in the ribs with his elbow, “watch Blue Wolf, and you will see him smash my bicycle. I sincerely hope he will break his confounded head at the same time!”

“White boy show Injun how um git on,” ordered Blue Wolf.

“Go ahead, Bruce,” directed Frank.

“Oh, thunder!” groaned the big fellow. “I’m so tired!”

But he was forced to show the Indians how he mounted the wheel, which he did, being dragged off almost as soon as he got astride the saddle.

“Ugh!” grunted Blue Wolf, with great satisfaction. “Um heap much easy. Watch Blue Wolf.”

“Yes, watch Blue Wolf!” repeated Browning. “It will be good as a circus! Oh, my poor bicycle!”

With no small difficulty the little Indian steadied the wheel, reaching forward to grasp the handlebars while standing behind it. The first time he lifted his foot to place it on the step he lost his balance and fell over with the machine.

The other Indians grunted, and Blue Wolf got up, saying something in his own language that seemed to make the atmosphere warmer than it was before.

The bicycle was lifted and held for the little Indian to make another trial. He looked as if he longed to kick it into a thousand pieces, but braced up, placed his foot on the step and made a wild leap for the saddle. He missed the saddle, struck astride the frame just back of the handlebars, uttered a wild howl of dismay, and went down in hopeless entanglement with the unfortunate machine.

“Wow!” howled Blue Wolf.

“Oh, my poor bicycle!” groaned Browning, once more.

The fallen redman kicked the bicycle into the air, but it promptly came down astride his neck and drove his nose into the dirt.

“Ugh!” grunted the watching Indians, solemnly.

“Whoop!” roared Blue Wolf, spitting out a mouthful of dirt.

Then he made another frantic attempt to cast the machine off, but it persisted in sticking to him in a wonderful manner. One of his arms was thrust through the spokes of the forward wheel to the shoulder, and as he tried to yank it out, the rear wheel spun around and one of the pedals gave him a terrific thump on the top of the head.

“Yah!” snarled the unlucky Indian.

“Two-wheel hoss kick a heap,” observed Black Feather.

Blue Wolf tried to struggle to his feet, but he was so entangled with the bicycle that it seemed to fling him down with astonishing violence.

Then as the noble red man kicked, and squirmed, and struggled, the bicycle danced and pranced upon his prostrate body like a thing of life.

“O-o-oh!” wailed Blue Wolf, in pain and fear.

Toots suddenly forgot his fears, and holding onto his side, he doubled up with a wild burst of “coon” laughter.

“Oh, land ob watermillions!” he shouted. “Dat bisuckle am knockin’ de stuffin’ out ob Mistah Injun! Yah! yah! yah! Lordy! lordy! ’Scuse meh, but I has ter laff if it costs me all de wool on mah haid!”

Browning folded his arms, a look of intense satisfaction on his face as he observed:

“I have made a discovery that will be worth millions of dollars to the government of the United States. Now I know a swift and sure way of settling the Indian question. Provide every Indian in the country with a bicycle, and there will be no Indians left in a week or two.”

“Gamlet’s host—I mean Hamlet’s ghost!” chuckled Rattleton, holding his hand over his mouth to keep from shrieking with laughter. “I never saw anything like that before!”

Merriwell sprang forward and assisted Blue Wolf in untangling himself from the wheel, fearing the bicycle would be utterly ruined.

The little Indian was badly done up. His face was cut and bleeding in several places, and he was covered with dirt. With some difficulty he got upon his feet, and then he backed away from the bicycle, at which he glared with an expression of great fear on his countenance.

“Heap bad medicine!” he observed.

It seemed that the other Indians were really amused, although they remained solemn and impassive.

“Give me hatchet!” Blue Wolf suddenly snarled. “Heap fix two-wheel hoss!”

He would have made a rush for the offending wheel, but Frank held up a hand warningly, crying:

“Beware, Blue Wolf! It is in truth bad medicine, and it will put a curse upon you if you do it harm. Your squaw will die of hunger before another moon, your children shall make food for the coyotes, and your bones shall bleach on the desert! Beware!”

Blue Wolf paused, dismay written on his face. He longed to smash the bicycle, but he was convinced that it was really “bad medicine,” and he was afraid to injure it.

“Say, that is great, old man!” enthusiastically whispered Rattleton in Merriwell’s ear. “Keep it up.”

“Blue Wolf not hurt two-wheel hoss,” declared Black Feather, who seemed to be the chief of the little band. “Want to see white boy ride.”

“Do you mean that you want me to ride?” asked Frank.

“Ugh!”

“All right,” said Frank. “I’ll show you how it is done.”

Then he motioned for the savages to stand aside.

“No try to run ’way,” warned Black Feather. “Injun shoot um.”

“All right, your royal jiblets. If I try to run away you may take a pop at me.”

[CHAPTER VI.—TRICK RIDING.]

The Indians made room for Frank to mount and ride.

Standing beside the wheel Frank sprang into the saddle without using the step, caught the pedals and started.

The savages gave utterance to a grunt of wonder and admiration.

Frank had practiced trick riding, and he now proposed to exhibit his skill, feeling that it might be a good scheme to astonish the savages.

He started the bicycle into a circle, round which he rode with the greatest ease, and then of a sudden he passed one leg over the frame, and stood up on one of the pedals, which he kept in motion at the same time.

The Indians nodded and looked pleased.

Then Frank began to step cross-legged from pedal to pedal, passing his feet over the cross bar of the frame and keeping the wheel in motion all the time.

A moment later he whirled about, and with his face toward the rear, continued to pedal the bicycle ahead the same as if he had been seated in the usual manner on the saddle.

“Heap good!” observed Black Feather.

Then, like a cat Merriwell wheeled about, lifted his feet over the handlebars to which he clung, slipped down till he hung over the forward wheel, placed his feet on the pedals, and rode in that manner. This made it look as though he were dragging the bicycle along behind him.

There was a stir among the Indians, and they looked at each other.

Without stopping the bicycle, Frank swung back over the handlebars to the saddle. Having reached this position, he stopped suddenly, turning the forward wheel at an angle, sitting there and gracefully balancing on the stationary machine.

“Heap much good!” declared Black Feather, growing enthusiastic.

“Oh, those little things are dead easy,” assured Frank, with a laugh. “Do you really desire to see me do something that is worth doing?”

“What more white boy can do?”

“Several things, but I’ll have to make a larger circle.”

It was growing dark swiftly now, the sun being down and the shadows of the mountains lying dark and gloomy in the valleys.

“Go ’head,” directed Black Feather.

Frank started the bicycle in motion, and then, with it going at good speed, he swung down on one side and slowly but neatly crept through the frame, coming up on the other side and regaining the saddle without stopping.

“Paleface boy great medicine!” said Black Feather.

“Ugh!” grunted all the Indians but Blue Wolf.

The little savage was looking on in a sullen, wondering way, astonished and angered to think the white boy could do all those things, while he had been unable to mount the two-wheeled horse.

“How do you like that, Black Feather?” asked Frank, cheerfully.

“Much big!” confessed the chief. “Do some more.”

“All right. Catch onto this.”

Then away Frank sped, lifting the forward wheel from the ground and letting it hang suspended in the air, while he rode along on the rear wheel.

“Merry is working hard enough,” said Rattleton. “I never knew he could do so many tricks.”

“There are lots of things about that fellow that none of us know anything about,” asserted Browning, who was no less surprised, although he did not show it.

“He is a fool to work so hard to please these wretched savages!” muttered Diamond.

“Now, don’t you take Frank Merriwell for a fool in anything!” came swiftly from Harry. “I never knew him to make a fool of himself in all my life, and I have seen a good deal of him.”

“Well, why is he cutting up all those monkey tricks? What will it amount to when it is all over?”

“Wait and see.”

“The Indians will treat us just the same as if he had not done those things.”

“Perhaps so.”

“Of course they will!”

“Now, Black Feather, old jiblets,” cried Frank, in his merriest manner, “I am going to do something else. Get onto this.”

Sending the bicycle along at high speed Frank lay over the handlebars and swung his feet into the air till he held himself suspended in that manner, head down and feet up.

The Indians were more pleased and astonished than ever.

“Oh, it’s all in knowing how!” laughed Frank, as he gracefully and lightly dropped back to the saddle.

Again the Indians grunted.

“Now, Black Feather, old chappie,” said Frank, “I am going to do the greatest trick of all. I’ll have to get a big start and have lots of room. Watch me close.”

Away he went, bending over the handlebars and sending the bicycle flying over the ground. He acted as if he intended to make a big circle, but suddenly turned and rode straight toward the pass by which they had entered the basin. Before the Indians could realize his intention, he was almost out of sight in the darkness of the young night.

Howls of rage and dismay broke from the redmen. They shouted after the boy, but he kept right on, quickly disappearing from view.

“There,” sighed Browning, with satisfaction, “I told you he was not doing all that work for nothing, fellows.”

“He’s done gone an’ lef us!” wailed Toots.

“That’s what he has!” grated Diamond—“left us to the mercy of these miserable redskins! That’s a fine trick!”

“Oh, will you ever get over it?” rasped Rattleton. “Why shouldn’t he? He had his chance, and he’d been a fool not to skin out!”

“I thought he would stand by us in such a scrape as this.”

“What you thought doesn’t cut any ice. He’ll come back.”

“After we are murdered.”

Rattleton would have said something more, but the Indians, who had been holding an excited conversation, suddenly grasped the four remaining lads in a threatening manner.

“Oh, mah goodness!” palpitated Toots. “Heah is whar I’s gwan teh lose mah wool! It am feelin’ po’erful loose already!”

Browning was on the point of launching out with his heavy fists and making as good battle of it as he could when he heard Black Feather say:

“No hurt white boys. Make um keep still, so um not run ’way off like odder white boy. That am all.”

“I’ll take chances on it,” muttered Bruce, giving up quietly.

The four lads were forced to sit on the ground, and some of the savages squatted near. The fire was replenished, and the Indians seemed to hold a council.

“Deciding how they will kill us,” said Diamond, gloomily.

“Nothing of the sort,” declared Rattleton. “See them making motions toward the bicycles. They are talking about the wonderful two-wheeled horses.”

“Gracious!” gasped Toots; “dat meks mah hair feel easier!”

Browning held a hand on his stomach in a pathetic manner.

“Oh, my!” he murmured. “How vacant and lonely my interior department seems to be! Methinks I could dine.”

“The hard bread and jerked beef,” whispered Jack. “It is in the carriers attached to the wheels.”

“Yes, and we had better let it remain there.”

“Why?”

“These Indians look hungry, too.”

“You think——”

“I do. They will take it away from us and eat it if we bring it out. That would leave us in a bad fix.”

“But they can get it out of the carriers.”

“They can, but they won’t.”

“Why not?”

“They are afraid of those bicycles—so afraid that they will not go near them. Therefore our hard bread and jerked beef is safe as long as we let it remain where it is.”

Harry agreed with Bruce, and they decided not to touch the food in the carriers; but all were thirsty again, and they expressed a desire to have another drink from the water-hole.

To this the Indians did not object, and they took turns at drinking, although the water did not taste nearly as sweet as it had the first time.

Having satisfied themselves in this manner they sat down on the ground once more, being compelled to do so by the redskins, who were watching them closely.

“They have us in a bad position in case they take a notion to crack us over the head,” said Harry. “We wouldn’t get a show.”

“Mah gracious!” gurgled Toots, holding fast to his scalp with both hands. “We’s gwan teh git it fo’ suah, chilluns! De fus’ fing we know we won’t no nuffin’!”

“We must get out of this somehow,” muttered Bruce.

“That’s right,” nodded Jack. “Merriwell has taken care of himself, and left us to take care of ourselves.”

He spoke in a manner that showed he felt that Frank had done them a great wrong.

“It’s a good thing he got away as he did,” asserted Harry. “Now we know we have a friend who is not a captive like ourselves, and we know he knows the fix we are in. You may be sure he will do what he can for us.”

“He’ll do what he can for himself. How can he do anything for us?”

“He’ll find a way.”

“I doubt it.”

“You have become a great doubter and kicker of late, Diamond. It is certain the loss of that Mormon girl who married the other fellow has soured you, for you were not this way before. Why don’t you try to forget her?”

“I wish you might forget her! You make me sick talking about her so much! I don’t like it at all!”

“If you don’t like it lump it.”

Jack and Harry glared at each other as if they were on the point of coming to blows, and this gave Browning an idea. He saw the Indians had noticed there was a disagreement between the boys, and he leaned forward, saying in a low tone:

“Keep at it, fellows—keep at it! I have a scheme. Pretend you are fighting, and they will let you get on your feet. When I cry ready we’ll all make a jump for our wheels, catch them up, place them in the form of a square, and stand within the square. The redskins are afraid of the wheels—think them ‘bad medicine.’ They won’t dare touch us.”

Browning had made his idea clear with surprising swiftness, and the other boys were astonished, for they had come to believe that the big fellow never had an original idea in his head.

Both Jack and Harry were taken by the scheme, and Diamond quickly said:

“It’s a go. Keep on with the quarrel, Rattleton.”

Harry did so, and in a very few seconds they were at it in a manner that seemed intensely in earnest. Their voices rose higher and higher, and they scowled fiercely, flourishing their clinched hands in the air and shaking them under each other’s nose.

Browning got into the game by making a bluff at stopping the quarrel, which seemed to be quite ineffectual. He seemed to try to force himself between them, but Rattleton hit him a hard crack on the jaw with his fist, with which he was threatening Diamond.

“Scissors!” gurgled Bruce, as he keeled over on his back, holding both hands to his jaw. “What do you take me for—a punching bag?”

“You have received what peacemakers usually get,” said Harry, as he continued to threaten Diamond.

The Indians looked on complacently, their appearance seeming to indicate that they were mildly interested, but did not care a continental if the two white boys hammered each other.

Jack scrambled to his feet and dared Harry to get up. Harry declared he would not take a dare, and he got up. Then Bruce and Toots lost no time in doing likewise, and, just when it seemed that the apparently angry lads were going to begin hammering each other Browning cried:

“Ready!”

Immediately the boys made a leap for the bicycles, caught them up, formed a square with them, and stood behind the machines, like soldiers within a fort.

The Indians uttered shouts of astonishment, and the four boys found themselves looking into the muzzles of the guns in the hands of the savages.

“What white boys mean to do?” harshly demanded Black Feather. “No can run away.”

“Heap shoot um!” howled Blue Wolf, who seemed eager to slaughter the captives. “Then no can run away.”

“Hold on!” ordered Browning, with a calm wave of his hand. “We want to parley.”

“Want to pow-wow?” asked Black Feather.

“That’s it.”

“No pow-wow with white boys. White boys Injuns’ prisoners. No pow-wow with prisoners.”

“No!” shouted Blue Wolf. “Shoot um! shoot um!”

“Land ob massy!” gurgled Toots. “Dey am gwan teh shoot!”

“Black Feather,” said Browning, with assumed assurance and dignity, “it will not be a healthy thing for your men to shoot us.”

“How? how?”

“Do you see that we are protected by the ‘bad medicine’ machines? If you were to do us harm now, these machines would utterly destroy you and every one of your party. The moment you fired at us these machines would be like so many demons let loose, and as they are not made of flesh and blood, they could not be harmed. Not one of your party could escape them.”

The light of the fire showed that the Indians looked at each other with mingled incredulity and fear.

“Wow!” muttered Rattleton. “Is this Browning I hear? How did you happen to think of such a bluff?”

“Have to think in a case like this,” returned the big fellow, guardedly. “I think only when it is absolutely necessary. This is one of those occasions.”

The Indians got together and held a consultation.

“Can’t we make a run for it now?” asked Diamond, eagerly.

“We can,” nodded Bruce, “but we won’t run far. They’d be able to drop us before we could get out of the light of the fire.”

“What can we do?”

“Why, we’ll have to——”

Browning was interrupted by a clatter of hoofs, which caused him to turn toward the East. The Indians heard the sound, and they turned also.

Then wild yells of terror rent the air.

[CHAPTER VII.—ESCAPE.]

Coming through the darkness at a mad gallop was what seemed to be the gleaming skeleton of a horse. The ribs, the bones of the neck, legs and head, all showed plainly, glowing with a white light.

And on the back of the horse, which had sheered to the north and was passing the fire, sat what seemed to be the skeleton of a human being, the bones gleaming the same as those of the horse.

It was almost an astonishing and awe-inspiring spectacle, and it frightened the Indians greatly.

“Howugh—owugh—owugh!” wailed Black Feather, dismally.

Then the savages dropped on their faces, covering their eyes, so they could not see the skeleton horseman.

Almost at the same moment as the horseman was passing the spot the ghastly appearing thing seemed to give a sudden swing about and completely disappear.

“Poly hoker!” gasped Rattleton. “It’s gone!”

“That’s right!” palpitated Diamond—“vanished in a moment!”

“Oh, mah soul—mah soul!” wailed Toots. “Dat sholy am de ol’ debbil hisse’f, chilluns! When we see it next it’s gwan teh hab one ob us fo sho!”

“Hark!” commanded Browning.

The beat of the horse’s feet could be distinctly heard, but the creature had turned about and was going back toward the pass through the bluffs.

Chucker-chucker-chuck! chucker-chucker-chuck! chucker-chucker-chuck! came the ghostly sounds of the galloping horse.

“It’s turned about!” gasped Harry, in astonishment.

“It’s going!” fluttered Jack.

“And we’d better be going, too!” put in Browning.

Then with a familiar whirring sound something came flying toward them through the darkness, causing Toots to utter a wild shriek of terror.

Into the light of the camp-fire flashed a boy who was mounted on a bicycle, and they saw it was Frank Merriwell.

“Away!” he hissed, as he flew past them. “Make straight for the pass by which we entered this pocket. I will join you.”

Then he was gone.

Browning gave Toots a sharp shake, fiercely whispering:

“Mount your wheel and keep with us if you want to save your scalp! If you don’t you will be left behind.”

Then the boys leaped upon their bicycles and were away in a moment, before the prostrate Indians had recovered from the shock of terror given them by the appearance of the skeleton horse and rider.

For the time Bruce Browning took the lead, and the others followed him. Toots had heeded the big fellow’s warning words, and he was not left behind.

Barely had they passed beyond the range of the firelight and disappeared in the darkness when wild yells of anger came from behind them, and they knew the Indians had discovered they were gone.

“Bend low! bend low!” hissed Diamond. “They may take a fancy to shoot after us! Stoop, fellows!”

Stoop they did, bending low over the handlebars of their bicycles.

Bang! bang! bang!

The Indians fired several shots, and they heard some of the bullets whistle past, but they were not hit.

“Well, that’s what I call luck!” muttered the young Virginian.

“What do you call luck?” asked Rattleton.

“The appearance of that skeleton horse and rider in time to scare the Indians and give us a chance to get away.”

“Oh!” said Harry, sarcastically, “I didn’t know but it was Merry’s return. I told you he would not desert us.”

“I wonder how he happened to come back just then?”

“He came back because he was watching for an opportunity to help us, and he saw we had a splendid chance to get away while the redskins were scared by the appearance of the horse and rider. You ought to know him well enough to know he is not the fellow to desert his friends in a scrape like this.”

Diamond was silent.

“I wonder where Frank is?” said Browning. “He said he would join us, and he is——”

“Right here, old man,” said a cheerful voice, as a flying bicycle brought Merriwell out of the darkness to Browning’s side. “This way, fellows! We’ll hit the pass and get out of here as soon as we can.”

“Lawd bress yeh, Marser Frank!” cried Toots, joyfully. “I didn’t know’s I’d see yeh no mo’, boy!”

“I hope you didn’t think I had left you for good?”

“No, sar!” declared the colored boy. “I done knows yeh better dan dat, sar! I knowed yeh’d come back, but I was afeared yeh’d come back too late, sar. Dem Injunses was gittin’ po’erful anxious fo’ dis yar wool ob mine—yes, sar!”

“Well, I am glad to know you thought I would not desert you. I don’t want any of my friends to think I would go back on them in the hour of need.”

Diamond was silent.

The pass was found without difficulty, and they went speeding through it.

“How did you happen to turn up just then, Frank?” asked Harry.

“I was waiting for a chance to come to you, and I saw the chance when that horse and rider frightened the Indians.”

“The horse and rider—where are they?” asked Browning.

“Gone through the pass ahead of us.”

“Mah gracious!” exclaimed the colored boy. “What if dat ol’ debbil teks a noshun teh wait fu’ us?”

“What sort of ghost business was it, anyway?” questioned Rattleton. “It seemed to be a skeleton horse and a skeleton rider, and it disappeared in a twinkling. I will admit this skeleton business is beginning to work on my nerves.”

“It is rather creepish,” laughed Frank; “but I do not think it is very dangerous.”

“All the same, you do not attempt to explain the mystery.”

“Not now.”

“Not now? Can you later?”

“Perhaps so.”

“It is plain he knows no more about it than the rest of us,” said Diamond. “As for me, I am getting sick of seeking vanishing lakes and vanishing skeletons. If I get out of this part of the country alive, you’ll never catch me here again.”

“Meh, too!” exclaimed Toots.

“Well, I don’t know as any of us will care to revisit it,” laughed Frank. “Anyway, we have been very lucky in escaping from those Indians. That you can’t deny.”

“You fooled them easily,” said Rattleton.

“Yes, and they did not even take a shot at me, which was a surprise. I expected they would pop away a few times.”

“What are we going to do after we get out on the open desert again?” asked Jack. “It seems to me we’ll be as bad off as ever.”

“We’ll have to go around the range to the south, or wait for the Indians to get away from that water-hole, so we can go through the mountains as we originally intended.”

“The Indians may not go away.”

“I rather think they have been scared so they’ll not hang around there long. I don’t fancy they’ll be anywhere in the vicinity by morning.”

“If they are gone——”

“We’ll be all right, providing we can make our hard bread and dried beef hold out till we can reach one of the small railroad towns.”

“How far away is the railroad?”

“Not much over fifty miles.”

“That is easy!” declared Rattleton. “We can make it on a spurt!”

As they reached the eastern opening of the pass their attention was attracted by a bright light that seemed to shine out from the very niche where they had found the jewel-decorated skeleton.

“What does that mean?” exclaimed Jack, in astonishment.

“Land ob wartermillions!” gasped Toots. “It am de debbil’s light fo’ suah, chilluns! Don’ yeh go near it!”

“By Jove!” cried Frank. “That is worth investigating! Come on, fellows!”

He headed straight toward the light, and as they came near the niche they saw the bejeweled skeleton was again seated as they had seen it in the first place, and a bright flood of light was shining upon it from some mysterious place.

“It’s back!” exclaimed Harry, in astonishment.

“Sure enough!” said Frank. “It is on deck again.”

“I tells yeh to keep away from dat skillerton!” shouted Toots. “Hit am gwan teh grab yo’ this time if yo’ gits near hit!”

“We’ll take chances on that,” declared Frank. “This time we won’t give it time to get away, but we’ll go right up and examine it.”

“That’s what we will!” agreed Harry.

But even as he spoke, the light disappeared, and this made it impossible for them to see anything up there in that dark nook.

“Ha! ha! ha!”

Again they heard the mocking laughter, smothered, hollow and ghostly in sound.

“Somebody is having lots of fun with us,” said Frank, as he leaped from his wheel. “It may be a good joke, but I fail to see where the ‘ha, ha,’ comes in.”

“Is the skeleton gone?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll mighty soon find out.”

Without hesitation he swung himself up to the niche in the rocks, and Rattleton followed, determined that Frank should not go alone into danger.

Harry afterward confessed that he was shivering all over when he climbed up there in the darkness, but his fear did not keep him from sticking to Merry.

A cry broke from Frank’s lips.

“What is it?” called Browning, from below.

“By the eternal skies, it’s gone again!”

“Didn’t I tole yeh!” cried Toots, from a distance. “Come erway from dar, Marser Frank! If yo’ don’, yo’s gwan teh be grabbed!”

“It is gone!” agreed Rattleton. “This beats the Old Nick!”

Again they heard that mocking laugh, which seemed to come down from some point above their heads.

“Wooh!” shivered Harry. “That sounds pleasant!”

“Hang it all!” exclaimed Frank, in a voice that indicated chagrin. “I don’t like to be made fun of this way! If we don’t solve this mystery before we go away I shall always regret it.”

“Beware!”

It was the same voice that had uttered the warning when they were riding into the pass, and now, in the darkness of night, it sounded even more dismal and uncanny than before.

“Come out and show yourself,” called Frank.

For some time the boys remained there, but they were forced to abandon the task of solving the mystery that night. Frank descended to the ground with no small reluctance, and Harry kept close to him. They mounted their wheels and rode away once more, fully expecting to hear the mocking laughter, or the ghostly voice calling after them. In this, however, they were disappointed, as nothing of the kind happened.

After they had ridden some distance, Frank proposed that they halt for the night.

“We are in for an open-air camp to-night,” he said. “It is something we did not expect, but it can’t be helped, and as the night is not cold I think we can get along all right. We need rest, too.”

“That’s right,” agreed Bruce. “I feel as if I need about a week of steady resting, but I don’t care to take it here.”

“How about the Indians?” asked Jack. “We are not very far from them, and they might find us.”

“I scarcely think there is any danger of that.”

“Why not?”

“Those redskins were so badly frightened that they’ll not go hunting after white boys to-night. It is more likely they will skin out and make for the Shoshone Reservation, on which they must belong.”

“But what if they should happen to follow us?” Jack persisted.

“We must take turns at standing guard to-night, and the guard should be able to give us warning of danger in time for us to mount our wheels and get away.”

It was plain that Diamond was not in favor of stopping there, but he said no more.

Fortunately the night was warm, so they suffered no discomfort by sleeping thus. No dew fell out there on the desert.

It was arranged that Diamond should stand guard first, while Frank came second, with Toots for the last guard toward morning.

They ate some of the hard bread and jerked beef and then threw themselves down, with their bicycles near at hand, so they could spring up and mount in a hurry if necessary.

Browning was the first to stretch himself on the ground, and he was snoring almost immediately. The others soon fell asleep.

The rim of a round, red moon was showing away to the eastward when Jack awoke Frank.

“How is it?” Merriwell asked. “Have you heard or seen anything suspicious?”

“Not a thing,” was the reply. “All is still as death out here—far too still. I don’t like it.”

“Well, it is not real jolly,” confessed Frank, with a light laugh; “but I don’t think we need to be worried about visitors; and that is one good thing.”

Jack was fast asleep in a short time.

Morning came, and Toots was the first to awaken. Dawn was breaking in the east as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and muttering:

“Good land! dat am de hardes’ spring mattrus dis coon ebber snoozed on—yes, sar! Nebber struck nuffin’ lek dat befo’.”

Then he looked around in some surprise.

“Gracious sakes!” he continued. “Whar am de hotel? It done moved away in de night an’ lef’ us.”

It was some time before he realized that they had not put up at a hotel the night before.

“Reckum dis is whar we stopped las’ night,” he finally said. “I ’membah ’bout dat now. We was ter tek turns watchin’. I ain’t took no turn at all, an’ it’s wamnin’. He! he! he! Guess de chap dat was ter wake me fell asleep hisself an’ clean fergot it. Dat meks meh ’bout so much sleep ahaid ob de game.”

He was feeling good over this when he noticed that three forms were stretched on the ground near at hand, instead of four.

“Whar am de odder one?” he muttered. “One ob dem boys am gone fo’ suah. Land ob wartermillions! What do hit mean? Dar am Dimun, an’ dar am Rattletum, an’ dar am Brownin’, but whar—whar am Marser Frank?”

In a moment he was filled with alarm, and he lost no time in grasping Harry’s shoulder and giving it a shake, while he cried:

“Wek up heah, yo’ sleepy haid—wek up, I tells yeh! Dar’s suffin’ wrong heah, ur I’s a fool nigger!”

“Muts the whatter?” mumbled Rattleton, sleepily. “Can’t you let a fellow sleep a minute? It isn’t my turn yet.”

“Yoah turn!” shouted Toots. “Wek up, yo’ fool! It’s done come mawnin’, an’ dar’s suffin’ happened.”

“Eh?” grunted Harry, starting up and rubbing his eyes. “Why the moon is just rising.”

“Moon!” snorted the colored boy. “Dat’s de sun comin’ up! An’ I don’t beliebe yo’ took yoah turn keepin’ watch.”

Browning grunted and rolled over, flinging out one arm and giving Toots a crack on the neck that keeled him over on the ground.

“Landy goodness!” squealed the darky, grasping his neck with both hands. “What yo’ tryin’ ter do, boy? Want ter coon? Nebber seen such car’less pusson, sar!”

“Oh, shut up your racket!” growled the big college lad. “I’m not half rested yet. Call me when breakfast is ready.”

“Yo’ll done git yeh own breakfas’ dis mawnin’, sar; but befo’ dar’s any breakfas’ we’s gwan ter know what has become of Marser Frank. He’s gone.”

“Gone?” replied Bruce, sitting up with remarkable quickness.

“Gone?” ejaculated Harry, popping up as if he were worked by springs.

“Gone where?” asked Diamond, also sitting up and staring around.

“Dat’s jes’ what I wants ter know, chilluns,” declared Toots. “Dat boy ain’t heah, an’ I’s po’erful feared de old skillerton debbil has cotched him.”

“Why—why,” said Jack, “I woke him and he took my place.”

“But nobody roused me,” declared Rattleton.

“Nor me,” asserted Browning.

“Git up, chilluns—git up!” squealed Toots, excitedly. “We’s gotter find dat boy in a hurry! ’Spect he’s in a berry bad scrape!”

[CHAPTER VIII.—THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED.]

By this time the boys were fully aroused. An investigation showed that Merriwell’s wheel was gone.

“Didn’t I tole yeh old debbil skillerton would done cotch some ob us!” cried Toots, in great distress.

“I hardly understand what the skeleton could have wanted with Merry’s wheel,” observed Browning.

“G’way dar, boy! Didn’ de skillerton ride a hawse!”

“And you think it is an up-to-date skeleton that has decided to ride a bicycle hereafter. In that case, I congratulate Mr. Skeleton on his good sense.”

“It must be that Frank has gone on a ride without saying anything to us,” said Jack. “I do not see any other way of explaining it.”

“But why should he do such a thing?” asked Rattleton.

“That is where you stick me.”

Browning slowly shook his head.

“It is remarkable that he should do such a thing without saying anything to us,” declared the big fellow.

“And he must have taken that ride in the night,” said Jack.

“While he should have been on guard,” added Harry.

The boys stood looking at each other in sober dismay.

“It isn’t possible that Merry could have gone daffy,” muttered Rattleton. “He is too well balanced for that.”

“I don’t know,” came gloomily from Diamond. “This dismal, burning desert is enough to turn the brain of any fellow.”

“Yah!” cried Toots. “Don’ yeh git no noshun dat boy ebber had his brain turned! It am de weak brains dat git turned dat way. His brain was all right, but I jes’ know fo’ suah dat he hab been cotched.”

“And I suppose you want to run away as soon as possible before you are ‘cotched?’”

Then the colored boy surprised them all by saying:

“No, sar, I don’ want teh go ’way till we knows what hab become ob Marser Frank. Dat boy alwus stick by his frien’s, an’ dis coon am reddy teh stick by him, even if he do git cotched.”

“Good stuff, Toots!” cried Rattleton, approvingly. “You are all right! If anything has happened to Frank we’ll know what it is or leave our bones here.”

The boys were worried. They hurriedly talked over the remarkable disappearance, trying to arrive at an understanding of its meaning.

At length it was agreed that Frank might have gone back to try to solve the mystery of the skeleton, and then they decided that two of the party should remain where they had made their night bivouac, while the other two proceeded to search for Merriwell.

Diamond insisted on being one of the searchers, and Rattleton was determined to be the other, so Browning and Toots were left behind.

The boys mounted their wheels and rode back toward the pass through the bluffs.

Diamond was downcast again.

“Everything is going against us,” he declared. “There is fate in it. I am afraid we’ll not get out of this wretched desert.”

“Oh, you’re unwell, that’s what’s the matter with you!” declared Harry, scornfully. “I’ll be glad when you are yourself again.”

“That’s all right,” muttered Diamond. “You are too thoughtless, that’s what’s the matter with you.”

They approached the spot where the mysterious skeleton had been seen, and both were watching for the niche in the rocks.

Suddenly they were startled by hearing a wild cry from far above their heads, and looking upward they saw Frank Merriwell running along the very brink of the cliff, but limping badly, as if he were lame.

But what astonished and startled them the most was to see a strange-looking, bare-headed man, who was in close pursuit of Frank. Above his head the man wildly flourished a gleaming, long-bladed knife, while he uttered loud cries of rage.

“Smoly hoke!” cried Harry. “Will you look at that!”

Diamond suddenly grew intensely excited.

“What can we do?—what can we do?” he exclaimed. “Frank is hurt! That creature is running him down! He will murder him!”

“If Merry had a pistol he would be all right.”

“But he hasn’t! We must do something, Harry—we must!”

“Neither of us has a gun.”

“No, but——”

“We can’t get up there.”

“But we must do something!”

“We can’t!”

Jack grew more and more frantic. He leaped from his wheel and seemed to be looking for some place to try to scale the face of the bluff.

“Oh, if I could get up there!” he groaned. “I’d show Frank that I was ready to stand by him! I’d fight that man barehanded!”

And Rattleton did not doubt it, for he well knew how hot-blooded Diamond was, and the young Virginian had never failed to fight when the occasion arose. He would not shirk any kind of an encounter.

Merriwell saw them and shouted something to them, but they could not understand what he said.

“Turn! turn!” screamed Jack. “You must fight that man, or he will stab you in the back! He is going to strike you!”

Frank seemed to hear and comprehend, for he suddenly wheeled about and made a stand. In a moment the man with the knife had rushed upon him and struck with that gleaming blade.

A groan escaped Jack’s lips as he saw that blow, but it turned to a gasp of relief when Frank stopped it by catching the man’s wrist.

“Give it to him! Give it to him!” shrieked Diamond, dancing around in a wild frenzy of anxiety and fear.

Then the boys below witnessed a terrific struggle on the heights above them.

The man seemed mad with a desire to plunge the knife into Frank, and it was plain that Merriwell did not wish to harm the unknown, but was trying to disarm him.

“What folly! what folly!” panted Diamond. “He’ll get his hand free and stab Merry sure! Beat him down, Frank—beat him down!”

Once Frank slipped and fell to his knees. A fierce yell of triumph broke from the man, and it seemed that he would succeed in using the knife at last.

With a groan of anguish Diamond covered his eyes that he might not witness the death of the friend he loved. For Jack Diamond did love Frank Merriwell, for all that he had complained against him of late.

A cry of relief from Rattleton caused Jack to look up again, and he saw Frank had regained his feet and was continuing the battle.

And now the man fought with a fury that was nerve thrilling to witness. His movements were swift and savage, and he tried again and again to draw the knife across Frank’s throat.

Jack and Harry scarcely breathed until, with a display of strength and skill, Frank disarmed his assailant by giving his arm a wrench, causing the knife to fly through the air and fall over the edge of the cliff.

Down to the ground below rattled the knife, and then Diamond said:

“Now Frank will be able to handle the fellow!”

But, flinging his arms about the boy, the man made a mad effort to spring over the brink. For some seconds, locked thus in each other’s arms, man and boy tottered on the very verge, and then they swayed back.

Frank broke the hold of the man, striking him a heavy blow a second later. The man reeled and dropped on the edge of the precipice. He scrambled up hastily, but a great slice of rock cleaved off beneath his feet and went plunging downward.

Then the watching boys saw the unknown tottering on the brink, wildly waving his arms in an endeavor to regain his balance. Frank sprang forward to aid him.

Too late!

With a wild scream of despair, the strange man toppled over and whirled downward to his death.

Frank climbed down.

“It’s all up with him, poor fellow,” said he, as he stood near the body of the unknown man, looking down at the face that was white and calm and peaceful in death.

“Who is he?” asked Harry.

“What is he?” asked Jack.

“I am afraid those questions cannot be answered,” confessed Frank. “That he was a raving maniac I am sure, and he lived in a remarkable cave close at hand; but who he is or how he came to be there in that cave I do not know.”

“Well, how you came to be up there with him running you down to stick a knife in you is what I want to know,” said Harry.

“That’s right,” Jack nodded. “Explain it, old man.”

Then Frank told them how, after the moon rose the night before, he had taken his wheel with the intention of riding around the camp, feeling he could keep watch as well that way as any. After the moon was well up, he saw there was no one anywhere about, and a desire to revisit the spot where they had seen the skeleton seized upon him. He rode to the spot, but there was no skeleton in the niche among the rocks. Leaving his bicycle, he climbed up there to examine once more, and to his astonishment, found that what seemed to be a solid, immovable stone had turned in some manner, disclosing an opening.

Then, with reckless curiosity, Frank resolved to investigate further, and he descended into the opening, found some stone steps, and was soon in a cavern. The first thing he discovered was the skeleton, still decorated as the boys had seen it in the first place, and he remained there till he found how it could be placed in view on the block of stone and then removed in a twinkling. He also found a lamp with a strong reflector, which had thrown its light on the skeleton from a hole in the rocks. There was another opening near that, where a person in the cave could look out on the desert, and Frank knew the ghostly voice they had heard must have come from that place.

Merriwell continued his investigations, having lighted the lamp, by the light of which he wandered through the cave. Suddenly he came face to face with an old man, who seemed surprised, but spoke quietly to him.

The old man declared he was “Prof. Morris Fillmore,” but did not say what he was professor of, and he volunteered to explain everything to the boy.

This he did, telling how he worked the skeleton to frighten away those who might molest him in his solitude, as he wished to be alone. There was another entrance to the cave, and, in a large, airy chamber a horse was kept. The horse was coal black, but on one side of him was drawn the outlines of the skeleton frame of a horse, and the strange old man explained that he had a suit of clothes on one side of which he had traced the skeleton of a human being. This had been done with phosphorus, and it glowed with a white light in the darkness.

The old hermit had entered the pocket and ridden near the camp of the Indians. When he turned about the skeleton tracings in phosphorus could not be seen, and so the ghostly horse and rider seemed to disappear in a most marvelous manner.

Frank questioned him concerning the treasure, and the old man seemed to grow excited and suspicious. He said something about the treasure being the property of some one who had fled from the destroying angels of the Mormons in the old days, but had perished in the desert. Frank was led to believe that the skeleton was that of the original owner of the treasure.

But when the boy would have left the cave the stranger told him he could not do so. He informed Frank that he could never go out again, and then it was that the boy became sure Fillmore was crazy.

As the man was armed, Frank decided to use strategy. First he sought to lull the man’s suspicions, and after being watched closely for hours he found a chance to slip away.

Almost immediately the man discovered what had happened and pursued. By chance Frank fled out through a passage that led upward till the top of the bluff was reached, but he fell and sprained his ankle, so he was unable to get away. The hermit followed, and the mad battle for life took place.

“Well, this is amazing!” gasped Jack. “What are you going to do with that treasure?”

“Take it to some place for safe deposit and advertise for the legal heirs of Prof. Millard Fillmore.”

“And if no heirs appear——”

“The treasure will belong to us.”

“Hurrah!”

[CHAPTER IX.—A NIGHT ADVENTURE.]

Frank’s plan was carried out. All the treasure was removed from the cavern in which the mysterious old hermit was buried. The hermit’s horse was set free, and the boys carried the treasure to Ullin, Nevada, where it was shipped to Carson and deposited in a bank there.

“If it is not claimed in a year’s time, boys,” said Frank, “we will go about the work of having it evenly divided among us. In that case we will have made a good thing out of this trip across the continent.”

Nothing more was seen of the Indians, and the boys continued on their trip until Carson City was reached.

One evening Frank was strolling along alone when a shrill, piercing cry of pain, ending abruptly, cut the still evening air.

“Hello!” muttered Frank, as he paused to listen. “Something is wrong with the person who gave that call.”

He listened. In a moment the cry was repeated, and this time it ended with a distinct appeal for help.

Frank was unarmed, but he was aroused by the thought that a fellow being was in distress, and he ran quickly to a dark corner, from beyond which the cry had seemed to come.

To the left was a dark and narrow street, which looked rather forbidding and dangerous.

“I believe the cry came from this street,” said Frank, to himself. “If there were a few lights——”

“Help!”

There could be no mistake this time; the cry did come from that street. A short distance away in the darkness a struggle seemed to be going on. Frank could hear the sound of blows, hoarse breathing, muttered exclamations and cries of pain.

“Some fellow is being done up there!” thought the boy from Yale.

Without further hesitation he ran toward the point from which the sounds seemed to come.

In a moment Frank was close upon two dark forms that were battling fiercely on the ground. He could see them indistinctly in the darkness.

“Ah-h-h, you little whelp!” snarled a harsh voice “So ye will run away, hey? Well, ye’ll never run away no more after this!”

“Oh, please, please don’t beat me so!” pleaded a weak voice. “You—you are killing me! Oh! oh! oh!”

“I’ll make ye ‘oh, oh, oh!’” grated the other.

Then the blows fell thick and fast.

“Here, you miserable brute!” rang out the clear voice of Frank. “You ought to be shot!”

Then he grasped the figure that was uppermost and attempted to drag him off the other.

To Frank’s surprise, although the attack had been sudden, he did not succeed in snatching the assailant from the unfortunate person he was beating.

“Get out!” roared a bull-like voice. “Lemme alone, or I’ll cut yer hide open! This is none of your business!”

“Help, sir—help!” cried the weak voice. “He has beaten me nearly to death! He will kill me!”

“Ye oughter be killed, ye ungrateful little whelp!”

“Break away!” commanded Frank, as he lifted them both by a wonderful outlay of strength and literally tore them apart.

The one who had been assailed could not keep on his feet, but swayed weakly and sank to the ground.

With a sound that was like the snarl of a ferocious beast, the other grappled with Frank. He was so short that he stood not much higher than Frank’s waist, but his shoulders were wonderfully broad, and he had arms that were almost long enough to reach the ground when he was on his feet.

“Great heavens!” thought Merriwell. “What is this I have run against? Is it a human gorilla?”

And then he found that the creature possessed marvelous strength, for Frank was literally lifted off his feet and flung prostrate, the other coming down upon him.

The fall came about so suddenly that Frank was dazed, and his breath was nearly knocked out of his body. For a moment he did nothing, and the creature scrambled up and grasped the fallen lad by the throat with hands that were like iron.

“Bother with me, will ye!” snarled that beastlike voice. “I’ll fix ye so ye won’t do it no more!”

Frank felt that he was in deadly peril, and that caused him to clutch the man’s wrists and hold fast.

He saw something uplifted, and he knew well enough that the furious creature had drawn a weapon of some sort.

“Look out!” panted the weak voice from close at hand. “He will kill you! He has a knife!”

Then, as Merriwell used all his strength to hold back that uplifted hand, he began to realize that, athlete though he was, he was no match for the person he had tackled.

The strength of those long arms was something wonderful, for little by little the man forced Frank’s hand back, and his knife approached the boy’s breast.

Merriwell felt that his power of resistance might give out suddenly at any instant, and then the blade would be driven to its hilt.

He was desperate and frantic, for there was something awfully horrifying in the steady manner in which that knife was forced nearer and nearer.

Cold sweat started out all over him, and he panted for breath, while it seemed that his madly leaping heart would burst from his bosom.

He could see two glaring eyes that seemed to shine with a baleful light of their own in the darkness. He could see the writhing features of a ghastly face, and he could hear the creature grate his teeth.

Nearer and nearer came the blade.

Crying and panting, the one whom Frank had attempted to save got upon his feet, swayed a bit, and then steadied himself with a great effort.

“You shall not do it—you shall not!” he gasped.

Then he flung himself on the man, seeking to drag him from the prostrate lad.

Frank saw that the time had come to make a last effort for the mastery, and so, aided by the other, he succeeded in forcing his opponent back enough so he could squirm out from beneath.

In a moment Frank gained his feet, and then, as the man with the knife came up, out shot the fist of the young athlete.

Smack!

The blow landed fairly, sounding clear and distinct.

Over went the dwarf, and the knife flew out of his hands, falling with a clattering ring upon some stones.

Merriwell knew he must follow up his advantage, but he was barely quick enough, for the fallen ruffian scrambled to his feet with the nimbleness of a cat.

But again Frank struck the fellow, using all his skill and muscle. He barely escaped being clutched by those long arms, but the dwarf was knocked down once more.

The sounds which came from the throat of the man were decidedly unpleasant to hear. They did not seem to be words, but were a succession of snarls.

By the time Frank had struck the creature again, he did not scramble up so quickly.

At that moment, having heard the sounds of the struggle, some person brought a light to the broken window of an old house that stood almost within the limits of the street.

That light shone out and fell full on the dwarf man as he was rising to his feet after the third blow. His long arms were extended so that his hands lay on the ground, and he was standing in a crouching position on all fours. His face was pale as marble, and disfigured by a red scar that ran down his left cheek from his temple to the corner of his mouth. His eyes were set near together, and were blazing with ferocity.

Taken altogether, Frank thought that the most horrible face he had ever seen.

The light seemed to startle the horrid-appearing creature, and, with a low, grating cry of baffled fury, he turned and ran swiftly away, still in a somewhat crouching position, his hands almost touching the ground, while he made queer leaps and bounds.

In a moment the dwarf had disappeared.

Frank gave a breath of relief.

“Good riddance!” muttered the lad from Yale.

Then he turned to look for the person he had saved from the dwarf.

That person had disappeared.

“Gone!” exclaimed Merriwell, in astonishment and regret. “He must have been frightened away during the last of the struggle. He was weak, and he may not have gone far.”

Frank resolved to search, and immediately set about doing so. He had not proceeded far when he came upon a form stretched motionless on the ground.

A hasty examination showed Frank it was a boy, who seemed to have fainted.

“It is the chap the dwarf was beating!” decided Merriwell.

He lifted the unconscious boy in his arms, tossing him over one shoulder, and started toward the lighted street.

“I must take the poor fellow to the hotel, and then we’ll see what can be done for him. He seems to be in a bad way.”

By the time the lighted street was reached the boy recovered consciousness. He struggled a bit, moaned slightly, and then, in a pathetic, pleading voice, he said:

“Please don’t take me back to Bernard Belmont, Apollo—please don’t! I know he will kill me!”

“Don’t be afraid,” said Frank, gently. “I am not taking you to any one who will harm you.”

A cry of astonishment broke from the boy.

“Why,” he exclaimed, “you are not Apollo!”

“No; I am Frank Merriwell. Who is Apollo?”

“A dwarf—a wretch—the hired tool of Bernard Belmont! Oh, he is a monster, without heart or soul!”

“He must be the one with whom I had the lively little set-to.”

“You—you came to my aid—you saved me from him! How can I thank you! But I thought he would kill you!”

“And so he might if you hadn’t helped me throw him off. You did it just in time, and I believe you saved my life.”

“Oh, but he had a knife—I could see it! And I knew he would use it. He has such wonderful strength.”

“He is strong.”

“Strong! I do not see how you held him off! But I could see him forcing the knife nearer and nearer, and I grew frantic, for it seemed that you would be killed before my eyes.”

“I was rather anxious myself,” confessed Frank, with something like a laugh.

“It was a nasty position.”

“I don’t know how I dared touch him, but I remember that I did. Then you flung him off and got up. After that, I remember that you were fighting, and I felt sure you could not conquer him. He would get the best of you in the end, and then he’d finish me. I was scared and tried to run away; but I did not go far before I became sick and weak, and—and I don’t remember anything more.”

“You fainted.”

“And you whipped Apollo?”

“Not exactly. I knocked him down a few times, but he seemed to spring to his feet almost as soon as he went down. Then somebody brought a light to a window and he was scared away.”

The boy clung to Frank.

“He did not go far!” he excitedly whispered. “He is not far away! He is liable to spring upon us any time! Bernard Belmont has sent him for me, and he will not rest till he gets me. Oh, I must get away—quick—to my sister! She is near—so near now! But my strength is gone, and—and——”

The boy began to cough, and each convulsion shook him from head to feet. There was a hollow, dreadful sound about that cough—a sound that gave Frank a chill.

“Never mind if your strength is gone,” said Merriwell, encouragingly. “You’ll get along all right, for I’ll stick by you and see that you do.”

“You are so kind!”

“What’s your name?”

“George Morris.”

“Where do you live—here in Carson?”

“Oh, no, no! I live in Ohio.”

“That is a long distance away.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How do you happen to be here?”

The boy hesitated, seeming in doubt and fear, and then, with what appeared to be a sudden impulse, he said:

“I am going to tell you—I am going to tell you everything. Put me down here. Let’s rest. I am tired, and I must be heavy.”

They sat down on some steps, the boy seeking to keep in the shadow, showing he feared being seen.

“It’s—it’s like this,” he began, weakly. “I—I ran away.”

“Oh-ho!” exclaimed Frank.

The lad quickly, almost fearfully, clutched his arms.

“Don’t think I ran away foolishly!” he exclaimed, coughing again. “I—I came out here to find my sister, who is buried.”

“Then your sister is dead?”

“No.”

“Not dead? You said she is buried. How can a person be buried and not be dead?”

Frank began to think it possible the boy was rather “daffy.”

“There—there’s lots to the story,” came painfully from the boy. “I can’t tell you all. The letter said she was buried—buried so deep that Bernard Belmont could never find her. That letter was from Uncle Carter.”

“Uncle Carter?”

“My father’s brother, Carter Morris. He lives somewhere in the mountains west of Lake Tahoe. He has a mine up there, and he is very queer. He thinks everybody wants to steal his mine, and he will let no one know where it is located. They say the ore he has brought here into Carson is of marvelous richness. Men have tried to follow him, but he has always succeeded in flinging them off the trail. Never have they tracked him to his mine.”

“Then he is something of a hermit?”

“Yes, he is a hermit, and my sister is with him. He wrote that she was buried deep in the earth—that must be in his mine.”

“How did your sister come to be with him?”

“I helped her—I helped her get away!” panted the boy, excitedly. “I knew they meant to kill us both!”

“They? Who?”

“Bernard Belmont and Apollo.”

“Who is Bernard Belmont?”

“My stepfather. He married my mother, after the death of my father. He is a handsome man, but he has a wicked face, and he is a wretch—a wretch!”

The boy grew excited suddenly, almost screaming his words, while he struck his clinched hands together feebly.

“Steady,” warned Frank. “You must not get so excited.”

The boy began to cough, holding both hands to his breast. For some minutes he was shaken by that convulsive cough.

“Come,” said Frank, “let me get you to the hotel. You must have a doctor. There must be no further delay.”

“No, stop!” and the boy held to Merriwell’s arm. “I must tell you now. I seem to feel that my strength is going—going! I must tell you! He—he killed my mother!”

“Who—Bernard Belmont?”