All that day and far into the night the mad inventor held control of the flying-machine, refusing to listen to reason or argument, and keeping the boys at bay.
Some time in the night he fell asleep, and, when he awoke, he was enraged to find himself bound hands and feet, while the boys were trying to handle theEagle.
"Let me go!" howled the mad professor. "You will send us to destruction! You will plunge us to ruin!"
"Keep still!" commanded Frank, sternly. "You are no longer master here."
"Villain!" screamed the helpless man; "I know your scheme! You mean to steal theEagle! You mean to get rid of me, and then you will steal the work of my brain and hands!"
"Don't fool yourself. If I ever get to solid ground again, you may have your old air ship and sail away to the South Pole with it. I am figuring on getting back to Blake."
"Te, he!" laughed the madman, suddenly. "Is that all you ask? Why, it is very easy to fix that matter."
His voice was full of craft and deception.
"How would you fix it?" asked Frank.
"Set me at liberty, and I will take you back there."
"That sounds all right, but it is plain enough that you cannot be trusted. I prefer to experiment a little myself, before letting you have charge again."
"And you will bring us all to destruction!"
"Possibly I may. Keep still now, while I study out the working of these levers and wheels."
But Scudmore would not keep still. He shouted and talked, urging them to release him, begging and threatening by turns.
Meanwhile Frank and Barney were studying over the levers and wheels, and they finally discovered how to send the air ship down toward the earth, which lay asleep in the white moonlight.
They were directly over a mountainous region, having been soaring over the loftiest peaks. The boys were somewhat benumbed by the chilly air, but, as they came nearer to the earth, this numbness passed away.
"Are yez goin' ter land here, Frankie?" asked Barney, anxiously.
"I don't know," was the answer. "If we should happen to see a town——"
"Where do yez think we are?"
"That is another thing I don't know."
Down they went until Frank conceived a notion that they were near enough to the earth; but when he tried to reverse the lever and ascend again, it would not work.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the inventor. "It is retribution! We shall be smashed into a thousand pieces when we strike. You will never steal theEaglefrom me!"
Frank worked with all his energy, for they were sweeping toward the earth at an alarming rate of speed.
The laughter of the deranged professor rang out louder and wilder than ever.
"Oi think we're in fer it, me b'y!" gasped Barney.
"It looks like that," confessed Frank, as they barely cleared the crest of a mountain and went diving down into the unknown depths of a valley. "This confounded thing——"
Snap!—something broke, and their swift descent was suddenly checked, but they continued to settle gently.
"Ah!" breathed Frank, with relief. "If this keeps up, we'll come down all right."
"But it's nivver a bit can we tell where we'll land, me laddybuck."
"We'll have the satisfaction of getting on solid ground again, at least. I am yearning to feel it beneath my feet once more."
It was not long before theEaglesank gently into the valley, settling to the ground as lightly as a bird.
Out leaped the boys, ropes in their hands, and they quickly made the air ship fast.
"Well, we are still living," said Frank.
"It's mesilf thot belaves we've much to be thankful fer," declared Barney.
"I wonder where we are, and how near we are to civilization. I am inclined to believe we cannot be far from the very region where the colony of Danites is said to be located."
"Suffering cats!" gasped the Irish boy. "If thot is the case, how are we ivver goin' to get out av here?"
"We'll have to trust to luck."
"Oi'll nivver thrust mesilf to thot air ship again."
"I do not care to do so, but we may have to do so whether we want to or not."
"Well, we have enough to ate, an' some guns to protict oursilves with. Oi am fer ixplorin' th' country before we do anything ilse."
"We can't do any exploring to-night."
"But we can early in th' marnin'."
Sothey provided themselves with two of the rifles, plenty of ammunition, and much of the provisions in the car.
In the shelter of the valley the night was no longer cool, but was warm and pleasant.
They found an overhanging shelf of rock where they could get close up under a bluff, and it made quite a satisfactory camp.
For some time the boys lay and talked over their adventure, wondering if they would get out of the predicament all right. At last they became drowsy, and finally fell asleep.
They slept soundly till morning. Frank was the first to awaken, and he shook Barney to rouse him.
"Come, you bit of the Old Sod," called Frank. "Turn out and pay for your lodging."
"Begobs! Oi fale loike th' bed had been shtuffed with bricks. Hurro! Oi must have fell out av bed in th' noight, an' dropped clane out av th' windy. It's a bit av a kink Oi have in th' small av me back."
Barney sat up, making a wry face, and staring about in a bewildered way.
"Phwat howtil is this, Oi dunno?" he cried. "Have Oi been slapin', or have Oi been in a thrance?"
"We came here in a flying-machine, you will remember."
"In a floying-machine? Oi thought Oi dramed it."
"It was no dream."
"Well, may Oi nivver live to see th' back av me neck!"
It took some time for the Irish boy to recover from his amazement.
"Where is thot floying-machine, Frankie?"
"It is just beyond this line of bushes, where we left it last night. Professor Scudmore is tied up in the car, and I fancy he must be a bit uncomfortable by this time. I did not mean to leave him that way so long. It was rather heartless."
"Ye can't be aisy wid his koind, me b'y. There's no tellin' phwat they'll do."
"That is true; but it is our duty to handle him as gently as possible. He is a most unfortunate man. His air ship seems an assured success, and yet he has lost his reason working over it."
The boys arose and passed round the bushes, Frank being in advance. A cry of wonder and amazement broke from Merriwell's lips.
"The air ship!" he gasped.
"Phwat's th' matter?" asked Barney, quickly.
"It's gone!"
"Gone!"
"That's what!"
"Where?"
"Sailed away."
It was true that theEaglewas not where they had left it the night before, and, looking all around, they could find no trace of it.
"Thot bates me!"
The knees of the Irish boy seemed to weaken beneath him, and he sank in a limp heap on the ground.
"It beats the band!"
Frank was scarcely less broken up than his companion.
"How did it happen, Frankie? Th' ould thing didn't go off av itsilf, did it?"
"Not much!"
"Phwat thin?"
"Professor Scudmore must have succeeded in releasing himself."
"Roight, lad; an' thin he skipped."
"As soon as he was free, he sailed away in theEagle, and we are left here in the heart of this mountainous region."
"Oi'm homesick! Oi wish Oi hadn't come!"
Frank laughed.
"This is not the worst scrape we have been in, by any means. We'll pull out of this, with our usual good luck."
But a feeling of loneliness and desolation did settle heavily upon them, for all that Frank made an effort tothrow it off. The mountains lifted their heads on every hand like mighty sentries that hemmed them in, and they felt shut off from all the rest of the world.
When they fully realized that Professor Scudmore had released himself and escaped in the air ship, they walked round the place where theEaglehad been left the night before, but they discovered nothing beyond some severed bits of rope.
Then Frank became philosophical.
"We may as well take it easy," he said. "It is useless to make a fuss about it. Here we are, and—-"
"Where we are Oi dunno!"
"You know quite as well as I do, old man."
"All roight. Phwat will we do?"
"Find some water to wash down our breakfast to start with. After we have eaten, we will feel better. Then we can settle on what we'll do next."
By rare good luck, they were near a spring of clear water, and it was found without trouble.
"It was fortunate we took the rifles and provisions out of the car last night," said Frank.
"Thot it wur," nodded Barney.
For all of their situation, they ate heartily, and, breakfast over, they felt better. Then they sat and talked the matter over a while, finally deciding to make an effort to get somewhere, and trust to fortune.
With the aid of the pieces of rope, they tied the provisions into bundles, which were easily carried, and before long they struck out.
Barney trusted everything to Frank who took the lead, and they headed for what seemed to be an outlet to the valley, away to the west.
During the next five days the boys passed through a few adventures, none of which, however, have any bearing on this story. They wandered round and round amidthe mountains, finally coming back to the valley from which they had started.
This was discouraging, but they started over again, and they finally came to a narrow cut that seemed to lead into the very heart of the mountain that loomed before them.
"We will try it," said Frank, leading the way.
They passed through the cut, after traveling many miles, and came into a vast basin, with mountains looming on every hand.
"Pwhat do yez think, me b'y?" asked the Irish lad.
"It is not easy to tell what to think," was the reply. "However, I fear we are in Water Pocket Canyon."
"Phwat about Water Pocket Canyon?"
"It is said to be fifty miles in length to ten or fifteen in width, and to have no outlets."
"Well, this can't be th' place, me b'y, fer it has an outlet roight here."
"But one that would not be easy to find, and so it might go forth there were no outlets to the place."
"Begorra! it looks loike we naded Profissor Scudmore's floying-machane to git out av this scrape."
"It does look that way. We seem to be getting tangled more and more. All we can do is to make the attempt to get out."
"Av this is Warter Pocket Canyon, we may not be able to foind this pass if we lave it."
"We will mark the spot some way."
"How?"
"That is the question. Wait till I find a way."
It was not easy, but Frank finally decided that he could tell the mountain through the base of which the pass had seemed to wind.
Then they went into the wild and picturesque valley,while Frank continued to look back at intervals in order to impress the appearance of the mountain on his mind.
That night they camped beside a little stream that bubbled out from beneath the base of a cliff, and it was found that their stock of provisions was getting very low, even though they had preserved it as far as possible by shooting and cooking wild game.
"We have got to get out av here soon, Frankie," said the Irish boy, soberly.
Frank nodded.
"That is evident; but we are doing our best, and so we can do no better."
Frank was somewhat disheartened, but he did not wish Barney to know it, and so he pretended to be cheerful.
Darkness settled over the canyon, and the light of a tiny fire shone on the faces of the young adventurers.
Frank seemed to be dreaming, for, with a far-away stare, he was gazing straight into the flames, apparently quite unaware of his surroundings.
In the flaring fire he saw strange pictures of events in his own career—a career such as had never before fallen to the lot of a boy of his years.
He seemed to behold the scores of perils through which he had passed, and before him seemed to flit the faces of the many friends and foes he had made.
He saw the foes of his school days—Snell, Bascomb, Gage, and all the others—skulk past in procession. Snell had a sneaking, treacherous look on his face, Bascomb swaggered along in the old bullying manner, and Gage seemed to be driven along by the Evil One, who was constantly goading him to rash and desperate things. Then he saw the face of his most deadly enemy, his own cousin, Carlos Merriwell; but it no longer bore a look of malignant hatred, for it was white and cold in the last long sleep.
There were other enemies who had sprung up along his path, but they seemed like shadows in comparison to the ones of his school days.
Following these came others, and the dark look faded from his countenance. He saw Bart Hodge, who had once been his bitter enemy, but who had become his stanchest friend. Hodge held out a hand to him, as if longing to render aid in this hour of need.
Then came scores of others, the cadets at Fardale, the professors, and, last of all, the girls who had admired him and believed him noble and true.
Elsie Bellwood smiled at him sadly, and pointed to a mighty barrier that lay between them; Kate Kenyon tried to reach him, and then drew back, with a hopeless shake of her head; others came and flitted past, and last of all Inza Burrage was there, holding out her hands to him, her dark eyes full of trust.
"Inza!"
The name fell from his lips, and it aroused him. Barney had fallen asleep, and was snoring beside the fire.
But what was that? Did he still dream?
Just beyond the fire, within the outer circle of light, stood a girl!
Frank rubbed his eyes and looked again.
She was still there, and she was pressing a finger to her lips, as if asking for silence.
"Great Scott!" muttered Frank, in a dazed way.
"Sh!" came back across the fire. "Do not wake him." She motioned toward the sleeping Irish lad.
Frank pinched himself.
"Yes, I am awake myself," he said, guardedly. "And it is a girl—a pretty girl at that! How in the name of all that is wonderful does it happen there is a girl here?"
"You have no time to ask questions," came backswiftly, in a low, musical voice. "You are in a bad snare, Frank Merriwell."
The boy started violently.
"How is it that you know my name?" he demanded, astonished beyond measure.
"I tell you you have no time to ask questions. Why did you come here?"
"You seem inclined to ask questions. I came because I could not help it."
"That is not true. You came to search for the hiding place of the last of the Danites. You may as well confess it."
"But I tell you I had no idea of coming here when I started."
"I know more than your name, Frank Merriwell; I know that you were eager to come in search of the place where Uric Dugan and a few of his former friends have hidden themselves from the world, hoping to remain there in peace to the end of their days."
Frank was filled with wonder unutterable.
"Are you a supernatural creature—a phantom?" he demanded. "If not, how do you know that I ever heard of Uric Dugan?"
"I am not the only one who knows. Uric Dugan and his companions know it. They are ready for you, and you have walked into their snare. You are meshed."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that there is not one chance in ten thousand that you will ever be able to escape alive."
"By Jove! the prospect is pleasant!"
"I am in earnest. The pass by which you entered this basin is already guarded, and you cannot get out that way."
"Then we will have to get out some other way."
"There is but one other way, and that is also guarded. Do you see you are snared?"
"If you are not mistaken, it looks that way. What can I do?"
The girl made a despairing gesture.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I have begged them to spare you—to shed no more blood; but they say it is absolutely necessary in order that we may continue to live here in peace. The world at large must not know where to find the last of the Danites."
"If I give my pledge——"
"It will not be accepted. You are not the first to stray in here. Not one of them has ever gone away to tell the tale."
Frank shuddered a bit, beginning to realize that the situation was indeed a desperate one.
"If there is no chance for us to escape, why are you here to tell us?"
"I could not help warning you. I saw your fire twinkling, and I knew that you would sleep beside it. In the night death would come down upon you, and you would never awaken."
"Jupiter! That is interesting! I won't sleep for a week."
"Ah, but you cannot escape, even though you never again close your eyes in sleep. You can only avoid your doom for a little time. My heart is full of pity for you, but I am unable to do anything."
Her voice told him that she was sincere, and Frank thrilled with gratitude toward her.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am Miskel," she answered.
"Miskel! What an odd name! But you seem to bea most remarkable girl. How does it happen that you are here?"
"My father is one of the last of the Danites, and I live here with him."
"Your father—who is he?"
"Uric Dugan!"
You must not linger here
"You must not linger here. * * * Even now the Destroying Ones may be moving to fall upon you." (See page124)
Frank uttered a low cry, causing Barney to start up.
"Pwhat's th' matter?" asked the Irish boy, reaching for his rifle. "Is it Injuns, Oi dunno?"
"Easy, Barney!" cried Frank. "You will frighten her away from—Cæsar's ghost! She's gone!"
"Pwhat's thot? Who is she, me b'y? Is it dramin' ye wur, or have ye wheels in yer head?"
"Neither. She was here a moment ago, and I was talking with her."
"Who is she?"
"Miskel."
"An' a broth av a name thot is! It's wheels ye have in yer head, me b'y; Oi can hear thim goin' round."
Frank sprang up and passed round the fire.
"She disappeared like a phantom. I cannot understand how she came here, or how she went away so swiftly."
Not a trace of her could be seen.
All at once, Frank whirled about and kicked the burning brands in all directions.
"That fire shall provide no beacon for Uric Dugan and the Danites!" exclaimed the boy.
"Pwhat do yez mane by thot?" asked the puzzled Irish lad. "Is it daft ye have gone all at wance?"
Frank came swiftly to the side of his companion, a hand falling on Barney's shoulder, as he said:
"We must get out of this, for it is likely our fire hasbeen seen by the Danites, who are somewhere near at hand."
"How do yez know thot, Frankie?"
"Know it? Why, she told me. She was here a minute ago, and you frightened her away when you awoke."
Barney looked at his friend in a doubting way.
"Be aisy now, Frankie, and if ye can't be aisy, whoy jist be aisy as ye can. This loife has affected yer brain, me b'y."
Frank saw Barney really thought he spoke the truth.
"You are wrong," he said. "I will explain what I mean, and I assure you that I am in my sober senses."
Whereupon, he told Barney everything, and the Irish lad listened with drooping jaw.
"Th' saints protict us!" he cried. "Pwhat are we goin' to do, Frankie?"
"Get out of this before Uric Dugan and his gang make us a call."
"They move swiftly as an arrow, and strike deep and sure. You have no time to spare."
The voice was hollow and blood-chilling, coming out of the darkness as from the depths of a mighty cavern, causing both lads to whirl, clutching their weapons, ready for an attack.
"Who is there?" challenged Frank, sharply.
"One who will do you no harm," was the answer. "And I alone am able to save you from Uric Dugan."
"Who are you?"
"I am known as Old Solitary."
Not far away could be seen the figure of a man, who seemed to be leaning on a stout staff. He made no menacing move.
Barney's teeth were chattering.
"Tin to wan it is th' Ould B'y himsilf!" gasped the Irish lad.
Barney was very superstitious. While he was not afraid of anything made of flesh and blood, whatever seemed supernatural filled him with the greatest terror.
"Steady," warned Frank. "It is a human being, and he seems to be alone. One man will not harm us."
"Not av he is a man."
"I am a man, and I mean you no harm," declared the same deep voice. "If you will trust me, I may be able to save you. Look—I will advance, and you may keep your weapons turned upon me."
The figure came forward through the gloom, and in a few moments he stood close at hand, so they could see he was a man whose head was bare, and whose white beard flowed over his chest. What seemed to be a staff at first glance, proved to be a long-barreled rifle.
Barney was intensely relieved.
"It must be Santy Claus himsilf!" exclaimed the Irish lad.
"You must not linger here," said the stranger. "Even now the Destroying Ones may be moving to fall upon you. They would wipe you from the face of the earth, as they have wiped away hundreds and thousands. They are terrible, and they are merciless. Their tongues are forked, and the poison of adders lies beneath their lips. For the Gentile they know not mercy. If the Mormon Church decrees that they destroy the babe at its mother's breast, they snatch it away and dash out its brains. On their knees innocent girls have pleaded in vain to be spared. Fathers and mothers have fallen before them. Old men with snowy hair have been slaughtered without pity. And chief among these inhuman monsters is Dugan of the dark face. I know him, and I know that his heart is made of adamant. But he shall not always escape the wrath to come. His days are numbered, and the daysof his merciless comrades are numbered! All are doomed! Not one shall escape!"
"Easy, old man!" warned Frank. "Do you wish to bring them upon us? I shall think you are in league with them."
"Not I! Come; I will lead you to a place of safety."
The boys hesitated.
"Shall we thrust th' spalpane?" whispered Barney, doubtfully.
"I don't see as we can do better," returned Frank. "We must take chances."
"He may be wan av th' Danites, me b'y."
"He may be, but something tells me he is not."
"Thin how does it happen thot he is here?"
"That is something you can answer as well as I. Come, we will follow him. Keep your weapons ready for instant use."
So they followed, and, old man though he was, they found it no easy task, for he moved with a swinging cat-like step that carried him swiftly over the ground.
All at once, he turned, with a low hiss, motioned for them to follow, and, crouching low, crept behind some bowlders.
The boys followed, ready for a trap.
When they were behind the bowlders, the stranger whispered:
"They are coming—I hear their footsteps afar. They come swiftly, but they will not find their prey. They are the last of the Danites, and they are in hiding here amid these mountains, but they have not forgotten how to strike and destroy. Crouch low, keep still, and you shall see them pass."
It seemed that the old man's ears must be good, for it was quite a while before the boys heard a sound. Atlength, with a sudden rush of feet, six or eight dark figures flitted past and quickly disappeared.
"They come like shadows, and like shadows they go," softly breathed Old Solitary. "The day has passed forever when their power is felt and dreaded throughout Utah. Once they were far more dreadful than a pestilence. Started upon the trail of a man who had been doomed by the church, there was not one chance in ten thousand for him to escape. No man could seek his bed at night and be sure he would not become the victim of the Destroying Angels before dawn. No man could be sure he had not done something to offend Brigham Young. If by any means he became aware that 'the decree of death' had been made against him, it was no better than useless for him to take to flight. He might flee to the desert, but the Destroyers tracked him through shifting sands and across waterless wastes till he was run to earth and his body was left for the vultures and coyotes. If he plunged into the mountains, the canyons and ravines were not deep enough or dark enough to hide him from the keen eyes of the death-dealers on his track. Knowing his doom had been decreed, he might flee madly from his home and his loved ones, his heart alternating between hope and despair, knowing all the while that those deadly pursuers were on his track, hurrying on and on when he was in desperate need of rest, fearing to close his eyes in sleep, lest he open them to look upon his murderers, weak for want of food, his throat parched for a swallow of water, his blood pouring like melted lead through his veins, his brain on fire, and still all his struggles were unavailing. Relentless, unwearying, bloodthirsty and sure as death, the Destroying Ones tracked him down. He might begin to fancy that he had escaped, that he had thrown them off his trail. At last, overcomeby his terrible exertions, he might sleep, feeling certain that in a few more hours he would be beyond their reach. They would come upon him like shadows, and they would leave him weltering in his gore. A curse they have been, and a curse they shall remain till the last one of them all is perished from the face of the fair earth which they have polluted."
The boys were spellbound by the intense language of the strange man. All fears that he might be one of the Danites departed from their minds.
"Begobs!" gasped Barney; "it's Satan's oun brewing they must be!"
"Come," said Old Solitary, "we must move on again. They will not find you, and the morning will see them on your trail."
"If what you say is true, it were better to be trailed by bloodhounds or wild Indians," said Frank.
"Far better. The Destroying Ones hastened to the slaughter with no more mercy in their hearts than is to be found in the heart of a fierce Apache. If they were instructed to kill, they believed it their duty—more than that, they would suffer the tortures of hell if they shirked or shrank from committing the deed."
"Oi'm not faling well at all, at all!" sighed Barney. "An' it's caught we are in a place where such craythurs be! Och, hone! Whoy didn't we shtay with th' profissor?"
Old Solitary again flitted away, and they hastened along at his heels. Now he was silent of lip and silent of foot. He seemed more like a shadow than anything else.
For more than an hour he led them forward with great swiftness, and then they came to a small stream.
"You must cover your trail," said the old man. "Follow me."
He stepped into the running water, walking along the bed of the stream.
They did not hesitate to follow in his footsteps.
Before long they came to where the stream fell splashing and tinkling down the mountain.
"Up," said Old Solitary.
It was a difficult climb, but the boys were young athletes, and they would have been ashamed to let the man with the white hair and beard climb where they could not go.
The stream was left, and, clinging to the points of rock with hands and feet, the old man still mounted higher and higher. He seemed to know every inch of the way, which became more and more difficult for the lads.
"Begorra!" gurgled Barney; "we'll nivver get down from here, Frankie, me jool."
"Well, we'll have no call to kick, if the Danites do not get up to us."
"Thot's right."
"But I cannot help thinking of Miskel's words. She declared that we were hopelessly snared."
"She may have troied to scare ye to death, lad."
"Well, what Old Solitary has said about the Destroying Angels has not made me feel any easier."
At last they came to a shelf of rock, along which they crept, inch by inch, clinging fast and feeling their way, with a blue void of night above and beneath them.
All at once a black opening in the face of the bluff yawned before them, and they saw the man of the white hair and beard standing in the mouth of a cave.
"This is my home," declared Old Solitary. "They have not dared attack me here, even though they know whereto find me. They consider me harmless, but some day they shall know the difference. Uric Dugan shall know my power!"
He turned and entered the cave, and, still trusting all to him, they felt their way along after him.
After a time, Old Solitary lighted a torch, and they were enabled to follow him with greater ease.
He led them into a circular chamber, where there was a bed of grass and some rude furniture of his own manufacture.
"This is my home," declared the strange man. "For the present, you are safe here; but there is no way of getting out of here without passing through territory where the Danites will be found."
"Then we are still in the meshes," said Frank.
"You are still in the very heart of Danite land."
"If what you say is true, then we cannot be safe here, for those human beasts know we are somewhere in the net, and they will find us, no matter what our hiding place may be."
"That is true, but it will take time, and they fear me. They will not rush hither. You may sleep without fear to-night."
"Surely we have need enough of sleep."
"Then do not hesitate to slumber, for I need little sleep, and I will see that no harm comes to you."
Frank would have questioned the man, but when he tried to do so in a manner that would not be offensive, Old Solitary suddenly became dumb, paying no heed to anything that was said.
Frank and Barney talked for a long time. They were impressed with the belief that they were in the gravest peril, and yet they could do nothing more to save themselves till the opportunity came. To a large extent, they were in the hands of fate.
Never before in all his life had Frank been utterly controlled by a feeling of utter inability to avert destruction by any effort of his own, even though his hands were free and he was armed. It seemed as if they had been doomed and were in a snare from which there could be no possible escape.
Everything must be trusted to Old Solitary, that was certain. Feeling thus, Frank flung himself down on the bed of grass, and was soon sleeping soundly.
It did not take Barney long to follow the example of his friend.
They slept for hours. When they awoke the torch had burned out, and the chilly darkness of the cave was dense around them.
"I wonder where Old Solitary is?" said Frank.
They called to him and their voices echoed hollowly along the passages.
No answer came.
"Begorra!" cried the Irish boy; "It looks loike he had left us to oursilves."
"It does seem that way," admitted Frank.
Our hero remembered seeing in a niche the night before a collection of sticks that he fancied were for torches, and so, lighting a match, he sought them. He had made no mistake, for one of them lighted readily.
"Our weapons are all right," he said, having made an examination. "It is probable that Old Solitary will soon return."
They waited an hour, but the strange man did not appear. Both grew restless, and finally started out to explore the cave.
With the aid of the torch, they picked their way along one of the passages. They were surprised at the distancetraveled, and wondered when and where they would come out.
Finally, a gleam of light was seen ahead, and, as they came nearer, the torch was extinguished.
Climbing up a steep slope, they lay on their stomachs and peered out into the depths of a circular pocket that was inclosed by mountains on three sides.
An exclamation broke from the lips of both.
"A camp!" cried Frank.
"It's a town, me b'y!" Barney almost shouted. "We're all roight, afther all!"
"Easy!" cautioned Merriwell, quickly. "Keep your voice down. It is a town, but it is not the kind of a town we care to enter."
"Pwhat's th' matther wid it?"
"It is the town of the Danites. This is their retreat, where they have hidden themselves from the rest of the world."
Barney was soon convinced that Frank was right, and the boys drew back a bit, taking care not to be seen by anybody below them.
There was a collection of eight buildings upon which the morning sun was shining, six of which were dwelling houses, and two of which seemed to be stables. Taken all together, they made quite a little village.
The doors of many of the houses were open, and men were seen lounging about. Occasionally a woman could be seen, and there were a few children at play.
"Here live the last of the terrible organization that has shed the blood of hundreds of Gentiles," said Frank. "These men were known to be leaders, and the fate of John D. Lee was a warning to them. They saw the church could no longer protect them, and so they fled here. It is possible that some of those old men downthere were concerned in the Mountain Meadow Massacre."
"It's the divvil's own set they are, to be sure."
"They have never hesitated to shed blood, and our lives will not be worth a pinch of snuff if we fall into their hands."
"Pwhat are we goin' to do?"
"That remains to be seen. For the present, we seem to be safe where we are. It is plain this cave extends through a spur of the mountain, and we are looking out on a side far from where we entered. It is also possible that, even now, some of these creatures may be climbing to the other entrance."
"Howly shmoke!"
"I said possible, not probable. I am trusting much to Old Solitary."
The boys lay there a long time, talking and peering down into the village of the Danites. They did not see a lithe, agile figure that was climbing in their direction. At length, having climbed as far as possible, this figure reached a stopping place, still below and at one side.
"Great shnakes!" gasped Barney, clutching Frank's arm. "Will yez take a look at thot!"
He pointed toward the figure.
"Cæsar's ghost! It is Miskel!"
"Pwhat is she doin' there, me b'y?"
"She seemed to be looking this way. I wonder if she has seen us here?"
"Oi dunno."
"She acts as if she has."
"Thot she does."
"She is hidden from the camp below by that mass of bowlders beside her, and she acts as if she were trying to keep out of sight of them down there."
"Pwhat's thot she has in her hand?"
"A bow. That is a perfect picture of the nymph Diana."
"Ay she ounly had some hounds an' a stag at hand."
"See—she has taken an arrow from a quiver at her back, and she seems to be attaching something to it. By the way she looks up here I should say she is measuring the distance with her eye, to see if she can make the arrow reach."
It certainly looked that way, and the boys watched her every movement with the keenest interest, still keeping as far concealed as possible.
Once Miskel lifted the bow and drew it taut, but something did not satisfy her, and she lowered it. After some moments the bow was lifted again, and then the arrow sailed upward through the air.
"It's coming!"
Both boys dodged.
Zip—click! The arrow cut through the air, sailed in at the opening of the cave, struck the face of the rock, and dropped to the ground.
Frank quickly picked it up.
"Ha!" he exclaimed. "Look, Barney—a bit of paper is attached here! There is writing on it! Ten to one it is a message!"
Eagerly he removed the bit of paper that was tied to the arrow, and he soon read aloud what was written on it.
"Frank Merriwell: It is known that you are there, but you are safe for the present, although still meshed and unable to escape. My father fears Old Solitary; but there are others who do not, and your refuge will not long continue a safe one. Your friends have arrived, and they are already in the snare, so it is not likely you will ever see either of them alive.Miskel."
"Frank Merriwell: It is known that you are there, but you are safe for the present, although still meshed and unable to escape. My father fears Old Solitary; but there are others who do not, and your refuge will not long continue a safe one. Your friends have arrived, and they are already in the snare, so it is not likely you will ever see either of them alive.
Miskel."
The last sentence filled both boys with the utmost wonder and perplexity.
"What does it mean?" asked Frank.
"Thot Oi'll nivver tell!" cried Barney.
"My friends? Whom can she mean? Who is it that is already within the snare?"
"Ax me something aisy!"
"And the Danites know where we are hidden!"
"Thot's pwhat she says, av ye read it roight."
"It is very comforting to know it! Uric Dugan fears Old Solitary, but there are others who do not."
"It's the others we nade to be afeared av, me lad."
"You are right. We must be constantly on our guard. Both of us must not sleep at the same time; we must take turns at sleeping. In that way we should be able to know when they try to come upon us, and we will sell our lives as dearly as possible."
"Av we've got to doie, Oi'd loike to wipe out the gang av spalpanes down there."
"Were they other than the murderous wretches they are, I should feel pity for them; but, as it is, there is no pity in my heart. It is a just retribution that they are outcast from their fellow-creatures, are forced to hide like hunted beasts, that they live in terror each day and each night of their lives."
"But this will nivver tell us who our friends are thot have entered th' snare, Frankie."
"No; nor do I know how we are to find out."
"Th' girrul——"
"Is descending."
It was true. Having accomplished her purpose in climbing up there, Miskel was descending. She was as sure-footed and agile as a mountain goat, and it was a pleasure to watch her.
"Frankie, she is a jool! An' do yez soay her fayther is ould Uric Dugan hissilf?"
"So she told me."
"It's a shame! Av it weren't fer thot, Oi'd thry me hand at makin' a mash on th' loikes av her."
Frank was silent; he seemed to be thinking.
"I have it!" he finally cried, striking his hands together.
"Kape it," advised Barney. "It's th' ounly thing ye're loikely to get around this place, my laddybuck."
"By my friends she must have meant Walter Clyde and his companions, Graves and Kerney. They have had time to cruise down the river, and they are here.I'llwager that I am right!"
"Ye may be. But soay! Look down there. So hilp me, there come some ay th' spalpanes, an' they have a prisoner!"
Barney was right. Several Danites were entering the pocket, conducting in their midst a captive. He was a small man, with red hair and whiskers.
"Heavens above!" gasped Frank, thunderstruck. "It's Professor Scotch!"
It was indeed the little professor, who had, in some unaccountable manner, fallen captive to the Danites.
How it had happened the boys could not conceive.
"Be jabez! thot bates me!" gurgled Barney Mulloy, his eyes bulging. "It's hundreds av moiles from here Oi thought th' professor wur this minute."
"And I thought the same," said Frank. "How it comes that he is here I cannot understand."
"It's a moighty bad scrape he is in, me b'y."
"That is right. Now I know what Miskel meant when she said my friends had arrived and were already in the snare."
"The profissor makes but wan, an' she said 'friends.'"
"That is right. She must have meant Clyde and the others. That would make it appear that the professor came with them."
"Sure."
"In that case, where are Clyde and the two explorers, Graves and Kerney? Have they been killed already?"
"It moight seem thot way."
"It appears likely; but, if such is the case, I cannot understand why Professor Scotch was spared."
"No more can Oi, Frankie."
The boys were at their wits' end, and they were in an intensely agitated frame of mind.
Suddenly Frank clutched Barney's arm, pointing down into the pocket, and crying:
"Look! look! the professor has broken away! He isrunning for his life! But he cannot escape! They are hot after him."
It was true. The little man had made a desperate break for liberty, but it was folly to do so, as the Danites soon overtook him. One of them, a stout man, with a short white beard, held a revolver in his hand. He reversed the weapon, grasping it by the barrel, and struck the professor down with the butt.
The sight made Frank's blood boil.
"I will remember that wretch!" grated the boy, his eyes glowing. "If we do not get out of here, I may be able to square a score with him!"
Barney was scarcely less wrought up.
"Poor profissor!" he exclaimed. "It's loikely the divvils will finish him now."
The Danites stood over the man, who had fallen on his face, and lay in a huddled heap. They were talking loudly and making excited gestures. It was plain that they were discussing the advisability of dispatching Professor Scotch without delay, and, judging from his movements, the man with the short white beard was for finishing him without delay. Twice the man pointed his revolver at the prostrate figure, and twice a younger man seemed to urge him to spare the unlucky man's life.
"If he shoots, I'll try a shot at him from here!" cried Frank. "I may not be able to reach him, but I'll try it."
A third time the man pointed his revolver at the motionless form of the man who lay huddled on the ground. This time no one of the group interfered; all stood back, and the younger man, who had twice saved Scotch's life, turned away, plainly unwilling to witness the deed.
"He's going to shoot!" panted Frank, pulling forward his rifle, and bringing it to his shoulder. "I will——"
"Wait a bit, me b'y. Look there! Th' litthle girrul is thrying to save him."
"God bless her!"
Miskel had rushed into the midst of the men, and she was seen pleading with the man who seemed determined to kill the professor. At first, it seemed that she would fail, but she finally prevailed, and the man put up his weapon, with a gesture of angry impatience. Then he seemed to give some orders, and the unconscious captive was lifted and carried toward the camp.
"He is saved for the time," breathed Frank, with relief; "but it is simply a respite."
"Thot is betther than nothing, me b'y."
"Yes, it is better than nothing. Barney, I have a scheme."
"Spake out, Frankie. Me ears are woide open to-night."
"If they spare Professor Scotch till to-night, we will go down there and attempt his rescue."
"Oi'm wid yes, me b'y, to th' ind."
They watched the men bear the unfortunate professor into the camp, and noted carefully the building into which the man was taken.
"We must make no mistake to-night, Barney. It is our duty to do our best to save Professor Scotch."
"An' we'll do our duty av we nivver do anything ilse, begorra!"
"You are bold lads," said a voice behind them; "but you cannot save him from Uric Dugan."
They whirled swiftly, and found Old Solitary had come up behind them, without being heard.
"I found you had awakened," said the strange man; "and I wondered if you had come here."
"And we wondered where you had gone."
"I went forth to see what I should see," he said, in apeculiar manner. "Voices far away in empty space were calling to me—calling, calling, calling!"
The boys shot hasty glances at each other, the same thought flitting through the minds of both.
They had dealt with one maniac, and now was it possible that they were to encounter another?
It had been dark when Old Solitary came upon them the night before, and so they were unable to study his face; but now they saw that his eyes were restless and filled with a shifting light, while his general appearance was that of a man deranged.
Quickly leaning toward Barney, Frank whispered:
"He must be humored; don't anger him."
The man, although he could not have heard the words, noted that something was said, and he cried:
"Why do you whisper together. Would you betray me? Is there no one in the wide world I can trust?"
"Betray you?" said Frank. "To whom can we betray you? You have us in your power, and you can betray us to the Danites, if you choose. You need not fear that we shall betray you."
"Then it must be that you are afraid of me. All the world seems to fear me. Why is it so? What have I ever done to make men afraid of me?"
"Nothing evil, I am sure."
"And you are right. It cuts me to have men shrink from me; but they do, and I have become an outcast. There is something wrong about me—I feel it here."
His hand was lifted to his head, and his face wore a look of deep distress. He seemed to realize, in an uncertain way, that he was not quite right in hismind.
"You have lived so much by yourself that you have grown unsocial," said Frank. "That must be the trouble."
Old Solitary shook his head.
"That is not it. Listen, and I will tell you something.Uric Dugan hates and fears me. I do not care for that; it gives me satisfaction. Still I do not know why it gives me satisfaction, for it pains me when others shrink away in fear. Dugan would kill me if he could, and still he seems to regard me as one risen from death. Can you tell me why?"
He paused, looking at them in an inquiring way.
"You can't tell," came swiftly from his lips, as Frank was about to speak. "No one can tell. I do not know myself. My memory is broken into a thousand fragments. Some things I remember well; some things I do not remember at all. There was a time when I was young, and I had friends. Who were my friends? What has happened to rob me of my memory? I believe Uric Dugan can tell me. If I had not believed so, Dugan should have died long ago. Scores of times I have held his life in the hollow of my hand. I have longed to slay him—to kill him for some wrong he has done me. My hand has been held by a power I could not see. A voice has whispered in my ear, 'Wait.' I have waited. For what? I do not know."
He bowed his head on his breast, over which flowed his long white beard, and his attitude was one of intense dejection.
The boys were silent, wondering at the strange man who had befriended them.
Some moments passed.
"By going forth early I saw many things," the man finally declared, speaking quietly. "You are not the only ones who have strayed into the net of the Danites."
"We have been informed there are others," said Frank.
"Informed? How?"
Frank told how Miskel had shot the message into the mouth of the cave.
"I have seen her hundreds of times," slowly spoke OldSolitary. "She has a good face. It does not seem possible that she is his daughter—the daughter of Uric Dugan. I think the memory of her face has spared his life at times. But it will not be ever thus. The time will come when I shall steel my heart."
"We have just seen the Danites bear a captive into their village, and that captive is my guardian."
"A small man with reddish hair and beard?"
"Yes."
"I saw him captured. He had wandered from others. From a height I saw them all."
"How many are there?"
"There were four, but two of them are Danites."
"What's that?"
"It is true. The man of the sandy beard and the boy came here with two of Uric Dugan's wretched satellites."
"Howly saints!" gasped Barney.
"He must mean the explorers, Graves and Kerney," said Frank.
"They were not explorers; if they said so, they lied. Caleb Kerney is one of the old band of Danites, as bloodthirsty and relentless as the worst of them. Colton Graves is the son of Pascal Graves, once a leader of the Destroying Angels—a man whose hands were dyed with innocent blood. They went forth, with others, to bring provisions from the settlements. All of the others have returned before them."
"And they led Walter Clyde and Professor Scotch into this snare!" said Frank. "They found out that Walter was coming this way to search for the retreat of the Danites, and they led him here, with the intention of destroying him."
"Thot's roight, me b'y," nodded Barney.
"Kerney slipped away, and hastened ahead to tell Uric Dugan who was coming," said Old Solitary, who seemedto know all that had taken place. "Graves remained to guide the victims to their doom."
"Is it possible such monsters can continue to live and carry on their murderous work?" exclaimed Frank.
"Some day Ko-pe-tah will find the way in here," laughed Old Solitary.
"Who is Ko-pe-tah?"
"A Navajo chief who hates Uric Dugan, and has tried to kill him. Twice within two years has Ko-pe-tah brought his braves into these mountains, searching for some access to this valley. The last time he was here, he found the passage by which you entered. Four of the Danites held the passage against a hundred warriors, and the Navajoes were repulsed. But Ko-pe-tah swore he would come again. If he ever gets in here, woe unto the Danites!"
"How did it happen that we came through that passage without being stopped?"
"You were alone, two boys. You were seen, and were allowed to enter, for they knew you could not escape. They made sure of you by letting you walk into the trap."
"But Ko-pe-tah was held out."
"Because he had a hundred warriors behind him, and he would destroy the Danites if he got inside."
This was logical enough, and, at that moment Old Solitary scarcely seemed like a person deranged.
Frank spent some moments in thought, and then asked:
"Are Clyde and Graves still together?"
"They are."
"And Clyde has no knowledge that Graves is other than what he represented himself to be?"
"It is not likely that he has."
"He must be warned."
"It is too late.'
"Why?"
"Before you can reach him the Danites will have him in their power."
"That is not certain," cried Frank, starting up. "Come, we will try to save him. Lead us to him."
"You shall see that what I say is true," said Old Solitary.
He motioned for them to follow, and led the way back along the passage, the torch having been relighted.
Through the main chamber they passed, and came to another passage, which finally brought them out far from the mountain pocket in which was the home of the Danites.
"Look," directed Old Solitary, touching Frank's arm and pointing across the wide canyon. "Away there you see figures moving amid the rocks. They are human beings with hearts of beasts. They are Danites, and they are creeping like panthers upon their victim, the boy you call Walter Clyde."