The following day Frank obtained permission to look at the ring through the powerful microscope belonging to the academy. Bart accompanied him to the experimenting room, and they were soon taking turns in looking at the marked stone.
"What do you make of it, old man?" asked Bart.
"It looks like a map," said Frank.
"Right!" exclaimed the other lad. "It looks like a map, and I believe that is what it is."
There is a river, or road, and mountains, something that looks like a lake, and then a tiny cross. The cross must be a landmark.
"Yes; and you will note that it is at the end of what looks like a river."
"But that must be a road."
"It is, if this is a map, for it runs over that range of hills, or mountains."
"That is plain enough."
"And you will see there is a tiny, snake-like thread that winds away from that spot, which looks as if it was intended for a lake."
"I see it."
"That must be a river, or stream."
The boys were now very excited. All doubts were fading from their minds; the lines on the black stone had surely been intended to represent a map.
But what portion of the face of the earth did it portray? That was a question the ring did not answer.
"Supposing it is a map," said Frank, helplessly; "what good will it do me? I do not know what it is a map of."
"But you may bet your last dollar the man in black knows."
"I don't see how that is going to do me any good.
"It will do him some good, if he gets hold of this ring."
"Well, I shall take care that he does not get hold of it."
The map—if it were a map—on the stone served to more fully arouse the curiosity of the boys, without in any way satisfying them concerning the mystery of the ring.
Frank became so absorbed in trying to discover the true meaning of the map and in getting some light on the mystery that he began to neglect his studies. This, however, was quickly noted by Hodge, who said:
"Be careful, old man; don't let that ring get into your head so that you will lose your chance of standing well up in your class. You are all right in drill work, and you should be appointed a corporal next month."
"Hang the old ring!" exclaimed Frank, petulantly. "I never had anything cause me so much bother before. Whenever I try to study I fall to thinking of it, and I dream of it every night."
Two days passed, and nothing more was seen of the man in black during that time, which led Bart to believe that the mysterious individual had left the vicinity.
"He must have fancied that you would have him arrested for attacking you on the road," said Hodge. "You are not likely to see him again very soon."
"Don't get that impression into your head," returned Frank. "He is not far away. I seem to feel that he is lurking near, awaiting his next opportunity."
"That's tommy-rot! You have let this old ring mix you all up. Don't slip any cogs now, Frank, or you may have the pleasure of seeing your new rival, Paul Rains, appointed a corporal, while you still remain an ordinary cadet."
Frank flushed.
"Rains is not a bad fellow," he said. "He is square."
"He may seem so to you," said Hodge; "but I am suspicious of any fellow who has much to do with Wat Snell and that gang. Frank, it is a wonder to me that you ever came to have anything to do with me afterward—well, you know."
"I shouldn't if I hadn't believed there was some good in you for all of appearances."
"Thank you, old man!" exclaimed Hodge, with genuine feeling. "You are white all the way through, and I believe it is to you I owe credit for still remaining a cadet in this school."
"Nonsense!"
"There is no nonsense about it. You know I tried two military schools before I came here, and I did not remain in either. I could not get along. You have helped me over the hard places, and you have stood by me, through thick and thin, although most of the fellows, disliked me at first, and thought you were foolish in doing what you did. I have been no particular aid to you, but I have led you into temptations and dangers you would have avoided but for the fact that we were roommates and friends. In return, you have saved me many bad breaks, and I am not liable to forget. I did hate you most intensely, but you shall find that I can be as strong in my friendships as I am in my hatreds."
This was saying a great deal for Hodge, who was usually silent and reserved concerning himself. But Bart knew he was speaking no more than the truth, and he felt that the time had come when such an acknowledgment would do him good.
Frank's generous heart was touched by this new revelation of his friend's nature, and he grasped Bart's hand warmly.
"If I have helped you in any way, I am glad to know it," he said, earnestly.
"Well, you have; and you have taken demerit on my account without a murmur. It is selfish of me to cling to cigarettes when 'tobacco smoke in quarters' has been reported against us so many times. By jingoes! I'm going to swear off! They don't do a fellow any good, and they get an awful hold on one. It won't be easy for me to give them up; but I am going to do it. If you catch me smoking another of the things, you may kick me till there isn't a breath left in my body! That's business, and I will stick to it!"
"Good!" laughed Frank. "You have been smoking a good many of them lately, and I have noticed that you complained of your lungs. How can your lungs be in any condition when you are constantly inhaling so much of that smoke! I know of a young fellow with weak lungs who went into quick consumption, and the doctors said cigarettes were entirely responsible. He smoked a number of packages a day. When he started he simply smoked now and then, but the habit grew on him, and at last he was unable to break it."
"I believe any fellow can break off smoking them if he has any will-power of his own."
"I think a fellow should, but you may not find it as easy as you fancy."
"Oh, it will be easy enough for me. When I make up my mind to a thing, I never give up."
"Well, I sincerely trust it will prove so. Every one knows cigarettes are harmful. Yesterday I read in a paper about a boy in a New York hospital who was said to have a 'tobacco heart' from smoking cigarettes. By a tobacco heart it was meant that his heart was so badly affected that it did not perform its action regularly and properly. Sometimes he is convulsed with terrible pains, and gasps for breath. Nearly all the time he moans and begs for cigarettes; but the doctors say he must never smoke another one if he cares to live. As it is, if he should get up, his heart is so weakened that it may go on a strike any time and cause his death."
"Oh, say!" laughed Bart; "that settles it. Now, I never will smoke again. I mean it—you see if I don't."
"I sincerely hope you do. You may become one of the best athletes in this school. Your only trouble has been shortness of breath when you exercise heavily, and that came entirely from smoking. If you give it up, you will soon cease to be troubled that way."
"Well, here's my hand on it, and it is as good as settled. No matter how much I may desire a smoke now, I'll not monkey with the deadly cigarette."
Their hands met again.
Frank Merriwell was right in thinking he had not seen the last of the man in black. On the third day after his first meeting with the mysterious stranger he was astonished, while ascending the stairs, to see that individual come out of Professor Gunn's room. Frank paused on the flight that led to the "Cock-loft," and watched the man hurriedly descend the stairs.
"Great Scott!" muttered the young cadet. "That is remarkable. I wonder what he was up to in the professor's room? He saw me, but he hustled away in a hurry."
For a moment Frank hesitated, and then he resolved to find out, if possible, what could be the meaning of the stranger's visit. With this object in view, he descended the stairs and approached the professor's door, on which he rapped.
Of late Professor Gunn had been severely troubled with headaches, and, this happening to be one of his bad days, he was stopping in his room, with his head bound up in a cloth saturated with camphor. Frank was obliged to rap a second time, and then the professor's shuffling step was heard, and his cloth-bound head appeared as the door opened.
"What's wanted?" he asked, sharply. "Can't I have any peace and rest? Speak up—what's wanted?"
"I have something to ask you, professor?" said Frank, quietly.
"Ah, is it you, Merriwell? I was going to see you later. Come in."
Not a little surprised, Frank entered the professor's room, standing cap in hand, while the crusty old fellow seated himself in an easy chair, and asked:
"What is it you want to see me about, young man?"
"You were lately visited by a stranger, whom I saw leaving this room a few moments ago."
"Yes, sir—yes."
"That man assaulted me on the highway a few nights ago."
"What's that—what? Assaulted you? This is interesting—decidedly!"
"Yes, he assaulted me; but I managed to give him the worst of it, and got away without being harmed."
"You should have reported the occurrence—you certainly should. That was the proper thing to do—the correct thing, young man. Then I would have known how to receive him."
"I thought he had gone away from this vicinity, but it seems that he has not. Now, I would like to know his name. What is his name, professor, please?"
"Eh? Ah? His name? Let me see. Now that is surprising—really surprising. I do not think he gave me his name."
"Did not give his name? How did he obtain admission to the building?"
"That's so—how did he? I hadn't thought of that. He was the smoothest talker I ever heard; he didn't give me a chance to ask many questions."
"He must have had some sort of business with you."
"He did—that is, he pretended to have. He said he was here to recover some property that belonged to him—property he lost several years ago."
The eyes of the old professor searched Frank's hands and rested on the peculiar ring.
"So that was his trick—the scoundrel!" cried Frank, repressing his anger with difficulty. "I presume he claimed this ring belonged to him?"
"Well—ahem!—he described such a ring, which he said he had seen on the hand of a student here."
"Exactly. And he named me as the possessor of the ring?"
"He said the name of the student's father was Charles Conrad Merriwell. I believe, sir—I am quite sure, in fact—that that was the name of your father."
Frank was fully aroused, and his brown eyes gleamed in a way that showed how indignant he was, although it was necessary to keep his feelings suppressed as far as possible.
"Professor Gunn," he said, swiftly, "that man is a scoundrel!"
"Eh? Ha! Hum! Severe language. Be careful, young man—be cautious. Do not make a statement you cannot stand behind. It is dangerous—very dangerous."
"I can stand behind every word I have said. Why, when he found I would not sell him the ring, professor, he tried to rob me of it! That is not only the act of a scoundrel, but that of a desperado."
"It looks bad—bad," confessed the old professor, who seemed in a somewhat nervous and flustered state. "Tell me all about it—give the full particulars of the occurrence."
Frank did so, telling a straightforward story, to which the professor listened with interest that was apparent, although he now and then pressed his hand to his head, as if the pain were troubling him.
When the story was finished, and Frank had explained what he and Bart had discovered on the black stone set in the ring, the old professor showed that he was quite wrought up.
"Remarkable!" he exclaimed—"re-e-markable! I am surprised—I am puzzled. This man told a very straight story—said the ring was stolen from him in Arizona. He said it was very valuable to him, as it was an heirloom. He could not tell how it came into your possession—he did not try. All he wanted was to recover his property—that was all."
"That was his scheme when he found he could not buy it from me. He did not attempt to make you believe he was a collector of odd rings, professor, for he knew that would do no good, and so he laid claim to the ring. What proof did he give you that it was his property?"
"Eh? Proof? It seems as if he did give proof of some sort, but really I don't know as he did. He was such a plausible person—so very smooth and convincing. Why, I did not think of doubting him. But I know your record very well since entering the academy, Merriwell. It is satisfactory—quite satisfactory. I do not think you are the sort of a lad to tell a deliberate falsehood—no, sir, no."
"Thank you, sir."
"That being the case, I shall have to accept your statement—yes, I will accept it. He said he would call again to-morrow. Let him come! I think I will have an officer on hand—he shall be arrested the moment he shows himself. That's right—that's proper. Hum! ha! Assaulted a cadet of Fardale Academy, did he? Attempted to rob a student at this school, did he? Well, he shall be duly and properly punished—yes, sir."
The professor had worked himself up into a state of considerable excitement, seeming to have forgotten his headache for the time. He got upon his feet and went tramping about the room in his slippers, the heels of which had been trodden down. He perched his nose-glasses far down on his pointed proboscis, and glared over them in a way he had when he was endeavoring to appear very impressive before a class.
Under other circumstances Frank might have smiled at the figure cut by the excited old man, but he was now far too angry himself to note what was ludicrous.
"Take care of that ring, young man," advised the professor—"take the best of care of it. It may be more valuable than it appears. There is certainly something connected with this ring that makes it valuable to this stranger—or else the man is a lunatic—yes, sir, a lunatic. I do not think that—no, I do not. He appeared rational—he was quite sane when he was here—quite so."
"I have ever regarded this ring as simply an ugly ornament that my father ran across and took a fancy to; but now I believe it must be something more."
"It is likely—quite likely. It seems that there is a mystery connected with the ring. It may be solved soon—very soon. This stranger must know a great deal concerning it. Perhaps he will tell what he knows—perhaps he may be induced to tell."
The professor said this in a peculiar way, that seemed to say "strong inducements" would be held out to the strange man in black.
Frank had seen Professor Gunn, and asked his question, but the mystery was deep as ever when the boy left the professor's room.
Frank was not the only one who had observed the man in black as that mysterious individual was departing. Bart Hodge saw the sinister stranger, and instantly recognized him from Frank's description.
"Great Scott!" thought Bart. "What can that imp of Satan be up to here?"
The man was hurrying from the grounds, and Hodge followed. The man passed the sentry, but Bart was challenged.
"See that man?" said the lad, hurriedly. "I am satisfied that he has been up to some mischief. I want to follow him, and see where he goes."
"You cannot leave the grounds without a pass," said the sentinel, firmly.
"Oh, hang your pass!" cried Bart, warmly, as he saw there was danger that the man in black would escape. "This is an exceptional case."
"A sentry knows no exceptions. If you leave the grounds, you will have to obtain a pass from the office."
"But that man is a robber—a highwayman! If you stand on the rules of the academy now, he will escape, and you may be reprimanded."
"I shall do my duty as sentinel, sir, reprimand or no reprimand."
The man in black was walking swiftly up the road toward the village, his cape flapping behind him in the wind like the wings of a bat. In a few moments he would disappear from view.
"Hang the luck!" grated Hodge, as he turned away in disappointment. "I'd given something to follow him up."
He was inclined to be angry at the sentinel at first, but his friendship with Merriwell had taught him that he should have forbearance when in the right, and should never hold a grudge when in the wrong. Sober reason told him the sentinel had done no more than his plain duty, so the feeling of anger was swiftly banished from Bart's breast.
"I will find Frank and tell him what is up," he thought.
As he walked swiftly toward the barracks, he was met by Wat Snell, who said:
"Hello, Hodge. I want to have a talk with you."
"With me?" asked Bart, in surprise.
Snell had not been friendly for some time, and, of late, he had ceased to speak to Hodge. This had not troubled Bart at all, but he was greatly surprised by this advance on the part of his enemy.
"Yes, with you," assured Snell. "There was a time when you were ready enough to talk with me. I have even known you to follow me up to get a chance to have a word in private with me."
The face of the dark-haired boy flushed.
"That time is past," he said. "What do you want of me?"
"It is my turn now. I want to have a word in private with you."
Bart did not fancy this much. He knew Snell for exactly what the fellow was—a sneaking, revengeful rascal. The thought that he had ever had dealings with such a scamp made Bart's cheeks burn and caused him to regard himself with no little contempt.
He did not care to be seen talking privately with Snell, and he glanced hastily around, to see if any one was watching them.
Snell noted the look, and an angry light came into his eyes, which were somewhat too small and set so near together that they seemed crowding his nose between them.
"Oh, you hesitate over it, do you!" he sneered. "That's like some fellows to go back on their old friends! You won't make anything by it in the end."
"If you have anything to say to me, say it," commanded Hodge, sharply.
"Come over here where the fellows can't see us from the windows," invited Snell, beckoning Bart to follow.
But Hodge did not stir.
"No, sir," he said, firmly. "If you have anything you want to say to me, say it right here."
Snell did not like this. He came back slowly, casting a hasty, doubtful look up to the dormitory windows. After some hesitation, during which he kicked the gravel of the walk with his toe, he began:
"There was a time when you didn't like Merriwell any better than the rest of us, and you have done things that would put you in a pretty bad corner, if they were known."
Hodge's brows lowered in a scowl, and his nostrils dilated, like those of a wild creature that scents danger. He said nothing, but his steady, piercing gaze made Snell keep his eyes on the ground.
"Of course I am not the kind of a fellow to blow anything of the sort," Wat went on, hurriedly. "I simply mentioned it by chance. You seem friendly with Merriwell now, and I thought you might have forgotten."
"I wonder what the rascal is coming at?" thought Bart; but not a word did he speak aloud.
"For the sake of old times, I thought—perhaps—you might do something for some of your old friends—I didn't know but you might. It can't harm Merriwell any in particular—he'll never miss it. It will be a lift for me, and I can make it an object for you."
Snell was floundering, and the look on his face seemed to indicate that he was growing frightened and felt like taking to his heels.
Of a sudden, Hodge became curious to know what the fellow had to say, and so he decided to try diplomacy.
"I do not forget my friends," he said. "What is it you want of me, Snell?"
That gave Wat a little courage.
"Before I tell you, Hodge, I want to say that you will be well paid if you help out a little in this matter, and Merriwell can never know that you were in it. He'll never suspect you. You didn't have any scruples about doing something of the sort once on a time."
"Well, what is it?" demanded Bart, impatiently. "Don't beat round the bush so much."
"Oh, don't be in such a hurry!" fluttered Snell, nervously, far from feeling fully confident of Hodge. "There's money in this. It will be twenty-five dollars in your pocket if you do what I want you to. Are you with me?"
"That depends on what you want me to do. Name it."
"Well, Merriwell has something that doesn't rightfully belong to him. Understand that—it is not his by right. It belongs to a friend of mine, who wants me to recover his property."
"Well?"
"You can aid me, as you room with Merriwell."
"Jupiter!" thought Bart. "I wonder if the mysterious ring is the piece of property Snell means?"
It was with no little difficulty that Hodge held himself in check; but he did not wish Snell to become alarmed, and so he quietly asked:
"What is this piece of property?"
"It is something Merriwell wears every day. I suppose he takes it off occasionally. That would give you your chance. Mind you, it is not rightfully his, but it belongs to my friend, so there is no harm in taking it to restore it to its proper owner. In fact, that is a simple act of justice."
"Why doesn't the rightful owner recover his property in the regular manner?"
"That might prove difficult, or even impossible, as he would have trouble in establishing his claim, and Merriwell might conceal the property. It is not the value of this property that the owner cares so much for; he wants the property itself."
There was no longer any doubt in Bart's mind; Snell was speaking of the ring. The man in black had resorted to another scheme to obtain possession of that ugly ornament.
With the greatest difficulty, Hodge kept cool and placid, as he asked:
"And you want me to steal this property?"
"No, no, no! It would not be stealing it; it would be returning it to its proper owner. Can't you see?"
"Well, if I am going to do this job, I must know what the property is."
"It is the ring Merriwell wears when he is not in ranks—the twisted band, with a black stone set in it."
"And you want me to obtain that ring and give it to you?"
"Yes."
"For which I am to receive twenty-five dollars?"
"Yes. What is your answer?"
"This is my answer!"
Like a flash, Hodge struck out straight from the shoulder, and his fist caught Snell between the eyes.
Smack!
The blow sounded sharp and clear, and Snell quickly found himself stretched on the gravel walk. He looked up in a dazed way, to see Hodge standing near at hand, regarding him with withering scorn.
"You'll pay dearly for this!" gasped Snell, lifting himself to his elbow and glaring at Bart.
"All right," was the hot retort. "I am willing to pay for it. You may have taken me for a thief, but I rather think you have discovered your mistake."
"You weren't so honest once on a time, not so very long——"
"What's that?" cried Bart, taking a threatening step toward the fellow. "I was never a thief, no matter what my other failings may have been; and if you dare insinuate such a thing, I will ram the words down your throat!"
"That's all right—that's all right!" muttered Wat, scrambling up and getting out of reach. "I will report this assault."
"Report it, and be hanged! The fellows in this academy admire a tattler! You will have a very pleasant time if you report it!"
"It was seen. Somebody will tell Professor Gunn."
"Perhaps so; but it isn't best that you are the one."
"I'll—I'll get even!"
"Go ahead. I'd like the satisfaction of fighting you to a finish."
"I will not fight with my fists," blustered Wat, trying to appear very fierce. "There are more deadly weapons."
"Name any weapon you choose. I will be only too glad to meet you. I am a good pistol shot, and Professor Rhynas says I handle the foils fairly well."
"Oh, you're a regular ruffian!" cried Snell, his chin beginning to quiver and his voice choking with anger that brought tears to his eyes. "I will not fight you in any way! I do not pretend to be a match for a ruffian of your sort. But I will get square just the same."
"I presume you will try to square the account in some sneaking manner. Well, I warn you now and here that it will not be healthy if you try any dirty tricks on me. If anything underhand happens to me, I'll know who was the originator of it, and I'll settle with you. That is business!"
With this, Bart turned to walk away, noting that a great many of the cadets were peering from the windows, some of them grinning with delight.
Snell shook his fist at Hodge's back, blustering:
"This is all right—all right, sir! It is not necessary for me to fight you; you are not on the same level with me."
"No," muttered the dark-haired boy, grimly, "I have never sunk as low as that."
The room occupied by Merriwell and Hodge was not on that side of the building, so Frank, who was studying, had not witnessed the encounter between his roommate and Snell.
Fortunately, also, the blow had not been seen by any one but cadets, so it was not liable to come to Professor Gunn's knowledge, unless Wat told of it himself.
Bart found Frank in their room, and Merriwell looked up as the dark-haired boy entered with a quick, nervous step.
"Hello!" he cried, in surprise. "What's happened? Your face is dark as a thunder-cloud, and you look as if you could eat iron."
"Well, I feel as if I wouldn't have any trouble in chewing up a few pounds of iron," replied Bart. "By Jove! old man, I never realized till a few minutes ago how narrow was my escape from being a most contemptible scoundrel!"
"How is that?"
"I was taken for a thief!" grated Bart, his white teeth clicking. "Yes, sir, taken for a thief!"
"It must have been by somebody who does not know you very well."
"That's where you are wrong. It was by somebody who knows me far too well. That is why I feel that my escape from being a scoundrel was a narrow one."
Had he not seen that Bart was so serious and thoroughly in earnest, Frank must have smiled.
"Give us the particulars," he urged. "What did you do when you were taken for a thief?"
"Knocked the cad down!" snarled Bart, smashing his clinched right hand into the open palm of his left.
"That was very proper," assured Merriwell. "You did nicely, my son."
"But I do not feel any the less humiliated. If I had not given him reason to approach me in such a manner, he would not have ventured."
Then Bart related the particulars of his adventure with Snell.
"So, so!" muttered Frank. "That rascal is in this affair. The man in black has chosen a good tool."
"That man is determined to have your ring."
"I should say so. He has been to Professor Gunn and represented that the ring belonged to him." And then Frank took his turn to tell what he had learned from the head professor.
"Well, I never!" cried Bart, as Frank finished. "Why, the scoundrel has the cheek of a brass monkey! He is dangerous, Frank."
"I believe you."
"If I were in your place, I would swear out a warrant for his arrest, and send an officer after him."
"I may be forced to do so."
"And I advise you to keep your eye on Wat Snell."
"I will do that."
"In the meantime, let me take the ring long enough to make an enlarged drawing of those lines, so that you will have the map, if it is a map, even if you lose the ring. You know my ability to copy with pen and ink anything I see. My father wants me to become a civil engineer, and so I am taking a course to suit him; but, when I leave Fardale, I mean to go to an art school, and find out if I am not cut out for an artist."
"How can you make a drawing of the lines?"
"Why, I will place the ring under a microscope, and then it will not be difficult. You know I can be very accurate when I try."
"Yes, I know it, and I will think of your plan. I am inclined to believe it is a good one. Whether I should lose the ring or not, I'd like to have a copy of that map to study."
"I'll find time to do the job to-morrow, if Old Gunn will permit us to use the microscope again."
On the following day, however, Bart found no opportunity to make the drawing.
Frank watched for the man in black, who had said he would call on Professor Gunn again; but the mysterious man did not put in an appearance, and Merriwell waited his time.
Wat Snell was forced to endure no end of ridicule from his companions, as it was the rule at Fardale that a student who had received a blow or an insult must challenge the one who gave it. If he did not do so, he was regarded as a coward, and his life in school from that time was certain to be far from pleasant.
In his heart Snell was an arrant coward, and he knew that Hodge was really longing for a challenge. Wat felt sure that he would receive a severe drubbing at the hands of the dark-haired boy whom he had angered, and the thoughts of such punishment filled his soul with horror.
"I can't fight him—it's no use, I can't!" he told himself over and over. "He is a turn-coat, anyway! He did not pretend to be so conscientious till after he got thick with Merriwell. Oh, Merriwell is really the one who is at the bottom of all the trouble I have had in this school, and I hate him worse than I do Hodge.
"I'd like to get hold of that ring. Jupiter! seventy-five dollars is a price to pay for an old ring like that, but it's what that strange man in black offered me to secure it for him. There's something mighty mysterious about that ring. I wish I knew what the mystery is. I am going to ask the man when I see him this evening."
That night Snell escaped from the building and the grounds without obtaining leave. He was going to keep an appointment with the man in black.
Snell was followed.
Frank had taken Bart's advice to keep an eye on the fellow, and something in Wat's actions had given him the impression that Snell was up to something that he did not care to have generally known.
With a great deal of skill, Frank kept watch of Snell till the latter slipped from the grounds under cover of darkness.
It was a cloudy night, with the wind moaning far out at sea, and the waves roaring sullenly along the base of Black Bluff, down the shore.
As may be imagined, it was no easy task to follow Wat without losing the fellow in the darkness or getting so close that the "shadowed" lad would discover that somebody was watching him.
Although he was not aware of it, Frank possessed a remarkable faculty for performing such a task. He moved with the silence of a creeping cat, and yet covered ground with sufficient swiftness to keep near Wat.
Something must have made Snell suspicious, for three times he stopped and peered back through the darkness, and three times Frank sunk like a ghost to the ground, escaping discovery by his swiftness in making the move.
Indeed, had it been possible for a third party to watch them, it must have seemed that Merriwell felt an intuition which told him exactly when Snell was going to look back.
Once or twice before they came to the road that led up from the cove, Frank lost sight of the boy he was following, but his keen ears served him quite as well as his eyes.
When the road up the hill was reached Frank was able to follow Wat with greater ease.
Suddenly Snell paused and whistled three times. In a moment a single sharp whistle sounded near at hand, and then Frank, crouching close to the ground, saw a black figure come toward Wat Snell.
The wind that was moaning over the sea swept up the road and caused something to flap around the shoulders of this figure like a great pair of wings.
For all of the darkness, Frank recognized this figure, and he was seized with an indefinable feeling of fear such as he had never felt before.
With an effort, Frank steadied his quivering nerves, remaining quiet to watch and listen.
The person who had appeared in answer to Snell's signal was the man in black, and he quickly pounced upon the boy, like a huge hawk upon its prey.
"The ring!" he cried, hoarsely. "Where is it?"
Wat gave a low cry of fear.
"Don't!" he gasped. "You're hurting me! Your fingers are hard as iron, and they crush right into a fellow!"
"The ring!" repeated the man, fiercely. "Produce it!"
"I haven't got it."
"What?" snarled the mysterious stranger. "You have not kept your word! What do you mean?"
"Don't shake a fellow like that!" quavered Snell. "You act like a madman."
"Answer my questions! Why haven't you kept your word?"
"Couldn't."
"Why not?"
"Didn't get the chance."
"But you said you could get a boy to assist you—the fellow who rooms with this Merriwell."
"I thought I could, but the cad went back on me."
"He refused to aid you?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you have found no opportunity to get hold of the ring yourself?"
"Not yet—but I will, sir," Snell hastily answered. "All I want is to know that you will pay me as you agreed. Don't hold onto my arm so tight; I won't run away."
"Bah!" cried the man in black, as he half-flung Wat from him. "What beastly luck!"
"It is bad luck," confessed Snell, falteringly. "But it isn't my fault. I have done my best."
The man in black said nothing, but stood with his head bowed, the elbow of his right arm resting in the hollow of his left hand, while his right hand, fiercely clinched, supported his chin. The wind continued to flap the cape about his shoulders.
The man's attitude and his silence gave Snell a feeling of fear, and he drew away, acting as if he contemplated taking to his heels, for all that he had said he would not run.
"I do not propose to endure much more of this," muttered the man, at length. "I'll have that ring soon, by some means!"
"You must consider it very valuable," said Wat, curiously.
"Valuable!" came hoarsely from the lips of the man in black. "I should say so! If it were not, I shouldn't be making such a desperate struggle to get possession of it."
The lad who was listening a short distance away, strained his ears to catch every word.
"There must be some secret about the ring?" insinuated Snell. "The gold in it amounts to little, and the old black stone——"
A strange sound came from the throat of the man in black, and then, seeming to fancy that he had admitted altogether too much, he hastened to say:
"The ring is valuable to me; but it is worth little to anybody else."
"I suppose that is because nobody else knows its secret?" came from Snell.
"Secret! Bah! It has no secret!"
But it was not easy to convince Snell that this was the truth.
"Then why should you go to such extremes to get possession of a wretched old thing of that sort?" demanded Wat.
"I have told you. The ring belonged to me—was stolen from me. It has been in our family a great length of time, and was given me by my father. I prize it highly for that reason. I do not know how it came into the possession of this Merriwell family, and I cannot prove my claim to my own property, so I must recover it in such a manner as is possible. That is the truth."
Wat said nothing. Somehow he was doubtful, for it did not seem that anybody who was sane could resort to such desperate expedients to recover an ugly old ring that had no particular value save as an heirloom.
As for Frank, he might have believed the strange man's story, but for the fact that the man had told him something entirely different. One story or the other might be true, but in any case the man in black was a liar.
There was a brief silence, and then Snell asked:
"How am I to know that you will surely pay me seventy-five dollars for the ring? You pounced upon me a few minutes ago as if you would rob me of it if it had been in my possession."
"That was all through my eagerness and excitement," declared the man, soothingly. "I meant you no harm, but I was very anxious."
"Well, I don't know; I am afraid I will be left when I get the ring and hand it over, so I guess I'll——"
"What?"
Wat edged a little farther away.
"I guess I'll throw up the job," he hesitated.
"Do you still think you can find a way to get the ring?"
"Think so! I know I can get it, sooner or later, if I want to."
"Then look here, to prove that I am sincere I will pay you this much in advance. It is a twenty-dollar gold piece. Now you cannot doubt my earnestness and fairness in this matter. If you bring me the ring within forty-eight hours, I'll pay you, besides this twenty, the seventy-five dollars I offered in the first place."
Snell eagerly clutched the piece of money.
"You're a brick!" he cried. "And I'll lay myself out to get that ring. I haven't begun to try the schemes I have in my head. I will meet you here to-morrow night at about this time, and I'll do my best to have the ring. Only, if I haven't got it, I want you to promise not to jump on me and grab me the way you did to-night."
"Don't be afraid. I won't harm you."
"Well, you can scare a fellow out of his boots, and I don't like to be scared."
"I am afraid you are something of a coward," said the man, a trace of contempt in his tone.
But little more passed between them before the man in black turned away toward Fardale village, and Wat descended the road in the direction of the academy.
Frank hugged the ground at one side of the road, and he was not seen by Snell.
But, by the time Wat had gone so far that there was little danger of discovery if Frank moved from the locality, the man in black had vanished in the night.
Still, Frank sprang up and went scurrying lightly up the hill, keeping to the grass at the side of the road, so his feet made scarcely a sound.
He hurried along the road till Fardale village was almost reached, but he saw nothing more of the man in black. The mysterious stranger had vanished as completely as if swallowed up by the earth.
Frank had hoped to trace the man to the place where he was stopping, but he was forced to give this up and hurry back to the academy.
Still he had not wasted his time.
"They will meet there to-morrow night, eh?" he muttered. "Well, it would not be a very difficult thing to have an officer on hand with a warrant for this stranger."
He went straight to his room, hoping to find Hodge there.
He did. Bart was seated in his favorite attitude, with his feet on the table, and a cigarette in his mouth!