The man on the ground moved and groaned.
"I had to do it!" whispered Del Norte.
The torch was going out. The man on the ground lay stretched squarely across the floor of the cave, which was not more than eight feet wide at that point. In order to reach the torch it would be absolutely necessary to step over him.
Del Norte started and then stopped. His teeth were chattering, and his cheeks were fully as pale as those of the poor wretch at his feet.
The torch burned dimmer.
At last the Mexican summoned all his courage and stepped over the body, catching up the torch. He swung it until it blazed up brightly.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry, Ridgeway; but you forced me!"
He stepped back over the body and turned with the torch in his hand to take a last look. The eyes of the stricken man were staring straight up at the rocky ceiling, and there was on his face a strangely altered expression, at which Del Norte wondered. In truth, his look was one of peace and happiness, and he smiled a little. His lips moved, and faintly he whispered:
"Mother—it is—your boy—Jack!"
Then those lips were hushed forever.
With the smoking torch gripped in one shaking hand and the knife that had done the terrible work in the other, Porfias del Norte hurried from the scene of that frightful underground tragedy.
"I'm the only one left," he muttered thickly. "I can't last long in this infernal hole."
He stopped in the central chamber.
"Where does all the smoke go to?" he exclaimed. "By this time the torch should have filled the place to suffocation."
There was smoke enough in the chamber, but, as he stood there, he could see it creeping across the roof above his head, striking the lower arch of the passage, and passing on in a slow, gentle current.
"It finds an outlet somewhere!" he whispered, feeling his heart giving a sudden leap in his breast. "What sort of an outlet?"
The faintest ray of hope had shot into his soul. Still he realized that smoke might go where a human being could not pass. Nevertheless, with a burning sensation of eagerness creeping over his hitherto chilled body, he bent low and hastened onward into that low passage.
All the time he kept staring upward at the smoke.
Suddenly he stopped.
He had found the place where the smoke escaped!
It was directly over his head, a long crack across the roof, scarcely wider than a man's hand. Into this the smoke was pouring in the same slow, deliberate manner.
He stared at that crack in bitter, heart-crushed disappointment.
Smoke might escape through that narrow fissure, but a human being—never!
The agony of disappointment that he felt nearly robbed him of his strength and caused him to collapse. He fell back against the wall, a groan coming from his parched throat.
"No chance!" he said hoarsely. "Ridgeway was right! We were both doomed when the landslide came! But he is the better off, for his agony is over!"
Then he thought of his pistol. As a last resort he could blow out his brains and have it ended.
He thrust the deadly knife back into the bosom of his shirt, straightened up, and thrust his fingers into the crack. He tried to force his hand through, to reach up appealingly to the free world far above.
A few pebbles and a little dirt came rattling down and rained over him, bounding from his head and shoulders. Some of the tiny particles of stone struck him on the face.
Then suddenly he began clawing like a madman at the crack, as if he would pull the whole mountain down upon him.
His efforts brought down more stones and earth.
He found a niche into which he set the torch, and then he fell on his knees, calling on the saints.
When he rose again to his feet he bethought himself of the knife and once more took it from the place where it was hidden. With that knife he began digging at the crack. He was compelled to stand in a cramped, crouching position, but he worked fiercely, furiously.
More and more the earth rattled over him and the tiny pebbles rained upon him. His eyes were filled and half blinded, his mouth and nostrils inhaled the dust and caused him to cough. The smoke of the torch choked him.
Still he worked on. It seemed a mad, hopeless task, for he knew that above his head the slope of the mountain extended far upward. Should he make an opening large enough for his body as far as he could reach, what then could he do?
Even though he knew that the chances were a million to one against him, he continued to labor at the roof of the cave, digging out the rocks and earth with his knife. The stuff thus set free began to heap itself in a little circular rim about his feet.
Once he stopped. The torch was dying down, and a glance showed him that it was almost burned out.
The thought of being again left in that frightful darkness made him quickly catch up the bit of burning wood that remained and hasten back to seek for more of the extinguished torches. With its aid he found two of them. He lighted one and returned to the spot where he had been at work.
It seemed that already he had spent many days in that cave of death. He wondered that he was not overcome with hunger, and he felt an awful longing for water. Oh, for a drink, for a swallow, for a drop!
"There's plenty of water outside," he snarled. "There are streams, and rivers, and lakes! I'd give my everlasting soul to drink from one of them now!"
Dig! dig! dig! He was working in the same frantic manner as before. His strength still held out, and he was glad of that. Even if he could not escape, this was something to occupy his mind for the time and prevent him from going mad.
Suddenly a considerable mass of earth, set free by his efforts, fell into the cave. A stone, the size of a man's fist, struck him on the shoulder, but he did not mind the pain.
"I'm dragging the mountain down upon me!" he grated. "I don't care! I am glad! Let it come! Let it fall!"
He stood with one shoulder against the roof, reaching up into the hole he had made, still cutting away with this once keen knife, which was now dulled and blunted.
Suddenly something snapped—something fell on the heap of stones and earth at his feet.
It was the blade of the knife, which had been broken in the middle!
As he stood staring at the broken blade he found the light again growing dimmer, and then he saw that the second torch had burned to the point of expiring.
He lighted the last torch.
When that was burned out he could not escape the dreadful darkness that would close over him.
But the broken knife—the only tool with which he could work was useless!
He dropped in a sitting posture on the ground and covered his distorted, terror-drawn face with his hands. For some time he sat thus, without moving, without making a sound.
The silence was broken by a pattering sound like hail. He lowered his hands and saw that earth was still falling from the hole he had made. It came in little starts and spurts.
The captive of the cave sprang up once more. He thrust both arms up into that hole and tore with his fingers. This he continued until the nails were worn away to the quick and his hands were cut and sticky with blood and dirt.
Finally he stopped from sheer exhaustion. Even his frantic energy was beginning to fail.
Then he heard something like a soft movement above him. He rolled his eyes upward and beheld the roof of the cave directly above him moving the least bit. At first he thought this movement was not actually taking place, but that he imagined it.
Only an instant; then he saw that a part of the roof was settling and seemed about to fall.
He leaped backward to escape from beneath it.
Barely in time.
It fell, and a portion of it hurled him down and caught his feet and legs, pinning him fast.
The torch was extinguished.
At first Del Norte thought the end had come. As he lay with the weight of earth holding his legs fast, he fully expected another mass to follow the first and end his life without delay.
A sudden feeling of indifference came over him, and calmly he waited for the end.
"Come, death!" he urged. "Get it over quickly!"
But no more of the roof fell.
After a little he found himself looking upward into the opening, and far, far away, seemingly miles distant, he imagined he could detect a ray of light.
Lifting the upper part of his body, he began dragging away, with his hands, the earth and stones whichhad fallen on his legs. It did not take him long to clear his feet.
Next he sought for the torch, but it was buried and lost beneath the fallen mass.
This mass had made a great mound almost as high as the roof of the passage.
He crawled upon it and finally succeeded in straightening up in the opening left when it fell. This opening was plenty large enough for his body; he could move his arms freely; and with his outstretched elbows he was able to touch either side.
Standing there, he tipped back his head and looked upward.
His heart gave a fearful throb as if bursting, and through it shot a sharp pain.
It was no fancy, no hallucination of his deranged brain; away up there he could see light!
"If I could climb up there I might escape!" he whispered. "But how can I do it—how?"
With his hands he felt of the rocky sides of the place where he stood. The walls were rough, with many niches and protrusions.
He resolved at once to make the attempt, well knowing it might cause another fall of earth and rocks, which would crush him to death.
He found a niche on one side for one foot and a protruding bit of ledge on the other side for the other foot. He fastened his fingers in a cleft and slowlysucceeded in dragging himself up into the crack, which was now quite wide enough for him to accomplish this.
He felt about and found other cracks and protrusions. Little by little he climbed higher.
Once his foothold gave way and he came near falling. By bracing across the cleft he succeeded in preventing such a calamity.
Then he found the cleft was growing narrower and narrower. It closed in until it threatened to stop him.
He choked as he thought of the possibility. It was the most fearful thing thus almost to get a taste of liberty and then have it denied him.
At last he was checked. For the time being he could force his way no higher.
He felt his strength leaving him. A dizziness came upon him, and he knew he was on the verge of falling. But he maintained his hold and began to feel about. By working his way cautiously some distance along the cleft, he finally came to a point where the walls were wide enough apart for him to slowly drag his body through. Above that point was a narrow ledge, on which he paused to rest.
Still that rift of light was far above his head. Could he ever reach it?
For some time he rested on the ledge, seeking tosummon back all the natural strength he possessed. Finally he resumed his almost superhuman efforts.
Occasionally he paused to look up at the cleft of light. At first it had seemed very narrow, but now it was growing wider. Each time he looked it appeared wider than before.
"I'll reach it!" he told himself, with absolute confidence. "Porfias del Norte still lives, Señor Merriwell, as you shall have good cause to know!"
Now the air seemed sweeter and purer. He realized how stagnant and stifling it had been away down there in the cave of death. He turned his face up to it and drew in deep breaths.
Finally he came to a place where the cleft widened on either hand until it was impossible to mount higher by clinging to opposite sides.
At that point he seemed baffled.
Was it possible he could fail and perish with life and liberty almost in his very grasp?
There was but one course for him to pursue. He would have to abandon the attempt to climb with the assistance of both walls; he must take to one wall and make his way up that in some manner.
A little light came down to him from the opening, enabling him to choose the holds for his feet and hands.
At last he came to another ledge, where he lay at full length and rested, although the fear of slipping from it and falling back through that fissure into theheart of the mountain caused him to suffer intense torture. His fancy led him to imagine himself slipping, sliding, falling, seeking to grasp the walls with his torn hands, but failing utterly and dropping at last into the cave, where he found the dead man laughing at him.
Above the ledge at that point he could creep no farther. He aroused himself and crawled slowly along it. It led him out to a place where the light shone in and the cleft was wide above his head.
"Almost free!" he panted.
Had it not been for his life that he was struggling he could never have made that last ascent. In some mysterious manner he accomplished it, dragging himself at last by the aid of some bushes on the brink over the edge and dropping unconscious on the rocky mountain side.
In a little time the air revived him. He lifted his head and looked around. A cry of joy burst from his lips, and he managed to stagger to his feet. Around him on every side lay the beautiful world, the mountains, the autumn-tinted woods and the blue lakes. Above him was the sapphire sky and the gloriously golden sun, for the night had passed and another day was well advanced. He drew in deep breaths of the clear, sweet air, and his blood leaped in his veins.
Yet a marvelous change had taken place. At the time when he entered that cave his hair was as blackas a raven's wing; now his face was like that of an old man, and his hair was snowy white!
"Free!" he cried. "I have escaped! But how I have suffered! That dog of a gringo, Frank Merriwell, caused it all! He thinks me dead and out of his path forever. I am alive, and I swear to make Merriwell suffer even as I have suffered! I'll not kill him at one blow, but I'll rob him of all he holds dear, his sweetheart, his beauty, his strength, his wealth, and then I will find a way to destroy him at last!
"This is the oath of Porfias del Norte!"
Four men of great power and influence in the financial world had gathered in the offices of Scott & Rand, brokers, New York City.
Of course, old Gripper Scott himself was one of the four. Two more were Sudbury Bragg and Warren Hatch.
The fourth was a slender, smooth-faced, cold-eyed, thin-lipped man of uncertain age, whose name was Basil Jerome. The latter had just appeared, and had been greeted by the others assembled.
It was several days after the landslide that had brought the stirring events in the Adirondack Mountains to a close—events that were directly traceable to the great business consolidation that these capitalists were now discussing.
"Mr. Jerome, gentlemen," said Watson Scott, "has expressed his willingness to come into our railroad project in case he is satisfied that it will be carried through in a manner that will insure success and profit to us all. You have expressed your willingness to take him in if he will enter on the same terms as the rest of us. Mr. Merriwell should be here now, and——"
"He is," said a voice, and Frank Merriwell, himself,entered the office. "I hope I have not kept you waiting, gentlemen. My cab got into a jam on Broadway, and I was delayed full fifteen minutes."
"You are in good season, Merriwell," said Old Gripper. "Let me introduce to you Mr. Basil Jerome, the gentleman I spoke to you about last evening. Jerome has been concerned in the organization of many a big project, and he stands ready to take a corner in the Central Sonora Railroad deal."
"Providing," said Jerome, "that I become satisfied that the deal is to be carried through properly and there are no serious obstructions in its way."
Frank did not like the man's look, nor the cold voice that corresponded so well with his frigid eyes and face.
"Just what do you mean, sir," he questioned, "when you state you are ready to come in if the deal is carried through properly?"
Jerome sat down, and Frank followed his example. They faced each other, and something told Merriwell there was to be a clash between them.
Jerome surveyed Merry from head to feet, taking him all in. Without at once answering the question, he observed:
"You are a very young man to be the promoter of a project of such magnitude."
Frank flushed, for there was something most annoying in the manner and words of the fellow.
"I fail to see what my age has to do with it."
"Youth lacks experience and judgment. It is liable to be flighty and build great projects on moonshine."
"I think you will admit, sir, that Watson Scott is not a man to be dazzled or deceived by moonshine. He is actively concerned in this business."
"Mr. Scott seldom makes mistakes," admitted Jerome.
"Besides," added the youth, "I object to the word 'promoter' as you applied it to me. I am not a promoter. I propose to put a good, round sum of hard cash into the combined fund of the syndicate."
"Oh, you do?"
"Yes, sir."
"Which goes to prove that what I have just said is correct—youth lacks experience and judgment."
Frank was surprised.
"I fail to see how you make that out. If the plan is a promising one, and I am satisfied that the railroad will be a paying venture, why should I not invest my money in it? If I were not confident that it would pay, I'd not be advocating it."
Jerome made a slight gesture.
"No such project can be absolutely assured of success at the outset," he asserted. "It is a great venture, and the men who get in on the ground floor are certain to protect themselves from loss in any case."
Merriwell frowned, a puzzled expression on his face.
"How is that possible?" he asked. "If we are assembled here to organize and build that railroad, how is it possible for us to be protected against loss if the railroad does not prove a paying piece of property?"
A cold smile flitted across the face of Jerome.
"I knew you were inexperienced. Young man, there are several ways of doing it; but undoubtedly the simplest way is to organize a stock company and sell stock to the public. Let the public in general build the railroad, while we reap the profits, if there are any."
"But if the public owns the stock, I fail to see how we can reap the profits if the railroad is a financial success."
Jerome looked with something like pity at the questioning youth.
"It is a simple matter. I will explain it in a few words. To begin with, it is not necessary for us to invest one dollar of our own money in the scheme."
"What? And still we may hold an interest in it?"
"The controlling interest, Mr. Merriwell."
"Go on, sir."
"We will suppose at the start that we organize the Central Sonora Railroad Company and capitalize it for—well, just as an example, let's say ten millions of dollars. Before deciding on this we will have made surveys and estimates that have convinced us beyond question that the road may be built and placed in operation for four millions of dollars."
"Then why should it not be capitalized for four millions?"
"Because that is not business—safe, conservative business. Because that would make it impossible to raise the money needed without ourselves taking chances of great loss. Let me proceed. Having organized in a legal manner, and having issued certificates of stock to the extent of ten millions of dollars, we can next proceed to raise the money required to begin active building operations."
"By placing the stock on the market?"
"Not yet. Every man here, with the possible exception of yourself, Mr. Merriwell, is known to every great banking institution in the country, and his credit is unlimited. At the outset we will take four million dollars' worth of our stock to some institution and secure from it on that stock the full sum required to build the railroad. Thus, you can see, we will not have to put up a dollar of our own money; but we will build the railroad with the money of the general public, which has been deposited at the bank from which we secure it."
"I see," nodded Frank, his eyes shining queerly. "It's a fine little scheme you have, Mr. Jerome!"
"I am letting you into the secret methods of capitalists who build railroads and organize great business projects without using a dollar of their ownmoney," said Jerome. "Having secured our money, we will proceed to put our railroad through."
"We'll build it, and the general public will pay the bills?"
"Exactly. Having it constructed, by successful manipulation—the easiest thing in the world for those who know the trick—we'll unload four million dollars' worth of stock on the public and square ourselves with the bank. At this stage of the game the public will have paid for the railroad, which was built with the public's own money; but we shall still hold six million dollars' worth of stock in that road, or the controlling interest."
Frank felt his blood growing hot within his veins.
"In short," added Jerome, "we take no chances whatever, for at the start we know the road will cost a million less than half the amount for which it is capitalized, we have borrowed the public's money to build it, we are certain we can sell stock enough to pay back every dollar, and still hold control of the railroad, and we are in a position to come out ahead whether the railroad proves to be a paying piece of property or not."
"And this is the way railroads are built?" muttered Merriwell. "But what if we find, after the railroad is put in operation, that it is a losing venture—that it will not pay a dividend on the amount at which it is capitalized, and is running behind?"
"Then it becomes a simple matter for us to step out from under, and as we step out we can take with us in our own pockets a few millions in profits. If we become satisfied that the railroad is a loser, we'll again work the stock market, and, by certain manipulations, boost the price of Central Sonora to the highest possible point. When we are satisfied that we have it up to the top notch, we'll dump every dollar's worth of stock in our possession, pocket our profits, and smile as we see Central Sonora slump and go to the dogs."
"In short," said Frank, "after we have built the railroad with the money of the general public, overcapitalized it in a criminal manner, and discovered that it will not pay a dividend on its watered stock, you propose that we perpetrate another outrage on unsuspecting investors by selling back to the public our holdings of stock that actually belongs to the public anyhow!"
"Your inexperience is again shown by the manner in which you apply the term 'watered' to that stock. Watered stock is new stock issued by a railroad or other corporation that already has a certain amount of stock in existence, but claims that it does not fairly represent, through increase of the value of a property and franchises, the increase of actual capital. We capitalize at the start for more than double the actual cost of building and putting in operation, and therefore our stock may not justly be called watered. Incase this railroad should thrive wonderfully, and should pay wonderful dividends on our ten million dollars' worth of stock, we might then water it by issuing more stock. I hope I have made the whole thing clear to you, Mr. Merriwell."
"You have!" cried Frank. "You have made it clear that what you propose is criminally dishonest, is a gigantic swindle, and that parties concerned in such an outrageous fraud should be amenable to the law and sent to the penitentiary!"
Frank had risen to his feet, his eyes flashing and his whole aspect one of righteous indignation.
Although he had thus pretended, he had not been entirely ignorant of the dishonorable methods of stock jobbers, but he had feigned ignorance in order to draw Basil Jerome out and lead him to fully expose the true inwardness of his reprehensible plan of operation.
Jerome gazed at the indignant youth with a mingling of surprise and pity.
"My dear boy," he said, "you are excited. Don't permit yourself to become so wrought up and to use such violent language. I have simply explained to you the usual method of building railroads, as Mr. Scott and the other gentlemen will attest."
"Then the usual method of building railroads is a rotten and dishonest method!" exclaimed Merry. "Mr. Scott, do you approve of such a scheme?"
"What if I should tell you that I do?" asked Old Gripper, his stolid face calm and unreadable.
"Then here and now I would lose no time in announcing my withdrawal from the project," retorted Merriwell. "I am not a poor man, but did I not possess a dollar in the world, and you were to show me beyond question that I could make five millions as my own share by entering into such a dastardly operation, I would refuse to have anything to do with it."
"Very well," said Jerome, with one of his cold smiles, "it will be a simple matter to leave you out of it. If I have been correctly informed, your principal reason for wishing this railroad constructed is to give you better facilities for handling the production of a mine of yours, located in Eastern Sonora, near the line of the proposed road. Am I right?"
"If you are—what then?"
"We may build the road, and you need have nothing to do with it. The desired result will be obtained, for your mine will have an outlet by rail to the rest of the world, and you will no longer find it necessary to pack ore or bullion hundreds of miles to the nearest railroad shipping point."
"Then you are ready to carry this thing through without me?" asked Frank, holding himself in check.
"If these other gentlemen are ready to take hold of it in the proper manner, they will find me ready to stand with them."
"And the proper manner is the dishonest manner you have just explained to us! Not only do I decline to take a part in such an operation, but I refuse to permit it to be carried out!"
"What?" cried Jerome, surprised out of his icy reserve for once. "I don't think I understand you. You refuse to permit us to carry it out?"
"That is what I said, sir. Evidently you understood me perfectly."
"You refuse?" repeated Jerome.
"Yes, sir."
The man smiled.
"I fail to see what effect that can have on us. To begin with, you are crazy to make such ridiculous talk. Don't you want that railroad? Wouldn't it be of benefit to you?"
"I want the road, and it would be of great benefit to me," confessed Merriwell; "but not even to obtain that benefit and advantage will I permit the road to be constructed in a manner that I regard as criminal from start to finish."
"You talk about not permitting it, young man. In case we decide to build, I don't see how your permission or your refusal will have the slightest effect on us. Will you explain how it can?"
"Yes."
"How? What will you do?"
"I will expose the whole rotten scheme to the public! I will let the public know just how its money is being used for the purpose of defrauding it. I will publish the story from one end of the country to the other. You may borrow four million dollars and give as security the stock of the Central Sonora, but I promise you I'll let daylight into that thing so that the gullible public will decline to buy your stock, and in the end you'll have to make that four millions good out of your own pockets."
Again Jerome surveyed Frank Merriwell from his head to his feet, unable to keep from his cold face a slight expression of wonderment. What sort of a young man was this who not only refused to share in the profits of such a deal, but threatened to stop the whole thing by exposure, even though the construction of the railroad was greatly desired by him and would be of incalculable value to him?
"I confess that you are beyond my comprehension," he said. "It is possible, however, that Mr. Scott may be able to do something with you."
There was a queer look in the eyes of Old Gripper.
"I have found," he said, "that Mr. Merriwell is not easily turned aside once he has determined on any course."
"But you," said Jerome—"you and the other gentlemen present know that the plan I have proposed isthe only safe and conservative way of building this railroad. Here is Mr. Hatch—he has been concerned in similar deals."
"But I have never had as an associate a man like Mr. Merriwell," confessed Warren Hatch, stroking his full beard with his thin hand. "In fact, I think it wholly improbable that the whole of us could turn Merriwell a whit, even if we set about the task in unison."
"Do you mean to admit," asked Jerome, "that you are willing to be governed by this fellow, who is scarcely more than a boy? I can't think it of you!"
"Perhaps we have good reasons," grunted Sudbury Bragg.
Jerome gazed at them each in turn, his show of wonderment increasing.
"And do you mean to say," he questioned, "that you propose to invest your good money in this railroad project of his? Is it possible that men like you, who are familiar with all the methods of pushing through such a project without risk, will let this young fellow inveigle you into jeopardizing yourselves?"
"We have become satisfied," said Scott, "that the scheme promises well, and we are willing to take the risk. Unless you wish to come in and join your money with ours in backing the deal, I think we'll have to get along without you."
"We'll get along without him under any circumstances," said Frank grimly.
"Why——"
"Nothing in this world could induce me to become concerned in any business venture with Mr. Jerome as a partner, for I would be in constant expectation that in some underhand method he would undermine and defraud me."
"You have heard Mr. Merriwell's decision, Jerome," said Watson Scott. "That lets you out."
Jerome's pale face was unusually so as he rose to his feet. His thin lips were pressed together, and his mouth drooped a little at the corners. After a moment of silence, he said:
"Very well, gentlemen; I will depart and leave you to organize. I wish you all the success you deserve to obtain through a wildcat scheme of a simple boy, who knows just about as much about business and business methods as a yellow dog knows about algebra. Good day, gentlemen!"
With a contemptuous movement, he walked out of the office.
As Basil Jerome left the office of Scott & Rand he came face to face with a thickset, florid-faced man and a slender, dark-eyed youth, who had just stepped from the elevator.
"Howdy do, Mr. Jerome! Is it yourself?" said the man, with just the slightest hint of an Irish brogue. "It's a bit glum you're looking. Anything wrong?"
"How do you do, Mr. Hagan," responded Jerome. "Didn't know you were in town. Haven't seen you for months."
"I've been moving around a bit, but I'm back again, large as life and just as natural. Saw you coming out of Old Gripper's den. I'm bound there myself, for I understand there's a little matter going on in which I'm a trifle interested."
"You don't mean that Mexican railroad affair, do you?"
"Why, yes, me boy, that's it; but how did you guess so quick?"
"I was invited to take a hand in that myself, but I prefer to keep out. In the manner they propose to do it, I want none in mine. If you're thinking of butting in, take my advice and stay out."
"As a friend, would you mind telling me why? You have aroused me curiosity."
"If you investigate closely I fancy you'll find out why, Hagan. This youngster, Merriwell, who is promoting the scheme, is altogether too finicky about the manner in which the deal shall be financiered. He's old-fashioned in his ideas of honesty and business methods. How Old Gripper can swallow him is more than I can understand, and Gripper has inveigled Warren Hatch and Sudbury Bragg into it. Keep out, Hagan—keep out."
Hagan laughed.
"Thank ye for the advice," he said; "but I have a little trick of my own to turn with those gentlemen. I'm glad to know I'll find them all ready for me. Don't worry about Bantry Hagan. He seldom gets left. So-long, Jerome."
Hagan passed on, with the dark-eyed youth at his heels, and entered the office of Scott & Rand.
The four men left in the private room were settling down to business when the office boy appeared and announced that Mr. Bantry Hagan wished to speak with Mr. Scott at once on very important business.
Old Gripper seldom betrayed astonishment, but he could not conceal it now. There was likewise indignation in his face and voice as he exclaimed:
"Hagan? That man here? Why, confound hiscast-iron cheek! how dare he show his face in my office! What do you think of him, Merriwell?"
"It's just what I should expect of him," declared Merry. "He has gall enough for a regiment."
"Many thanks for your fine opinion of me," said the voice of Hagan himself, who had boldly followed the boy. "It's you, Mr. Merriwell, I'm wishing to chat with, too, and I'm lucky to find ye here with Mr. Scott. And here are Mr. Bragg and Mr. Hatch! Come right in, Felipe."
The somewhat shy-appearing youth of the dark eyes followed him into the room as he pushed the office boy aside.
By this time Watson Scott was on his feet, his face dark as a storm cloud.
"Bantry Hagan, you scoundrel," he cried, "how dare you show yourself to us!"
"Now, Mr. Scott; don't excite yourself," said the intruder. "You are said to be a man with iron nerves, but your behavior this moment belies your reputation. Why shouldn't I show myself to you?"
"You know well enough, you villain! You know there is a warrant for your arrest now in the hands of the sheriff of Essex County."
"And I also know the sheriff of Essex County is not here to serve it. I further know he never will serve it."
The cool assurance of Hagan was almost staggering.
"It's an easy matter to swear out another warrant here in this city, and Mr. Merriwell is just the man to do it."
"Mr. Merriwell is just the man not to do it. Were he to take so much trouble, what would he prove against me?"
"He could prove that you were concerned in a dastardly attack upon him up in the Adirondacks, being at that time the worthy associate of Porfias del Norte, who came to a well-merited death, together with two other ruffians, by being buried by a landslide."
Hagan grinned.
"It would be easy enough to make such a charge, but quite another matter to prove it. Who could appear as witnesses against me? Could you swear, Mr. Scott, that I had anything whatever to do with this matter of which you speak? No? Well, certain it is that your trusted private secretary, Belmont Bland, will never appear to furnish evidence for any one, nor will O'Toole. It is easy enough to have any man arrested, but proving him guilty is quite another matter."
"It's a shame, Hagan," said Frank, "that you were not in the cave with Del Norte when that landslide occurred."
"That's the way you look at it, me boy," noddedthe Irishman; "but I have a different feeling about it, and I thank the saints that I was spared. I fancy you thought yourself well rid of all your troubles when Del Norte met with that little misfortune, and you're now ready to go ahead with your great railroad scheme. But before you lead these gentlemen into it I have a little revelation to make that may interest them and you a bit."
"Say the word, Merriwell, and I'll have the man kicked out," growled Watson Scott.
"Let's hear his revelation," suggested Frank, "and then he may have the decency to take himself off of his own accord."
"Now you are coming to your senses," chuckled Hagan. "When you have heard what I'm going to tell ye it's in no hurry you'll be to have me go without a little understanding and agreement between us. Porfias del Norte had a plan of his own that bothered you some, for he convinced you that he was the rightful heir of Guerrero del Norte, who years ago had obtained an extensive land grant in Eastern Sonora, and on this land claimed by him your San Pablo Mine is located. Del Norte had parties working in Mexico to obtain a reaffirmation of that old concession. With Del Norte dead and gone I fancy you thought your troubles ended. Me boy, you were wrong. Although you did not know it, old Guerrero was not the only one who obtained concessions in Eastern Sonora."
"What's the man driving at?" growled Scott. "Is he here with another cock-and-bull story about land grants?"
"It's no cock-and-bull story you'll find it," asserted the Irishman. "The grant to old Guerrero, Porfias del Norte's grandfather, was made by President Pedraza in 1832. Am I not right?"
"What if you are?"
"It means a great deal to Mr. Merriwell, as I will demonstrate. I have lately learned that there was an earlier claimant to that same territory. The first Mexican republic was organized in October, 1824, with General Don Felix Fernando Victoria as president. You are quite familiar with Mexican history, Merriwell, me boy. Am I correct in this statement?"
"You are."
"Very well. Now I'm coming to me point. One of General Victoria's chief assistants, and a gallant officer in his army, was Colonel Sebastian Jalisco. As a reward for this man's services, when Victoria became president he granted him a great tract of land in Eastern Sonora, covering practically the same territory as that afterward conceded to Guerrero by Pedraza. This grant of Victoria's was never revoked or annulled, and therefore Jalisco was the rightful claimant to it all the while. Jalisco was ill for many years of a mental derangement, and neither he nor his heirs ever disputed Guerrero's right to the territory. Later, however, as you know, President Santa Anna revoked the Guerrero grant. The one made to Jalisco has never been revoked, and it holds good to-day. It happens that chance has thrown me in with Colonel Jalisco's only surviving heir, his great grandson, and this, gentlemen, is the boy."
Hagan waved one of his square hands toward his dark-eyed companion.
He had thrown a bomb into the meeting, and he smiled to see the havoc it created.
Warren Hatch was on his feet, while Sudbury Bragg had leaned forward on the square table, resting on his elbows, his jaw drooping. Watson Scott grasped both arms of his chair and leaned forward as if to rise, but did not get up.
Of them all Frank Merriwell was the only one who did not seem thunderstruck.
"Who is this boy, Hagan?" he asked.
"The great grandson of Colonel Jalisco, I have told you. His name is Felipe Jalisco, with a whole lot of fancy middle names thrown in."
"We have your word for it, but it takes something more than the mere word of Bantry Hagan to cut any ice."
"Does it, indeed, me lad?"
"It does."
"Then you shall have something more. In fact, Mr.Merriwell, I fancy I can give you all you require. What do you want?"
"Proof."
"Felipe can establish his relationship beyond the doubt of the most skeptical."
"But the old land grant to Felipe's great grandfather——"
"Is in me possession!" cried Bantry Hagan, as he dramatically produced a yellow parchment-like document and waved it triumphantly above his head.
He laughed aloud as he surveyed the men before him, but never a smile came to the dusky face of Felipe Jalisco, his companion.
"Gentlemen," he said, "before you set about building any railroads through that part of Sonora I advise you to transact a little business with me. It will save you lots of trouble later on."
"Will you permit us to examine that document?" asked Frank, still with perfect self-possession.
"On your word of honor as a gentleman—which I know ye are—to return it as soon as you have made the examination."
"You have the pledge," said Merry, stepping forward.
Hagan unhesitatingly handed the document over to Frank, who immediately spread it out upon the table.
The others pressed about Merry to obtain a look at the paper.
"The dashed thing is in Spanish!" gurgled Sudbury Bragg, in disgust.
"Of course it is," nodded Hagan.
"I can't read it," admitted Bragg.
"But I can," said Frank.
He hurriedly yet keenly scanned it through, inspecting the signature and seal, and finally straightened up with it in his hand.
"Gentlemen," he said quietly, "the document seems to be genuine."
"Seems to be?" said Old Gripper. "Then you think there may be a doubt about it?"
"There may be."
"But there isn't!" cried Hagan. "It's all right. Now, Merriwell, me boy, perhaps you'll not disdain to do a bit of business with Bantry Hagan."
Frank refolded the paper and returned it to the Irishman.
"What are you after?" he asked.
"Money, me lad—money. Of course Felipe Jalisco might raise a fuss and make you no end of trouble; but I have talked the matter over with him, and he is willing to surrender his claim to the concession made to his great grandfather in case he is well paid. You are rich, Merriwell; you have been making a fat thing out of your mines, and you can afford to pay. We have settled on a price, and we'll take not a dollar less. Either you'll come to our terms, or we'll cut theground from under yer and leave you nothing but empty air to stand on."
"What is your price?"
"Five hundred thousand dollars!"
"Quite modest!" said Merry sarcastically.
"Will you pay it?"
"Not a dollar of it!"
Hagan was set back, for he had fancied the youth weakening.
"Not a dollar?" he repeated, in astonishment. "Do ye mean it?"
"I always mean what I say."
"But—but you're crazy!"
"I think not."
"It's the devil's own broil ye'll find yourself in if you refuse."
"Then I'm certain to have a lively time, for I utterly and absolutely refuse to give up a dollar."
"You just said the document was genuine."
"I beg your pardon; you misunderstood me."
"I heard you say so!"
"I repeat, you misunderstood me."
"Then what did you say?"
"I said it seemed to be genuine."
"But you doubt if it is?"
"I do."
"How can ye?"
"There are various things which lead me to doubt."
"Will you name them?"
"I don't mind naming some of them."
"Do so."
"In the first place, before investing heavily in the San Pablo Mine, I took the trouble to investigate thoroughly the solidness of my title to the property, knowing how insecure most titles are in Mexico. I overhauled old records and probed into history. I found out all about the grant of President Pedraza to Guerrero del Norte. I found the concession had been reaffirmed by Santa Anna when he first received the presidency, and I afterward found that, later on, because old Guerrero preferred to remain a bandit and a plunderer, Santa Anna had revoked and annulled the grant."
"Well?"
"Well, that left me no doubt whatever in regard to the legality of my title. In all my investigating I found no record of any grant to Colonel Sebastian Jalisco. In all my probing into the history of Mexico and her struggles to rid herself of the Spanish yoke I am certain I found no mention whatever of any such person as Sebastian Jalisco, who held in the patriot army the commission of colonel. In short, Bantry Hagan, I do not believe any such person as Colonel Sebastian Jalisco ever existed!"
As far as Frank Merriwell was concerned, the bomb hurled by Hagan had missed the mark completely.
In spite of himself, Hagan was staggered by the bold stand of the youth that nothing could daunt. Not only was he staggered, he was enraged.
"It is a wonderful knowledge of Mexican history you have, me boy!" he cried. "But you're due to find out that you don't know near as much as you think you do. This poor boy has a claim to property you are holding and working, and as true as me name is Bantry Hagan, I'll see that he gets his rights!"
"Go ahead," said Frank quietly. "It's not the boy you are looking after; it's Hagan, and I can give you my opinion of Hagan in a very few words. From his toes to the hair on his head he is a thoroughbred rascal."
"Your talk is very bold, but you'll come down before we are done with you," snarled the Irishman, in exasperation. "I'll bring you to your knees and have you begging."
"I have no fear of that. You have taken up altogether too much of our time. Will you have the decency to retire and let us go on with our business!"
It was not a request; it was a command.
Hagan's belligerent nature was aroused, and it seemed that he was inclined to remain and create further annoyance. From Frank he turned to the others.
"Gentlemen," he cried, "you have heard our claim and you have seen the document by which we propose to back it up. If you know anything of Bantry Hagan, you know he enjoys a good fight and he sticks to a thing to the bitter end. I propose to stick to this thing. In the end this boy will secure his rights, and Merriwell will not hold one inch of property in Mexico. But let me give you warning that if you attempt to build that railroad you will find yourselves involved in a matter that will cost you more money than you can count in a week. In the end you will meet disaster. Before you go any further, either you or Merriwell must settle with Felipe Jalisco."
Then he stepped toward the Mexican lad, on whose shoulder he placed a hand, observing:
"You have heard, Felipe; the man who is usurping your rights refuses to do you justice, and proposes to continue robbing you."
The black eyes of the boy flashed.
"I will have my rights!" he exclaimed, in good English. "Either he shall pay me or he shall die! I will kill him!"
"Softly, my lad! Don't make such threats before witnesses, for it is bad business."
"It is what I mean!" shouted the boy, who had suddenly grown greatly excited.
He flung off Hagan's hand, and sprang out before Frank.
"You rob me!" he panted. "Pay me—pay me, or I kill you!"
"Better take him away, Hagan," said Merriwell, "orI'll turn him over to the police, which I do not care to do."
"He's dangerous, if he is young," said the Irishman. "I'm afraid you'll be sorry you did not listen to his demand for justice."
"If there were a grain of justice in his demand I would be ready enough to listen," returned Merriwell. "You are behind this business. Having failed in your other project, through the death of Del Norte, your fertile brain has originated this daring, yet foolish, scheme. Do you think you are dealing with children? Did you fancy you could frighten or browbeat me into paying you money before I had thoroughly investigated this Jalisco business and sifted it to the bottom? Why, you know that were you in my place you would not give up a dollar on such a demand. Take him away, Hagan, and be quick about it, or I swear I'll telephone the police and have you both arrested for attempted fraud!"
That Frank was in earnest now there could be no doubt.
"We'll go," nodded Hagan. "Not because we are afraid of the result should you have us arrested; but we know your power—you and the men behind you—and we care not to suffer the humiliation and inconvenience of temporary confinement. The Jaliscos are hot-blooded and revengeful, and you now have one for your bitterest enemy. Take my advice, me boy, andwatch yourself day and night, for you can't tell when Felipe will strike at you."
Then the Irishman grasped his companion by the arm and urged him toward the door.
At the door, ere leaving the office, Felipe turned to glare over his shoulder at Frank, hissing:
"You rob me! I will kill you!"
"The fight has begun, Felipe, me boy," said Hagan, as the two left the brokers' office and stood waiting for the elevator to carry them down to the ground floor. "I knew it would be no easy thing, but it was worth trying."
"I will kill him!" repeated the Mexican lad, in a savage whisper.
"No, no; better not."
"He robs me!"
"But it is not safe to kill in this country."
"Always the Jaliscos kill their enemies."
"If you were to do that in this State it would be the electric chair for yours."
"If they prove not that by me it was done——"
"You were foolish, me lad; you threatened. Besides that, to kill him would be to kill the goose that must lay the golden egg. You can see the folly in that. If you were to kill him, how could you force him to pay you the money you demand?"
"But what is it I am to do? I hate him! He is bold and he does not take the fright."
"Sure he's a hard boy to frighten," nodded the Irishman.
"But I will drive fear into his heart!" hissed Felipe. "He shall soon know that death is near him everywhere. Ah! that is what I will do! I will frighten him until he is glad to pay to escape the death that may strike him any time. I have friends who will stand by me. They are here in this city, and soon I can find them. They will help me to frighten the bold American. We will find a way."
"Perhaps you may, but I have me doubts. Here is the car."
The car stopped, the sliding door rattled, and they stepped in, being swiftly carried to the ground floor, from which they emerged upon lower Broadway.
"A little while ago," said Hagan, "I was in a scheme with Porfias del Norte to bring this Merriwell to his knees and denude him of his Mexican property. He defied us all, but I believe we might have succeeded had Del Norte lived. It was his game to frighten or destroy Merriwell. We followed the fellow up into the Adirondacks, but when I found that Del Norte actually meant to murder Merriwell I declined to remain and be concerned. It was carrying the thing too far for Bantry Hagan. I left and returned to New York. Well for me that I did. As near as I can get at it, Del Norte did capture Merriwell, aided by two other men, and got him into a mountain cave. But just as Del Norte was on the point of putting an end to Merriwell his Indian guide turned on him and helped theprisoner to escape from the cave. Then came a landslide that covered the mouth of that cave with tons of earth and bowlders and buried Del Norte and his comrades in a living tomb. The death they experienced there must have been a horrible one."
He shrugged his thick shoulders at the thought of it.
"Evidently," he went on, "Merriwell congratulated himself on the death of Del Norte, for he fancied that would put an end to all his troubles and he would be able to carry through his great schemes without opposition. He must be a bit disgusted now. He'll find Hagan a stayer. But he has strong backers behind him, and we need some men equally good, Felipe. There's Jerome—Basil Jerome! Just the man! He'll go into anything that promises big, and he knows how to carry any scheme through. He can make dollars grow on elder bushes, that man! His office is round here on Nassau Street. Come along, Felipe, and we'll see if we can find him."
They walked through Wall Street to Nassau, passing the Stock Exchange on their way. Turning up Nassau, they soon came to the building in which Basil Jerome had his office.
Jerome was in, and, on receiving Hagan's name, he agreed to see his visitors at once.
"Sit down," he invited, motioning them to chairs in the private office to which they were admitted. "Didn't expect to see you again, Hagan, in such ahurry. You must have rushed through your business with Old Gripper and his crowd. How did you come out?"
"By the door," answered the Irishman; "and it's little good it did us to go in."
"Did you take my advice as a tip in regard to that railroad deal?"
"It's no advice I needed, for I wasn't thinking of pushing into that."
"There might be money in it if they put her through in the proper manner; but it's Merriwell's idea, I reckon, to capitalize her at her proper value; and that will make it necessary for the men who build to take just as much risk as the general public who buys the stock. It doesn't seem possible that a shrewd old fox like Watson Scott can be dragged into such a dangerous affair. Now, if you and I were doing it, Hagan, we'd do it in a way that would leave us practically without risk, and I think we'd clean up a good thing out of it."
"Why can't we do it?" exclaimed Hagan, as if struck by a sudden thought.
"Why can't we?" questioned Jerome, in some surprise. "Why, that other gang is in it."
"We'll block 'em, me boy! We'll hold their scheme up, and reap the harvest ourselves!"
"How can it be done? Oh, no; I'm not looking for trouble with that bunch. It isn't necessary tobuild railroads in order to make money. There are plenty of roads in existence that can be manipulated and squeezed dry. There is no need to go searching round for new roads to build."
"But there is something more to squeeze in this than a railroad. What if I show you how we can get an interest in a vast tract of land in Eastern Sonora—a tract that is rich in minerals in one section and may be opened up for ranches and plantations in another?"
"Ranches and plantations? I've heard that all of Northern Mexico is barren and arid and practically worthless."
"Much of it is."
"How would you get hold of this land and obtain a railroad land grant from the Mexican government?"
"The grant is already in existence."
Hagan then explained to Jerome as clearly as possible Felipe Jalisco's claim to a great area of land in Sonora.
"The boy is without influence with the government," confessed Hagan, "else he would make application for his rights. Unfortunately, the politics of his family have run in the wrong direction, and he knows he would be turned down if he should try to secure his rights. But he actually owns the very land possessed by Merriwell—the land on which Merriwell's mine is located. And that mine is said to be fabulously rich.He will accept a fair sum as his share of the spoils; the rest we can divide between us."
"There's something in it," nodded Jerome.
"Here is the document," said Hagan, displaying Felipe's paper. "Can you read Spanish?"
"No."
"Well, even Merriwell, who can read Spanish, confessed that it seemed genuine. You see the opportunity, man; come in with us and make a good thing for yourself."
Jerome considered.
"There is no reason why we should attempt to build that road, Hagan," he said. "If you want me as your partner, I believe we can make a big thing out of it without ever constructing a rod of railroad."
"How?"
"Dead easy. We'll form a company, with the avowed purpose of putting the road through. We'll buck the Merriwell crowd just as if we meant business. If we do it in the proper manner, we can jar them some. But it's best to wait a bit until they get started, for it wouldn't do to frighten Scott and the others out before they were fairly under way. We will come down on them like a ton of bricks at the right time. If we scare them so they are on the verge of abandoning the whole deal, it's likely Merriwell will cough up a fancy sum just to have us drop our game and letthem go on. There you are. It's money made on pure bluff."
"Fine enough!" chuckled Hagan, in satisfaction. "I knew I was coming to the right man when I came to you, me boy!"
"What am I to receive?" asked the Mexican lad, who had been listening with deep interest.
"Your share," answered Hagan.
The boy sprang up.
"I have another way!" he exclaimed. "I have the way of my own. Señor Merriwell shall find death creeping at his heels day and night. He shall know it is I, Felipe Jalisco, who threatens him with destruction; but I will take care to keep beyond his reach. He shall know that the only way to escape the peril that follows him is to pay me all I ask."
"We'll have to hold him down, Hagan," whispered Jerome. "The little fool is liable to murder Merriwell and ruin everything."