CHAPTER XLIII.

SAVED!

"Death!"

From beneath the black hoods sounded the terrible word, as the man

beheld the black card which was exposed to view.

The boys were doomed!

Frank's heart dropped like a stone into the depths of his bosom, but no

sound came from his lips.

Barney Mulloy showed an equal amount of nerve. Indeed, the Irish lad

laughed recklessly as he cried:

"It's nivver a show we had at all, at all, Frankie. Th' snakes had it

fixed fer us all th' toime."

"Hold on thar!"

The words came from Muriel, and the boy chief of the moonshiners made a

spring and a grab, snatching the card from Miller's hand.

"Look hyar!" he cried. "This won't do! Let's give ther critters a fair

show."

"Do you mean ter say they didn't have a fair show?" demanded Wade

Miller, fiercely. "Do you say that I cheated?"

"Not knowin' it," answered Muriel. "But ther draw warn't fair, jes' ther

same."

"Warn't fair!" snarled Miller, furiously. "Why not?"

"Because two cards war drawed!" rang out the voice of the masked youth.

"Look--hyar they be! One is ther ace o' spades, an' ther other is ther

nine o' hearts."

Exclamations of astonishment came from all sides, and a ray of hope shot

into Frank Merriwell's heart.

"Did I draw two cards?" muttered Miller, as if surprised. "Wal, what o'

that? Ther black card war ther one exposed, an' that settles what'll be

done with ther spies."

"It don't settle it!" declared Muriel, promptly. "Them boys is goin' ter

have a squar' show."

It was with the greatest difficulty that Miller held himself in check.

His hands were clinched, and Frank fancied that he longed to spring upon

Muriel.

The boy chief was very cool as he took the pack of cards from the hand

of the man who had held them.

"Release one of the prisoners," was his command. "The cards shall be

shuffled again."

Once more Frank's hands were freed, and again the cards were given him

to shuffle. He mixed them deftly, without saying a word, and gave them

back to Muriel. Then his hands were tied, and he awaited the second

drawing.

"Be careful an' not get two cards this time," warned Muriel as he faced

Miller. "This draw settles ther business fer them-uns."

The cards were given to the man who was to hold them, and Miller stepped

forward to draw.

Again the suspense became great, again the men leaned forward to see the

card that should be pulled from the pack; again the hearts of the

captives stood still.

Miller hesitated. He seemed to feel that the tide had turned against

him. For a moment he was tempted to refuse to draw, and then, with a

muttered exclamation, he pulled a card from the pack and held it up to

view. Then, with a bitter cry of baffled rage, he flung it madly to the

floor.

It was the queen of hearts!

Each man in the room seemed to draw a deep breath. It was plain that

some were disappointed, and some were well satisfied.

"That settles it!" said Muriel, calmly. "They-uns won't be put out o'

ther way ter-night."

"Settles it!" snarled Miller, furious with disappointment. "It war

settled afore! I claim that ther first draw counts."

"An' I claim that it don't," returned the youthful moonshiner, without

lifting his voice in the least. "You-uns all agreed ter ther second

draw, an' that lets them off."

"Oh, you have worked it slick!" grated the disappointed Black Cap. "But

them critters ain't out o' ther maountings yit!"

"By that yer mean--jes' what?"

"They're not liable ter git out alive."

"Ef they-uns is killed, I'll know whar ter look fer ther one as war at

ther bottom o' ther job--an' I'll look!"

Muriel did not bluster, and he did not speak above an ordinary tone, but

it was plain that he meant every word.

"Wal," muttered Miller, "what do ye mean ter do with them critters--turn

'em out, an' let 'em bring ther officers down on us?"

"No. I'm goin' ter keep 'em till they kin be escorted out o' ther

maountings. Thar ain't time ter-night, fer it's gittin' toward mornin'.

Ter-morrer night it can be done."

Miller said no more. He seemed to know it was useless to make further

talk, but Frank and Barney knew that they were not yet out of danger.

The boys seemed as cool as any one in the room, for all of the deadly

peril they had passed through, and Muriel nodded in a satisfied way when

he had looked them over.

"Come," he said, in a low tone, "you-uns will have ter go back ter ther

room whar ye war a bit ago."

They were willing to go back, and it was with no small amount of relief

that they allowed themselves to be escorted to the apartment.

Muriel dismissed the two guards, and then he set the hands of the boys

free.

"Thar ye are," he said. "Yo're all right fer now."

"Thanks to you," bowed Frank. "I want to make an apology."

"Fer what?"

"Suspecting you of double-dealing."

"You-uns did suspect me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It looked that way once. It seemed that you had saved us from being

hanged, but that you intended to finish us here."

"Ef that war my scheme, why did I take ther trouble ter save ye at all?"

"It looked as if you did so to please Miss Kenyon. You had saved us, and

then, if the men disposed of us in the regular manner, you would not be

to blame."

Muriel shook back his long, black hair, and his manner showed that he

was angry. He did not feel at all pleased to know his sincerity had been

doubted.

"Wal," he said, slowly, "ef it hadn't been fer me you-uns would be gone

coons now."

"Begobs! we know thot!" exclaimed Barney.

"You-uns know I saved ye, but ye don't know how I done it."

There was something of bitterness and reproach in the voice of the

youthful moonshiner. He continued:

"I done that fer you I never done before fer no man. I wouldn't a done

it fer myself!"

Frank wondered what the strange youth could mean.

"Do you-uns want ter know what I done?" asked Muriel.

"Yes."

"I cheated."

"Cheated?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"When I snatched ther first card drawn from ther hand o' ther man what

drawed it. It war ther ace o' spades, an' it condemned yer ter die."

"But there were two cards drawn."

"No! Thar war one card drawed, an' that war all!"

"But--but you showed two!"

Muriel nodded.

"That war whar I cheated," he said, simply. "I had ther red card in my

hand ready ter do ther trick ef a black card war drawed. In that way I

knowed I could give yer two shows ter escape death."

The boys were astounded by this revelation, but they did not doubt that

Muriel spoke the truth. His manner showed that he was not telling a

falsehood.

And this strange boy--this remarkable leader of moonshiners--had done

such a thing to save them!

More than ever, they marveled at the fellow.

Once more Muriel's arms were folded over his breast, and he was leaning

gracefully against the door, his eyes watching their faces.

For several moments both boys were stricken dumb with wonder and

surprise. Frank was not a little confused, thinking as he did how he had

misunderstood this mysterious youth. Even now Frank could not understand

him. It seemed most unaccountable that he should do such a thing for two

lads who were utter strangers to him.

A sound like a bitter laugh came from behind the sable mask, and Muriel

flung out one hand, with an impatient gesture.

"I know what you-uns is thinkin' of," declared the young moonshiner. "Ye

wonder why I done so. Wal, I don't jes' know myself, but I promised Kate

ter do my best fer ye."

"You have kept your promise!" cried Frank, "kept it nobly! Muriel, you

may be a moonshiner, you may be the leader of the Black Caps, but I am

proud to know you! I believe you are white all the way through!"

"Thar!" exclaimed the youth, with a show of satisfaction, "that makes me

feel better. But it war Kate as done it, an' she's ther one ter thank;

but it ain't likely you-uns'll ever see her ag'in."

"Then, tell her," said Frank, swiftly, "tell her for us that we are very

thankful--tell her we shall not forget her. I'll never forget her."

Muriel moved uneasily. He seemed about to speak, and then checked

himself.

"You will tell her?" said Frank, appealingly.

"I'll tell her," nodded Muriel, his voice sounding a bit strange. "Is

that all you-uns want me ter tell her?"

"Tell her I would give much to see her again," came swiftly from Frank's

lips. "She's promised to be my friend, and right well has she kept that

promise."

"That's all?" questioned the boy moonshiner.

"That is all."

"Then I'll have ter leave you-uns now. Take it as easy as yer kin.

Breakfast will be brought ter ye, and when another night comes, a guard

will go with yer out o' ther maountings. Good-by."

He was going.

"Wait!" cried Frank. "Will you shake hands before you go?"

He held out a hand, and Muriel seemed to hesitate. After a few moments,

the masked lad shook his head, and, without another word, left the room.

"Begorra!" cried Barney, scratching his head, "thot felly is worse than

Oi thought! Oi don't know so much about him now as Oi did bafore Oi met

him at all, at all!"

The boys were given much food for conversation. They made themselves as

comfortable as possible, and talked over the thrilling events of the

night.

"If Kate Kenyon had not told me that her brother was serving time as a

convict, I should think this Muriel must be her brother," said Frank.

"Av he's not her brither, it's badly shtuck on her he must be, Oi

dunno," observed Barney. "An' av he be shtuck on her, pwhoy don't he git

onter th' collar av thot Miller?"

That was a question Frank could not answer. Finally, when they had tired

of talking, the boys lay down and tried to sleep.

Frank was beginning to doze when his ears seemed to detect a slight

rustling in that very room, and his eyes flew open in a twinkling. He

started up, a cry of wonder surging to his lips, and being smothered

there.

Kate Kenyon stood within ten feet of him!

As Frank started up, the girl swiftly placed a finger on her lips,

warning him to be silent.

Frank sprang to his feet, and Barney Mulloy sat up, rubbing his eyes and

beginning to speak.

"Pwhat's th' matter now, me b'y? Are yez---- Howly shmoke!"

Barney clasped both hands over his mouth, having caught the warning

gestures from Frank and the girl. Still the exclamation had escaped his

lips, although it was not uttered loudly.

Swiftly Kate Kenyon flitted across the room, listening with her ear to

the door to hear any sound beyond. After some moments, she seemed

satisfied that the moonshiners had not been aroused by anything that had

happened within that room, and she came back, standing close to Frank,

and whispering:

"Ef you-uns will trust me, I judge I kin git yer out o' this scrape."

"Trust you!" exclaimed Frank, softly, as he caught her hand. "We have

you to thank for our lives! Kate--your pardon!--Miss Kenyon, how can we

ever repay you?"

"Don't stop ter talk 'bout that now," she said, with chilling

roughness. "Ef you-uns want ter live, an' yer want ter git erway frum

Wade Miller, git reddy ter foller me."

"We are ready."

"Begorra! we're waitin'!"

"But how are we to leave this room? How did you enter?"

She silently pointed to a dark opening in the corner, and they saw that

a small trapdoor was standing open.

"We kin git out that way," she said.

The boys wondered why they had not discovered the door when they

examined the place, but there was no time for investigation.

Kate Kenyon flitted lightly toward the opening. Pausing beside it, she

pointed downward, saying:

"Go ahead; I'll foller and close ther door."

The boys did not hesitate, for they placed perfect confidence in the

girl now. Barney dropped down in advance, and his feet found some rude

stone steps. In a moment he had disappeared, and then Frank followed.

As lightly as a fairy, Kate Kenyon dropped through the opening, closing

the door behind her.

The boys found themselves in absolute darkness, in some sort of a

narrow, underground place, and there they paused, awaiting their guide.

She came in a moment. Her hand touched Frank as she slipped past, and he

caught the perfume of wild flowers. To him she was like a beautiful wild

flower growing in a wilderness of weeds. The touch of their hands was

electric.

"Come."

The boys heard the word, and they moved slowly forward through the

darkness, now and then feeling dank walls on either hand.

For a considerable distance they went on in this way, and then the

passage seemed to widen out, and they felt that they had entered a cave.

"Keep close ter me," directed the girl.

"Here, give me your hands. Now you-uns can't git astray."

At last a strange smell came to their nostrils, seemingly on the wings

of a light breath of air.

"What is that?" asked Frank.

"Ther mill whar ther moonshine is made."

"Oh!"

Now the boys recognized the smell.

Still she led them on through the darkness. Never for a moment did she

hesitate; she seemed to have the eyes of an owl.

All at once they heard the sound of gently running water.

"Is there a stream near?" asked Frank.

"Lost Creek runs through har," answered the girl.

"Lost Creek? Why, we are still underground."

"An' Lost Creek runs underground. Have ye fergot that?"

So the mysterious stream flowed through this cavern, and the cave was

near one of the illicit distilleries.

Frank cared to know no more, for he did not believe it was healthy to

know too much about the makers of moonshine.

It was not long before they approached the mouth of the cave. They saw

the opening before them, and then, of a sudden, a dark figure arose

there--the figure of a man with a gun in his hands!

Frank Merriwell Down South · 第 43 / 46 章