THE GREATEST PERIL.
"Rufe!"
"Kate!"
He sat up and clasped her in his arms, a look of joy on his face.
It is quite unnecessary to describe the joys of that meeting. The boys
had left brother and sister alone together, and the two remained thus
for nearly an hour, at the end of which time Rufe knew all that had
happened since he was taken from Lost Creek Valley, and Kate had also
been made aware of the perfidy of Wade Miller.
"I judge it is true that bread throwed on ther waters allus comes back,"
said Kate, when the four were together. "Now looker how I helped
you-uns, an' then see how it turned out ter be a right good thing fer
Rufe. He found ye har, an' you-uns hev fed him an' watched while he
slept."
"An' I hev tol' Kate all about Wade Miller," said the fugitive.
"That settles him," declared the girl, with a snap.
Rufe explained.
"Kate says ther officers think I hev gone on over inter ther next cove,
an' they're arter me, all 'ceptin' two what have been left behind.
They'll be back, though, by night."
"But you are all right now, for your friends will be on hand by that
time."
"Yes; Kate will take word ter Muriel, an' he'll hev ther boys ready ter
fight fer me. Ther officers will find it kinder hot in these parts."
"I'd better be goin' now," said the girl. "Ther boys oughter know all
about it soon as possible."
"That's right," agreed Rufe. "This ain't ther best place fer me ter
hide."
"No," declared Kate, suddenly; "an' yer mustn't hide har longer, fer
ther officers may come afore night. I'll take yer ter ther cave. It
won't do fer ther boys ter go thar, but you kin all right. Ther boys is
best off har, fer ther officers wouldn't hurt 'em."
This seemed all right, and it was decided on.
Just as they were on the point of descending, Barney gave a cry, caught
Frank by the arm, and drew him toward a window.
"Look there, me b'y!" exclaimed the Irish lad. "Phwat do yez think av it
now?"
A horseman was coming down the old road that led to the mill. He
bestrode a coal-black horse, and a mask covered his face, while his
long, black hair flowed down on the collar of the coat he wore. He sat
the horse jauntily, riding with a reckless air that seemed to tell of a
daring spirit.
"Great Scott!" exclaimed Frank Merriwell, amazed. "It is Muriel!"
"That's pwhat!" chuckled Barney. "An' it's your trate, me lad."
"I will treat," said Frank, crestfallen. "I am not nearly so smart as I
thought I was."
"Muriel?" cried Kate, dashing to the window. "Where is he?"
She did not hesitate to appear in the window and signal to the dashing
young moonshiner, who returned her salute, and motioned for her to come
out.
"He wants ter see me in er hurry," said the girl. "I sent word ter him
by Dummy that ther boys war har, an' that's how he happened ter turn up.
Come, Rufe, go out with me. Muriel will be glad to see yer."
"And I shall be glad ter see him," declared the escaped convict.
Kate bade the boys remain there, telling them she would call them if
they were wanted, and then, with Rufe following, she hurried down the
stairs, and hastened to meet the boy moonshiner, who had halted on the
bank at some distance from the old mill.
Watching from the window, Frank and Barney saw her hasten up to Muriel,
saw her speak swiftly, although they could not hear her words, saw
Muriel nod and seem to reply quite as swiftly, and then saw the young
leader of the Black Caps shake her hand in a manner that denoted
pleasure and affection.
"Ye're a daisy, Frankie, me b'y," snickered Barney Mulloy; "but fer
wance ye wur badly mishtaken."
"I was all of that," confessed Frank, as if slightly ashamed. "I thought
myself far shrewder than I am."
As they watched, they saw Rufe Kenyon suddenly leap up behind Muriel,
and then the doubly burdened horse swung around and went away at a hot
pace, while Kate came flitting back into the mill.
"The officers are returnin'," she explained. "Muriel will take Rufe whar
thar ain't no chance o' their findin' him. You-uns will have ter stay
har. I have brung ye more fodder, an' I judge you'll git along all
right."
So she left them hurriedly, being greatly excited over the return of her
brother and his danger.
The day passed, and the officers failed to appear in the vicinity of the
mill, although the boys were expecting to see them.
Nor did Wade Miller trouble them.
When night came Frank and Barney grew impatient, for they were far from
pleased with their lot, but they could do nothing but wait.
Two hours after nightfall a form suddenly appeared in the old mill,
rising before the boys like a phantom, although they could not
understand how the fellow came there.
In a flash Frank snatched out a revolver and pointed it at the intruder,
crying, sternly:
"Stand still and give an account of yourself! Who are you, and what do
you want?"
The figure moved into the range of the window, so that the boys could
see him making strange gestures, pointing to his ears, and pressing his
fingers to his lips.
"Steady you!" commanded Frank. "If you don't keep still, I shall shoot.
Answer my question at once."
Still the intruder continued to make those strange gestures, pointing to
his ears, and touching his lips. That he saw Frank's revolver glittering
and feared the boy would shoot was evident, but he still remained
silent.
"Whoy don't th' spalpane spake?" cried Barney. "Is it no tongue he has,
Oi dunno?"
That gave Frank an idea.
"Perhaps he cannot speak, in which case he is the one Kate calls Dummy.
I believe he is the fellow."
It happened that the sign language of mutes was one of Frank's
accomplishments, he having taken it up during his leisure moments. He
passed the revolver to Barney, saying:
"Keep the fellow covered, while I see if I can talk with him."
Frank moved up to the window, held his hands close to the intruder's
face, and spelled:
"You from Kate?"
The man nodded joyfully. He put up his hands and spelled back:
"Kate send me. Come. Horses ready."
Frank interpreted for Barney's benefit, and the Irish lad cried:
"Thin let's be movin'! It's mesilf that's ready ter git out av thase
parruts in a hurry, Oi think."
For a moment Frank hesitated about trusting the mute, and then he
decided that it was the best thing to do, and he signaled that they were
ready.
Dummy led the way from the mill, crossing by the plank, and plunging
into the pine woods.
"He sames to be takin' us back th' woay we came, Frankie," said the
Irish lad, in a low tone.
"That's all right," assured Frank. "He said the horses were waiting for
us. Probably Kate is with them."
The mute flitted along with surprising silence and speed, and they found
it no easy task to follow and keep close enough to see him. Now and then
he looked back to make sure they were close behind.
At last they came to the termination of the pines, and there, in the
deep shadows, they found three horses waiting.
Kate Kenyon was not there.
Frank felt disappointed, for he wished to see the girl before leaving
the mountains forever. He did not like to go away without touching her
hand again, and expressing his sense of gratitude for the last time.
It was his hope that she might join them before they left the mountains.
The horses were saddled and bridled, and the boys were about to mount
when a strange, low cry broke from Dummy's lips.
There was a sudden stir, and an uprising of dark forms on all sides.
Frank tried to snatch out his revolver, but it was too late. He was
seized, disarmed, and crushed to the earth.
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed a hateful voice. "Did you-uns think ye war goin'
ter escape? Wal, yer didn't know Wade Miller very well. I knowed Kate'd
try ter git yer off, an' all I hed ter do war watch her. I didn't waste
my time runnin' round elsewhar."
They were once more in Miller's clutches!
Frank ground his teeth with impotent rage. He blamed himself for falling
into the trap, and still he could not see how he was to blame. Surely he
had been cautious, but fate was against him. He had escaped Miller
twice; but this was the third time, and he feared that it would prove
disastrous.
Barney had not a word to say.
The hands of the captured boys were tied behind their backs, and then
they were forced to march swiftly along in the midst of the Black Caps
that surrounded them.
They were not taken to the cave, but straight to one of the hidden
stills, a little hut that was built against what seemed to be a wall of
solid rock, a great bluff rising against the face of the mountain. Thick
trees concealed the little hut down in the hollow.
Into this hut the boys were marched.
Some crude candles were lighted, and they saw around them the outfit for
making moonshine whiskey.
"Thar!" cried Miller, triumphantly; "you-uns will never go out o' this
place. Ther revernues spotted this still ter-day, but it won't be har
ter-morrer."
He made a signal, and the boys were thrown to the floor, where they were
held helpless, while their feet were bound.
When this job was finished Miller added:
"No, ther revernues won't find this still ter-morrer, fer it will go up
in smoke. Moonshine is good stuff ter burn, an' we'll see how you-uns
like it."
At a word a keg of whiskey was brought to the spot by two men.
"Let 'em try ther stuff," directed Miller.
"Begorra! he's goin' ter fill us up bafore he finishes us!" muttered
Barney Mulloy.
But that was not the intention of the revengeful man.
A plug was knocked from a hole in the end of the keg, and then the
whiskey was poured over the clothing of the boys, wetting them to the
skin.
"Soak 'em!" directed Miller.
The men did not stop pouring till the clothing of the boys was
thoroughly saturated.
"Thar!" said Miller, with a fiendish chuckle, "I reckon you-uns is ready
fer touchin' off, an' ye'll burn like pine knots. Ther way ye'll holler
will make ye heard clean ter ther top o' Black Maounting, an' ther fire
will be seen; but when anybody gits har, you-uns an' this still will be
ashes."
He knelt beside Frank, lighted a match, and applied it to the boy's
whiskey-soaked clothing!