MERRY'S DISCOVERY.
The actions of Tracy seemed strangely suspicious to Merry, who undertook
to watch the man, only to find that Pablo seemed to be watching him
still more closely. Thus it happened that Merry followed the foreman up
the valley and saw him meet another man at a point removed beyond view
of the mine.
The man Tracy met was none other than Hop Anson, readily recognized at a
distance by his bandaged hand.
"Something doing!" muttered Frank, as he crouched behind the rocks and
watched the two. "Tracy wanted to lynch Anson. Now they meet like this,
apparently by appointment. My foreman is playing some sort of a double
game."
This point was settled in Frank's mind. He longed to be near enough to
hear what was passing between the two, but could not reach such a
position without exposing himself.
The men were suspicious that they might be watched. They did not remain
there long. But Frank distinctly saw Anson give Tracy something, which
the latter placed in his pocket. Then the foreman turned back, and Hop
Anson vanished in the opposite direction.
Frank was tempted to step out and confront the foreman, demanding to
know what it meant, but he chose to remain quiet and seek the truth in
another manner. So he let Tracy pass.
But when the foreman had disappeared Merry sprang up and went racing
after Hop Anson, hoping to run the rascal down. He came out where he
could see far along a broad gorge, and there, riding into the distance,
mounted on a good horse, was Anson. Frank knew the folly of trying
further pursuit, so he stood still and watched the vanishing figure.
"I'd like to know just what it was that Hop Anson gave Tracy," he said,
aloud.
Immediately, within less than twenty feet from him, Pablo, the Mexican
boy, arose into view.
"I teel you what eet was," he said. "Eet was monee."
Frank was startled by this sudden appearance of the boy.
"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply.
"Oh, I watch de Tracy man," returned the lad craftily. "I see
something."
"Were you near enough to hear their talk?"
"Just a leetle beet."
"Ha! What was it? What did you hear?"
"De man with hurt hand he geef oder man monee. Oder man take eet. Say
eet not enough. Must have two times more as much before he do something
man with hurt hand want heem to do. Man with hurt hand mad. Eet do no
goode. Oder man say breeng as much more twice over to heem at same
place same time to-morrow."
It is needless to say that this revelation was intensely interesting to
Merriwell.
"Why, Hop Anson has no money!" exclaimed Frank. "Where did he get it? It
must have come from Bill. In that case, an attempt is being made to
bribe my foreman. I have a traitor in the mine, and he means to deliver
me into the hands of the enemy."
"Tracy man he say to man with hurt hand that Pablo, the brother of
Gonchita, ees here."
"So Tracy told Anson that?"
"_Si, senor_."
"Well, I think I need a new foreman--and need him bad! It is about time
for Mr. Tracy to get out!"
"You wait and watch, you ketch heem."
It was arranged that Pablo should return in advance to the mine, in
order that they might not be seen coming in together. So the Mexican boy
strolled back with assumed carelessness.
But it happened that Jim Tracy was watching, and he saw Pablo, whereupon
he hastened to meet the boy.
"Where have you been?" harshly demanded the foreman.
Pablo looked surprised.
"I go to tak' de walk," he said.
"You little liar!" snarled Tracy. "You have been playing the spy! I know
what you have been doing!"
"De spyee--how you mean?"
The Mexican lad seemed very innocent.
"I've seen you sneaking around. Why are you hanging around here, anyhow?
Why don't you get out?"
"Dat none of your busineeze," returned the lad saucily.
"You little runt!" growled Tracy, catching the boy by the shoulder. "Do
you dare talk to me that way?"
"You beeg rufeen!" cried Pablo. "You hurt! Let of me a-go!"
Then he kicked the foreman on the shins. Immediately, with a roar of
rage, Tracy struck Pablo with his fist, knocking the boy down.
Pablo was armed with a pistol, and this weapon he snatched out when he
scrambled to his feet. But Tracy was on hand to clutch him and wrest the
weapon from his grasp.
"You little devil!" grated the man. "I'll cut your throat on the spot!"
There was a terrible look in his eyes as he whipped out a knife and
lifted it.
"Drop that!"
Crack!--the report of a revolver emphasized the command, and the bullet
struck the knife and tore it from the hand of the aroused ruffian.
Frank Merriwell had arrived just in time to save Pablo, who was bent
helplessly backward over Tracy's knee, the hand of the wretch being at
his throat.
Tracy shook his benumbed and quivering hand, releasing the boy and
looking at Frank resentfully.
"Oh, you're not badly hurt!" said Merry, as he strode up. "My lead
struck the knife blade, not your hand. And I seemed to be barely in
time, too."
"Oh, I wasn't going to hurt the kid!" declared Tracy harshly. "I was
going to teach him a lesson, that was all. I wanted to frighten him a
little."
"Well, your behavior looked remarkably bloodthirsty. You seemed on the
point of drawing the knife across his throat. That was enough for me.
You may go, Tracy, but you are to let Pablo alone in the future."
"If he insults me----"
"Report to me; I'll make him apologize. Go."
Tracy seemed to wish to linger to argue over the matter, but the look in
Merriwell's eyes forbade it, and he picked up the knife and slouched
sullenly away.
"I hope he did not hurt you much," said Frank, lifting Pablo's hat to
see the bruise made by the ruffian's fist.
With a cry, the boy grasped his hat and pulled it down upon his head.
But Frank had made a most surprising discovery, and it was enough to
give Merry something to meditate over.
He decided that the boy must be closely watched, and he longed for the
presence of old Joe Crowfoot, than whom no one was more fitted to such a
task.
But the outlaws had averred that old Joe was "food for buzzards," and
the protracted absence of the redskin led Merry to fear that he had
looked into the Indian's beady eyes for the last time.
Frank spoke to no one of his discovery. As far as possible, he kept his
eyes on Pablo, as if he believed the boy meditated treachery of some
sort.
Frank's friends wandered about the place and investigated the mine,
watching operations.
The calm of the valley was most deceptive, and both Ready and Gallup
declared they could not conceive any possible danger lurking near.
Hodge, however, professed to feel a warning in the very peacefulness,
which he declared was the calm before a storm.
Jim Tracy sulked. His treatment by Frank was altogether displeasing to
him, and he felt that he had been humiliated, which caused him to
register a secret vow of vengeance.
Pablo was generally found lingering about Frank's cabin or somewhere
near Merry.
"He knows a good thing when he sees it," said Ready sagely, "and he
means to stick to it. He doesn't seem in any great hurry about rushing
to the rescue of his 'seestar.'"
Frank smiled in a knowing manner, observing:
"Perhaps he has reasons to know that his sister is in no great peril at
present, and he is satisfied to stay here."
"He's a gol dern lazy little beggar!" said Gallup. "An' he oughter hev
to wash his face once in a while."
The evening was cool and agreeable. The sun dropped peacefully behind
the mountains and the shadows gathered deeply in the gorges and canons.
The roar of the stamps sank to silence, and peace lay like a prayer on
the valley.
Frank and his friends sat about the cabin door and chatted of old times.
Sometimes they sang little snatches of the old songs.
And as the darkness deepened a slender, boyish figure lay on his stomach
and wiggled cautiously nearer and nearer, taking the utmost pains not to
be seen.
This eavesdropper was Pablo, and he evinced the greatest interest in all
they were saying; but it was when Frank spoke or sang that he listened
with the utmost attention, keeping perfectly still. Thus it was that the
boy heard Hodge say:
"Merriwell, I'm half-inclined to believe that dirty little Mexican
rascal is a fakir. I suspect him."
"Of what?" asked Frank.
"Of being a spy. He told a slick tale, but I've had time to think it
over, and somehow it seems too thin. Why shouldn't Bill send him here to
play the spy?"
"My dear Bart," said Merry, with a laugh, "what would be Bill's object?
What could the boy do?"
"He might get a chance to put a knife in your back, old man."
"I'll chance it. I do not believe Pablo that bad. I'll trust him."
"Well, I wouldn't trust any greaser."
"I hate you, Senor Hodge!" whispered the listening boy, to himself. "I
hate you; but I lofe Frank Merriwell!"
The miners gathered near their quarters. As far as possible, Frank had
secured miners who were not Mexicans, but there were a few Mexicans
among them.
Among the men were some who were hard characters when they were
drinking, and Merry had taken particular pains to make rules and
regulations to keep liquor away from them.
The morning after the encounter between Pablo and Jim, the foreman,
Frank arose and flung open the door of his cabin, but immediately made
the discovery that a sheet of paper was pinned to the door with a knife.
"Hello!" he exclaimed. "Here's something interesting!"
Gallup came slouching forward, followed by Ready.
"What, ho!" cried Jack, as his eyes fell on the knife and the paper.
"Methinks I see something! Hist! That is what the tragic actor said when
he appeared upon the stage. He crept in and looked around, after which
he said, 'Hist!' And he was hissed."
"By gum!" cried Ephraim. "There's writin' written on it! What does it
say?"
This is what they read written sprawlingly on the sheet of paper that
was pinned to the door by the knife:
"FRANK MERRIWELL: You are hearby giv notis that you are to send
away the boy Pablo instanter. He promised to come to his sister,
and he has not come. You are warned not to keep him. BILL."
Frank looked at the notice and laughed.
"Well," he said, "that is rather interesting. So Bill wants the boy? Why
doesn't he come and take him?"
Hodge came and read the notice, a deep frown on his darkly handsome
face.
"What do you make of it, Merry?" he asked.
"Give us your opinion."
"Nerve."
"Shall we give up the boy?"
Now Bart had not favored Pablo, but at this juncture he grimly declared:
"I'm against it."
"Good!" nodded Merry. "Let Bill come and take him! If the boy's story is
true, it would not be a healthy thing for him to fall into Bill's
hands."
Just as he spoke these words Jim Tracy came around the corner and
appeared on the scene. He halted, appearing surprised, and stared at the
knife and the notice.
"Whatever is it?" he asked.
"Something left there during the night," said Merry. "Read it."
Tracy looked it over.
"Well, Bill sure wants the greaser kid," he said, "an' I reckon you'd
best give the youngster up."
"Why do you reckon that?"
"Cimarron Bill is a heap dangerous."
"He may be," said Merry; "but he has failed thus far to get ahead of me.
I don't like his notice, if this came from him. But I thought you took
pains to have the place guarded at night, Tracy?"
"So I does, sir."
"Then how did Bill or any of his gang manage to creep up here and pin
this to my door?"
"That I can't say, sir."
"I think I'll look after things to-night," said Frank grimly. "If we're
getting careless around here Bill may walk in some night and seize the
mine before we know a thing of what's going to happen."
He jerked the knife from the door, took the paper and placed it in his
pocket, after which he indicated that he was ready to speak with the
foreman, who had some matter of business to discuss.
When Tracy departed Frank sat down and meditated, for he had noticed
something peculiar and remarkable.
There were ink-stains upon the thumb and two of the fingers of Jim
Tracy's right hand.