CHAPTER XXX.

FRANK IN SUNK HOLE.

The Great Dipper indicated by its position that the hour was not far

from midnight. Crowfoot halted and pointed downward, where, in the gloom

of a round valley, a few lights twinkled.

"Sunk Hole!" he said.

"At last!" breathed Frank.

The others stood in silence, looking down at those lights. Suddenly they

started, for to their ears came the sound of music, dimly heard because

of the distance.

"Perchance my ears deceive me," said Ready; "but I fancy I hear the

soothing strains of a fiddle."

"Sure as fate!" exclaimed Bart Hodge.

"Listen!" cautioned Merry.

There were other sounds, a sing-song cry at intervals, and then hoarse

laughter and several wild whoops.

"By gum!" exclaimed Gallup. "Saounds jest like one of them air country

dances they uster hev over to Billing's Corners, Varmount. The boys

called them 'hog wrastles.'"

"See," said Merry, "there is one place that seems more brightly lighted

than the others. It's right in the center of the other lights. Fellows,

I believe there is a dance going on down there!"

"Just what I'm beginning to think," said Bart.

"My! my! How nice!" exclaimed Jack. "Let's go right down and get into

it! Balance your partners all! All hands around! Let her sizzle!"

"That would be a splendid place for you to get into a dance!" said Frank

sarcastically.

"But a dance there!" exclaimed Hodge.

"It does seem mighty strange," agreed Frank. "Still something of the

kind is going on. Hear 'em yell!"

And now they could faintly hear the sound of feet keeping time to the

music.

"We've struck this place in a most excellent time to get into it," said

Merry. "I suppose one of us ought to go back and watch the horses."

The horses had been left in a little pocket some distance behind and

they had climbed on foot to the point where they could look down into

the round valley.

"No need watch um now," said Joe. "Um hosses all picket fast. We go down

there, better go quick."

"Correct," agreed Frank. "Just show us how to get down."

"Follow," said the redskin. "Take heap care."

The path over which he led them, if path it may be called, was

precarious enough. At times they felt that they were on the edge of some

precipice, with a great fall lying beneath. But the aged redskin went

forward with surprising swiftness, causing them all to strain every

nerve to keep up with him, and in time he brought them down into the

valley.

"Take lot care," cautioned Crowfoot. "Have guns reddy. No can tell. May

have to use um 'fore git out."

"It's quite likely," said Merry grimly.

So they all made sure that their pistols could be drawn quickly and

readily, and then they crept toward the dark huts, from the windows of

which lights gleamed.

The sounds of fiddling and dancing grew plainer and plainer. Now and

then a shout would awake the echoes.

"Where do they find their 'ladies' for a dance?" asked Hodge

wonderingly.

"Oh, there are a few women in this hole," answered Merry. "Perhaps

others have come in."

They reached the first hut and paused where they could peer along the

street, if such it could be called, for the huts had been built here and

there, so that the road between them zig-zagged like a drunken man.

In the very center of the place was the building, somewhat larger than

its neighbors, from which came the sounds of revelry. Doors and windows

were wide open. The music having stopped, there might be heard a hum of

voices, and then the wild, reckless laugh of a woman floated out upon

the night air.

Frank shuddered a little as he heard the sound, which, to his ears, was

more pitiful and appalling than any cry of distress that could fall from

female lips.

"Poor creature!" he thought. "To what depths has she fallen!"

They went forward again, slipping around a corner, and Merry stumbled

and fell over the body of a man that was lying prone on the ground.

"Hold on!" he whispered. "Let's see what we have here. It's a man, but I

wonder if he is living or dead."

He knelt and felt for the man's heart.

"Living all right," he declared; "but dead in one sense--dead drunk!

Whew! what a vile smell of liquor!"

"Let him lie," said Hodge.

"I have a fancy to take a peep at him," said Frank. "Hold still. I want

a match. I have one."

Bringing out a match, he struck it and shaded it with his hands,

throwing the light on the prostrate man.

The light of the match showed them that the fellow was an unusually

large Mexican, dressed after the custom of his people in somewhat soiled

finery.

"Dead to the world!" sighed Jack Ready softly.

The match died out in Frank's fingers, but Merry did not rise.

"What are you doing?" asked Jack. "Are you accumulating his valuables?"

"Hardly," said Merry. "I'm thinking."

"Can such a thing make you think! What is passing in your massive

brain?"

"I have an idea."

"That's more than Ready ever hed," muttered Gallup.

"Fellows," said Frank, "this man's clothes ought to be a fairly good fit

for me."

"Well, what of it?"

"I'm going to wear them. Get hold here, and we'll carry him aside where

there'll be little chance that any one will stumble upon us. Let's move

lively."

They did as directed, although wondering why Frank should wish to

exchange clothes with the drunken Mexican.

Frank Merriwell's Backers; Or, The Pride of His Friends · 第 30 / 33 章