HUMAN BEASTS.
It was indeed the little professor, who had, in some unaccountable
manner, fallen captive to the Danites.
How it had happened the boys could not conceive.
"Be jabez! thot bates me!" gurgled Barney Mulloy, his eyes bulging.
"It's hundreds av moiles from here Oi thought th' professor wur this
minute."
"And I thought the same," said Frank. "How it comes that he is here I
cannot understand."
"It's a moighty bad scrape he is in, me b'y."
"That is right. Now I know what Miskel meant when she said my friends
had arrived and were already in the snare."
"The profissor makes but wan, an' she said 'friends.'"
"That is right. She must have meant Clyde and the others. That would
make it appear that the professor came with them."
"Sure."
"In that case, where are Clyde and the two explorers, Graves and Kerney?
Have they been killed already?"
"It moight seem thot way."
"It appears likely; but, if such is the case, I cannot understand why
Professor Scotch was spared."
"No more can Oi, Frankie."
The boys were at their wits' end, and they were in an intensely agitated
frame of mind.
Suddenly Frank clutched Barney's arm, pointing down into the pocket, and
crying:
"Look! look! the professor has broken away! He is running for his life!
But he cannot escape! They are hot after him."
It was true. The little man had made a desperate break for liberty, but
it was folly to do so, as the Danites soon overtook him. One of them, a
stout man, with a short white beard, held a revolver in his hand. He
reversed the weapon, grasping it by the barrel, and struck the professor
down with the butt.
The sight made Frank's blood boil.
"I will remember that wretch!" grated the boy, his eyes glowing. "If we
do not get out of here, I may be able to square a score with him!"
Barney was scarcely less wrought up.
"Poor profissor!" he exclaimed. "It's loikely the divvils will finish
him now."
The Danites stood over the man, who had fallen on his face, and lay in a
huddled heap. They were talking loudly and making excited gestures. It
was plain that they were discussing the advisability of dispatching
Professor Scotch without delay, and, judging from his movements, the man
with the short white beard was for finishing him without delay. Twice
the man pointed his revolver at the prostrate figure, and twice a
younger man seemed to urge him to spare the unlucky man's life.
"If he shoots, I'll try a shot at him from here!" cried Frank. "I may
not be able to reach him, but I'll try it."
A third time the man pointed his revolver at the motionless form of the
man who lay huddled on the ground. This time no one of the group
interfered; all stood back, and the younger man, who had twice saved
Scotch's life, turned away, plainly unwilling to witness the deed.
"He's going to shoot!" panted Frank, pulling forward his rifle, and
bringing it to his shoulder. "I will----"
"Wait a bit, me b'y. Look there! Th' litthle girrul is thrying to save
him."
"God bless her!"
Miskel had rushed into the midst of the men, and she was seen pleading
with the man who seemed determined to kill the professor. At first, it
seemed that she would fail, but she finally prevailed, and the man put
up his weapon, with a gesture of angry impatience. Then he seemed to
give some orders, and the unconscious captive was lifted and carried
toward the camp.
"He is saved for the time," breathed Frank, with relief; "but it is
simply a respite."
"Thot is betther than nothing, me b'y."
"Yes, it is better than nothing. Barney, I have a scheme."
"Spake out, Frankie. Me ears are woide open to-night."
"If they spare Professor Scotch till to-night, we will go down there and
attempt his rescue."
"Oi'm wid yes, me b'y, to th' ind."
They watched the men bear the unfortunate professor into the camp, and
noted carefully the building into which the man was taken.
"We must make no mistake to-night, Barney. It is our duty to do our best
to save Professor Scotch."
"An' we'll do our duty av we nivver do anything ilse, begorra!"
"You are bold lads," said a voice behind them; "but you cannot save him
from Uric Dugan."
They whirled swiftly, and found Old Solitary had come up behind them,
without being heard.
"I found you had awakened," said the strange man; "and I wondered if you
had come here."
"And we wondered where you had gone."
"I went forth to see what I should see," he said, in a peculiar manner.
"Voices far away in empty space were calling to me--calling, calling,
calling!"
The boys shot hasty glances at each other, the same thought flitting
through the minds of both.
They had dealt with one maniac, and now was it possible that they were
to encounter another?
It had been dark when Old Solitary came upon them the night before, and
so they were unable to study his face; but now they saw that his eyes
were restless and filled with a shifting light, while his general
appearance was that of a man deranged.
Quickly leaning toward Barney, Frank whispered:
"He must be humored; don't anger him."
The man, although he could not have heard the words, noted that
something was said, and he cried:
"Why do you whisper together. Would you betray me? Is there no one in
the wide world I can trust?"
"Betray you?" said Frank. "To whom can we betray you? You have us in
your power, and you can betray us to the Danites, if you choose. You
need not fear that we shall betray you."
"Then it must be that you are afraid of me. All the world seems to fear
me. Why is it so? What have I ever done to make men afraid of me?"
"Nothing evil, I am sure."
"And you are right. It cuts me to have men shrink from me; but they do,
and I have become an outcast. There is something wrong about me--I feel
it here."
His hand was lifted to his head, and his face wore a look of deep
distress. He seemed to realize, in an uncertain way, that he was not
quite right in his mind.
"You have lived so much by yourself that you have grown unsocial," said
Frank. "That must be the trouble."
Old Solitary shook his head.
"That is not it. Listen, and I will tell you something. Uric Dugan
hates and fears me. I do not care for that; it gives me satisfaction.
Still I do not know why it gives me satisfaction, for it pains me when
others shrink away in fear. Dugan would kill me if he could, and still
he seems to regard me as one risen from death. Can you tell me why?"
He paused, looking at them in an inquiring way.
"You can't tell," came swiftly from his lips, as Frank was about to
speak. "No one can tell. I do not know myself. My memory is broken into
a thousand fragments. Some things I remember well; some things I do not
remember at all. There was a time when I was young, and I had friends.
Who were my friends? What has happened to rob me of my memory? I believe
Uric Dugan can tell me. If I had not believed so, Dugan should have died
long ago. Scores of times I have held his life in the hollow of my hand.
I have longed to slay him--to kill him for some wrong he has done me. My
hand has been held by a power I could not see. A voice has whispered in
my ear, 'Wait.' I have waited. For what? I do not know."
He bowed his head on his breast, over which flowed his long white beard,
and his attitude was one of intense dejection.
The boys were silent, wondering at the strange man who had befriended
them.
Some moments passed.
"By going forth early I saw many things," the man finally declared,
speaking quietly. "You are not the only ones who have strayed into the
net of the Danites."
"We have been informed there are others," said Frank.
"Informed? How?"
Frank told how Miskel had shot the message into the mouth of the cave.
"I have seen her hundreds of times," slowly spoke Old Solitary. "She
has a good face. It does not seem possible that she is his daughter--the
daughter of Uric Dugan. I think the memory of her face has spared his
life at times. But it will not be ever thus. The time will come when I
shall steel my heart."
"We have just seen the Danites bear a captive into their village, and
that captive is my guardian."
"A small man with reddish hair and beard?"
"Yes."
"I saw him captured. He had wandered from others. From a height I saw
them all."
"How many are there?"
"There were four, but two of them are Danites."
"What's that?"
"It is true. The man of the sandy beard and the boy came here with two
of Uric Dugan's wretched satellites."
"Howly saints!" gasped Barney.
"He must mean the explorers, Graves and Kerney," said Frank.
"They were not explorers; if they said so, they lied. Caleb Kerney is
one of the old band of Danites, as bloodthirsty and relentless as the
worst of them. Colton Graves is the son of Pascal Graves, once a leader
of the Destroying Angels--a man whose hands were dyed with innocent
blood. They went forth, with others, to bring provisions from the
settlements. All of the others have returned before them."
"And they led Walter Clyde and Professor Scotch into this snare!" said
Frank. "They found out that Walter was coming this way to search for the
retreat of the Danites, and they led him here, with the intention of
destroying him."
"Thot's roight, me b'y," nodded Barney.
"Kerney slipped away, and hastened ahead to tell Uric Dugan who was
coming," said Old Solitary, who seemed to know all that had taken
place. "Graves remained to guide the victims to their doom."
"Is it possible such monsters can continue to live and carry on their
murderous work?" exclaimed Frank.
"Some day Ko-pe-tah will find the way in here," laughed Old Solitary.
"Who is Ko-pe-tah?"
"A Navajo chief who hates Uric Dugan, and has tried to kill him. Twice
within two years has Ko-pe-tah brought his braves into these mountains,
searching for some access to this valley. The last time he was here, he
found the passage by which you entered. Four of the Danites held the
passage against a hundred warriors, and the Navajoes were repulsed. But
Ko-pe-tah swore he would come again. If he ever gets in here, woe unto
the Danites!"
"How did it happen that we came through that passage without being
stopped?"
"You were alone, two boys. You were seen, and were allowed to enter, for
they knew you could not escape. They made sure of you by letting you
walk into the trap."
"But Ko-pe-tah was held out."
"Because he had a hundred warriors behind him, and he would destroy the
Danites if he got inside."
This was logical enough, and, at that moment Old Solitary scarcely
seemed like a person deranged.
Frank spent some moments in thought, and then asked:
"Are Clyde and Graves still together?"
"They are."
"And Clyde has no knowledge that Graves is other than what he
represented himself to be?"
"It is not likely that he has."
"He must be warned."
"It is too late.'
"Why?"
"Before you can reach him the Danites will have him in their power."
"That is not certain," cried Frank, starting up. "Come, we will try to
save him. Lead us to him."
"You shall see that what I say is true," said Old Solitary.
He motioned for them to follow, and led the way back along the passage,
the torch having been relighted.
Through the main chamber they passed, and came to another passage, which
finally brought them out far from the mountain pocket in which was the
home of the Danites.
"Look," directed Old Solitary, touching Frank's arm and pointing across
the wide canyon. "Away there you see figures moving amid the rocks. They
are human beings with hearts of beasts. They are Danites, and they are
creeping like panthers upon their victim, the boy you call Walter
Clyde."