CHAPTER X.
IN CADE'S CANYON.
The moon had swung far down to the west when the outlaws entered Cade'sCanyon amid the mountains and finally reached an old hut, where theyhalted.
"You must be rather pegged, chief," said one of the men, addressingFrank.
"Well, I am not feeling too frisky," said the boy. "I didn't sleep muchin Elreno jail, for I wanted to be wideawake when the lynchers came."
The men had removed their masks, but their faces were shaded bywide-brimmed hats, and Frank was not able to study their features.However, he had heard the voices of several, and he felt sure he wouldnot forget them.
He was not going to be in a hurry about escaping. There was plenty oftime, and he was beginning to believe that he must be the perfect doubleof Black Harry, else why should these men be thus deceived?
He wondered if none of them would detect the difference when daylightcame.
"If they do--well, I can't be worse off than I was in Elreno jail. I'llhave weapons, and I can fight. I may be able to make it hot for thembefore they down me."
Frank was reckless, and he felt a strange delight in the adventurethrough which he was passing. Somehow, now that he had escaped beinglynched, he believed he would be successful in bringing Black Harry tobook and proving his own innocence.
Frank's first care was to obtain some revolvers, and he was soon inpossession of a pair of fine weapons. With these loaded and ready to hishand, he breathed easier.
Of course he had no idea of sleeping, but he entered the hut and lookedthe place over.
Morning was not far away, and the time soon passed, while Frankpretended to sleep. At daybreak he was astir, and looking the placeover.
The cabin was built in a strange spot, standing close to the verge of achasm that opened down into the lower depths of the canyon, throughwhich ran a stream of water.
Dan Cade, the man who had built the cabin there, was said to have beencrazy. He had lived there years before the opening of Oklahoma tosettlement, and had died there in that wild gorge. His only friends werethe Indians, as he hated and mistrusted his own race.
It had often been remarked by those who passed through the canyon thatno man in his right mind would have built a cabin in such a place. Itlooked as if the building was crouching on the verge of the chasm,preparing to spring headlong into the creek below.
Here the outlaws had camped.
Frank found a flight of stairs that led to the cabin loft. They wereshaky, but he ascended to investigate.
There was a square door, shaped like a window, at the back end of thecabin, and this the boy opened. He thrust his head out, and found he waslooking down the face of the bluff straight into the stream far below.
The light that shone into the loft revealed, to the boy's surprise andwonder, a coil of rope. He examined this, and found a stout clasp-hookat one end. The other end of the rope was made fast to a rafter.
For some time Frank wondered to what use old Cade had put the rope, butit came to him at last.
"With this he drew his water from the stream down there."
This seemed evident, as there was no other apparent means of procuringwater.
The outlaws slept heavily, apparently fatigued by their exertions of thenight. They had left sentinels in both directions, up and down thecanyon, so that they could not be taken by surprise should they befollowed by enemies.
The sun had not risen when Frank went forth into the morning air.
The horses were tethered near the cabin, and a half-blood Indian waswatching them. As Frank approached, the half-blood peered out frombeneath the blanket, which was drawn up over his head. The boy saw thefellow's beady eyes regarding him, and then the blanket was drawncloser, indicating that the Indian was satisfied.
Once more Frank thought that he must be the perfect counterpart of BlackHarry, else he would arouse the suspicion of the fellow who owned thoseeyes.
Frank believed it would be an easy thing to mount one of the horses andride away, as if he was going a short distance. He believed he could doso without being challenged or questioned, and the desire to attempt itwas almost ungovernable.
Then came another thought.
Where could he go?
Surely he could not return to Elreno, for, now that he had been carriedaway by Black Harry's Braves, he was branded in that town as theyouthful outlaw beyond the shadow of a doubt.
He did not know which way to turn, and the thought that his situationwas most remarkable forced itself upon him. If he remained among theoutlaws, they were liable to discover how they had been fooled, and thatwould make them furious. If he escaped and hastened to any of thenearby towns, it was pretty certain that he would be taken for BlackHarry and lynched.
"This is a real jolly scrape!" thought the boy, ruefully. "What can Ido?"
Well might he ask himself the question.
He walked a short distance down the canyon, and thought it over. Theimpulse was on him to get away as soon as possible, but his soberjudgment told him that he would leap from the frying-pan into the fire.
Frank did not care to be lynched. He seemed helpless for the time.Although he longed to fight for his honor, he was unable to strike ablow.
The result of his walk was a determination to stay with the outlaws andkeep up the deception as long as he could.
Black Harry himself must appear sooner or later, and Frank longed to seethe young rascal whom he so much resembled.
Most boys would have improved the opportunity to get away, but Frank wasnot built of ordinary material, and it was like him to do theunexpected.
He strolled back to the cabin, seeming quite at his ease.
It was not far from sunrise, and the men began to stir. Several of themcame out of the hut, and a fire was built.
Of a sudden, from far up the canyon, came the musical blast of a bugle,causing the outlaws to start and look at each other in surprise.
They listened, and it was repeated.
One of the men turned sharply on Frank, hoarsely crying:
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know," replied the boy, at the same time feeling for hisrevolvers, with the idea that there was trouble on hand.
"It is your signal!" burst from the man's lips. "And that meanstrickery! There is something wrong!"
"You're right!" cried several voices.
More of the braves came running out of the cabin, there was a hustlingfor arms, and the men prepared for trouble.
"My signal?" repeated Frank, to himself. "By that he must mean it is thesignal of Black Harry! He is coming!"
Frank felt the blood tingling in his veins.
Black Harry was coming!
"Now," muttered Frank, "I shall have a chance to strike a blow formyself! Let Black Harry come on!"
Frank Merriwell's Bravery Page 10
