Frank Merriwell's Bravery

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  FACE TO FACE.

  "Th' saints defind her!" cried Barney.

  "Indians?" panted Frank. "Are you sure?"

  "Wa-al, I reckon! Hyar's ther marks. See them hoof prints thar. Noticethey toe in. Thet is Injun sign."

  "I--I think we had better return to the camp at once," flutteredProfessor Scotch.

  "Not much!" exclaimed Frank, fiercely. "If she has fallen into the handsof those red wretches, we must follow them and rescue her."

  Old Rocks nodded.

  "You talk all right, youngster; but I reckon yer sand would ooze out ona pinch. All ther same, we must foller ther skunks."

  "Go on!" came from Barney. "Begobs! we'll show yez av we've got sand!"

  "But I am not feeling well," protested the professor.

  "Then ye'd better go back," snarled Old Rocks. "You'll be more botherthen good, anyhow."

  "I--I can't go back through the darkness. I should lose my way. You mustaccompany me to the camp."

  "An' waste all thet time? Wa-al, I ruther guess not! Time is toovaluable just now."

  "This is a terrible scrape!" fluttered Scotch. "I expect we'll all bekilled before we get out of it!"

  The guide seemed to hesitate, casting a sidelong look at the professor,as if he longed to get rid of the man in some way, but did not knowhow.

  "I kin do as much erlone as I kin with ther hull o' yer," he finallysaid. "I reckons ye'd best all go back."

  "I guess not!" cried Frank. "I am with you through thick and thin! Youwill remember that I found the child, and she called herself my fairy.It is my duty to help rescue her."

  "Wa-al, I 'lows ye'll stick ter thet," growled Old Rocks; "an' so I'llhev ter take yer erlong."

  "An' Oi'm wid him, begobs!"

  But the guide would not agree to that.

  "Somebody's got ter go back ter camp an' look out fer things," he said."I reckons you an' ther professor is ther ones."

  Barney groaned.

  "Profissor, can't yez go alone?" he asked. "It's nivver a chance have Oihad ter take a hand in a bit av a ruction loately, av ye will except th'chance Oi had th' doay."

  But Professor Scotch had no fancy to return through the darkness to thecamp, and he insisted that Barney should accompany him. The Irish boywas forced to succumb, and he parted from Frank with the utmostreluctance and regret.

  "We have fought an' bled togither," he said, "an' it's harrud to beparruted loike this."

  In a short time Barney and the professor were returning to the camp,while, with Frank Merriwell at his heels, Old Rocks again took up thetrail.

  Frank marveled at the swiftness with which Old Rocks swung over theground.

  Through the timber they made their way, and then through a narrowravine, and four or five miles had been covered before the guide pausedto speak.

  "They're makin' straight fer ther lake," he said. "I don't like that."

  "Why not?"

  "Ef ther p'izen varmints has canoes--wa-al, we won't be liable terfoller 'em farther than ther lake."

  "That is true. We will hope they have no canoes."

  Onward they went once more, Old Rocks having lighted a fresh torch,which left but one remaining.

  The night was on the wane. Already the sounds of the middle night werehushed. The owls had stopped their hooting, and now, on noiseless wing,were making their last hunting rounds before day should come.

  Afar on the side of a mountain a wolf was howling like a dog baying tothe moon. The stars which filled the sky seemed to prophesy of dawn.

  Bending low, now and then swinging his torch to fan it into a strongerflame, Old Rocks almost raced along the trail, while the boy at hisheels kept close.

  They were like two tongueless hounds upon a hot scent.

  And thus they came, at last, to the lake.

  Not a word did Old Rocks say for several minutes, but he moved up anddown the shore, reading the "sign," while his companion waited with thegreatest anxiety.

  At length, with a grated exclamation of rage and dismay, the man flunghimself on the ground.

  "It's jest as I feared," he growled. "Ther onery varmints hed canoes hidhyar, an' we kin trail 'em no farther."

  "Then what can we do?" fluttered the discomfited boy.

  "Northin' but wait fer daylight."

  Now on the still air very faintly was heard a distant tone of music; asweet whistle, at first low, rising and falling, and then graduallybecoming more distinct. It came nearer and nearer till it seemed to fillthe air all about, and then, looking upward, they saw dark formsflitting between them and the stars.

  The wild ducks were flying.

  The musical note passed on, receded, grew fainter and fainter, till, atlast, it died out in the distance.

  From the lake came a far-off trumpet call, and then another--the mellownote of the wild geese.

  The world was awakening; the day was near.

  The stars were growing paler now. In the eastern sky was a bit of gray,which slowly broadened, pushing upward and blotting out the stars.

  Where all before was dark, the morning twilight began to show the blackforms of things.

  The outlines of tree trunks could be seen, and they seemed to stand likeghosts, reaching out shadowy arms, as if feeling their way through thedimness.

  The birds which through the long night had slept in the low bushes werebeginning to chirp and flutter.

  All at once, Old Rocks started and clutched Frank's arm.

  "Listen!" he whispered.

  The sound of footsteps told them some one was approaching.

  "Back!" whispered the guide, leading the way. "We must see who thercritter is, an' he musn't see us."

  Hastily they drew into the deep shadows, holding their rifles ready foruse in case they should need them.

  Nearer and nearer came the footsteps, and then the dark figure of a manappeared, advancing through the dusky darkness.

  The man was alone, and he halted on the shore of the lake, within ashort distance of the crouching man and boy. They saw him bow his headon his breast and stand there in silence.

  Several minutes passed. At last, the unknown lifted his head, stretchedout his arms, and uttered a long, mournful cry that seemed to come froma breaking heart.

  Old Rocks rose and glided swiftly and silently toward the stranger, whodid not hear him approach. The guide's hand dropped on the man'sshoulder, and he said:

  "Hello, Hermit. Whatever be yer doin' hyar?"

  The strange man turned, and Frank saw that it was indeed the Hermit ofthe Yellowstone.

  "Doing?" he said, hoarsely. "I am seeking rest--seeking rest! I'll neverfind it till I rest in the grave!"

  "You must hev a derned bad liver, or somethin' o' ther sort," sneeredOld Rocks. "I don't understand a critter like you none whatever."

  "I do not expect you to understand me. You do not know my story. If Iwere to tell you----"

  "We ain't got time ter listen; but I'll tell you a leetle story. Youknow ther babby-gal whut yer saw at our camp?"

  The hermit bowed, and then, as if a suspicion of the truth had flashedover him, he fiercely grasped the guide with both hands, hoarselydemanding:

  "Has anything happened to her? Tell me--tell me quick!"

  With a few well-chosen words, Old Rocks told exactly what had happened.The hermit seemed overcome with horror and dismay.

  "She must be saved!"

  "You're right; but how wuz we ter foller ther red varmints 'thout acanoe. Now they hev got clean away."

  "I will find her!" cried the hermit, with one hand uplifted, as ifregistering a vow. "I will find her and restore her to--hold! How didshe happen to be with you?"

  A further explanation was in order. Frank told how Fay had appeared intime to save himself and Barney from being attacked by Half Hand and theBlackfeet, what she had told them, how they had taken her to the camp,and how Old Rocks had agreed to find her mother with the coming ofanother day.

  The guide and the boy believ
ed the Hermit must be little Fay's father,and they watched him closely as he listened. When Frank had finished,the strange man eagerly asked:

  "Her name--her full name--did you learn it?"

  "No. She told us her name was Fay, and that her mother sometimes calledher Fairy Fay; but we were unable to learn her last name."

  "From whut we saw in ther camp, we allowed as how it wuz likely you hedseen ther babby afore, an' you knowed her proper name," insinuated OldRocks.

  The Hermit did not answer the implied question.

  "Come," he said, "follow me. I have a canoe."

  "I s'pose we can't do any wuss," mumbled Old Rocks; "though I don'tprezactly know how we're goin' ter trail them critters through therwarter."

  The Hermit moved along at a swinging stride, and they followed himthrough the morning twilight.

  Less than half a mile had been covered when the man in advance suddenlypaused, uttering an exclamation of surprise.

  Straight ahead, amid the trees of a little grove on the shore, theybeheld the snowy outlines of a tent.

  In a little park beyond the camp could be seen the dusky outlines ofhorses feeding. Close to the open flap of the tent two dogs were curled,both sleeping soundly, so silent had been the approach of the trio.

  The light in the eastern sky was getting a pink tinge, and, with eachpassing moment, objects could be seen more distinctly.

  A tiny column of blue smoke rose from the white ashes of the camp-fire,telling that a brand still smoldered there.

  There was a stir within the tent. There were muffled grunts, a yawn ortwo, the rustle of clothing, faint sounds of footsteps, and then theflap of the tent was flung wide open, and a man came out into themorning air. He paused and stretched his limbs, standing so the trioobtained a fair view of him.

  With a sudden, hoarse cry, the Hermit rushed forward and confronted theman.

  "Foster Fairfax!" he shouted, with savage joy; "at last we are face toface!"