Frank Merriwell Down South

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER XLI.

  FACING DEATH.

  Frank Merriwell's blood was aroused, and he did not feel like lettingWade Miller drive him like a hunted dog from the mountains.

  "By this time I should think you would have confidence in my ability totake care of myself against this man Miller," he said, somewhat testily.

  "Yo're ther best fighter I ever saw, but that won't 'mount ter anythingagin' ther power Miller will set on yer. He's pop-ler, is Wade Miller,an' he'll have ther hull maountings ter back him."

  "I shall not run for Miller and all his friends. Right is right, and Ihave as good right here as he."

  "Hang me!" cried Kate, admiringly; "hang me ef I don't like you-uns'pluck. You may find that you'll need a friend afore yo're done withWade. Ef ye do--wal, mebbe Kate Kenyon won't be fur off."

  "Thank you," said Frank. "It is a good thing to know I shall have onefriend in the mountains."

  "Huah!" grunted a voice, and Mrs. Kenyon was seen stolidly standing inthe dusk. "Mebbe you-uns will find my Kate ther best friend ye couldhave. Come, gal, it's time ter g'win."

  So they entered the cabin, and Barney found an opportunity to whisper toFrank:

  "She's a corker, me b'y! an' Oi think she's shtuck on yez. Betther becareful, lad. It's dangerous."

  "Don't worry," returned Frank.

  Shortly after entering the house, Mrs. Kenyon declared she was tired,and intended to go to bed. She apologized for the bed she had to givethe boys, but they assured her that they were accustomed to sleepinganywhere, and that the bed would be a positive luxury.

  "Such slick-tongued chaps I never did see before," declared the oldwoman. "They don't seem stuck up an' lofty, like most city fellers.Really, they make me feel right to home in my own house!"

  She said this in a whimsical way that surprised Frank, who fancied Mrs.Kenyon had no sense of humor.

  Kate bade them good-night, and they retired, which they were glad to do,as they were tired from the tramp of the day.

  Frank was awakened by a sharp shake, and his first thought was ofdanger, but his hand did not reach the revolver he had placed beneaththe pillow, for he felt something cold against his temple, and heard avoice hiss:

  "Be easy, you-uns! Ef ye make a jowl, yo're ter be shot!"

  Barney was awakened at the same time, and the boys found they were inthe clutches of strong men. The little room seemed filled with men, andthe lads instantly realized they were in a bad scrape.

  Through the small window sifted the white moonlight, showing that everyman wore a black, pointed cap and hood, which reached to his shoulders.In this hood arrangement great holes were cut for the eyes, and some hadslits cut for their mouths.

  "The Black Caps!" was the thought that flashed through Frank's mind.

  The revolvers pressed against the heads of the boys kept them fromdefending themselves or making an outcry. They were forced to get up anddress, after which they were passed through the open window, likebundles, their hands having been tied behind them.

  Other black-hooded men were outside, and horses were near at hand.

  "Great Scott!" thought Frank Merriwell. "We are in for it! We shouldhave been ready for them."

  But when he thought how tired they had been, he did not wonder that bothhad slept soundly while the men slipped into the house by the window,which had been readily and noiselessly removed.

  It did not take the men long to get out as they had entered. Then Frankand Barney were placed on horses, being tied there securely, and theparty was soon ready to move.

  They rode away, and the horses' feet gave out no sound, which explainedwhy they had not aroused anybody within the cabin.

  The hoofs of the animals were muffled.

  Frank wondered what Kate Kenyon would think when morning came and shefound her guests gone.

  "She will believe we rose in the night, and ran away. I hate to have herbelieve me a coward."

  Then he fell to wondering what the men would do with himself and Barney.

  "We are harmless travelers. They will not dare to do anything more thanrun us out of this part of the country."

  Although he told himself this, he was far from feeling sure that the menwould do nothing else. He had heard of the desperate deeds perpetratedby the widely known "White Caps," and it was not likely that the BlackCaps were any less desperate and reckless.

  As they were leaving the vicinity of the cabin, one of the horsesneighed loudly, causing the leader of the party to utter an exclamationof anger.

  "Ef that 'rousts ther gal, she's li'bul ter be arter us in a hurry," oneof the men observed.

  The party hurried forward, soon passing from view of the cabin, andentering the shadow that lay blackly in the depths of the valley.

  They rode about a mile, and then they came to a halt at a command fromthe leader, and Frank noticed with alarm that they had stopped beneath alarge tree, with wide-spreading branches.

  "This looks bad for us, old man," he whispered to Barney.

  "Thot's pwhat it does, Frankie," admitted the Irish lad. "Oi falethrouble coming this way."

  The horsemen formed a circle about the captives, moving at a signal fromthe leader, who did not seem inclined to waste words.

  "Brothers o' ther Black Caps," said the leader, "what is ther fatewe-uns gives ter revenues?"

  "Death!"

  Every man in the circle uttered the word, and they spoke all together.It sounded dismal and blood-chilling.

  "Right," bowed the leader. "Now, why are we assembled ter-night?"

  "Ter dispose o' spies," chorused the Black Caps.

  "Where are they?"

  "Thar!"

  Each one of the black-hooded band extended a hand and pointed straightat the captive boys.

  "How shall they be disposed uv?" asked the leader.

  "They shall be hanged," solemnly said the men.

  "Good!" cried the leader, as if well satisfied. "Produce ther rope."

  In a moment one of the men brought forth a rope. This was long enough toserve for both boys, and it was quickly cut in two pieces, whileskillful hands proceeded to form nooses.

  "Frankie," said Barney Mulloy, sadly, "we're done for."

  "It looks that way," Frank was forced to admit.

  "Oi wouldn't moind so much," said the Irish lad, ruefully, "av we couldkick th' booket foighting fer our loives; but it is a bit harrud ter gounder widout a chance to lift a hand."

  "That's right," cried Frank, as he strained fiercely at the cords whichheld his hands behind his back. "It is the death of a criminal, and Iobject to it."

  The leader of the Black Caps rode close to the boys, leaned forward inhis saddle, and hissed in Frank's ear:

  "It's my turn now!"

  "And you mean to murder us?" demanded Frank, passionately.

  "Not murder," answered the man. "We-uns is goin' ter put two revenuesout o' ther way, that's all!"

  "It's murder," cried Frank, in a ringing tone. "You know we are notrevenue spies! Men, we appeal to you. We can prove that we are what weclaim to be--two boys who are tramping through the mountains forpleasure. Will you kill us without giving us a chance to prove ourinnocence?"

  The leader laughed harshly.

  "It's ther same ol' whine," he said. "Ther revenues alwus cry baby whenthey're caught. You-uns can't fool us, an' we ain't got time ter wastewith ye. Git reddy, boys!"

  About the boys' necks the fatal ropes were quickly adjusted.

  "Stop!" Frank commanded. "If you murder us, you will find you have notkilled two friendless boys. We have friends--powerful friends--who willfollow this matter up--who will investigate it. You will be hunted downand punished for the crime. You will not be allowed to escape!"

  Again the leader laughed.

  "Pore fool!" he sneered. "Do you-uns think ye're stronger an' morepo'erful than ther United States Gover'ment? Huah! Ther United Statesloses her spies, an' she can't tell who disposed o' 'em. We won't beworried by all yore friends."

  He made
another movement, and the rope ends were flung over a limb thatwas strong enough to bear both lads.

  Hope was dying within Frank Merriwell's breast. At last he had reachedthe end of his adventurous life, which had been short and turbulent. Hemust die here amid these wild mountains, which flung themselves upagainst the moonlit sky, and the only friend to be with him at the endwas the faithful friend who must die at his side.

  Frank's blood ran cold and sluggish in his veins. The spring night hadseemed warm and sweet, filled with the droning of insects; but now therewas a bitter chill in the air, and the white moonlight seemed to take ona crimson tinge, as of blood.

  The boy's nature rebelled against the thought of meeting death in such amanner. It was spring-time amid the mountains; with him it was thespring-time of life. He had enjoyed the beautiful world, and felt strongand brave to face anything that might come; but this he had not reckonedon, and it was something to cause the stoutest heart to shake.

  Over the eastern mountains, craggy, wild, barren or pine-clad, thegibbous moon swung higher and higher. The heavens were full of stars,and every star seemed to be an eye that was watching to witness theconsummation of the tragedy down there in that little valley, throughwhich Lost Creek flowed on to its unknown destination.

  How still it was!

  The silence was broken by a sound that made every black-hooded man startand listen.

  Sweet and mellow and musical, from afar through the peaceful night, camethe clear notes of a bugle.

  Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar! Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar!

  A fierce exclamation broke from the lips of the leader of the BlackCaps, and he grated:

  "Muriel, by ther livin' gods! He's comin' hyar! Quick, boys--finish thisjob, an' git!"

  "Stop, Wade Miller!" cried Frank, commandingly. "If that is Muriel, waitfor him--let him pronounce our fate. He is the chief of you all, and heshall say if we are revenue spies."

  "Bah! You-uns know too much, fer ye've called my name! That settles ye!Ye must hang anyway, now!"

  Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra-tar!

  From much nearer, came the sound of the bugle, awakening hundreds ofmellow echoes, which were flung from crag to crag till it seemed thatthe mountains were alive with buglers.

  The clatter of a horse's iron-shod feet could be heard, telling that therider was coming like the wind down the valley.

  "Cut free ther feet o' ther pris'ners!" panted the leader of the BlackCaps. "Work quick! Muriel will be here in a few shakes, an' we-uns mustbe done. All ready thar! Up with 'em!"

  The fatal moment had arrived!