Frank Merriwell's Triumph: or, The Disappearance of Felicia

“It will cost a huge sum to open this mine and operate it.”

“There is no question on that point.”

“Still, this report shows it will be worth it, if the vein pans out to be one-half as promising as this assay of your specimens.”

Merry laughed.

“Mr. Kensington,” he said, “it is my belief that we have not fully uncovered the vein. It is my conviction that it will prove twice as valuable as it now seems when we get into it in earnest.”

For some moments Kensington continued to whistle softly to himself. It seemed to be a habit of his when thinking.

“Are your other mines valuable, Mr. Merriwell?”

“Yes, sir.”

“As valuable as this one?”

“I believe they are.”

“And you have them in operation?”

“I have one of them in operation.”

“That is the Queen Mystery, I believe?”

“Then you have heard of it, sir?”

“There is not much going on in mining matters in Arizona that I have not heard of. It’s my business to keep posted. You have never thought of selling the Queen Mystery?”

“Mr. Kensington, the Mystery is opened and is in operation. I have not contemplated selling it, and I do not think I shall do so. If you wish to talk of this new mine, all right. I can listen. Nothing whatever may come of it, but I see no harm in hearing whatever you have to say.”

“Now we’re getting at an understanding, Mr. Merriwell. Of course, I wouldn’t think of making you any sort of an offer for your mine unless thoroughly satisfied as to its value. I should insist on having it inspected by men of my own choice, who are experts. Their report I can rely on, and from that I would figure.”

“That would be business-like,” Merry nodded.

“And you would have no objections to that, of course?”

“Certainly not, sir. Still, you must not forget that I have a partner who might object. It will be necessary to consult him before anything of the sort is done.”

“All right, all right. Where is he?”

“He is at the mine.”

Kensington seemed somewhat disappointed.

“I was in hopes he might be in Prescott.”

“He is not.”

“Another point, Mr. Merriwell. Are you certain your title to this property is clear?”

“Absolutely certain, sir.”

“I am glad to hear that. Of course, I should look into that matter likewise. Unless the title was clear, I wouldn’t care to become involved.”

“In that case,” said a voice behind them, which caused them both to start slightly, “I advise you, Mr. Kensington, to let that property alone.”

Merriwell turned quickly and found himself face to face with Macklyn Morgan!

“Morgan!” exclaimed Frank.

To the ministerial face of the money king there came a smile of grim satisfaction, for he knew he had startled Frank.

“Yes, Mr. Kensington,” he said, “you had better be careful about this piece of business. There are some doubts as to the validity of this young man’s claim to that mine.”

Kensington did not seem pleased, and immediately he demanded:

“How do you happen to know so much about it, sir?”

“Because I am interested. My name is Macklyn Morgan. It is barely possible you have heard of me?”

“Macklyn Morgan!” exclaimed Thomas Kensington. “Why, not – why, not – ”

“Exactly,” nodded Morgan. “I belong to the Consolidated Mining Association of America. You may know something of that association; it’s quite probable that you do.”

“I should say so!” exclaimed Kensington, rather warmly. “I know that it’s a trust and that it has been gobbling up some of the best mines in the country.”

“Very well. You know, then, that the C. M. A. of A. makes few mistakes. As a member of that association I warn you now that you may involve yourself in difficulty if you negotiate with this young man for this mine which he claims.”

Frank rose to his feet, his eyes flashing with indignation.

“That will about do for you, Morgan!” he exclaimed. “I think I have stood about as much from you as I am in the mood to stand. Mr. Kensington, this man does belong to the Consolidated Mining Association. That association attempted to get possession of my Queen Mystery and San Pablo mines. I fought the whole bunch of them to a standstill and made them back water. They have given up the fight. But after they did so this Mr. Morgan, in conjunction with another one of the trust, did his level best to wring the Queen Mystery from me.

“The matter was finally settled right here in the courts. They were beaten. It was shown that their claims to my property were not worth a pinch of snuff. Since then Sukes, this man’s partner, met his just deserts, being shot by one of his tools, a half-crazed fellow whom he led into an infamous piece of business. This Morgan is persistent and vengeful. He has trumped up some silly charge against me and tried to frighten me into giving up to him my Queen Mystery or my new mine. It is a pure case of bluff on his part, and it has no further effect on me than to annoy me.”

Both Kensington and Morgan had listened while Frank was speaking, the latter with a hard smile on his face.

“You can judge, Mr. Kensington,” said Morgan, “whether a man of my reputation would be the sort to take part in anything of that kind. When it comes to bluff, this young fellow here is the limit. I tell you once more that you will make a serious mistake if you have any dealings with him. Any day he is likely to be arrested on the charge of murder, for there is evidence that he conspired in the assassination of my partner. It even seems possible that he fired the fatal shot. That’s the kind of a chap he is.”

“Mr. Kensington,” said Frank, with grim calmness, “this man, Morgan, has done his level best in trying to blackmail me out of one of my mines. This murder charge he talks about he has trumped up in hopes to frighten me; but I fancy he has found by this time that I am not so easily frightened. I can prove that he employed ruffians to jump my claim – to seize these new mines. We were forced to defend it with firearms. Morgan himself tried to have me treacherously shot, but he was not the kind of a man to deal with the ruffians he had employed, and he fell into a trap, from which he has now somehow escaped. He was captured and carried off by those same ruffians of his, whose object it was to hold him until he should pay a handsome sum for his liberty. Either he has managed to escape or he has paid the money demanded by those rascals.”

Morgan laughed.

“It is not possible, Mr. Kensington, that you will believe such a ridiculous story. I give you my word – the word of a gentleman and a man of business and honor – that the whole thing is a fabrication.”

“Morgan,” said Frank, “I propose to make this statement public just as you have heard it from my lips. If it is not true, you can have me arrested immediately for criminal libel. I dare you to have me arrested! If you do, I shall prove every word of what I have just said and show you up as the black-hearted rascal you really are. Instead of having me arrested, it is more than likely that you will employ some ruffian to shoot at my back. I’ll guarantee you will never try it yourself. If I were to step out here now and make a similar charge against Mr. Kensington, what would be the result?”

“By thunder!” burst from Kensington, “I’d shoot you on sight!”

“Exactly,” nodded Frank. “And so would Macklyn Morgan if the statement were false and if he dared.”

Morgan snapped his fingers.

“I consider you of too little consequence to resort to any such method. I am not a man who shoots; I’m a man who crushes. Frank Merriwell, you may fancy you have the best of me, but I tell you now that I will crush you like an eggshell.”

As he said this his usually mild and benevolent face was transformed until it took on a fierce and vengeful look, which fully betrayed his true character. Quickly lifting his hand, Merry pointed an accusing finger straight at Morgan’s face.

“Look at him, Mr. Kensington!” he directed. “Now you see him as he is beneath the surface. This is the real Macklyn Morgan. Ordinarily he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and it is only the clothing he reveals to those with whom he has dealings.”

Instantly the look vanished from Morgan’s face, and in its place there returned the mild, hypocritical smile he sometimes wore.

“I acknowledge that my indignation was aroused,” he said. “And I know it was foolish of me. I have said all I care to. I think Mr. Kensington will have a care about making any negotiations with you, Merriwell. Good day, Mr. Kensington.”

Bowing to Frank’s companion, Morgan coolly walked away and left the room.

CHAPTER XXIV.

WHAT HAPPENED TO DICK

Just at dusk a horse came galloping madly up toward the front of the hotel, bearing on its back an excited, frightened, pale-faced girl. It was Felicia. Brad Buckhart happened to be leaving the hotel as the girl pulled up her sweaty horse.

“Oh, Brad!” she cried, and her voice was filled with the greatest agitation and distress.

The Texan made a bound down the steps.

“What is it, Felicia?” he asked. “Whatever is the matter? My pard – he went out to ride with you! Where is he now?”

“Oh, where is he? Oh, where is he?” cried Felicia.

“You don’t know? Is that what you mean? Oh, say, Felicia, don’t tell me anything has happened to my pard!”

“Brad! Brad!” she gasped, swaying in her saddle, “a strange thing has happened. I can’t account for it.”

In a moment he lifted her down in his strong arms and supported her, as he tumultuously poured questions upon her.

“What’s this strange thing, Felicia? What has happened? Where is Dick? Tell me, quick!”

“Oh, I wish you could tell me!” she retorted.

“He went out with you?”

“Yes, yes!”

The Texan made an effort to cool down.

“Look here, Felicia,” he said. “We’re both so excited we don’t hit any sort of a trail and stick to it for shucks. If anything whatever has happened to my pard, I want to know it right quick. Keep cool and tell me all about it. What was it that happened?”

“But I tell you I don’t know – I don’t know,” came faintly from the girl. “We rode some miles to the south. It was splendid. We laughed, and chatted, and had such a fine time. Then, when we turned to come back, I challenged Dick to a race. My horse was just eager to let himself out, and we raced. I had the lead, but my horse was so hard-bitted that I couldn’t look back. Two or three times I called to Dick, and he answered. I heard his horse right behind me, and felt sure he was near. Once I thought he was trying to pass me, and I let my horse out more.

“I don’t know how far I went that way, but it was a long, long distance. After a while his horse seemed letting up. He didn’t push him so hard. Then I pulled up some and called back to him again, but he didn’t answer. I had to fight my horse, for he had the bit in his teeth and was obstinate. After a while I managed to turn, and then I saw something that gave me an awful jump. Dick’s horse was a long distance away, and was going at a trot, but Dick was not in the saddle. The saddle was empty, and Dick was nowhere to be seen.”

“Great tarantulas! Great horned toads! Great Panhandle!” exploded Buckhart. “You don’t mean to tell me that my pard let any onery horse dump him out of the saddle? Say, I won’t believe it! Say, I can’t believe it! Why, he can ride like a circus performer! He is a regular centaur, if I ever saw one! Whatever is this joke you’re putting up on me, Felicia?”

“No joke, no joke!” she hastily asserted. “It’s the truth, Brad – the terrible truth! Dick was not on the horse. I don’t know what happened to him, but he wasn’t there. As soon as I could I rode back to find him. I rode and rode, looking for him everywhere. I thought something must have happened to him that caused him to fall from the saddle. I wondered that I had heard no cry from him – no sound.”

“And you didn’t find him?”

She shook her head.

“I found nothing of him anywhere. I rode until I was where we started to race. After that I had called to him, and he had answered me more than once. I know that, at first, he was close behind me.”

“Jumping jingoes!” spluttered Brad. “This beats anything up to date! You hear me warble! You must have missed him, somehow.”

“It is not possible, Brad. I stuck to the road and followed it all the way through the chaparral, beyond which we had started to race this way.”

“Then you raced through a piece of woods, did you?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Do you remember of hearing him answer any to your calls after you had passed through those woods?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Oh, Brad, what if he was thrown from his horse and some wild animal dragged him into the chaparral after he fell senseless on the road! You must find him! Where is Frank? Tell Frank at once!”

“That’s good sense,” declared the Texan. “But wherever is Dick’s horse?”

“I don’t know where the animal is now. I paid no further attention to it after I found Dick was missing.”

By this time the Texan had heard enough, and, lifting Felicia clear off her feet, he strode into the hotel with her, as if carrying a feather. Just inside the door he nearly collided with Cap’n Wiley.

“Port your helm!” exclaimed the sailor. “Don’t run me down, even if you are overloaded with the finest cargo I ever clapped my eyes on.”

“Hold on, Wiley!” commanded Brad. “Just you drop anchor where you are. I want you.”

“Ay, ay, sir!” retorted the marine. “I will lay to instantly. Ever hear the little story about the captain who ran out of provisions and, getting hard up, decided to have eggs for breakfast and made his ship lay two?”

“Cut your chestnuts out, now!” growled the Texan. “Where is Frank?”

“I last saw his royal nibs in close communion with a gentleman who is literally rotten with money.”

“Not Macklyn Morgan?”

“Well, hardly. He is not chumming with old Mack to any salubrious degree. It was Thomas Kensington.”

“Do you know where Frank is now? If you do, find him instantly and tell him something has happened to Dick.”

“Ay! ay!” again cried Wiley. “Just you bear off and on right where you are, and I will sight him directly and bring him round on this course.”

The sailor hurried away, leaving Brad to question Felicia still further about the road they had taken outside of Prescott.

Fortunately Frank was easily found, and Wiley came hurrying back with him.

“What is it, Brad?” asked Merry, controlling his nerves and betraying little alarm, for all that he saw by the appearance of Felicia that some serious thing had occurred.

“Oh, Frank – Dick!” she panted. “You must find him – you must!”

The Texan quickly told Merry what had happened as related by Felicia.

Frank’s face grew grim and paled a little – a very little. His jaw hardened, and his eyes took on a strange gleam.

“I opine I know just the road they took,” said Buckhart. “She has told me all about it. I am dead certain I can go straight back over that trail.”

“Wiley,” said Merry, still with that grim command of himself, “get a move on and have some horses saddled and made ready.”

“Leave it to me,” cried the sailor, immediately taking to his heels and dusting away.

By this time others in the hotel knew what had happened, and a number of people had gathered around. Unmindful of them, Frank took Felicia on his knee as he sat on a chair and questioned her.

“Oh, Frank!” she suddenly sobbed, clasping him about the neck. “You will find Dick, won’t you?”

“As sure as I am living, Felicia,” he asserted, with that same confident calmness. “Don’t you doubt it for a moment, dear. Rest easy about that.”

“You don’t think some wild animal has got him?”

“I hardly fancy anything of that sort has happened to my brother.”

Merry called for the housekeeper, who soon came and he turned Felicia over to her, saying:

“Look out for her, Mrs. Jones. Take care of her and don’t let her worry more than can be helped.”

“Lord love her sweet soul!” exclaimed the housekeeper, as she received the agitated girl from Frank and patted and petted her. “I will look after her, Mr. Merriwell. Don’t you be afraid of that. There, there, dear,” she said, softly stroking Felicia’s cheek. “Don’t you take on so. Why, they will find your cousin all right.”

“You bet your boots!” muttered Brad Buckhart, who was examining a long-barreled revolver as he spoke. “We will hit the trail and find him in less than two shakes of a steer’s hoof.”

Wiley now came panting back into the room, struck an attitude, and made a salute.

“Our land-going craft are at the pier outside.”

Frank paused only to kiss Felicia and whisper a last word in her ear. As he turned to leave the room, he came face to face with Macklyn Morgan near the door.

Morgan looked at him in a singular manner and smiled.

“Excuse me, sir. You seem to be in a great hurry about something.”

Merry stopped short and stood looking straight into the eyes of his enemy.

“What is your next low trick, Morgan?” he said. “Let me tell you here and now, and don’t forget it for an instant, if ever any harm comes to me or mine through you, you’ll rue it to the last moment of your miserable life.”

With which he strode on out of the hotel.

Away out of Prescott they clattered, and away into the gathering darkness of a soft spring night. The cool breeze rushed past their ears and fanned their hot cheeks. Frank was in the lead, for Wiley had taken pains to see that Merriwell’s own fine horse was made ready for him.

“Is this the road, Buckhart?” the young mine owner called back. “This is the one Felicia told us to take, isn’t it?”

“Sure as shooting!” answered the Texan.

“We don’t want to make any mistake in our course,” put in the sailor. “That would be fatal to the aspirations of our agitated anatomy. At the same time we want to keep our optical vision clear for breakers ahead. We may be due to strike troubled waters before long.”

“That’s what we’re looking for!” growled Buckhart, who seemed hot for trouble of some sort.

Onward they rode along the brown trail. Beneath them the ground seemed speeding backward. The lights of the town twinkled far behind them. Frank’s keen eyes detected something that caused him to drop rein and swerve from the road. At a short distance from the trail a horse was grazing. This animal shied somewhat and moved away as Merry approached, but Frank’s skill enabled him, after a little, to capture the creature, which proved to be saddled and bridled.

“Dick’s horse,” he said. “Hold him, Buckhart. I want to make an examination.”

Brad took the creature by the head, and a moment later Frank struck a match, which he protected in the hollow of his hand until it was in full blaze. He then examined the saddle and the creature’s back. Several matches were used for this purpose, while both Buckhart and Wiley waited anxiously for the result.

“What behold you, mate?” inquired the sailor.

“Nothing,” answered Frank. And it seemed there was relief in his voice.

“Whatever did you expect to find?” questioned the Texan.

“I hoped to find nothing, just as I have,” was the answer. “Still, I thought it possible there might be blood stains on the horse. It is not likely there would be hostile savages in this vicinity. Indeed, such a thing is almost improbable; yet it was my fancy that Dick might have been silently shot from his saddle.”

“How silently?” asked Brad. “Shooting is pretty certain to be heard, I opine.”

“Not if done with an arrow.”

“But the Injun of this day and generation is generally provided with a different weapon.”

“That’s true; but still some of them use the bow and arrow even to-day.”

“I don’t reckon a whole lot on anything of that sort happening to my pard,” asserted the Texan.

“Nor I,” admitted Frank. “But I thought it best to investigate.”

The horse was again set at liberty. They had no time to bother with it then. Once more they found the trail and rode on.

Before them loomed the dark chaparral, into which wound the road they followed. On either hand the tangled thicket was dark and grim.

“A right nasty place for a hold-up!” muttered Buckhart, whose hand was on his pistol.

“If any one tries that little trick,” observed Cap’n Wiley, “it’s my sagacious opinion that they are due to receive a surprise that will disturb their mental condition and throw their quivering nerves into the utmost agitation. I am ready to keep the air full of bullets, for in that way something will surely be hit. Reminds me of the time when I went gunning with Johnny Johnson. We came to a promising strip of forest, and he took one side and I took the other. Pretty soon I heard him banging away, and he kept shooting and shooting until I grew black in the face with envy. I reckoned he was bagging all the game in that preserve. In my seething imagination I saw him with partridges, and woodcock, and other things piled up around him knee-deep.

“For just about an hour he kept on shooting regular every few seconds. At last I came to him, for I didn’t find a single measly thing to pop at. Imagine my astonishment when I found him idly reclining in a comfortable position on the ground and firing at intervals into the air. ‘John, old man,’ says I, ‘what are you doing?’ ‘Wiley,’ he answered, ‘I am out for game. I haven’t been able to find any, but I know where there is some in this vicinity. I arrived at the specific conclusion that if I could keep the air full of shot I’d hit something after a while, and so I am carrying my wise plan into execution.’ Oh, I tell you, John was a great hunter – a great hunter!”

“Better cut that out,” said Frank. “This is a first-class time for you to give your wagging jaw a rest, cap’n.”

“Thanks, mate; your suggestion will be appropriated unto me.”

Through the chaparral they went, their eyes searching the trail and noting every dark spot on the ground. At length they came to the farther border of the thicket, but without making any discovery.

“Here’s where Felicia said the race began,” said Brad. “We haven’t found a thing, Frank – not a thing.”

Still Merry led them on a little farther before halting and turning about.

“What’s to be done now?” anxiously inquired the Texan.

“We will follow the trail back through the chaparral,” said Frank. “We will call to Dick. That’s the only thing it seems possible for us to do.”

Having decided on this, they rode slowly back; calling at intervals to the missing lad. The thick chaparral rang with their voices, but through it came no answer. The cold stars watched them in silence. By the time they had again debouched from the chaparral Brad was in such a state of mind that reason seemed to have deserted him. He actually proposed plunging into the thicket and attempting to search through it.

“You couldn’t make your way through that tangle in broad daylight,” declared Merry. “Don’t lose your head, Buckhart.”

“But, Frank – my pard, we must find him!”

“We will do everything we can. We may not find him to-night. But I will find him in time.”

“What has become of him?” groaned the Texan.

“It’s my belief,” said Merry, “that he is in the hands of my enemies. This is a new blow at me. I saw something of it in the eyes of Macklyn Morgan when I faced him in the hotel just before we started. There was a look of triumph on his face.”

“Whoop!” shouted Brad. “Then he’s the galoot we want to git at! It’s up to us to light on him all spraddled out and squeeze the truth out of him in a hurry. Just let me get at him!”

“And you would simply make the matter worse than it is. You must leave this thing to me, Buckhart. You must hold yourself in check unless you want to injure Dick. I will deal with Macklyn Morgan.”

“You,” said Wiley. “I fancy you have hit on the outrageous and egregious truth. I don’t know just what egregious means, but it sounds well there. Morgan has scooped Richard and proposes to hold him hard and fast until he can bring you to terms.”

“I think very likely such is his plot,” nodded Merry.

“He ought to be shot!” exploded Brad. “It was a whole lot unfortunate that the ruffians who carried him off did not keep him.”

“How do you think the trick was done?” questioned Wiley.

“I haven’t decided yet,” admitted Frank. “But I feel sure my brother is nowhere in this vicinity now. It’s my object to see Morgan again without delay.”

With this object in view Merriwell lost no further time in riding straight toward Prescott. When the town was reached he set out immediately to find Morgan, having first told Brad to see Felicia and do his best to soothe her fears.