Frank Merriwell's Backers: or, The Pride of His Friends. Standish Burt L.

Frank Merriwell's Backers: or, The Pride of His Friends - Standish Burt L.


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let Frank alone until after dinner. Then he sat down with Merry, they being by themselves, and again broached the subject that seemed uppermost in his mind.

      "See here," said Frank, "I offered one of your men a thousand dollars to get me out of this. The same offer stands good with you."

      The dark face of Cimarron Bill flushed and he looked deadly.

      "Mebbe you don't know you're insultin' me a heap!" he said. "Such bein' the probable case, I resents it none. The minin' trust has promised me five thousan' when I turns them papers over."

      "Which you will never do."

      "Which I'll sure do if you gits foolish an' refuses to tie up with me."

      "Well," said Frank, "I'm not bidding against the mining trust. I have refused to recognize that organization."

      "Then you refuses my proposal?" said Bill, in that cold, dangerous voice of his.

      "Not that. I want until to-morrow morning to think it over. Just till to-morrow."

      "You'll give me my answer to-morrer mornin'?"

      "Yes."

      "Then it's settled that you has that much more time. I won't ask ye no more about it until to-morrer morning; an' then you must sure give an answer. I knows what that answer will certain be if you has the level head I thinks."

      CHAPTER VI.

      INJUN JOE TO THE RESCUE

      Along in the middle of the night Frank awoke. Again he was overcome by that strange feeling that some person was near him. Then he felt a touch, light as a feather, and saw at his side a dark figure.

      The starlight came in at the small, square window.

      A hand grasped Frank's wrist and gave it a gentle pull. There was not even a whisper. Merry knew what was wanted.

      Without making a sound, he crept across the ground to the wall, where a timber had been removed from the lower portion, making an opening large enough for a man to slip through.

      Some one passed noiselessly through this opening ahead of him. Frank followed as silently as he could.

      Outside he found at his side the one who had entered the cabin in that manner. This person lay flat on the ground and moved away with amazing deftness and silence.

      Frank could not follow as easily, but he wormed along as best he could. In that manner they finally passed to the shelter of some scrubby bushes.

      There Frank found a dark form sitting on the ground.

      "Heap all right," whispered a voice. "You no make a row when Joe him come. Joe he know you be ready if you find feather."

      It was Crowfoot, the faithful old redskin.

      "All right now. Make um no noise. Foller Joe," continued the Indian.

      The old fellow did not hurry. He took his time to crawl along on hands and knees until they were far from the hut. At last he arose, and Frank followed his example. They bent low and went on like two dark shadows.

      "Can we get out of the valley all right?" asked Merry.

      "One man him guard this way to go out," said Joe.

      "How do we pass him?"

      "Joe know. Leave it to him."

      The valley narrowed at last. They slipped along between rocky walls. Joe's feet made absolutely no sound.

      "Stop here," advised the redskin. "Joe him come back in minute."

      So Frank stopped and waited. The minute was long. Indeed, it became ten minutes at least. But the old fellow returned, saying:

      "All right. Coast clear."

      "What's that?" exclaimed Frank, as they nearly stumbled over a dark figure, as they were hurrying on again.

      "Him guard," said Joe.

      "Guard? What's the matter with him?"

      "Him sleep."

      Merry shuddered a bit, for he fancied he knew the sort of sleep meant by the old fellow.

      Cimarron Bill would receive his answer in the morning. It would be a great surprise to him, and would please him not at all.

      More than two miles had been traversed when they came, in a deep gully, upon old Joe's horse.

      "No keep him so near," said the Indian. "Bring him here to have him ready to-night. You ride."

      Frank did not fancy the idea of riding, but the old fellow insisted, and Merry finally mounted. So they passed through the silent night, Joe leading for a time.

      "Did you get the package off all right?" Merry asked.

      "Him go," said Joe. "No worry."

      "Joe, I don't know how I can repay you; but anything I have in this world is yours. You want to remember that. Take what you want that belongs to me."

      "Joe him not need much. He soon go off to the long hunt."

      Frank thought of the time when this old redskin had been his bitter enemy, when Joe had seemed treacherous and deadly as a rattlesnake, and smiled somewhat over the transformation. He had won the confidence of the Indian, who was now as faithful as he had once been dangerous.

      "Did you see anything of the one-armed man who was with my pursuers?" asked Merry.

      "No see him after leave you."

      "He was sent away to follow you."

      "No see him. He no bother me."

      Frank was thoroughly well satisfied with the work of the faithful redskin.

      They took turns at riding throughout the night. Three hours after dawn they came into a large, wooded valley amid the mountains. As they approached this valley they heard afar a rumbling, jarring sound that brought a smile to the face of Frank Merriwell.

      "The stamps are in operation," he said.

      Riding up the valley, through which flowed a stream of water, they saw reared against the bold face of a high mountain, looking like ant-mounds, some buildings, four or five in number. In the side of the mountain opened the black mouth of a shaft.

      "Hurrah!" Merry cried, waving his hat over his head. "There, Joe, is the Queen Mystery, and it is in full blast!"

      The Queen Mystery mine was located a long distance from the nearest railroad, but Merriwell had been to the expense and trouble of having the very latest machinery brought there and set up. He had in his employ Jim Tracy, as a foreman, said to be thoroughly capable and reliable. Only about fifty men were employed in the mine at that time; but Merry contemplated increasing the force extensively.

      There was talk of a branch railroad being constructed to pass within ten or fifteen miles of the Queen Mystery.

      Were the mine to fall into the hands of the mining trust, without doubt that railroad would be constructed, and it would run direct to Camp Mystery and onward. The influence of the great railroad magnate would easily bring about the running of the railroad to suit his fancy.

      The mining trust had been completely baffled in its first efforts to get the best of Merriwell.

      Frank was welcomed at the mine, where he made himself comfortable.

      Old Joe disappeared within six hours after arriving there. He vanished without saying a word to Merry about his intentions.

      Two days later he reappeared, Frank finding him sitting, in the morning, with his back against one of the buildings, his red blanket pulled about him, serenely smoking.

      "Hello, Joe!" cried Merry. "So you're back?"

      "Ugh!" grunted Joe, as he continued to smoke.

      "What's your report, Joe?"

      "Bad men heap gone."

      "Cimarron Bill and his gang?"

      "Joe mean um."

      "They have gone?"

      "Git out. They go heap quick after Strong


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