Frank Merriwell Down South Part 78

"It's dead lucky we are ter be living, Frankie," observed Barney.

"I quite agree with you," laughed Merriwell. "This night has been a black and tempestuous one, but we have lived through it, and I do not believe we'll find ourselves in such peril again while we are in the Tennessee mountains."

They were hungry, and they ate heartily of the plain food that had been provided for them.

When breakfast was over, Barney said:

"Frankie, it's off yer trolley ye git sometoimes."

"What do you mean by that, Barney? Is it a new sell?"

"Nivver a bit. Oi wur thinkin' av pwhat yez said about Kate Kenyon being Mooriel, th' moonshoiner."

"I was not off my trolley so very much then."

"G'wan, me b'y! Ye wur crazy as a bidbug."

"You think so, but I have made a study of Muriel and of Kate Kenyon. I am still inclined to believe the moons.h.i.+ner is the girl in disguise."

"An' Oi say ye're crazy. No girrul could iver do pwhat thot felly does, an' no band av min loike th' moonshoiners would iver allow a girrul loike Kate Kenyon ter boss thim."

"They do not know Muriel is a girl. That is, I am sure the most of them do not know it--do not dream it."

"Thot shows their common sinse, fer Oi don't belave it mesilf."

"I may be wrong, but I shall not give it up yet."

"Whoy, think pwhat a divvil thot Muriel is! An' th' color av his hair is black, whoile the girrul's is red."

"I have thought of those things, and I have wondered how she concealed that ma.s.s of red hair; still I am satisfied she does it."

"Well, it's no use to talk to you at all, at all."

However, they did discuss it for some time.

Finally they fell to exploring the old mill, and they wandered from one part to another till they finally came to the place where they had entered over a sagging plank. They were standing there, just within the deeper shadow of the mill, when a man came panting and reeling from the woods, his hat off, his s.h.i.+rt torn open at the throat, great drops of perspiration standing on his face, a wild, hunted look in his eyes, and dashed to the end of the plank that led over the water into the old mill.

Frank clutched Barney, and the boys fell back a step, watching the man, who was looking back over his shoulder and listening, the perfect picture of a hunted thing.

"They're close arter me--ther dogs!" came in a hoa.r.s.e pant from the man's lips. "But I turned on 'em--I doubled--an' I hope I fooled 'em.

It's my last chance, fer I'm dead played, and I'm so nigh starved that it's all I kin do ter drag one foot arter t'other."

He listened again, and then, as if overcome by a sudden fear of being seen there, he suddenly rushed across the plank and plunged into the mill.

He ran fairly upon Frank Merriwell.

In the twinkling of an eye man and boy were clasped in a close embrace, struggling desperately.

"Caught!" cried the fugitive, desperately. "Trapped!"

He tried to hurl Frank to the floor, and he would have succeeded had he been in his normal condition, for he was a man of great natural strength; but he was exhausted by flight and hunger, and, in his weakened condition, the man found his supple antagonist too much for him.

A gasp came from the stranger's lips as he felt the boy give him a wrestler's trip and fling him heavily to the floor.

The man was stunned for a moment. When he opened his eyes, Frank and Barney were bending over him.

"Wal, I done my best," he said, huskily; "but you-uns trapped me at last. I dunno how yer knew I war comin' har, but ye war on hand ter meet me."

"You have made a mistake," said Frank, in a rea.s.suring tone. "We are not your enemies at all."

"What's that?"

"We are not your enemies; you are not trapped."

The man seemed unable to believe what he heard.

"Why, who be you-uns?" he asked, in a bewildered way.

"Fugitives, like yourself," a.s.sured Frank, with a smile.

He looked them over, and shook his head.

"Not like me," he said. "Look at me! I'm wore ter ther bone--I'm a wreck! Oh, it's a cursed life I've led sence they dragged me away from har! Night an' day hev I watched for a chance ter break away, and' I war quick ter grasp it when it came. They shot at me, an' one o' their bullets cut my shoulder har. It war a close call, but I got away. Then they follered, an' they put houn's arter me. Twenty times hev they been right on me, an' twenty times hev I got erway. But it kep' wearin' me weaker an' thinner. My last hope war ter find friends ter hide me an'

fight fer me, an' I came har--back home! I tried ter git inter 'Bije Wileys' this mornin', but his dorg didn't know me, I war so changed, an'

ther hunters war close arter me, so I hed ter run fer it."

"Begorra!" exclaimed Barney; "we hearrud th' dog barruckin'."

"So we did," agreed Frank, remembering how the creature had been clamoring on the mountainside at daybreak.

"I kem har," continued the man, weakly. "I turned on ther devils, but when I run in har an' you-uns tackled me, I judged I had struck a trap."

"It was no trap, Rufe Kenyon," said Frank, quietly.

The hunted man started up and slunk away.

"You know me!" he gasped.

"We do."

"An' still ye say you-uns are not my enemies."

"We are not."

"Then how do you know me? I never saw yer afore."

"No; but we have heard of you."