Frank Merriwell Down South Part 81

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed a hateful voice. "Did you-uns think ye war goin'

ter escape? Wal, yer didn't know Wade Miller very well. I knowed Kate'd try ter git yer off, an' all I hed ter do war watch her. I didn't waste my time runnin' round elsewhar."

They were once more in Miller's clutches!

Frank ground his teeth with impotent rage. He blamed himself for falling into the trap, and still he could not see how he was to blame. Surely he had been cautious, but fate was against him. He had escaped Miller twice; but this was the third time, and he feared that it would prove disastrous.

Barney had not a word to say.

The hands of the captured boys were tied behind their backs, and then they were forced to march swiftly along in the midst of the Black Caps that surrounded them.

They were not taken to the cave, but straight to one of the hidden stills, a little hut that was built against what seemed to be a wall of solid rock, a great bluff rising against the face of the mountain. Thick trees concealed the little hut down in the hollow.

Into this hut the boys were marched.

Some crude candles were lighted, and they saw around them the outfit for making moons.h.i.+ne whiskey.

"Thar!" cried Miller, triumphantly; "you-uns will never go out o' this place. Ther revernues spotted this still ter-day, but it won't be har ter-morrer."

He made a signal, and the boys were thrown to the floor, where they were held helpless, while their feet were bound.

When this job was finished Miller added:

"No, ther revernues won't find this still ter-morrer, fer it will go up in smoke. Moons.h.i.+ne is good stuff ter burn, an' we'll see how you-uns like it."

At a word a keg of whiskey was brought to the spot by two men.

"Let 'em try ther stuff," directed Miller.

"Begorra! he's goin' ter fill us up bafore he finishes us!" muttered Barney Mulloy.

But that was not the intention of the revengeful man.

A plug was knocked from a hole in the end of the keg, and then the whiskey was poured over the clothing of the boys, wetting them to the skin.

"Soak 'em!" directed Miller.

The men did not stop pouring till the clothing of the boys was thoroughly saturated.

"Thar!" said Miller, with a fiendish chuckle, "I reckon you-uns is ready fer touchin' off, an' ye'll burn like pine knots. Ther way ye'll holler will make ye heard clean ter ther top o' Black Maounting, an' ther fire will be seen; but when anybody gits har, you-uns an' this still will be ashes."

He knelt beside Frank, lighted a match, and applied it to the boy's whiskey-soaked clothing!

CHAPTER XLVI.

THE MYSTERY OF MURIEL.

Not quite! The flame almost touched Frank's clothing when the boy rolled over swiftly, thus getting out of the way for the moment.

At the same instant the blast of a bugle was heard at the very front of the hut, and the door fell with a crash, while men poured in by the opening.

"Ther revernues!" shouted Wade Miller.

"No, not ther revernues!" rang out a clear voice; "but Muriel!"

The boy chief of the Black Caps was there.

"An' Muriel is not erlone!" thundered another voice. "Rufe Kenyon is har!"

Out in front of Muriel leaped the escaped criminal, confronting the man who had betrayed him.

Miller staggered, his face turning pale as if struck a heavy blow, and a bitter exclamation of fury came through his clinched teeth.

"Rufe!" he grated. "Then it's fight fer life!"

"Yes, it's fight!" roared Kate Kenyon's brother, as a long-bladed knife glittered in his hand, and he thrust back the sleeve of his s.h.i.+rt till his arm was bared above the elbow. "I swore ter finish yer, Miller; but I'll give ye a squar' show! Draw yer knife, an' may ther best man win!"

With the snarl that might have come from the throat of a savage beast, Miller s.n.a.t.c.hed out a revolver instead of drawing a knife.

"I'll not fight ye!" he screamed; "but I'll shoot ye plumb through ther heart!"

He fired, and Rufe Kenyon ducked at the same time.

There was a scream of pain, and Muriel flung up both hands, dropping into the arms of the man behind.

Rufe Kenyon had dodged the bullet, but the boy chief of the Black Caps had suffered in his stead.

Miller seemed dazed by the result of his shot. The revolver fell from his hand, and he staggered forward, groaning:

"Kate!--I've killed her!"

Rufe Kenyon forgot his foe, dropping on one knee beside the prostrate figure of Muriel, and swiftly removing the mask.

The face of Kate Kenyon was revealed!

"Sister!" panted her brother, "be ye dead? Has that rascal killed ye?"

Her eyes opened, and she faintly said:

"Not dead yit, Rufe."

Then the brother shouted:

"Ketch Wade Miller! Don't let ther critter escape!"

It seemed that every man in the hut leaped to obey.