Part 55 (1/2)
”My Charlee!”
”Yes.”
”Oh, I dream such terrible thing!”
”Tell her our plan,” directed Brad.
Cavendish did so.
”You may be kill, Charlee!” she whispered, in terror.
”It is the only chance. We must try it. Remain here, Flavia, while we creep close to the mouth of the cave and attempt to overpower the guard.
If we fail and he raises an outcry, we will knock him down at least, and try to secure his weapons. If you see us do that, come quickly and be prepared to run with us into the darkness. Are you brave, Flavia?”
”You make me brafe, Charlee. You brafest, bes' man in whole world!”
Even as he closed her loving lips with another kiss a surprising thing happened. Brad saw the guard halt at the mouth of the cave and look intently toward the dying fire and the dimly seen sleepers about it.
Then the fellow stepped into the cave!
The Texan gathered himself panther-like for the spring.
”Hist!”
The guard had paused, and from his lips came a sibilant sound.
”Englishman here? American boy here?” he asked, in a whisper.
”Whatever does this mean?” thought Buckhart, hesitating.
”Other American boy send me,” declared the guard. ”He have horses ready.
He pay me to help. I am sic' being outlaw. He gif me drachma 'nough to make me rich. I leaf this countree, lif hones' some other countree. I help you 'scape. You come now! Quick!”
”Great horn spoon!” breathed the Texan. ”My pard has made a move! I knew he would! Oh, he's a bird, you bet your boots! But I don't see how he worked the trick of bribing the guard.”
”Don't be fool!” hissed the man. ”No time for waste! Come now!”
He found Brad and thrust a weapon into his hand.
”Perhap' have fight,” he said.
The Texan doubted no longer, for his fingers gripped the b.u.t.t of a pistol.
”Come, Cavendis.h.!.+” he palpitated. ”Here is where we prance forth and trust to fortune and the sagacity of d.i.c.k Merriwell, the cleverest chap on two legs. You hear me gurgle!”
They followed the stooping, m.u.f.fled guard. The moment they were outside the mouth of the cave he turned sharply to the right and hastened into the enfolding gloom. They kept at his heels.
They had not gone far when Buckhart espied a prostrate figure on the ground. It seemed like a dead man, and the Texan paused, not a little startled.
”What's this?” he whispered.