Part 55 (2/2)
Again a sound came from beneath the coat. He was sure she was sobbing.
It must be that he was beginning to break down that icy barrier. She realized her position, and she would be reasonable.
”Elsie--little sweetheart!”
He began to remove the m.u.f.fling coat.
”Do not scream, Elsie--do not draw away, darling. Say that you will love me a little--just a little!”
He pulled the coat away, and something came out of the folds and touched cold and chilling against his forehead.
It was the muzzle of a revolver!
”Keep still!” commanded a voice that was full of chuckling laughter. ”If you chirp, I'll have to blow the roof of your head off, Gage!”
Leslie Gage caught his breath and nearly collapsed into the bottom of the boat. Indeed, he would have fallen had not a strong hand fastened on his collar and held him.
It was not Elsie Bellwood!
”I don't want to shoot you, Gage,” whispered the cool voice. ”I don't feel like that, even though you did attempt to take my life once or twice in the past. You have made me very good natured within the past few moments. How you did love me! How gently you murmured, 'Do not draw away, darling; say that you love me a little--just a little!' Ha! ha!
ha! Really, Gage, you gave me such amus.e.m.e.nt that I am more than satisfied with this little adventure.”
”That voice--I know it!” grated Gage, through set teeth. ”Still, I can't place you.”
”Indeed, you are forgetful, Gage. But it is rather dark, and I don't suppose you expected to see me here. We last met at Fardale.”
”Fardale?”
”Yes.”
”And you are--Frank Merriwell!”
Gage would have shouted the name in his amazement, but Frank's fingers suddenly closed on the fellow's throat and held back the sound in a great measure.
”Now you have guessed it,” chuckled Frank. ”Oh, Gage! I can forgive you for the past since you have provided me with so much amus.e.m.e.nt to-night.
How you urged me to learn to love you! But that's too much, Gage; I can never learn to do that.”
Leslie ground his teeth, but he was still overcome with unutterable amazement and wonder. That Frank Merriwell, whom he hated, should appear there at night in the wilds of the Florida Everglades was like a miracle.
What had become of Elsie Bellwood? Had some magic of that wild and dreary region changed her into Frank Merriwell?
Little wonder that Gage was dazed and helpless.
”How in the name of the Evil One did you come here?” he finally asked, recovering slightly from his stupor.
Frank laughed softly once more. It was the same old merry, boyish laugh that Gage had heard so often at Fardale, and it filled him with intense anger, as it had in the days of old.
”I know you did not expect to see me,” murmured Frank, still laughing.
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