Part 78 (1/2)
”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!”