THE ADVENTURES OF FRANK & DICK MERRIWELL: 20+ Crime & Mystery Classics (Illustrated). Burt L. Standish. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Burt L. Standish
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9788075831637
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never knows whar ter find ye, Muriel."

      "That is nary excuse, fer ef you-uns had held them-uns a day I'd knowed it. It looks like you-uns war in a monstr'us hurry."

      "It war he-uns," declared one of the black hoods, pointing to Miller. "He-uns war in ther hurry."

      "We don't gener'ly waste much time in dinkerin' 'roun' with anybody we-uns thinks is revernues," said Miller.

      "Wal, we ain't got ther record o' killin' innercent boys, an' we don't begin now. Take ther ropes off their necks."

      Two men hastened to obey the order, while Miller sat and grated his teeth. As this was being done, Muriel asked:

      "What war you-uns doin' with that revolver when I come? I heard ye shoot, an' I saw ther flash. Who did you-uns shoot at?"

      Miller stammered and stuttered till Muriel repeated the question, his voice cold and hard, despite its boyish caliber.

      "Wal," said Wade, reluctantly, "I'll have ter tell yer. I shot at he-uns," and he pointed at Frank.

      "I thought so," was all Muriel said.

      When the ropes were removed from the necks of the boys, Muriel directed that their feet be tied again, and their eyes blindfolded.

      These orders were attended to with great swiftness, and then the moonshiner chief said:

      "Follow!"

      Out they rode from beneath the tree, and away through the misty moonlight.

      Frank and Barney could not see, but they felt well satisfied with their lot, for they had been saved from death for the time being, and, somehow, they felt that Muriel did not mean to harm them.

      "Frank," whispered Barney, "are yez there?"

      "Here," replied Frank, close at hand.

      "It's dead lucky we are to be livin', me b'y."

      "You are quite correct, Barney. I feel like singing a song of praise and thanksgiving. But we're not out of the woods yet."

      "Thot Muriel is a dandy, Frankie! Oi'm shtuck on his stoyle."

      "He is no more than a boy. I wonder how he happened to appear at such an opportune moment?"

      "Nivver a bit do Oi know, but it's moighty lucky fer us thot he did."

      Frank fell to speculating over the providential appearance of the moonshiner chief. It was plain that Muriel must have known that something was happening, and he had signaled with the bugle to the Black Caps. In all probability, other executions had taken place beneath that very tree, for the young chief came there direct, without hesitation.

      For nearly an hour they seemed to ride through the night, and then they halted. The boys were removed from the horses and compelled to march into some kind of a building.

      After some moments, their hands were freed, and, tearing away the blindfolds, they found themselves in a low, square room, with no windows, and a single door.

      With his back to the door, stood Muriel.

      The light of a swinging oil lamp illumined the room.

      Muriel leaned gracefully against the door, his arms folded, and his eyes gleaming where the lamplight shone on them through the twin holes in the sable mask.

      The other moonshiners had disappeared, and the boys were alone in that room with the chief of the mountain desperadoes.

      There was something strikingly cool and self-reliant in Muriel's manner—something that caused Frank to think that the fellow, young as he was, feared nothing on the face of the earth.

      At the same time there was no air of bravado or insolence about that graceful pose and the quiet manner in which he was regarding them. Instead of that, the moonshiner was a living interrogation point, everything about him seeming to speak the question that fell from his lips.

      "Are you-uns revernues?"

      "Why do you ask us?" Frank quickly counter questioned. "You must know that we will lie if we are, and so you will hear our denial anyway. That can give you little satisfaction."

      "Look hyar—she tol' me fair an' squar' that you-uns warn't revernues, but I dunno how she could tell."

      "Of whom are you speaking?"

      Frank fancied that he knew, but he put the question, and Muriel answered:

      "Ther gal that saved yore lives by comin' ter me an' tellin' me ther boys had taken you outer her mammy's house."

      "Kate Kenyon?"

      "Yes."

      "God bless her! She did save our lives, for if you had been one minute later you would not have arrived in time. Dear girl! I'll not forget her!"

      Muriel moved uneasily, and he did not seem pleased by Frank's words, although his face could not be seen. It was some moments before he spoke, but his voice was strangely cold and hard when he did so.

      "It's well ernough fer you-uns ter remember her, but ye'd best take car' how ye speak o' her. She's got friends in ther maountings—true friends."

      Frank was startled, and he felt the hot blood rush to his face. Then, in a moment, he cried:

      "Friends! Well, she has no truer friends than the boys she saved to-night! I hope you will not misconstrue our words, Mr. Muriel."

      A sound like a smothered laugh came from behind that baffling mask, and Muriel said:

      "Yo're hot-blooded. I war simply warnin' you-uns in advance, that's all. I thought it war best."

      "It was quite unnecessary. We esteem Miss Kenyon too highly to say anything that can give a friend of hers just cause to strike against us."

      "Wal, city chaps are light o' tongue, an' they're apt ter think that ev'ry maounting girl is a fool ef she don't have book learnin'. Some city chaps make their boast how easy they kin 'mash' such gals. Anything like that would count agin' you-uns."

      Frank was holding himself in check with an effort.

      "It is plain you do not know us, and you have greatly misjudged us. We are not in the mountains to make 'mashes,' and we are not the kind to boast of our conquests."

      "Thot's right, me jool!" growled Barney, whose temper was started a bit. "An' it's mesilf thot loikes to be suspected av such a thing. It shtirs me foighting blud."

      The Irish lad clinched his fist, and felt of his muscle, moving his forearm up and down, and scowling blackly at the cool chief of moonshiners, as if longing to thump the fellow.

      This seemed to amuse Muriel, but still he persisted in further arousing the lads by saying, insinuatingly:

      "I war led ter b'lieve that Kate war ruther interested in you-uns by her manner. Thar don't no maounting gal take so much trouble over strangers fer nothin'!"

      Frank bit his lip, and Barney looked blacker than ever. It seemed that Muriel was trying to draw them into a trap of some sort, and they were growing suspicious. Had this young leader of mountain ruffians rescued them that he might find just cause or good excuse to put them out of the way?

      The boys were silent, and Muriel forced a laugh.

      "Wal, ye won't talk about that, an' so we'll go onter somethin' else. I judge you-uns know yo're in a po'erful bad scrape?"

      "We have good reasons to think so."

      "Begorra! we have thot!" exclaimed Barney, feeling of his neck, and making a wry face, as if troubled by an unpleasant recollection.

      "It is a scrape that you-uns may not be able ter git out of easy," Muriel said. "I war able ter save yer from bein' hung 'thout any show at all, but ye're not much better off now."

      "If you were powerful enough to save us in the first place, you should be able to get us out of the scrape entirely."

      "You-uns don't know all about it. Moonshiners have laws