New Tip Top Weekly

No. 11; October 12, 1912. 

FRANK MERRIWELL, JUNIOR's, GOLDEN TRAIL; Or, THE FUGITIVE PROFESSOR. 

By BURT L. STANDISH. 

CHAPTER I. 

DREAMS AND OMENS. 

"Look here, you fellows, " cried Ballard, "if I don't get this out of mysystem I'm going to explode. It will only take a minute or two, and--"

"Go on and explode, " cut in Clancy unfeelingly. "Can't you see that Chipand I are busy?"

"But this dream was a corker, Red, and I--"

"For the love of Mike, Pink, I wish you'd _cork_. Wait till the work outthere is wound up and then you can--wow! How was that for a tackle, Chip?"

Three separate and distinct times, there in the grand stand, BillyBallard had tried to tell his chums, young Frank Merriwell and OwenClancy, of a dream he had the night before. It seemed to have occurredto suddenly, for the forenoon and part of the afternoon had slipped awaywithout any attempt on Ballard's part to rehearse the fancies that hadafflicted him in his sleep. But now he was feverishly eager, and therebuffs he took from the annoyed Clancy only exasperated him. 

It was hardly an opportune moment, however, to talk dreams and omens. Merry was wrapped up in a practice game of football, and was alternatelyscrutinizing players and hastily jotting down notes with a pencil. Clancy was not making any memoranda, but snappy work on the gridiron wasclaiming his full attention. With a sigh of resignation, Ballard bottledup his remarks and sat back on the hard boards. 

Only Merry and his two chums were in the grand stand. The practice gamewas between the regular Ophir Athletic Club eleven and a scrub team. Ithad been put on for Frank's exclusive benefit. 

For two straight years the O. A. C. Had gone down to inglorious defeatbefore their rivals from Gold Hill--thirty-six to nothing on lastThanksgiving Day--and the sting of those defeats had made Ophirpessimistic and their eleven a joke. Another Thanksgiving Day was lessthan two months ahead, and the Ophir fellows were turning to Merriwellfor help. They felt that if any one could pick an eleven from the clubmembers and round them, into winning form, it was he, and he alone. 

This was not the first practice game staged for Merriwell. The first onehad degenerated into a farce, for the spirit of fun had taken untimelygrip of the players and a promising exhibition had gone to pieces on areef of horseplay. Spink and Handy, for the club, had waited upon Merryand tendered apologies, and a second game had been arranged. Circumstances over which Merry had had little control had kept him awayfrom that second game; and now, four days later, the Ophir eleven weregallantly retrieving themselves. 

The two teams had ranged themselves across the field, and a scrub foothad booted the oval well down toward the regulars' goal. A nervous fullback waited to receive that opening kick, while his teammates rushed athim to form their flying screen of interference. The ball evaded thearms that reached for it, while another back fell on it and kept itclear of the clutches of a scrub end. 

Frank scrawled a note on the paper that lay on his knee. "That'sLeversee, " he remarked, "but I think he'll steady down. "

"That scrub end is faster than a streak of greased lightning, Chip, "commented the admiring Clancy. "Good material, what?"

Presently came the first scrimmage, and a regular half back, all beefand brawn, went down in a flurry. The scrub defense was like a stonewall. It was the second down and four yards to gain. The regularinterferers dashed to get around one end of the line, but were flung toright and left, and the runner, dropped more than a yard short of therequired distance. 

The regular full back retreated for a punt. Fast and far the ball sailedinto the scrub field, which proved that the back's feet were notnervous, no matter if his hands and arms had been a trifle unsteady. 

"Bully!" muttered Frank, and scrawled another notation. 

The scrubs, going up against the regulars' defense, found it impossibleto make any decisive gains. Vigor and rocklike endurance marked theclashes, and both regulars and scrubs had to punt and punt again. Fakeplays were riddled by swift and sagacious end rushes, for one side orthe other, hurling attacks against the center were crushed and flungback; and, more and more as the battle raged, it became evident that theregular eleven, while good, were no whit better than the scrubs. 

The fight in the first half was carried into the last minute of theplay. The whistle separated the combatants, and neither side had scored. 

During the interval that followed Ballard sought to tell his dream, Merriwell and Clancy, however, were in close and earnest conversationregarding the players and had no time for anything not connected withthe game. 

"With material like that to choose from, Chip, " said Clancy, "it oughtnot to be much of a trick to select an eleven that would put it all overGold Hill. "

"From all I can hear, Clan, " Merry answered, "the Gold Hill bunch is afast one. I don't know what we can do. The Ophirites are liable to hit, their funny bone in the last half and turn the performance into a farcecomedy. "

"Never again, Chip. Once was enough. "

"What happens once is always liable to happen again, " Frank answered, "although I'm hoping for the best. "

His fears were not realized. The last half of the game, although faultyin spots, was, on the whole a creditable performance. Merriwell was morethan pleased. When Spink and Handy, dusty and breathless, halted ontheir way to the showers and the dressing rooms to ask his opinion, Merry gave them the praise that was their due. 

"We can make up an eleven here that ought to do things to Gold Hill, fellows, " said he. 

"They say that Gold Hill is so sure of getting our scalps for the thirdtime, " said Spink, "that they haven't begun their fall work. "

"Which makes everything look all the brighter for Ophir, " laughed Frank. "Too much confidence is worse than not enough. You seem to think that Ican help you, although I--"

"It's a cinch you can help us!" broke in Handy. "Wasn't your father thestar coach at Yale?"

A slight frown crossed Frank's face. 

"Don't try to pin any of dad's medals on me, Handy, " said Frank. "Ididn't inherit any of his couching ability. Dad gave me a good, cleanbringing-up. Ever since I've been old enough to waddle, he has made mestand on my own feet. If you fellows are bound that I can help you, I'llgive some suggestions and do my best. I'll get the suggestions in shapeand give them to you in a day or so. "

The regulars and scrubs, who had grouped themselves at a little distancebehind Spink and Handy, gave a delighted cheer. Frank, putting away hispencil and paper, smiled as he watched them trot away toward the gym. 

"Now, " said Ballard, with a show of injured dignity, "I wonder if youfellows can spare a little of your valuable time?"

"What's biting you, Pink?" inquired Frank. 

"It's a dream, " said Clancy derisively. "Pink has been seeing things atnight, and he has been boiling over to tell us about it ever since thispractice game started. Why don't you get a dream book, you crazy, chump, " he added to Ballard, "and figure the visions out for yourself?"

"Or a joke book, " said Frank. "You can do about as much figuring fromthat as from anything else. "

"Oh, blazes!" exclaimed Ballard. "Don't make light of this dream. I justhappened to remember, since we reached this grand stand, that I've hadit three nights in succession. When a dream comes to you three timeslike that it's supposed to mean something. "

"Sure, " agreed Clancy, wagging his head; "it means that for three nightsyou have--er--eaten not wisely but too well. How's that, Chip? Prettygood, eh?" He straightened up, looked grave, and went on to Ballard;"Dreams, William, are the result of tantrums in the tummy. You load up asuffering organ with grub that's so rich it affects the imagination;consequently, when the razmataz, in a state of coma, projects itselfinto the _medulla oblongata_--"

Ballard, yelling wildly, made a jump for Clancy. Merry, however, hadalready taken hint in hand. 

"That sounds too much like Professor Phineas Borredaile, " said Frank. "Call off the dog, Clan;" and he smothered his red-headed chum andpushed him down on the hard boards. 

"I'll be good, Chip, " murmured Clancy, in a stilted voice. "Take yourhands, off my face and let me breathe. "

Frank released him with a laugh, and Clancy smoothed himself out. 

"I was only expounding, " explained the red-headed chap, "and now thatthe prof isn't around to do it, a substitute has to take hold. "

"Pink isn't the only one who has taken a foolish powder, " said Merry. 

"And, talking about Phineas, what do you suppose the old fossil is upto?" Clancy went on, just a shade of anxiety sifting into his tones. "It's four days now, since he suddenly made up his mind to go over GoldHill. What did he go for? And why is he staying away? We haven't heard aword from him since he left. "

Merriwell looked serious. 

"All that has been bothering me, Clan, " he acknowledged "Since we foundthe prof in that deserted, mining camp, and helped him file a locationon that mining claim, we're responsible for him, in a way. He need, looking after, and we have't been on the job at all. "

"After you disappeared mysteriously the other night, " remarked Clancy, "Mr. Bradlaugh had an idea that you had gone over to Gold Hill to seethe prof. Mr. Bradlaugh called up the Bristow Hotel, at the Hill, andtalked with Borrodaile. He said he hadn't seen you, on--"

"I know about that, " Merry interrupted. "That was four days ago, and wehaven't seen Borrodaile nor had a word from him since. Honest, fellows, I'm getting worried. Before we started out here this afternoon I askedMr. Bradlaugh to try and get the prof on the phone, and to ask him whenhe intended coming back to Ophir. Until I hear from dad, in answer tothat letter I sent the night I was taken out to the Bar Z Ranch, I won'tknow what we're expected to do with the prof. Meanwhile, we've got tokeep an eye on him. He's the sole owner of a rich mining claim, and he'sabout as capable of looking after his interests as a blanket Indian. "

"That's right, " assented Clancy. "Borrodaile can tell you all about theJurassic Period, and can give you the complete history of theNeanderthal man from A to Izizard, but I'll guarantee to sell him a goldbrick in five minutes. As for business--well, he doesn't know any moreabout ordinary, everyday business than a--er--troglodyte, whatever thatis. "

"My dream was about the professor, " struck in Ballard. 

Merry and Clancy turned at that and gave their chum some attention. 

"Come over with it, Pink, " said Frank. "There's nothing in the dream, ofcourse, but the fact that the professor figured in it proves you werefretting a little on his account yourself. "

"Well, it was like this, " returned Ballard, glad that the opportunityhad finally come to relieve his mind. "I seemed to be back in that pileof ruins that used to be Happenchance, the played-out mining camp. Fromthat claim of the professor's stretched a row of nuggets, clear from thePicket Post Mountains to Gold Hill. They were big nuggets, too, runningall the way from one the size of my hat to a whole lot as big as awashtub--"

"Whew!" grinned Clancy. "Go on, Pink; don't mind me. "

"The nuggets, " proceeded Ballard, frowning at Clancy, "were arrangedlike stepping-stones--one here, another a few feet beyond, and anotherbeyond that, and so on. "

"Regular golden trail, " laughed Clancy. "That was some dream, Pink. "

"The professor, " resumed Ballard, "was running along the trail, hat off, his bald head glimmering in the sun, and the tails of his long coatflying out behind. Three or four nuggets behind him, running after himas fast as they could go, were several hard-looking citizens. That'sabout all. For three times, now, I've seen the prof chased over thatgolden trail by desperadoes. I've never be able to see how the chasecame out, for always, just at the critical moment, I'd wake up. What doyou think of it?"

Before Frank could answer, some one appeared in the clubhouse door, across the athletic field from the grand stand, and trumpetedMerriwell's name through his hands. 

"Hello!" answered Frank, getting up and shouting. 

"Mr. Bradlaugh wants you on the phone, " came the answer. 

Without delaying, Frank leaped the rail in front of him and sprinted forthe clubhouse. Ballard and Clancy followed, but at a more leisurelypace. 

"That dream of yours, Pink, " averred Clancy, on the way across thefield, "was a 'happenchance'--like the old, played-out town we found inthe Picket Posts. "

Ballard merely grunted. It was plain that he had his own ideas on thesubject of that dream. 

On reaching the clubhouse the two lads found Merry just coming away fromthe telephone. His face was clouded, and there was an anxious light inhis eyes. 

"What's wrong, Chip?" inquired Clancy. 

"Borrodaile isn't in Gold Hill, " was the answer. "He left the BristowHotel three days ago, and hasn't been seen since. "

CHAPTER II. 

THE TELEGRAM FROM BLOOMFIELD. 

Professor Phineas Borrodaile had for years been an instructor in anacademy in the middle West. His health failing, he was ordered toArizona. The dry, invigorating climate had worked wonders in thousandsof cases similar to the professor's, and there was every reason tobelieve that the professor would be greatly benefited, if not entirelycured of his malady. 

At the last moment before starting Borrodaile had happened to think ofan old letter from a nephew of his who had been engaged in the miningbusiness in a camp called Happenchance, in southern Arizona. Theprofessor looked up the letter. The writer of it had died years before, and the camp of Happenchance had had its day and was now deserted andlost among the Picket Post Mountains. What made the letter of especialinterest to the professor was the fact that it gave the location of aledge of gold, not far from the old Happenchance placerings. 

A bee began buzzing in the professor's bonnet. It was this: He would getout of the world; in the old, lost camp he would recover his health byliving the primitive life. Also, being next of kin to his late nephew, he would find and possess himself of the ledge of gold. 

Some months after Professor Borrodaile had put his plan into execution, young Merriwell received a letter from his father, in Bloomfield, rathermysteriously requesting him to pay a visit to the lost town of thePicket Posts and to report at length upon anything he might find in theonly habitable building of the camp. Aided by a prospector named NickPorter, Frank and his chums visited Happenchance and there found theprofessor. They had adventures in helping the professor get his locationnotice on file, and only Merry's fleetness of foot and good judgmentsaved a prospective bonanza mine for Borrodaile. 

Very strangely the professor had left Ophir for Gold Hill not many hoursafter he had come with Frank and his friends from Gold Hill to Ophir. The youngsters were not his guardians, however, and did not feelauthorized to interfere too much in his affairs. Merry thought it bestto go slow in the matter until a reply had been received to the reportwhich he had sent to his father. Six days or a week would be required inforwarding a letter to Bloomfield and receiving a letter in reply. Meanwhile four days had elapsed, and Borrodaile had dropped completelyout of sight. 

Knowing the professor to be inexperienced in business affairs, Merriwellhad begun to worry about him. There were unscrupulous men in plenty whowould not hesitate to take advantage of him with the idea of securinghis very valuable mining claim. The telephone message from Mr. Bradlaugh, therefore, was quite disturbing. 

"Ah, ha!" exclaimed Ballard, when Merriwell reported the professormissing from Gold Hill, "so you think there's nothing in that dream ofmine, eh? This news from Gold Hill shows that it amounts to something. "

"What the mischief do you think is going on, Chip?" asked Clancy. 

"I'm up in the air and haven't an idea, " replied Frank. 

"Mr. Bradlaugh asked me to come over to his office in town for aconference. "

"We'll have to hit the golden trail, " declared Ballard, "and run it outto a finish. We've got to be mighty quick about it, too, or there's notelling what will happen to the old prof. "

"Show us your nuggets as big as washtubs, Pink, " grinned Clancy, "andI'm willing to begin to sprint. "

"The dream was only a warning. It didn't suggest what we were to do, orhow we're to go about it, but just gives us a hunch that Borrodaileneeds help. "

"That's the trouble with dreams--there's too much guesswork about 'em. If you have one, and something happens that seems to tally with it, why, you're apt to take it for granted that you had a hunch. I'll bet you'vehad thousands of dreams about things that never happened, and yet hereyou're picking out one that appears to jibe with the prof's absence fromGold hill, and trying to make us think it's a warning. Stuff!"

"You're too free with your snap judgments, Red, " said Ballard solemnly, "but wait a while and you'll change your tune. "

Merriwell was already on his way out of the clubhouse, Clancy andBallard gave up their discussion and hurried after him. The clubhouseand athletic field were less than a mile from the town of Ophir, and thethree friends were soon jogging along through the sand on their way toMr. Bradlaugh's office. 

Bradlaugh was president of the O. A. C. , and Western representative ofthe syndicate that owned the big mine and stamp mill to the south oftown. It was the mine that had made the straggling settlement of Ophir apossibility. 

"It will be at least two days more before I can hear from dad, " Merryremarked, just as they struck into the main street of the "camp, " "andbefore we interfere too much with the professor I think we ought tolearn from headquarters just how far we ought to go. "

"Oh, bother that!" exclaimed Clancy. "If the old boy's in danger, Chip, we can't hang back waiting to hear from Bloomfield. "

"Sure we can't. We're making a guess, though, when we figure that he isin any sort of trouble. Just because he can't be located is no sign he'sshooting the trouble chutes. "

"Yes, it is!" averred Ballard stoutly. "That dream I--"

"Oh, cut out the dreams and forebodings, Pink, " broke in Frank, "We'redealing with facts now and not with a lot of bunk superstitions. "

That dream had become Ballard's hobby, and he was in a fair way ofriding it to death. Although he was easy going, and rather lazy whencircumstances gave him the chance to be, yet he straightened suddenly atFrank's sharp fling at his delusion, and was on the point of flashing akeen retort. Before he could speak, however, Frank had turned in atBradlaugh's office. 

Mr. Bradlaugh sat at his desk, smoking a cigar. He welcomed the ladscordially and waved them to chair. 

"What do you think about Borrodaile, Frank?" he asked, coming right downto the main subject. 

"I think, " was the prompt answer, "that he has a head that's stuffedwith knowledge--but it's not the sort of knowledge that will help himhang on to that bonanza mining claim of his. "

"My motion to a t, y, ty. He can go back to Caesar's time and tell youhow the old Romans used to do business, but he's as innocent as a babein arms about the way business is done in this day and age of the world. He needs looking after, or some one will get that claim of his for asong--and then forget the singing part. Have you any idea why he wentback to Gold Hill after he had just come from there. "

"No, sir. That was the night"--and a flicker of a smile crossed Merry'sface--"when I went out to the Bar Z Ranch, and before I had left Ididn't know he had gone. "

"Hum!" Mr. Bradlaugh sat back in his chair and peered into the vaporthat floated above his head. "Boys, " said he, when he finally loweredhis eyes, "I have a feeling that some one is trying to victimize thisprofessor of yours; in other words, that evil forces are at work toswindle him out of his claim, or, perhaps, to get it in some way evenmore desperate. I don't want to alarm you unnecessarily, but it's thepart of wisdom to consider this matter in the worst light possible, andthen to go to work alon g that line. If we're mistaken in ourconclusions, well and good. Better that, you know, than to think nothingis wrong, to let matters drift, and then to find that the professor hasbeen swindled or"--he hesitated--"or that he has disappeared, never toreturn. "

All three of the boys at that gave a jump of consternation. 

"Great Scott!" exclaimed Clancy, "you don't have any idea that theharmless old fossil has been put out of the way?"

"No, " was the reply; "and yet there are people who would put him out ofthe way, if, by so doing, they could show up with a quitclaim deed tothat wonderfully rich gold mine. If the professor were gone for good, you see, no one would appear to question the validity of the legaldocument. Such things have been done. I mention it in this case merelyas a possibility. Then, again, we have to consider it as a case of mereswindling The professor, I think, could easily he victimized. My mosthopeful view is this: that Borradaile has simply gone off somewhere, without any plotters tagging to his heel, and that he will presenthimself in due course with the claim still in his possession. It isbest, though, to put the worst construction on his absence; then, if mylast theory proves correct, we shall all be happily disappointed. "

Frank drew a deep breath. 

"I haven't felt like butting into the prof's affairs too much, " said he, "until I hear from dad. "

"I think you're amply warranted in going ahead and looking for him, "said Bradlaugh. 

"Sure. What would you do, Mr. Bradlaugh? Go over to Gold Hill and try topick up some clews there?"

"That might be advisable; just at present, however, I have another lineof investigation in mind. I don't suppose you have forgotten NickPorter, the old prospector who took you out to the deserted camp in thePicket Posts?"

Clancy began to laugh. 

"It's a cinch, " said he, "that we'll never forget old Silent Porter andhis whisky bottle. I suppose he used the fifty dollars Chip paid him togrubstake himself, and that he's now, in the deserts looking for amine?"

"That's what he wanted the fifty for, " answered Bradlaugh, "but after hegot it he seems to have delayed going into the hills. Next day after youlads got back from Happenchance, Porter went to Gold Hill. The spree hehad there on that fifty has been the talk of the town. He's adisreputable old chap when in his cups, and I'm wondering if he knowsanything about Borrodaile's disappearance. "

"By Jove!" exclaimed Merry. "I wouldn't put it past him any. He was withus when we came back from Happenchance, and I remember now just how helooked when he saw a sample of the wire-gold ore. "

"He was ready to throw a fit, " said Ballard, "because he had been allthrough the Picket Post range and had never found any gold there. I'llbet a farm you can nail this thing to Nick Porter. "

"Don't be hasty about that, " warned Bradlaugh. "It's only a theory, andI believe every man ought to be considered as honest until he proveshimself otherwise. Porter is merely a subject for investigation, that'sall. "

"Then, " said Frank promptly, "we'll go over to Gold Hill this very nightand begin investigating him. "

"You won't have to go to Gold Hill. I've heard from our super at themine that Porter returned here this afternoon, looking a good deal theworse for wear. After supper you can visit the mine and have a talk withthe prospector. You'll know what angle to give your investigations, Merriwell. "

"But he may pull out for the hills while we're delaying here in town!"

"He'll have to get money for another grubstake before he goes any moreprospecting. Even if he has the money--which is hardly possible--thesuper, on my orders, will delay him if he tries to leave. "

Here was a sample of Mr. Bradlaugh's thoughtfulness which Merry deeplyappreciated. 

"We'll be at the mine this evening, Mr. Bradlaugh, " said he, "and ifPorter knows anything about the professor's absence, we'll do our bestto find out what it is. "

"My car would be at your disposal, but just now it's in the repairshop, " went on Mr. Bradlaugh. "There are a couple of motor cycles at themine, though, if you find it necessary to go anywhere in a hurry. Pardo, the super, will be glad to let you take the machines. "

Frank thanked Mr. Bradlaugh for the offer, and started to leave. 

"Just a moment, " said the older man. "How did the boys shape up in thepractice game?"

"Fine!" Merriwell answered. 

"I suppose after you have located the professor and extricated him fromany troubles he may have fallen into, you'll do your best to give us aneleven that will make the Gold Hillers eat crow instead of turkey forThanksgiving?"

There was a twinkle in Mr. Bradlaugh's eyes as he spoke. 

"I'll do what I can, Mr. Bradlaugh, " Merry answered; "you may depend onthat. "

"I am depending on it. It seems to me that the son of the greatestbaseball pitcher and football half back Yale ever produced is wellqualified to give Ophir a winning eleven. Good luck to you and yourfriends, Merriwell. Wind tip this business of the professor's as soon asyou can and then get back on the football job. If I can help you in anyway, call on me. "

As Frank, after murmuring further thanks, was about to step through theoffice door, Woo Sing, roustabout Chinaman at the Ophir House, steppedup on the porch with a yellow envelope in his hand. 

"Whoosh!" gabbled Woo Sing, his parchmentlike face splitting in a widegrin, "my lookee fo' you, Missul Melliwell. "

"Is that telegram for me?" demanded Frank. 

"Allee same, " answered the Chinaman, passing it over. 

Frank tore open the envelope and read the message then, with a longwhistle, he returned to put it in Mr. Bradlaugh's hands. Mr. Bradlaughread as follows:

"FRANK MERRIWELL, JUNIOR, Care Ophir House, Ophir, Ariz. , via Gold Hill:

 "Good work! Watch Borradaile carefully. Don't let him out of your sight. Important. Letter on the way. 

 "YOUR FATHER. "

Mr. Bradlaugh also gave a long whistle as he sank back in his chairthoughtfully and with the message in his hand. 

CHAPTER III. 

PORTER SHOWS HIS TEETH. 

It was eight o'clock in the evening when Merry, Clancy, and Ballardreached the mine and went hunting for the office of Pardo, thesuperintendent. 

The surface activities of a big gold mine, in full operation at night, are as weird as they are interesting. The boys were deeply impressed asthey looked down into the valley where the mining, milling, andcyaniding were going on. 

The stamp mill, where the ore was pounded to powder and robbed of itsgold, was a huge, ramshackle structure. Although it had a framework ofheavy timbers, yet the strong skeleton was but loosely covered withboards. Through wide cracks and many gaps in the sides of the building aflood of light poured out, and the thunder of a hundred stamps filledthe camp. 

Glimmering lights dotted the shadowy depths of the valley--some shiningthrough the windows of rough dwellings and others moving about in thehands of workers. From the open door of, a blacksmith shop poured ayellow glow from a forge, and against the roar of the stamps arose themusical clink of hammer on anvil. 

This blacksmith shop happened to be the first building the boy passed onentering the camp. They stopped and asked the smith where they wouldfind the superintendent's office. The brawny fellow turned from theanvil, stepped to the door, and pointed. 

"There's the super's office, younker, " he said to Frank, "where ye seethem two lights close together. Mebby he's there, an' mebby he's over totown; anyways, the assistant super is on deck. "

A person had to shout in order to make himself heard in the steadytumult of the mill. Frank bawled his thanks, and he and his two comradespressed on toward the twin lights indicated by the blacksmith. 

These lights, it was presently discovered, came through two windows of asmall office building. A man was sitting out in front, tiltedcomfortably back in a chair and smoking a pipe. He was a vague figure inthe shadows, and the visitors could not see very much of him. 

"Is this Mr. Pardo's office?" Frank inquired, stepping close to the manand lifting his voice. 

"You've struck it, " was the sociable rejoinder. 

"Are you Mr. Pardo, the superintendent?"

"Strike two, my lad. "

"Well, my name's Merriwell, and I--"

"And you've come here for a talk with that old hassayamper, NickPorter!" finished Pardo. "Mr. Bradlaugh has put me next. " The superlaughed. "I suppose you know what a brilliant talker the prospector is?"

Unless violently agitated, about the only audible sound Porter ever madewas a grunt. 

"We know all about that, " Frank answered. 

"Well, " continued the super, "after the way he went off the handle inGold Hill he seems to be less talkative than usual. And less audible, "he added. "Whenever he bobs up in Ophir he makes it a rule to hang outin this camp, mainly because one of our crusherman on the night shift isan old friend of his. But he's a crusty old curmudgeon, and I neverhanker much to have him around. He's up in the head of the mill with JoeBosley now. Come on, Merriwell, and I'll show you and your friends whereto find this precious prospector. "

The obliging superintendent got out of his comfortable chair and startedalong a camp trail that led up a steep incline. Along the top of therise showed one side of the mill glowing ruddily against the night sky. 

Here there was a long, elevated platform upon which ore from the minewas unloaded. A man could be seen moving spectrally around and shovelingore into a crusher set in the mill wall. 

Pardo paused, halfway up the low hill and drew Merriwell toward him. 

"That's Bosley, the crusherman, " said he. "He'll tell you where you canfind Porter. Bring the prospector to my office, if you like. It isn'tquite so noisy as the mill, and you can talk to better advantage. "

The super turned and went back. Frank and his friends moved on to theore platform, jumped to the top of it, and yelled their query at Bosley. 

"Nick?" the crusherman bawled, leaning for a moment on his shovel, andappraising the boys as well as he could. "Oh, he's communin' withhimself in the feed loft. Right through that hole, " he finished, pointing to an opening in the wall, "and down the steps. "

Frank led the way through the opening, and, at the foot of the steps, heand his chums found themselves in a small inferno. The bright, shimmering stems of twenty batteries, each of five stamps, were markingtime before their eyes like, a row of steel soldiers. Each stamp weighedeight hundred and fifty pounds, and it rose and fell ninety-five timesto the minute. The uproar was steady and deafening. 

Ore feeders were shoveling crushed ore into the stamp hoppers. Frank'seyes ranged over the sweating, seminude, powerful figures as theyworked. He could see nothing of Nick Porter. 

While Frank's eyes were searching the loft, Clancy nudged him with anelbow. Frank turned, and Clancy made signs and pointed. Looking in thedirection indicated by Clancy's finger, Frank saw the slouching form ofPorter, the prospector. 

He was sitting on a keg in an angle of the wall. He was leaning backagainst the boards behind him, a cob pipe between his teeth. His eyes, peering out of the jungle of beard that covered his face, were fixedspeculatively on the three boys. 

Merry immediately stepped to the prospector's side. "Hello, Porter!" heyelled in his ear. 

The prospector probably grunted, although Frank could hear nothing. 

"I want to talk with you for a few minutes, " Merry went on, in a mannercalculated to disarm any suspicions Porter may have had. "Come up to thesuper's office, will you?"

He stepped back. The prospector sat still on the keg for a moment, thenslowly knocked the ashes from his pipe and stood up. Frank wascongratulating himself that Porter was to make for Pardo's officewithout any further persuasion; but in this he was mistaken. 

Clancy stood on the prospector's right, Merry in front of him, andBallard on the left--between the spot where, Porter was standing and theopening that led into the feed loft. The prospector slipped his pipeinto his pocket, moving in a slow, sluggish way that suggestedweariness. 

He was not weary, however. Suddenly, without warning of any sort, he putout one arm and threw Clancy sideways, so that he fell over a heap ofcrushed stone. Another moment and Porter had leaped for a flight ofstairs and had vanished downward into the body of the mill. 

It was all so quickly done that Frank was taken by surprise. The thoughtflashed through his mind that Porter, unless he knew something aboutProfessor Borrodaile and suspected why the boys were there, would not beshowing his teeth in that fashion. An instant after the prospector haddisappeared down the stairs, Frank jumped after him. Ballard followedclose on Frank's heels; and Clancy, hastily picking himself up, stifledan exclamation of anger and rushed after Ballard. 

The stairs led down to the floor where the boxes were placed, and wherethe plates, whose silver recovered the gold from the ore, stretched thelength of the mill. Amalgamators and batterymen were going and comingthrough all the pounding racket of this part of the establishment, butthe prospector had somehow managed to lose himself. 

So suddenly and completely had Porter disappeared that it seemed littleshort of magical. Frank took three or four steps from the foot of thestairs, peering along the row of plates covered with dirty water fromthe battery boxes, and looking back into the shadowy recesses under theore loft. 

He was asking himself if Porter would have had time to get away into thedarkness back of the batteries, when a red-shirted amalgamator steppedto his side. 

"Lookin' fer Porter?" he yelled. 

Frank nodded. 

"He ducked out o' the door yonder, " and the amalgamator, with a jerk ofhis thumb, indicated an opening that led out into the night. 

Ballard was nearest the door. He had heard the amalgamator, and whirledlike lightning and dashed out of the mill and into the darkness. 

Frank was tight at his heels, while Clancy brought up the rear of thelittle file of pursuers. The noise was not so deafening outside themill, but the boys were blinded temporarily by their quick transitionfrom the bright glow of the mill to the outer gloom. They stared aroundthem, but could see nothing of the prospector. 

Ballard, however, heard something or other which gave him a clew. "Thisway!" he shouted. 

Frank heard his chum's feet swiftly crunching the sand and gravel, andfollowed the sound. In a moment or two his vision cleared somewhat andhe was able to see several rows of huge wooden tanks. A plank inclineled to the top of one row, and Ballard could be distinguished racing upthe incline. Beyond Ballard, traveling at speed over a plank gangwaythat spanned the tanktops, was a burly figure silhouetted against thelighter gloom of the night. With a shout to Clancy, Merriwell hustledafter Ballard. 

Those tanks were part of the cyanide plant, wherein the refuse of themill was treated with deadly cyanide of potassium for recovering whatlittle gold was left after the refuse, or "tailings, " had come from thestamp mill. 

The cyanide plant, presumably, was familiar ground to Porter, whereasthe boys had never seen it before. In the gloom the prospector couldnavigate across the big vats with something like accuracy, while theboys carried on their pursuit at a tremendous disadvantage. 

Recklessly Ballard ran on. Merriwell called a warning to him, butBallard either did not hear it or else paid no attention. 

The form of the prospector, leaping and plunging onward, sprang from onerow of vats to another. Each row was a little lower than the row to thenorth, so that the tiers took on the form of a flight of giant steps. 

Porter gained the top tier, and stood for a moment on a plank spanning avat that was three or four times as large as any of the others. Ballardclimbed to the same plank. Porter dropped down with a savage, snarlingcry. Clinging for a moment to the edge of the tank, he twisted the plankfrom under Ballard's feet. Ballard dropped with a splash. 

"Merciful powers!" yelled a voice in wild alarm. "Get him out, quick!That's the solution tank and is filled with cyanide!"

Merriwell's heart almost stopped beating. In a gleam of light from themill he saw the white, drawn face of Pardo peering toward the spot whereBallard was splashing in the deadly cyanide solution. An instant laterhe bounded to the rescue. 

CHAPTER IV. 

A CLOSE CALL. 

Just one thing saved Ballard from going over his head into the cyanidesolution, and that was this: Porter had not twisted the plank off therim of the tank, but had manipulated it in such a way as to causeBallard to lose his footing and drop into the poisonous liquid beneath. As Ballard dropped, he flung out his arms, seized the plank, and so kepthead and shoulders out of the cyanide. Had he gone under or swallowedeven a few drops of the deadly stuff, that pursuit of the savageprospector would have had a tragic termination. Ballard, kicking aroundin the solution, was trying to drag himself up on the plank as Merrycrept toward him. 

"Steady there, Pink!" called Frank. "Don't splash the stuff around, andkeep out of it as much as you can. It's a deadly poison. "

"Never mind me, " cried, Ballard. "Keep after that confounded prospectorHe'll get away if you don't. "

"You first, old chap, " Frank answered. "It has a scurvy trick Porterplayed on you, and--and it might have resulted fatally. Now, then!"

Gripping his chum by the arms, Frank heaved him upward until he was onhis knees on the plank. 

"Want any help?" came the agitated voice of Clancy, from just below thesolution tank. 

"No, " answered Merriwell, "we're making it all right. "

"Drop him over the side, " called Pardo, "here, over in this direction. There's a tank of clear water next to the solution vat, and the quickeryour friend rinses that cyanide out of his clothes, the better. "

"Oh, hang the cyanide!" shouted Ballard. "I was only half into thestuff, anyhow. Stop Porter, if you can. The brute is guilty of somethingor he wouldn't act like that. "

"Drop into that tank of water, Pink, " ordered Merry, "or I'll throw youin. "

Ballard, without further discussion, lowered himself down into thereservoir of water that supplied the mill and kicked around in it for afew moments; then, drawing himself up on the rim of the vat, he jumpedoff to the ground at the superintendent's side. Merry and Clany quicklyjoined him. 

"Say, " cried the startled Pardo, grabbing Ballard by the arm, "did youswallow any of the solution?"

"How could I?" was the answer. "I only went in to the waist. "

"Got any cuts or sores on the lower part of your body?"

"No. "

"By gorry. " declared Pardo, "you're a lucky kid all right. Cyanide ofpotassium is the most virulent poison known. If a person scratches hisfinger on the tin in opening a case, and gets some of the solution inthe cut, in less than fifteen minutes he's a goner. You don't know, son, how much you've got to be thankful for. "

Now that it was all over, and Ballard was beginning to realize howdeadly was the bath in which he had been plunged, a few cold shiversstarted up and down his spine. 

"My skin is getting up and walking all over me with cold feet, " said he. "I've got to warm up, and right now there's only one thing I want, andthat is to get my hands in Porter's whiskers and twist his neck. Let'shotfoot it around and see if we can find him. "

"This way, my lads, " shouted Pardo. "If the thing has happened that I'vegot in my mind, there's no use in hunting around this camp for theprospector. We'll find out in a brace of shakes. "

With Pardo leading the way, the boys ran to a corral on the other sideof the camp. Pardo stopped. The corral gate was swinging open. 

"That looks, " he commented, "as though some one had taken out a horse ina hurry. I'll just go in and see if Porter's horse is tied in its usualplace. If it isn't, why, we can make up our minds that--"

Just at that moment a man approached from the corral. The boys jumpedforward instinct spelled by the thought that it might be Porter. But itwas not. 

"That you, Cummins?" called the super. 

"Yep, Pardo, it's Cummins, " was the answer. 

"Seen anything of Nick Porter?"

"Jest about. Say, Nick Porter stormed in here a minute ago, got the gearon his bronk in record time, an' was off and away afore I could gitclose enough to find out what was up. "

"Which way did he go?" demanded Frank. "Toward town?"

"Nary. I rushed around the corral jest in time to see him p'intin' forPete Loco's, which is right the other way from town. "

"He's made a get-away, boys, " said Pardo, "and you might as well givehim up. "

"We're not going to give him up, " Frank answered decidedly. "We've gotto keep after him, and run him down. It's--it's important. "

"Well, now, " protested the super, "you'd better think twice about that. Porter has shown that he won't stop at anything. He don't want to talkwith you, does he? He's shown his teeth once; next time he does thathe'll probably bite, and bite hard. "

"We'll look out for ourselves, " put in the impatient Clancy. "He's thefellow we want, Chip. Why did he turn on us as he did if he hasn't aguilty mind?"

"You think, " spoke up Pardo, "that he knows what has become of yourfriend, the professor? Mr. Bradlaugh told me, over the phone, " heexplained, "why you wanted to talk with Porter. "

"It's a cinch, strikes me, " answered Merry, "that Porter can tell ussomething about the missing prof. Wouldn't you figure it out that way, Mr. Pardo?"

"Well, yes, " acknowledged the superintendent. "I don't know but I would. What I'm trying to get at is this: Old Nick Porter has proved that heisn't a safe proposition for you boys to tackle. "

"You don't know us, Mr. Pardo, " laughed Clancy. "That wasn't a fairshake the prospector gave us on top of those cyanide tanks. We ought tokeep right after him. If we come close, we'll land on him by strategy. "

"That's the talk, Red!" approved Ballard, through his chattering teeth. "I'll furnish the strategy, if Chip should fall down on it. Let's get tomoving. Three horses, Mr. Pardo, if you can spare 'em. "

"You haven't the slightest notion where Porter is going, " said thesuper, plainly disapproving the plan of the boys to follow Porter, andmarshaling every argument he could against it. 

"Where can he go along that trail toward Pete Loco's?" returned Frank. "There are only two places the trail leads to--one is Loco's and theother is McGurvin's. The trail stops at McGurvin's. "

"We haven't a horse for you. All that's left in the corral is theprospector's pack burro. "

"How about the two motor cycles?" Frank asked. "Mr. Bradlaugh said youhad a couple of the machines here, and that we would be welcome to themif we found they'd come handy. "

"Well, yes, " said Pardo, "I've got the motor cycles. If you insist ongoing after the prospector, you can take them. But they'll only carrytwo--one of you will have to stay behind. "

"We'll draw straws, Red and I, to see who stays, " chattered Ballard. 

"No, you won't, " cut in Merry firmly. "Pink, you've done enough for onenight, and have thrown a scare into me that I won't get over in a hurry. You want to warm up, and the best way for you to do that is to sprintfor town, kick off those cyanide-soaked clothes, and get into bed. "

"Now look here, " Ballard protested, "I'm just as able to go on with thischase as either you or Red. I've got an ax of my own to grind, too. Remember, Chip, I'm the one that Porter dropped into the solution tank. The prospector owes me something for that. Let Clancy go back to thehotel--"

"You're as wet as a drowned rat, Pink, " struck in Clancy, "and if youdon't go back to town Chip and I will worry our heads off about you. "

"Oh, yes, you'll worry a lot, " derided Ballard. "The excitement is justbeginning, and I'm entitled to a little of it. "

"There are only two motor cycles, Pink, " argued Merry, "so only two ofus can go. "

"I'll ride the burro, " suggested Ballard desperately. 

"And we'd go to the Picket Posts and back while you were getting toLoco's, " laughed Clancy. "You for town, Pink. Don't hang back. Maybeyou'll dream some more. "

"You go to blazes, " growled Ballard, seeing that the argument wasalready decided against him and that his protests were only delaying thepursuit. 

"Where are the machines, Mr. Pardo?" asked Merry. 

"This way, " the super answered, and led the boys to an adobe storehousenot far from the corral. 

The motor cycles proved to be twin-cylinder, highpowered machines. 

"They're loaded with gasoline and oil, " said Pardo, "for we always keepthem in trim for an emergency. "

The gas lamps attached to the front of the motor cycles were lighted, and two penciled gleams searched out the ground far in advance. 

"Porter has a good, long start of us, " remarked Clancy, an exultant notein his voice, "but on these buzz buggies we ought to be able to travel adozen yards to his one. "

"I don't know whether I ought to let you go, " said Pardo. "I'd go on oneof the machines myself if the assistant superintendent wasn't away sothat I am needed here. What will Mr. Bradlaugh say?"

Merriwell laughed at the super's foolish fears. 

"Mr. Bradlaugh knows us better than you do, Mr. Pardo, " he answered, "and he'll say you did just right to let us have the machines and takeup the chase where we dropped it at the cyanide tanks. "

Merry, astride his wheel, was cranking with the pedals. The engine beganto pop and sputter and was finally crooning its steady song of speed. Clancy had likewise turned his own engine over. 

"I wish you luck, anyhow, " said Pardo. 

"We'll find that golden trail of yours, Pink, " joked Clancy, "and bringyou one of the nuggets as a souvenir. "

"Just bring back your scalp, Red, " answered Ballard. "That's all thesouvenir I want. "

Frank dropped a foot and give his Machine a hunch forward. The pneumatictires touched ground, the iron rests folded up automatically, and hestarted through the gloom toward the trail that led to Pete Loco's. Amoment later Clancy darted after him. 

CHAPTER V. 

ON TO HAPPENCHANCE. 

The boys were not long in discovering that the two motor cycles theywere riding were fine machines. With the searchlights boring long holesin the dark, Merry and Clancy seemed fairly to fly over the trail. Itseemed to them as though they had hardly started before the mass of deepshadow which marked the location of Loco's adobe lay almost in front ofthem on the right. 

The house was dark. Frank, after getting out of the saddle, examined hiswatch under the lamp. 

"Ten o'clock, " he announced to Clancy. "The Loco family must all be inbed, Clan. "

"Rout some one out, Chip, " said Clan, "and see if you can pick up anynews. While you're doing that I'll skirmish around and see if there is arecently ridden horse at Pete's hitching pole or in his corral. "

Frank crossed the open space that lay between the road and the adobe anddrummed on the front door with his knuckles. After two or three attemptshe succeeded in arousing some one who demanded to know what was wanted. 

"I want a word with Pete Loco. " Frank called. 

The door was unbolted and drawn open, revealing a swarthy-visaged man inshirt and trousers, holding a candle. 

"What in blazes d'ye want?" asked the man with the candle in no verypleasant tone. "I'm Pete Loco. "

"Any visitors staying with you to-night, Mr. Loco, " Frank inquired. 

"I reckon not! Think this here's a hotel?"

"I'm looking for a prospector named Porter. The last we saw of him hewas coming in this direction. "

"Nick Porter? He's over to the mine. Seen him there this afternoon. "

"He's not there now. He left the mine and came this way. "

"Well, I haven't seen him, an' he ain't here. "

With that Pete Loco shut the door, and Frank could hear him shoot thebolt. Turning away, Frank met Clancy just coming around the corner ofthe house. 

"Loco says he doesn't know anything about our man, Clancy, " reportedFrank. 

"I guess he's telling the truth, Chip, " Clancy replied. "I can't findany extra live stock around, and it's hardly possible, anyhow, thatPorter would stop such a short distance from the mine. It's a safe betthat he's gone on to McGurvin's. "

Frank was in a quandary. 

"This adobe, " said he, "is at the forks of the trail. One branch goes tothe mine and Ophir, and the other leads to Gold Hill. It's just possiblethat Porter took the Gold Hill fork and didn't go on to McGurvin's. "

"He wouldn't do that, Chip. " Clancy answered. "If he had wanted to go toGold Hill he would have turned north from the mine and taken the shorterroad through Ophir. "

"Unless, " Frank qualified, "he had reasons for not wanting to passthrough Ophir. Porter might have thought that we would use the telephoneif he went that way, and have some one stop him. "

"Tell you what we can do, " Clancy suggested, taken somewhat with Merry'slogic and yet not quite satisfied to recede from his own position, "wecan go on to McGurvin's; then, if we don't overhaul Porter on the road, or pick up any clews at McGurvin's, we can come back and take the GoldHill fork from here. We can get over the ground like an express trainwith these machines, and can ride circles all around that horse thatcarried the prospector away from the mine. "

"Good!" agreed Frank. "We'll see how long it will take us to get toMcGurvin's. It's only seven or eight miles. "

"Hit 'er up, Chip, " cried the red-headed chap; "you won't find me takingany of your dust. "

Once more they got their machines in motion along the trail. The goingwas none too good, and Merry got his machine going at a pace that mighthave been reckless had not the brilliant, far-flung rays of thesearchlight laid the way so clearly before his eyes. 

"That the best you can do?" called Clancy, whirring along at his chum'sside. 

"This will do, " Frank answered. "We're not on a boulevard, remember. "

Clancy gave a laugh of sheer exhilaration, for the thrill of that wilddash through the night and across the desert was in his veins. 

"We'll be running Porter down before we can see him, Chip, " he called, the wind of their flight casting his words behind him in splinteringechoes. 

But Merriwell had no fear of that. If Nick Porter had ridden hard, hewould already have had time to cover the distance between the mine andMcGurvin's. 

McGurvin's ranch was the last place, short of Happenchance in the PicketPost Mountains, where water could be secured. Surely, if Porter had comethat way, he would stop at the ranch. He had left the mine too hurriedlyto equip himself with water canteens and rations for a prolonged stay inthe desert. Frank's hopes were mounting high as the motor cyclesdevoured the distance that separated their riders front McGurvin's. 

At last, in fifteen or twenty minutes--certainly less than half anhour--the mad pace was slowed as the destination hove duskily intosight. A yellow gleam showed at one of the windows of the ranch house, and suggested that the proprietor might be entertaining a caller. 

The machines were halted at a little distance from the dwelling, andMerry stole forward to reconnoiter, ere announcing himself in person toMcGurvin. There was no curtain at the window through which shone thelamp-light, and the lad crept up to it and looked into the room. Onlyone man was visible, and that was the ranch owner himself. He sat by atable, reading. 

"I guess we're off the track, Roper, " said Frank, rejoining Clancy. "Ican't see any one but McGurvin through the window, and he's spelling outthe news in a paper. If Porter was there, he and McGurvin wouldcertainly be together. "

"Not so certainly, Chip. " answered Chancy. "Let's look in the corral fora tired horse. If we find one, then surely it's Porter's, and Porter hasgot into the house and gone to bed. "

Only one horse and a burro were found, and the horse showed no evidenceof recent hard riding. Frank was deeply puzzled. 

"If the prospector came this way, " said he, "there would be nothing elsefor it but for him to stop here. He wouldn't dare go on into the desertwithout foot and water. "

"Possibly he stopped, got what he wanted, and went on, " Clancy hazarded. 

"No, Clan. We can't be much more than half an hour from the mine; if wesuppose that Porter had a full hour the start of us--it couldn't havebeen more than that--then he had only an hour and a half to ride here, and no time to pick up food and water and push his tired horse on intothe desert. We'd better go back to Loco's and take the fork to GoldHill. "

"Let's not be in a rush, Chip. Now that we're here, we'd better find outwhat McGurvin has got to say. "

"Of course, " Frank returned, "we'll have a word or two with the rancherbefore we turn back. "

The rancher was not surprised to have visitors drop in on him at thathour. The better part of his income was derived from the sale of water, brought up from his well by burro power, to prospectors and others whohappened along that way. Such customers were liable to straggle in fromany quarter at any hour. 

"'Pears mighty like I've seen you fellers some place before, " said therancher, staring hard at the boys. "Say, " and his face cleared, "wasn'tyou along this way a few days ago with Barzy Blunt an' some more, runnin' some fool race or other. "

He referred to the "relay Marathon, " which Frank and his chums had runagainst Blunt and his cowboy friends, to file in Gold Hill a locationnotice of Borrodaile's claim. 

"Yes, " smiled Frank, "we're the fellows. "

"Well, sufferin' Mike!" guffawed McGurvin. "Sot down an' be sociable, can't ye?"

"We're in something of a hurry, McGurvin, " Frank went on, "and can'tstop long. Do you know a prospector named Porter?"

McGurvin's face went blank, and he dug his fingers into his tousledhair. 

"Not Andy Porter, from up Phoenix way?" he asked. "Squints with his offeye, and walks with a limp?"

"No, " Frank answered, "this man is a big fellow, whiskers, ropy hair, gray eyes. "

"New one on me, " said McGurvin. 

"Then, you haven't seen anything of him?"

"Nary a thing. What's he done? Stole a hoss?"

"We don't know what he has done, McGurvin. All we want is to have a talkwith him. Can you spare us a couple of canteens, full of water, and abag of rations--enough for two or three meals?"

"Shore, " answered the rancher, "that's what I'm here fer. Dollar fer thewater in the canteens, an' two dollars fer the canteens; then anothertwo dollars fer the hand-out. Makes five, don't it?"

McGurvin had the reputation of being more or less of a robber. Having amonopoly of the water in that locality, he set his own prices, and didnot fear competition. 

"Five dollars is all right, McGurvin, " said Frank. 

"Blunt was out this way this afternoon, with a couple his pards, "remarked McGurvin, unaware of the bomb was exploding. "They watered up, rested a spell, an' hiked on to the Picket Posts. "

Merry was startled, but contrived not to show it. Clancy jumped, but hischum gave him a warning glance. 

"Hustle around and get those supplies for us, please, " urged Frank. "We're in a hurry. "

"Hosses to water?" queried the rancher, starting for a rear door. 

"No horses, McGurvin. 

"Ottermobile, I reckon, " deplored McCurvin. "If them things git toothick in the desert they'll be the ruination of me. I'll have yore stuffready in ten minutes. "

He went out through the door, Clancy leaped excitedly toward Merriwell. 

"What's on your mind now, Chip?" he whispered. "Why the grub and water?"

"I made up my mind, all of a sudden, to extend this of ours toHappenchance. "

"You're crazy!" gasped Clancy. "How can we find the way? It would behard enough in broad daylight, but at night we'd get all twisted up, andend by losing ourselves in the foothills. If we're going toHappenchance, Chip, we'd better camp right here until morning, thencross the rough country when we can see what we're about. "

"I had made up my mind to go on to-night, " Merry answered, "even beforeMcGurvin told us that about Barzy Blunt. "

"Gee, but that was a bombshell! What do you suppose Blunt is doing outthis way?"

"It's possible he may know something about the professor. Why did he goon to the Picket Posts? What business has Barzy Blunt got around the oldcamp of Happenchance, where the professor's claim is located? BeforeMcGurvin told us Blunt had gone in that direction, I had made up my mindthat we ought to take a look at the deserted town; now that I know Bluntis there. I am more anxious than ever to get to the place. "

"But what about Porter?"

"Where he has gone is a mystery, " said Merriwell, "but I think Blunt andhis cowboy friends offer a more promising clew to the prof'swhereabouts. We'll forget about Porter for the present, and give ourattention to Blunt. "

They talked in whispers for a short time longer, and then sat backsuddenly in their chairs as McGurvin came into the room with two filledcanteens and a small canvas bag of rations. 

Merry exchanged five silver dollars for the supplies, and then therancher followed the boys out and watched them while they started theirmachines. 

"A couple o' gasoline go-devils, by thunder!" muttered McGurvin. "Allkinds o' ways o' beatin' a man that sells water out o' his rights. If yedidn't have them contraptions, ye'd be shackin' along on a couple o'bronks, an my well 'u'd bring me in two bits a head fer each of 'em. "

The rancher was still sputtering as the boys raced off through thestarlight, heading into the desert. As soon as they were well away. McGurvin's wrath died in his throat, and he gave vent to a huskychuckle. 

"On ter Happenchance, or I'm a Piute!" he muttered jubilantly. "Go it, you crazy galoots--but I 'opine ye won't find what ye're a-lookin' fer. "

Still chuckling, he turned back into the house and pounded on astovepipe that ran through the ceiling and into a room overhead. 

"Have they gone, McGurvin?" came a muffled voice from above. 

"I reckon they have, Nick, " laughed the rancher; "they wentpippity-poppin' away, each of 'em on a couple o' wheels run bygasoline. "

"Where'd they go?"

"Happenchance, I reckon. Leastways, they headed inter the desert, p'intin' thataway. "

A satisfied grunt echoed from above. 

"Lucky I hitched yore bronk out in the scrub, " went on McGurvincomplacently. "I'll bet a-plenty them kids was nosin' around afore theycome in here. But they didn't find nothin', nary, they didn't. "

_"Buenas noches_, Mac, " called down the man upstairs, "I'm turnin' in. "

The words were followed by a faint echo of hoarse laughter. McGurvincaught up the sound with some heartiness as he locked the door, blew outthe light, and went groping through the dark for his own bed. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 

The entrance of Barzy Blunt into that mystifying tangle had been assudden as it was unexpected. And yet, knowing Blunt as he did, Merrywondered that he had not thought of the fellow before. 

Blunt was a young cow-puncher, who boasted of being a "homemade"athlete, and would take a back seat for nobody, least of all youngMerriwell. He was not exactly "cracked" on the subject of his prowess inathletic sports, but his views were certainly warped. Obsessed with theidea that it was his duty to take Merriwell down a peg. Blunt wascontinually, and in the most weird and wonderful ways, contriving toforce Merry into tests of strength and skill. 

Merry had shown Blunt his heels in a hundred-yard dash, and at leastonce had put him on his back in a catch-as-catch-can wrestling bout. Itwas at Blunt's suggestion that the relay Marathon was run, with theprofessor's claim as the prize: and it was by a plot of Blunt's thatMerry had been lured to the Bar Z Ranch, where, as Blunt had planned. Merry pitched against the cowboy in a baseball game. Frank and his chumshad won the relay Marathon and Frank had pitched his cowboy team tovictory. Yet Blunt still refused to be satisfied. 

The "Cowboy Wonder, " as Blunt called himself, had been reared by a manwho had implanted in his growing mind a vast array of false notions. Bythese, the Wonder regulated his conduct, with a result that wasludicrous at times, and at other times almost tragic. 

There was something about the queer fellow that young Merriwell liked. And yet, while he sympathized with Blunt to a certain extent, he wasforced to condemn his rashness and dare-devil behavior. 

"Clan. " said Merry, as he and his chums moved on into the tracklessdesert, "while I sat in McGurvin's adobe it flashed over me, all atonce, that we had forgotten something about Professor Borrodaile whichmight possibly explain his absence. "

"What was that?"

"Why, you remember how we left Happenchance in such a hurry, the time wewent to the place and found the prof?"

"We were chased out by Blunt and his puncher friends. "

"Not exactly. We were hurrying out ahead of them in order to reach theautomobile and beat Blunt to Gold Hill with the professor's locationnotice. Well we were in such a rush that Professor Borrodaile had toleave his luggage behind. Now, wouldn't it be the natural thing tosuppose that the prof returned to Happenchance after his goods andchattels?"

"Holy mackerel!" exclaimed Clancy. "You've nicked it, Chip! That's justwhat the harmless old fossil has done. He wanted his trunk, and heslipped out of Gold Hill and went after it. We're thick, all right. It'sa wonder that some of us didn't think of that earlier in the game. Ishouldn't be surprised if we found the prof back in his old place in theonly house left in Happenchance!"

"It's possible, " said Merry. "Anyhow, that's the idea that flashedthrough my mind as I sat talking with McGurvin. And that's the reason Icontracted for the canteens, the water, and the rations. Then, whenMcGurvin said what he did about Blunt, I was more anxious than ever tokeep on to Happenchance. "

"What do you think Blunt has got up his sleeve this time?"

"He's so full of wild ideas that there's no telling. If the professor isin Happenchance, then Blunt has some reason for following him there. "

"And out of it all, Chip. " declared Clancy, "there's going to come acontest of some sort between you and Blunt. The fellow's crazy on thesubject of getting the better of you in some feat of strength and skill. Can't he ever be satisfied?"

"Seems not, " Frank answered. "Sometimes I have a hunch that I ought tohang back and let Blunt make a winning. If that's what he wants, why nothumor him?"

"Not on your life!" protested Clancy promptly. "You've got to meet Bluntat every point, and trim him well. I think he's 'yellow, ' anyhow. "

"You and I will never agree on that, " said Merry. "There's good stuff inBarzy Blunt, and some day he's going to see the error of his way, andreform. When that happens, you'll find he has the making of an all-roundstar athlete. "

Clancy muttered something under his breath. Whatever it was it certaintywas not creditable to the Cowboy Wonder. 

"We're getting into the hills, " observed Clancy, shifting the subject, "and now, if we don't get lost, it will be because your bump of locationis a lot better than mine. "

Merry had the habit, at all times, of keen and careful observation, hehad made but one trip to the old camp of Happenchance, butcircumstances, at that time, had conspired to fix the route to it firmlyin his mind. He had gone to the lost town of the Picket Posts in theBradlaugh car, guided by Nick Porter, but he had ridden back toMcGurvin's on a horse, accompanying the runners in the first lap of therelay race. So he had been able to use his faculty of observation tosome purpose. 

Could he follow the course by night, with the mountains a constant guideby day, all but blotted out in the starlight? He believed he could; andnow the test of his confidence was at hand. 

His keen eyes watched the ground as it ruffled into low foothills. Although he laid a zigzag course as his searchlight brought cactusclumps and thorn bushes into view, in the main he succeeded in dodgingobstacles, and yet held to a fairly direct route. A mound of rocks, stark and almost shapeless in the gloom, guided him like a fingerboard;or a flat-topped hill, or a peculiar-shaped valley between two uplifts, set him on the right track. Mile by mile the black mountains camecloser, and then Clancy himself began to pick up a landmark or two whichhe recognized. 

"Chip, " he cried, "you're a wonder! Unless I'm badly mistaken, we justpassed the valley where we left the car when Porter led you, andBallard, and I into the gap that cuts through the mountain wall toHappenchance. "

"That was the valley, Clan, " replied Merriwell, "and there's nothingvery wonderful about getting back to it, either. It's just a matter ofminding your P's and Q's, and remembering a thing or two. We couldn'ttake the car through the gap, but I believe we can make it with thesemachines. We'll go around the hills instead of over them. "

Then began a sinuous weaving back and forth, following the seams in theuplifts and mounting steadily toward the narrow gap. The pace was slowand labored, but Frank unerringly traced the way until the motor-cylelamps flung their round, yellow eyes squarely into the fissure of themountain wall. 

"Maybe there isn't anything wonderful about this, " called Clancy, asFrank led the way into the narrow passage, "but--well, it gets my goat. Poor old Pink is missing the time of his life. Now, if we can findBorrodaile, and jog him into a realization of where he is and what hehas done, we'll just about make a good night's work of it. It's a reliefto know that the prof hasn't been in danger of being bunkoed out of hisgold mine. "

"We don't know that yet, " Frank called back over his shoulder. "Don'ttake too much for granted, Red. This move on Happenchance may be puttingus clear off the scent. "

"I'll bet something it isn't, " said Clancy, with supreme conviction. 

Emerging from the pass, the boys descended into a circular valley, inwhose center shapeless ruins covered all the old-time glories--such asthey were--of a once bustling mining camp. 

The searchlights pierced the vast heap of debris, and revealed thecluttered lane which had once been the town's main street. CarefullyFrank steered through the passage and came at last to a halt in front ofthe only four walls in the place that remained standing. Here was thebuilding in which they had discovered Professor Phineas Borrodaile, living alone in primitive surroundings and trying to imagine him self atroglodyte. 

"Hello, professor!" shouted Clancy. 

His voice echoed back and forth between the cliffs that rimmed thevalley, but brought no answer. 

"Not here!" he exclaimed, in a voice of profound disappointment. 

"You really expected that yell would bring him?" Frank asked. 

"I really did. Hang the luck! Say, Chip, I guess the theory won't holdwater. The prof is still mysteriously absent, after all. "

Merry had removed the lamp from his machine, and was standing in frontof the old door. It was swinging by one rusty hinge, and he pushed itwide open. 

"Look out for snakes, Chip!" warned Clancy. 

Cautiously the boys pushed through the doorway and into the room thatlay beyond. They looked around them, as Merry flashed the beam of lightover the ruinous walls. Instinctively a gasp of surprise escaped them. 

A cot had once stood at the side of the room, and there had been an oilstove in the place, and a shelf with some books, a chair, a trunk, and afew other odds and ends of primitive housekeeping. But now there wasnothing. Every object had been cleaned out of the place and only thebare walls remained. 

"Professor Borrodaile isn't here, Clan, " said young Merriwell presently. "But he has been here, and made off with his plunder, that's plain. Thequestion is where is the professor now?"

It was a startling discovery the boys had made; not in itself alone, butin the question to which it had given rise. 

CHAPTER VII. 

WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. 

Merry sat down on a chunk of adobe which had fallen out of the wall. Placing the lamp in the niche left by the chunk in its fall, he hookedup a knee between his hands, and grew thoughtful. Clancy found a seatfor himself, and waited for the result of his chum's reflections. Hewaited so long that he became impatient. 

"What's at the back of your head, Chip?" he asked. "There isn't a thingat the back of mine. "

Frank dropped his knee, and looked at his watch. 

"It's one o'clock in the morning, " said he. "Let's have lunch. "

"An ounce of grub is worth a pound of theory any old time, " said thered-headed fellow cheerfully. "I'll lug in the canteens and the chuckbag. "

He went out and returned with them, and he and Frank got busy with somesardine sandwiches, crackers, and cheese which McGurvin had provided fora "hand-out. " The water in the canteens was refreshing, and likewise thefare, rough though it was. 

"In the first place, Clan, " reasoned Merry, "we've got to consider thatit isn't exactly a cinch that Borrodaile has been here. It's probable, but not absolutely certain. Some desert Arab may have raided the placeand carted away his stuff. "

"Not likely, " returned Clancy, swallowing a mouthful of sandwich. As hewas about to take another bite, he had a thought that caused him to lookup quickly. "Unless, " he added. "Blunt and his friends did the looting. They came this way during the afternoon. They're not here now. Where arethey?"

Frank shook his head. 

"You might just as well ask where Porter is, or the prof, " said he. "It's hopeless to try to keep track of Barzy Blunt, or to figure outfrom what he's done, what he's going to do next. From what McGurvinsaid, I thought Blunt had come here with some of his friends. Maybe hedid. Possibly he collected the professor's goods and chattels and rodeoff with them. It isn't likely, though. Cow-punchers wouldn't be apt todo all that freighting on horseback. Would they take the trouble tobalance a cot across one of their horses and ride away with it? Or theprofessor's trunk? I guess Blunt and his friends wouldn't have much usefor the professor's plunder; so it's a fair surmise they didn't take it. Some one else did, that's evident. The testimony all points to theprofessor himself. "

"He left Gold Hill to come to Happenchance, " remarked Chancy. "Whydidn't he tell us about it? It couldn't have been such an awful secrethe had to keep it to himself. "

"It's a deuce of a hard thing to figure out, " said Merry. "I don't thinkwe ever will understand it until Borrodaile bobs up and clears away themystery himself. I've a hunch that Blunt is the key to this riddle ofthe professor's whereabouts. The Wonder may be somewhere around--thatis, if McGurvin wasn't lying. "

"You can bank on it, Chip, that a robber like McGurvin wouldn't tell thetruth if it was to his interest to tell something else. "

"He said he didn't know Nick Porter, a man who has been roaming thesedeserts all his life. If that's the truth, it's remarkable. "

"Now you're getting back to Porter again. I thought we had agreed to lethim go, and pin our faith to Barzy Blunt. "

"Blunt, I think, is our best bet. I merely rang in Porter to give you myestimate of McGurvin's truthfulness. Porter couldn't have been at theMcGurvin place, or we'd have found his horse. "

"That's so. " Clancy yawned. "I move we stay here all night and knockaround a little in the morning. A good deal of the night has gone, anyway, and I guess we can stick out the rest of it in Happenchance. What do you say?"

"It's important to locate the professor, " said Merry. "Dad's telegramputs that right up to us. Now that we're here, we'd better wait untilmorning and see if anything develops. We'll bring in the machines, hunta couple of soft rocks, and see if we can't get a little sleep. "

The motor cycles were trundled into the old house, the light put out, and the lads lay down on the old clay floor with lumps of broken adobefor pillows. In spite of the hard beds, the lack of even the most meagercomforts, both Merry and Clancy were soon asleep. 

Merry awoke, with a beam of sun in his eyes. He sat up, staringincredulously around him, and could hardly believe that several hourshad passed. The sun was shining into the old ruin through the hangingdoor. Merry looked over toward the spot where he had last seen his chum, and found that Clancy was also sitting up. 

"Top of the morning to you, Chip, " grinned Clancy. "How many lumps onyour backbone? I've counted a dozen on mine. This mattress was harderthan the one in our room at Pophagan's--and that's going some. Any newtheories this morning?"

"Haven't had time to think up any, " laughed Merry. "It doesn't seem morethan a minute since I put out the light and--er--turned in. What'shappened, since I closed my eyes, is a perfect blank. How about thatspring? It isn't big enough for a cold plunge, but we can duck ourheads. Maybe that will clear our brains a little. "

"Me for the spring!" cried Clancy, bounding to his feet. 

Leaving the old house, they hurried to the spring, which they hadlocated on their previous visit to Happenchance. The water was cool andclear, and the pool into which the water dripped was big enough for apartial ducking. Handkerchiefs served for towels, and there was a lot ofgood-natured joshing as the chums dabbed away at their dripping faces. 

"On the way back to the grub bag, " Clancy finally remarked, "I move thatwe make a detour by way of the ledge and the professor's mine. Let'smake sure, Chip, that the claim is still there. Maybe it has vanished, like the prof. "

The claim was found where it had been left, although some of the ore hadvanished. The shelf was gouged and disfigured as though some one had putdown a blast, blown a hole in the vein, and then taken away a lot of theore. 

"By Jove, " exclaimed Merry, "here's something else we might lay toBlunt. I don't think, though, that he'd come here and steal any of theprofessor's ore. "

"I've got my own ideas about that, " said Clancy. "Some one has beenhere, anyhow. Did the professor do this, when he came for his householdgoods?"

"He wouldn't know how to drill a hole, cap a fuse, and touch off a stickof giant powder. No, Clan, it wasn't Professor Borrodaile. The deeper weget into this business, the more complicated it becomes. "

The outcropping of ore was wonderfully rich. It was of the sort known aswire gold, and the rock was covered with a fuzzy yellow web of puremetal. What ore had been blown out by? the blast had been gathered upslick and clean. 

"A bagful of that stuff, " said Merry, "would mean a whole lot in dollarsand cents. Somebody has been 'high grading. '"

"And he dropped a little of his swag as he went off with it, " addedClancy, stepping off a few yards from the ledge and pointing to a bit ofore that lay on the ground. "There is some of the fellow's loot, " Clancywent on. "It lies gold side up, and shimmers in the sun like a doubleeagle. "

He looked at the sample for a few moments, and then slipped it into hispocket. 

"Finding is keeping, " he grinned. "This ought to pay you back, Chip, forthe five you gave McGurvin in exchange for stuff that was actually worthabout ten cents. "

Frank ran past Clancy for a couple of rods straight out into the valley. 

"It was a thundering bad leak, Clan, " he called, stooping down andgathering in another ore sample. "That makes two chunks of the stuff thethief lost. He was probably in a rush to get away, and didn't notice howthe ore was dribbling out. "

"Wait a minute, Chip, " said Clancy, "and let's figure this down as fineas we can. There are prints of a horse's hoofs along the course wherethis ore was dropped. Ballard ought to be here to do the Sherlock Holmesracket for us. I'm not very swift at this detective business, but I'lltake my oath the thief loaded his bag of loot on a horse. "

"You don't think, do you, " said Frank dryly, "that he'd carry a bagweighing two or three hundred pounds over his shoulder? Of course, hehad a pack animal. It wasn't a horse, though, but a burro. "

"How did you guess it was a burro?"

"Small hoofmarks. "

"Oh, scissors! Of course, of course! This claim of the professor's istoo valuable to be left unguarded. He ought to begin working it, or elsesell it to some one who'll see that it's taken care of. Let's take ourgold ore and make tracks for the chuck sack. I fell hungry, somehow. "

As they started across the valley, at a distance of perhaps a hundredfeet from the spot where Frank had picked up the second bit of ore, theyfound another. Fifty feet from that they found a fourth piece; and thenas they paused at the lane leading through the heart of the ruined camp, their eyes, wandering toward the took-in one glittering point afteranother--each point a scrap of wire gold, glimmering in the sun. 

"The thief left a trail, " exclaimed Merry, "from ledge directly to thegap. "

"And how much farther, Chip?" asked Clan excitedly. "Say, maybe we canfollow that trail and find where the fellow went!"

It was a startling proposition, and yet one that might be easilydemonstrated. 

"We'll try it, " said Frank, "but not till after breakfast. Come on, Clan, and we'll take another fall out of our rations; then ho, for thegolden trail!"

As Merry spoke, a queer idea popped suddenly into his mind. He stoppedshort and stared at Clancy. The latter evidently was fired with the samenotion. 

"Ballard's dream!" muttered Clancy, rubbing a hand over his wet hair. "Hang it all, Chip, this is quite a jolt to a fellow who isn't at allsuperstitious. The golden trail! Why, Pink saw it three times handrunning, in his sleep!"

CHAPTER VIII. 

WHERE THE GOLDEN TRAIL LED. 

Merriwell was not superstitious, and had no patience with any one whowas. He was forced to admit, however, that a strange coincidence haddeveloped in the matter of Ballard's dream and the discovery that hadjust been made. 

"Pink dreamed of nuggets as big as washtubs, " said the marveling Clancy, "and they were arranged like stepping-stones, and stretched from theprofessor's claim to Gold Hill. "

By that time, Merry had got himself in hand. He laughed softly. 

"Yes, Clan, " said he, "I remember. These pieces of ore are not nuggets, however, and if the whole golden trail was raked together, I don'tbelieve it would come anywhere near filling even a small-sized washtub. And I'll bet the trail doesn't lead from here to Gold Hill. "

"In the dream, " went on Clancy, "Pink saw a gang of toughs chasing theprof along the row of nuggets. "

"Which is about as consistent as dreams usually are. If ProfessorBorrodaile wanted to get away from the toughs, why did he keep on hisyellow stepping-stones? Why didn't he duck aside and hide in the bushes?All foolishness, Clan. Let's go and eat. "

Making their way back to Professor Borrodaile's old lodgings, the boysate a hurried breakfast. They were thrilled with the novel idea offollowing the trail of ore, and, perhaps, of overtaking the thief. 

"The fellow, whoever he is, " said Clancy, "may be able to tell ussomething about the professor. "

"Everybody we run across out here is liable to be mixed up with theprof's disappearance, " answered Merry. 

Before starting, the two motor cycles were gone over carefully. Only asmall amount of attention was needed to put them in trim for themorning's work. At last, with their canteens freshly filled and hungacross their shoulders, and the dwindling bag of rations secured toClancy's machine, they got clear of the old ruins and made their startalong the golden trail. 

The scattered ore led upward and through the gap, then out on thefarther side and into the foothills. Nor did the trail, after gettingaway from the circular valley, point toward Gold Hill. On the contrary, it bent in the opposite direction. 

"Here's where the facts knock another hole in Ballard's dream, " saidFrank. "Gold Hill is northwest of us, and the ore takes us southeast. "

"We haven't any gasoline to waste, Chip, " remarked Clancy, "and if we govery far in this direction we're liable to get hung up in the desertwith a couple of dead engines. "

"The reservoirs were still when we left the mine, Clan, and I guess, ifwere careful, we can make the round trip without having to walk part ofthe way. If the golden trail promises to lead us too far, we'll hide themachines somewhere and go over some of it on foot:"

The man with the burro and the leaky ore bag had naturally hunted forthe easiest way through the hills. His devious course bothered the boysa little in keeping track of the pieces of dropped ore. The pieces layon the ground at irregular intervals. Sometimes there would be twosamples within three or four yards of each other, and then perhaps theboys would have to go three or four hundred feet before they foundanother. At such times the hoofmarks of the burro served as a guide. 

"That thief is a mighty careless sort of a man, " said Clancy. "It's awonder he didn't notice what was going on, and stop the leak. "

"Strikes me, " answered Merry, "that he walked, and led the burro. Ifthat was the case he wasn't in a position to see that the loot wasgetting away from him. "

For at least a mile the golden trail zigzagged through the foothills. Finally it came out on a level stretch of ground, partly covered with achaparral of greasewood, ironwood, and paloverde. 

Frank had been noticing for several minutes that the single set of burrotracks had grown into a veritable clutter of hoofprints. A good many ofthe prints were large enough to suggest that horses had passed over thegolden trail. 

Merry and Clancy were discussing the additional tracks as they wheeledout upon the flat bit of desert. They could make nothing of them, andthe anxiety they caused was presently lost in another discovery: Theyhad reached the end of the line of ore!

Try as hard as they could, not another piece of wire-gold ore could theyfind. The thief, it appeared, must have discovered the hole in the bag, at that point, and have repaired it. 

Still searching, and hoping against hope, the boys presently came closeto the edge of the chaparral. Then, with stunning abruptness, a voiceshouted from among the bushes. 

"Now, then, pards, make a surround!"

It was a familiar voice. Merry as not so startled that he failed torealize that. 

The chaparral shook and rustled with the movements of horsemen. In amoment four riders plunged into view and drew rein on each side and infront and rear of Merriwell and Clancy. The surprised lads recognizedthe fellows at once. 

They were some of the cowboy athletes from the Bar Z Ranch--Blunt, theCowboy Wonder, and his particular cronies, Ben Jordan, Bandy Harrison, and Aaron Lloyd. 

"Whoop!" exulted Blunt, his spirited black horse rearing under his firmgrip on the reins. "Look who's here, pard! It's Merriwell, by glory!Chip Merriwell, the son of his dad! Merriwell, the silk-stockingathlete! We're diamonds in the rough, pards, but he's cut and polisheduntil he dazzles the eyes. Well, well! What do you think of this?"

Merry was conscious of one thing, and that was that the present meetingin the desert was due to chance alone, and not to any plotting onBlunt's part. 

"Whoop!" jubilated Blunt's three companions, put to it somewhat to curbtheir restive mounts. 

"Hold still, Frank, you crazy fool!" cried the Wonder, slapping hishorse about the ears with his hat. "He's scared of those chug-chugbikes, same as the rest of the bronks. Whoa, I tell you!"

Blunt was a master horseman, and soon had his plunging steed steadieddown. Clancy looked up into the face of the Cowboy Wonder and scowled. 

"You're the limit, " he grunted. "I guess Chip will believe you've got ayellow streak, after this. "

A smile, mirthless and ugly, crossed Blunt's bronzed face. Leaningforward along his horse's neck, he fixed his sloe-black eyes onClancy's. 

"Yeller streak, eh?" he echoed. "What is there, in this, to makeMerriwell think I've got a thing like that?"

"Of course, " flashed Clancy, "you touched up the professor's claim forthe trail of ore we've been following front Happenchance. "

"That's a lie, " snapped Blunt. "We're cow-punchers, and homemadeathletes, but we're not sneak thieves. We were on our way to a ranchbeyond the Picket Posts after, a bunch of Bar Z strays. We watered, lateyesterday afternoon, at the spring by old Happenchance, and we reachedthe range we were bound for at ten o'clock last night: Couldn't find thecattle we were looking for, and we started back an hour before dawn thismorning. We struck that trail of ore half a mile from here, and turnedback to run it out. Right in this place she petered out. While we werethinking about continuing on to McGurvin's, we heard you two poppingthis way, and took to the brush in order to give you a little surprise. That's the truth of it, and you can believe it or not?"

"I believe it, Blunt, " Merry answered, with a restraining glance in hischum's direction. "Now that we have met you, possibly you can give us alittle information. We're looking for the professor. He suddenly droppedout of sight, and we're anxious to locate him and get him back toOphir. "

"Wow!" exclaimed Ben Jordan. "Do we all know anything about thisperfesser? Well, I reckon. Why, he's--"

"Cork!" shouted Blunt sharply. "You chaps keep still about theprofessor. I'll do the talking on that point. " He turned in his saddleto face Merriwell, "We can tell you a whole lot about this professor ofyours, " he went on, "but I've an ax to grind, Merriwell, and theinformation is going to cost you something. "

"I thought that was your stripe, " sneered Clancy. 

"Oh, you did? Say, if I wasn't so teetotally wrapped up in Merriwell, I'd give a little attention to you, my buck. "

"What is the information going to cost?" asked Frank. 

"It's going to cost you a fight--with me. Sabe? If you can put me downfor the count, Merriwell, we'll not only tell, you what we know aboutBorrodaile, but we'll turn in, every man jack of us, and help you gethands on him. "

That was Barzy Blunt to a hair. He never allowed a chance for a contestwith young Frank Merriwell to get past him. 

"Give him his wish, Chip--or let me, " growled Clancy. "He ought to havea little sense pounded into that head of his, and here's an opening. "

"If you're hankerin' fer a go, Redhead, " called Ben Jordan, "mebby Icould oblige. "

"No, " put in Frank. "This little matter is between Blunt and me. We'vegot the center of the stage, and were going to keep it. The rest of youcan look on. " He turned to the Cowboy Wonder. "Sparring is all right, Blunt, " he continued, "but, if it is all the same to you, why notsettle, the matter catch as catch can? I have already taken one fallout, of you, but you have always claimed you could have turned thetables on me if the bout hadn't been interrupted. "

"I'm agreeable!" answered Blunt cheerily. "Best two out of three, " headded, slipping out of his saddle and handing his reins to RandyHarrison. "Hitch, pards, and gather 'round. A diamond in the rough isgoing up against this polished article from the East. Watch me jugglewith him. " He threw up his head and roared in a kind of chant: "I'mBarzy Blunt, of the Bar Z Ranch, known to fame as the Cowboy Wonder!Whoop!"

"Whoop!" howled Blunt's three companions, leading the horses back towardthe chaparral. 

Frank had already begun to strip to the gymnasium clothes which he worebeneath his ordinary apparel as under garments. His sleeveless shirt hetook off as well, thus matching the Wonder who was also stripping to thebuff. 

Merry knew that the cowboys would play fair, as they understood theword. They showed their sportsmanlike spirit by agreeing that Clancyshould act as referee. 

"If you're ready, " said Clancy, "get busy!"

Warily the two wrestlers faced each other. Again, as in the relayMarathon, Merry was contesting with Blunt for the benefit of Borrodaile. And Merry, although the Wonder was a quick and powerful antagonist, wasdetermined to win, and to do it handily. 

CHAPTER IX. 

A SHARP CLASH. 

Barzy Blunt was a splendid specimen of physical development. Hisshoulders were broad, his chest deep, and there was not an ounce ofsuperfluous flesh on his whole body. Under his clear, white skin themuscles tensed and flowed, as he crouched, and approached and retreatedwarily, looking for an opening. His movements were swift and graceful, carried out with a precision and certainty that not only claimed, butreceived, Merriwell's silent admiration. 

But if Blunt was a fine specimen of a "homemade" athlete, Merriwell'smore scientific training revealed him a shade better on every one ofBlunt's points, admirable though they were. If Blunt's appearancesuggested excellence, young Frank's spelled perfection. Even thecowboys, Blunt's partisans, could not refrain from exclamations thathonored the "polished gem from the East. " Nevertheless, the Bar Zfellows kept all their encouragement for their own champion. 

"He's got nothin' on ye in weight. Barzy!" called Aaron Lloyd. "Flophim! Jump in an' turn him over!"

"For the honor of the ole Bar Z, Barzy!" whooped Ben Jordan. 

"It's yore bout, pard!" cried Bandy Harrison. 

Suddenly the two wrestlers rushed at each other. By a quick movement, Blunt secured a hold which Merry did not fancy, and he slipped out ofhis grasp. On the marble whiteness of Merriwell's bare back four lividstreaks showed, and a flick of red oozed from one of them. 

"First blood fer Barzy!" howled Harrison. "Ye left the mark of yerclaws on him, pard! Don't let him git away from ye. "

Again the two came together, and Blunt once more succeeded in gettingunder Merriwell and snapped, him over for a quick "flop. " Merry, however, broke the hold as he went down, twisted to hands and knees, andbobbed up two feet away and again facing his antagonist. 

The cowboys were wildly exultant. They believed that Barzy Blunt wasshowing his superiority in these initial moves. 

But they were mistaken. Merry was merely trying out his adversary andcalmly studying his weak and his strong points at the game. 

Blunt, through lack of proper training, was making the grave mistake ofusing all his strength on what might be termed nonessentials. Inwrestling, no more strength should be used than the moment calls for, areserve being held for the supreme moment. 

When the wrestlers came together for the third time, the time-honoredhold of "one over and one under" was secured, and Merry was satisfied. From this, after a minute of squirming and twisting, Merry slipped to anarm-and-neck hold, his left hand about the back of Blunt's neck, righthand locked in his left elbow. Blunt began to kick. 

"Stop that!" Clancy ordered sternly. 

"Never mind, Clan, " said Merry, "I've got him now. "

With a swiftness and ease beautiful to see, Merriwell thrust his leftfoot between Blunt's kicking extremities, pushed the left arm farther, and completely around his neck, clung like a leech to his left elbow, twisted on his toes, bent his knees, and heaved upward. Blunt was liftedclear of the ground on Merry's back. It was the old reliable hip lock. The next instant, Blunt had fallen. Merry was on top and Blunt'sshoulders squarely on the ground. 

"First fall for Chip Merriwell, " sang out Clancy. "He's a chip of theold block in more ways than one. "

Blunt got up, smiling. It was his old, mirthless smile, and, like abarometer, announced his rising temper. 

The second round was a little more exciting. Possibly Merriwell, wishingto encourage Blunt, gave him the initial advantage. A minute, or aminute and a half of fierce, silent struggling followed, Blunt blowinglike a grampus and Merriwell taking it easily. 

With an arm clasped around Merriwell's neck, Blunt labored tremendouslyto turn him over. Merry, however, was like a rock, and all the cowboy'sefforts failed. He expended a vast amount of strength, which was exactlywhat Merry wanted. 

Then, with startling suddenness, Merriwell from a rocklike, passivedefense became the aggressor. He seemed to yield to Blunt's pushing andhauling, but that supposed yielding was a sorry disappointment to thecowboy. Somehow, Merry regained his feet; then, in a flash, Merry'sright arm had Blunt's head in chancery, with Blunt at his back. With amarshaling of his reserve strength, Merry turned the Wonder a somersaultand laid him stunned and flat on his back. 

"Well, I'll be blamed!" exclaimed Jordan, rubbing a dazed hand acrosshis forehead. "That's the best I ever seen, an' no mistake. "

"How the jumpin' sand hills did he do it?" murmured the bewilderedHarrison. 

"He's sure some on the wrestle!" exclaimed Aaron Lloyd. 

"Second fall, " announced Clancy crisply. "Two straight for ChipMerriwell, and he wins. "

Frank, breathing a little hard, hurried to kneel at Blunt's side. 

"Didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously. 

Blunt sat up and stared at him, smiling wrathfully, and his jet-blackeyes two points of flame. 

"No, you didn't hurt me, " he answered. "I'm all rawhide and whalebone, and it isn't in you to hurt me. Confound you, I'll get you at somethingor other yet. Want to spar with bare knuckles?"

"Not to-day, " Frank answered. "A bargain is a bargain, Blunt. I won thisset-to in a couple of straight falls. Now, tell me what you know aboutProfessor Borrodaile. "

Jordan brought Blunt's shirt, and began pulling it over his head. Harrison rushed to the horses and returned with a canteen. Blunt took along pull at the canteen, and got up. 

"If you're afraid to spar--" he began, but Clancy interrupted him. 

"You've lost out, Blunt, and Merriwell has bought and paid for theinformation about Professor Borrodaile. Give it to him. "

"That's right, old pard, " put in Lloyd. "Come across, or let some o' therest of us. "

"I'll do the talking. " Blunt answered. "Yesterday afternoon, " said he, "we stopped for a while at McGurvin's. While we were watering thebronks, I looked up and saw a man's face at an upstairs window. It wasthe face of this professor of yours. "

"Great Scott!" gulped Clancy, staring. 

"At McGurvin's?" demanded Merry, no less excited. 

"Yes, at McGurvin's. Iasked Mac what the professor was doing in his house, and he answeredthat what I didn't know wouldn't bother me. It was none of my put-in, and so I let it go at that, There's something else to it, too. Tell whatyou found out in Gold Hill, Aaron, two days ago. "

Merry and Clancy turned their eyes on Lloyd. 

"I was there fer the ranch mail, " began Lloyd, "an' Nick Porter wascrookin' his elbow a-plenty. And talking a heap, too. In front of theRed Light he had a feller in flashy clothes with a sandy mustache, andthe two was goin' it some in the gab line. I was leanin' against thefront of the Red Light, at the time, a-readin' a letter, an' I couldn'thelp hear a little of what them two said. 'Sam'll put down a hole an'blow out a bag o' samples, ' says Porter, 'an' bring 'em round about toMac's. Turkeyfoot'll take the perfesser on from Mac's to the old campthe mornin' after Sam gits through. Arter loadin' up with theperfesser's plunder, he'll bring him back to Mac's, an' Mac'll hold him. Then you, Heppner, can go out to Mac's Tuesday arternoon an' make yerplay. ' That's all, " finished Lloyd. 

"Aaron didn't remember all that until after I'd seen the professor atthe window, " interpolated Blunt. "Then, as we were riding on, he let itout. "

"Blazes!" exclaimed Clancy. "There's a scheme on to rob Borrodaile ofthat claim of his!"

"Looks thataway, " said Lloyd passively. 

"Who is this Sam that was to get the bag of samples and take it toMcGurvin's by a roundabout way?" queried Merriwell. 

"No sabe. "

"He's the fellow that had the leaky bag and dropped this trail of ore!Who's Turkeyfoot?"

"Feller that lives out o' Gold Hill a ways. Does freightin'. "

"The way I size it up, " said Frank, "the professor hired this Turkeyfootto came to Happenchance with him and get the goods he had left there. They halted at McGurvin's place long enough to give Sam time to do hisblasting and make off with the samples. Then the professor andTurkeyfoot went to the claim, got the professor's goods, and went backto McGurvin's; and there, fellows, the professor is being held untilthis man in flashy clothes comes out and does something to beatBorrodaile out of the claim. "

"That's you, " said Blunt. "To-day's Tuesday; and it's this afternoonthat the business is to be pulled off. The thing to do is to hike forMcGurvin's and nip the affair in the bud. Mac is on the side of theopposition, and so is Sam, and Turkeyfoot, and the flashily dressedjuniper. That makes four, Merriwell, and there are only you and Clancyto see this game through. We'll help. That was part of the bargain, andwe Bar Z fellows stand up to our agreements. "

"We were at McGurvin's, last night, " remarked Frank, puzzled. "Therewasn't any one there but the rancher himself. "

"Shucks, " said Blunt, "you're easy. There might have been a houseful, and you none the wiser. McGurvin's so crooked he can't walk around hishouse without running into himself. Everybody knows that. "

Merry's dark eyes began to flash, "This is an outrage!" he exclaimed. "McGurvin, and all the rest who areworking with him, ought to be arrested!"

Blunt laughed. 

"What do you want to arrest him for?" he asked. "Beat him at his owngame and let it go at that. Climb aboard your chug bikes, and we'llmount and hurry along with you. We can get to the ranch in time to makeMcGurvin and his bunch look two ways for comfort. "

Merriwell realized the need of hurry. The sun was climbing toward thezenith, and afternoon, and the working out of the plot againstBorrodaile, would soon be at hand. Without further delay he got into hisclothes; then he and Clancy started their machines and headed forMcGurvin's. The cowboys galloped along just behind them. 

CHAPTER X. 

FOILING THE PLOTTERS. 

Merriwell and Clancy had to diminish their speed in order to let thecowboys keep them in sight. This was annoying, and Merry formed anotherplan and slowed to a halt in order to broach it to Blunt. 

"Clancy and I, " said he, as Blunt and his friends galloped up, "cancover the ground between here and McGurvin's four times as quick as youfellows. I think we had better push on. "

"What's the use?" Blunt demanded. "We'll all get there beforeafternoon. "

"Suppose the man with the flashy clothes and the red mustache shouldtake it into his head to come to McGurvin's before afternoon?"

"Then maybe it's too late. Possibly he's there now. "

"We'll go on and see, " said Merry. "You fellows can lope along and getthere in time to help Clancy and me, if we find they're too many forus. "

"Correct, Merriwell. We'll come a-smoking. "

Frank and Owen ducked through the rough country like a couple ofmeteors. The daylight was all they needed to help them in their flightover a course so carefully covered the night before. Again, as oncebefore, the professor's claim was at stake, and the motorcycles werepushed to, the utmost in an attempt to reach McGurvin's and head off thescoundrelly work of the plotters. 

It seemed almost no time at all until the verdant spot, irrigated byMcGurvin's well, came into view in the distance across the bare sands. 

"We'll make a detour, Clan, " said Merry, "and come up on the ranch fromthe rear. There are only two of us, you know, and we will have toproceed with care if we don't want to spoil everything. "

"Sure, " Clancy promptly assented. "We'd better leave our machines in thebrush somewhere, and move up on the adobe on foot. If we don't, McGurvinwill hear us. "

This plan was carried out. The motor cycles were left at a safedistance, and the lads crept cautiously forward under the screen ofMcGurvin's corral. Corn was growing in the irrigated truck patch, andMerry and Clancy got into it and moved upon the house. 

Presently they began to hear voices; then, catching a glimpse ofMcGurvin's hitching pole, they saw a saddle horse secured there. 

"Looks like our man was here already, " Merry whispered in his chum'sear. 

"Where is the talking coming from?" returned Clancy. "It seems prettyclose. "

"We'll find out. "

On hands and knees the boys crept on, screened by the broad leaves ofthe corn. Presently Merry reached the edge of the cornfield, and paused. The shady side of the house was not over twenty feet from him, and therecomfortably seated, was a florid, flashily dressed, red-mustachedperson. Opposite him, in another chair, was not less a personage thanProfessor Phineas Borrodaile. He was looking over his glasses inconsternation at the man with the red mustache. Grouped in thebackground were McGurvin and two flannel-shirted, rough-lookingArizonians. 

It had been a happy inspiration of Merry's to hasten on ahead of thecowboys. It was not afternoon, yet already the stage was set and theplay for the professor's claim was being made. Clancy gripped his chumtensely by the arm. They did not speak, even in whispers, but crouchedat the edge of the corn and watched and listened. 

"Yes, indeed, " the professor was saying, in his cracked voice, "you averrightly, Mr. Heppner, that this is a remarkable country, mostremarkable. Over in the Picket Post Mountains, if you please, I haveseen misty island-like protuberances, resembling greatly thepost-pliocene crannoges of the Roscommon loughs. Now--"

"Call off the dog, professor, " interrupted Heppner. "I'm a governmentagent, and I'm here on business. See? You didn't know you'd jumped amining claim belonging to McGurvin, but such is the fact. This will haveto be straightened out, or the responsibility will rest heavily uponyou. Now, speaking personal, I'd hate a heap to see you sent to jail, seeing as how you're in this country for your health. Jails ain't ahealth resort, by any manner of means. What do you propose to do aboutthis?"

"Dear me!" murmured Borrodaile, taking off his hat and rubbing the topof his bald head. "I am not dishonest, gentlemen. I assure you that Iwant only to do what's right. The claim I located was discovered by mynephew; and I am his next of kin. I supposed, you understand, that itwas rightfully mine. "

"Sure, " answered the bogus government agent heartily, "I can see rightwhere you made your mistake. How could you know that, in the years thatfollowed your nephew's discovery, the claim was located again byMcGurvin, there? When did you locate it, Mac?" he asked, turning on therancher. 

"Night onto two year ago, " asserted McGurvin solemnly. 

"There you are!" exclaimed Heppner triumphantly. "McGurvin has done theassessment work, so it belonged to him. And you jumped it. State'sprison offense, professor. "

The professor shuddered. 

"I didn't intend to do any wrong, " he answered. 

"Ignorance of the law, " expounded Heppner, "excuses no one. Still, speaking personal, I'm here to let you off light. You've had a lot oftrouble in this matter, and McGurvin is willing to give you a hundreddollars for that. You will have to sign a quitclaim deed, though, so asto clear up the title. I call that, " beamed Heppner, "mighty generous. "

"A heap more'n I ort ter do, " said McGurvin, in a burst of frankness. 

"More'n I'd do, Mac, " said one of the two others. 

"Ye know, Sam, " whimpered the rancher, "I allers was troubled withenlargement of the heart, I reckon, someday, it'll be the ruination o'me. Ain't that so, Turkeyfoot?"

"Not as nobody can notice, " replied the other bystander. "All I wants isto see the perfesser git his rights. I was totin' his stuff ter town, an' I'm in his pay. I stick fer the hunderd, an' you can whine all yedarn please. "

"Mr. Turkeyfoot, " said the professor, casting a grateful look at thatnoble gentleman, "I shall never forget your loyalty and kindness to me. If you insist, I will accept the hundred dollars, and sign this quitclaim. All I want is to do what is right. _Otium oum dignitate_, that ismy motto, and what I am seeking. Such matters as this, in which I haveunwittingly erred, distress me greatly. "

Heppner had pulled a paper and a fountain pen from his pocket. 

"There ain't no odium attached to this move, professor, " he saidreassuringly. "You have done wrong, but you are doing your best to makeamends. " He got up and handed the pen to the professor, and then openedout the paper. "Sign there, " said he. "Mac, " he added, "have yourhundred dollars ready. "

McGurvin went down into his trousers, fished up a roll of bills, andheld it in his hand, eying it hungrily. The professor, hunting for aplace on which to write, stood up and laid the paper against the wall ofthe house. 

Merry was astounded to think that Borrodaile should prove so lacking inordinary understanding as to take the words of that gang of trickstersin such a matter. But he was child, so far as business affairs wereconcerned. It was easy to make him believe anything, so long as hisparticular field of knowledge was not intruded upon. 

Something had to be done, and Merry was not long in doing it. A boldmove was necessary. If Heppner ever got that signed quitclaim deed inhis hands, the transaction would be badly complicated. 

Starting up, Merriwell jumped clear of the cornfield, dashed across thespace separating him from the group of men in the shade of the house, and, before the astounded plotters could interfere, he had reached overthe professor's shoulder, snatched the paper out of his hands, and tornit to bits. 

"Blast ye!" roared McGurvin, jumping forward savagely. "What right yougot buttin' in?"

Sam, Turkeyfoot, and Heppner likewise confronted Merry with flaming eyesand twitching, angry faces. The professor fell back, astounded. 

"Merriwell!" he gasped, lifting a hand to his forehead. 

Clancy, losing not a moment, jumped to place himself at his chum's side. 

"You're a pack of curs!" cried Merriwell, "and you're trying to swindlethe professor out of a bonanza mining claim. You--"

With a snarl of rage, all four of the plotters began closing in on Merryand Clancy. 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE COWBOYS SAVE THE DAY. 

For a few moments matters took on a serious aspect for the two boys. The quitclaim deed, however, had been destroyed, and there was no fearthat Professor Borrodaile would again fall into Heppner's trap. Frankhad counted upon this, and had even figured that he would have to take afew hard knocks in bringing it about. 

Heppner, fairly boiling, was rushing at Merry like an unleashed tornado. McGurvin, too, was plunging toward him from the right. Sam andTurkeyfoot were making Clancy the object of their attack. 

Merry felt that Heppner was entitled to a little something as a memorialof the plot that failed. So, dodging the bull-like rush of McGurvin, hejumped at Heppner, and his doubled fist shot out like a battering-ram. 

"Oof!" Heppner grunted, flinging up his arms. 

Frank's knuckles had landed on the point of his heavy, brutelike jaw, injust the place best calculated to make a man see stars, and, incidentally, to teach him a lesson. 

The "government agent" reeled back and staggered groggily. McGurvin, swearing furiously, flung his arms around Frank from behind. 

"I'll wring yer neck fer ye, you young terror!" threatened the rancher. 

And it was at that moment, when Merry and Clancy were hard beset, that aBar Z yell floated down the breeze. It came with an accompaniment ofwildly galloping hoofs. High above the tumult and the shouting arose thevoice of Barzy Blunt:

"Hang to it, Merriwell! We're on the way!"

The coming of reenforcements had a dampening effect upon the ardor ofMcGurvin, Sam, and Turkeyfoot. The rancher released Frank and started ata hurried pace for the other side of his house. Sam and Turkeyfoot alsoattempted to decamp, but they were not quick enough. 

The cowboys, throwing themselves from their horses, rushed pell-mell totake a hand in the conflict. Such a ruction appealed to them, and theyproceeded to wade into Sam and Turkey foot. Frank and Blunt went on ahurried search for McGurvin. 

The rancher was finally located, barricaded behind a locked door, and hewas breathing fierce threats of ravage and slaughter. 

"Keep away from me, or I'll fill ye fuller o' holes than a pepperbox!"was one of the rancher's many remarks. 

Blunt, laughing loudly, threw himself against the door. With Frank'shelp, it was kicked open. And McGurvin did not shoot. It transpired thathe had nothing to shoot with. He tried to fight, but Merry and Blunt gothim in hand and dragged him out of doors. 

"Tell us about this, you blamed coyote, " said Blunt, "and be quick. You've got about as much grit as a chipmunk, and if you don't talk we'llshow you a trick or two that will make you wish you had. "

"What you a-tryin' to do, Barzy?" asked McGurvin in an injured tone. "Takin' the part o' this Eastern crowd agin' me?"

"Pah!" exclaimed the Cowboy Wonder, in disgust. "I'm no friend of yours, you old tinhorn. What were you trying to do? Out with it. "

"It wasn't me, Barzy, " whimpered McGurvin, "it was Heppner--Heppner fromTombstone. He put it all up--him an' Nick Porter. "

"Put what up?"

"Why, this scheme to beat the perfesser out o' that claim o' his. I wasdrawed inter it innercent like. "

"Yes, you were mighty innocent!" put in Frank scathingly. "You pretendedthat you had located the professor's claim a long while ago, and thatthe professor had jumped it. Heppner professed to be a government agentsent here to straighten the matter out, and you were to give Borrodailea hundred dollars for a quitclaim deed to the mine. "

"A hundred dollars?" gasped Blunt. "Great snakes! Why, that claim'sworth thousands. The professor stood for that yarn?"

"They had him scared stiff, " said Merriwell. "He was signing the deedwhen I jumped out of the cornfield and grabbed it away from him. "

"It was Heppner's doin's, " insisted McGurvin. "He was ter gi' me ahundred for helpin' him. "

"You were to sign the quitclaim over to him, eh?" asked Blunt. 

"That's the how o' it, Barzy. He's a villain, that Heppner person, but Iwas took in by his wiles. "

"How much was Sam to get?" asked Merry. 

"He was gittin' another hunderd fer the bag o' samples, an' fer helpin'in other ways. "

"And Turkeyfoot?"

"Another hunderd was comin' ter him, same's to the rest o' us. "

"How about Nick Porter?"

"Dunno how much he was ter git. He told Heppner about the perfesser an'the claim in the fust place, so I reckon he come higher. The perfesseris kinder weak in the headpiece. He'd b'leeve anythin'. Nick Porter toleme so when he was here last night. "

"Oh!" said Merry. "So Porter was here, was he, when Clancy and I camelooking for him?"

"Well, yes. I didn't say nothin' ter you about it, Merriwell, bec'us' Ididn't dare. Porter would 'a' killed me, if I had. "

"You're a skunk!" gritted Barzy Blunt. 

"Where's Porter now?" demanded. Frank. 

"He hiked out early this mornin'. Say, Barzy, I heerd ye wasn't nofriend o' Merriwell's. "

"I'm not, " was the answer. "I made a bargain with him, and this is partof it. "

"Where are the professor's goods and Turkeyfoot's wagon?" Merryquestioned. 

"Out in the scrub, " was the rancher's reply. "So's Sam's burro, which hetook when he went arter the ore t'other day. Sam was gittin' the ore tershow Heppner. He lost part o' it on the way here, but enough was leftter make Heppner open his eyes a whole lot. He allowed it was therichest claim he ever seen. "

"Yes, " remarked Blunt, "we know all about Sam's losing the ore. But forthat golden trail, Merriwell, you and I would never have got togetherout there in the desert, and this scheme against the professor mighthave worked to a fare you well. I'd never have butted in, if you hadn'tbested me with two straight falls. "

"Have you been keeping the professor here against his will?" demandedFrank of McGurvin. 

"Nary, I wasn't. Turkeyfoot had him skeered. He tells the perfessorthere's a gov'ment agent arter him, named Heppner, an' that the claim hethought he located he really jumped. That was Turkeyfoot's part a'it--purtendin' ter be the perfesser's friend an' goadin' him on ter fallin with Heppner's plan. Oh, Turkeyfoot's a missable skunk, all right. "

"The professor stayed here because Turkeyfoot told him to?" asked Frank, far gone with wonder on Borrodaile's account. 

"That's the how of it, an' I'm givin' it to ye straight. " Clancy hadcome up during part of the talk with McGurvin, and presently Ben Jordanarrived with Turkeyfoot, and Harrison and Lloyd with Sam. The professor, dazed and bewildered, came pottering along presently, and stood off at adistance while he tried to adjust his wits to the sudden whirl ofevents. 

"Where's Heppner, Clan?" Merry asked. 

"Concluded he hadn't better stay, Chip, " Clancy explained. "Just as thecowboys got here, Heppner jumped to the back of his horse and beganhitting the high places. He took your mark along with him, though, " theredheaded chap finished, with a laugh. 

Merry walked over to Borrodaile and laid a soothing hand on hisshoulder. 

"Wake up, professor, " said he. "It's all over, and you've still got yourclaim. "

"My boy, " answered the professor, still a little "flighty, " "I don'twant that claim if it's not legally mine. "

"It is legally yours. Heppner was only pretending to be a governmentagent, and McGurvin never saw the claim. "

"Well, well!" murmured the professor, mildly surprised. "Then they weredishonest?"

"I should say!"

"But Mr. Turkeyfoot is my friend. He thought I had done wrong, and hefought loyally to get me off and to make McGurvin give me a hundreddollars. "

Clancy turned away to hide a laugh. 

"Turkeyfoot deceived you, just as the others did, " Frank explainedpatiently. "You hired him to go to Happenchance after the stuff you hadleft there?"

"Yes. We came thus far on our way, and Mr. Turkeyfoot explained how Ihad laid myself liable to fine and imprisonment for stealing a claim. Hesaid I must remain here at McGurvin's for a time, and--er--keep shady. That is the term he used, I believe. Well, I kept shady until he came togo to the old town. Then, when we returned from there, I had to keepshady again. A little while ago Mr. Heppner arrived, saying herepresented the government, and--and--Well, " and the professor drew along sigh, "I'm glad to know I haven't stolen anything from anybody. "

"Why did you leave Ophir for Gold Hill?"

"Mr. Porter told me about Mr. Turkeyfoot, and said he was the one to goout and bring in my personal effects, You had had enough trouble on myaccount, Merriwell, and I did not want to bother you further. Yet itseems, " he finished regretfully, "that I have done the very thing Itried not to do. "

"I'm going to take you back to Ophir, " declared Merry, "and do what Ican to look out for you. "

"I am quite capable of looking out for myself, Merriwell; nevertheless, I shall be glad to have you near me to offer advice. Your father had avery good business head, and I presume you are likewise gifted. " Hisface brightened perceptibly as he went on: "While returning fromHappenchance with my personal effects, I clipped a really excellentspecimen of amorphous diapase from a reef among the hills. The cellularcrystallization of the diapase is intensely interesting. It will give mepleasure to show it to you, Merriwell, and--"

"Never mind that just now, professor, " Frank answered. "Turkeyfoot isgetting ready to take you on to Ophir. Clancy and I have a couple ofmotor cycles, but we're going to load them in Turkeyfooty's wagon andride with you. "

"Just why do you inconvenience yourself in that manner?"

"To make sure that nobody takes the mining claim away from you betweenhere and the Ophir House, " said Frank. 

The professor looked puzzled, but was wise enough not to ask Merriwellto explain. 

THE END. 

"Frank Merriwell, Junior's, Competitor; or, The Honor of the Game, " isthe title of the story that will be found in the next issue of thisweekly. In this story, Barzy Blunt is defeated by young Merriwell inanother feat of strength and skill, and he begins to see light. Frankgets a letter from his father which is full of interesting surprises. You will find this narrative of the doings of Chip Merriwell and hischums to be full of incident and sustained excitement. It is No. 12, andwill be out October 19th.