yee ee. / Tip Top LIBRARY. Tssucd Weeklty—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Eniered as Second Class Matler at the N. Y. Post Office. Srrewy & SMITH, 29 Rose St, H. ¥ Pntered Aeronding to Act of Congress, in the oe 1696, in the € Office of whe be ibrarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. "FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA: THE MYSTERY OF THE MINES By the Author of ‘‘FRANK MERRIWELL.”’ CHAPTER I. ="1 “Phat is straight,’’ «declared Frank ~ Merriwell. . ‘“Vot kindt uf broperty ?”’ “Vell, Vrankie, vot you sbent so much| ‘‘Mine.”’ time dot biece uf baper ofer, ain’did?| ‘‘Yaw, I know you. say id vos yours; A STORY AND A’ MYSTERY. Vos dot a lofe letter vot you peen carry-| but vot id vos, ain’d ie a ing in your bocket aroundt so long id} ‘‘Why, a mine—a mine. 4 4 looks like id vos in need repairs uf ?”? ‘‘Oh, yaw! A mine. Und id vas yours, = ‘‘No, this is not a love letter, Hans.’’ [so id vasn’t mine. Uf you throw noddings = : ‘"Wot id vos, ain’d id ?”’ ad me I vill dodge id!” a it 13 @-chart.”’ Frank Merriwell laughed. : 2 **Vot vos dot ?”’ The boys were seated in the largest = ‘A map.’’ private room, ‘‘one floor up,’’ of the New a “Oh, yaw! You peen sdutying geol-| York Hotel, which was located in the 4 ogtafy to seen vere you vos at. Vos id|/new mining town of Powder Gap, Santa = map uf der vorld.”’ | Catarina Mountains, Arizona. Ona ride a ‘A very small part of the world. Itis)bed near at hand Professor Scotch was] aimap of a portion of the Santa Catarina ‘taking his regular afternoon nap, snoring ee Mountains, Arizona, where we are now. |now and then in a distressing and convul- ~ 5 oD In fact, I am sure it is a map of this par-|sive manner. ae ticular locality.’’ | In the course of their travels the trio” x “Vell, vot you peen so inderested in|had wandered to this remote mining | dot for alretty yet so long ?”’ town, the professor Being led to go there 4 “Because this map, or chart, should! through the request of Frank, who seemed guide me to a piece of property that is of to have a strange desire to visit the place. sufficient value to make me the richest boy| They found it a rude, bustling ‘‘camp, in the world.”’ consisting of rough slab shanties and can- Hans Dunnerwust gave a gasp of sur-|vas tents of all ages, stages of wear, and prise, and fell off his chair to the floor. shades of color. : “*T don’d toidt you sol’’ he cried. It was a wild and picturesque plat FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA. situated in a rocky gorge, through which | should belong wholly and undisputedly to | flowed a small stream of water, which, in | the other. | the tainy season, according to report,| He did net state if such an agreement F swelled to a wide, wild, rushing, roaring | had been made in writing, and there were river. ithose who winked and looked wise when Powder Gap was not a placer mining/they heard of it. | town; it depended entirely on its ore; There were a few who longed to inves- | Mines, of which the.Giant, the first one tigate the mystery of jason Carter’s disap- fs located, was the richest aiid employed the| pearance, and’ ‘one “inquisitive individual S most men. Besides the Giant, there were} attempted to do so. >the Queen Bee, the White Lightning, the| He also disappeared in a most sudden, | Big Injun, and the Noble Roman. Of/silent, and mysterious manner, and George these mines, the Big Injun was said to be} Bailey had not been seen since in Powder the most valuable, standing second to| Gap. the Giant, although it was a mere dwarf} Noone else attempted to investigate, ' beside the latter. 7 | and the impression was general that it * Wallace Coville, a dark-faced man of, was not a healthy thing to be too inquisi- middle age, was the owner of the Giant. | tive concerning the mystery. here were streaks of white in Coville’s} As the town of Powder Gap grew hair, but his lips were very red, his eyes | rapidly and other mines were opened up, | glittering black aud restless, and his en-/the mystery concerning Jason Carter was ® tite aspect sinewy, alert, pantherish. | forgotten in a great measure. Coville and Carter were the original | Powder Gap became a typical South- owners of the Giant, but Jason Carter had| western mining camp, wherein all ‘softs _ disappeared in a sudden and mysterious;and conditions of people, and almost all © manner, and no one seemed to know what| nationalities, could be seen. e had become of him. If any one hinted at} The place contained numerous saloors | foul play, he took care not to speak tooland gambling joints, two ‘‘hotels,’’ of openly. | which the New York was far the better, m “As little or nothing was knowin ofjand one theatre and dance hail, which » Carter, who had been a strangely sent |was the pride and boast of the town. © and taciturn man, forming no friendships} As yet there was no church in the > and making few acquaintances, his disap-| place, and some of the ruffians declared it zs pearance did not create as much of a sen-| would not be’a healthy thing for any "sation as it might under other circum-|‘‘praving parson’’ to enter the limits of '_ stances. Powder Gap. © After Carter’s vanishing, Coville con-| Together Frank Merriwell and Hans » tinued to run the mine just the same, and| Dunnerwust looked over the chart, while oche once publicly stated that he and Carter | Professor Scotch slumbered peacefully on © had formed a chance partnership, that he| the bed. | had known nothing jp particular of Car-} ‘‘There,”’ explained Frank, ‘‘is Tucson, © ter’s past, that he did not know if Carter|and here is Oracle.”’ » had a relative living, and that, in case he} ‘‘How you know dot?” asked the ‘did have relatives, they could have no|Dutch lad. ‘‘I don’d seen no name ‘to claim on the Giant Mine, as there had} him.’’ been an agreement between himself and| . ‘‘Well that is what I have made out of that at the death of either the property| were not laid down on the ring.” ee 8 Carter when they went into partnership|it by studying it carefully. The names soon res the whe kill Tins Tin; it \ Ar eve shi “we -O! se ly to hent vere hen ves- ap- ual en ‘ge ler ceed thought he peen deadt.’’ FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA ‘On der ring? Vot ring?”’ | “It was a false report; *“The ring this chart was made from.’ > | dead. ~ “*Vrankie,.you peen got me all dw isted | **T don’d toldt you so!”’ so soon alretty. Idon’d know nottings | “Yes; after the ring came into mis pos- apout dot ring.’’ | Session, he was tracked from place to ‘‘Don’t you remember the odd ring 19 place, bee a wild beast, by a band» of wore at Fardale—the one with the shining | men who were determined to possess the black stone, on which fine lines were/ring. In vain he tired to throw them off he was not & é ¥ x traced ?”’ | the scent; they were like blood-hounds on ‘On, yaw! der ring vot dot man in| ithe trail. He found he was constantly in Z > 7 lack sdole vrom vou.’’ de adly danger, but knowing the value of o y g D> ? J ‘s¥ es.’ ; the ring, he ose not give it up. Hess | gh » 4 ‘But he didn’t get avay mit. dot ring, sent the ring to my mother, and then, | Vrankie. He tood a dumble mit himsel| with the aid of friends, his apparent death ~ der oldt quarry in, und dot tumble seddled and burial were brought about. Notices of his goose, for he vas puried right avay|his death appeared in papers, and were +) soon after dot. \sent to my mother, so she believed him ‘*Yes; he was trying to get away with |dead.”’ the ring, and we were pursuing hifn | ‘‘Und he don’d peen deadt ad all?” when he fell into the quarry. He was} ‘‘No.”’ killed by the fall, and I recovered the, ‘‘Vell uf dot don’d peat der biscuit you ring. That man knew the value of the|vos a liar!’ How he come to haf dot ring,” ring, and, with his dying breath, told me|anyway?”’ it would guide any one to a rich mine in | “Tt was given him bya dying man - Arizona. He died ‘too soon to explain | !'whom he had befriended, and the man everything fully, but he said enough to| ‘told him its value.’’ show me just Low much the ring was) ‘‘Und he haf got dot ring pack now?” | oworth.”’ | ‘*Yes, he came for it at the time when ‘How vos id he knew all apout dot?’ | we visited Uncle Asher. My living father 7 ‘‘He had seen the ring before he saw it} was the ghost which Uncle Asher, my, = -on my hand—he claimed to have pos- | father’s brother, believed he saw in the ~ ‘old mansion. You know that, at my re-" 9) sessed it once. ‘‘Flow he lost id?”’ quest, I was allowed to sleep in the cham- ‘‘T don’t remember, but I think he said| ber where my mother died—the chamber 3 it was stolen from him; but it was not|frequented by the supposed ghost. ~He rightfully ~ as he had stolen it in the,;came-that night, and I confronted him. first place.’’ | Then I found that my father, whom la ‘““Und how you came to haf dot ring, | believed dead and buried, was alive. He Vranke?’’ . | had come for the ring, tune in the West, sent it to my mother, | drawer of adressing-case in that chamber. and told her to keep it till he called for|I had the ring, and I gave it up to him, it. Then came the report that father was| The one ruling ambition of my father’s” dead, and when mother died, she gave the | life had ever been to get rich. This pas: | ting to me, telling me to foes it always. ”? | Sion had made him a wanderer on the -“Oxactly. Where dot ring peen now?’’|face of the earth, an exile from his hom ‘My father has it.”’ and the ones he foved: He pledged me t secrecy, he made me swear not to tell which he believed © ‘‘My father, who was seeking his for-|mother had left secreted in a hidden” i a ow . & < ~ 4 sid FRANK MERRIWELL » brother, my Uncle Asher, the truth, and = then he bade me farewell till the ring = should lead him to the wonderful mine of © day to this I have heard nothing from my father.’’ & ‘Dot peen a story like, Vrankie. F So inderested as uefer vos in dot.’’ "Tt does sound tather strange and im- ' probable, but it is true.’’ ‘ “Vot you dink haf pecomeeuf your m. fader alretty yet ?’’ “That is a mystery I would like to | solve; that is one thing which brought F me to the Santa Catarina Mountains and ~ Powder Gap.”’ . Pry Oft be here, ain’d id?’’ Se **] did not know.”’ ““Vot you dinks now ?”’ dinks maype you found him ‘My father is not in this place; I am } satisfied on that point.”’ “Vell, vot you going to done apout edot?’’ - “Tam going to institute an investiga- F tion of certain things, and you may’ bet E: -your last dollar on that, Hans!’’ © “Dot’s peesness. Vot you going to in- | vesdigate ?”’ “Tam going to find out, if possible, how Wallace Coville came into possession of the Giant Mine.” © ‘Vot dot haf to do your fader mit?” “This chart, which was drawn from » the lines on the stone of my father’s ring, locates the Giant Mine. That is the mine for which my father passed through so F. many dangers, to obtain which he pre- tended to die and be buried. If my father is still alive, that mine should belong to ~him; if he is dead, it should belong to 4 me,” CHAPTER II. DISCOVERY OF THE RING. “Shimminy Gristinas! Dot peen more deresding as nefer yos. _ Dot mine peen Me Laie ‘ ‘ a ; ss © the Santa Catarina Mountains. From that I vos" IN ARIZONA. 1 owned by Vallace Goville, und you fader don’d peen iu dot. How you oxplain Hint ge “T don’t try to explain it; but I would have Mr. Wallace Coville make a like to few explanations. ’’ ‘‘t don’d plame you vor dot, Vrankie. You shust ged righd avay atter dot Vallace Goville.”’ ’ 6 I will,’’ declared Frank, rising to his feet. ‘I will see him at once.’’ “Und I vill seen him mit you.”’ ““No; I-want you to remain here with the professor. He need not be aroused till he finishes his nap. . If he awakens before I return, tell him where I have gone.”’ Hans looked disappointed. , Maype you ged indo a scrap mit Vallace Goville, und I don’d peen in | dot.’? ‘‘No scrap, Hans. I shall look out for that..'? ‘*You haf a revolfer?”’ ie se l'rank took out a handsome weapon and exainined it to make sure it was prop- erly loaded and in working order. ‘“F do not believe in carrying a weapon of this sort,’’ he said; ‘‘but it is likely to prove handy in this part of the country. As has been said, ‘one may never need as gun in the West, but if he’ should happen ‘to need it, he is sure to need it almighty bad.>?" . ‘‘Yaw, dot vos right, only der veller vot said dot didn’t say ‘almighty pad;’ he | ek nm? | “Never mind quoting it accurately ; there” are times when it is well not to be _too correct in such things.”’ | . ‘Yaw, IT pelief ie.’ | Restoring the revolver to his pocket, | Frank left the room and the hotel. He made his way Straight down the main street of lof the Giaut Mine. Near the opening ‘of ‘the mine, which was like a great. mouth } | . * ~~ . ‘in the face of the mountain, were ntumer- the town toward the office ous la withis with | down depth: the ca statiot As were whicl build hamn other Ga and ¢ chim oe town ‘Tusc built Gian bruile in al H few up ¢ the inte Fra the pos c saw offi » bui : ae doc , wil | fro on ble Fr gee - he oe do 11: Laer [alt uld : . A Ie. ACEH his th ill Te yi Se: ere A to ee FRANK ous large wooden buildings, about and within which everything was moving with a rush and aroar. A car-track ran down into the inine, and up from the dark depths came car load after car load of ore, the cars being drawn up by means of a stationaty engine and cable. As fast as the cars came up their loads were duinped into a great sluice, down which the ore shot on its way into a the hammering and roaring, building where ore-crushers were driven by an- other powerful engine. Gangs of men wete busy everywhere, and clouds of sinoke came from the black | chimneys. “By Jingoes!’’ muttered Frank; ‘‘this town is calling for a railroad from the it will be like the Coville says he will Tuscon and Globe line, and built . if Giant is opened up. build it himself, if it cannot one or two more mines be in any other way.”’ He paused aud watched the laborers a few minutes, seeing the loaded cars come | up one after the other, like magic, from the interesting and entertaining Frank did not allow it to divert him from the dark mouth of mine. It was an sight, but the attempted accomplishment of his pur- pose. Over the door of a sinall building he saw asign that told him that was the’ of the Giant Mine. ‘Toward this - building he made his way. office Just before he reached the building the | door suddenly opened, and out shot a Wild-eyed Chinaman, aided by a_ kick The Celestial landed quickly scram- from a heavy boot. knees, On his hands and bled to feet Frank’s arms. “Gitte lout!’’ heathen, as he reeled backward and sat his and ran straight into > squealed the frightened einen down heavily on the ground. ‘‘Chinee- ian in bely eleat hurry.’’ 4.1 -noticed jthat,’’ laughed Frank. i 4 5 ; ; De 4 ss ; ss et a ; A ee ee VERRIWELL obtained | IN ARIZONA. 5 “You seem to be on the jump. Business must be rushing with you.’’ No waslee. ‘“No blisness—bely poor blisness. shirtee to washee; no sockee to Melican lan in Plowder Glapee no washee allee samee at all. Melican mlan dirtee pigee. Sing Lee no gitee blisness; have to glo some odder ‘Well, that is rough on Sing Lee.”’ ‘*Bely rough, No Heap mlad! Go roundee tly to git shirtee ] +? placee. you betee! likee! to washee, sockee to waShee, slomt’ing fo No gitee. Chineeman tly to tlak washee. Tellee Chineeman to reat i128 gittee lout. blis- /ness, zitee klicked lout. Oh, Chineeman heap mlad, you betee!’ Then the excited Celestial got upon his feet, and danced around like a wild. In- dian, flourishing his fists in the air, while ‘his pig-tail flopped and squirmed and ‘twisted like a snake. Frank thoroughly wrought up, and,the spectacle had never seen a Chinainan $6 was something highly comical, so the bay laughed heartily. lafee!’’ squawked Sing J furiously. -‘‘ Blimebly lafee slo mluch!”’ Then, for the first time, he seemed ‘*Lafee, ee, you gitee slick vou to notice that. Frank wore a fancy shirt with a rolling collar which had been starelied. ‘‘Melican bloy wearee whlite shirtee!”’ ‘“Melican. bloy mlake glood ihe cried. clustomer. Sing Lee washee, washee bely clean, starchee bely nice.’’ ss ‘“Wirere is your place of business? ‘‘No open placee ylet; jlust comee tlo tlown.’’ “Well, when you get your place of business open, I inay have something for you to do, if I am here.’’ ‘“Blully bloy! And then, before Frank comprehended arms Me hugee you!’ his purpose, Sing Lee flung his round the lad’s neck, away!’ shouted Frauk, flung the Celestial off. _‘‘Don’t get so — ‘affectionate on short acquaintance.” 2 7 ‘Break a5 as he — 6 FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA. “Blully bloy!’ repeated the heathen, | ‘*Well, what about it?”’ grinning like an ape. ‘‘Sing Lee gletee| ‘‘I have a few questions to ask you! ST clustom now; luck have turned, you) concerning it.”’ pe betee!’’ | ‘Ask away. IJ’ll answer them or not, | ™™ “Well, Iam glad if I have changed |as I choose.” to your luck,’’ said Frank; ‘‘but don’t get; ‘Were you the original discoverer of “affectionate again, or you may think| this mine?” you’ve been struck by something harder “T was one of—— ‘Look here, it’s han than the toe of a boot. So long, Sing, | none of your business! You have nerve = old boy. see _ later.” |to come here and ask me anything of the | = “Allee light, Melican bloy. Slee YOU! sort! I just kicked out a Chinaman for -later.’’ | being insolent, and you ae to look out, Away went the Celestial, appearing | ,, you will follow him. very happy in the belief that his luck had | changed. **Now for. it,’’ muttered Frank, as he|* Aoldly approached the office door, choot it open, and entered. Almost immediately he found himself | in the presence of a man who was indus- ) ie bs | discoverers, but you were brought here) th}, triously writing at a desk. This man 7 s by a man ine knew of this mine. © You) ct. looked up, and Frank saw the cold, hard) ,° : ; 3 sta : Eee , ,| had the cash required to open it and work} ey face. of Wallace Coville, whom he had}. peer 'it as it;should be, and so you were taken seen before on the street. fa J 3 e 2 . ae |In asa partner. Where is that man now???) no ‘Mr. Coville, I believe,’’ said the boy, ; | ¢ 7 There was a black scowl on the mine-} se] respectfully, hat in hand. bs fae aie Hees sad haceheees 2 ; : s owner’s face, and his voice grated harshly, } wi .‘*Yes,’’ was the harsh reply. ‘‘What do a, . $a iy : as he returned: pa you want? “I want to talk with you a few mo- ments, if you can spare the time, sir.’’ **My time is valuable.’’ “‘T haven’t a doubt of it, sir; and I beg ce . : \ ° “ “ > z viz C Wie ye y . your pardon for bothering you, but it is ; neither ackn wiedge Meee deny it; I et J decline to say anything about it.’’ | we ‘That is plain enough, Mr. Coville; ‘“There is no reason why you should ; get so angry, Mr. Coville,’’ said the boy,/ ha quietly. ‘‘I asked you a simple question, | of- ‘and you did not see fit to answer it.) Jat |'That being the case, I will answer it for) ha ‘you. You were not one of the original. ‘‘You seem to know altogether too} much for a youngster of your years.’’ . ‘“Then vou acknowledge that what I} qu have stated is the truth ?”’ concerning a matter of great importance— tome. If you can give mea few mo- ments ” but there is an old saying that ‘murder } tr 74 Biro ze ni » Ne ‘ ‘“What do you want to’say? Be lively.” will out,’ and Why, what’s the; to Coville turned round in his chair and| ™atter, sir?” ‘faced the boy. Frank kept his eyes fairly| For Wallace Coville had leaped to his| on those of the man, which seemed to| feet, his face livid, quivering: in every} make the latter somewhat uneasy, as his|/imb, looking as if he longed to fly at the} own eyes were restless, and his gaze did| throat of the boy. not seem to rise higher than Frank’s| ‘‘Who are you?’’ hoarsely demandéd chin, save for a fleeting, furtive glance or|the man. ‘‘How do you.dare come here fr nc iatiparmam COO ca iP OSD ae Ta lh > th two. and talk to me in such a manner ?’’ Be ~ “Tam here to speak about the Giant| ‘‘My name is Frank Merriwell, and I} ” Mine;’’ said the lad. . am the son of Charles Merriwell, who, if | th Coville‘moved uneasily. living, has a claim on this mine,”? i | Te you! FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA. “‘A claim on this mine! Boy, you are crazy !?’ | ( ’ | ‘Not much! He owned the precious| 7 ‘ordinary boy who could be easily brow- | beaten and intimidated. ‘“This ring is like a hundred others,” not, Ting that would lead its possessor straight | asserted the man, with an effort. ’ =r of it’s lerve | the | for out, | ould boy, 10n, it. t for | ‘inal here | You ork ken } 7 ?) ; ine- ly, } too | ws °. to this spot and to this mine.’’ ‘“The ring——’’ “*Yes, the ring that I see upon your hand at this moment! It is too late to hide it! How came you by that ring, Wallace Coville ?”’ CHAPTER III. A DAUNTLESS BOY. The startled and shaken mine owner had carried his hand. behind his back in order to conceal the ring; but it was too late, as the keen eyes of the dauntless boy had detected it. . wan Man and boy stood facing each other in | the small office room, one cowering, startled, speechless, the other bold, ac- cusing, aggressive. At that moment Wallace Coville did not seem like his usual harsh, defiant self, with rage and fear mingling in a look of pain on his face. “How came you by that riig?”’ Once more Frank Merriwell. asked the question. ‘‘It is none of your business !”’ Coville made the retort, but he did so weakly, and his yoice was far from steady. “You dare not answer that question | truthfully,;’’ declared the lad, in a ringing | tone. ‘Go away!?’ cried the man. ‘‘Go away from here! You will regret it if you do not!’ Your threats. cannot scare me. Iam here on business, and I mean business, as you are certain to discover.’’ Frank seemed to have aged wonderfull: since entering that office. His face nov. was that of a man, and his bearing/was that of aman. The mine owner began to realize that he was not dealing with an He was shrinking before the boy, | | : 3 ‘ : | §*Ttis not!’’ was the instant refutement. ‘‘It is like no other ring in existncee.”’ | ‘Why, it isa simple gold ring, witha | black stone in the setting.”’ | “It is a peculiarly twisted band of gold, and on the black stone are traced lines which form a chart. That chart isa guide to the location of this mine.”’ Coville forced a harsh laugh. ‘*That’s rot!’ he declared. ‘‘Don’t come here with such stuff. How is it that you know so much about the ring? Bah! | It’s poppycock!”’ | ‘“‘J dare you to let me examine that |ring.’’ | “*You must think I’ma fool! Ihave 'stood too much insolence from you al- ready. Get out at once, or——’’ ‘‘Or what ?”’ ‘‘T’ll throw you out, as I did the | Chinaman.’ He took a step towatd Frank, but the boy was not daunted in the least. Upward was flung one of Frank’s hands, and he cried : i ‘‘Stop! If you dare to lay a hand on me, you will be sorry for it!’ ‘‘How melodramatic!’’ sneered the hard-faced mine owner. Still he halted, and he. really seemed afraid of this strange boy, whose face was set and hard as if cut from marble. | “I have a few things to tell you, | Wallace Coville,’’ said Frank Merriwell. ‘To begin with, that ring belongs to my |father.. How it came into your possession ‘Ido not know, but I mean to know in | ; } ; | | ; ‘time—I will know! What has become of - my father Ido not know, but that is an- other thing I mean to learn. It brought me to these mountains, ahd here I mean™ to remain till the whole truth is known. |\If there has been foul play, if my father . * has been injured at your hands, I mean ie FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA. ' to bring you to justice. You mav laugh—j believe this far more fully than in after 4 you may sneer! I know that I am only a’ years. | boy, but I will not be the first boy to; Frank had not accomplished his object | ha avenge a wrong or bring retributive jus-/in coming to Wallace Coville, but he had} de ’) tice on the head of a villain. 'made* a discovery—the discovery of the? Coville made a gesture of scorn. iting. Now he felt sure something of a th “You talk as if you had lately escaped | serious nature had happened to his father, from a lunatic asylum. I fancy you have|and Wallace Coville knew what it was. been treading trashy stories, and you are| All at once, the mine owner turned} la trying to imitate some of the heroes you; square about, demanding: * he adinire.”’ _ ‘Boy, what is your-name?’’ fe ‘You are at liberty to fancy anything; ‘‘Frank Merriwell.”’ 10 you choose, sir.’ | ‘‘Merriwell, Merriwell,’’ repeated Co- ‘You are at liberty’to get out of this) ville, knitting his brows. ‘‘Why, Inever; office, and you had better go while you! heard the name before.’’ ; ean get away with a whole skin.’’ Then Frank remeinbered that his father ‘Don’t be in so much of a hurry. It} had wished certain parties to still believe b is plain you are very anxious to get rid of| him dead, and it was likely he had re- u me, but I am not easily driven.”’ turned to the West under a fictitious | “Oh, well, take vour time! If you! name. were a man, I’d throw you out. Asitis,; In an instant, like a flash of light,a; I will not have it said that I assaulted aj new thought came to Frank’s brain. | boy.” Jason Carter—Was he not Charles | ‘’Phat lets you off easy. You might); Carter Merriwell? wee find one boy who would not keep still and| To be sure! There could be no doubt let you throw him out. I am quite sure,of it. And Carter had been Coville’s you have found one you cannot bluff, and | partner. you have begun to realize that fact.’ | It was plain sailing now, and every- | Coville sat down at his desk, and pre- | thing began to clear up rapidly. tended to resume work, but his hand; Coville, had murdered his partner, and ‘shook so that he could not write, and he} thus he had come into possession of the | was forced to keep his teeth set and his, ring. ‘ back stiffened. He felt as if he had com-, But it had not been merely to get the | pletely wilted. ring that the man did the deed. In fact, Frank stood watching him, quite aware it was doubtful if the possession of the that he was putting the man to no small ring had been considered. aiount of discomfort. The boy longed to; Together they had opened the Giant gain possession of that ring, but he could} Mine, Coville furnishing the capital. see no way of succeeding at that time. | He had seen that the mine would make lt is true that Frank Merriwell was also,one man enormously rich, and he had aware that he must find a powerful andj longed to own it wholly, entirely.. ‘Al- though he might never have seen the | with his riches, held all the advantage in | inine but for Carter, he did not take that dangerous enemy in the mine owner, who, any struggle that might arise between | into consideration. He had thought that | them. ‘it was not right for Carter to lay back and | But Frank was dauntless, and he be- | risk nothing in working ‘the mine and fieved that, in most cases, right and jus- receive one-half of the profits. - His greed tice triumphed. In youth one is likely to, had made him, desire everything, and it in after 4 Ss object he had of the? ng of a father, was. turned d -Co- never father elieve id re- itious | rht, a larles | loubt ille’s very- 7 and the ; the | fact, the iant tal. ake had Al- the hat hat ind ind | ed oat: : ; j FRANK MERKIWELL had led him to comuiit a dark and terrible deed. ‘Frank shuddered as he thought what the fate of his father possibly was. “T will avenge him!’ The words seemed to run through the his life ) lad’s head. Never before in all had he experienced such a revengeful feeling. It was so strong and overpower- ing that he himself was awed by it. Gradually an expression of relief had come to the repellent face of the agitated mine owner. “YT never heard the name of Merriwell before,” he repeated. ‘‘You are barking up the wrong tree, young man.”’ PNet.a -bif,..of it,’’ firmly ‘‘T presume you have heard the retorted Frank. name of Carter ?’’ ‘‘Tason Carter was my partner.’ ‘Exactly. My naine Charles Carter Merriwell.’’ ‘What of that?’ ‘*T am satisfied that Jason Carter, whose niysterious disappearance I believe you father’s was can explain if you wish to do so, was none other than my father.”’ The boy saw a queer look pass across the face of the mine owner. ‘Why .should your father be known under any but his right name?’’ asked Coville. “Because he had foes—deadly foes. ‘There were men who thirsted for his life —imen who longed to kill him, rob him of that ring, obtain this mine.’’ “Phat sounds more than ever like the wild fancy of some story-teller’s brain.”’ ‘It is true, no matter how \it may sound.’ “Well, I know nothing of any one but You imagine he was your to:. but I He never jason Carter. father, or “pretend have no think so. told anything of himself or his affairs. There Was an.agreement between us that when reason. -to me sone died the mine was to fall to the Sak crt anaes) rage ‘Coville had spoken a few words- to this™ ‘man, the ruffian also hastened toward the = iN ARIZONA. “What kind of an agreement ?”’ ‘(A written, signed, and wituessed agree- ment.’ “You have it now?”’ c¢ 5 [ have.’ ‘Will you let me see it.”’ “No.” “Why not ?”’ ‘“Because I do not care todo so. If it ever becomes necessary, I can and will produce it in proving my right .as solé claimant to and owner of the Giant~ Mine.”’ : “Very well, Mr. Wallace Covilleyd will not trouble more. However, before I go, I will tell you that a correct and accurate from the lines on the stone of that ring. That [tay be you chart was made chart I have in my possession. valueless; if may be worth a great deal. You will hear more from me. Good-day.”% Frank took his departure. CHAPTER IV. A- PEACEFUL PARSON. Frank Merriwell walked swiftly on his way back to the hotel. He did not seé Wallace Coville come to the door of the = office and make a signal toa big, red= 4 whiskered man who was loafing neat at 4 did he observe that, after @ hand, noi New York Hotel. The boy’s face was hard and set. Hew was fully convinced that his father had been foully dealt with, and that the pres==> ent owner of the Giant Mine had been the instigator of the deed. “5 Believing this, Frank saw before him the task of learning all the black truth ‘and bringing the guilty wretch to justicer, ‘‘He shall not eseape !”’ | Those were the words which Frank re ‘peated over and over to himself: i | Just as he: reached. the -steps hotel, the red-whiskered ruffian ¢ ee Bag fat, . + Ses ™ s if aed 2 ee a ©, behind, ran heavily against him, and fell| aside with a snarling exclamation. Frank, “I beg your pardon,’’ said quietly. ““Oh, yer does, does yer!’ grated the tough citizen. ‘‘Wa-al, that don’t go with me, kid, unless yer gits down on yer) knees an’ beseeches it most humble like.”’ In a moment Frank realized that he. had a hard character to deal with and that the man was looking for trouble. The boy quickly faced about. Just then he was not in a mood to be bluffed. “You want me to get down on my kntes and ask your pardon ?’’ “That’s whatever I does, an’ yer’d better be about it derned lively! You hear | me chirp!”’ “What will you, do if I do not get | down on my knees to you?”? “Do? Why, yer skin, I'll chaw) yer up—I’ll make a lunch off yer! “ain’t big enough fer a squar’ meal.’ dern You | ‘Then you had better begin by taking | a bite at once.”’ ewe hat?’? ‘‘I say you had better begin "a bite at once.”’ by taking | “Vou won't down bones ?’’ **Nary git, git on yer 2a es pat marrer- | my strawberry blonde.’’ | through a wild war-dance, as he rolled up| the sleeves of his woolen shirt. ‘‘Straw-| berry blonde! Wow! Give me room! I’m | goin’ ter scatter yer all over ther street!’ | Sail in.’ | Frank «was cool as ice. He knew the | tuffian was dangerous, and he was not at -all pleased by the scrape into which he “had fallen, but he had learned self- | “reliance, and, boy though he was, could not be bluffed. tae a character reader, Frank Merri- he| ‘“Whoop!’’ howled the ruffian, going |” | him flat in the dust. haere & FRANK MERRIWELL iN ARIZONA. |easily and quickly cowed if the trick were | oy | done i in the proper manner, a And he had not forgotten the revolver aly ‘in his pocket. os ‘Yer don’t know mie,’’ roared the eee p tough, as he spat on his hands. ) ‘I haven’t that misfortune, I am happy os ; Ci to Say. “H ‘Woosh!’ Misfortune! Holy. smoke! ai, But you de-want, to be chawed up! Ill . 7 (tell yer who I am. In Ben Bolt, ther cS. feller what ther song was writ about, only - = lsome chump twisted ther words round dg ‘ther wrong way. They wuz all about-me who iter begin with, an’ this: wus ther way a they run: — “Does yer remember Jim Corbett, Ben } 4dtes Bolt— : | mol Jim. Corbett, as yer done up so brown? eA |He thought he wuz a dandy, Ben Bolt; | yer But yer put him ter sleep in one roun’.’? ‘ ‘You must be a regular slugger.’’ = “Oh, I am; I’m a holy. terror on - trucks. ~When I gits ter goin’, you want | - to clear ther road an’ stan’ from under.”? | = ‘Vou alarm nie.’ . = | ‘Then git down on yer marrer bones, a ‘an’ beg my pardon instanter.”’ | : ‘F couldn’t think of it, Ben Bolt.’? = ‘Then I'll put ser down!”’ . . He made a grab for Framk’s neck. } : The boy dodged, and then, quick as a } f |flash, standing on the step ina position | that brought him on a level with the 'desperado, he brought round his right fist | with a heavy, swinging motion, ‘fairly on Ben Bolt’s jaw. Never in all his life had the fellow been more astonished, for that blow. knocked He sat up quickly, staring at the boy in amazement, gasping: ‘(Say 1)? ‘What?? | ‘““‘Who threw something ?”’ ‘‘Nobody.”’ "5 Se “Did you hit me with a | chunk of landing “k were volver d the 1 Nappy noke! Pll , ther only ound t me way Ben | Lb 6 o-9 ) on ant ee tena FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA, 11 SONG: |the Snow Flake saloon at nine o’clock ‘“What did yer hev in yer hand ?”’ |this evening, and I trust I may have the : a s “ ‘Nothing. | pleasure of seeing you among those there ‘An’ you knocked me down with yer|assembled.”’ eee > af : bare fist ?’’ PS es Liner rai Flake? Wow! , * | “*T did.’ | ‘I don’t believe it!”’ | ‘‘Who is Andy Barter, brother?’ ‘Come again.’ , ‘‘Dern me ef I don’t, au-I’ll paralyze ‘lake, an’ he’s hot stuff, you bet yer!’’ k boots ! Has Andy Barter said yer could preach theres ‘““He’s ther gent as runs ther Snow yer The ruffian scrambled to his feet; but,| ‘‘I have not asked Brother Barter any- am . ‘ . | ° at this moment, a solemn-looking, long-|thing about it, but I go where I haired man came down the steps, having | called.’’ ; Witnessed what had passed between the; ‘‘Wa-al, ye’ll go whar'you’re sent 1 man and boy. This person was dressed in| case you tries. ter spout “gospel in black clothes, and wore a long black coat. > ‘““Peace. brother, peace,’’ he said,.ad-|ther door on ther toe of Andy’s boot.’ ’ es ) ’ 7 in ther ~ A 1 ‘ > 4 ‘ Snow Flake, an’ thet’ll be right out of , . > dressing Ben Bolt. ‘‘Attempt not to} Quite a crowd had now gathered -# ‘ce molest this gentle lad.”’ } around, and the rough men were grinning ‘Gentle lad !’’ snorted the ruffian. ‘‘Did | at the strange parson and making derisive: med yer see him soak me?’’ |remarks, none of which the man se ‘“‘T did, brother; but you provoked him to hear. : to wrath.. Iam sure h@would not have| Frank had temained quietly on the . done so otherwise. You know the Good 'steps, rather amused by the turn affairs Book saith ye shall be long suffering and|had taken. slow unto anger.’’ : ‘Whoop! What's ther matter with jon the boy, eas | Now, however, the ruffian again turned: yer? Be you a gospel sharp?”’ | “*Yer hit me by accident, an’ I made a Vil “‘T am an humble but unworthy servant misstep an’ tumbied down; but now in the vineyard, doing the best I can in | hammer your face!’ ) my poor way to bring sinners unto repent- ‘‘You had better not try it,’’ warned ance before it is everlastingly too late.’? | Frank, calmly. “Wa-al, you've struck a right bad town) = ‘‘Bah!”’ fer your business, an’ I advise yer ter git Ben Bolt started to strike the lad, out instanter.’’ ‘he stopped suddenly, with his fist ‘“‘T go wherever I am called.” “Wa-al, yer ain’t got no call ter ineddle|a revolver. with this yere difficulty, so git out!’’ ‘Peace, brother—peace once again. | hand, and it was steady and firm asa1 Strife and contention are distasteful to me, | You are a ruffian and a bruiser,” and I entreat you to ‘restrain your angry | passions,’ | soon find out. _Ther boys don’t care fer|shoot the roof of your head - if preachin’, an’ they won’t hev it.”’ lmove toward me another inch.’ ‘‘Oh, I think you are mistaken, brother, | Ben Bolt glared, but he saw that Frank At any rate, I have decided to preach in | Merriwell meant npgicttG what he said. » but» up- 6c said 9 the lad; ‘‘but this makes me your mate By aut brute strength you might bes “Git out, parson! That kind of guff lable to beat me senseless. However, you™ don’t go in this yere place, as you’ll right | will not be given the opportunity, for PIP you 4 t ‘lifted, staring straight into the muzzle of = , t The revolver was held in Merriwell’soe 12 KRANK MERRIWELL iN ARIZONA, “Be careful with the deadly weapon,; And the peaceful parson began to re- my young brother!’ cried the parson,|move his coat in a very business-like quickly. ‘‘You are commanded not to} manner. shed human blood.”’ | ce Pe Self-defense is the first law of nature.’ | : ae : Rita Clas? ‘ s T } S33 } CHAPTER V. Strife and contention I abhor. ‘1 gate gait ie 7 mr 4 ARA Phen you have conie to a poor place | A GENTLEMAN FROM FRANCE. for your peace of mind.” ie i on ‘ , 2 Dich tle Since neater = ic Sree e “JT believe in avoiding trouble in all 3oth ruffians stared in astonishment, cases.’ and the crowd roared with laughter. rs a ° . . ‘ Cte“ . . wives $2) ews ; ‘There are times when it is impossible, Go it, old socks!’ cried one. ‘and this seems to be one of theim.”’ ‘Give him gospel!’ adjured another. 3 : : < OM » en. “You can’t do it again.’’ Then he got upon his feet, keeping his eyes on the parson, who made no offer. to take an advantage of him as he was get- ‘‘T’]] do yer this yar time, Old Gospel!” snarled the ruffian. Je approached the parson in a manner that plainly indicated he had learned to be cautious. The slender man in black calmly awaited the fellow’s attack. Of a sudden, the bruiser closed in, striking heavily at the parson’s face. It] was intended for a knock-out blow, and 3 such it would have been if it had landed. | | The parson guarded and countered with i his left. 3en Bolt’s fist was thrust upward into the air, and an opening was made, through /which the parson struck with a swinging, rcund-shoulder movement. It seemed as if something broke when the hard knuckles of the man in black 4 were planted under the bully’s ear. Down dropped Ben Bolt, like’a lifeless thing, fairly and beautifully knocked out. Mike, the Irishman, had sat up in time @ ito see this, and he now said: “It’s a mistake we made, Oi’m think= in’, fer thase gintlemin are not in our ,elass. Oi don’t care fer thot koind. ay medicine, an’ so QOj'll jist kape Binny ¥ ’ ‘company. ’ Then he deliberately lay down in the ‘dust once more. ’? ‘*The trouble is over,’’ shouted some= ‘body in the crowd. At this moment, Frank heard a familiar voice call: ‘“Vrankie.”’ H He looked up, and saw Hans Dunner- = wust leaning out of a window above. “Uf you don’d vant some hellup in dot 2 row, Vrankie, why ain’d you said so 2) gg demanded the- Dutch boy, reproachfullys © ‘*Vaitan hour und I peen down und stood a pehind you.”’ aa Ee You're too late,’’ laughed Frank. ag The delighted aud admiring crowd ‘flocked around the boy and the parson, and, before the two could comprehend the= .intention of the mob, they were lifted on * sb > AS FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA. broad shoulders and carried toward the | and every person present was required to Snow Flake saloon. | take a glass. There was no way of escaping, and so | Then, for the first time, Frank observed they submitted as gracefully as possible. a striking-looking man, who stood upon a Right into the saloon they were carried, - box. and called the attention of the crowd and twenty men ordered drinks for the | by proposing a toast. po victors. | This man was tall and_ finely formed. ; “Brothers,” called the parson, ‘‘I fully | He was dressed ina black velvet sult, on | -appreci jate the kindness of your hearts, | which were buttons of gold. His hat, a = but I never look on the whisky when it is| ' ted, for it biteth feo a serpent and, | stingeth’ like an adder. “fam with you, parson,’’ said Frank. »»| Which a tasty silk tie was passed round soft, fashionable affair, was encircled by a gold cord. On his feet he wore wine- ,colored tan shoes. His handsome negligee aisle had a wide, starched collar, beueath “I never drink under any circumstances.’’ “Stick to that, my boy. Wine is and knotted. In the knot sparkled a dia- is a j . 1 q . é ] Ousé ] ] = "mocker, strong drink is raging, and who- |mond that. contained a thousand colored ‘soever is deceived thereby is not wise.’ The crowd was greatly disappointed. “We want ter drink ter ther health o’ ther swiftest parson an’ ther smartest kid | © we ever saw,”’ said one. fires. A gold chain was strung across his | vest “ie another diamond gleamed from Ras one ring he wore upon his left hand. ut it was the man’s face that attracted Frank Merriwell’s attention. The flesh es bore a cold, deathly pallor, like marble “Then drink in, water,’’ said the par- v4 : “son, ‘‘and we will drink with you. Come, | brothers and friends, surprise your stom-' achs and satisfy us by drinking water.” ‘“Water ?’’ cried one old bummer, with jas if this man had long been confined in some dark dungeon. His eyes were dark |and piercing, alive with the fires of youth; | but lis long. hair was snowy white, as pha se. WI ae nee |likewise were his mustache and imperial. » avery red nose. Nhat is water, any- hee rige ada paint se Bt s | ._A low cry of wonder was forced from oat how ; Psa j ‘ . . . ef = : — ps a i Frank Merriwell’s lips, as. he stared at 7 | ’ C ri y. ¢ ” ac > c . . . . : can’t drin t ar protested another. this striking figure. It'll make me sick. | “That face!’ whispered the boy, to ee 4+ ; Asaw the whole affair,’’ said AT i himself. ‘‘I have seen it beforé! It is the “B: tor © ( é I ; i Batter, the proprietor of the saloon; ‘‘and | Hace of No, no! I must be. mis if.the parson and the kid say water, water taken! cs , . q ,wWaT cq} , . ee: Every blamed galoot hyar drinks | ‘‘Genteelmen,’’ said the stranger on the water with the parson and the kid. Hold. ] | box, ‘‘I see ze fight. Het was wondareful gon, thar, Red-nose Jerry!” he called, | _ cet was er-r-reat! Genteelmen, I am a : ‘sharply, whipping a revolver out from \strangaire in your countaree, but een my e beneath the bar and covering an old bum- owl countaree, in France, I sometime see mer, who was hurrying toward the door. | “You can’t escape. Once more in your| |some wondareful things. Nevaire have I ; ‘seen ze bettaire fight zan zat. dama life you’ll have to stand up and take | off, water.’ zare in ze French armee—JI hole ze “Well, if ther stuff kills me, you'll Rabian Danglar. Genteelmen, Marshal ~ have to pay the funeral expenses,’’ whim-, _Danglar propose to you ze toast. Here to _ pered the bummer. . ‘ze health of ze parzone; may he be suc- Andy Barter and his barkeeper quickly ‘cessful in ze conversione of souls: au ed aS long row of glasses with water, r, [here to ze pole of Frank Merriwell ‘commissione of marshal. My name ees ee | | ce dens ws FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA. 15 may he solve ze mysteree zat breeng him here—may he learn ze secret zat ees buried in ze black depth of ze ground. Drink heartee’ CHAPTER VI. DANGLAR’S WARNING. Frank was astonished. haired, marble-faced, fire-eyed Frenchman knew him, knew his name, knew more. What did he mean by speaking of a| you t’row ze Ireeshman ovare your head 4 secret buried in the heart of the ground? The question flashed through Frank’s mind in a moment. For the briefest space of time the boy was dazed, but he swiftly recovered, and then he drank with th 1% Jerry, the old toper, pretended to drink, but he managed to deftly toss the water on the floor, and he was heard to imutter: **T. don’t take no chances—I don’t. There ain’t no knowing how long I’d be if I took a drink of water, and J) sick might drop dead.”’ ‘“Now, dear friends in sin,’’ said the parson, ‘‘I wish to announce that I will speak a few words of spiritual comfort in | I this place this evening at nine o’clock, and I hope to see you all present.’’ Andy Barter gasped. ‘*Well, that’s what I call nerve!’ he Then he thumped “But A parson that can fight | cried, in a dazed way. the bar with his fist, and declared: it goes, you bet! the way this one can oughter have a chance to talk gospel, and I’m honored his selecting my saloon. regular customers stay away this night I shall consider it a personal insult.”’ ‘We'll all come,’’ cried the crowd. The parson expressed his thankfulness, and then, begging them to excuse him, hastily left the saloon. Frank would have followed the parson, but he wished to havea word with Fabian Danglar, for which purpose he lingered. The Frenchman soon came toward the| before I have zis bodee zat you see no 14 yt: : ; his white-|daire for a boyee. know me.”? “2 ee CY m If any of my y boy, and Frank felt his heart rising into He spell-bound by eyes and that his mouth as the man approached, seemed fascinated and those wondrous black ‘deathly white face. ; | ‘“Mistaire Merriwell,’? said Danglar, | with the polished politeness that 4s natural to a Frenchman, ‘‘you are a wons Zat treek you do when. [you knock ze beeg rufhan down ‘was | | goode, but zat ozare treek you do when | was vera much battaire. And you do uot \dreenk ze whizkee. Ah! zat ees goodel INevaire touch ze whiskee, for eet have lruined vera many men.’”’ | The face, the the eyes—all | seemed strangely familiar to Frank Merrie | j well; but still the boy could not remem= ber that he had ever met Marshal Danglar before that day. voice, There was something fascinating about the man, something awesome. 3 ‘‘T thank you for your compliments,” 4 ‘said the lad, with an effort. Danglar waved his hand with a graceful © ) movement. x | ‘‘I speak ze trute, Mistaire Merriweli— 'I always speak ze trute. Sometime my ae they be not so pleasant to semeés i | bodee. ”? : | ‘How is it that you know me???’ ques- ~ [tioned Frank. ‘a The man smiled ina mysterious way. . ‘I know manee people zat do nevare | | ‘‘It almost seems that I have seen rou ~ | Your face, your voice, and your eyes seem strangely familiar.’’ | before. ““Zat may be ze trute. Do you believes) in ze transmigration of ze soul? Do you~ Ibelieve zat everybodee have live matee ‘lives before ze one zey live now? I believe ‘in zat, Mistaire Merriwell. I even remem- \baire some of ze things what I do when 1 live some ozare life in some ozare bodee - poiai ee ‘16 FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA. “Maybe we oe zen, and we remembaire| ‘‘Perhaps so.’’ each ozare.’ | ‘You are pritee sure to do zat, for you ; From any other man these words night | \do what you try todo. You have ze way | have seemed ridiculous to the boy; but!of always coming out at ze top in any- there was something about Fabian Dang-|t’ing. But I have to warn you.”’ lar that made them strangely impressive, | ‘Warn me?’’ P and Frank shivered a little, although ‘‘Oui Mistaire Merriwell.’’ ’ he forced a laugh. | “Of what?” » “Y scarcely think that is why I remem-)| ‘‘Dangare—vera great dangare.”’ - ber you,”’ he said. ‘‘It is possible I do| ‘‘What kind of danger ?’’ | mot remember you at all; it may be mere, ‘‘Danger of your life.” euancy- e : | ‘How is that ?”? '~ Danglar’s eyes seemed piercing him ‘‘You have in zis place one enemee—he _ through and through, and Frank fancied | hate you, and, zough you be one boyee, : they could read his secret thoughts. “he fear you at ze same time. Eet was “Oh, I-don’t think eet ees ze fancee. leem zat set ze beeg ruffaine on you. Zat “You do not believe ze t’ings zat I believe, | ruffaine was to pound you teel you was *Mistaire Merriwell.’’ | keeled by ze ace*Jent some way.’’ _ “You knew my naine.”’ | You must mean Wallace Coville?” _**T found it out at ze hotel.”’ | Dangilar said nothing. “You spoke of something strange. ”’ | ‘Are you sure he sent the ruffian after ‘What was zat?’’ line ?”? eagerly asked the boy. Or a act eieghh I came to Powder Gap| ‘I am sure your enemee do zat.’’ to solve.’ | ‘J can have no other enemy in Powder ~ Zat ees trute.’’ Gap, so he must be the one.”’ = oo oe in the ground,”? | “Zen look out for heem ; zat ees all. ) PRR i Bimeby I see you again latare.”’ “What did you mean by it ?’’ ; Danglar shrugged his shoulders. “Ask me somet’ing easee.’ -"Do you mean that you cannot tell?” ‘Sometime I say t’ings zat I do not know ze meaning of myself. I do not} know zat I am going to say zem, but when I speak zey come out.”’ Politely bidding Frank adieu, the strange Frenchman left the saloon. Wondering at what he had heard, the boy soon followed Danglar, although the crowd would have kept him longer. Frank was supplied with plenty of food for reflection. He still felt that he had “Vou surely knew what you were say-|S¢eu the Frenchman somewhere before ing then.”’ | this meeting in Powder Gap, but where ~ “Perhaps.” 'or when it was impossible for him to tell, _**You do not deny it.”’ “T deny nottings, Mistaire Merriwell.”’ Frank was more puzzled than ever, and “utterly baffled by the man’s manner. He) Frank felt drawn toward him in a most ; ‘ my sterious and unaccountable manner | ‘ ; o | There was something awe-inspiring about the man with the white hair, mar- ible face, and coal-black eyes, and yet | It was certainly wonderful. that ‘the ‘well, and the boy felt that his warning e | was to be heeded. _ WN. allace Cov ille was ich and powerful, ‘man knew so much about Frank Merrti- th he in’ th th ju CO de Li FRANK MERRIWELL IN ARIZONA. and he was certainly a enemy. That Coville had sent Ben Bolt to pick a quarrel with Frank was something the lad had not suspected, but now he did not | doubt it in the least. It was plainly Coville’s object to drive | Powder Gap, or fix him so, the lad from he could never make any troublesome investigation of the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Jason Carter. Knowing this beyond a doubt, was more than ever determined to truth bring Coville to Frank know the entire and justice. Then he thought of 4 Danglar’s words concerning a ‘‘secret hidden in the black depths of the earth.’’ ‘