BURT L. STANDISH Ultimate Collection: 24 Action Thrillers in One Volume (Illustrated) - Burt L. Standish

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parched for a swallow of water, his blood pouring like melted lead through his veins, his brain on fire, and still all his struggles were unavailing. Relentless, unwearying, bloodthirsty and sure as death, the Destroying Ones tracked him down. He might begin to fancy that he had escaped, that he had thrown them off his trail. At last, overcome by his terrible exertions, he might sleep, feeling certain that in a few more hours he would be beyond their reach. They would come upon him like shadows, and they would leave him weltering in his gore. A curse they have been, and a curse they shall remain till the last one of them all is perished from the face of the fair earth which they have polluted."

      The boys were spellbound by the intense language of the strange man. All fears that he might be one of the Danites departed from their minds.

      "Begobs!" gasped Barney; "it's Satan's oun brewing they must be!"

      "Come," said Old Solitary, "we must move on again. They will not find you, and the morning will see them on your trail."

      "If what you say is true, it were better to be trailed by bloodhounds or wild Indians," said Frank.

      "Far better. The Destroying Ones hastened to the slaughter with no more mercy in their hearts than is to be found in the heart of a fierce Apache. If they were instructed to kill, they believed it their duty—more than that, they would suffer the tortures of hell if they shirked or shrank from committing the deed."

      "Oi'm not faling well at all, at all!" sighed Barney. "An' it's caught we are in a place where such craythurs be! Och, hone! Whoy didn't we shtay with th' profissor?"

      Old Solitary again flitted away, and they hastened along at his heels. Now he was silent of lip and silent of foot. He seemed more like a shadow than anything else.

      For more than an hour he led them forward with great swiftness, and then they came to a small stream.

      "You must cover your trail," said the old man. "Follow me."

      He stepped into the running water, walking along the bed of the stream.

      They did not hesitate to follow in his footsteps.

      Before long they came to where the stream fell splashing and tinkling down the mountain.

      "Up," said Old Solitary.

      It was a difficult climb, but the boys were young athletes, and they would have been ashamed to let the man with the white hair and beard climb where they could not go.

      The stream was left, and, clinging to the points of rock with hands and feet, the old man still mounted higher and higher. He seemed to know every inch of the way, which became more and more difficult for the lads.

      "Begorra!" gurgled Barney; "we'll nivver get down from here, Frankie, me jool."

      "Well, we'll have no call to kick, if the Danites do not get up to us."

      "Thot's right."

      "But I cannot help thinking of Miskel's words. She declared that we were hopelessly snared."

      "She may have troied to scare ye to death, lad."

      "Well, what Old Solitary has said about the Destroying Angels has not made me feel any easier."

      At last they came to a shelf of rock, along which they crept, inch by inch, clinging fast and feeling their way, with a blue void of night above and beneath them.

      All at once a black opening in the face of the bluff yawned before them, and they saw the man of the white hair and beard standing in the mouth of a cave.

      "This is my home," declared Old Solitary. "They have not dared attack me here, even though they know where to find me. They consider me harmless, but some day they shall know the difference. Uric Dugan shall know my power!"

      He turned and entered the cave, and, still trusting all to him, they felt their way along after him.

      CHAPTER XX.

       MOUTH OF THE CAVE.

       Table of Contents

      After a time, Old Solitary lighted a torch, and they were enabled to follow him with greater ease.

      He led them into a circular chamber, where there was a bed of grass and some rude furniture of his own manufacture.

      "This is my home," declared the strange man. "For the present, you are safe here; but there is no way of getting out of here without passing through territory where the Danites will be found."

      "Then we are still in the meshes," said Frank.

      "You are still in the very heart of Danite land."

      "If what you say is true, then we cannot be safe here, for those human beasts know we are somewhere in the net, and they will find us, no matter what our hiding place may be."

      "That is true, but it will take time, and they fear me. They will not rush hither. You may sleep without fear to-night."

      "Surely we have need enough of sleep."

      "Then do not hesitate to slumber, for I need little sleep, and I will see that no harm comes to you."

      Frank would have questioned the man, but when he tried to do so in a manner that would not be offensive, Old Solitary suddenly became dumb, paying no heed to anything that was said.

      Frank and Barney talked for a long time. They were impressed with the belief that they were in the gravest peril, and yet they could do nothing more to save themselves till the opportunity came. To a large extent, they were in the hands of fate.

      Never before in all his life had Frank been utterly controlled by a feeling of utter inability to avert destruction by any effort of his own, even though his hands were free and he was armed. It seemed as if they had been doomed and were in a snare from which there could be no possible escape.

      Everything must be trusted to Old Solitary, that was certain. Feeling thus, Frank flung himself down on the bed of grass, and was soon sleeping soundly.

      It did not take Barney long to follow the example of his friend.

      They slept for hours. When they awoke the torch had burned out, and the chilly darkness of the cave was dense around them.

      "I wonder where Old Solitary is?" said Frank.

      They called to him and their voices echoed hollowly along the passages.

      No answer came.

      "Begorra!" cried the Irish boy; "It looks loike he had left us to oursilves."

      "It does seem that way," admitted Frank.

      Our hero remembered seeing in a niche the night before a collection of sticks that he fancied were for torches, and so, lighting a match, he sought them. He had made no mistake, for one of them lighted readily.

      "Our weapons are all right," he said, having made an examination. "It is probable that Old Solitary will soon return."

      They waited an hour, but the strange man did not appear. Both grew restless, and finally started out to explore the cave.

      With the aid of the torch, they picked their way along one of the passages. They were surprised at the distance traveled, and wondered when and where they would come out.

      Finally, a gleam of light was seen ahead, and, as they came nearer, the torch was extinguished.

      Climbing up a steep slope, they lay on their stomachs and peered out into the depths of a circular pocket that was inclosed by mountains on three sides.

      An exclamation broke from the lips of both.

      "A camp!" cried Frank.

      "It's a town, me b'y!" Barney almost shouted. "We're all roight, afther all!"

      "Easy!" cautioned Merriwell, quickly. "Keep your voice down. It is a town, but it is not the kind of a town we care to enter."

      "Pwhat's

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