LITMIR.BIZ

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I thought the same," said Frank. "How it comes that he is here I cannot understand."

      "It's a moighty bad scrape he is in, me b'y."

      "That is right. Now I know what Miskel meant when she said my friends had arrived and were already in the snare."

      "The profissor makes but wan, an' she said 'friends.'"

      "That is right. She must have meant Clyde and the others. That would make it appear that the professor came with them."

      "Sure."

      "In that case, where are Clyde and the two explorers, Graves and Kerney? Have they been killed already?"

      "It moight seem thot way."

      "It appears likely; but, if such is the case, I cannot understand why Professor Scotch was spared."

      "No more can Oi, Frankie."

      The boys were at their wits' end, and they were in an intensely agitated frame of mind.

      Suddenly Frank clutched Barney's arm, pointing down into the pocket, and crying:

      "Look! look! the professor has broken away! He is running for his life! But he cannot escape! They are hot after him."

      It was true. The little man had made a desperate break for liberty, but it was folly to do so, as the Danites soon overtook him. One of them, a stout man, with a short white beard, held a revolver in his hand. He reversed the weapon, grasping it by the barrel, and struck the professor down with the butt.

      The sight made Frank's blood boil.

      "I will remember that wretch!" grated the boy, his eyes glowing. "If we do not get out of here, I may be able to square a score with him!"

      Barney was scarcely less wrought up.

      "Poor profissor!" he exclaimed. "It's loikely the divvils will finish him now."

      The Danites stood over the man, who had fallen on his face, and lay in a huddled heap. They were talking loudly and making excited gestures. It was plain that they were discussing the advisability of dispatching Professor Scotch without delay, and, judging from his movements, the man with the short white beard was for finishing him without delay. Twice the man pointed his revolver at the prostrate figure, and twice a younger man seemed to urge him to spare the unlucky man's life.

      "If he shoots, I'll try a shot at him from here!" cried Frank. "I may not be able to reach him, but I'll try it."

      A third time the man pointed his revolver at the motionless form of the man who lay huddled on the ground. This time no one of the group interfered; all stood back, and the younger man, who had twice saved Scotch's life, turned away, plainly unwilling to witness the deed.

      "He's going to shoot!" panted Frank, pulling forward his rifle, and bringing it to his shoulder. "I will——"

      "Wait a bit, me b'y. Look there! Th' litthle girrul is thrying to save him."

      "God bless her!"

      Miskel had rushed into the midst of the men, and she was seen pleading with the man who seemed determined to kill the professor. At first, it seemed that she would fail, but she finally prevailed, and the man put up his weapon, with a gesture of angry impatience. Then he seemed to give some orders, and the unconscious captive was lifted and carried toward the camp.

      "He is saved for the time," breathed Frank, with relief; "but it is simply a respite."

      "Thot is betther than nothing, me b'y."

      "Yes, it is better than nothing. Barney, I have a scheme."

      "Spake out, Frankie. Me ears are woide open to-night."

      "If they spare Professor Scotch till to-night, we will go down there and attempt his rescue."

      "Oi'm wid yes, me b'y, to th' ind."

      They watched the men bear the unfortunate professor into the camp, and noted carefully the building into which the man was taken.

      "We must make no mistake to-night, Barney. It is our duty to do our best to save Professor Scotch."

      "An' we'll do our duty av we nivver do anything ilse, begorra!"

      "You are bold lads," said a voice behind them; "but you cannot save him from Uric Dugan."

      They whirled swiftly, and found Old Solitary had come up behind them, without being heard.

      "I found you had awakened," said the strange man; "and I wondered if you had come here."

      "And we wondered where you had gone."

      "I went forth to see what I should see," he said, in a peculiar manner. "Voices far away in empty space were calling to me—calling, calling, calling!"

      The boys shot hasty glances at each other, the same thought flitting through the minds of both.

      They had dealt with one maniac, and now was it possible that they were to encounter another?

      It had been dark when Old Solitary came upon them the night before, and so they were unable to study his face; but now they saw that his eyes were restless and filled with a shifting light, while his general appearance was that of a man deranged.

      Quickly leaning toward Barney, Frank whispered:

      "He must be humored; don't anger him."

      The man, although he could not have heard the words, noted that something was said, and he cried:

      "Why do you whisper together. Would you betray me? Is there no one in the wide world I can trust?"

      "Betray you?" said Frank. "To whom can we betray you? You have us in your power, and you can betray us to the Danites, if you choose. You need not fear that we shall betray you."

      "Then it must be that you are afraid of me. All the world seems to fear me. Why is it so? What have I ever done to make men afraid of me?"

      "Nothing evil, I am sure."

      "And you are right. It cuts me to have men shrink from me; but they do, and I have become an outcast. There is something wrong about me—I feel it here."

      His hand was lifted to his head, and his face wore a look of deep distress. He seemed to realize, in an uncertain way, that he was not quite right in his mind.

      "You have lived so much by yourself that you have grown unsocial," said Frank. "That must be the trouble."

      Old Solitary shook his head.

      "That is not it. Listen, and I will tell you something. Uric Dugan hates and fears me. I do not care for that; it gives me satisfaction. Still I do not know why it gives me satisfaction, for it pains me when others shrink away in fear. Dugan would kill me if he could, and still he seems to regard me as one risen from death. Can you tell me why?"

      He paused, looking at them in an inquiring way.

      "You can't tell," came swiftly from his lips, as Frank was about to speak. "No one can tell. I do not know myself. My memory is broken into a thousand fragments. Some things I remember well; some things I do not remember at all. There was a time when I was young, and I had friends. Who were my friends? What has happened to rob me of my memory? I believe Uric Dugan can tell me. If I had not believed so, Dugan should have died long ago. Scores of times I have held his life in the hollow of my hand. I have longed to slay him—to kill him for some wrong he has done me. My hand has been held by a power I could not see. A voice has whispered in my ear, 'Wait.' I have waited. For what? I do not know."

      He bowed his head on his breast, over which flowed his long white beard, and his attitude was one of intense dejection.

      The boys were silent, wondering at the strange man who had befriended them.

      Some moments passed.

      "By going forth early I saw many things," the man finally declared, speaking quietly. "You are not the only ones who have strayed into the net of the Danites."

      "We

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