Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 13

"Certainly," answered d.i.c.k, at once. "I think it will be a novel experience, and I want to go. If Brad does not--"

"Hold on, pard!" cried the Texan. "Wherever you go I go, you bet your boots! Mebbe I don't like it a heap, but I'm with you."

Bayazid left them and moved a short distance to the right. They watched him and saw the light of his torch fall on a black boat that lay motionless at the edge of the black lake. He stepped into the boat and soon brought it to the sh.o.r.e at their feet.

d.i.c.k and Brad followed the professor into the boat, which was large enough to accommodate two more persons, if the party had included them.

Bayazid had placed his torch in a socket that seemed arranged for it. He suggested that the others should extinguish theirs, as too much light close at hand would blind them, instead of making it possible for them to see better.

They accepted his suggestion, and slowly the boat slipped out upon the bosom of the soundless lake.

Suddenly there was a whirring rush through the air, and something brushed past the head of the professor, who uttered a squawk of alarm, struck out wildly with both hands and fell over backward off his seat to flounder in the bottom of the boat.

"Howling tornadoes!" gasped Buckhart. "Whatever was that?"

"A bat, effendi," answered Bayazid.

d.i.c.k laughed.

"Goodness!" palpitated the professor, as he finally struggled up to his seat. "I confess it did frighten me, boys. Made me think of those restless ghosts which are said to wander forever above the bosom of this lake. Hadn't we better go back?"

"Which way shall we go?" asked d.i.c.k.

They looked around. On every hand they saw nothing but marble pillars, shadows, and grim darkness.

"Waugh!" muttered the Texan. "I confess I couldn't follow the back trail."

"But Bayazid knows the way, don't you, Bayazid?" anxiously asked the professor.

"I know it, effendi," was the a.s.surance. "Trust me."

"I-I'm very glad you do!" breathed Zenas. "I think we will return at once."

But d.i.c.k urged that they should go on a little farther, as Bayazid was thoroughly familiar with the place and there was no danger that they would become lost.

Brad always stuck by d.i.c.k, and the two overruled the old pedagogue.

Therefore Bayazid paddled slowly on. Had they seen his face they might have become suspicious and alarmed, but the shadows hid the crafty and treacherous look his countenance wore.

Finally they paused again, amid the labyrinth of pillars. Without the guide, not one of them could have told which course to follow in order to return to the point from which they started.

Suddenly Bayazid uttered an exclamation and stood up in the boat, staring into the darkness beyond his pa.s.sengers.

Involuntarily the trio turned their heads to look, wondering what it could be that the guide saw.

Barely were their heads turned in that manner when the treacherous guide s.n.a.t.c.hed the torch from its socket and plunged it into the water. There was a hissing sound and instant darkness.

CHAPTER VII-LOST ON THE BURIED LAKE

d.i.c.k Merriwell had brought along a revolver. He drew it in a moment and held it ready for use, expecting something to happen in the Stygian darkness of that terrible place.

Professor Gunn cried out to Bayazid, demanding to know the meaning of his act.

"Get hold of the onery varmint!" advised Buckhart. "Let me put my paws on him!"

The Texan floundered about, rocking the boat somewhat.

"Be careful, Brad!" warned d.i.c.k. "You don't know what he will do! It may be intended for a joke, just to frighten us, and it may be intended for something else. I have a pistol. Keep away from him and let me do the business."

"Pup-pup-perhaps it's pup-pup-part of the regular pup-pup-programme,"

chattered Professor Gunn. "Pup-pup-perhaps they always pup-pup-put out the tut-tut-torch when they have pup-pup-pa.s.sengers on this old underground pup-pup-pond."

"Be quiet," directed d.i.c.k. "Bayazid."

He called to the guide, but there was no answer.

"Bayazid!"

Again he called. His voice echoed hollowly in the unseen arches above their heads.

"Why doesn't the blame fool answer?" growled Buckhart.

"Strike a match, Brad," directed d.i.c.k. "I'm holding my revolver ready for use, and I'll shoot, if necessary, the moment I can see what to shoot at."

The Texan lost little time in producing a match, but when he attempted to strike it he failed, the brimstone breaking off. Three matches were used before one burned. The light flared up, Buckhart holding it above his head. Its glow fell on the old professor and the two boys, and simultaneously they made an amazing discovery.

They were alone in the boat!

Bayazid, the guide, had disappeared!

d.i.c.k had his revolver ready for action, and he was standing in a half-crouching position, peering over the head of Buckhart at the place in the boat lately occupied by the guide.

"He's gug-gone!" gasped Zenas.

Brad dropped the match, and again they were buried in darkness which seemed to oppress them like an awful weight.

"Great catamounts!" said a voice that sounded strange and husky, but which d.i.c.k recognized as that of the Texan. "Where has he gone? What does it mean, partner?"

"It means that we are the victims of trickery of some sort," answered d.i.c.k, speaking in a low tone.

"It means that we are deserted to perish on the bosom of this awful buried lake!" came from the professor, in something like a moan. "I am to blame! I brought you here!"

"But whatever could be the object?" questioned Brad, in a puzzled tone.

"If it's robbery--"