Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 14

"It's a plot-a plot, boys! We are objects of suspicion. That agent of the secret police suspected us of something. In this awful city to be suspected is to be doomed."

"I can't realize it yet," muttered d.i.c.k. "How could the guide get out of the boat?"

"I'll strike another match, pard," said the Texan. "Keep your gun ready for use."

"There are other torches," reminded d.i.c.k. "We placed them in the bottom of the boat. Find them, Brad, and light one."

During the interval that followed the Texan was heard feeling about the bottom of the boat. After a time he confessed:

"I can't seem to get my paws on them. I'll have to use another match.

The light will show us where they are."

Another match was lighted, but, though it was held and moved about to illumine the bottom of the boat, not a torch was discovered. When they realized that the extinguished torches were gone they sat up and looked into one another's eyes by the last gleams of the exhausted match, which Buckhart held until the blaze scorched his fingers.

For some moments silence followed.

Floating there on the motionless bosom of that black lake, no sound came down to them from the great city overhead. The stillness was appalling, yet all feared to speak, dreading the sound of their own voices.

Finally d.i.c.k asked:

"How many matches have you, Brad?"

"Not over four or five more."

"And I have none. How about you, professor-have you any?"

"Not one," was the despairing answer.

Suddenly Buckhart grated:

"I'd like to get my paws on the treacherous dog who deserted us in this fix! I'd certain fit him for a funeral! You hear me affirm!"

"I'm still unable to account for his action," said d.i.c.k. "If his object is robbery, surely he has taken a strange way to go about it."

"Perhaps he's counting on frightening us good and plenty," observed Brad. "Mebbe when he thinks we're so frightened that we'll be glad to cough up liberal he will appear and offer to conduct us back to the outer world."

"Let's call to him," eagerly suggested the professor. Then he lifted his voice and called loudly.

When he had repeated the cry three times, they listened.

"Didn't you hear a distant answer?" asked d.i.c.k.

"I judge whatever we heard was an echo," said Brad.

After a time they lifted their voices in a united shout, and then listened to the mocking echoes which fled from pillar to pillar and died in the unknown distance.

"No use!" moaned Professor Gunn. "I am satisfied that we are doomed!

We'll never leave this place alive, and our fate will forever remain a mystery!"

"I'm sure that was no echo!" exclaimed d.i.c.k, as far away in the darkness they seemed to hear an answer to their repeated shouts. "Be still and let me shout."

When he had lifted his strong, clear voice all hushed their breathing and listened.

There was a short interval, and then out of the black distance came a faint, far-away answer.

"Some one did shout, pard!" exclaimed the Texan. "It's a dead-sure thing!"

Excitedly they all joined in the hail that followed. The answer was more distinct.

d.i.c.k had found an oar, and he slowly propelled the boat in the direction from which the answering cries seemed to come. Occasionally they b.u.mped against the marble pillars, but these collisions did no damage.

Soon they could hear the answers to their cries and knew they were drawing nearer to the unknown person or persons who were thus responding.

Suddenly a tiny gleam of light showed amid the pillars at some distance.

"Looks like that's a match, pard," observed Buckhart. "I reckon I'll strike one, too."

He did so, but the other light disappeared even as he held his own above his head. Apparently his match was seen, for the voice of a man reached them, urging them to come in that direction.

By answering call for call they continued to draw nearer to the strangers, for they soon heard enough to satisfy them that at least two persons besides themselves were afloat on the bosom of that buried lake.

"One is a woman!" a.s.serted d.i.c.k.

Lifting his voice, he asked:

"Who are you?"

"We are Americans. Who are yo'?"

"We are Americans, too."

"What are yo' doing here?"

"We are lost-deserted by our guide."

"So are we. How many of yo' are there?"

"Three. How many of you?"

"Two; and somebody shall suffer fo' this outrage! Somebody shall pay the penalty fo' it! I'll have satisfaction as sho' 's my name is--"

"Major Mowbry Fitts, of Natchez, Mississippi," finished d.i.c.k.

"That's my name, suh! But yo', suh-why, is it possible that yo' are--"

"Professor Zenas Gunn, accompanied by d.i.c.k Merriwell and Brad Buckhart.

Is Miss Ketchum, of Boston, with you?"