Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 66

Our friends knew there must be more, but where were they?

"Now," said d.i.c.k, "as we are beginning to understand each other, we will inform you further that we are looking for a Spaniard by the name of Miguel Bunol. It is known that he proceeded up the river on the private yacht of a Turkish gentleman. I hardly fancy there is another such yacht on this part of the river."

"And so you think this man you seek must be on board my boat?"

"Exactly."

"He is not."

"Do you deny that he has been? Do you deny that he brought a young girl on board this yacht against her will?"

The owner of the yacht laughed disdainfully.

"Deny it?" he exclaimed. "Of course I do!"

"Then you lie!" shouted a voice, as Dunbar Budthorne came leaping from the steamer to the yacht and rushed forward to confront the cool Turk.

"I saw her brought on board! This is the yacht! She is here! Search the boat!"

CHAPTER x.x.x-HIS JUST DESERTS

The Turk did not shrink before Budthorne. He remained unruffled as he said:

"Very well; search the boat, gentlemen. As I know two of you to be responsible, you have my permission to look the yacht over from stem to stern."

"It's a bluff!" growled Buckhart.

But in his heart d.i.c.k was beginning to fear that neither Nadia nor Bunol would be found on the yacht.

Budthorne was greatly wrought up, and he urged the others to come on.

The Turk spoke to his companion, who stepped aside and disappeared.

A moment later lights flashed up all over the yacht.

The Turk stood smiling in the light of an electric lantern, his manner indicating his confidence in the result of the impending search.

The lights showed two men forward, where they had been standing in the shadow of the pilot house.

They were the pilot and engineer. One was a Greek and the other an Armenian.

"Are these all of your crew?" demanded John Coddington.

"Yes, sir."

Now that the lights were on, Professor Gunn came crawling cautiously over the rail onto the deck of the yacht, to which the steamer had been made fast.

"Hum! ha!" he coughed. "I must see that nothing is neglected. Proceed with the search, gentlemen."

Medjid Bey, the owner of the yacht, lighted a Turkish cigarette and puffed away with indifference as the boarders began searching the yacht.

It did not take long to search the small, but elegant craft from one end to the other, and not a trace of Nadia or Bunol was found.

Budthorne was infuriated. He seemed almost deranged.

"What have they done with her?" he cried. "What have they done with my sister?"

Brad and d.i.c.k held a consultation in low tones.

"We're tricked, pard," said the Texan. "The Spanish snake and the dirty Turk have fooled us. What can we do? They've carried Nadia off. I'm for taking that Mohammedan varmint by the throat and squeezing the truth out of him."

"I'm afraid we can't get at the truth that way," said d.i.c.k. "It is a bad piece of business."

"Bad! Pard, if that Spaniard harms a hair of Nadia's head I'll skin him alive! You hear me warble! I'll kill him by inches!"

d.i.c.k walked toward the stern of the yacht, which had swung quite close to the sh.o.r.e. Indeed, not more than twelve or fourteen feet of water lay between that end of the yacht and the bank, showing that the water was very deep there.

Merriwell stood looking into the shadows of the palm grove, feeling desperate and baffled. Suddenly in the gloom of the grove there was a red spout of fire.

The report of a pistol startled the peaceful night. d.i.c.k Merriwell dropped on the deck of the yacht. A roar of fury burst from the lips of Brad Buckhart. With two great leaps he reached the rail of the yacht and perched on it. Then he uprose and flung himself forward in a spring for the bank.

He cleared the s.p.a.ce and landed on the sh.o.r.e. Recklessly he charged into the palm grove, a pistol in his hand. The Texan believed his comrade had been shot down in a dastardly manner, and his heart was filled with a mad longing for vengeance.

He ran toward the spot where the flash of the weapon had been seen.

Through a dim bit of moonlight ahead of him a figure seemed to flit.

That glimpse was enough for the Texan. He flung up his hand and his pistol barked twice.

"Give me a fair look at ye, and I'll certain get ye!" he panted.

He came to some ruined steps of stone and stumbled down them, losing his footing and falling sprawling at the foot. But he was up in a moment, and again he fancied he caught a glimpse of a flitting form.

Crack! Once more he fired.

"Bet I nipped him then!" he snarled.

He continued the mad pursuit, little reckoning what might happen, thinking only that he might reach the person who had shot down his friend and wreak vengeance for the dastardly act.

Suddenly right ahead of him the red fire spouted and a singing bullet brushed his ear. At the same moment Brad struck his foot against a broken column of marble which had been unearthed from the ruins and went headlong to the earth.

It must have seemed that he had been dropped by the bullet. At any rate, with a cry of satisfaction, a man leaped up and came at him.

Buckhart rose to his knees. He had dropped his revolver, else he could have shot the other. As it was, the man flung himself on the Texan, hurling him backward to the earth.

"I have you," snarled a voice, "and when I am done both my enemies will be dead and out of the way!"

It was the voice of Bunol!