Frank Merriwell's Bravery Part 49

"We ain't got time ter listen; but I'll tell you a leetle story. You know ther babby-gal whut yer saw at our camp?"

The hermit bowed, and then, as if a suspicion of the truth had flashed over him, he fiercely grasped the guide with both hands, hoa.r.s.ely demanding:

"Has anything happened to her? Tell me--tell me quick!"

With a few well-chosen words, Old Rocks told exactly what had happened.

The hermit seemed overcome with horror and dismay.

"She must be saved!"

"You're right; but how wuz we ter foller ther red varmints 'thout a canoe. Now they hev got clean away."

"I will find her!" cried the hermit, with one hand uplifted, as if registering a vow. "I will find her and restore her to--hold! How did she happen to be with you?"

A further explanation was in order. Frank told how Fay had appeared in time to save himself and Barney from being attacked by Half Hand and the Blackfeet, what she had told them, how they had taken her to the camp, and how Old Rocks had agreed to find her mother with the coming of another day.

The guide and the boy believed the Hermit must be little Fay's father, and they watched him closely as he listened. When Frank had finished, the strange man eagerly asked:

"Her name--her full name--did you learn it?"

"No. She told us her name was Fay, and that her mother sometimes called her Fairy Fay; but we were unable to learn her last name."

"From whut we saw in ther camp, we allowed as how it wuz likely you hed seen ther babby afore, an' you knowed her proper name," insinuated Old Rocks.

The Hermit did not answer the implied question.

"Come," he said, "follow me. I have a canoe."

"I s'pose we can't do any wuss," mumbled Old Rocks; "though I don't prezactly know how we're goin' ter trail them critters through ther warter."

The Hermit moved along at a swinging stride, and they followed him through the morning twilight.

Less than half a mile had been covered when the man in advance suddenly paused, uttering an exclamation of surprise.

Straight ahead, amid the trees of a little grove on the sh.o.r.e, they beheld the snowy outlines of a tent.

In a little park beyond the camp could be seen the dusky outlines of horses feeding. Close to the open flap of the tent two dogs were curled, both sleeping soundly, so silent had been the approach of the trio.

The light in the eastern sky was getting a pink tinge, and, with each pa.s.sing moment, objects could be seen more distinctly.

A tiny column of blue smoke rose from the white ashes of the camp-fire, telling that a brand still smoldered there.

There was a stir within the tent. There were m.u.f.fled grunts, a yawn or two, the rustle of clothing, faint sounds of footsteps, and then the flap of the tent was flung wide open, and a man came out into the morning air. He paused and stretched his limbs, standing so the trio obtained a fair view of him.

With a sudden, hoa.r.s.e cry, the Hermit rushed forward and confronted the man.

"Foster Fairfax!" he shouted, with savage joy; "at last we are face to face!"

CHAPTER x.x.x.

SEARCH FOR THE TRAIL.

"Preston March!"

The man who had just stepped out of the tent fell back, a look of astonishment, not unmingled with fear, on his face.

"Yes, Preston March!" cried the Hermit. "You know me, and I know you, treacherous friend, base scoundrel that you are!"

The man called Foster Fairfax lifted his hands, as if to ward off a blow.

"Preston, it was a mistake--a fearful mistake."

"For you--yes! I have sworn by the heavens above to have your life if fate ever threw you across my path. I shall keep that oath!"

"I expect it."

"Then draw your weapon, and defend yourself! I shall not murder you in cold blood. Draw, draw!"

"No! Shoot, if you will! I'll never lift a hand against you."

"Coward?"

The Hermit was quivering with fury, while the face of the other man was still ghastly white.

Other men came from the tent, rubbing their eyes, all of them very much surprised. One of them attempted to intervene.

"Here!" he cried, addressing the Hermit; "what do you mean by coming into this camp and raising such a row? Are you insane? You are not going to do any shooting here!"

Old Rocks strode forward, Frank Merriwell at his heels.

"I'll allow as how the Hermit has fair play," said the guide, grimly.

"He ain't alone in this yar deal."

"Who are you?" demanded the man, haughtily. "Are we to be a.s.sailed by a band of desperadoes?"

"None whatever. I'm hyar ter see fair play. I'll allow thar's some deeficulty atwixt these yere gents, an' ther Hermit feels like settlin'

right now an' yere."

"It is an outrage! You have no right to come here and make trouble.

Fairfax, if that ruffian touches you----"

Foster Fairfax motioned the speaker to be silent.

"This man is not a ruffian," he declared, speaking as calmly as possible. "There is a misunderstanding between us. I have wronged him, and he has a right to seek satisfaction."