"I, too, am waiting here until I come into my rights," said the boy. "Like you, I have been robbed. Unlike you, I'll not wait so long. Either I'll have what is mine, or I'll kill the man who has robbed me."

"'Thou shalt not kill.' To have the stain of blood on one's hands must be terrible."

"The Jaliscos belong to a family that kills."

At this juncture there came another knock at the door, but this time Felipe knew who it was.

He had the door open in a moment, and Bantry Hagan walked in.

"Oh, it's company you have, me boy!" exclaimed the Irishman, looking wonderingly at old Spooner.

"A gentleman who has the next room. He dropped in to borrow a needle and thread."

"It's careful you'd better be, Felipe."

"Never fear; it is all right."

The old man dragged himself up from the chair.

"I'll go back to my room," he said. "I hope I have not taken up too much of your time."

"Not at all, senor. I shall be pleased to have you come again."

When old Spooner was gone and the door closed, Hagan observed:

"What cemetery did you dig him from, Felipe? Who is he, me boy?"

"A deranged old man, who thinks he has invented something and that it was stolen from him. He expects to recover his rights and become very rich. He has the next room."

"Then it's careful we'd better talk, for he may hear."

"No danger, Senor Hagan, for he is extremely deaf. I am glad you came, for I was tired shouting to make him understand me. What is the good news you bring?"

"Things are moving, Felipe. By my soul, I believe this vengeful being is really keeping his oath to make it warm for Frank Merriwell. When I was here last night I told you that old Gripper Scott had been taken ill and that Warren Hatch was in the hospital from a smash-up that had broken several of his ribs."

"Si, senor."

"Felipe, my eyes have been opened since last night. Alvarez Lazaro dined with Watson Scott the night the latter was taken ill. He talked confidentially with the chauffeur of Warren Hatch a short time before Hatch was smashed up in his automobile."

"You think, Senor Hagan, you think—what?"

"Whist! Don't be after breathing that I told you; but it's a fancy I have that Senor Lazaro could tell us the cause of the mysterious illness of Watson Scott, and could explain just why the automobile of Warren Hatch plunged down an embankment and smashed him up, while his chauffeur leaped and escaped. Lazaro is striking first at the railroad builders."

"And I am cooped here!" cried the boy. "I'll stay no longer! Why should I? I'm going out! I'm going to have a part in this!"

"And it's pinched you'll be in a minute."

"The police——"

"Are looking for ye now, just the same. Besides that, this Merriwell is doing his best to get track of ye. I didn't wish to worry you, so I didn't tell how he tried to follow me last night when I came here."

"Did he? Did he?"

"Sure he did. I don't know just where he ran across me, but first I knew he was tracking me through the streets."

"You came just the same."

"When I had neatly given him the slip. Oh, I fooled him, Felipe. I left him to wonder where I had gone."

"Lazaro followed you here."

"Because I did not get my eye on Lazaro, as I did on Frank Merriwell. Don't worry, boy; he'll never find ye through me."

"If he came here, he'd not get away alive!" hissed Felipe.

"Make no mistake about him, me lad; he can fight with the best of them. Some friends of his have arrived in town, and I think they're taking up the most of his attention now. It's planning some sort of a trip they are."

"I can't stay here in this place much longer, Senor Hagan. I shall go mad!"

"Wait a little. I met Lazaro this morning on Broadway. Says he, 'If you see Felipe to-day, tell him I will come and cheer his heart with good news this night.' I'll drop round myself, so it's not lonesome you'll be."

"Well, I will wait a little longer," said Felipe.

* * * * *

Had it been possible for Hagan and Felipe to look into the next room just then they would have been greatly surprised by the singular conduct of old Spooner.

Between the two rooms there was a door, one panel of which was cracked. No longer bent and shaking, the man in the adjoining room was standing with one ear pressed close to the split panel. In spite of the fact that he had seemed quite deaf while talking with the Mexican lad, his appearance just now was that of one listening intently.

Shortly after Hagan left, Felipe heard the door of old Spooner's room open and close, following which there was a faltering, shuffling step on the stairs and the thump, thump, thump of a cane, growing fainter until it could be heard no longer.

"The old man has gone out to beg," thought Jalisco.

After leaving the house, old Spooner faltered along the street, turned several corners, and finally arrived at another house, which he entered.

Ascending one flight of stairs, he unlocked a door and disappeared into a hall room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Fully thirty minutes passed before that door was unlocked and opened again.

Out of that room stepped a tall, straight, clear-eyed, manly looking youth, who bore not the remotest resemblance to the tottering old man who had entered.

This youth ran down the stairs, left the house, and turned westward, swinging away with long strides.

"Merriwell," he muttered, as he walked, "I almost believe you could have been a successful detective had you chosen that profession."

Some time later he arrived at a Broadway hotel and found assembled in a suite of rooms several persons, who greeted his appearance with exclamations of great satisfaction.

"We were getting worried about you, Frank," declared Inza, hurrying to meet him and giving him both her hands. "We had almost decided that something serious had happened to you."

"Didn't know but this new freak with the snowy hair had gobbled you up," said Bart Hodge.

"Told you he was all right," grunted Bruce Browning, who was lounging on the most comfortable chair in the place.

"You were so weary you didn't want to bother about going to make inquiries for him," said Elsie Bellwood. "Mrs. Medford was on the point of applying to the police."

"According to all the stories I hear," put in Mrs. Medford, "I believe it best for you to get out of this wicked city just as soon as possible, Frank."

Frank laughed.

"If everything goes well," he declared, "we'll be ready to start by day after to-morrow."

"Tell us just where you have been and what you have been doing," urged Inza.

"I've been doing a little character work."

"Character work?"

"Yes. I can't get over my old penchant for acting."

But, although they were very curious, he evaded making a complete explanation then.

A little later he found an opportunity to speak with Bart and Bruce without being overheard by the girls or Mrs. Medford.

"Look here, you two," he said, "I'm going to need you to-night. Don't make any plans about dinner or the theatre. Provide yourselves with pistols, for you may have to use them. Be ready when I want you."

"This is rather interesting," said Hodge. "What's the game, Frank?"

"The game will be to capture a nice little bunch of human tigers."

"Human tigers!" grunted Browning. "That sounds like the real thing, old man. Can't you put us wise a little more?"

"Not now. I'm going to call up my friend Bronson, the detective, and get him into it, for I believe he will be needed. I hope that this night I'll be able to effectually checkmate some very dangerous rascals."

Merry did not use the phone in the suite, but went down to the booths in the hotel lobby. There he called up police headquarters and asked for Bronson.

"He's just come in," was the answer. "Have him to the phone in a moment."

Directly Bronson himself inquired what was wanted.

"This is Merriwell," explained Frank. "Is there anything that will prevent you from giving me your services to-night?"

"Well, nothing that I know of, if the business is important; but I'll have to know what's doing in order to make it right here."

"I don't like to explain over the phone," said Frank. "If you can wait, I'll jump into a cab and come right down to tell you all about it."

"I'll wait," was the assurance.

Merry lost no time in taking a cab for police headquarters, where he found the plain-clothes man waiting for him.

"Bronson," said Merriwell, "I've found Felipe Jalisco."

"Have you? Well, it will give me some satisfaction to again get my hands on that slippery chap."

"But I believe I have found something far more important. You know I told you that I was convinced of foul play in the Watson Scott affair, and also in the seeming accident that happened to Warren Hatch."

"Which seems entirely improbable to me."

"I think I'll be able to convince you to-night that I was not mistaken in either case. Further than that, I hope to place within your grasp the wretch who drugged Scott and bribed Hatch's chauffeur to bring about that accident."

"If you can do that, and if we succeed in securing the villain, it will be a corking piece of work. I think it will prove the sensation of the hour."

"Listen," said Frank, "and I will tell you my plan."



CHAPTER XXIV.

THE FLAMES DO THEIR WORK.

Early that evening old Spooner returned, accompanied by an even more disreputable-looking old man than himself.

Felipe heard them slowly and laboriously fumbling their way up the dark stairs, recognized the sound of Spooner's cane, and flung open the door of his room that the light of his oil lamp might aid them.

"Bless you, boy!" panted old Spooner. "These stairs are dark—heathenishly dark."

"I see to-night you have with you a friend, senor,"' observed the Mexican boy.

"Yes, poor fellow. I have seen him much on the streets. He stays with me frequently. He is deaf and dumb."

"Two beggar cronies," muttered Felipe, in Spanish, as he closed the door after they had vanished shufflingly into old Spooner's room. "Now I know quite well how the old man lives, but it is a poor living he gets."

Once or twice Felipe fancied he detected faint, suspicious sounds in the hall; but when he listened at the door he heard nothing more.

He did not see a number of shadowy figures which came up those unsteady stairs in a marvelously silent manner and vanished into the room occupied by old Spooner.

It was quite late when the listening boy fancied he heard a familiar step on the stairs. In a twinkling he was close to the door. Two persons were coming.

Then sounded a sharp, familiar knock, upon which Felipe flung open the door, crying:

"Welcome, senors! I had begun to fear you would not come to see me this night."

"Oh, we're here, me boy," chuckled Hagan, as he entered, with Alvarez Lazaro at his heels. "It's suspicious our friend Lazaro became on account of a queer thing. He's been shadowed by the police since yesterday. Now you can't guess why he grew suspicious?"

"I cannot," confessed Jalisco, closing and locking the door.

"The coppers stopped watching him," laughed the Irishman. "Although he tried to discover some one chasing him about, not a soul took the trouble. When I met him all ready to come here, he told me the action of the police worried him and made him suspicious."

"Had they continued to watch me," said Lazaro, "I could have given them the slip and laughed; but when I could discover no one watching, I knew not what to do."

"It's all right," nodded Hagan, as he took a seat on the bed. "Devil a soul followed us here."

Lazaro did not sit down, although the boy offered the only chair and urged him to take it.

"No," he said; "I choose to stand. I shall not remain long, but I came to give you news that will cheer your heart. Senor Hagan says he has told you of the sudden illness of Senor Watson Scott and of the accident which happened to Senor Warren Hatch. Thus you see, Felipe, already two of the great men who were going to build Frank Merriwell's railroad in Sonora are flat on their backs, and why both of them are not dead is more than I can understand. Senor Scott must have a constitution like iron, for he drank all the coffee in which I dropped a powder that should have ended his life."

"Then it was you who did it?" cried Felipe.

"Yes; I have begun the work of ruining Merriwell's plans, bringing him to poverty and wretchedness and destroying him at last. Did I tell you once that I was the bosom friend of Porfias del Norte? I am Del Norte himself!

"Del Norte, a youth, died in that cave; but Del Norte, the old man you see before you, rose from it. I am Del Norte, the old man; but to the world I am Alvarez Lazaro, the avenger of Del Norte. I have sworn to destroy Merriwell and make him suffer even as I suffered. I am losing no time. I began with the purpose of blocking Merriwell's railroad scheme. Human life is nothing to me.

"I poisoned Watson Scott. I bribed the chauffeur of Warren Hatch to send him crashing over the bank. Next I will strike Sudbury Bragg. My plan is made. I am ready. The railroad shall not be built. Great accidents shall happen in Merriwell's mine. An evil spell shall fall on it. Men will die or flee from it in terror. All Merriwell attempts shall fail. In the end I will mock him and bring him to a terrible death."

Barely had Lazaro spoken these boastful words when the door fell with a crash, and Frank Merriwell himself, with his friends behind him, stood in the doorway. He had cast aside the wig and a part of his disguise, and the startled trio of rascals recognized him before he spoke.

"Lazaro," he cried, "your tongue has betrayed you, and your vile plotting is done. Even if Scott and Hatch live, you'll get twenty years, at the very least. The house is surrounded by police. There is no escape! Surrender!"

With a furious oath, Del Norte rushed at Frank, drawing a knife. He struck at Merry's heart, but his wrist was seized and the knife was twisted from his grasp.

Hodge and Browning crowded into the small room. A struggle followed, in the midst of which there was a crash and a flare of fire.

The oil lamp had been overturned. Burning oil was flung all over the room, and the flames leaped up eagerly.

In the midst of this excitement Bantry Hagan managed to get out of the room. He saw policemen coming up the stairs, and he ran along the hall, intending to flee up another flight. In the hall he struck against Merriwell, who had Lazaro pinned to the floor.

Frank was knocked aside and his hold on the villain broken.

At the same moment he heard a cry of distress from Browning.

"Great heavens! Hodge is afire! He'll be burned to death!"

Hodge, Frank's dearest friend, was in frightful peril. That cry caused Merry to leave Lazaro, thinking there could be no escape for the man. Browning had torn some of the bedding from the bed, and this he wrapped about Bart, assisted by Frank. Thus the flames were quickly smothered and Hodge was saved.

"That's a bad fire in this coop!" cried one of the police. "The old trap will go."

"Get the people out!" shouted Frank. "Save the people, even though Lazaro escapes!"

"He'll not get out without being nabbed," declared Sam Bronson.

The whole building was in an uproar now. Men were shouting, women shrieking, and children crying. They came swarming down the stairs, falling over one another, pushing, shoving, fighting to get out.

In the room where the fire started, which was now a sea of flames, Frank saw a figure groping with outstretched arms, clothing all ablaze.

Merriwell rushed in there, dragged the fellow out, beat at the fire with his bare hands, stripped off his coat, muffled some of the flames and finally extinguished them, just as he was swept down the stairs in the midst of a human river. In his powerful arms he carried the one he had rescued at the peril of his own life.

Out into the open air Merry was thrust. He clung to the moaning chap he had dragged from the flames.

"Send in an ambulance call!" he cried to a policeman. "This boy has been badly burned."

The eyes of Felipe Jalisco stared at him in wonderment, for all of the agony the lad was suffering.

"Why did you do it—you, my enemy?" he marveled. "Why didn't you leave me there to die? Then I would be out of your way and could give you no further trouble."

"That's not my way of doing business," said Merry, as he carried the Mexican lad to a place of safety and sat holding him in his arms until the ambulance came.

Fire engines shrieked and roared their mad way to the scene of the conflagration. The firemen hastened with their work, but the building was doomed.

When Jalisco had been removed in the ambulance, Merry sought for Bronson, and finally found him.

"Did you get Lazaro?" he asked.

"Couldn't find the fellow," was the regretful answer. "In that mad turmoil it was impossible to do a thing."

"I wonder what has become of him?" said Frank.

"There is your answer!" shouted Bruce Browning, clutching Merry's arm with one hand and pointing with the other to one of the upper windows of the doomed tenement.

A man appeared in that window. Behind him was a glare of fire, and the red light showed the man distinctly. His hair was white as the driven snow.

For a moment it seemed that the man contemplated leaping. Those below shouted for him to wait, and the firemen hastened with a ladder. He was seen to turn and shade his face from the heat with his lifted arm. Then he disappeared from the window.

Barely had this occurred when some of the inner portions of the building fell and the flames poured forth from a score of windows. Within thirty seconds the whole place was a roaring furnace.

"That's the last of Alvarez Lazaro!" said Bart Hodge, who had escaped serious injury and was watching in company with Browning and Merriwell. "His murderous plotting is finished. He'll never trouble you again, Frank."



CHAPTER XXV.

THE PATIENT AND THE VISITOR.

In a private ward of a New York City hospital lay Felipe Jalisco so hidden with bandages that scarcely more than his eyes could be seen. The patient's hands and wrists were likewise hidden by bandages.

The door of the room opened gently, and a white-gowned, white-capped, soft-footed nurse stepped in.

"A visitor to see you," she said, in a low tone.

She was followed at once by Frank Merriwell, who stepped quickly to the side of the cot, a look of deep sympathy and regret in his brown eyes as he gazed down at the patient.

The dark eyes that looked back at him seemed filled with wonderment and surprise.

Stooping over the cot, Merriwell spoke in his gentlest tones.

"How are you, my poor boy?" he said. "They would not let me see you before, saying it was best that you should be quiet and unexcited."

From amid the bandages a soft voice answered:

"They tell me I shall get well, Senor Merriwell, but I shall be horribly scarred during all the rest of the life which I may live. It is good to live, but it is terrible to be hideous."

"I am sorry for you, Felipe," declared Merry, in a tone that told of the utmost sincerity.

For a single moment it seemed that the boy on the cot doubted.

"Why should you for me be sorry?" he asked. "It was I who swore to kill you."

"Because you thought yourself injured and your passionate nature longed for revenge. To you it seemed that I refused to give you justice. You thought me powerful, and arrogant, and selfish, and you were aroused against me until your heart was filled with fire."

"It is true my heart within my bosom burned," admitted the boy. "Since the fire from which you dragged me I have thought much. You knew I hated you, you knew I claimed your mine, you knew I meant to make you trouble, you knew I might kill you—yet you beat out the flames, smothered them, lifted me, carried me from the burning building, saved my life. Why didn't you leave me to die and get me out of your way? I do not understand."

Merry sat down beside the cot.

"I will try to make you understand. I sought to look at the whole matter from your standpoint, and I fancied I knew how you felt about it. To you I was a villain and a wretch. Instead of hating you because you hated me, I longed to justify myself in your eyes. I longed for the opportunity to show you that I was not the scoundrel you thought me."

"To me it seemed you did not care. I thought at me you laughed and sneered."

"You see now that you were wrong, Felipe. It was not you I scorned; it was your companion and adviser, Bantry Hagan, a scheming rascal, every inch of him. Hagan is a fighter, and he does not acknowledge defeat. When the plot of Porfias del Norte failed and Del Norte was buried by the landslide in the Adirondacks, it seemed to Hagan that he had been defeated, and the taste was bitter to him. When chance led you across his path, he saw an opportunity to renew the battle against me, and he used you to do so. Behind you I saw Hagan all the while."

"But you—is it now true that you deny the justice of my claim, Senor Merriwell. It was to defy Senor Hagan that you denied it? Ah! I understand at last."

"I am afraid you do not quite understand," said Merry, shaking his head. "You have in your possession a document that seems to prove your right to a certain tract of land, granted to your great-grandfather by President Victoria in eighteen twenty-four."

"Si, senor."

"It happens, Felipe, my boy, that I have made a close investigation and study of the records in regard to that particular territory. I learned by doing so that President Pedraza did make a grant of such land to Guerrero del Norte in eighteen thirty-two; but that the grant was afterward annulled when Guerrero was proclaimed a bandit by Santa Anna. That disposed of the claim of Porfias del Norte, for had he lived he could not have induced the Mexican government to reaffirm the old grant. But, Felipe, there is no record that President Victoria ever made a concession or grant of such territory to your great-grandfather."

"I have the proof! I have the document!"

"Unrecorded and worthless. Listen, my boy. Since you appeared and made your claim I wired my agents in the City of Mexico, and they have been investigating your right to any Sonora territory. To-day I received from them a message which I have here. When you are better you shall read it."

"It says what?" eagerly asked Felipe.

"It says that Sebastian Jalisco was at no time a colonel in the Mexican army. That after his death certain parties did attempt to get possession of valuable territory in Sonora by producing a forged land grant; but that the rascals were soon forced to take to cover to save their lives, after which nothing more was heard of 'Colonel' Jalisco's claim to Sonora land."

Frank spoke slowly, in order that the boy might understand every word.

Felipe Jalisco lay quite still some moments, his breast heaving.

"If this, then, is the truth," he finally said, in a tone that was scarcely audible, "it is I who am wholly in the wrong. The document is worthless."

"It is worthless, Felipe, I give you my word of honor. I felt sure of it after examining the document the first time. Had I believed it of the slightest value, you would have received different treatment at my hands."

Felipe moved his bandaged hands in a fumbling manner, and in his dark eyes there was a peculiar look of mingled disappointment and satisfaction.

"All the dreams I have had are done," he breathed. "Perhaps it is well. I believe you. There is truth in your eyes. You saved me from death. There is mercy in your heart. Even knew I my claim to be just, I could not strike at one who had saved me from death. Perhaps for me it would have been best to die!"

There was deepest pathos and despair in the final words.

"Oh, no, Felipe!" exclaimed Frank.

"For what shall I live now?"

"For your father and mother."

"I have neither."

"For your friends."

"I have none."

"Then let me be your friend," argued Merry. "I'll try to find something that shall make life worth living for you."

"Enough trouble I have been to you already. You save my life! You send me here! I am not in the free ward; I am where it costs. I ask who pay. They tell me Senor Merriwell pay for everything. Then I think and think a long time. First I think you do it because you know you have wronged me much, and it is your conscience that compels you. Now I know it is not that. Now I know it is your good heart. Still, I do not quite understand. What more for me would you do? The debt I cannot now pay."

"Don't look at it in that light. I need a trusty fellow in Mexico—one who speaks Spanish and the patois of the half-blood laborers. Maybe you will help me. You might become invaluable to me. I will pay you——"

The Mexican lad quickly lifted one of his bandaged hands.

"Pay me!" he exclaimed. "How is it that by working all my life I can pay you? For me do not speak of pay."

"All right," laughed Merry cheerfully. "We'll fix that after you get on your feet again."

Felipe fumbled beneath the pillow, as if searching for something.

"It is here," he murmured.

"What do you want?"

"This."

He drew forth a creased, yellowed, tattered, time-eaten paper.

"It is the land grant to Sebastian Jalisco," he said. "Please for me tear it up now. I have kept it here all the time. Please destroy it, Senor Frank."

Frank took the paper.

Instead of doing as he was urged, after glancing at it, Merry carefully refolded it and placed it in a leather pocketbook.

"I'll not destroy it, Felipe—at least, not now."

"Why not?"

"Some day you may change your mind."

"No, no!"

"Some day you may wish for it again."

"No, no!"

"You can't be sure, my boy. I will take care of this paper, and you may have it on demand at any time. Were I in haste to destroy it, your doubts might creep back upon you and give you regret and pain. I will place it in a private vault with my own valuable papers, where it will remain safe and undestroyed."

"It is trouble too much for a worthless old paper," said Felipe.

His estimation of its value had undergone a most profound change.

"No trouble at all," smiled Merry; "and it is worth preserving as a curiosity, if nothing more. At any time you may have it. By preserving it and holding it ready for you on demand I may save myself from suspicion some future time when somebody shall try to convince you that the document is really valuable."

Frank had settled that point.

"Now, Felipe, my lad," he smiled, "let me warn you to look out for that man Hagan, through whom you came to this trouble. But for Hagan you would not have resorted to certain measures to frighten me, I fancy. You have found him a bad adviser. Had you succeeded in getting money out of me, Hagan would have obtained the lion's share. That was his game."

"Senor Hagan escaped from the fire?" questioned the boy.

"Oh, yes, he got out all right."

"But not Senor Lazaro?"

"I think Senor Lazaro ended his career right there. After the engines came, at a time when the building was wrapped in flames, he appeared at an upper window. The smoke cleared for a moment, and the glare of the fire showed him plainly. He seemed to look straight down at me with hatred in his black eyes. Then he whirled and rushed back from the window, as if seeking some means of escape. A few moments later the old building collapsed and fell. His bones must be buried in the ruins."

"For you, Senor Frank, I am glad," declared the Mexican boy. "He did hate you with terrible hatred, and he would have ruined you. The work of it he had begun."

"Yes, the snake! I heard his boast that he was the reincarnated spirit of Porfias del Norte, whom he would avenge. The man talked like a maniac, for at the last moment he even asserted that he was Del Norte himself."

"For you it is good he did not escape," said Felipe.

"Had he escaped from the fire, the detectives would have nabbed him. The confession we overheard him make was enough to give him a good, long time behind the bars, for he boasted that, in his plot to ruin my plans, he poisoned Watson Scott and bribed Warren Hatch's automobile driver to wreck the machine in hopes of killing Hatch. Sudbury Bragg would have fallen next. That Scott stands a chance of recovering comes wholly through his remarkable stamina and fine physical condition. That Hatch was not killed is a marvel. Alvarez Lazaro was a human fiend, for, in order to injure me, he was willing to murder innocent men—he even attempted to murder two of them."

"Even I of him was afraid," confessed the Mexican boy. "It is not my way to strike the innocent in order to reach the guilty."

"I believe you, Felipe. You did not even wish to strike me if you could frighten me into giving you what you thought to be your just due. I learned that the night you stole into the room where I slept at the home of Warren Hatch and tried to shake my nerve by pressing your knife against my throat."

"But nothing could frighten you," said Felipe. "You told me then I would not kill. I am glad now that I did not. I shall never cease to be glad."

"Not even when Bantry Hagan again finds an opportunity to talk to you? Hagan is slick, and he has a seductive tongue."

"Thanks for the compliment, me boy," said a voice at the door, and a stout, florid man stepped heavily into the room.

"Senor Hagan!" cried Felipe.

"The same, me lad," was the cool answer. "I thought I'd come to see how you were coming on, and this is the first time I could see ye. I find you have a visitor already. It's slick he calls me, but I'll bet me life he's been playing a slick game of his own with ye. Careful, me lad, or he'll have that document in his fingers, and never again will you see it at all."

"He has it now!" exclaimed the Mexican boy defiantly. "I gave it to him."

"Then it's too late I came. A poor fool you are, Felipe!"

The patient became greatly excited and rose to a sitting position, crying:

"Go you away! I want to see you no more! I will not listen to you!"

Hagan surveyed Merriwell.

"How you do it I can't say," he confessed; "but you have the trick of making friends of any who may give you trouble. It's proud I am to say you can't fool Bantry Hagan and turn his backbone to jelly. Del Norte is dead, but Hagan is alive, and he'll keep you on the jump for a while."

Frank stepped past Hagan to the door. Looking out into the long corridor, he called a young doctor who happened to be passing.

"Doctor," he said, "a serious mistake has happened here. Take a look at this man who has forced his way in here. He is no friend of the patient, and you can see for yourself that the patient is greatly excited and wrought up by his intrusion. For the sake of the patient, will you see that this man leaves at once, that he is observed at the door, and that instructions are given to refuse him admittance if he has the cheek to call again."

"Take him away! Take him away!" cried Jalisco.

Immediately the doctor addressed Hagan.

"I think you had better come, sir," he said.

"Oh, I'll go!" grated the Irishman, giving Merry a savage glare. "I'll make no trouble about that. Good day to ye, Mr. Merriwell. Make the best of your success now, but remember that Hagan is no easy mark, and he'll get a rap at you yet."

His face purple with rage, the schemer strode out of the room and soon left the hospital.

Outside the gate he paused, removed his hat, and mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. Although it was nipping cold, he seemed to be burning with the heat of an inward furnace.

"I'll walk a bit to cool off," he said, and set out, his head down, his face grim, his manner absorbed.

As he was crossing a street a cab whirled up beside him and stopped. He swore at the driver for his carelessness, but his profanity ended abruptly when the door of the cab swung open and he saw a pair of midnight eyes looking at him.

"By all the saints," gasped Bantry Hagan, actually staggering, "it is the dead alive again!"

The man in the cab lifted a hand and motioned to him. In a low, musical voice, he said:

"Senor Hagan, get in quickly. Come."

A moment the Irishman paused, seeming to hesitate; then he stepped forward and entered the cab.

The door slammed, the driver whipped up his horses, and the cab rumbled away.



CHAPTER XXVI.

A SURPRISE FOR FIVE THUGS.

Frank left the hospital on foot. He might have taken a car, but he preferred to walk. Always when thinking deeply he chose to walk, and he often became utterly oblivious to his surroundings, even on the crowded streets of a city.

He now set out without regard to direction. His talk with the Mexican boy had set him to thinking of Porfias del Norte and Alvarez Lazaro, between whom there had seemed to be some mysterious connecting link. The nature of that link was something to puzzle over, even though both men were dead.

Many times Frank had thought of the strange declaration of Lazaro that he was the avenger of Del Norte, even that he was Del Norte himself. Such an assertion seemed that of a madman.

Still Lazaro was in appearance Del Norte grown old, his face time-furrowed, his black hair turned snowy white. More than that, for all of Lazaro's aged appearance, he had seemed to possess the vigor and vim of a very young man. His eyes burned with the fire of youth, and they were exactly like the eyes of Del Norte. His voice also was the voice of Del Norte.

Dusk was gathering in the streets of the great American metropolis, the street lights were beginning to gleam, laborers were homeward bound from their toil.

Quite unconscious of the fact, Merry had wandered into a disreputable quarter, and suddenly, without warning, he was set upon by a number of men. One of them struck at him, while another attempted to sandbag him from behind.

The attack in front caused Frank to dodge with a pantherish spring that was most astonishing in its quickness, considering the fact that a moment before he had seemed totally unsuspicious and unprepared. This leap saved him from being stretched unconscious by the sandbag.

An instant later he was engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter with five thugs who had marked him as their prey. A well-dressed young man like Merry was sure to attract attention in such a quarter, and these ruffians had singled him out as a chap worth plucking.

His sudden and astounding change from total unwariness to a fighting youth with every sense on the alert was something for which they were unprepared.

He struck one fellow a terrible blow, which sounded clear as the crack of a pistol and sent the man turning end over end into the street, where he sprawled. He seized another by the left wrist with his own left hand, gave him a forward jerk to one side, at the same time striking him a swift, sharp blow with the outer edge of his open right hand, which landed on the fellow's neck just under the ear and turn of the jaw.

This man dropped like a stricken ox, and lay quivering on the broken curbing of the sidewalk.

Ducking low, one of the men attempted to seize Merry about the waist.

The young American athlete leaped backward, his foot came up, the toe of his boot struck the man under the chin, and over the ruffian went, flat on his back, his lips cut and bleeding, and choking over several teeth he had suddenly lost.

The street light at the corner sent a ray that gleamed on an uplifted knife.

With a squirming movement, Merry escaped the stroke, which cut a slit in his coat sleeve near the shoulder.

Then the man with the knife was seized, whirled round till his back was toward the youth attacked, and flung clean over Merry's head, striking on his head and shoulders on the flagging of the sidewalk.

The fifth thug paused in astounded hesitation. What sort of a chap was this who could dispose of four men with the rapidity of lightning, using only his bare hands? More than that, they had attacked him when he seemed quite unaware and unprepared, yet they had brought upon him not the slightest harm.

Frank's hand went toward his hip pocket.

With a yell, the fifth thug turned and ran for his very life, dodging into a dark alleyway.

From the opposite side of the street a strapping big man came hurrying toward Merry, crying:

"Give it to 'em! That's the stuff!"

Wondering if the fellow was another of the thugs, who might try to get at him, Merry held himself on the alert, ready for anything.

The dim light showed that the big fellow had a beardless, youthful face. He was dressed plainly, but his appearance was not that of a ruffian.

He paused, thrust his hands into his pockets, and surveyed the fallen thugs, who were beginning to bestir themselves.

"Well," he said, with a laugh, "you certainly got away with that bunch in a hurry. I saw them jump on you and made tracks to give you a hand, expecting they would down you before I could get here. Instead of downing you, they went down so fast that they looked as if they were falling before a machine gun. Your style of fighting is much like that of a chap I knew at college. It's the goods."

"Thank you," said Merry. "But I wasn't expecting trouble, and I came near getting mine, all right."

"Eh?" cried the big fellow. "Your voice sounds familiar. It can't be that——"

He stepped nearer, peering into Merry's face.

Suddenly Frank recognized him.

"Hello, Starbright!" he exclaimed, in delight.

"Frank Merriwell!" shouted the big fellow, leaping forward and grasping Merry's hand. "Oh, eternal miracles! Am I dreaming?"

Such a handshaking as it was! Here was Dick Starbright, the big Yale man, who had good cause to remember Frank with emotions of the deepest gratitude and friendliness.

"What in the world are you doing here, Merry?" asked Dick.

"What in the world are you doing here?" was Frank's counter question.

"Why, I'm a newspaper reporter. Been digging up the facts in regard to the Poydras murder. That brought me into this quarter. Now you own up."

Frank explained as briefly as possible.

"Want these fellows?" questioned Starbright. "They're getting in condition to sneak."

Indeed, two of the thugs had "sneaked" already, having improved the opportunity while the attention of Merry and Starbright was wholly absorbed by the surprise of their unexpected meeting. Another fellow was on his feet, and he ran the moment he heard Dick's words. The fourth was on his hands and knees, apparently seeking strength to rise.

"I see no officer near," said Merry. "We might tackle a difficult job if we tried to drag even one of them along until we could find a cop."

"That's right. His pals would be down on us, a dozen of them, at least. I fancy they'll let us alone now if we don't linger here. Let's sift along."

The last of the ruffians to rise to his feet staggered to the nearest wall, against which he leaned, gazing after the two young men who were walking away.

"Talk about choin-loightning!" he muttered. "It ain't in it wid dat cove! He coitinly done der whole gang, an' done dem good. He was sloidin' along in a trance when we went at him, but der way he come outer dat trance was a shock to der bunch. He's got more foight in him dan any ten blokes I ever seen before."

"I'm mighty glad I ran across you, Merry," said Starbright as they walked away. "You are just the fellow to straighten Morgan up and set him on the right track."

"Morgan?" questioned Frank.

"Yes, Dade Morgan. I can't seem to do anything with him, and he's fast getting in a bad way."

"Is he in New York?"

"Oh, yes; and it would be better for him if he was anywhere else."

"What's he doing here?"

"He isn't doing much of anything now, and that's one thing that is the trouble. You know what a proud, high-strung chap he always was. Well, he's up against it, and it has completely upset him."

"How is he up against it?"

"Why, he hit the pike pretty hard when he came here. He had some ready money, and he lived uptown at the Imperial. You know lots of sports and bloods hang out round that hotel. Dade fell in with some of the bunch. He got some tips on the races and made a few thousand dollars. It was the worst thing that could have happened to him. Next he took a flyer in stocks, trading on margins. He made some more money. I tell you, he was flying high just about then. He thought he had the world by the scruff of the neck. You should have heard him when he ladled out the talk to me. Told me what a howling chump I was to plug away on a newspaper on space. Offered to steer me right to coin money the way he was doing. I tell you, Merry, it was tempting. There he was rolling in boodle and living on the fat of the land, while I had a three-fifty hall bedroom and was eating round at cheap restaurants. Some weeks I made as much as twenty-five, and then I was rich; but perhaps the very next week it would be seven or eight, and before long I was poor again. Reporting on space is a mighty hard mill to go through; but a man learns something at it."

"Go on about Morgan," urged Frank.

"There isn't a great deal to tell. The cards turned on him. He struck the toboggan and he went down with an awful thump. All he had made was wiped out at a single swipe. He followed it up, and in less than a week he was dead broke. Had to give up his rooms at the Imperial. Came down to a cheap hotel, and he's there now. He plays the bucket shops with every dollar he can get, hoping the tide will turn. I don't think he eats enough to keep a sparrow alive. The only thing that keeps him from drinking is that he spends all the money he can get gambling."

"How does he get money?"

"Why, he—he—he gets it somehow—I don't know—just—exactly—how."

Frank felt that he could forgive the big fellow the fib. He knew well enough that Dade Morgan was getting his money from Richard Starbright, who, in order to earn anything, was working like a dog on a newspaper. The fact that he was helping Morgan along Starbright wished to conceal.

Instantly Merry knew the situation was one to be investigated. Starbright had told him enough for him to realize that Morgan was on the road to ruin and very near the brink.

In the old days at Yale, Dade had been for a time Frank's bitterest enemy, having been taught from early boyhood by his uncle and guardian to loathe the very name of Merriwell; but in the end Merry's manliness, bravery, generosity, and nobility had conquered Morgan's hatred and had finally made the fellow Frank's friend.

Starbright was right in saying Dade Morgan was proud and high-strung. He was not the fellow to long endure poverty and humiliation without doing something desperate.

"Take me to him right away, Dick," urged Merry.

Suddenly Starbright seemed to hesitate.

"I don't know as Dade will ever forgive me for showing him up in his poverty," he said. "He hasn't let any of his friends at home know of his reverses. Keeps writing to them in the most cheerful manner, and I'll bet they think he has New York at his feet."

"I'll make it all right with him," assured Merry. "Don't worry about that, Dick. Let's get to him without the loss of a moment."

They had now reached Third Avenue, and they boarded a car southward bound, which at that hour was comparatively empty, while the cars bound in the opposite direction were packed.

While they were on the car Merry told Starbright something of his great plan to build a railroad in Sonora that should tap his mining property, and of his battle with Porfias del Norte and Alvarez Lazaro.

"Whew!" exclaimed Dick. "But you have been engaged in strenuous affairs."

"Rather," nodded Merry. "But the sky is pretty clear now, and I feel like taking a little relaxation. I have a plan that I will unfold after we find Morgan. Inza Burrage, Elsie Bellwood, Bart Hodge, Bruce Browning, and Harry Rattleton are in town, and they——"

"Great Scott!" palpitated the young reporter. "This is great! I'll have to see them all if it takes me away from the paper long enough to get me fired. Here we are. We get off here."

They had reached the Bowery.

Leaving the car, Starbright led the way to one of the cheapest downtown hotels, over the door of which was a sign which stated that rooms could be secured there for fifty cents a night, beds for fifteen and twenty-five cents.

They mounted a flight of dirty stairs and came into the office, where a number of poverty-stricken men were sitting about, reading papers, smoking, and talking. Some of the men looked like hobos, and all wore on their faces the stamp of blighted lives. A single glance made it plain that drink had caused the downfall of nearly all of them.

Merriwell shrugged his shoulders as his eyes ran swiftly over the hotel office and the loungers gathered therein.

"Dade Morgan stopping here!" he mentally exclaimed. "The immaculate, almost aesthetic, Dade in such a wretched place! It seems impossible."

There was no clerk behind the desk.

"Come on," said Starbright. "I know how to find Morgan's room. This way."

They turned from the office and mounted another flight of stairs, darker and dirtier than the first. There was no carpet on the bare floor of the corridor above, where a weakly flaring gas jet made a sickly break in the gloom. There was a peculiar smell about the place that was distinctly offensive. The door of a room stood open. Inside two filthy-looking men, minus their coats, were arguing loudly and drunkenly about "labor and capital," while a third man lay sleeping on a dirty bed.

A man shuffled along the dark corridor and stared at Frank and Dick with suspicious, resentful eyes. He was low-browed, sullen, and vicious in appearance; just such a man as one would not care to meet alone on a dark street late at night.

From another room came the sound of maudlin singing, and in still another a man was swearing horribly.

Merry grasped Dick's arm.

"Haven't you made a mistake?" he asked.

"A mistake? Why——"

"Dade Morgan can't be stopping in a place like this."

"I know it doesn't seem possible," said Dick. "But he is here—at least, he was last night."

They came to a door, which Dick unhesitatingly pushed open.

A sickly gas jet was burning within the room. Stretched across a wretched bed lay a dark, silent figure.



CHAPTER XXVII.

A DUEL OF EYES.

Starbright leaped forward and bent over the form on the bed, clutching at it.

"Dade!" he called, his voice full of alarm.

The figure stirred, and the big, yellow-haired youth drew a breath of relief.

"What's the matter?" asked a dull, mechanical voice. "Oh, is it you, Starbright, old man? Gods! I'm glad you came! Been getting some bad fancies into my head. If I'd had money enough to buy a pistol, or even a little poison——"

"What in the world are you talking about, Dade? Have you gone daffy?"

"No; but what's the use? This is the limit, and—— Who's that?"

Morgan saw Frank for the first time.

"I think you know me, Dade," said Merry, advancing.

The young man on the bed leaped up.

"Merriwell!" he gasped.

"Yes," said Starbright. "I ran across him by accident and brought him here to see you."

Morgan lifted his clinched hand and placed his arm across his eyes for a moment, the attitude being one of intense humiliation and shame.

"What made you bring him?" he muttered huskily. "I—I didn't want any one but you to—to know anything about——"

Frank grasped the hand of the humiliated youth.

"You know I'm your friend, Morgan," he said earnestly. "I urged Dick to bring me along. What if you have been up against hard luck? Every fellow is pretty certain to face it sooner or later."

"But I—I——"

Morgan choked and was unable to go on. It was a terrible ordeal for him.

Merry understood, and the few words he uttered were deeply sympathetic and earnest. Then, in a moment, his manner changed. He seized Morgan by both shoulders, gave him a shake, and laughed in a manner that was both encouraging and soothing.

"Why, it's a good thing for a fellow to get a taste of genuine hard luck. It softens him, mellows him, and makes him more sympathetic for other unfortunates—that is, if he's made of the right stuff. Let a chap slip through the world without ever encountering misfortune and he cannot sympathize with those who have to struggle hard to keep their heads above the surface. Besides that, it stiffens and braces the right sort of a fellow to overcome misfortune and rise in the world through his own efforts. I know, Morgan, for I've seen my share of bad luck."

The flickering gaslight revealed the fact that a bit of color came into Morgan's cheeks.

"I—I suppose that's right," he confessed. "But I never dreamed I'd come to—this! It was the suddenness of the fall that took the sand out of me, too. I ought to be ashamed—I am ashamed—for I actually thought of suicide! You see, Merry, no one but Dick here knew I had gone to the bottom like this. I've been writing home, telling all about my good fortune and success. The thought of any one ever finding out what a wretched failure I had made was more than I could endure. I tell you, Merriwell, this town is a bad place for a fellow who happens to fall in with the swift set. It was a fast bunch I dropped into, and I—well, I made a confounded fool of myself. Result, I blew all my money, acquired a taste for champagne, went broke, and I've been drinking beer and whisky since to keep my courage up. Might as well make a clean breast of it. Dick's been staking me lately, and I've been trying to hit it lucky with the ponies in order to get a start. To-day I decided that luck had set in to run against me for fair, and I felt like ending it by cashing in my chips for good."

Morgan seemed to feel a little better after making this confession.

"Glad I had a streak of luck that brought me along at this point," smiled Frank. "You're going to get such foolish thoughts out of your head right away. What you need is a change of air and scene. I can make use of you."

"You can?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Let's sit down a moment. I'll tell you about it."

There was one broken chair in the room. This Morgan hastily placed for Merriwell, after which he and Starbright sat on the bed.

Frank made plain the events which had brought him to New York in connection with the Central Sonora railroad scheme.

"Now that the business is practically settled, I have a little scheme that I propose to carry out," he said. "I am going to organize an athletic team, made up of my friends and comrades and make a tour."

"Great!" cried Starbright.

"It's a splendid scheme," nodded Morgan. "Can you get the fellows together?"

"I think so. Hodge, Browning, and Rattleton are right here in New York. Jack Ready and Joe Gamp are in Chicago. That makes six. With you and Starbright I shall have eight, and——"

"Not me!" cried Morgan.

"Yes, you."

"Impossible! I'm out of condition. Besides that, I'm broke, and I couldn't——"

"Don't worry about the money question, Dade. You know I have made several athletic and sporting tours, and never yet has it cost me, or any man connected with me, a dollar of our own money. I count on taking enough gate money to pay all expenses and more. I don't think there is a possibility of failure in this respect. I want you, Morgan, and you must agree to become one of my new athletic team."

"But my condition——"

"We'll see about that. We'll see what you can do in the way of getting into condition. You used to be hard as iron and supple as a willow. I think I can take hold of you, and put you into fairly good condition in a short time. As for Starbright, if I'm not mistaken, he is in the very pink of condition."

"I am," agreed Dick; "but I—I'd have to give up my work, and——"

"You told me all about your poor success thus far. You've been drilling at it through the summer months, and it's time to have a change. I don't believe you'll lose anything. In fact, I happen to have some influence with one or two Western papers, and I'll see that you get a chance to show what you can do out there any time you wish to go back to the work. Unless you think it will be a positive injury to you to let up here, I'll not take no as an answer."

"I'm with you!" exclaimed Dick suddenly. "You may count on me."

"Then it is all settled, for——"

"Not yet—at least, not as far as I'm concerned," interrupted Morgan. "I wouldn't be worth a rap to you, Merry. I must confess that I have acquired some bad habits in recent years, and I—well, I'm afraid I haven't enough backbone to make one of your crowd, even if I could get into shape for it, which is doubtful."

"Let me be the judge in regard to that last point," smiled Frank. "You're going to come with me, Morgan. There is talk about an all-American football team playing the best college teams of the country. I'd enjoy pitting my boys against this all-American team, even if we were defeated. Don't say another word, Morgan. Let's get out of here. I want you to buy some clothes and——"

"I have the pawn tickets for my own clothes," said Dade, in a low tone.

"Good! We'll have your wardrobe out of hock in a hurry. We'll have you looking like yourself in short order. Day after to-morrow we'll start for Chicago, stopping off a day at Niagara, as Inza Burrage and Elsie Bellwood will accompany us as far as St. Louis, and both wish to visit the falls. Fellows, it will be great sport! Makes me feel sort of bubbly and flushed all over."

"You've mentioned only eight fellows in all," reminded Dick Starbright. "Eight will not make a football team."

"That's all right," assured Frank. "Received a message from Buck Badger this morning. He'll join us at St. Louis, and he thinks Berlin Carson will be with him. If Carson is with Badger when we get there, we'll have ten men. I expect to hear from two or three more of the old gang at any time. Don't you worry, for I'll have eleven men and three or four substitutes. Leave it to me, fellows—leave it to me."

"I'm perfectly willing to do that," nodded Starbright, beaming in anticipation of the pleasures to come.

"So am I," said Morgan, who had cast off his despondency and now seemed much like his old self. "But I wish one of you would stick me with a pin or something. I want to make sure I'm not dreaming. It's too good to be true."

"It's true, Dade," laughed Merry. "The troubles I've been through in the last few weeks have been enough to make me feel the need of a little relaxation. Why, it will be old times over again!"

Dade suddenly stared upward over Frank's head at the transom above the door. His manner caused Merry to glance up quickly.

The transom was open, leaving an aperture of about three inches.

Through this aperture could be dimly seen the upper part of a face, with a pair of coal-black eyes, which were fixed with an ominous and steady stare upon Merry.

In those midnight eyes there was a gleam of unspeakable hatred, savage malevolence, and deadly rancor. They were the eyes of one who longed to do murder.

The awful look in those terrible eyes seemed to freeze both Morgan and Starbright and turn them to stone. For some moments they remained motionless and breathless.

As for Frank, he met that look squarely, and between him and the eavesdropper at the transom a silent battle took place.

Dade and Dick suddenly knew this battle was occurring. They felt the strain and intensity of it, and they seemed to realize that the master mind would conquer. Neither of them moved, fearing to break the spell. Both felt that they could not move if they so desired.

For at least a full minute the duel of eyes continued. The mysterious man outside seemed putting all his strength of soul and will into the struggle.

Was it a flickering flare of the gas jet, or did the midnight eyes waver the least bit?

Without moving his head or his body, Dade Morgan turned his glance toward Merriwell. What he saw in Frank's face gave him a feeling of relief and unspeakable satisfaction.

Merriwell wore the look of a conqueror. He was the same undaunted, undismayed Merry as of old. He was master of this mysterious foe beyond the closed door.

Again Morgan lifted his eyes to the midnight orbs beyond the transom. A sensation of triumph thrilled him like an electric shock.

The deadly eyes wavered!

The silent duel was ended!

Something like a muttered curse and a choking cry of rage came from the lips of the man beyond the door.

Then the deadly eyes suddenly vanished.

There was a thud, as if some one had leaped down from a chair on which he had stood.

At the same instant Merriwell sprang up and attempted to open the door.

It was locked.

On entering the room Morgan had left the key in the lock, and this key had been softly turned by the mysterious eavesdropper.

There was the sound of fleeing feet in the corridor and a soft laugh, which trailed away and grew fainter in the distance.

Frank Merriwell stepped back from the door and flung his shoulder against it with fearful force.

With a splintering crash, the door gave way before the shock, and Merry staggered into the corridor. He was followed by Starbright and Morgan.

Recovering his equilibrium, Frank straightened up and whirled to follow and overtake the mysterious unknown if possible.

The man of the midnight eyes had disappeared.

The smashing of the door had startled and aroused others in adjacent rooms, and they now came swarming into the corridor. One of them clutched at Frank, but was flung aside; others dodged back to let him pass.

Merry ran to the head of the stairs, down which he leaped.

A man was coming up the second flight.

"Anybody run past you just now?" asked Frank.

"Naw. Wot's der matter?"

Merriwell did not pause to answer the question, but whirled into the office.

He was met at the door by a man in shirt sleeves, who grabbed at him and demanded to know what was "doing."

One glance about the place was sufficient to convince Frank that the eavesdropper had not fled in there.

Starbright appeared, followed by Morgan. The latter was known to the man who had grabbed Frank, and his hasty explanation was sufficient, although the "clerk" declared that some one must settle for the smashed door.

"I'll do that," said Merry promptly. "The spy has escaped. Come back with us, take a look at the door, and estimate the damage."

Merry had no trouble in settling to the satisfaction of every one, but he could not repress his regret over the escape of the man who had been peering through the transom.

Morgan had paid in advance for his room at the hotel, and therefore he was at liberty to leave any time he wished. Merry and Starbright lost no time in getting him out of the place.

Dick drew a breath of relief when they reached the open air.

"That place will serve for the class of men who patronize it," he observed; "but I'm glad Morgan has left it for good."

"So am I!" exclaimed Dade. "The only thing I regret is that the fellow who peered through the transom made his escape. Who could it have been? Have you an idea, Merry?"

"Never yet have I seen but two men with such eyes," declared Merriwell. "One man is dead. The other man, Alvarez Lazaro, claims to be Del Norte's avenger. I thought him dead, but it must be that he escaped from the burning building on the East Side. How he escaped I cannot tell; but, as it was not Del Norte who peered through the transom, it must have been Lazaro."

"Look out for him, Frank," urged Starbright. "I saw murder in those eyes."

"I'll have the police raking the city for him without delay," said Merry. "Let's go directly to police headquarters."

This they did, and Merriwell told his story. As it was known that Lazaro had tried to poison Watson Scott and had bribed the driver of Warren Hatch's automobile to wreck the machine with Mr. Hatch in it, Merriwell's story was listened to with the greatest interest, and he was given the assurance that, in case Lazaro still lived, no stone would be left unturned in the effort to capture him.

From police headquarters the three friends of college days visited several pawn shops, where Morgan recovered his clothing and trinkets.

Two large suit cases were purchased and the recovered articles packed into them.

Merry called a cab, and they proceeded uptown. A room was engaged at the Hoffman House, and Morgan reveled in the luxury of a bath and a shave. In due time he appeared clothed in a respectable manner, and looking wonderfully changed. There was color in his cheeks, life in his eyes, and springiness in his step.

"Now," said Frank, "we'll away to Hotel Astor. Starbright has sent in some copy by messenger to his paper, at the same time giving notice that he has quit, and so things are pretty well arranged to my satisfaction."

A few minutes later they were again in a cab, northward bound.

"I'll leave Lazaro to the police," said Merry. "Now that they know the man is not dead, having proof that he tried to murder Scott and Hatch, they'll either capture him or make New York too hot to hold him. I'll take care that Felipe Jalisco has every attention. But I don't propose to let anything upset my plan of an athletic tour."

Upper Broadway was blazing with light. Morgan laughed with satisfaction as they were carried along the street; but he grew sober suddenly as his eyes fell on the Imperial Hotel.

"I made the mistake of my life there," he said; "but I think it taught me a lesson I'll not soon forget."

They reached Long Acre Square and stopped in front of Hotel Astor.

"Here we are, boys!" said Merry, as he sprang out and paid the driver.

"Yes, and you've been gong enough letting here—I mean long enough getting here," said a voice, as Harry Rattleton hurried forward. "Browning is nearly starved. He's entertaining the girls. Hodge and I have been watching for you the last hour, and we—— Great Halifax! is this Stick Darbright and Made Dorgan—er, I mean Darb Stickbright and Morg Dadean—er, er, no, I mean—I dunno what I mean! It's um! Oh, thunder! what a jolly surprise! This is great—great!"

Rattleton had Starbright with one hand and Morgan with the other, and he astonished and amused people in the vicinity by dancing wildly and whirling them round as he wrung their hands.

"Look out, Rattles," laughed Frank. "If you're seen going through such gyrations by a policeman he'll surely pinch you."

Bart Hodge advanced and tore Starbright from Rattleton, which gave Morgan an opportunity to break away, and he did so laughingly.

"The same old Rattleton," he said. "Harry, you haven't changed a bit."

"Yes, I have," contradicted the curly-haired chap. "I'm more mignified and danly—I mean more dignified and manly. See how sedate I am. Oh, ginger! isn't this a jolly surprise! I believe even Browning will now forgive Frank for being late to dinner."

Hodge shook hands with both Dick and Dade, and they all followed Frank into the hotel.

A bellboy saw Merry and hastened to notify him that he was wanted at the desk.

"Here is something for you, Mr. Merriwell," said one of the assistant clerks. "It was just left here by a messenger boy, who stated that it was very important and must be given to you personally."

He handed Frank an envelope on which his name was written.

Merry tore it open and drew forth a single sheet of paper, on which was written the following ominous words:

"You fancied Porfias del Norte perished in the Adirondacks and that Alvarez Lazaro was destroyed by fire. Neither Del Norte nor Lazaro is dead. Both live in one, and that One pens these lines. I am Del Norte and I am Lazaro. I am likewise the avenger of both. My one object in life is to make you suffer as Del Norte suffered before he escaped from his living tomb, coming forth an old man with snow-white hair. It is my object to make you face the torture of fire here on earth, even as Lazaro faced it. I know you have again set the police on my trail, but I laugh at them and defy them all, even as I laugh at and defy you. I want you to feel the fear of torture and death; I want you to know it is coming and that you cannot escape, and, therefore, I write this. Be constantly on your guard, but know that all your precautions cannot save you. You are doomed!

"THE AVENGER."

"What is it, Merry?" asked Hodge, seeing Frank frowning over it.

"Nothing but ridiculous nonsense," was Merriwell's smiling answer, as he thrust the paper into his pocket. "Let's get the ladies and have dinner."



CHAPTER XXVIII.

AT NIAGARA FALLS.

The trolley car from Buffalo, bearing Frank Merriwell and his friends, was approaching Niagara Falls. The entire party was bubbling with that enthusiasm and eagerness felt by all "sightseers" who find themselves drawing near to this great natural marvel of America. Eagerly they peered from the car windows in their desire to obtain the first glimpse of the falls.

"I can see some mising rist—that is, some rising mist," spluttered Harry Rattleton.

"Get off my pet corn!" growled Bruce Browning, jerking Harry back into his seat, from which he had partly risen. "If you step on that corn again you'll see stars!"

"It just takes an awful long time to get there," said Elsie Bellwood.

"Awful long," agreed Inza.

"I don't think you'll see anything of the falls until we leave this car," said Merry.

"Girls, do be dignified," urged Mrs. Medford, who was chaperoning them. "You are making the passengers smile at you. I greatly dislike having any one smile at me."

"You can supply all the dignity for the party, Aunt Lucy," said Inza. "We're not going to try to be dignified to-day. We're just going in for the best time we can have, and let people smile all they wish."

"That's proper," laughed Dick Starbright, giving Inza an admiring glance. "Two much dignity robs the world of half its fun."

Hodge and Morgan were the silent ones, but there was a light of eagerness in their eyes, and Dade's thin cheeks were flushed.

The car entered the streets of Niagara, swung round a curve, slipped into a huge, covered building and stopped.

"All out," called the conductor.

"Here we are!" said Merry.

"What'll we do now? What'll we do now?" eagerly asked Inza, grasping his arm.

"The very best thing to do is to take a Belt Line observation car, which will carry us over to the Canadian side and round the gorge, giving us a chance to stop off wherever we like."

"This way to the Belt Line cars," called a man who had overheard Merry's words.

They passed from the building to the street beyond, where the car they wanted was waiting. Tickets were purchased without delay, and soon the car was moving.

"But where are the falls?" palpitated Elsie. "I don't see the falls anywhere."

"You will in a few moments," assured Hodge.

"But I want to right off. I can't wait! I've waited too long now!"

However, she was compelled to restrain her impatience until the car descended a steep grade and bore them out on the great steel arch bridge, when suddenly upon their view burst a spectacle that caused them to gasp and utter exclamations of delight.

"Oh, look, look!"

"At last!"

"There they are!"

"Isn't it perfectly grand!"

Then they became silent, stricken dumb with the unspeakable admiration they felt.

Above them and quite near at hand were the American Falls, with the sun shining on them and a cloud of pure white mist rising in an ever-shifting veil from the gorge into which plunged and roared the mighty volume of water. Then came Goat Island, with Horseshoe Falls beyond, shooting forth great boiling fountains of white spray and sending heavenward billow after billow of mist. Beneath them rushed the broad river, writhing and twisting, as if still suffering agonies after its frightful plunge over those dizzy heights to be rent and torn to tatters on the rocks below.

Inza's gloved hand crept into Frank's, and he felt it quiver a little in his grasp.

With a single exception, every one on the car seemed to regard the falls with interest. Even the motorman and conductor took a look at them.

The exception was an old man, who wore a long cloak and carried a crooked cane. His hands rested on the handle of his cane, and his gray head was bowed on his hands. He did not once look up or turn his face toward the falls while passing over the bridge. To Frank this seemed remarkable, but Merry decided that he must be some one who was familiar with the spectacle and to whom the sight no longer appealed.

Having crossed the bridge, the car turned upward toward the falls, and at the point where the wonderful horseshoe began they got off.

Approaching the iron railing, they leaned on it and gazed in continued and increasing wonderment. They were now where they could hear something of the continuous thunder of the falls, and at intervals a little of the spray fell in misty rain upon them.

"Oh, see!" breathed Inza, grasping Frank's arm. "Look at the beautiful rainbow."

In the mist of the American Falls a gorgeous rainbow could be seen.

"I see it," said Frank; but at that moment his eyes were following the strange old man in the black cloak, who had left the car with them and was walking toward the very brink of Horseshoe Falls, leaning heavily on his crooked cane and seeming quite feeble.

"I was wrong about him," thought Merry. "He is interested in the falls—he is fascinated by them."

The old man pressed forward until he was within the very edge of the cloud of mist that rose from the depths below. He seemed totally unconscious of the presence of others in the vicinity. At that point there was no iron railing, and he leaned forward, planting his cane on the wet stones beneath his feet, and peered downward, apparently watching the little steamer, Maid of the Mist, which now came swinging out of the spray at the foot of the American Falls and headed toward the Canadian side.

"If he should slip there," thought Frank, "it would be all over with him in a moment. I wonder that he ventures so near."

A sudden feeling of anxiety for the old man possessed him, and he suggested to Inza that they should move up toward the brink of the falls.

Leaving the others so absorbed in watching the tiny steamer far below that the move of Merry and Inza was not observed they approached the point where the old man stood.

"What is he doing?" questioned Inza, in surprise. "It must be very dangerous there. Call to him, Frank; tell him to come away."

But Merriwell feared to startle the old man, and therefore he did not call.

Above them the rapids came sweeping down toward the falls, the water rushing with such volume and force that it created a feeling of dread, for it was plain that anything once fairly caught in its clutch must be carried, in spite of all human endeavor and strength, over the brink to destruction.

"Remain here, Inza," advised Frank, being compelled to raise his voice in order to make himself understood above the roar of the water. "I'm going to step down there a little nearer. He may slip."

Reluctantly she permitted him to leave her. He did not know that she followed him to the very edge of the rushing water a short distance above the falls. Cautiously he approached the silent figure of the old man, but just as he was on the point of stretching out a hand to grasp the man's arm the latter turned, keeping his back toward Merry, and moved along the edge of the rushing rapids.

Merry refrained from touching the stranger, but followed him as the man approached Inza.

Apparently the old man did not see the girl until he was right upon her.

Then he slightly lifted his head, gave her a glance, and stepped to one side, as if to pass.

This brought her between him and the rapids.

As he was passing his foot slipped on one of the wet rocks, he flung up his hand with the cane, and the staff swept through the air in a half circle directly at Inza's head!

Struck such a blow with the cane, Inza Burrage would be sent headlong into the seething water, which would carry her over the falls in a twinkling!

Fortunately Inza had been watching the old man with anxious eyes. Fortunately, likewise, she was no common girl. Many a time she had demonstrated the fact that she was wonderfully quick-witted and resourceful.

Frank was a bit too far away to clutch the old man's arm and check the sweep of his heavy cane.

Inza's fate lay wholly with herself. She saw the cane coming directly at her head, and, like a flash, she "ducked."

Over her head swept the cane, brushing the plumes on her hat.

For an instant she tottered, seeming to sway toward the rapids in the effort to regain her equilibrium.

In that instant Frank Merriwell's strong right arm had sent the stranger, with one great surge, reeling to his knees some feet from the water's edge, and then his left arm encircled Inza's waist and drew her from the perilous spot.

She was white as the mist that rose in a great cloud close at hand.

"Inza!" cried Merry chokingly. "Thank Heaven you had presence of mind and dodged!"

"Oh, Frank!" she murmured; "I nearly fell into the water after that!"

He gave her all his attention.

"That old man must be crazy!" he said. "No one at his age that is not crazy or foolish would prowl about at the very edge of the river here, where a misstep means almost certain death. He should be locked up!"

Then he turned to look for the stranger, but saw the bent form at a distance. Without having paused to utter a word of explanation, apology, or regret, the man was hastening away.

"Further proof that he's daffy," muttered Frank.

He longed to hasten after the stranger, but felt Inza clinging to him in weakness, which prevented such a move.

And now their friends, having discovered for the first time that something was wrong, came hurrying to the spot, asking many questions.

It was some time before Inza recovered, but in the end she flung off her weakness with a sudden show of resolution, forced a laugh, and declared that she was all right.

"Where is the chundering old bump—I mean the blundering old chump?" spluttered Harry Rattleton. "Didn't stop to say a word? Well, somebody ought to say something to him! I'd like the privilege. It would do me good to give him an unvarnished piece of my mind."

The old man, however, had disappeared. Morgan said he had taken a carriage after hastening from the immediate vicinity of the falls.

"I'm glad he's gone," declared Inza. "I'm sure he was frightened. Perhaps he didn't know what to say under the circumstances."

"I'm afraid this terrible adventure will spoil your enjoyment here, Inza," said Mrs. Medford.

"Not at all," was the answer. "It's all over now, and we'll forget it. What shall we do next?"

It was agreed that the proper thing was to resume their trolley ride around the gorge, and so they took the next car bound down the river.

This ride was one that none of them could ever forget. The tracks ran close to the brink of the great gorge, so close at times that they could look directly downward from the side of the car into treetops far beneath them and see the fearful rush of the river through its choked channel. It was a spectacle almost as impressive as that of the falls, and in some ways, as the car skimmed along the brink of these mighty precipices, it was even more "shuddery," as Elsie expressed it.

But the part that affected them the most was the return journey through the gorge, after they had recrossed the river five miles below the falls.

The car descended until it was running at the very edge of the river that rushed through the channel between the two great bluffs. As the whirlpool was approached the rush and swish of the water became fiercer and more terrible. It was fascinating yet fearful to look upon, and Elsie Bellwood shuddered and drew back, more than once averting her eyes.

The whirlpool itself was a wonderful sight, but the rapids above it proved the most awesome of aspect. There the water hissed and seethed with a blood-chilling sound as it raced, and foamed, and whirled along its course. The suggestion of terrible power possessed by this mad river was simply appalling. The sound of the hissing water put one's nerves on edge. In places the river boiled, and surged, and raged over hidden rocks, leaping upward in mighty waves of white foam. There were thousands of eddies and whirlpools, all suggestive of destruction.

The girls were genuinely relieved when the car began the ascent that would take them out of the gorge.

"It was great," said Inza, as they finally reached the level above. "I enjoyed every moment of it, but it made me feel so dreadfully mean and insignificant. I'm glad we took the ride, but I don't think I'd care to take it again to-morrow. Where shall we go now, Frank?"

"We'll stroll over onto Goat Island," said Merry.

They left the car when it finally reached the place from which they had started on the American side.

Barely had they started toward the island when a carriage stopped beside them and the driver importuned them to let him take them round.

"You couldn't take all of us in that carriage," said Merry.

"I'll call another in a moment," said the driver, and started to do so.

"Hold on," said Merriwell. "We prefer to walk."

"Not I," said Browning. "How much is it?"

"Twenty-five cents each," was the answer. "I'll take you round and show you all the points of interest."

"Cheap enough," said Bruce, and he promptly climbed in.

In vain the driver urged others to get in. He was even somewhat insolent in his insistence. Finally he drove off with Bruce lazily waving his hand from the rear seat of the carriage.

Frank laughed softly.

"Browning will get enough of that," he declared. "Those fellows urge you to get in for a twenty-five-cent ride, promising to show you numerous points of interest; but almost before they get you over to the island they begin suggesting a longer drive that will cost you a dollar, two dollars, or even three dollars. They keep harping on it until they destroy all the pleasure and enjoyment of the twenty-five-cent ride, and if they find they cannot inveigle you into taking a longer ride they become absolutely insulting and offensive. That fellow will be sore when he learns that Bruce has been over to the Canadian side and round the gorge."

There was plenty of time, and the party enjoyed the walk over the bridge to Goat Island. Midway on the bridge they paused to watch the rush of the rapids, where the water came bulging over a distant ridge, and swept toward them with a hissing, roaring sound that was quite indescribable.

Having reached the island, they proceeded to cross the little bridge to Luna Island, from which a near view of the American Falls was obtained. Here again they saw a portion of the beautiful rainbow in the rising mist.

From Luna Island they retraced their steps, and then sauntered along the iron-railed lower edge of Goat Island. They were strongly tempted to visit the Cave of the Winds under the falls, but Merry knew the waterproof clothing furnished would not be sufficient to keep them from becoming uncomfortably damp, and this, together with the fact that the afternoon was rapidly turning cold, caused them to decide to refrain from descending the wonderfully long stairway and crossing the spray-dripping bridge to the cave.

From the outer extremity of Goat Island they obtained another fine view of the Horseshoe Falls.

Deciding to visit the upper end of the island for the purpose of viewing the wonderful rapids above the falls, they had not proceeded far before they came upon Browning, who was sitting on a bench and looking very sour and disgusted.

"Why, hello, Bruce!" called Frank. "All through with your drive? That's odd."

The giant made a rumbling sound in his throat.

"Don't talk to me about that!" he exploded. "Why, that chap just bored me to death trying to induce me to let him drive me over to the Canadian side and around to other places. Couldn't choke him off. Told him I'd been across. He kept it up. Asked me if I'd seen this, and that, and the other. I said yes, yes, yes! Then I invited him to shut up. First thing I knew he was taking me back off the island. He had closed up like a clam. Asked him where all the places were that he was going to show me, and he informed me I had seen twenty-five cents' worth. Then I was ruffled. I admit I was ruffled. I stood up, took him by the collar, and agitated him a little. The agitation shook some of the dust out of his clothes. Then I got out and permitted him to proceed. I've been sitting here meditating, and if you don't walk too fast I think I'll stick by you until you get through seeing things."

The manner in which Browning related this was decidedly amusing, and all laughed over it.

They followed the walk, and proceeded on their way toward the upper end of the island. Near the upper end they approached three small islands, known as the Three Sisters. A massive anchored bridge permitted them to cross to the first of these islands. Beneath this bridge the water swept with a continuous rushing roar, and the sight of it gave Elsie a renewed feeling of nervousness, which was increased by the fact that the great bridge swayed and moved beneath their feet.

Having crossed by other bridges to the outermost of the Three Sisters, they now obtained a near and awe-inspiring view of the great rapids above the Canadian Falls.

At a distance up the river the water seemed pouring over a great semi-circular ridge. It swept down on the Three Sisters as if seeking to overwhelm them. It tore past on either side with the velocity of an express train, hissing and snarling in anger because the islands dared defy and withstand its furious assault.

Elsie stood with clasped hands, her eyes dilated, as she stared at the rapids which stretched far, far away to the Canadian side.

"Isn't it grand!" cried Inza in Elsie's ear, her face flushed and her dark eyes shining.

"It's grand," admitted the golden-haired girl; "but it's terrible, and it frightens me."

The little party had divided, seeking various vantage points from which views of the great rapids could be obtained.

Frank and Bart lingered with the girls.

Mrs. Medford had remained on Goat Island, declining to cross the first bridge, and asserting that she preferred to rest on one of the benches. She refused to permit any one to remain with her, urging and commanding them all to see everything worth seeing.

"A human being would have absolutely no chance if ever caught in the edge of that current," said Hodge. "The instant he was swept off his feet he would be doomed."