Frank Merriwells Pursuit | Page 4

you, Misther Merriwell?" cried O'Toole, joyously. "It's a great
relafe to hear your foine, musical voice wance more! Wait a minute
unthil Oi open th' dure."
The door was unlocked and thrown open. O'Toole stood with a rifle in
his hands, looking pale and agitated. Around his waist was a belt
holding a pair, of pistols and a knife.
"What's the matter, man?" asked Hatch. "You look like a walking
arsenal?"
"It's me loife Oi'm ready to defind to th' larrust gasp," declared the
Irishman.
"Your life? Why, what----"
"Oi'm in danger of bein' murthered."
"In danger?"
"Ivery minute av me ixistence."
"What makes you think that?"
"Oi don't think it; Oi know it. Afther ye wint away to th' shtation Oi sat
on th' verandy shmokin' me poipe an' thinkin'. The longer Oi thought th'
more froightened Oi became. It wur Porrfeeus dil Noort thot paid me
well to assist him in a litthle schame to trap a certain young gintleman
named Frank Merriwell. Oi took his money and promised to rinder me
best assistance. Oi know this parrut av th' counthry well, an' so Oi was
valuable to Dil Noort. Oi towld him about th' owld hut in th' valley an'
th' natural well. Oi towld him a man dhropped inther thot well moight
shtay there an' rot widout ivver bein' found. That wur pwhere he meant
to dispose av you, Misther Merriwell. Afther that it was yersilf thot
saved me loife at Sarrynack Lake. Thin Oi says, says Oi, 'O'Toole, ye

miserable divvil, av ye don't git aven wid thot foine young gint, ye
ought to be hanged fer a shnake.' Oi knew ye would be thrapped thot
same noight, Misther Merriwell, an' Oi rode loike th' ould bhoy to cut
yez off an' get me finger in the poie. You remimber pwhat happened."
"I remember that you aided me to escape from the hands of Del Norte
and his paid desperadoes," nodded Frank.
"An' got mesilf disloiked fer it. Oi knew Dil Noort would be ready to
cut me throat on soight. Oi thought th' safest thing wur to hilp capture
Dil Noort, an' thot's pwhat took me here, pwhere Oi arrived just in
toime to hilp in the search fer Misther Shcott."
"And help us you certainly did," nodded Merry. "Aided by you, we lost
no time in finding the valley and the well in which Mr. Scott was
imprisoned."
"But it's th' divvil's own doin's there was before thot," said O'Toole. "Oi
wur in a bad shcrape whin Oi run inther th' hands av Bantry Hagan an'
he marruched me to thot old hut, where Oi was bound hand an' foot.
Nivver a bit did Oi drame th' drunk aslape on th' flure av th' hut an'
shnorin' away wur yersilf, Misther Merriwell. Aven whin Oi lay chlose
to yez an' ye began to untoie me bonds Oi couldn't suspict it was yersilf.
Whin Dil Noort showed up Oi knew it meant throuble, an' sure it wur a
relafe to feel in me hand th' pistol ye put there. Th' divvil bent over me
wid a knoife in his hands, an' Oi saw murther in his oies. Thin Oi didn't
wait, but Oi shot him through th' head."
"But I don't understand what all this has to do with the fear you profess
to feel," said Hatch. "I didn't fancy you were a coward, O'Toole."
"No more Oi am; but Porrfeeus dil Noort is a moighty dangerous mon,
and he----"
"Is dead. You're not afraid of dead men?"
"It's dead Oi saw him before me," nodded the Irishman; "but Oi wish
Oi had seen him buried, so Oi do. Whin we returned afther pulling

Misther Shcott out av th' well Dil Noort's body wur gone."
"His companions carried it away," said Merry.
"Mebbe thot's roight," said O'Toole; "but afther ye left me here, wid
Joe gone an' mesilf all alone, it's nervous Oi became. Oi took to thinkin'
it all over, an' in th' air Oi hearrud a voice whisper, 'O'Toole, yure
goose is cooked, fer, dead ur aloive. Porrfeeus dil Noort will get aven
wid ye!' It made me have cowld chills down me back, an' out in th'
grove yonder Oi saw shadows movin' an' crapin'. Oi began to ixpect a
bullet through me body, an' afther a whoile Oi joomped up an' run
inther th' cabin, jist shakin' loike Oi had a chill an' me tathe knockin'
togither. Oi fashtened th' dures an' closed th' shutters av ivery windy.
Thin Oi arrmed mesilf, an' nivver in all me loife did Oi hear swater
music than whin ye shpoke outside, Misther Merriwell."
Merriwell laughed.
"I declare, O'Toole, I'd never expect a man of your courage and wit to
be frightened in such a manner.