Aaron had followed tremblingly at the heels of the boys. Now Professor Gunn came hastening from the house and joined them.

"It's awful-perfectly awful!" he fluttered. "I fear the shock will kill his sister. She's in a dreadful condition. Boys, we must send to town right off for the officers. We are in danger of our lives. At this moment we are in deadly peril. I'm afraid out here where the ruffians may spring upon us, and I'm afraid in there with no one but a woman and a girl."

"Go back to the inn, professor," directed d.i.c.k. "Stay with the widow and Nadia."

"What if the ruffians come?"

"You'll be there to protect the ladies. It will give you an opportunity to display your heroism and fighting blood."

"But this isn't the right kind of an opportunity," said Zenas. "Boys, you are recklessly exposing your lives! Come back into the inn at once.

I can't permit you to be so careless."

"You'll have to permit it now," retorted Merriwell.

"What, do you dare disobey my orders?"

"On an occasion like this, yes. It is necessary, professor."

Zenas gasped and hesitated.

"Do come in!" he urged. "What can I tell your brother if anything serious happens to you?"

"Tell him the truth, and he will be satisfied. I am doing what my brother would wish me to do."

"Dear! dear!" muttered Gunn. "I regret that we ever came here. I fear we'll all be murdered before we get away."

Mumbling to himself, he hastened tremblingly back to the inn.

"His courage has all oozed out," said d.i.c.k.

"Waugh! I should say it had!" growled Brad, in disgust.

Aaron now attempted to frighten the boys by telling them how fierce the masked men were and how thoroughly armed.

"Singular you saw so much of them," observed d.i.c.k. "Never mind if they are armed thus and ready to commit murder at the drop of a hat; we'll do our best to trail them, just the same."

"Right, partner!" cried Buckhart. "It's up to us to do everything we can for the sake of Nadia. It hurt me a heap to see her heartbroken over her brother, and I couldn't stay with her any longer. I told her we'd find him."

Down the road went d.i.c.k and Brad, with Aaron following them like a dog.

They entered the woods, where the bare trees stood silent and grim, coming at length to the path that turned off toward the lake. This d.i.c.k took.

Reaching the sh.o.r.e, Merriwell quickly announced that Budthorne had been placed in a boat and taken away.

"That lad ha' th' power o' a witch!" whispered Aaron to himself. Then he shook as he beheld d.i.c.k's eyes fastened on him.

"Come," said the boy grimly, "we can't follow them on water, for that leaves no trail. We'll return to the inn."

As they entered the inn Nadia rushed at them, asking if they had learned where her brother was and what had happened to him.

"Not yet," answered Merriwell; "but we'll know all about it in a minute."

"How-how will you learn the truth?"

"From Aaron," was the quiet answer that made the little man gasp.

"Aaron? He--"

"He knows much more than he has seen fit to tell."

"Guidness kens I ha' told ye everything!" protested the alarmed man.

d.i.c.k's dark eyes were fastened on Aaron, and to the latter they seemed to bore into his very soul.

"Sit there," commanded the boy, pointing toward a chair.

Aaron felt that he was compelled to do so.

d.i.c.k drew another chair before the man, sitting where he could look him straight in the eyes.

"Aaron," he said, "who is your best friend?"

"Mrs. Myles, sir."

"Do you wish to ruin her?"

"Na, na; not for th' world!"

"Do you know that what has happened here to-night will ruin her unless you tell the whole truth and thus enable us to follow Budthorne's captors and rescue him?"

"Na, na!"

"But it will. The story will travel far and wide. Every one will hear how a young American, a guest at this inn, was captured by ruffians and carried off. Travelers will shun the place. Mrs. Myles will find her business gone. With no income, she'll soon come to want and suffering.

Without money she'll be unable to buy flour, and meat, and fuel. There will be no warm fire on her hearth in the bleak winter, and she'll suffer from hunger. You will be responsible-you, the one she took in when you were in wretchedness, the one she has fed, and housed, and trusted."

Aaron held up his hands.

"I canna be to blame for it!" he cried.

"You will be. You met Budthorne out there by understanding. You knew those men were hidden behind the little building. You knew they meant to carry him away. You were not injured or struck down. You even cut that tiny gash on your own head with a common knife. Here it is. I picked it up where in your excitement you dropped it in the snow."

d.i.c.k produced and held up the knife.

Aaron's face was ghastly, and a terrible fear was in his eyes. This boy with the searching eyes knew just what had happened, and it was useless to lie.

"I canna tell!" moaned the little man. "Do na look a' me wi' them eyes!

I canna tell! I canna tell!"

"My poor lad!" exclaimed the widow. "Do na fear, but speak out th'