"I had to defend myself," he thought. "I'm sorry I was concerned in it, but I think Jose Murillo will trouble Juanita no more."

She was waiting in a trembling anxiety as he reappeared. He picked up his coat and put it on.

"Deed you find heem?"

"Not a trace," answered Carker. "He must have sunk like a stone. It's an unfortunate affair, Juanita, but you have no further cause to fear that man. Come, little girl, I'll take you back to the house. Give me your arm."

Timidly she clung to his arm, and they turned their steps toward Merry Home.

"Do you believe in fate?" asked Carker.

"Si, senor. Eet was fate that I should meet Senor Murillo as I deed."

"And it was fate that led me here. I have been seeking an opportunity to speak with you all the afternoon. You would not give me a chance. Every time I approached you ran away from me. Why did you do so, Juanita?"

"Why deed you weesh to speak with me?"

"I had something I wished to say. Juanita, I can't seem to find the words. I presume I'm rather excited. That's natural under the circ.u.mstances. It was something about you that bewitched me. It must have been your eyes."

"Oo, what ees eet you say, senor? You theenk I do not know sometheeng.

On the train you tell of the girl who would not marree you--the girl who marree the other man. You meet her in the car with Senora Badgaire. I know! I know! She ees the one! You luf her!"

"I may as well make a clean breast of it," said Carker. "I thought I did once. She gave me the shake, Juanita. It's all over now."

"How can you say that? You theenk me a foolish girl to believe you? Wait and I weel tell you what I see. This afternoon you meet her in the little retreat of the shrubbery. I deed not know you were there. I walk out alone. I pa.s.s the place. I see you with her."

"That was unfortunate--for me. I presume it looked like an appointment.

It was an accident, Juanita. It's all over between Mrs. Morton and Gregory Carker."

But the girl remembered how she had seen them standing there looking into each other's eyes, while the woman's arm was on Carker's shoulder.

"Wait, senor!" she panted. "Many time I have been told all the Americans are deceivers. I know what I see with my eyes. Juanita ees no longer a child."

"Oh, won't you listen? Won't you take my word?"

"I weel not leesten now," she declared. "Some time when you prove to me that you no longer care for her, maybe I weel leesten. I must have the proof, senor."

"I'll prove it somehow!" vowed Carker.

CHAPTER XXV.

A STARTLING DISCOVERY.

Having escorted Juanita back to the house, Carker called Frank aside and told him what had happened at the lake.

"I'm afraid I'm responsible for a dead Mexican," said Carker. "I think Murillo was drowned."

"It's unfortunate that you are concerned in it," said Frank; "but Murillo will be no great loss to the world. Nevertheless we'll do our duty and report the affair to the authorities without delay."

Making an excuse to the rest of the party, Frank and Greg walked into the village, found Bill Hunker, the constable, and told him precisely what had taken place.

"The Mexican pulled a knife on ye, did he, young feller? Well, consarn them Mexicans! I've allus heerd they was dangerous critters. 'Cordin' to your story, you wan't none to blame in this affair. So the dod-rabbited critter kinder went in swimmin' arter that, did he? Think he's drowned, do ye? Um-her! I don't s'pose it'll do no good for us to go fishin' for him to-night. I'll git some fellers and drag for him in the mornin'.

Don't s'pose you want him to soak there in your lake, Mr. Merriwell, and spile the water. We'll dig him out and bury him in the pauper's lot, if n.o.body don't claim his carkiss. I judge there'll be a settin' of the coroner's jury on the case, but I kinder guess you needn't worry, young man. A Mexican that tackles a woman gits what he desarves if he's drownded same as this one. Don't you worry. Don't you fret. I s'pose this'll make plenty of talk for the boys at Applesnack's to-night. I was over there a while ago and hung around a-listenin' to Cy Tellmore yarnin' it until he made me sick and I had to git out. I swan that man can lie more inside of five minutes than any human critter that ever breathed."

Frank smiled.

"Cyrus has a vivid imagination," he observed.

"'Magination? 'magination?" squawked Hunker. "Mebbe that's what you call it, but I'd give it a stronger name than that. When I tell him about this affair I bet a squash he'll have some kind of a story 'bout drowndin' seventeen Mexicans all in a bunch. Say, have any of your folks down that way seen anything of Eli Given this arternoon?"

"Why," answered Frank, "we saw Mr. Given, Mr. Small, and Deacon Hewett shortly after midday."

"Er-haw! haw! haw!" laughed Hunker. "I reckon the whole town seen 'em, too. Say, they hit up Applesnack's cider barrel, and the stuff fixed 'em--it suttinly fixed 'em. They were corned for keeps. Went through town a-hoorayin' and a-whoopin' for you and for all your friends. Said they was goin' down to show their good feelin's toward ye. Applesnack and a few of the boys tried to keep 'em away, but 'twan't no use. Ten minutes arter they went down the road Mis's Given come lookin' for Eli, and some one told her where he'd gone. She hit the trail, and next we saw she was marchin' him back through town, with Uncle Eb and the deacon peggin' along behind, lookin' as meek and meechin' as wet cats.

"I dunno what happened arter Mis's Given gut Eli home, but he broke out ag'in and took to the woods or somewheres, and she ain't been able to find him. She was so all-fired mad that she come to me and wanted him 'rested. I had hard work to persuade her not to have him jugged. 'Course if it had been some feller who was inclined to git on a tear and raise thunder, I'd 'a' jest gone out and muckled onto him and shoved him into the lockup. But I did kinder hate to lock Eli up.

"I went over to Uncle Eb's lookin' for him, and there was Eben out in the woodshed a-snoozin' on a hoss blanket. Took me 'bout fifteen minutes to wake him up. He didn't know nuthin' 'bout Eli, so I went over to Deacon Hewett's. Er-haw! haw! haw! The deacon's wife had him on the lounge a-bathin' his head with cold water and a-holdin' smellin' salts to his nose. She said he'd been took sick sudden and was havin' a crackin' headache. She was in for callin' the doctor, but the deacon he wouldn't have it. He jest laid on the lounge and groaned and kept sayin' he was a poor sinful worm of the earth.

"When I left Mis's Hewett she follered me outside, pulled me by the sleeve and kinder looked shamed and downcast and asked me did I believe the deacon had been drinkin'. She said he told her he jest took a little medicine when the headache fust struck him. I didn't give him away. I looked s'prised and shook my head and told her he wasn't a drinkin' man, so 'course there wan't no question on that p'int. But we're kinder worried 'bout Eli. If he don't turn up before long, we're goin' to send out searchers for him."

"You needn't bother to do that, Bill," said a mild, mournful voice, as a dusky figure came round the corner of the house. "I'm all right. I'm purty well straightened out now, and I guess I'll go back home and kinder quiet mother's narves. You see she was rather excited and disturbed over the affair, and she wouldn't let me rest arter I gut to the house, so I sneaked off into Silus Cobb's barn, crawled into the haymow and slept a while. It was dark when I woke up, and I didn't know jest where I was. 'Twixt you and me, I'm going to tell Rufe Applesnack what I think of him. That cider was the most violent stuff I ever put down my woozle. It had an awful kick. I s'pose me and Eben and Elnathan are disgraced in Bloomfield for the rest of our lives. I don't think I'll show my head outside of the house for a month."

Frank slapped the downcast old man on the shoulder and tried to brace him up, but Given was so depressed that he refused to cheer up in the slightest.

"Think you can find your way home, Eli?" asked Hunker.

"Well, I'm over seven and I'm sober now," was the answer. "Don't you fret 'bout me. I'll git home, all right."

Bright and early the following morning Hunker and several villagers appeared at Merry Home and asked leave to use Frank's boats in the search for the body of the Mexican.

After breakfast Merriwell and a number of his friends went over to the lake and found the searchers at work.

Hunker reported that they had discovered no trace of the missing man.

Carker, Hodge, and Merriwell launched a boat from the boathouse and joined in the work.

"It was on this cliff here that we had the encounter," explained Greg, as they rowed back and forth beneath the bluff. "The man's body should be here somewhere. There seems to be no particular current at this spot to carry it away. I think we'll find Jose Murillo within thirty yards of this locality."

There was a harsh, unpleasant laugh, and a voice cried:

"Senor Carkaire ees right. Jose Murillo ees witheen thirtee yards of heem thees minute."

Looking up in astonishment, the trio in the boat beheld the Mexican standing on the brink of the cliff. His clothes were somewhat wrinkled and soiled, seeming to need cleansing and pressing. But the man was there in the flesh, grinning at them in a malicious, triumphant manner.

Greg Carker smothered an exclamation of amazement.