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  "'What's that!' howled the little professor, dancingabout in his night robe." (See page 109)]

  Frank Merriwell Down South

  BY

  BURT L. STANDISH

  AUTHOR OF "Frank Merriwell's School-Days," "Frank Merriwell's Chums,""Frank Merriwell's Foes," etc.

  PHILADELPHIA DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER 610 SOUTH WASHINGTON SQUARE

  Copyright, 1903 By STREET & SMITH

  Frank Merriwell Down South

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I--A Wonderful Story 7 II--Gone 13 III--Held for Ransom 19 IV--Unmasked 27 V--Kidnaped 31 VI--Carried into the Mountains 37 VII--The Camp in the Desert 42 VIII--The Treasure Seeker 46 IX--The Professor's Escape 51 X--The Stranger 57 XI--The Awakening Volcano 62 XII--Doom of the Silver Palace 68 XIII--A Stampede in a City 75 XIV--The Hot Blood of Youth 80 XV--Mystery of the Flower Queen 85 XVI--Professor Scotch Feels Ill 90 XVII--Led into a Trap 95 XVIII--Barney on Hand 100 XIX--A Humble Apology 106 XX--The Professor's Courage 111 XXI--Frank's Bold Move 116 XXII--The Queen is Found 121 XXIII--Fighting Lads 127 XXIV--End of the Search 132 XXV--The Mysterious Canoe 138 XXVI--Still More Mysterious 144 XXVII--In the Everglades 149 XXVIII--The Hut on the Island 155 XXIX--A Wild Night in the Swamp 160 XXX--Frank's Shot 165 XXXI--Young in Years Only 170 XXXII--A Mysterious Transformation 177 XXXIII--Gage Takes a Turn 181 XXXIV--A Fearful Fate 186 XXXV--The Serpent Vine 192 XXXVI--Right or Wrong 196 XXXVII--Frank's Mercy 200XXXVIII--In the Mountains Again 206 XXXIX--Frank and Kate 212 XL--A Jealous Lover 218 XLI--Facing Death 222 XLII--Muriel 228 XLIII--Saved! 240 XLIV--Frank's Suspicion 248 XLV--The Greatest Peril 257 XLVI--The Mystery of Muriel 263

  [Transcriber's Note: The following list of illustrations has beencreated for this electronic edition. Some illustrations have been movedto positions closer to their appearance in the text.]

  LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

  "'What's that!' howled the little professor, dancingabout in his night robe." (See page 109)

  "Frank began shooting, and his first bullet broughtdown one of the ponies of the pursuers." (See page 14)

  "The white canoe had stopped, and was lying calmly onthe inky surface of the shadowed water." (See page 147)

  "Kate grasped the assailant by the collar, and withastonishing strength, pulled him off the prostratelad." (See page 218)

  Frank Merriwell Down South.

  CHAPTER I.

  A WONDERFUL STORY.

  "It is in the heart of the Sierra Madre range, one hundred andtwenty-five miles west of Zacatecas," said the dying man. "Across theblue chasm you can see its towers and turrets glistening in thesunshine. It is like a beautiful dream--dazzling, astounding, grand!"

  "He wanders in his mind," softly declared Professor Scotch. "Poorfellow! His brain was turned and he was brought to his death by hisfruitless search for the mythical Silver Palace."

  The man who lay on a bed of grass in one corner of the wretched adobehut turned a reproachful look on the little professor.

  "You are wrong," he asserted, in a voice that seemed to have gainedstrength for the moment. "I am not deranged--I am not deceived by anhallucination. With my eyes I have seen the wonderful SilverPalace--yes, more than that, I have stood within the palace and beheldthe marvelous treasures which it contains."

  The professor turned away to hide the look on his face, but FrankMerriwell, deeply interested, bent over the unfortunate man, asking:

  "By what route can this wonderful palace be reached?"

  "There is no route. Between us and the Silver Palace lie waterlessdeserts, great mountains, and, at last, a yawning chasm, miles in width,miles in depth. This chasm extends entirely round the broad plateau onwhich the wonderful palace stands like a dazzling dream. The bottom ofthe chasm is hidden by mists which assume fantastic forms, and whirl andsway and dash forward and backward, like battling armies. Indians fearthe place; Mexicans hold it in superstitious horror. It is said thatthese mist-like forms are the ghosts of warriors dead and gone, awonderful people who built the Silver Palace in the days ofCortez--built it where the Spaniard could not reach and despoil it."

  Despite his doubts, the professor was listening with strong interest tothis remarkable tale.

  The fourth person in the hut was the Dutch boy, Hans Dunnerwust, who saton the ground, his back against the wall, his jaw dropped and his eyesbulging. Occasionally, as he listened to the words of the dying man, hewould mutter:

  "Chimminy Gristmas!"

  For several weeks Frank Merriwell, our hero, Hans, his chum, andProfessor Scotch, his guardian, had been exploring the country aroundthe city of Mendoza, Mexico. They had come to Mexico after havingnumerous adventures in our own country, as related in "Frank MerriwellOut West," a former volume of this series.

  Only a short hour before they had run across the sufferer, whose headseemed so full of the things he had seen at what he called the SilverPalace. They had found him almost dead in a hut at the edge of a sandyplain, suffering great pain and calling loudly for aid. They had donewhat they could, and then he had begun to talk, as related above.

  With surprising strength the man on the bed of grass sat up, stretchingout his hands, gazing across the sunlit sand-plain beyond the open doorof the hut, and went on:

  "I see it now--I see it once again! There, there--see it gleaming like adazzling diamond in the sunshine! See its beautiful towers and turrets!That dome is of pure gold! Within those walls are treasures untold!There are great vaults of gold and silver ornaments, bars and ingots!There are precious stones in profusion! And all this treasure would makea thousand men rich for life! But it's not for me--it's lost to meforever!"

  With a stifled moan, he fell back into Frank's arms, and was lowered onthe bed of grass.

  Professor Scotch hastily felt the man's pulse, listened for the beatingof his heart, and then cried:

  "Quick, Frank--the brandy! It may be too late, but we'll try to give hima few more minutes of life."

  "That's right!" palpitated Frank. "Bring him back to consciousness, forwe have not yet learned how to reach the Silver Palace."

  "There is no such place as the Silver Palace," sharply declared theprofessor, as he forced a few drops of brandy between the lips of theunfortunate man. "The fellow has dreamed it."

  "Perhaps."

  "Perhaps! Why, Frank, I took you for a boy of more sense! Think--thinkof the absurdity! It is impossible!"

  "It may be."

  "I know it is."

  "Vell, maype you don'd nefer peen misdooken, brofessor?" insinuatedHans, recovering for a moment from his dazed condition.

  The professor did not notice the Dutch boy's words, for the man on thebed of grass drew a long, fluttering breath and slowly opened his eyes.

  "I thought I saw the palace once more," he whispered. "It was all adelusion."

  "That is true," nodded the professor, "it is all a delusion. Such aplace as this Silver Palace is an absurd impossibility. The illnessthr
ough which you have passed has affected your mind, and you dreamed ofthe palace."

  "It is not so!" returned the man, reproachfully. "I have proof! Youdoubt me--you will not believe?"

  "Be calm--be quiet," urged the professor. "This excitement will cut yourlife short by minutes, and minutes are precious to you now."

  "That is true; minutes are precious," hastily whispered the man. "It isnot the fever I am dying of--no, no! The water from the spring you maysee behind the hut--it has destroyed many people. This morning, beforeyou came, a peon found me here. He told me--he said the spring waspoison. The water robs men of strength--of life. I could not understandhim well. He went away and left me. I could see him running across thedesert, as if from a plague. And now I am dying--dying!"

  "But the Silver Palace?" observed Frank Merriwell. "You are forgettingthat."

  "Yah," nodded the Dutch lad; "you peen forgetting dot, ain'd id?"

  "The proof," urged Frank. "You say you have proof."

  "Yah," put in Hans; "you say you haf der broof. Vere id peen?"

  "It is here," declared the unfortunate, as he fumbled beneath the straw."You are my countrymen--you have been kind to me. Alwin Bushnell maynever return. It is terrible to think all that treasure may belost--lost forever!"

  "Who is Alwin Bushnell?"

  "My partner--the one who was with me when I found the palace."

  "Where is he now?"

  "Heaven knows! He went for another balloon."

  "Another balloon?"

  "Yes; it was with the aid of a balloon that we reached the SilverPalace. Without it we could not have crossed the gulf."

  "Absurd!" muttered the professor.

  Despite the fact that the word was merely murmured, the miserable man onthe bed of grass did not fail to catch it.

  "Oh, I will convince even you!" he exclaimed, gasping for breath, andcontinuing to fumble beneath the straw. "You shall see--you shall know!But our balloon--we had no means of obtaining a further supply of gas.It was barely sufficient to take us across the gulf, with a few piecesof treasure. We struck against the side of the bluff--we were fallingback into the abyss! Barely were we able to scramble out of the car andcling to the rocks. Then we saw the balloon rise a little, like a birdfreed of burden; but it suddenly collapsed, fluttered downward, and themists leaped up and clutched it like a thousand exulting demons,dragging it down from our sight. We crawled up from the rocks, but itwas a close call--a close call."

  He lay exhausted, his eyes closed, his hand ceasing to fumble beneaththe straw. Once more Professor Scotch gave him a little of the brandy.

  Frank Merriwell was more than interested; he could feel his hearttrembling with excitement. Something seemed to tell him that this manwas speaking the truth, and he was eager to hear more.

  For a long time the unfortunate lay gasping painfully for breath, but,at last, he was easier. He opened his eyes, and saw Frank watching himsteadily, with an anxious expression.

  "Ah!" he murmured, exultantly, "you believe me--you do not doubt! I musttell you everything. You shall be Jack Burk's heir. Think of it--heir towealth enough to make you richer than Monte Cristo! Witness--witnessthat I make this boy my heir!"

  He turned to the professor and Hans, and both bowed, the former saying:

  "We are witnesses."

  "Good! We escaped with our lives, but we brought little of the treasurewith us. I was determined to find the way back there, and I made a map.See, here it is."

  He thrust a soiled and crumpled piece of paper into Frank's hand, andthe boy saw there were lines and writing on it.

  "How we found our way out of the mountains, how we endured the heat ofthe desert I cannot tell," went on the weak voice of the man on the bedof straw. "We reached Zacatecas, and then Bushnell went for anotherballoon. He knows friends who have money and power, and he will get theballoon--if he lives."

  "But the proof--the proof that you were going to show us?"

  "It is here! Look!"

  From beneath the straw Jack Burk drew forth a queer little figure ofsolid gold--a figure like the pictures of Aztec gods, which Frank hadseen.

  "This is proof!" declared the man. "It is some of the treasure webrought from the palace. Bushnell took the rest."

  The professor excitedly grasped the little image, and gazed searchinglyat it.

  "It is all right--it is genuine!" he finally exclaimed.

  "Of course it is genuine!" said the man on the bed of grass. "And thereare more in the Silver Palace. There the treasures of the Aztecs werehidden, and they have remained. The country all around is full of fiercenatives, who hold the palace in awe and prevent others from reaching it.They have kept the secret well, but----"

  "Vot vos dot?" interrupted Hans.

  At some distance on the plain outside the hut were wildly gallopinghorses, for they could hear hoof-beats and loud cries. Then came afusillade of pistol shots!

  "Frank began shooting, and his first bullet brought downone of the ponies of the pursuers." (See page 14)]