CHAPTER XIV.
WALTER CLYDE'S STORY.
Barney Mulloy had been holding on to keep from shouting with laughter,and now he exploded.
"Ha! ha! ha!" he roared. "Pwhat do yez think av thot, profissor? Thotwur th' narrowest escape ivver hearrud av, ur Oi'm a loier!"
"Send for the undertaker!" came in a hollow groan from the lips of theprofessor.
"You do not seem to feel well?" said Frank, hastening to the man'sassistance. "What is the trouble?"
"If I die of heart failure you will be responsible!" fiercely gratedScotch.
"Doie!" cried Barney. "Whoy, ye'll live ter pick daisies on yer owngrave, profissor."
"This is terrible!" faintly rumbled the little man, as he regained hischair, and began to mop cold perspiration from his face with ahandkerchief.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," cried Frank.
The door opened, and a boy about seventeen years of age entered theroom. He was a slender, delicate-appearing fellow, but he had a goodface and steady eyes.
"Hurrah!" cried Frank. "Here is my preserver! Professor Scotch, permitme to introduce you to Mr. Walter Clyde."
The professor held out a limp hand to the boy, saying:
"Excuse me if I do not rise. Frank just robbed me of strength by tellinghow you saved his life by derailing an express train and killing fortypassengers."
Clyde was quick to catch on. A faint look of astonishment was followedby a smile, and he said:
"Mr. Merriwell is mistaken."
"Ha!" cried the professor. "Then you denounce the whole story as false?"
"I said Mr. Merriwell was mistaken--but thirty-nine passengers werekilled," said the newcomer, who had caught the end of Frank's yarn.
The professor came near having a fit, and Barney Mulloy held onto hissides, convulsed with merriment.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Clyde," said Frank. "I may have stretched theyarn a trifle."
"Just a trifle!" muttered the professor.
"If I had used giant-powder instead of dynamite in blowing up thetrack," said Clyde, "it is possible there might have been a smaller lossof life."
"But you did not blow up the track at all," hastily put in Frank. "Youyanked the train off the rails with a lasso."
"So I did! I was thinking of another case. In this instance, if I hadnot stood so far from the railroad----"
"But you were on the pilot of the engine."
"Was I? So I was. Excuse me if I do not attempt any furtherexplanations."
Then the three boys laughed heartily, and the professor was forced tojoin in at last.
Having restored Scotch to good nature, Frank requested Walter Clyde totell his story. Clyde's face clouded a little, and he slowly said:
"I will tell it briefly. Years ago, when I was a very small child, myfather left his home in the East to make a trip to California. Businesscalled him out there, and, on his way, he entered this Territory. Henever reached California.
"My father had a deadly enemy--a man who had sworn to kill him someday. That man's name was Uric Dugan. Father had been instrumental insending him to prison for robbery, but he had escaped, fled to the West,and, it was said, joined the Mormons.
"Fate led Uric Dugan and my father to meet in Utah. What happened thenis known to Dugan alone. Months passed, and mother heard no word fromfather. She grew thin and pale and desperate. At length, a letter cameto her. It was from Uric Dugan.
"That letter told my mother that father had died in a living tomb, wherehe had been placed and kept by Dugan till he went mad. Dugan gloatedover his frightful crime. He told how father had raved in his delirium,called wildly for his wife and his boy, and how her name was last on hislips when he died."
"The monster!" broke in Professor Scotch, who was intensely interested.
"He was in truth a monster," agreed Clyde. "The effect of that letter onmy mother was terrible. It nearly drove her mad, and she was ill a longtime. When she recovered, she took measures to find and punish Dugan,but she never succeeded. She learned, however, that Dugan, after joiningthe Mormons, had been one of that terrible organization known as theDanites. He had disappeared, and no trace of him could be found.
"The detective who was in my mother's employ was aided by an old guide,miner, and fortune-hunter in general, known as Ben Barr. Barr learnedthe whole story of my father's disappearance, and it happened that heknew Uric Dugan--that Dugan had once done him an injury. He took a greatinterest in the case, and did his best to trace the man. As I have said,Dugan was not found, nor did the detective learn anything further of myfather.
"Years passed, and I grew up. The years wrought their changes in Utah,and the Destroying Angels ceased to be a menace to every Gentile in theTerritory. The younger Mormons regretted that such an organization hadever existed, and had been in any way connected with the Mormon Church.Danites who had been powerful and feared, found their former friendsturning against them. Even the Mormon Church pretended to denounce them.John D. Lee, chief in the Mountain Meadow butchery, was captured, tried,found guilty, and shot. There were others as guilty as Lee, and they,who had been the hunters, found themselves hunted. They fled to themountains, hid, disguised themselves, changed their names, and dideverything they could to escape retributive justice.
"It seems that Dugan was still with them, and he found himself afugitive like the others. Somewhere in Southern Utah, west of theColorado, and amid the wild mountains that are to be found to the northof the Escalante River, the hunted Danites found a home where theybelieved they would be safe from pursuit, and there the last remnant ofthe once terrible Destroying Angels are living to-day.
"In his wanderings, Ben Barr came upon this retreat of the Danites, andthere he saw Uric Dugan, who is now the chief of the band. Barr barelyescaped with his life, and he lost no time in writing to my mother,telling her what he had discovered.
"This was enough to revive old memories and set mother to brooding overit. Her health was not very good, and I am sure that she worried herselfto death. Before she died she told me of a dream that had come to herfor three successive nights. In that dream she had seen my father, andhe was still living, although he was unable to return to her. Just whyhe could not return was not very clear, but it was because of Dugan.
"As she was dying, my mother called me to her side and told me of thedream. 'My boy,' she said, 'I know your father is still living, and Iwant you to find him. Something has told me that you will be successful.Promise me that when I am gone you will not rest until you have foundhim or have satisfied yourself beyond the shadow of a doubt that he isdead.'
"I gave that promise, and I am here to search for my father and for UricDugan. If father is not living, I may be able to avenge him, and thatwill set me at rest.
"By accident I was thrown in with Mr. Merriwell, and we became somewhatfriendly. I told him my story, and he was intensely interested in it. Heasked me to let him go along. I did not refuse, and he said he wouldobtain your consent. That is all."
"Young man," said Professor Scotch, "I sympathize with you, and Isincerely hope you may be successful; but I do not care to have Frankthrust himself into such perils as you may encounter on that search."
"Hold on, professor!" cried Frank. "Just wait and----"
Scotch waved his hand.
"The time has come for me to assert my authority," he said, sternly;"and I propose to assert it."
"You will not let me go?"
"No, sir!"
"All right. You'll be sorry, professor."
"That sounds like a threat, young man. Don't threaten me. This searchlooks like a wild-goose chase. How do you propose to reach this retreatof the Danites?" he asked, turning to Clyde.
"By cruising down the river in a strong boat which I have bought andprovisioned for the trip."
"And did you boys think of going alone?"
"Oh no."
"Who was going with you?"
"Two explorers."
"Their names."
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"Colton Graves and Caleb Kerney."
"What do you know about them?"
"Nothing, except that they wish to take a cruise through the canyons."
"Young man," said the professor, "let me give you a bit of advice."
But before he could do so there came a sharp knock on the door.