-a way."

Frank fancied the fellow was speaking louder than was necessary. In
fact, he could not see that it was necessary for Mazaro to speak at all.

And then the boy was sure he heard footsteps behind them!

He was caught between two fires--he was trapped!

Frank's first impulse was to leap forward, knock Mazaro down, and take
to his heels, keeping straight on through the passage.

A second thought followed the first quite swiftly.

He knew not where the passage led, and he knew not what pitfalls it
might contain.

At that moment Frank felt a thrill of actual fear, nervy though he was;
but he understood that he must not let fear get the best of him, and he
instantly flung it off.

His ears were open, his eyes were open, and every sense was on the
alert.

"Let them come!" he almost exclaimed, aloud. "I will give them a warm
reception!"

Then he noticed that they passed a narrow opening, like a broken door,
and, the next moment he seemed to feel cat-like footfalls at his very
heels.

In a twinkling Frank whirled about, crying:

"Hold up where you are! I am armed, and I'll shoot if crowded!"

He had made no mistake, for his eyes had grown accustomed to the
darkness of the passage, and he could see three dark figures blocking
his retreat along the passage.

For one brief second his eyes turned the other way, and it seemed that
Manuel Mazaro had been joined by two or three others, for he saw several
forms in that direction.

This sudden action of the trapped boy had filled these fellows with
surprise and dismay, and curses of anger broke from their lips, the
words being hissed rather than spoken.

Frank knew he must attract attention in some way, and so of a sudden he
fired a shot into the air.

The flash of his revolver showed him several dark, villainous faces.

"Upon him!" cried Mazaro, in Spanish. "Be quick about it!"

"Back!" shouted Frank, lifting the revolver. "I'll not waste another
bullet!"

"Thot's th' talk, me laddybuck!" rang out a familiar voice. "Give th'
spalpanes cold lead, an' plinty av it, Frankie! O'im wid yez!"

"Barney Mulloy!" Frank almost screamed, in joyous amazement.

CHAPTER XVIII.

BARNEY ON HAND.

"Thot's me name, an' this is me marruck!" cried the Irish lad, from the
darkness.

There was a hurrying rush of feet, and then--smack! smack!--two dark
figures were seen flying through the darkness as if they had been struck
by battering-rams.

"Hurrah!" che