f yer trolley ye git sometoimes."

"What do you mean by that, Barney? Is it a new sell?"

"Nivver a bit. Oi wur thinkin' av pwhat yez said about Kate Kenyon being
Mooriel, th' moonshoiner."

"I was not off my trolley so very much then."

"G'wan, me b'y! Ye wur crazy as a bidbug."

"You think so, but I have made a study of Muriel and of Kate Kenyon. I
am still inclined to believe the moonshiner is the girl in disguise."

"An' Oi say ye're crazy. No girrul could iver do pwhat thot felly does,
an' no band av min loike th' moonshoiners would iver allow a girrul
loike Kate Kenyon ter boss thim."

"They do not know Muriel is a girl. That is, I am sure the most of them
do not know it--do not dream it."

"Thot shows their common sinse, fer Oi don't belave it mesilf."

"I may be wrong, but I shall not give it up yet."

"Whoy, think pwhat a divvil thot Muriel is! An' th' color av his hair is
black, whoile the girrul's is red."

"I have thought of those things, and I have wondered how she concealed
that mass of red hair; still I am satisfied she does it."

"Well, it's no use to talk to you at all, at all."

However, they did discuss it for some time.

Finally they fell to exploring the old mill, and they wandered from one
part to another till they finally came to the place where they had
entered over a sagging plank. They were standing there, just within the
deeper shadow of the mill, when a man came panting and reeling from the
woods, his hat off, his shirt torn open at the throat, great drops of
perspiration standing on his face, a wild, hunted look in his eyes, and
dashed to the end of the plank that led over the water into the old
mill.

Frank clutched Barney, and the boys fell back a step, watching the man,
who was looking back over his shoulder and listening, the perfect
picture of a hunted thing.

"They're close arter me--ther dogs!" came in a hoarse pant from the
man's lips. "But I turned on 'em--I doubled--an' I hope I fooled 'em.
It's my last chance, fer I'm dead played, and I'm so nigh starved that
it's all I kin do ter drag one foot arter t'other."

He listened again, and then, as if overcome by a sudden fear of being
seen there, he suddenly rushed across the plank and plunged into the
mill.

He ran fairly upon Frank Merriwell.

In the twinkling of an eye man and boy were clasped in a close embrace,
struggling desperately.

"Caught!" cried the fugitive, desperately. "Trapped!"

He tried to hu