ing,
the boys carried Kate out to the door in an easy-chair, and they sat
down near her.

Mrs. Kenyon sat on the steps and smoked her black pipe, looking as
stolid and indifferent as ever.

"Kate," said Frank, "when did you have your hair cut short? Where is
that profusion of beautiful hair you wore when we first saw you?"

"That?" she smiled. "Why, my har war cut more'n a year ago. I had it
made inter a 'switch,' and I wore it so nobody'd know I had it cut."

"You did that in order that you might wear the black wig when you
personated Muriel?"

"Yes."

"You could do that easily over your short hair."

"Yes."

"Well, you played the part well, and you made a dashing boy. But how
about the Muriel who appeared while you were in the mill with us?"

She laughed a bit.

"You-uns war so sharp that I judged I'd make yer think ye didn't know
so much ez you thought, an' I fixed it up ter have another person show
up in my place."

"I see. But who was this other person?"

"Dummy. He is no bigger than I, an' he is a good mimic. He rode jes'
like me."

"Begorra! he did thot!" nodded Barney. "It's mesilf thot wur chated, an'
thot's not aisy."

"You are a shrewd little girl," declared Frank; "and you are dead lucky
to escape with your life after getting Miller's bullet. But Miller won't
trouble you more."

Mrs. Kenyon rose and went into the hut, while Barney lazily strolled
down to the creek, leaving Frank and Kate alone.

Half an hour later, as he was coming back, the Irish lad heard Kate
saying:

"I know I'm igerent, an' I'm not fitten fer any educated man. Still, you
an' I is friends, Frank, an' friends we'll allus be."

"Friends we will always be," said Frank, softly.

After this little more was said.

It was not long before our friends left the locality, this time bound
for Oklahoma, Utah and California. What Frank's adventures were in those
places will be told in another volume, entitled, "Frank Merriwell's
Bravery."

"We are well out of that," said Frank, as they journeyed away. "Am I not
right, Barney?"

"Sure, Frankie, sure!" was Barney's answer. "To tell the whole thruth,
me b'y, ye're nivver wrong, nivver!"

And Barney was right, eh, reader?

THE END.

End of Project Gutenberg's Frank Merriwell Down South, by Burt L. Standish

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRANK MERRIWELL DOWN SOUTH ***

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