lf to invistigate this soide
av th' mountain, but Oi had me oies open all th' toime. Something towld
me ye'd be on th' watch if ye wur with them; an' it's sudint Oi
dhropped whin Oi saw th' bushes move."

"How," said Red Ben, accepting O'Toole's extended hand.

"Howdy yersilf. Long toime no see, eh?"

"What you do here?"

"Pwhat th' divvil are you doin', Ben? It's a bad shcrape ye're afther
gettin' yersilf in through this girrul business. Arter Oi saved ye from
bein' shot full av lead fer foolin' round Bill Curran's woife Oi thought
ye'd know betther than to iver monkey wid a female again."

"Ben he no monkey. White man him gal crazy."

"But ye're afther hilpin' him, ye lunatick, an' it's a schrape ye'll
foind yersilf in. Oi've known ye tin year now. We've worruked togither
guidin' more than wance, and nivver a bit av a quarrel did we have. Oi'd
not tell ye a loie, an' Oi want ye to know thot Frank Merriwell will
rake these mountains down an' lay them level av he don't foind thot
girrul. It's a big oath he has taken to make anny wan shmart thot has
caused her wan minute av distress."

"How you know so much 'bout him?" asked Red Ben, a heavy frown on his
face.

"It's a long shtory, an' Oi'll not tell ye the whole av it. Oi wur paid
to hilp do him a bad turn, an' Oi troied to bate th' head off him. It's
a foine lickin' Oi got. Afther thot he saved me loife whin a mad buck
had me down an' wur about cuttin' me to pieces wid his hoofs. Sure Oi
found him a foine young gintleman, an' it's his friend Oi became. Wid me
own hand Oi put a bullet through the head av thot shnale Porrfeeus dil
Noort; an' now it's some av Dil Noort's gang that's seekin' to git
square by carryin' off Merriwell's girrul. As yer friend, Ben, Oi ax ye
to give th' spalpanes th' double-cross an' hilp Frank Merriwell git back
th' girrul. Av ye do thot Oi promise ye Oi'll see that nivver a bit av
throuble do ye get into. Av ye refuse it's more than wan year ye'll be
afther spindin' in jail fer your foolishness."

The Indian had listened with the frown growing deeper.

"Mebbe you go back on me?" he questioned. "Mebbe you tell um Merriwell
Red Ben help carry off gal?"

"Oi didn't have to tell him. His bist friend saw ye in your canoe afther
ye shtarted wid th' girrul. Ye're in fer it, Ben, me bhoy, onliss ye
turrun roight-about-face an' do pwhat ye can fer th' girrul an' to have
the indacint rascals pwhat shtole her poonished."

"Sit down," invit