onder if he still lives."

He turned the man upon his back, discovering signs of life as he did so.
Hastily lighting a match, he held the blaze protected by his curved
hands and threw the light upon the man's face.

"O'Toole!" he gasped.

The Irishman was breathing faintly, and instantly Frank did what he
could to restore him. In a few moments the poor fellow moaned a bit.

Striking another match, Merry found O'Toole's eyes were wide open, but
he was bleeding from the mouth and presented a ghastly appearance. He
was conscious, however.

"O'Toole, where are you hurt?" asked Merry.

"Me back is broke," was the faint answer. "Oi'm a dead mon."

"What happened? How did you fall? Tell me, for, at least, I may be able
to avenge you."

"It's the dead returned to loife!" gasped the dying man. "Oi saw him up
there, me bhoy!"

"Who did you see?"

"Thot human divvil Porrfeeus dil Noort."

"Impossible! Del Norte is dead."

"Thin it wur his ghost, fer Oi saw him, with his--face pale--an' a
whoite bandage about his head. This is me punishmint--fer havin'--fer
havin' anything to do wid th' loikes av him!"

O'Toole labored through this speech with failing strength, and Frank saw
he was sinking rapidly.

"Tell me quickly, man," urged Merry, "just where you saw him."

"Up yonder, me bhoy. Red Ben is there. Oi found him, an' Oi wur--talkin'
wid him. Oi know Ben, an' Oi saved his loife wance by--by stroikin' up
the hand av a mon who wur--goin' to shoot him."

It was with the greatest difficulty that O'Toole labored to draw his
breath. Frank was deeply moved by the dying agonies of the unfortunate
fellow, for Merry's experience convinced him that the Irishman was
indeed dying.

However, Frank felt it his duty to learn everything possible while
O'Toole could speak, and so he urged him to go on.

"It's me best Oi--did fer ye, Misther Merriwell--an' fer th' girrul. Oi
had Red Ben ready to--ready to turrn on th' villains--pwhat carried her
off. It's your promise av protiction he asked fer if he--done thot. Oi
wur comin'--to foind ye. Jist thin th'--the divvil--dead ur
aloive--walked out, pointin' av--his finger at me. Oi shtarted to run
away, an' thin--an' thin Oi fell. Thot's all, me bhoy."

Remarkable and unaccountable though it seemed, Frank came to believe,
while O'Toole talked, that Del Norte still lived. That explained the
kidnapping of Inza. Merry had wondered that Del Norte's late companions
should make such a m