Ping pang crash Frank Merriwell, making a sharp turn in a narrow mountain path, felt his bicycle strike something which gave under his weight with a snapping, musical sound, and almost precipitated him over the handle bars of his machine. Bart Hodge, who was close behind, checked himself with difficulty, and sang out: "What's wrong, Frank?" "Smashed a music box, I guess," answered Frank, leaping down and coming back. In single file behind Frank Merriwell and his chum, Bart Hodge, came the other members of the bicycle party-fat and lazy Bruce Browning; the gallant Virginian, Jack Diamond;...

Millions of bright stars shone serenely through the clear Arizona night, shedding their soft white light on the great arid plains and the mysterious mesas and mighty mountains. Throughout the night Frank Merriwell lay ensconced behind some sheltering rocks in a deep ravine, where he had been trapped by the ruffians in the employ of the mining trust, who were determined to wrest from him the precious papers they believed to be in his possession. Old Joe Crowfoot, the aged Indian friend of Merriwell, who had been snared with him, had, shortly after nightfall, taken the precious oilskin package,...