CHAPTER XIX.

DOC CLANCY'S CONFESSION.

When Van saw that it was Doc Clancy who had been thrown in to the lion, he could scarcely believe his senses.

Like his companions, he was spellbound for a moment.

As the wretched man cowered close to the side of the pit, the lion halted in front of him, as if to gloat over his victim's misery and terror.

"By Jove!" exclaimed our hero. "Doc Clancy shall not die that way. When he leaves this world, he shall die with a rope about his neck."

Quick as a flash he leveled his rifle at the lion and pulled the trigger.

Crack! As the report rang out on the still, morning air, the king of beasts rolled over upon the ground in the throes of death.

The bullet from Vincent's rifle struck the creature just behind the left fore-shoulder, entering the heart.

It all happened so quickly that none of the inhabitants of the wonderful city could make a move to stop the boy from killing the lion; and as soon as they saw what he had done, a hoarse cry of anger went up from their lips.

"You've played ther part of a fool, Van!" exclaimed Lank Edwards, with a look of disgust. "By saving the life of the murderer of your uncle, you have placed yer own in great danger."

"You are right," put in Poppet, who heard the words. "Young fellow, though you are my guest, I cannot be answerable for your safety."

"It matters not," returned Van. "That man murdered my uncle, and I have chased him too far to see him die before I have a written confession from him. And then, again, when he dies I want to see him do so with a rope around his neck."

It was wonderful to note the change that came over the face of Poppet when he heard the boy's words.

Turning to the excited crowd about the pit, he addressed them in the language of the city, telling them exactly what our hero had said.

This seemed to satisfy them, and the next moment the entire crowd were gazing at the plucky American boy with admiring eyes.

"Well," observed Poppet, at length, turning to our friends, "I am the master of all executions that take place, and overseer of prisoners as well. For the present I will have this man locked up, and to-night the city officers will decide upon what is to be done with him. It may be that they will approve of what you say; and if so, the confession you desire will be forced from him, after which he will be executed after the fashion of your country."

"What did he do that caused him to be thrown to the lion?" asked Joe, turning his large, dark eyes upon Poppet.

"He insulted the daughter of one of the best men in Utopia last night, and when a man does that here the penalty is that he shall be thrown into the lion's pit," was the reply.

Our friends were now conducted back to the house of their host, and here it was that they learned two things which had hitherto seemed rather queer to them.

The first was how it was that Doc Clancy had discovered the horses rigged up in such a curious fashion; and this was explained by Poppet as being a ruse practiced by his people to frighten their enemies who dwelt outside the wall. In this case the man who led the mounted dummies had been killed in some manner, and thus it was that Clancy and his associate had discovered the horses, who had returned to the gate in the huge wall.

The other thing which became plain to them was that of the iron gate opening and shutting without apparent cause, and we will explain it in Poppet's own words.

"Whenever the gate is opened it must be done by a person in the center of our little city," said he. "There are wires laid underground to the gate, and when admission is sought the person in charge of them becomes aware of it immediately, as a bell will ring twice in quick succession. A knob is touched and open comes the gate, and when the person or persons are through it shuts."

"It must be done by electricity," remarked our hero, in great surprise.

"That is exactly what it is done by," was the reply. "All the power used in the city is furnished by it."

Our friends were too much astonished to speak after they heard this.

But the city they had struck was indeed a wonderful one, and beyond this we will not say much of it, as we have not the space at our command, and, besides, it would be deviating from our story too much.

Shortly after noon, Poppet asked Van to take a trip with him to see the prisoner.

Of course, our hero was only too glad to avail himself of the opportunity, and the pair at once set out.

The distance to the place where Doc Clancy was confined was not great, and they soon arrived there.

It was the same place where the villain had been taken by those who captured him on his entrance to the house where the girl was.

The cowardly villain was seated upon the floor of the cell he was confined in, the picture of abject misery.

"How are you, Doc Clancy?" said Van, placing his face close to the bars in the heavy, iron door.

A hopeful expression came over Clancy's face, and he at once rose to his feet.

"Have you come to take me out of here?" he demanded, in an eager tone. "Who was it that shot the lion and saved my life?"

"In answer to your last question, I will say that it was I who killed the lion," was our hero's reply.

An expression of amazement came over Doc Clancy's face.

"You saved my life! You!--when I have tried to kill you so many times!"

"Yes, it was I, and I nearly got into serious trouble by doing it. Now, Doc Clancy, I want to ask you to do something for me."

"What is it? I will do anything you ask."

"I want a written confession from you that your murdered my uncle."

For a moment the wretched man made no reply. Then he looked up slowly until his eyes were on a level with those of our hero.

"I will give it to you," he said, at length. "Write as I dictate, and when you have finished I will sign it."

In a moment Van produced his notebook and pencil from his pocket.

The next fifteen minutes was spent in writing the man's words, and then, with a trembling hand, the wretch signed it, Poppet being a witness.

The confession implicated the lawyer who had charge of all the affairs of Van's murdered uncle, and the boy vowed inwardly that he should suffer for the part he had played in the crime if he ever got back to his home.

"There, now!" exclaimed Doc Clancy, when he had signed the paper and handed it to Van, "I suppose you will get me out of here now, and let me go about my business."

"He has nothing to say about a matter of that kind," said Poppet, coldly. "You have a serious charge against you for insulting the daughter of one of our prominent citizens and you must suffer the penalty of your rash act. Also, it is the law of the African Utopia that a man who is proven a murderer--whether the crime was committed here or in any other part of the world--must die. Your confession proves that you are a vile murderer, and therefore, you must die!"

"What!" screamed Doc Clancy, in a frantic voice. "Van, you will not allow this, will you?"

"Come away!" exclaimed Poppet, taking our hero by the arm. "Bandy no more words with the scoundrel."

As they turned away from the cell, Doc Clancy uttered a yell of terror and fell to the floor in a fit.