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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed744e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64407 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64407) diff --git a/old/64407-0.txt b/old/64407-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3711c10..0000000 --- a/old/64407-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13001 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash, by Burt L. -Standish - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash - Winning Above the Clouds - -Author: Burt L. Standish - -Release Date: January 28, 2021 [eBook #64407] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: David Edwards, Sue Clark, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICK MERRIWELL’S AËRO DASH *** - - - - -Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash - - - - -CONTENTS - - Chapter Page - - I. The Catastrophe 5 - - II. The Coward 12 - - III. A Scrap of Paper 25 - - IV. Stovebridge Finds an Ally 35 - - V. The Struggle in the Dark 54 - - VI. Dick Merriwell Wins 66 - - VII. The Brand of Fear 75 - - VIII. The Young Man in Trouble 83 - - IX. A Disgruntled Pitcher 89 - - X. In Dolan’s Café 106 - - XI. The Explosion 121 - - XII. The Game Begins 135 - - XIII. Against Heavy Odds 147 - - XIV. Three Men of Millions 159 - - XV. The Mysterious Mr. Randolph 173 - - XVI. The Mysterious House 183 - - XVII. In the Shadow of the Cliffs 195 - - XVIII. Bert Holton, Special Officer 209 - - XIX. The Race in the Clouds 222 - - XX. The Outlaws 235 - - XXI. Dick Merriwell’s Fist 247 - - XXII. All Arranged 254 - - XXIII. Chester Arlington’s Mother 260 - - XXIV. Two Indian Friends 267 - - XXV. The Man in the Next Room 277 - - XXVI. When Greek Meets Greek 282 - - XXVII. Shangowah’s Backers 290 - - XXVIII. Batted Out 295 - - XXIX. The Finish 303 - - - - - Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash - OR - WINNING ABOVE THE CLOUDS - - - By - BURT L. STANDISH - - Author of the famous Merriwell stories. - - [Illustration] - - - STREET & SMITH CORPORATION - PUBLISHERS - 79–89 Seventh Avenue, New York - - - - - Copyright, 1910 - By STREET & SMITH - - Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash - - - All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign - languages, including the Scandinavian. - - Printed in the U. S. A. - - - - -DICK MERRIWELL’S AËRO DASH. - -CHAPTER I. - -THE CATASTROPHE. - - -A glorious midsummer morning, clear, balmy and bracing. An ideal -stretch of macadam, level as a floor and straight as a die for close -onto two miles, with interminable fields of waving wheat on either -side. A new, high-power car in perfect running order. - -It was a temptation for speeding which few could resist, certainly not -Brose Stovebridge, who was little given to thinking of the consequences -when his own pleasure was concerned, and who had a reputation for -reckless driving which was exceeded by none. - -With a shout of joy, he snatched off his cap and flung it on the -seat beside him. The next instant he had opened the throttle wide -and advanced the spark to the last notch. The racing roadster leaped -forward like a thing alive and shot down the stretch--cut-out wide open -and pistons throbbing in perfect unison--a blurred streak of red amidst -a swirling cloud of dust. - -Stovebridge bent over the wheel, his eyes shining with excitement and -his curly, blond hair tossed by the cutting wind into a disordered mass -above his rather handsome face. The speedometer hand was close to the -fifty mark. - -“You’ll do, you beauty,” he muttered exultingly. “I could squeeze -another ten out of you, if I had the chance.” - -The horn shrieked a warning as he pulled her down to take the curve -ahead, but her momentum was so great that she shot around the wide -swerve almost on two wheels, with scarcely any perceptible slackening. - -The next instant Stovebridge gave a gasping cry of horror. - -Directly in the middle of the road stood a little girl. Her eyes were -wide and staring, and she seemed absolutely petrified with fright. - -The car swerved suddenly to one side, there was a grinding jar of the -emergency and the white, stricken face vanished. With a sickening jolt, -the roadster rolled on a short distance and stopped. - -For a second or two Stovebridge sat absolutely still, his hands -trembling, his face the color of chalk. Then he turned, as though with -a great effort, and looked back. - -The child lay silent, a crumpled, dust-covered heap. The white face -was stained with blood, one tiny hand still clutched a bunch of wild -flowers. - -The man in the car gave a shuddering groan. - -“I’ve killed her!” he gasped. “My God, I’ve killed her!” - -He would be arrested--convicted--imprisoned. At the thought every bit -of manhood left him and fear struck him to the soul. He knew that every -law, human or divine, bound him to pick up the child and hurry her -to a doctor, for there might still be a spark of life which could be -fanned into flame. But he was lost to all sense of humanity, decency, -or honor. Maddened by the fear of consequences, his one impulse was to -fly--fly quickly before he was discovered. - -In a panic he threw off the brakes, started the car and ran through his -gears into direct drive with frantic haste. The car leaped forward, -and, without a backward glance at the victim of his carelessness, -Stovebridge opened her up wide and disappeared down the road in a -cloud of dust. - -The child lay still where she had fallen. Slowly the dust settled and a -gentle breeze stirred the flaxen hair above her blood-stained face. - -Then came the throbbing of another motor approaching, a deep-toned horn -sounded, and a big, red touring car, containing four young fellows, -rounded the bend at a fair speed. - -Dick Merriwell, the famous Yale athlete, was at the wheel, and, -catching sight of the little heap in the roadway, he stopped the car -with a jerk and sprang out. - -As he ran forward and gathered the limp form into his arms, he gave an -exclamation of pity. Then his face darkened. - -“By heavens!” he cried. “I’d like to get my hands on the man who did -this. Poor little kid! Just look at her face, Brad.” - -As Brad Buckhart, Dick’s Texas chum, caught sight of the great gash -over the child’s temple, his eyes flashed and he clenched his fists. - -“The coyote!” he exploded. “He certain ought to have a hemp necktie put -around his neck with the other end over a limb. I’d sure like to have a -hold of that other end. You hear me talk!” - -Squeezing past the portly form of Bouncer Bigelow, Tommy Tucker leaned -excitedly out of the tonneau. - -“Is she dead, Dick?” he asked anxiously. - -Merriwell took his fingers from the small wrist he had been feeling. - -“Not quite,” he said shortly. “But it’s no thanks to the scoundrel who -ran her down and left her here.” - -His eyes, which had been looking keenly to right and left, lit up as -they fell upon the roof of a farm house nestling among some trees a -little way back from the road. - -“There’s a house, Brad,” he said in a relieved tone. “Even if she -doesn’t belong there, they’ll make her comfortable and send for a -doctor.” - -With infinite tenderness he carried the child down the road a little -way to a gate, and thence up a narrow walk bordered with lilac bushes. -The door of the farm house was open and, without hesitation, he walked -into the kitchen, where a woman stood ironing. - -“I found----” he began. - -The woman turned swiftly, and as she saw his burden, her face grew -ghastly white and her hands flew to her heart. - -“Amy!” she gasped in a choking voice. “Is--she----” - -“She’s not dead,” Dick reassured her, “but I’m afraid she’s badly hurt. -I picked her up in the road outside. Some one in a car had run over her -and left her there.” - -For an instant he thought the woman was going to faint. Then she pulled -herself together with a tremendous effort. - -“Give her to me!” she cried fiercely, her arms outstretched. “Give her -to me!” - -Her eyes were blinded with a sudden rush of tears. - -“Little Amy, that never did a bit o’ harm to nobody,” she sobbed. “Oh, -it’s too much!” - -“Careful, now,” Merriwell cautioned. “Take her gently. I’m afraid her -arm is broken.” - -“Would you teach a woman to be gentle to her child?” she cried wildly. - -Without waiting for a reply, she gathered the little form tenderly into -her arms and laid her down on a sofa which stood at one side of the -room. Then running to the sink for some water, she wet her handkerchief -and began to wipe off the child’s face. - -“You mustn’t mind what I said,” she faltered the next moment. “I didn’t -mean it. I’m just wild.” - -“I know,” Dick returned gently. “A doctor should be called at----” - -“Of course!” - -She sprang to her feet and flew into another room, whence Dick heard -the insistent ringing of a telephone bell, followed quickly by rapid, -broken sentences. As the handkerchief fell from her hand he had picked -it up and was sprinkling the child’s face with water. - -Presently the girl gave a little moan and opened her eyes. - -“Mamma,” she said faintly--“mamma!” - -The woman ran into the room at the sound. - -“Here I am, darling,” she said, as she knelt down by the couch. “Where -do you feel bad, Amy dear?” - -“My arm,” the child moaned, “and my head. A big red car runned right -over me.” - -“Red!” muttered Merriwell, his eyes brightening. - -“My precious!” soothed the mother. “The doctor’ll be here right off. -Does it hurt much?” - -The child closed her eyes and slow tears welled from under the lashes. - -“Yes,” she sobbed, “awful.” - -Dick ground his teeth. - -“It’s a crime for such men to be allowed on the road,” he said in a -low, tense tone. “I’m going to do my level best to run down whoever was -responsible for this, and if I do, they’ll suffer the maximum penalty.” - -“I hope you do,” the woman declared fiercely. “Hanging’s too good for -’em! My husband, George Hanlon, ain’t the man to sit still an’ do -nothing, neither.” - -“They--wasn’t--men,” sobbed the child. “Only one.” - -“One man in a red car of some sort,” Dick murmured thoughtfully. “He -must belong around here; a fellow wouldn’t be touring alone.” - -Then he turned to Mrs. Hanlon. - -“I think I’ll be getting on,” he said quickly. “I can’t do anything -here, and the longer I delay the less chance there’ll be of catching -this fellow. I’ll call you up to-night and find out how the little girl -is doing.” - -“God bless you for what you’ve done,” the woman said brokenly. - -“I wish it might have been more,” Dick answered as he walked quickly -toward the door. “Good-by.” - -As he hurried out he almost ran into a slim young fellow, who was -running up the walk. He was bare-headed, and his long black hair -straggled down over a pair of fierce black eyes that had a touch of -wildness in them. - -Catching sight of Dick he glared at the Yale man, and hesitated for an -instant as if he meant to stop him. Then, with a curious motion of his -hands, he brushed past Merriwell and disappeared into the house. - -“I’ve found a clue, pard,” Buckhart announced triumphantly, as Dick -reached the car. - -“What is it?” - -The Texan held up a cloth cap. - -“Picked it up by the side of the road,” he explained. “Find the owner -of that and you’ll sure have the onery varmit who did this trick. You -hear me gently warble!” - -Dick took it in his hand and turned it over. The stuff was a small -black and white check and was lined with gray satin. Stamped in the -middle of the lining was the name of the dealer who had sold it: - - “Jennings, Haberdasher, - Wilton.” - -Wilton was a good-sized town they had passed through about four miles -back. - -“I thought he belonged around here,” Merriwell said as he rolled up the -cap and stuffed it into his pocket. “Look out for a fellow without a -hat, alone, in a red car of some sort, Brad. That’s all we’ve got to go -by at present, but I shouldn’t wonder if it would be enough.” - -He stepped into the car and started the engine, Brad sprang up beside -him and they were off. - -They had not gone a hundred feet when the black haired youth rushed out -of the gate to the middle of the road. His eyes flashed fire, and as he -saw the car moving rapidly away from him his mouth moved and twisted -convulsively as if he wanted to shout, but could not. - -Then, as the touring car disappeared around a turn in the road, he -clenched one fist and shook it fiercely in that direction. The next -moment he was following it as hard as he could run. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -THE COWARD. - - -With pallid face and nervous, twitching fingers, which his desperate -grip on the wheel scarcely served to hide, Brose Stovebridge flew along -the high road between Wilton and the Clover Country Club. - -Now and then he looked back fearfully; at every crossroad his eyes -darted keenly to right and left, as he let out the car to the very -highest speed he dared, hoping and praying that he might reach his goal -without encountering any one. - -All the time fear--deadly, unreasoning, ignoble fear--was tugging at -his heart-strings. - -He had gone through just such an experience as this little more than -a year ago in Kansas City. How vividly it all came back to him! The -unexpected meeting with two old school chums whom he had not seen -in months; their hilarious progress of celebration from one café to -another, which ended, long past midnight, in that wild joy ride through -the silent, deserted streets. - -He shuddered. He thought he had succeeded in thrusting from his mind -the details of it all: The sudden skidding around a corner on two -wheels; the man’s face that flashed before them in the electric light, -dazed--white--terrified. The thud--the fall--the sickening jolt, as -the wheels went over him. Then that wild, unreasoning, terror-stricken -impulse to fly, to escape the consequences at any cost, which possessed -him. He gave no thought to his unconscious victim. He only wanted to -get away before any one came, and somehow he had done so. - -A few days later, in the safe seclusion of his home near Wilton, when -he read that the fellow had succumbed to his injuries in the Kansas -City hospital, his first thought was one of self-congratulation at his -own cleverness in eluding pursuit. - -His two chums he had never seen since that morning. Only a few weeks -ago one of them had declined an invitation to visit him. He wondered -why. - -Once in his prep school days, when the dormitory caught fire, he had -stumbled blindly down the fire escape and left his roommate sleeping -heavily. Luckily the boy was roused in time; but it was no thanks to -Brose that he escaped with his life. - -For Stovebridge was a coward. In spite of his handsome face and dashing -manner; in spite of his popularity, his athletic prowess, his many -friends--in spite of all, he was a moral coward. - -Few suspected it and still fewer knew, for the fellow was constantly on -his guard and clever at hiding this unpleasant trait. But it was there -just the same, ready to leap forth in a twinkling, as it had done this -morning, and stamp his face with the brand of fear. - -As the great, granite gateposts of the club appeared in sight, -Stovebridge breathed a sigh of relief. By some extraordinary luck he -had encountered no one on his wild ride thither. He had passed several -crossroads, any one of which he was prepared to swear he had come by, -and for the present he was safe. - -Slowing down, he turned into the drive, and as he did so he took out -a handkerchief and passed it over his moist forehead. He must compose -himself before encountering any of his fellow members. - -He carefully smoothed his ruffled hair with slim, brown fingers, and -reached over for his cap. - -The seat was empty. The cap had disappeared. - -The discovery was like a physical blow, and for an instant his heart -stood still. - -Where had he lost it? - -The spot where he had run down the child was the only feasible one. The -cap must have fallen out when he put on the emergency, and probably lay -in plain sight, a clue for the first passerby to pick up. - -For a moment he had a wild idea of going back for it, but he thrust -this from him instantly. It was impossible. - -Then the clubhouse came in sight. He must pull himself together at -once; he would get something to steady his nerves before he met any one. - -Instead of continuing on to the front of the clubhouse, where a crowd -was congregated on the wide veranda, he turned sharply to the right and -drove his car into one of the open sheds back of the kitchen. Then he -dived through a side door into the buffet. - -“Whisky, Joe,” he said nervously to the attendant. - -A bottle, glass and siphon were placed before him, and even the -taciturn Joe was somewhat astonished at the size of the drink which -Stovebridge poured with shaking hand and drained at a swallow. - -He followed it with a little seltzer and, pouring out another three -fingers, sat back in his chair and took out a gold cigarette case. - -As he selected a cigarette with some care, and held it to the cigar -lighter on the table, he noticed with satisfaction that his fingers -scarcely trembled at all. - -“That’s the stuff to steady a fellow’s nerves,” he muttered, blowing -out a cloud of blue smoke. “There’s nothing like it.” - -He took a swallow and then drained the glass for the second time. - -Presently his view of life became slightly more optimistic. - -“It was a new cap,” he remembered with a sudden feeling of relief. - -“I’ve never worn it here, and there’s an old one in my locker. All -I’ve got to do is to swear I never saw it before if I’m asked about -it--which isn’t likely.” - -When the cigarette was finished he went into the dressing room and took -a thorough wash. There was no one there but the valet, who gave his -clothes a good brushing, so he had no trouble in getting the old cap -out of his locker and placing it at a becoming angle on his freshly -brushed hair. Then he strolled out onto the veranda. - -Three or four fellows, lounging near the door, greeted him jovially as -he appeared. - -“Rather late, aren’t you, Brose?” one of them remarked, as he joined -them. - -“A little,” Stovebridge returned nonchalantly. “It was such a bully -morning I took a spin along the river road.” - -“Alone?” the other asked slyly. - -Stovebridge laughed. - -“Well, I happened to be--this time,” he answered, a little -self-consciously. - -Being very much of a lady’s man, it was rare for him to be -unaccompanied. - -“How I do love a hog!” drawled one of the fellows who had not spoken. -“Why the deuce didn’t you ’phone me? I’ve been sitting here bored to -death for two solid hours.” - -Stovebridge was looking curiously at a big, red touring car which had -just driven up to the entrance. - -“Er--I beg pardon, Marston,” he stammered. “What did you say?” - -“Really not worth repeating,” returned the other languidly. “You seem -to have something on your mind, Brose.” - -Stovebridge gave a slight start as he turned back to his friends. - -“I was wondering who those fellows are that just drove up,” he said -carelessly. “They’re talking to old Clingwood.” - -Fred Marston turned with an effort and surveyed the newcomers. - -“Don’t know, I’m sure,” he drawled sinking back in his chair. “Never -saw them before.” - -For some reason the strangers seemed to interest Stovebridge extremely, -and he continued to watch them furtively. There were four of them. The -one who had driven the car, and with whom Roger Clingwood was doing the -most talking, was tall and handsome, with dark hair and eyes, and the -figure of an athlete. The fellow who stood near him was good-looking, -too, and much more heavily built. Behind them, a short, wiry youth was -talking to a tremendously stout fellow with a fat, good-humored face. - -Presently Stovebridge left his friends and wandered along the veranda, -pausing now and then to exchange a remark with some acquaintance, and -before long he had reached the vicinity of the strangers, where he -leaned carelessly against a pillar and looked out across the golf links. - -“Very glad you could get here this morning, Merriwell,” Roger -Clingwood, an old Yale graduate was saying. “You’ll be able to look -around a bit before the race this afternoon.” - -“Merriwell!” exclaimed Stovebridge under his breath. “I wonder if that -can be Dick Merriwell, of Yale.” - -Suddenly a hand struck him on the shoulder and a voice exclaimed -heartily: - -“Hello, Brose, old boy! Wearing your old brown cap, I see. What’s the -matter with the one you got at the governor’s shop yesterday?” - -Stovebridge wheeled around with a sudden tightening of his throat -and saw the grinning face of Bob Jennings, son of the haberdasher at -Wilton, who had been in the store when he bought that wretched cap the -day before. Here was the first complication. - -Stovebridge forced himself to smile. - -“Left it at home, Bob,” he returned carelessly. “This was the first one -I picked up as I came out this morning.” - -In the pause which followed Roger Clingwood stepped forward. - -“I didn’t notice you were here, Stovebridge,” he said pleasantly. “I’d -like you to meet my friend Merriwell, who has come up with some of his -classmates to spend a day or two at the club.” - -“Delighted, I’m sure,” Stovebridge said with an air of good fellowship. -“I know Mr. Merriwell very well by reputation, but have never had the -pleasure of meeting him.” - -“Dick, this is Brose Stovebridge,” Clingwood went on. “We claim for -him--and I think justly--the title of champion sprinter of the middle -West.” - -Merriwell smiled as he held out his hand. - -“Very glad indeed to meet you, Mr. Stovebridge,” he said heartily. - -Stovebridge gave a sudden gasp and faltered; then he took the proffered -hand limply. - -“Glad to meet you,” he said hoarsely. - -Instead of meeting Merriwell’s glance, his eyes were fixed intently on -the corner of a checked cap which protruded from the Yale man’s pocket. - -It was the cap he had lost out of the car that morning, or one exactly -like it. Apparently it did not belong to Merriwell, who held his own in -his left hand. Where had he picked it up? Where could he have found it -but in that fatal spot? Stovebridge’s brain reeled and he felt a little -faint. Then he realized that Clingwood was speaking to him--introducing -the other Yale men--and with a tremendous effort he forced himself to -turn and greet them with apparent calmness. - -For a time there was a confused medley of talk and laughter as some -of the other members strolled up and were presented to the strangers. -Stovebridge was very thankful for the chance it gave him to pull -himself together and hide his emotion. - -Presently there was a momentary lull and Dick pulled the cap out of his -pocket. - -“Does this belong to any of your fellows?” he asked carelessly. “We -picked it up in the road this morning.” - -Bob Jennings pounced on it. - -“Why, that looks like yours, Brose,” he said as he turned it over. - -Stovebridge glanced at it indifferently. He had himself well in hand -now. - -“Rather like,” he drawled; “but mine is a little larger check; besides, -I didn’t wear it this morning, you know.” - -“I could have sworn that you bought one exactly like this,” Jennings -said in a puzzled tone. - -Stovebridge laughed. - -“I wouldn’t advise you to put any money on it, Bob, because you’d -lose,” he said lightly. “I’ll wear mine to-morrow, and you’ll see the -difference.” - -“Where did you find it, Dick?” Roger Clingwood asked. - -Merriwell paused and glanced quietly around the circle of men. Most of -them looked indifferent, as though they had very little interest in the -cap or its unknown owner. - -“It was picked up in the road about four miles this side of Wilton,” -he said in a low, clear voice. “It lay near the body of a little girl -who had been run over by some car and left there to die.” - -There was a sudden, surprised hush, and then a perfect volley of -questions were flung at the Yale man. - -“Where was it?” - -“Who was she?” - -“Didn’t any one see it done?” - -“Is she dead?” - -The expression of languid indifference vanished from their faces with -the rapidity and completeness of chalk under a wet sponge. Their eyes -were full of eager interest, and, as soon as the clamor was quelled, -Dick told the story with a brief eloquence which made more than one man -curse fiercely and blink his eyes. - -Once or twice the Yale man darted a keen glance at Stovebridge, but -the latter had turned away so that only a small portion of his face -was visible. He seemed to be one of the few to remain unmoved by the -recital. - -Another was his friend Fred Marston, a man of about thirty, with thin, -dark hair plastered over a low forehead, sensuous lips, and that -unwholesome flabbiness of figure which is always a sign of a life -devoted wholly to ease. - -As Dick finished the story, he shrugged his shoulders. - -“Very likely she ran out in front of the car, and was bowled over -before the fellow had time to stop,” he drawled. “Children are always -doing things like that. Sometimes I believe they do it on purpose.” - -Merriwell looked at him fixedly. - -“That’s quite possible,” he said quietly, but with a certain -challenging note in his voice. “But no one but a coward--a contemptible -coward--would have run off and left her there.” - -Marston flushed a little and started to reply, but before he could -utter a word, a number of the club members began to voice their -opinions, and for a time the talk ran fast and furious. - -Merriwell noticed that Stovebridge took no part in it. He stood leaning -against a pillar, his hands in his pockets, apparently absorbed in -watching a putting match which was going on at a green just across the -drive. - -Presently the Yale man strolled over to his side. - -“Nice links you have here,” he commented. - -Stovebridge nodded silently without taking his eyes from the players. - -“You have a car, haven’t you,” Dick went on casually. - -The other’s shoulders moved a little. - -“Yes,” he answered. “Racing roadster--sixty horse-power.” - -There was a curious glitter in Dick Merriwell’s dark eyes. - -“Dark red, isn’t she?” he queried. - -Stovebridge hesitated for an instant. - -“Ye-s.” - -The players had finished their game and were coming slowly toward -the clubhouse, but Stovebridge’s eyes never left the vivid patch of -close-cropped turf. - -He was afraid to look up, afraid to meet the glance of the man beside -him. He dreaded the sound of the other’s low, clear voice. Why was he -asking these questions? Why, indeed, unless he suspected? - -“You didn’t happen to run over the main road from Wilton this morning, -I suppose?” - -The guilty man could not suppress a slight start. It had come, then. -Merriwell did suspect him. His tongue clove to the roof of his mouth -and for a moment he was speechless. He moistened his dry lips. - -“No,” he said hoarsely. “I came--by the river road.” - -What was the matter with him? That did not sound like his voice. It -was not the way an innocent man would have answered an unmistakable -innuendo. If he did not pull himself together instantly he would be -lost. - -The next moment he turned on the Yale man. - -“Why do you ask that?” he said almost fiercely. “What do you mean by -such a question?” - -His face was calm, though a little pale. His long lashes drooped -purposely over the blue eyes to hide the fear which filled them. - -Merriwell looked at him keenly. - -“I thought perhaps we could fix the time of the accident, if you had -gone over the road before me,” he said quietly. “But I see we cannot.” - -He turned away, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, and joined the -others. - -Brose Stovebridge gave a shiver as he saw him go. He had the desperate -feeling of going to pieces; unless he could steady his nerves he felt -that in a very few minutes he would give himself away. - -Without a word to any one, he slipped through the big reception hall -of the clubhouse and thence to the buffet. Here he tossed off another -drink and then hurried out the side door. - -The attendant looked after him with a shake of his head. - -“He’s got something on his mind, he has,” he muttered. “Never knew him -to take so much of a morning--and the very day he’s going to run, too.” - -Stovebridge walked over to the automobile sheds. He was not likely to -be disturbed there, and if some one did come around he could pretend to -be fussing with his car. - -He scarcely noticed Merriwell’s touring car, which had been put into -the shed next to his own. At another time he would have examined it -with interest, for he was a regular motor fiend. But now he passed it -with a glance, and going up to his own car, lifted up the hood and -leaned over the cylinders. - -He had not been there more than a minute or two when he felt a hand -grasp his shoulder firmly. - -With a snarl of terror, he straightened up and whirled around. - -He had expected to find Merriwell, come to accuse him. Instead, he -saw before him Jim Hanlon, a deaf mute, who occasionally did odd jobs -around the club. The fellow’s face was distorted with rage, his eyes -flashed fire, his slight frame fairly quivered with emotion. - -Stovebridge stepped back instinctively. - -“What’s the matter with you?” he asked harshly. “What are you doing -here?” - -As the clubman spoke the deaf mute’s eyes were fixed upon his lips. -Evidently he understood what the other said, for his own mouth writhed -and twisted in his desperate, futile efforts to give voice to his -emotion. - -The next instant he snatched a scrap of soiled brown paper from his -pocket and produced the stub of a pencil. - -Stovebridge watched him with a vague uneasiness as he scrawled a few -words and then thrust the paper into the clubman’s hand. - -“Somebudy run over Amy an kill her.” - -As he deciphered the illiterate sentence, Stovebridge shivered. Until -that moment he had forgotten that this fellow was the child’s brother. -What was he about to do? He looked as though he were capable of -anything. Above all, how much did he know? - -Looking up, Brose met the fellow’s eyes fixed fiercely on his own. He -shivered again. - -“Yes,” he said, with an effort at calmness. “I heard about it. It’s too -bad.” - -As the words left his lips he realized their utter inadequacy. - -With a scowl, Hanlon snatched the paper from his hands and wrote again. - -“I’ll kill the man that did it--kill him!” - -The word kill was heavily underlined in a pitiful attempt at emphasis. - -As Stovebridge read the short line he felt a cold chill going down his -back. He had not the slightest doubt that the fellow meant what he had -written. But how had he found out? Who had told him? Was it possible -that he could have witnessed the accident from some place out of sight? - -He shot another glance at Hanlon and met the same malignant glare of -hate. The fellow looked positively murderous. - -The next moment the deaf mute had pulled a long, keen knife out of his -pocket, which he held up before Stovebridge’s terror-stricken eyes and -shook it significantly. At the same time he nodded his head fiercely. - -Brose gave a low gasp as he gazed at the wicked blade with fascinated -horror. Why had he ever come out here alone and given the fellow this -chance? Why hadn’t he stayed with the others? No matter what else -might have happened, he would have been safe. Arrest, conviction, -disgrace--anything would have been better than this. - -Overcome by a momentary faintness, he closed his eyes. - -Suddenly the paper was twitched from his fingers, and, with a -frightened gasp, he looked up. - -The knife had disappeared and Hanlon was writing, again. - -Desperately, as a drowning man clutches a straw, Stovebridge snatched -at the paper. - -“What’s the name of the feller that came with three others in that car.” - -Puzzled, the clubman looked at Hanlon and found him pointing at Dick -Merriwell’s touring car. What did he mean? What could he want with -Merriwell? Was it possible that he did not really know--that he wanted -to get proof from the Yale man before proceeding with his murderous -attack? - -“Why do you want to know?” he faltered. - -The other seized the paper from the man’s trembling fingers, wrote -three words and thrust it back. - -“He killed Amy.” - -As Stovebridge read the short sentence, he could have shouted with -joy. Hanlon did not know the truth, after all. For some unaccountable -reason he suspected Merriwell. Perhaps it was because the Yale man had -carried the child into the house; anyhow it did not matter, so long as -he himself was safe. - -Then another thought flashed into his mind. The fellow suspected -Merriwell--not only suspected, but was convinced. He would try to kill -the Yale man, and perhaps succeed. Well, what of that? With Merriwell -out of the way Stovebridge would be safe--quite safe. No one else had -the slightest suspicion. - -He took the pencil out of the deaf mute’s hand, and, after a moment’s -hesitation wrote, on the bottom of the paper: - -“His name is Dick Merriwell.” - -Somehow, as he handed the paper to the wild-eyed youth, he had the odd -feeling that he had signed a death warrant. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -A SCRAP OF PAPER. - - -The Clover Country Club had acquired a wider reputation than is usual -with an organization of that description. - -Intended originally as a simple athletic club, with out-of-door sports -and games the special features, it had one of the finest golf links -in the Middle West. Its tennis courts were unsurpassed, its running -track unrivaled. There was a well-laid-out diamond which had been the -scene of many a hot game of baseball, and which was used in the fall -for football. Indoors were bowling alleys, billiard, and pool tables, a -beautiful swimming tank in a well-equipped gymnasium. - -But in the course of time other and less desirable features had been -added. The younger set had developed into a rather fast, sporting -crowd, and, slowly increasing in numbers and in power, they gradually -crowded the old conservatives to the wall, until finally they -controlled the management. - -To-day the club was better known for the completeness of its buffet, -than for the gymnasium; and it was a well-known fact that frequently -more money changed hands in the so-called private card room in a single -night than in the old days had been won or lost on sporting bets in the -course of an entire season. - -In spite of all this, however, out-of-door sports were still a feature, -and now and then, when some especially well-known athletes were at the -club, matches and contests of various kinds were arranged. - -That very afternoon a mile race had been planned between Stovebridge -and Charlie Layton--a Columbia graduate reported to have beaten -everything in his class from Chicago to Omaha--who was coming on from -the latter city especially for the occasion. - -Fred Marston and others of his ilk usually did a great deal of sneering -at such affairs, calling them farcical relics of barbarism, and made -it plain that they only attended for the excitement of betting on the -result; but this made little difference in the general enthusiasm. - -For a time after the departure of Stovebridge the discussion of -Merriwell’s story continued with some warmth, and many were the -speculations as to the identity of the brute who had run over the child -and left her there. But even that topic could not hold the interest -of such a crowd of men for very long, and presently they began to -disperse, some seeking the card room, others the buffet, while the -remainder found comfortable seats on the veranda to put in the hour -before luncheon in indolent lounging and small talk. - -Roger Clingwood hesitated an instant before the wide doors of the -reception hall. - -“It’s too late for golf or tennis,” he said regretfully. “Is there -anything else you would like to do before lunch? Er--cards, perhaps, -or----” - -He was one of the older members who had fought vigorously, but in vain, -against the introduction of gambling in the club; but his innate sense -of hospitality made him suggest the only form of amusement possible in -the short time. - -Dick smiled. - -“Not for me, thank you,” he said quickly. “It always seems a waste of -time to sit around a table in a stuffy room when you might be doing -something interesting outside.” - -Clingwood’s face brightened. - -“I’m glad of that,” he said warmly. “I enjoy a good rubber as well as -the next man, but I don’t like the kind of play that goes on here. How -do your friends feel about it?” - -He looked inquiringly at the others. - -“Nix,” Buckhart said decidedly. “Not for me.” - -Tucker and Bigelow both shook their heads. - -“I used to flip the pasteboards in my younger days,” the former -grinned; “but I’ve reformed.” - -“Why not just sit here and do nothing?” Merriwell asked. “I feel that -I’d enjoy an hour’s loaf.” - -Bigelow evidently agreed with him, for he sank instantly into one of -the wicker chairs, with a sigh of thankfulness. - -The others followed his example, and their host took out a well-filled -cigar case and passed it around. Tucker accepted one; the others -declined. - -“Layton ought to show up soon,” Clingwood remarked, settling back in -his chair and blowing out a cloud of smoke. “I believe he’s due in -Wilton at eleven forty-seven.” - -“Layton?” Dick exclaimed interestedly. “Not Charlie Layton, the -Columbia man?” - -“That’s the boy. Know him?” - -“I’ve met him. He’s one of the best milers in the country. Stovebridge -must be pretty good to run against him.” - -“He is,” returned the older man. “He trains with a crowd that I’m not -at all in sympathy with, but, for all that, he’s not a bad fellow; -crackerjack tennis player, and has a splendid record for long distance -running. He keeps himself in fair training and doesn’t lush as much as -most of his friends do.” - -“I see,” Dick said thoughtfully. - -This did not sound at all like a fellow who would run down a child and -never stop to see how badly she was hurt. As a rule, good athletes are -not cowards, though he had known exceptions. - -At the same time, Stovebridge’s actions had been suspicious. Dick had -not failed to notice his consternation at the sight of the cap, though -he had quickly recovered himself and his explanation had been plausible -enough. - -Later, during Merriwell’s conversation with him, the fellow’s agitation -had been palpable. That he was laboring under a tremendous mental -strain, the Yale man was certain. Of course, the cause of it might have -been something quite different, but to Dick it looked very much as -though Brose Stovebridge knew a good deal more about the accident than -would appear. - -And he had come to the club that morning alone in a red car! - -All at once Dick became conscious that some one had paused on the drive -quite close to the veranda and was looking at him. - -As he raised his head quickly, he saw that it was the same dark-haired, -sullen youth he had passed as he came out of the farmhouse that morning. - -To Dick’s astonishment the fellow’s eyes were fixed on him with a -look of fierce, malignant hatred which was unmistakable. His fingers -twitched convulsively and his whole attitude was one of consuming rage. - -As Merriwell looked up, the other seemed to control himself with an -effort, and, turning his head away, slouched on along the drive. - -“What’s the matter with him I wonder?” the Yale man mused. “He looks as -if he could eat me up with the greatest pleasure in life. I wonder who -he is?” - -He turned to Roger Clingwood, who was talking with Buckhart and Tucker. - -“Who is that fellow that just passed, Mr. Clingwood?” he asked, when -there was a lull in the conversation. “Did you notice him?” - -“Yes, I saw him. That’s Jim Hanlon; he occasionally does odd jobs about -the grounds.” - -“Hanlon!” Dick exclaimed. “Any relation to the little girl?” - -“Yes, her brother.” - -“Oh, I see.” - -Dick hesitated. - -“Is he--all there?” he asked after a moment’s pause. - -Roger Clingwood looked rather surprised. - -“Yes, so far as I know. He’s deaf and dumb, you see, and has the -reputation of being rather hot tempered at times; but I never heard -that he didn’t have all his faculties. Poor fellow! It’s enough to -drive any one dotty to have to do all one’s talking with pencil and -paper. I’m not surprised that he loses his temper now and then.” - -“I should say not,” Tucker put in. “Just imagine getting into an -argument and having to write it all out. I’d lay down and cough up the -ghost.” - -“I opine you’d blow up and bust, Tommy,” Buckhart grinned. “Or else the -hot air would strike in and smother you.” - -“You’re envious of my wit and persiflage,” declared Tucker. “I’d be -ashamed to show such a disposition as that, if I were you.” - -“When you’re talking with Hanlon, do you also have to take to pencil -and paper?” Dick asked interestedly. - -“Oh, no,” Clingwood answered. “He knows what you’re saying by watching -your lips. He’s amazingly good at it, too; I’ve never seen him stumped.” - -At that moment Stovebridge strolled out of the clubhouse and stopped -beside Clingwood’s chair. - -“Any signs of Layton yet?” he drawled. - -“Haven’t seen him,” the other man answered. “He’s had hardly time to -get here from Wilton, has he?” - -“Plenty, if he came on the eleven forty-seven. Sartoris went over with -his car to meet him. I hope he’s not going to disappoint us.” - -He turned away and walked slowly down the veranda toward Marston -lounging in a corner. - -As Dick followed him with his eyes, there was a slightly puzzled look -in them. - -Stovebridge was so cool and self-possessed, so utterly different from -the man who had shown such agitation barely half an hour before, that -for an instant Merriwell was staggered. - -“Either I’m wrong and he’s innocent,” he thought to himself, “or he has -the most amazing self-control. There isn’t a hint in his manner that -the fellow has a trouble in the world.” - -Then the Yale man’s intuitive good sense reasserted itself. - -“He’s bluffing,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll stake my -reputation that, for all his pretended indifference, Brose Stovebridge -is either the guilty man, or he knows who is. And I rather think he’s -the one himself.” - -Roger Clingwood pulled out his watch. - -“Well, boys, it’s about time for lunch,” he remarked. “Suppose I take -you up to your rooms and, after you’ve brushed up a bit, we’ll go in -and have a bite to eat.” - -“I’ll get the bags out of the car and be with you in a minute,” Dick -said as they stood up. - -“Wait, I’ll ring for a man to take them up,” proposed Clingwood. - -“Don’t bother,” Dick said quickly. “They’re very light, and Brad and I -can easily carry them. Besides, I’d like to see just where they’ve put -the car so that I’ll know where to go if I want to take her out.” - -“Well, have your own way,” smiled the other. “The garage is around at -the back. Follow the drive and you can’t miss it.” - -Leaving Tucker and Bigelow with their host, the two chums followed the -latter’s directions and had no difficulty in locating the automobile -sheds. - -Merriwell was glad of the opportunity, for he wanted very much to have -a look at Stovebridge’s car. In fact, that was his principal reason for -coming out instead of having the bags sent for. - -There were a dozen machines in the sheds, of all sizes and makes, but -only two runabouts. One was a small electric, and the other--standing -in the compartment next to Dick’s car, the _Wizard_--was a new, -high-power roadster, painted a dark red. - -“That’s the one, I reckon,” he said aloud, as they surveyed it. - -The Texan’s eyes crinkled. - -“I opine it is, pard, if you say so,” he grinned. “Might a thick, onery -cow-puncher ask, what one?” - -“Stovebridge’s car,” Merriwell explained briefly. - -The Westerner gave a low whistle. - -“Oh, ho! A red runabout,” he murmured. “So you think he’s the gent -we’re after?” - -As Dick stepped in to examine the car more closely, his eyes fell upon -a scrap of paper which lay on the ground close by one of the forward -wheels. Picking it up, he saw that it was a torn piece of common brown -wrapping paper, very much mussed and dirty. He was about to toss it -aside when he happened to turn it over. The next instant his eyes -widened with surprise. - -“What the mischief is this, I wonder?” he said in a low tone. - -Buckhart stepped forward and looked at it over the other’s shoulder. - -“‘His name is Dick Merriwell’,” he read slowly. “Who’s been taking your -name in vain, partner?” - -Dick made no reply. He was busy trying to decipher the illiterate -scrawl which preceded the one legible sentence the Texan had read. -Slowly, word by word, he made it out. - -“Somebody--run over--Amy--and--kill her,” he read at last. - -“Amy--who is Amy?” he mused. “Why, that’s the little girl we picked up -this morning--Amy Hanlon.” - -He looked at the paper again, and then, like a ray of light, the -solution flashed into his brain. - -“Why, that dumb fellow--her brother--must have written this!” he -exclaimed. “Clingwood said he had to do his talking on paper. But what -on earth is my name here for? Wait a minute.” - -His eyes went back to the scrap of paper, and for a few minutes there -was silence. When he looked up at Buckhart, his face was set and his -eyes stern. - -“Listen, Brad,” he said rapidly. “On this paper there are four -questions and one answer. The questions were written by an illiterate -person; the answer--was not. It is evidently part of a conversation -between this dumb fellow and some one else. Hanlon first informs this -person that his sister had been run over and killed. How he got the -idea I don’t know, unless she had fainted when he went into the room, -and he did not wait long enough to find out the truth. Then he proceeds -to inform whoever he is talking with that he will kill the man who ran -the child down. Then he writes: ‘What’s the name of the fellow that -came, with three others, in that car?’ Do you make any sense out of -that, Brad?” - -The Texan shook his head. - -“I sure don’t,” he said decidedly. - -“Well, I don’t know as I blame you,” Merriwell returned. “The next -sentence is apparently the answer to a question by the other man. It -is: ‘He killed Amy.’ Meaning that the man in a car with three others -ran over his sister, which, of course, we know isn’t so. There was only -one, according to her statement. Then follows the line in another hand -which you read: ‘His name is Dick Merriwell.’ Don’t you see now, Brad?” - -“Afraid I’m awful thick----” - -“Why, it’s clear as day,” Merriwell interrupted. “This Hanlon has -somehow got the idea that I ran over the little girl. He doesn’t know -my name and proceeds to ask this unknown person what it is, giving -at the same time the reason why he wants to know. He gets the answer -without a word of denial or explanation, and goes away with the firm -belief that I am a murderer. That accounts for the look he gave me when -he passed the veranda a little while ago.” - -“The miserable snake!” exploded the irate Westerner. “Wait till I put -my blinkers on him!” - -“He isn’t to blame,” Dick asserted quickly. “He thinks he’s right. It’s -the other man I’d like to get my hands on--the fellow that let him go -on believing a lie.” - -He paused and looked significantly at Buckhart. - -“Who is the man most interested in shifting the blame to my shoulders?” -he asked in a hard voice. “Whom have we suspected? Under whose car did -I pick up this paper?” - -“Stovebridge!” - -The word came in a smothered roar from the lips of the irate Texan, -and, turning swiftly, he started toward the clubhouse, his face -flushed with rage and his eyes flashing. - -“Stop! Come back, Brad,” Dick called. “You must not do anything now. We -have no real proof; he would deny everything.” - -Buckhart hesitated and then came slowly back to the shed. Dick went -over to his own car and pulled out a couple of bags from the tonneau. - -“Don’t worry, you untamed Maverick of the Pecos,” he said with a half -smile. “We’ll get him right before very long.” - -He folded the paper and put it carefully away in his breast pocket. - -“I’ve got this, for one thing,” he went on, “and I also have an idea in -my head which I think will come to something.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -STOVEBRIDGE FINDS AN ALLY. - - -Brose Stovebridge dropped down in a chair beside his friend Marston and -pulled out his cigarette case. - -“Have one?” he invited, extending it to the other. - -Marston selected a cigarette languidly. - -“How did this fellow Merriwell happen to honor the club with his -presence to-day?” he inquired sarcastically. - -Stovebridge struck a match and held it to the other’s cigarette; then, -lighting his own, he sank back in the chair. - -“He’s Clingwood’s friend, I believe,” he answered with apparent -indifference. “You speak as though you didn’t like him.” - -“I don’t,” snapped Marston. “I hate him--hate the whole brood.” - -The blond fellow raised his eyebrows. - -“I didn’t know you’d ever met him,” he commented. “You certainly didn’t -greet him as though you had ever laid eyes on him before.” - -“I haven’t,” the other said bitterly. “I know his brother--that’s -enough.” - -“His brother?” queried Stovebridge. - -“Yes, Frank Merriwell. I ran up against him at Yale, and of all the -straight-laced freaks he took the cake--wouldn’t drink, wouldn’t smoke; -wouldn’t play poker, wouldn’t do anything but bone, and go in for -athletics.” - -“Humph!” remarked Stovebridge cynically. “I don’t wonder you didn’t -like him. He wasn’t in your class at all. But if he was as good an -athlete as his brother, he must have been some pumpkins. I don’t just -see, though, how that accounts for your violent antipathy. Why didn’t -you let him go on his benighted way and have nothing to do with him?” - -Marston’s heavy brows contracted in a scowl. - -“You don’t suppose I cared a hang what he did, do you?” he snarled. -“That didn’t worry me any, but he had to get meddlesome and butt into -my affairs. Got my best friend so crazy about him that he went and gave -up cards and all that, and trained with Merriwell’s crowd. Of course, -he was no use to me after that. Do you wonder that I dislike Frank -Merriwell, and his brother as well?” - -Stovebridge hesitated. - -“Don’t know as I do?” he said in a preoccupied manner. - -He had been thinking of something else. - -They smoked for a few minutes in silence. Once or twice Marston glanced -curiously at his friend, who was scowling at the floor. - -“What’s the matter with you to-day, Brose?” he asked presently. “You -act like you had something on your mind.” - -The other looked up with a sudden start. - -“Why, no; I----” - -Marston shrugged his shoulders indifferently. - -“Don’t tell me, if you don’t want to,” he drawled. “But if it’s -something you want to keep to yourself, for goodness sake, wipe that -scowl off your face and brace up.” - -Stovebridge eyed the other with a speculative glance. Why not confide -in Marston? He hated Merriwell and would certainly never peach. -Besides, he might suggest something helpful. - -“I’ll tell you about it, Fred,” he said in a low tone, as he drew his -chair closer to his friend. “I’m in a deuce of a scrape. I--I--was the -one--who ran over that kid this morning.” - -His face flushed a little; his eyes were averted. He did not find it -easy to tell, even to Fred Marston. - -The latter gave a low whistle. - -“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “You don’t say! How did it happen?” - -“It was at the bend by the Hanlon farm,” Stovebridge explained. “I was -hitting up a pretty good clip, and when I came round the bend she was -standing in the middle of the road. There was plenty of time for her to -get away, but she never moved. I tried to run to one side, but there -wasn’t room, and--the kid went under.” - -“I always said they didn’t have sense enough to get out of the way,” -Marston remarked in a vexed tone. - -Then he looked curiously at his friend. - -“What made you beat it?” he asked. “Why didn’t you stop and pick her -up? It wasn’t your fault--no one could have blamed you, if you only -hadn’t run away.” - -“I couldn’t, Fred--I simply couldn’t,” Stovebridge confessed, without -lifting his eyes. “My one idea was to get away before any one saw me. -You know the beastly things they do to a fellow sometimes. Why, I might -have been jugged for a year or more.” - -“Yes, I know,” agreed the other. “Still----” - -He stopped abruptly and looked out over the golf course in a meditative -way. - -“You managed pretty well, though,” he said presently as he turned back -to Stovebridge. “No one saw you on your way here, I suppose?” - -The other shook his head. - -“No; if it wasn’t for that beastly cap I should feel quite safe. But -Merriwell suspects me on that account.” - -Marston’s beady eyes glittered. - -“Let him suspect!” he snapped angrily. “We’ll fix that all right. It -wouldn’t be safe for you to buy another, but there’s nothing to prevent -my doing so.” - -“Of course there isn’t!” Stovebridge exclaimed in a tone of relief. -“And you’ll do it?” - -Marston’s teeth snapped together. - -“I certainly will,” he declared. “I’d do more than that to spite a -Merriwell. Lend me your car and I’ll go to Wilton right after lunch.” - -Stovebridge breathed a sigh of relief. How fortunate he had confided -in Marston. With the question of the cap settled and Jim Hanlon -sidetracked, he would have nothing to fear. Dick Merriwell might do his -worst, but he could prove nothing. - -Marston arose to his feet, yawning. - -“Well, let’s toddle in and get something sustaining,” he suggested. “I -feel the need of a little bracer.” - -“Don’t forget to pick out a medium check,” Stovebridge reminded, as -they strolled through the reception hall to the dining room beyond. “I -said mine was a little larger than the one he picked up, but if you get -it too pronounced, Bob Jennings will smell a rat. He’s a bit doubtful -now.” - -“Trust me,” Marston returned confidently. - -They settled themselves comfortably at a small table near one of the -windows, and a waiter hurried up. - -“Two Martinis--dry,” Marston said, unfolding his napkin. “Bring them -right away.” - -“Not any for me,” Stovebridge put in hastily. “I’ve got to run this -afternoon.” - -“Oh, shucks! What’s one cocktail?” expostulated the other. “Just put a -little ginger into you.” - -But Stovebridge persisted in his refusal; already he had taken -considerably more stimulant than he felt was wise. So when the -cocktails came Marston drank them both. - -While his friend was writing out the order, Stovebridge glanced idly -about the well-filled room. He gave a slight start as his eyes met -those of Dick Merriwell, who was seated with his party three or four -tables away. The Yale man was looking at him with a certain steady -scrutiny that was a little disconcerting. There was no gleam of -friendliness in his dark eyes, but rather a cold, steely glitter. His -fine mouth was set in a hard line, curving disdainfully at the corners, -as though he were regarding something beneath his contempt. It was not -a pleasant expression, and, despite his belief that the other could -really prove nothing, Stovebridge could not help feeling a little -uneasy. - -“Who are you staring at?” - -Marston’s drawling voice roused Stovebridge, and, turning quickly, he -looked at his friend. - -“Merriwell,” he breathed softly. - -“Bah!” snapped the other. “He can’t do anything. We’ll put a spoke in -his wheel. For goodness’ sake, Brose, do brace up and forget it!” - -Stovebridge made an effort to do so, but all the time he was eating -lunch he had an uneasy feeling that those cold eyes were still fixed -upon him, and it was only by the most determined exertion of will power -that he kept himself from looking again toward the table where Roger -Clingwood and his guests seemed to be enjoying themselves so thoroughly. - -As they came out to the veranda after lunch, Roger Clingwood pulled out -his watch impatiently. - -“Almost two!” he exclaimed. “What in the world is the matter with -Layton?” - -He turned to a short, pleasant-faced, youngish-looking fellow who, -also watch in hand, was looking anxiously down the drive. - -“Heard anything of Charlie Layton, Niles?” he asked. - -“Not a thing,” the other answered petulantly. “I can’t understand -what’s delayed him. He promised to be here soon after twelve, and -the race was to be pulled off at three. People are beginning to come -already.” - -“Sartoris is there to meet him, I believe,” Clingwood remarked. - -“Yes, and I tried just now to get him on the phone, but couldn’t.” - -Jack Niles shut his watch with a snap and shoved it back in his pocket -irritably. He was extremely homely. Every feature seemed to be either -too large or too small, or not placed right on his face; but for all -that there was something very attractive in his expression, and in the -straightforward, honest directness of his brown eyes. His clothes were -loud almost to eccentricity, and it was quite evident that he was a -thorough-going, out-and-out sport. - -As he started to walk away, Roger Clingwood caught his arm. - -“Oh, by the way, Jack,” he said suddenly, “I want you to meet my friend -Merriwell. Dick, this is Jack Niles, to whose efforts is due the fact -that we still occasionally have athletic events at the club.” - -As Niles turned quickly, his hand outstretched, the worried look on his -face gave place to one of surprised interest. - -“Not Dick Merriwell, of Yale?” he asked eagerly. - -Dick smiled as he took the other’s hand. - -“I happen to be,” he said quietly. - -He felt a sudden liking for this homely young fellow with the honest -eyes, who looked as though he was square down to the very bone. - -“Well, say!” Niles exclaimed, as he gripped Dick’s hand and worked it -up and down like a pump handle. “If this isn’t a little bit of all -right. I’ve seen you play ball, and I’ve seen you run, but I never had -a chance of shaking hands before. What are you doing away out here?” - -“Touring with some friends of mine,” Dick answered smiling. “I’d like -you to meet them.” - -He introduced Buckhart, Tucker and Bigelow, and for a few minutes they -stood talking together. - -“I don’t know what we’ll do if Layton throws us down,” Niles said -anxiously. “We’ve made so much talk about the race, and there’ll be -an awful mob here to see it. Oh, there’s Sartoris! Now we’ll find out -something. Excuse me, will you?” - -Without waiting for a reply, he dashed down the steps toward a car that -had just driven up. Its occupant, a tall, bare-headed fellow in tennis -flannels, sprang out, waving a yellow envelope in his hand. - -“He can’t get here until to-morrow,” he explained. “Held up by a wreck -on the road.” - -Niles took the telegram in silence, and, as he read it, his face -shadowed. - -“Well, what do you think of that?” he muttered, as he crumpled it -in his hand. “To-morrow! And look at the bunch that’s here to-day, -expecting to see something good. Coming thicker every minute, too.” - -He glanced down the drive where several cars were in sight, heading -toward the clubhouse. - -“Wouldn’t that drive you to the batty house!” he went on. “I suppose -it’s up to yours truly to get busy and announce that there ‘won’t be no -race.’” - -His eyes, full of an expression of whimsical chagrin, roved slowly -over the crowd which had hastily gathered at the approach of Sartoris, -until they rested on Dick Merriwell’s face. - -The next moment a gleam of hope had leaped into them, and Niles sprang -up the steps to the Yale man’s side. - -“Say, what’s the matter with your taking Layton’s place, old fellow, -and saving my rap?” he asked eagerly. - -Merriwell smiled a little. - -“It would be rather difficult to take his place,” he said slowly. -“Layton is one of the best milers in the country, and it’s a long time -since I’ve done any running.” - -“Oh, that be hanged!” exploded Niles. “You’re too blamed modest. You -can do it if you want to. Come ahead, old fellow, and save me from -making an ass of myself by disappointing this crowd.” - -“When you put it that way, Niles, I can scarcely refuse,” Dick smiled. -“I’ll be very glad to do what you want, only you mustn’t expect too -much of me.” - -Jack Niles was overjoyed. - -“That’s bully!” he exclaimed. “You’ve helped me out of a deuce of a -hole and saved the day. It’s just my luck to find a substitute as good -or better than the original.” - -Brose Stovebridge stood near, a slight sneer on his face. - -“It’s lucky I’m not the one who didn’t show up,” he drawled. “Merriwell -seems to think such a lot of this fellow Layton that I don’t suppose he -could possibly have been induced to run against him, if our positions -were reversed.” - -Apparently his words were intended for the man next to him, but they -were quite loud enough for the Yale man to hear. - -The latter turned and surveyed Stovebridge with a cool, disconcerting -glance. - -“I happen to have run against Layton several times, Mr. Stovebridge,” -he said quietly. “If he were here to-day, I should be very glad to do -so again. I hesitated just now--for another reason.” - -To the guilty man, his meaning was obvious; and though Stovebridge -shrugged his shoulders with affected indifference, his face flushed, -and he made no reply. - -“Come ahead, fellows, and get ready,” Niles broke in briskly. “We’ve -got just ten minutes to start on time.” - -He took Dick’s arm and hustled him through to the dressing room, where -he hunted up running trunks, shoes, and shirt; and in less than the -allotted time, the Yale man was ready for the contest. - -As they came out of the clubhouse and walked over to the track, -Merriwell felt a thrill of the old enthusiasm. The well-kept track and -the crowd of spectators thronging both sides made his blood course more -swiftly and caused his eyes to sparkle. - -They went directly to the starting point, where Stovebridge presently -joined them. Niles, mounted on a stand, megaphone in hand, waved his -arm for silence. When the hub-bub of talk and laughter had ceased he -put the instrument to his lips. - -“Gentlemen,” he declaimed, “I have to announce that Mr. Layton has been -detained by a wreck and cannot reach the club this afternoon.” - -A murmur of disappointment arose from the crowd, which was quickly -stilled by another motion from Niles. - -“I have, however,” he went on, “secured an efficient substitute in the -person of Dick Merriwell, of Yale, who has kindly consented to run in -order that we shall not be disappointed.” - -As he jumped to the ground, the quick round of hearty applause, mingled -with cheers, showed that Merriwell’s name was not unknown. Then the -buzz of talk started up again with renewed vigor, as the judges and -timekeepers consulted with Niles and arranged the details of the race. - -Dick stood a little to one side of the mark, talking to Buckhart, whose -face was aglow with enthusiasm. - -“Lick the stuffing out of the coyote, pard,” urged Brad, in a low tone. -“You can sure do it if you try.” - -“No question of my trying, old fellow,” Merriwell smiled. “There’s no -use in going into a thing unless you do your best! But they seem to -think this fellow is pretty good, and you know I’m out of practice.” - -“That don’t worry me a whole lot,” the Texan grinned. - -“Say, Merriwell, come over here, will you?” Niles called, standing near -Stovebridge. - -“We’ll have to toss for positions,” he explained, as Dick walked over -to him. “The track is just a mile in circumference, so that you’ll have -to make one complete circuit, and of course, the fellow on the inside -has a little the advantage.” - -He took a coin out of his pocket and sent it spinning in the air. - -“Heads, or tails?” - -“Tails,” Dick said quickly. - -The other caught the coin deftly. - -“Heads it is,” he grinned. “You lose. Take your places, -gentlemen--Stovebridge, inside; Merriwell, out.” - -Dick toed the mark, and his eyes wandered for an instant down the long -line of eagerly watching men. As he did so, he caught sight of the -dark, sullen face of Jim Hanlon glaring at him from behind two of the -clubmen. - -“Still thinks I’m it, by the looks of him,” the Yale man said to -himself. “I must have a talk with him when this is over.” - -Then he thrust the fellow out of his mind and crouched for the start. -Stovebridge was beside him, vibrant and ready. The two timekeepers -stood by the mark, stop watches in hand. Niles stepped back a pace and -drew a small revolver from his pocket. - -“Are you ready?” he called in a clear voice. - -He raised the revolver above his head. - -“Set!” - -Both runners quivered slightly, as they waited with every muscle tense -the moment when they could shoot forward down the track. - -The sharp crack of the pistol split the silence, and like a flash both -men leaped forward, to the accompaniment of a bellow from the watching -crowd, and flew down the stretch of hard, dry cinders. - -Merriwell had made the better start and was slightly ahead of the -other man. Presently it was seen that this lead was slowly increasing, -and the spectators cheered wildly as they observed it, for as a rule -they were an impartial lot and believed in shouting for the best man. -Besides they were grateful to the stranger for having made the race -possible. - -Almost imperceptibly this lead increased. In spite of his lack of -practice, the Yale man was wonderfully speedy and ran in almost perfect -form, and with amazing ease. His body was bent forward but slightly, -with his head held up naturally. He threw his legs out well in front -with a full easy stride, and brought his feet down squarely, his thighs -and knees thrown a little forward. There was absolutely no lost -motion. His arms swung easily beside his body, and, with every stride, -seemed to help him along. - -Stovebridge ran well, but he had a bad trick of swinging his arms -back and forth across his body, which retarded him slightly, and -moreover, in his haste to finish the stride, he bent his knee somewhat, -thus losing a fraction of an inch each time, which would mount up -considerably in the course of the mile. - -The first quarter of a mile was made by Merriwell in a fraction over -a minute--almost sprinting time. Stovebridge was barely two seconds -longer. Then both men seemed to settle down to a slightly easier gait, -for such speed could not be kept up for the entire distance, and the -second quarter took several seconds longer. - -The excitement was intense. Men shoved and jostled each other in their -eagerness to get a good view; some even ran out onto the track behind -the runners. There was no more talking and laughing. A tense silence -had fallen upon the crowd as they watched breathlessly. - -Suddenly the Yale man was seen to stumble and almost lose his footing. -As he recovered his balance with a tremendous effort, Stovebridge shot -by him, and a great sigh went up from the crowd. - -“He’s twisted his ankle!” gasped Jack Niles, his fingers closing on -Buckhart’s arm with unconscious strength. - -The Texan made no reply. His face was set and a little pale. - -The next instant Merriwell had recovered himself and flashed on down -the track with almost his former speed. To most of the spectators there -did not seem to be anything the matter with him, but those who were -near enough to see his face, noticed the lines of pain in it, and the -great beads of perspiration which stood out on his forehead. - -“By Jove, that’s plucky!” Niles muttered. “It’s the nerviest thing I -ever saw.” - -His keen eye had instantly taken in the situation. In some way the Yale -man had strained his ankle, but, instead of giving up the race he was -going to fight it out to the finish. - -As Merriwell flashed over the three-quarter mile mark, Stovebridge -had a good twelve feet lead, but was showing signs of exhaustion. His -breath came in gasps, the sweat poured down his face, and his stride -was perceptibly shorter. - -The Yale man, on the contrary, was in much better condition, except -for his left leg, which he seemed trying to favor at each step. It was -apparent to everyone, by this time, that he was suffering tortures with -every stride, but he showed no signs of giving up. Instead, to the -amazement of all, he took a fresh spurt and actually began to gain on -his opponent. - -Slowly he crept up. Foot by foot the distance between the two was -lessened, until at length it was reduced to a yard. But there was -not enough time. Already the finish was in sight, and the eager -watchers waited in strained silence the end of this amazing race. -Could the gamey fellow from Yale possibly make up those three feet in -the few seconds which remained? They feared not, for almost without -exception, their sympathies were with the man who was now showing such -extraordinary pluck. - -There was a final spurt on the part of both men, and then, almost in -the last stride, Stovebridge flung himself forward with uplifted arms, -and breasted the tape a fraction in advance of Dick. - -The Clover Club champion had won, but the resulting applause was -strangely feeble. There was scarcely a man present who did not realize -that Merriwell was the better of the two. - -As Dick reeled across the line, he staggered and a spasm of pain -flashed into his face. - -Jack Niles caught him by the shoulder. - -“Quick, Buckhart!” he ripped out in his sharp, decisive tones. “We -must get him into the house and look after that ankle. Good nerve, my -boy--good nerve!” - -Merriwell smiled faintly. - -“Well, I lost the race for you, Niles!” he said. - -“Lost be hanged!” snapped the other. “You’re the gamest piece of work -that ever came down the pike. Why the deuce didn’t you stop when you -twisted your ankle that way?” - -“I don’t generally give up when I can still go ahead,” Dick said -quietly. - -“Well, you’ve got that foot of yours into a beautiful condition,” Niles -went on. “It’s beginning to swell already. Here, sit down, while we -take you into the house.” - -He and Buckhart clasped hands and, lifting Merriwell up between them, -started slowly back toward the clubhouse, the spectators straggling -behind, discussing the result with much interest. - -The two fellows carried Dick into the dressing room, where he rested on -a chair while they bathed his ankle in cold water and then bandaged it -as tightly as they could to keep down the swelling. - -“How the mischief did you do it, pard?” Buckhart asked, while this was -being done. - -“I think I stepped on a small stone,” Dick answered “At least it felt -like that.” - -Niles looked up quickly. - -“A stone!” he exclaimed. “That’s impossible. I walked over the track an -hour before the race and it was in perfect condition. It couldn’t have -been a stone.” - -“Well, it felt like one,” Dick smiled. “I can’t swear to it.” - -Niles turned to one of the men who had acted as timekeepers, and who -was helping them with the bandage. - -“Say, Johnson, just take a run out to the track and see if you can see -anything of a stone, will you?” he asked. “I want to find out about -this.” - -Johnson was back in a few minutes and reported that he could not find -even a pebble on the track. He had questioned the dumb fellow, Hanlon, -who was raking up near the clubhouse, and found that he had not yet -touched anything on the track. - -“I must have been mistaken, then,” Dick said lightly. “It was just pure -carelessness.” - -He took a shower and then dressed and limped into the reception hall -with Buckhart and Niles, who had waited for him. - -A group of men were talking in the centre of the room, and Niles -stepped aside for a moment to speak to one of them, leaving Merriwell -and the Texan standing close beside one of the big windows which opened -on the veranda. - -Brose Stovebridge was lounging in a wicker chair just outside, and -as Dick noticed him he saw a look of eager interest flash into the -fellow’s eyes, which were turned toward the drive. - -A moment later Fred Marston came in sight, walking rapidly along the -veranda, and presently stopped beside his friend’s chair. - -“Well, did you get it?” the latter asked eagerly. - -“Sure, I did,” returned Marston with a smile. - -He pulled a small parcel wrapped in brown paper out of his pocket and -handed it to Stovebridge, who almost snatched it out of his hand. - -“Ah,” he breathed in a tone of relief. “I guess that will settle his -hash. He can suspect all he wants----” - -He broke off abruptly as he turned his head and looked into Dick -Merriwell’s cool, slightly smiling eyes. A sudden rush of color flamed -into his face, and, with a quick drawn breath, he half rose from his -chair. - -“What’s the matter?” asked Marston. - -Then, following the direction of the other’s fascinated gaze, he too, -saw the Yale man, and scowled fiercely. - -“Come in and let’s get a drink,” he said abruptly. “I need a bracer.” - -Stovebridge got up a little unsteadily, and the two vanished in the -direction of the buffet. - -Dick looked significantly at the Texan. - -“What do you think of that, Brad?” he asked quietly. - -“Huh!” grunted Buckhart contemptuously. “The onery varmit’s sure a -whole lot shy of you, pard. If he isn’t the coyote you’re looking for, -I’ll eat my hat. You hear me gently warble!” - -Merriwell gazed thoughtfully out of the window. - -“I wonder what was in that package,” he mused. “And I wonder too, where -this Marston comes in.” - -“I reckon he’s in the same class as Stovebridge,” the Texan said -emphatically. “I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw a yearling -by the tail.” - -Jack Niles came up briskly at that moment. - -“Well, fellows, let’s make ourselves comfortable outdoors,” he said. -“You don’t want to stand on that leg of yours more than you can help -for a while, old chap.” - -“It’s feeling pretty comfortable just now,” Dick returned, with a -smile. “Your bandages are all to the good.” - -At the same time he was not sorry to sit down in one of the big wicker -chairs, soon becoming the centre of a laughing, joking crowd of men, -all bent on showing their admiration for the Yale athlete who had given -such an exhibition of nerve and pluck as few of them had ever seen. - -Merriwell thoroughly enjoyed himself, and was so taken up with the -discussion and talk that he had no time to give to the problem which -he had set himself to solve. At length, as the afternoon wore on, the -fellows began to drop away. One by one, or in parties of two or three, -they left the club in motor cars, runabouts, or on horseback, and by -six o’clock there were only about a dozen left on the veranda, who were -either stopping at the club or taking dinner there. - -Then Dick remembered Jim Hanlon, and turned to Buckhart who sat beside -him. - -“Say, Brad,” he said in a low tone. “Do you think you could find that -dumb fellow and bring him into the clubhouse? You know I wanted to -straighten him out about who ran over the little girl. He seems to have -an idea that I did it.” - -The Texan got up readily. - -“Sure thing. He ought to be around somewheres--maybe in the kitchen.” - -It was ten minutes before he came back with the announcement that -Hanlon was not to be found. They had told him in the kitchen that the -fellow usually went home at six o’clock. - -“Well, it doesn’t matter much,” Dick said. “I’ll probably see him -to-morrow.” - -Very soon afterward they went in to dinner. Niles and two other men -joined them, and they made a jolly party around a big table in the -middle of the room, which was not so empty after all, quite a number of -people having driven out to the club especially to take dinner there. -Stovebridge and Marston sat at the same table they had occupied at -lunch, and Dick noticed that both seemed to be hitting it up pretty -freely. - -The evening being a little chilly, they did not return to the veranda -after dinner, but made themselves comfortable in the reception hall, -where a fire had been lit in the great stone fireplace. - -Presently Merriwell remembered that he wanted to call up the Hanlon -farm to find out about the little girl, and, on inquiring, found that -the telephone was in a small room opening out of the hall. - -He had no trouble in getting the number, and Mrs. Hanlon herself came -to the telephone. She seemed very much worried and nervous, and told -that the doctor had been there almost all the afternoon. The child’s -arm had been broken and her head badly cut, and, from the symptoms, the -physician was afraid that there was some internal trouble. - -“Poor little kid!” Dick muttered as he hung up the receiver. “I -certainly shall do my best to show up the brute who is responsible for -that. He ought to get the maximum penalty, and if she doesn’t pull -through I shouldn’t like to be in his shoes.” - -He opened a door which led directly outside, and stepped out on the -deserted veranda. It was a perfect night, still and rather cool for -that time of year, and, as he looked up at the glittering stars, he -drew a long breath of pure oxygen. - -All at once he heard a stealthy footfall behind him, and, half -turning, he caught a glimpse of a crouching figure close upon him. - -As he leaped instinctively to one side he felt the impact of a spent -blow on his back. Something sharp pricked his skin. - -He whirled around swiftly, only to see a shadowy figure leap from the -end of the veranda and disappear into the darkness. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE STRUGGLE IN THE DARK. - - -Like a flash Dick was after him, but as he reached the edge of the -veranda, he realized the futility of pursuing the would-be assailant. -The fellow, whoever he was, evidently knew the ground thoroughly, and, -handicapped as the Yale man was with his bandaged ankle, it would be a -waste of time to try and catch him. - -He walked slowly back into the light that streamed out through one of -the windows, and slipped off his coat. - -Just between the shoulders was a clean cut about twelve or fourteen -inches long, evidently made by an extremely sharp instrument. - -The Yale man gave a low whistle. - -“That fellow was out for blood,” he murmured. “That’s about as close a -call as I’ve ever had. I wonder----” - -Putting his hand up to his back, he found that both shirt and -undershirt had been cut through, though not so badly, and that there -was a tiny cut in the skin just between the shoulder blades. - -Thoughtfully he slipped into his coat again. - -“That couldn’t have been Stovebridge,” he mused. “Much as the fellow -hates me, I don’t believe he would deliberately attempt murder.” - -He glanced through the window into the reception-hall. Neither the tall -athlete nor his friend Marston were in the room. - -Dick shook his head slowly. - -“Just the same, it wasn’t him. It must have been that dumb fellow. -He’s been looking at me all day as though he would like to knife me, -and now he’s tried it. I wish I could get hold of him to convince him -that he’s on the wrong track.” - -Just now, however, the Yale man was more troubled as to how he could -get up to his room and slip into his spare coat without attracting -attention by passing through the reception hall. He saw nothing to -be gained by letting the clubmen know what had happened. They could -do no good now, and Roger Clingwood would be worried to death and -tremendously mortified at the thought of such a thing happening to his -guest. - -He remembered having noticed a small stairway leading from the second -floor straight down to an outside door which Clingwood told him -opened on the drive at the other end of the house--a door that was -occasionally used by members who wanted to go directly to their rooms. - -This door might possibly be unlocked. At any rate it was worth trying. - -Slipping around the house, he found to his relief that the door yielded -to his touch. In a moment he was upstairs, and had taken the coat from -his bag and slipped into it. Then he threw the other on a chair and -went downstairs again. - -No one made any comment on his rather long absence, and presently they -all adjourned to the billiard room. Not wanting to tax his ankle, Dick -did not play but sat watching the others, and by ten o’clock, he was so -sleepy that he could scarcely keep his eyes open. - -Niles noticed this as he stood beside the Yale man watching Buckhart -run off a string. - -“Say, old man, you look as if you were about ready for your downey,” he -grinned. - -Dick smiled. - -“I am,” he confessed. “Sitting around this way, doing nothing, always -sends me off.” - -“I don’t feel any too wide awake myself,” the other remarked. “As soon -as we finish this game, we’ll strap up that ankle of yours, and then -all of us can hit the pillow.” - -The others being of the same mind, they presently put up the cues. -The Yale man’s ankle was treated with iodine, freshly bandaged, and -everyone trouped upstairs. - -The entire second floor of the clubhouse was divided into a series of -small single rooms opening off a long hall. Most of the club members -who stayed there regularly, had quarters on the third floor, where the -rooms were larger and where there would be less need to shift around to -accommodate a large number of guests. - -The Yale men had been assigned four of these rooms nearest the stairs, -and there were only two other rooms on that floor occupied, one by -Roger Clingwood, who was spending the night there on account of his -guests, and the other by a friend of Jack Niles. - -Clingwood went before them, switching on the lights in each room, and, -having seen that they were provided with everything, he bade them good -night. - -Bouncer Bigelow betrayed no interest in anything, save his overweening -desire to get to bed, and, closing his door at once, he proceeded to -disrobe in haste. - -Tucker, however, wide awake and lively as usual, skipped into -Buckhart’s room where Dick had stopped for a minute’s talk. - -“Well, how does the sleuthing come on?” he chirped, as he dropped down -on the bed. “What clues has the great Sherlock Holmes unearthed?” - -“Not as many as I’d like, Thomas,” Dick smiled. “While I’m morally -certain that Stovebridge is the man we’re looking for, I can’t quite -prove it.” - -Tucker’s eyes widened. - -“Whew!” he whistled softly. “Stovebridge, eh? The great and only -distance runner. Keep it up, Richard. There isn’t a man about these -parts I’d rather see nailed. He thinks he’s just about the warmest -baby that ever chased over a cinder path. You ought to have heard him -blowing around after the race this afternoon, when anybody with the -brains of a hen could see that you were the better man. It made me -sick.” - -Dick smiled. “He won fairly enough; but I would like to know how that -stone got on the track--for it was a stone without any doubt.” - -“Maybe that flabby, rum-soaked friend of his put it there,” suggested -Tucker seriously. “He’s another one I’d like to sock in the jaw.” - -Merriwell’s eyes twinkled as he got up and moved slowly toward the door. - -“What’s the matter with you, Tommy?” he asked. “Seems to me you’re -awfully savage to-night.” - -“It’s my nature,” Tucker returned plaintively. “I really have the -sweetest disposition you ever saw, but there are some men that rile me -like a sour gooseberry.” - -He gave a sigh and dropped back on the bed at full length with the air -of one who was comfortably settling himself for a long stay. - -“Now, look ahere, little one,” Buckhart said firmly, as he beheld these -preparations, “you needn’t think you’re going to settle down there for -one of your talk fests. I’m going to bed, and I reckon you’d better -hike for your own bunk. You hear me!” - -Tucker arose with an injured look on his freckled face. - -“I’m thankful I haven’t the inhospitable nature of some people,” he -remarked, as he edged toward the door. “I’ve heard much about the -free, open-handed nature of Westerners, but the only one I ever had -the misfortune to get real intimate with, has such a mean, envious, -grudging----” - -He dodged through the door just ahead of the Texan’s shoe, and finished -his sentence in the corridor: - -“---- unaccommodating disposition, that he must be the exception that -proves the rule.” - -“Go to bed, you little runt,” Buckhart grinned. “You sure buzz around -worse than a mosquito. Go to bed before I lay violent hands on you.” - -“Don’t you dare put your hands on me,” defied Tommy. “I’ll chaw you up -if you do. You hear me gently----” - -The Westerner made a dash at him, and the little fellow skipped into -his room and snapped the key. - -Dick, who had been watching these proceedings with a smile, now walked -down the hall to the room next to Buckhart’s and, stepping in, closed -the door mechanically behind him. - -Then, as he groped for the electric light button, he suddenly -remembered that, when he had stepped into Brad’s room, he had left his -own light turned on. In fact, it had been burning ever since Roger -Clingwood had come upstairs with them. - -This was rather peculiar. He remembered distinctly that there were two -globes, one on each side of the dressing-table; it seemed impossible -that they should both burn out at the same time. Some one must have -turned the switch. And the annoying part of it was that he did not know -where that switch was. He turned to open the hall door and let in a -little light from outside, and as he did so he suddenly realized that -there was some one else in the room. - -Instantly he held his breath and listened. The sound of guarded -breathing was unmistakable; some one was there, and, what was even more -unpleasant, that some one was between him and the door. - -For an instant Dick stood like a statue. Could this be Jack Niles, or -one of the other members of the club playing a trick on him? It did not -seem likely, and yet who else---- - -Jim Hanlon! - -As the thought flashed suddenly into his brain, it must be confessed -that his heart began to beat a little unevenly though the hand which -reached out and began to grope along the wall for the switch was -perfectly steady. - -He must find that button. With the light on, he had not the slightest -fear of his assailant, armed though he probably was. But in the pitch -darkness of the room the other had an immense advantage of which, the -Yale man’s experience earlier in the evening warned him, the fellow -would not hesitate to avail himself. His fingers searched the wall -swiftly, but in vain. - -Then a board creaked softly near the door. The man was coming toward -him. - -Merriwell at once abandoned his search for the switch and turned to -face the intruder. His back was toward the wall, and he could not -see his hand before his face. There was a little satisfaction in the -thought that the other man was probably no better off. - -Then the unpleasant recollection came to him of having heard that when -a person has lost one or more senses the remaining ones become more -keen and powerful. It was possible that this fellow could see in the -dark, or at least, distinguish enough to give him a great advantage. - -Very softly the stealthy sound came on; the other had apparently -removed his shoes and was walking in his stocking feet. The Yale man -pictured to himself the attitude the fellow would take. His head and -shoulders would be bent in a crouching position, the right hand, -holding the knife, extended a little, with the point out. With this in -mind, he leaned forward a little himself, his feet braced, both arms -outstretched before him, and waited. - -It seemed an interminable time before his keen eye saw what seemed -to be a shadow looming up not a foot away. Without an instant’s -hesitation, he plunged forward and made a beautiful flying tackle. As -he had hoped, he caught the fellow fairly about the knees and, with a -crash which shook the room, they went down together. - -Like a flash, Dick twisted around and made a grab for the unknown’s -right wrist. In the darkness he missed it, but managed to get a grip on -the arm just below the elbow. - -Then followed a brief but desperate struggle. The fellow writhed and -twisted and did his utmost to break away and free the hand which held -the knife, but, having once closed with his enemy, Merriwell had little -trouble in pinning him down. - -He had scarcely done so when the hall door was flung open and Buckhart -stood on the threshold, Tucker just behind him. - -“Suffering coyotes!” the Texan exclaimed as his eyes fell upon the two -men in close embrace on the floor. - -Then he pushed the electric light button, which was close beside the -door, and the room was flooded with brilliancy. - -“Come in, Brad,” Dick said quietly, “and close the door.” - -Buckhart and Tucker both stepped inside, the latter shutting the door -after him. - -“Kindly relieve this gentleman of his sticker, one of you,” came again -in Merriwell’s even tones. - -To hear him, one would never have supposed that he had just been -engaged in a struggle for his life. - -The fellow clung desperately to the long, keen knife, but the big Texan -seized his wrist with a grip of iron, and the next moment the weapon -clattered to the floor, being at once secured by Tucker. - -Merriwell sprang lightly to his feet, and his assailant followed his -example more slowly and stood sullenly eying the three men. - -It was Jim Hanlon. - -“The miserable snake in the grass!” roared the Texan, his great fists -clenched and his eyes flashing fire. “He ought to be thrashed within an -inch of his life, and I’m going to do it!” - -Dick put a detaining hand on his friend’s arm. - -“Wait a minute, Brad,” he said quietly. “Don’t be in such a hurry. This -fellow is only doing what he thinks is right. I want to talk to him.” - -He took a step forward and stood for an instant looking steadily at -Hanlon. - -“You can understand what I am saying, can’t you?” he asked presently. - -The other nodded sullenly. - -“You came here to-night to kill me because you thought I was the one -who ran over your sister?” Dick queried. - -The deaf mute made an emphatic gesture of assent, and his black eyes -flashed. - -Merriwell continued to eye the other steadily. - -“I did not do it,” he said quietly. - -A look of scornful disbelief lit up Hanlon’s sombre eyes. - -“Listen to me,” said Dick slowly, “and I will tell you what happened -this morning. My friends and I were driving to the club from Wilton. At -the curve we saw something in the road, and stopped. When I got out I -found that it was a little girl, unconscious and bleeding from a great -gash in her forehead. I carried her into the farmhouse and found that -she belonged there. She was not dead at the time, but badly hurt, and -the doctor was sent for at once----” - -He stopped abruptly. The dumb youth was searching frantically in his -pocket for something; his mouth was trembling and his eyes filled with -a wild eagerness. - -Dick stepped over to a small desk and took out a sheet of paper, marked -with the club letterhead, which he handed to Hanlon. - -“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly. - -The fellow snatched it from him and, turning to the dressing table, -rested it on the polished surface while he scrawled a brief sentence. -Then he thrust the paper into Dick’s hands. - -“Not killed--is that true?” - -The Yale man looked up from the paper. - -“Perfectly true,” he said. “She is alive now. I telephoned to Mrs. -Hanlon this evening and found that she was alive, though in a very -critical condition.” - -The other took the paper and wrote again. - -“Will she die?” - -“I don’t know,” Merriwell said simply, as he read the question. - -Jim Hanlon seemed to be in an agony of indecision. His hands clenched -and unclenched and the slender, brown fingers twitching nervously. All -the time his glittering black eyes were fixed fiercely on the Yale -man’s face as if he were trying to plumb the depths of the other’s -soul and read his very thoughts. Finally he reached out, took the paper -from Merriwell’s hand, scrawled a sentence and gave it back again. - -“If you didn’t run over her, who did?” was what Dick read. - -As he raised his eyes again to Hanlon’s face, the Yale man felt a -thrill of pity go through him at the thought of what this fellow must -be suffering. He had also a distinct feeling of admiration for the -manner in which the mute was persevering in the face of all obstacles -in his search for the man who had been responsible for his little -sister’s injuries. - -Whether Dick approved of the other’s primitive method of taking the law -into his own hands was another matter. Though the Yale man’s temper was -under perfect control, it was still alive, and there had been a time -when he might have done just what this dumb boy was trying to do. It -was not strange, then, that there should be a certain bond of sympathy -between the two. - -“I am not sure,” he said, handing the paper back to Hanlon. “I have -been trying all day to find out.” - -The other wrote hastily and returned the scrawl. - -“Who do you think it is?” - -Merriwell hesitated. The ferocity had quite gone from the boy’s face, -and its place been taken by a look of intense pleading. The Yale -man wondered whether it would be right for him to give voice to his -suspicions. And yet, they were more than mere suspicions. In his mind -there was no doubt whatever that Stovebridge was the guilty man, but -the difficulty was to get absolute proof. - -As he watched the play of emotions on the mobile face of the lad before -him, a sudden thought leaped into Dick’s brain which made his eyes -sparkle and brought a half smile to his lips. What a solution that -would be--to make this fellow whom Stovebridge had fooled and played -with the means of bringing the clubman to justice! - -“I think it is Stovebridge,” he said aloud; “but I am not sure. I want -you to find out the truth. Can you read the lip talk at a distance--say -at fifty feet?” - -Hanlon nodded emphatically. - -“Good! Well, this is what I want you to do. Stovebridge and this -Marston are great pals, and I believe Marston knows all about the -accident. They are likely to talk it over to-morrow--probably on the -veranda; for Marston always sits there. Of course, they would not talk -loud enough for any one sitting near them to hear, but they would never -suspect you, if you were out raking the drive. Yet you could read their -lips and understand. You get my meaning?” - -There was a look of admiration in the boy’s eyes as he nodded. - -“You’ve sure got a head on your shoulders, pard,” the big Texan said -enthusiastically. “That’s a jim dandy scheme.” - -Dick only smiled and looked at Hanlon. - -“I will fix it so that you will be put to work on the drive in the -morning,” he said. “And you know what to do. If they say enough to -betray themselves, write it down and come to me with it. I’ll do the -rest.” - -The dumb fellow nodded emphatically. The dark eyes were full of a keen -intelligence as he looked at the Yale man. - -“Well, I think that’s about all we’ve got to say to-night,” the latter -remarked, after a thoughtful pause. “It’s pretty late, and you’d better -be getting home.” - -Still the other hesitated, and a flush slowly mounted into his tanned -face. Then he took the paper and wrote two words on it. - -“I’m sorry.” - -Merriwell smiled a little. - -“Oh, that’s all right,” he said quietly. “You thought you were doing -the right thing.” - -He opened the door and stepped out into the hall, the fellow following -him. They went down the narrow flight of stairs to the door which -opened onto the drive--a door that Dick found had been left unlocked. -With a brief gesture of farewell, the dumb man vanished into the -darkness. Merriwell turned the key and came back to his room, a look of -satisfaction on his face. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -DICK MERRIWELL WINS. - - -About ten o’clock next morning Brose Stovebridge and his friend Marston -were sitting together in the latter’s favorite corner of the Clover -Club veranda. - -Considering the crowd of the day before, the place seemed deserted. -One man, absorbed in the morning paper, lounged at the far end of the -veranda, and a foursome was just teeing off on the links across the -drive; but otherwise there was no one in sight. - -Presently the deaf mute, shouldering a rake, came around the corner of -the house and began to rake up the roadway. - -Fred Marston yawned. - -“Deuced dull this morning,” he drawled. - -“Little early yet for any one to be around,” Stovebridge returned -absently. - -He was dressed much as he had been the day before, except that he wore -a cloth cap of medium black and white check, obviously new. - -“Cap worked to a charm, didn’t it?” Marston remarked after a moment’s -pause. “I saw Merriwell taking it in when we drove up, and it stumped -him, all right. He’d be surprised to learn that I bought it yesterday -afternoon.” - -“Yes, it’s got him guessing all right,” the other answered. “He may -suspect what he likes, but he can’t prove anything on me now.” - -Despite the athlete’s assumption of nonchalance, there was an -underlying note of anxiety in his voice which Marston seemed to notice. - -“What’s the matter with you, anyway?” he asked in a peevish tone. “You -ought to be chipper as a lark, and yet I swear you’ve got something on -your mind.” - -Stovebridge glanced quickly around, but there was no one within hearing -distance. - -“I can’t help worrying about the girl,” he said in a low voice. “I -heard this morning that the doctor was there all night. They’re afraid -of internal complications.” - -“That’s too bad, of course,” Marston remarked, without any particular -feeling in his voice. “But I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. You’re -safe, no matter what happens.” - -“But if she should die, there’ll be a rigid investigation,” Stovebridge -said slowly. “You can’t tell what they might unearth. The idea makes me -cursed nervous.” - -“For goodness’ sake, don’t borrow trouble!” the other said sharply. “If -you keep on going around with that long face some one will begin to -smell a rat. All you’ve got to do is to sit tight and say nothing. They -can’t prove anything on you if you only throw a good bluff.” - -Neither of them gave a thought to the dumb youth who was raking the -drive some forty feet away. But had Stovebridge seen the ferocious -glare in the dark eyes which were furtively watching him, he would have -been more than disturbed--he would have been seriously alarmed. - -Marston yawned again and stretched himself lazily. - -“Wish somebody would come around so we could get up a little poker -game,” he remarked. “This sitting here doing nothing is deadly dull.” - -Stovebridge arose to his feet with sudden resolution. - -“Get your clubs and let’s go around the nine hole course,” he -suggested. “It will do you good.” - -“No thanks,” Marston drawled. “I never by any chance enjoy doing the -things that are good for me, and you know I hate golf. Toddle along, -Brose, and I’ll wait here until somebody comes around that has a -sensible idea of amusement.” - -Stovebridge shrugged his shoulders resignedly. - -“Well, I’ll have to do it alone, then,” he said as he started for the -dressing room for his clubs. - -When he returned, a few minutes later, Jim Hanlon had disappeared. - -“Aren’t you going to take a caddy?” Marston inquired as his friend -crossed the drive to the first tee. - -“No; I’ve only got a few clubs. I can manage without one.” - -Marston watched him drive off with a tolerant smile, and when -Stovebridge had disappeared over a knoll, he got up and lounged through -the reception hall to the buffet. - -Stovebridge was not playing in good form at all. He drove wretchedly, -his brassy shots were impossible, and even his putting worse than he -had ever known it to be before. Consequently by the time he had holed -in at the fifth green with a score greater by fourteen than ever -before, he was in a furious rage and cursed the clubs, the balls, the -course--everything but himself. - -With an effort he pulled himself together and made a fair drive from -the fifth tee. The course was rather winding and along one side was a -thick wood, which had been left quite untouched when the links were -laid out. - -As he followed the ball he saw that the wind had taken it close to the -trees, if not in amongst them, and he cursed fiercely again. - -When he came up, however, he found that it lay about six feet from the -edge of the wood, and, with an exclamation of satisfaction, he took -his cleek out of the bag and swung it once or twice over his shoulder. - -His back was toward the trees, and he did not see the figure which -crept stealthily out of the underbrush. - -The next instant there was a rush behind him, something struck him on -the back, and, taken by surprise, the clubman lost his footing and -fell, with Jim Hanlon on top of him, clutching his windpipe with all -the strength in his slim, muscular fingers. - -After the first, momentary shock of surprise, Stovebridge struggled -desperately, finally succeeding in tearing the choking fingers from -his throat and struggling to his feet. For a moment he stood silent, -his breath coming in gasps and his eyes full of a great fear, as he -faced the crouching figure before him. - -Then, without warning, the clubman snatched up the iron-headed cleek -and, springing forward, struck the other a terrific blow over the head. - -Hanlon reeled and collapsed in a silent heap on the ground, blood -smearing his forehead. - -For a full minute Stovebridge stood as if turned to stone. His face -was white as chalk, as he gazed in horror-stricken fascination at the -silent thing before him. - -Then he passed one shaking hand across his forehead in a dazed manner. - -“What have I done?” he muttered in a strange voice. “What have I done?” - -His eyes traveled slowly to the blood-stained cleek, and with a shudder -he hurled it from him into the woods. - -“I’ve killed him!” he gasped hoarsely. “What shall I do? Where shall I -go?” - -Suddenly he raised his head and listened intently. Was that the sound -of voices coming from behind the hill yonder? They must not find him -here. He must fly somewhere--anywhere to get away from that horror on -the ground whose ghastly half-closed eyes seemed to be watching him. - -In a panic of fear he snatched up his golf bag and, without a backward -glance, sprang into the woods and disappeared. - -Presently the crashing of the flying man through the undergrowth died -away and all was still. A gray squirrel poked his head out of the -bushes and, sighting the huddled heap, fled with chatterings of alarm. -Then came the distant sound of talk and laughter from beyond the hill, -and the next moment a small, white sphere came sailing through the air -and landed with a thud on the turf close to the body of Jim Hanlon. - -It was as though the thing had roused him, for with a low moan he -stirred uneasily and opened his eyes. - -Following the thud of running feet, some one knelt beside him and -raised his head, and the half-conscious boy found himself gazing into -Dick Merriwell’s eyes, full of compassion and concern. - -“Who did it, Jim?” he asked quickly. - -Then he suddenly remembered. - -“Was it Stovebridge?” he questioned eagerly. - -Hanlon nodded weakly. - -“Which way did he go?” - -The dumb boy shook his head. - -“You don’t know?” Dick said disappointedly. “Did you find out anything? -Is he the one who ran over Amy?” - -Hanlon nodded, and his eyes took on a faint gleam of rage. - -“What’s happened?” asked Jack Niles as he hurried up. - -Then he saw the boy’s face. - -“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “Somebody hit him! What cur would do a thing -like that?” - -The Yale man looked up at him, and his dark eyes were cold and icy. - -“Our friend Stovebridge is the man,” he said in a tense voice. - -“What?” Niles cried in utter amazement. “Stovebridge! The cowardly -hound! But what reason----” - -“I rather think it was because Hanlon found that Stovebridge was the -man who ran over his sister,” Dick explained quietly. “They must have -had an altercation, and this is the result.” - -Overcome with amazement, Jack Niles listened to Merriwell’s brief -explanation; and when the Yale man had finished the other’s face was -dark with rage. Roger Clingwood had come up with Buckhart and Tucker in -time to hear it. - -“The scoundrel!” he exclaimed. “I’ll have him run out of the club for -this.” - -“Out of the club and into jail!” supplemented Niles fiercely. “The -child may die at any moment, I hear.” - -“The thing is to catch him,” Clingwood said anxiously. “No doubt after -this, he’s run away.” - -Jim Hanlon staggered to his feet with Dick supporting him. - -“I think I can catch him,” the Yale man said quietly. “Look after -Hanlon, will you, Brad.” - -Buckhart stepped over and took the dumb boy’s arm, and without a word -Merriwell turned and sprang into the woods, Niles following close at -his heels. - -Almost at once he found the bloody cleek and, a few feet farther on, -came upon the bag of golf sticks, which Stovebridge had thrown aside in -his haste. Then, with what seemed to Niles almost superhuman skill, the -Yale man picked up the trail of the fleeing scoundrel, and followed it -on a run. His lame ankle was forgotten; he betrayed not the slightest -limp. - -To one of Dick’s training, trailing was a comparatively easy matter in -the woods, where broken twigs, bruised leaves, and bent branches of -the bushes marked the way clearly. But when they emerged from among -the trees to the close cropped sward of the links again, he scarcely -lessened his speed. It seemed as though he knew almost by intuition -which way the man had gone. - -Very soon Niles fell behind. For all of his condition he was beginning -to be winded, while his companion showed no signs whatever of even -hurried breathing. - -Rapidly the distance between them increased as Merriwell forged ahead, -and presently he vanished over a high knoll, leaving Niles to plod on -alone, gasping and breathless, but determined not to give up. - -At last he reached the summit and there he paused with an exclamation -of satisfaction. - -A perfectly straight stretch of green was spread out before him. It -was over a mile in length, and by far the longest hole of the course. -Though there were several slight undulations, it was for the most part -quite level, being broken here and there with grassy bunkers placed to -make the hole more difficult. - -About half way down the stretch a party of golfers had stopped their -play and were staring in astonishment at the strange sight of two young -fellows tearing over the grass as hard as they could run. The one -in advance was Stovebridge, who ran desperately as though his life -depended on it. His face was white and set, his breathing labored, his -eyes full of a great fear. - -A hundred yards behind him Dick Merriwell was covering the ground at -an amazing speed. Apparently unhampered by golfing clothes or bandaged -ankle, he ran lightly and easily as though on the cinder track. It -seemed to the excited Niles on the hill top that he almost skimmed over -the ground like a bird. - -“Jove, what running!” he cried aloud. “Oh, I wish I had a watch! I -never saw anything like it on the track. There can’t be eighty yards -between them now; he’s gained twenty in a couple of minutes. Stove must -be getting winded. There! What a jump! He took that bunker like a bird. -Stove had to climb over it. What a hurdler he must be! Another five -yards gained.” - -For a moment he stood silent, shading his eyes with his hand. - -“Another bunker!” he cried presently. “Merriwell is a perfect wonder. -He’s as fresh as when he started. Great Scott! I never saw anything -like this in all my life.” - -Niles was fairly jumping up and down in his frenzied excitement. - -“Go it! go it!” he cried. “Stove’s all in. Only fifteen yards more. Why -didn’t I bring a watch? He’s making a record! Go it, Dick! Ten yards -more--eight! Oh, why isn’t there somebody else here to see this! He’s -got him! He’s got him!” - -Fairly shrieking out the last words, Jack Niles plunged down the -slope, his arms waving like an erratic windmill, and ran toward the -two men who stood together at the far end of the course. One, cool and -fresh, his breath coming a little unevenly, stood with his hand on -the shoulder of the other, who was exhausted to the verge of collapse, -breathing with great gulping gasps, unable to get enough air into his -lungs. His whole frame trembled, and his guilty eyes, unwilling to meet -the stern, accusing ones of the man before him, were fixed upon the -ground. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE BRAND OF FEAR. - - -It was not a lively party that approached the clubhouse half an hour -later. Merriwell had turned his captive over to Roger Clingwood and -Jack Niles, and was devoting his attention to the dumb boy, who had so -far recovered as to be able to walk with very little assistance. - -Brose Stovebridge looked like another man. With dragging feet and -eyes fixed on the ground, he was the picture of guilt as he slouched -along between the two other clubmen. Roger Clingwood’s eyes, wearing a -mingled expression of anger and humiliation, were set straight ahead, -as though he could not bring himself to look at the fellow who had -so disgraced his club. The homely, honest features of the other man, -showed only a fierce contempt. Behind them straggled the curious party -of golfers who had witnessed that extraordinary race. - -As they approached the veranda, a tall, well-built fellow with bronzed -face and pleasant gray eyes, stepped forward from the group assembled -by the door. - -“Hello, Niles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Awfully sorry I -disappointed you yesterday, but it couldn’t be helped. I’m ready to run -your champion to-day, though.” - -“Glad to see you, Layton,” Niles said warmly. “I don’t know----” - -Roger Clingwood’s cold, cutting voice interrupted him: - -“We have no champion, Mr. Layton. Mr. Stovebridge will soon be no -longer a member of the club.” - -A gasp of astonishment went up from the listening members, and a -feeling of utter desolation and despair swept over Stovebridge, who -turned his back swiftly on the veranda. - -“And if he were a member,” supplemented Niles, “he would no longer be -champion. Dick Merriwell holds that honor at present. I have no doubt -he will race you any time you wish.” - -A look of pleased surprise flashed into Layton’s face as he caught -sight of Dick for the first time, and, stepping forward quickly, he -took the Yale man’s hand. - -“Awfully glad to see you, old fellow,” he said warmly. - -Then he turned to Niles. - -“A race between us would be pretty much of a farce,” he smiled. -“Apparently you don’t know him as well as I do. If there’s one fellow -I’ll pull my colors to, it’s Merriwell of Yale.” - -Roger Clingwood stepped forward and touched Niles’ arm. - -“Take him upstairs and lock him in the end bedroom while I telephone -the police,” he said in a low tone. “Much as I loathe the fellow, -there’s no reason why he should be put to needless humiliation.” - -With the disappearance of the two into the clubhouse, a perfect -Bedlam of eager, breathless questions were flung at the other men -of the party, and, as the story was briefly told, exclamations of -amazement, contempt and scorn arose on every side. Some of the men -were even incredulous. It did not seem possible that the dashing, -debonair Stovebridge, one of the most popular of their number, and the -best all-around athlete in the club, could have been guilty of such -behavior; but they were at length convinced, and Roger Clingwood was -urged to lose no time in summoning an officer to take him into custody. - -As Brose Stovebridge crossed the threshold of the bedroom, his -self-control snapped like a broken thread and he flung himself face -downward on the bed, uttering a gasping cry of despair. Lying there, -shaken with dry, racking sobs, he thought of the little child whose -life had been the penalty of his recklessness. There was no doubt in -his mind that she had died, and for the first time in his life the -thought of his own troubles was swallowed up in the agony of that -greater wrong he had done another. - -Jack Niles gazed down at the man who had once been his friend, and his -first feeling of infinite contempt gradually changed to pity. The man -was suffering--suffering keenly; and Niles did not like to see any one -suffer. - -“Brace up, Stove,” he said roughly, but with kindly intent. “Take your -medicine like a man. There’s no use crying over spilt milk.” - -A shiver went through the other’s frame. - -“It’s spilt--blood--I’m thinking about,” came in muffled gasps. - -Suddenly he sprang to his feet and faced Niles. His eyes were full of -unutterable despair; there were traces of tears on his cheeks, his -hands clenched and unclenched ceaselessly. - -“You won’t believe me, Jack,” he said in a strange, unnatural voice, -“but I’m not thinking about myself, I don’t care what they do to me. -It’s the idea of that little child, dead--killed by my own hand as -surely as though I had shot her through the heart--that’s driving me -mad.” - -Niles opened his lips to speak and then closed them again. It was not -up to him to tell Stovebridge that, so far as he knew, the child was -not dead. She might have died that morning--they had been expecting it -all night--and it would be cruel to raise any false hopes. - -So he muttered a few rough words of sympathy and, closing the door, -locked it on the outside. - -His heart sank as he walked out on the veranda and saw the rugged face -of little Amy’s father. The child must be dead, and he was telling -Clingwood the sad news. He pressed up to the two. - -“An’ so he says there ain’t any more fear of her dyin’,” the man was -concluding. “She’ll be all right as soon as thet arm o’ hers gits well.” - -“Splendid!” exclaimed Clingwood, his eyes brightening. “I can’t tell -you how glad I am.” - -Niles had heard enough. The child was not likely to die, and he hurried -over to Dick Merriwell. - -“Say, Dick,” he began hesitatingly, “Stove is pretty near crazy up -there with the idea that he has killed the little girl. Now, Hanlon -says she’s going to get well after all. Don’t you think you ought to -tell Brose? He’s given up thinking about himself and says he don’t care -what they do to him; but he’s just about wild with remorse. I hate to -think of a fellow suffering the way he is.” - -The Yale man hesitated for an instant, and then his face cleared. - -“Why, yes, I’ll tell him,” he said readily. “If he were only thinking -of the consequences to himself, it would serve him right to be kept -guessing; but, as it is, that would only be needless cruelty.” - -He turned quickly and disappeared into the house. - -Upstairs, Brose Stovebridge was pacing up and down the room in a -frenzied manner. His eyes were wild and his brown hands trembled as -he lifted them now and then in an aimless fashion to his ghastly, set -face. - -“A murderer!” he muttered, in a strained voice. “Twice a murderer! I -never thought of it in that light the other time.” - -He stopped in front of the mirror and gazed fixedly at the reflection -of his strangely altered face. - -“What are you made of?” he whispered hoarsely--“what can you be made -of to do the things you’ve done and not to care? Is there no soul, no -conscience--nothing to make you care?” - -He turned away from the glass, laughing harshly. - -“Nothing there--nothing but a horrible face!” - -Then fear seemed to grip him and drive remorse away. - -“They’ve sent for the police!” he gasped wildly. “They’ll be here -soon and drag me away. The jail, a barred cell, the courtroom full -of scornful, grinning faces that were once my friends! And then--and -then--perhaps, the electric chair!” - -His voice sank to a vibrant whisper, and at the last words he caught at -his collar like one choking. - -“I can’t stand it!” he muttered. “I’m--afraid!” - -Suddenly he stood erect and listened. Some one was coming upstairs. He -crouched by the window, his white face turned breathlessly toward the -door. Now they were coming down the hall. Another moment the key would -turn, the door would open, and they would drag him away to prison. He -shuddered. - -“I can’t stand it,” he muttered--“I won’t stand it!” - -Summoning all his resolution, he slipped through the window and hung by -both hands. As the key clicked in the lock, he dropped to the ground, -staggered, regained his footing with an effort, and then ran across the -drive toward the automobile sheds. - -He did not see Dick Merriwell’s head appear at the window and then -quickly disappear. He did not know that he was flying from his own -salvation. His one desperate thought was to get away. - -He reached his car and, cranking the engine with feverish haste, sprang -into the seat and swiftly backed her out. With a sharp turn, he went -through the gears with a rush and started the car out of the club -grounds at top speed. - -As he dashed by the end of the veranda a yell arose: - -“Stop him! Stop him!” - -Several men ran out, waving their arms, but it was of no avail. He -disappeared down the drive like a streak of light. - -Merriwell, Niles and several others ran back for their cars to give -chase; and as the fellow with the homely face and honest eyes bent to -crank his engine, he shook his head seriously. - -“He’s crazy,” he muttered to himself--“clean daffy. If something don’t -happen pretty quick, I miss my guess.” - -It was a long, long time before the jolly, happy-go-lucky Niles could -thrust out of his mind the picture of that face--set, strained, and -ghastly white, the eyes wide open and glittering with a strange light, -the colorless lips parted over the clenched teeth. It was a face which -bore the brand of fear; the face of one going to destruction. - -Stovebridge whirled out of the club gates into the highroad, skidding, -barely missing the ditch; but he did not pull down the speed a hair. -Down the road he went, a blurred streak of red. He must get away. He -would not be caught. - -Presently he turned onto a narrower road which led over the hills into -the more unsettled country. He knew they would follow him, and he meant -to give them a long chase. - -The road wound up hill and down dale, through farming country and -wheat fields, with now and then a stretch of woods or meadow land. Once -he flashed past a farmhouse where a woman stood drawing water from an -old well, and as she caught a fleeting glimpse of his face, she gave a -cry of horror and gazed after the thick cloud of dust, her hand lifted -to her heart. The brand of fear was very plain. - -On went the car like a flying monster. The man was pushing her to the -utmost, and she responded nobly. They were nearing the river which he -meant to cross by an old, unfrequented bridge close beside a deserted -mill. He would fool them all, for few knew of the crossing which cut -off several miles on the way to the wilder country beyond. He had not -been that way himself in many months, but he knew it perfectly. - -Up a steep hill he flew on the high, flashed over the level summit, -and began the rough, winding descent. He was driving recklessly, but -with splendid skill. A little grove of trees blurred past, and then he -reached the river bank. - -Too late he saw that he had blundered. - -The bridge was gone! - -Following a grinding shock of the emergency, the car shot through -the frail protecting timbers at the brink, and, for one brief, awful -instant, seemed to hover in the air above the river. - -With a tremendous splash, it struck the water and sank beneath. - -By some strange freak of chance, Stovebridge had been flung free of the -entangling car, and presently, dazed by the shock, he struggled to the -surface and strove to reach the shore. - -But the current was very swift, and something seemed to drag him down. -Still he struggled frantically. He must reach it. He did not want to -drown. He was afraid to die, as he had been afraid of many things in -life. - -His arms grew numb and his legs seemed to have no feeling left. If he -could only loosen the weight which dragged him down! It was as though -hands were clutching him and pulling him slowly but inexorably below -the surface. - -Finally into his numbed brain came the thought that they were really -hands--the hands of the child! Ah, well, it was only justice that the -weak fingers of the little one he had murdered should have grown strong -enough to draw him to his destruction. - -He was tired. If he could only give up and cease to try. But he did not -want to face the child down in the deep, cold river. The water washed -over his face and he struggled weakly to raise his head, but could not. -In his ears there was a distant roaring which grew louder and louder. -The dragging hands were very heavy. Why not stop battling and let it -go? Life was not worth the effort. His arms dropped feebly and a sense -of infinite rest and peace stole over him. - -The roaring ceased. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE YOUNG MAN IN TROUBLE. - - -When Dick and his friends left the Clover County Club, to continue -their trip, Forest Hills was their next scheduled stopping place. - -“Try the Burlington,” said Roger Clingwood, as he bade the party -good-by; “the restaurant is the best in the place.” - -Following Clingwood’s advice Dick and his friends had gone at once to -the Burlington, and after removing the stains of travel, sought the -dining room. - -As the head waiter spied them, he conducted them to a round table near -one of the open windows and drew out the chairs with a flourish. - -As soon as they were seated, Tucker reached for the menu. - -“Well, let’s get this struggle over with,” he remarked, as he ran his -eye down it. “I eat from a sense of duty. Hotels must be supported. -Mere grub is repugnant to me, but I have to go through the motions.” - -Buckhart looked at Dick and lowered one eyelid. - -“Catch on to his order, pard,” he murmured. - -At that moment the waiter approached with pad and pencil. - -“What are you going to have, Tommy?” Dick asked. “Don’t torture -yourself too severely.” - -The little fellow’s brows were knitted in deep thought. - -“H’m! A little _consommé_ to start with, I think. That ought to taste -pretty good on a warm day like this. Then--let me see. A _filet mignon_ -sounds right. Potatoes come with it, I suppose?” - -“Yes, sir,” nodded the waiter. - -“Lima beans and green corn will do for the other vegetables. Follow -that with a lettuce salad; and, for dessert, sliced peaches with a -portion of vanilla ice cream. That’s about all, except that I want a -pot of coffee with cream brought with the filet.” - -He sat back in his chair and unfolded his napkin with an air of much -satisfaction. - -“Looks like you got a rake off from the management,” the Texan grinned. - -“Aren’t you the real clever thing to guess it,” returned Tucker. “How -else do you suppose I make expenses? These hotel proprietors are only -too glad to give a little bonus to a good-looking chap like me. Gives -tone to the establishment, you know.” - -Merriwell gave his order and then, sitting back, glanced casually -around the room. It was well-filled with the usual crowd of business -men, among whom were a few ladies in light summer dresses, and a -pleasant air of refinement pervaded the establishment. - -Presently Dick noticed a party of three young fellows who were lunching -at a table in the centre of the room. One of them faced him--a -pleasant-looking, well set up man of about twenty-two, with clean-cut -features and curly, brown hair; and, as the Yale man glanced at him, he -hastily averted his eyes as if he had been staring. - -“I suppose there isn’t any chance of going through the mine this -afternoon,” Dick remarked, turning back to his friends. “Clingwood -said the morning was the best time. We can put in the rest of -the day looking the town over, and after dinner I’ll hunt up -the superintendent, Orren Fairchilds, and give him that card of -introduction.” - -“I think I’ll take a rest,” yawned Bigelow. “The roads were awful this -morning. I’m black and blue all over from being jounced around.” - -“Hear him talk!” jeered Tucker. “He’s so packed with blubber, you’d -have to jab something into him a good two inches before he could feel -it.” - -Dick glanced over at the other table again and met the curly haired -fellow’s eyes fixed squarely on him. One of his companions had half -turned and was also regarding the Yale man intently. - -“They’re certainly going to know me the next time they see me,” he -thought. “I wonder if I have ever met them before.” - -He decided that he had not. Endowed with an extraordinary memory, he -never forgot a face, and those two were totally strange. - -The next moment he was surprised to see the brown-haired man rise from -his table and come across the room toward him. - -“I beg your pardon,” he said, pausing beside Dick’s chair; “but isn’t -your name Merriwell--Dick Merriwell?” - -There was a slightly puzzled look on Dick’s face. - -“It is,” he answered. “But I don’t remember----” - -“No, of course you don’t,” the other interrupted with an embarrassed -smile. “You’ve never laid eyes on me before; but I’ve seen Merriwell -pitch several times, and the minute you came into the room I was sure -you were he.” - -He hesitated for an instant, and Dick waited quietly for him to -continue. - -“I’m the captain of the Field Club nine here in Forest Hills,” the tall -fellow went on presently. “Our big game--the game of the season--is -scheduled for to-morrow, and our battery is beastly weak, especially -Morrison, the pitcher. I thought--I wondered whether it would be -possible for you to come out to the grounds this afternoon and give us -a pointer or two. I--I know I’ve got nerve, but that game means a lot -to us. My name is Gardiner--Glen Gardiner.” - -Merriwell’s heart warmed to this frank, pleasant-voiced young fellow, -who was so obviously embarrassed at the favor he had ventured to ask; -and, as Gardiner finished speaking, the Yale man rose quickly to his -feet and held out his hand. - -“I’m very glad to meet you, Mr. Gardiner,” he said heartily. “You’re -not nervy at all. I shall be delighted to help you in any way I can. We -were just wondering how we could put in the afternoon. I’d like you to -meet my friends, Brad Buckhart, Tommy Tucker, and Bouncer Bigelow.” - -Gardiner’s face glowed with pleasure as he shook the Texan’s hand. - -“I’ve seen Mr. Buckhart before,” he said quickly; “and I’m very happy -to meet you all. You have no idea, Mr. Merriwell, how much I’ll -appreciate your coming out and coaching us.” - -“Better wait until you’ve seen how I can coach before you thank me,” -Dick smiled. “Won’t you bring your friends over and lunch with us? -There’s room enough at this table, and we can get some more chairs.” - -“Thank you very much, but we’ve just finished,” Gardiner said. “I know -they’d be awfully pleased, though, to sit here while you eat yours.” - -He went back to his own table and returned with the two men, whom he -introduced as Ralph Maxwell and Stanley Garrick. The former played -shortstop on the nine and was short and wiry, with red hair and -freckles. He was not unlike Tucker in looks and manner, and the two -took to each other at once. Garrick, who played second, was tall and -rather ungainly, with a noticeable deliberation of speech and manner. -To the casual observer, he seemed slow and clumsy, but on the diamond -he was anything but that. - -They were both delighted to meet the Yale men, and, drawing up some -chairs, made themselves comfortable while the latter began on the -luncheon which had just appeared. - -“Who is it you play to-morrow?” Dick asked, as he took up his knife and -fork. - -“The Mispah team--the mine boys,” exclaimed Gardiner. “They’ve got a -crackajack nine this year and have licked everything they’ve been up -against, so far. We have a pretty good organization ourselves, and -we’ve won every game we’ve played. So you can see that it will be -a hard fight from start to finish. If we win, we’ll hold the state -championship.” - -Dick nodded. - -“I see; but how does it come that these mine fellows are so good? They -don’t generally amount to much at scientific baseball.” - -“It’s on account of Orren Fairchilds, one of the mine owners,” Gardiner -answered. “Perhaps you’ve heard of him?” - -“Yes, I have. But I didn’t know he was one of the owners. I thought he -was the superintendent.” - -“He’s both. He also happens to be one of the greatest baseball -enthusiasts in the country. Before he went into mining, he played on -one of the big-league teams, and he’s still a crank over the game. He -got together the most promising of the young fellows in the mine and -practically taught them the game from start to finish--spent months -coaching each man separately and the whole nine together. He hardly ate -or slept during that time, and, as a result, he’s got a crowd that he -boasts can lick anything in the country outside the big leagues.” - -“He must be all to the good,” Dick said, smiling. “He’s a man after my -own heart, and I shall be much interested in meeting him to-night.” - -“You have an appointment?” queried Gardiner. - -“No; a card of introduction from a mutual friend,” Merriwell returned. -“We are anxious to go through the mine to-morrow, if possible.” - -“You’d better be at his house before seven to-night, then,” Gardiner -said. “He has dinner at half-past six, and the minute he’s through he -goes up to the diamond he’s laid out near the mine, where the boys -practice until dark.” - -“Much obliged for the advice,” Dick smiled. “I’ll be there on the dot; -for our only reason for coming to Forest Hills was to see the mine.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -A DISGRUNTLED PITCHER. - - -“What seems to be the matter with this pitcher of yours?” Merriwell -asked a little later. - -“Poor control,” Gardiner answered briefly. “He’s got excellent curves, -but he’s wild. Some days he is fine, especially if we have things our -own way from the start. But let the other side get a few hits off him -to begin with, and he seems to go all to pieces.” - -Dick took out his pocketbook, and selecting a bill, handed it to the -waiter. - -“That’s a bad fault,” he commented. “Curves are no earthly use unless a -man can control them. Does he use his head?” - -Gardiner hesitated a moment. - -“Well--sometimes,” he said slowly. “I hate to knock a man, especially -a fellow I don’t like, but you can’t very well help us much unless you -know all about him. Morrison’s great trouble is a case of abnormally -swelled head. Up to a month ago we had another pitcher we could fall -back on. He didn’t have many fancy stunts, but he was steady, and in -the long run he made a better record than Morrison. But he had to leave -town, and since then Edgar seems to have the idea that he’s the whole -team and that we can’t get along without him. He’s a great masher, -and when he’s on the slab he spends more time thinking how he can -make a hit with the girls in the grand stand than in preventing the -batters from making a hit in the box. We’ve had several run-ins on that -account, but there’s no reasoning with a fellow like that. I freely -confess that, personally, I don’t like him; but I hope that fact hasn’t -made me unfair.” - -He looked questioningly at Ralph Maxwell. - -“It hasn’t,” the latter declared quickly. “You haven’t been hard enough -on him. The fellow doesn’t make any pretense at training. There’s -hardly a night that he isn’t to be found at Dolan’s Café on Front -Street. I don’t mean that he gets jagged, but he certainly drinks and -smokes a lot there; and you can’t tell me that a fellow can play good -ball when he spends his time that way.” - -Dick picked up his change from the silver tray the waiter had just laid -in front of him, and they all arose and started for the door. - -“You’re up against a hard proposition,” said Merriwell. “It’s always -difficult to do anything with a man like that. They usually resent -advice and never by any chance follow it. How is your catcher?” - -“Fine!” declared Gardiner enthusiastically. “Burgess is a great pal of -Morrison, but he’s all to the good. More than once he has pulled Edgar -out of a hole and saved the day.” - -“A good catcher is worth his weight in gold,” Merriwell said, with a -sidelong glance at Buckhart, who appeared deaf. - -“Let’s go out this way,” he went on. “I thought we would use the car -this afternoon, so I left it at the side entrance.” - -As they went down the steps, Maxwell and Garrick started to walk away. - -“See you on the field,” the former called back. - -“Hold on,” Dick said quickly. “Aren’t you going right over there?” - -“Yes; but----” - -“Well, come along with us, then,” the Yale man invited, as he slipped -in the coil plug. “There’s room enough for everybody, if you don’t mind -crowding.” - -The two fellows came back and squeezed into the tonneau with Tucker -and Bigelow, who had given up his idea of taking a nap. Dick cranked -the engine and took his seat at the wheel, Gardiner beside him. The -Texan sat on the side of the car with his feet hanging out. - -The Field Club was situated in the residential part of town and covered -a good deal of ground. Besides the diamond, there was a good nine-hole -golf course, excellent tennis courts, and a simple, attractive and -well-arranged clubhouse. This last was built at one side of the -diamond, so that the club members could enjoy the game from the wide -veranda, which completely surrounded the house, quite as well as the -spectators in the grand stand. - -Under Gardiner’s direction, Dick drove the _Wizard_ through the -entrance and up to the veranda, where a number of young fellows in -baseball suits were congregated. - -“Hello, Glen,” one of them called out, as the party came up the steps. -“We’d about given you up. Thought you were lost, or something.” - -“It’s about time you showed up,” another said rather sharply. “Practice -ought to have begun half an hour ago. I’ve got a date at five o’clock, -which I propose to keep.” - -He was a tall, dark, rather good-looking fellow, who was evidently -quite aware of the fact, and as he spoke his full, red lips were curved -in a slight sneer. - -Gardiner flushed a little at the other’s tone, but otherwise paid no -attention to it. - -“I know that, Morrison,” he said pleasantly; “but I guess we can make -up the lost time. Fellows, I want you to meet Dick Merriwell, the -famous Yale pitcher, who has been so good as to say he’d coach us a -little for the game to-morrow.” - -A suspicious gleam flashed into Morrison’s eyes as he extended a -languid hand. - -“Glad to meet you,” he drawled. “Merriwell, did you say? You go to -Yale, do you?” - -This assumption of ignorance was affectation, pure and simple. The -Forest Hills pitcher knew perfectly well who Dick Merriwell was, but he -thought it might irritate the Yale man if he pretended never to have -heard of him. - -It had, however, no such effect. - -“Yes, I happen to,” Dick said good-naturedly, as he shook the fellow’s -hand, and turned to meet the other men. - -“You fellows go ahead and start practice,” Gardiner said, when the -introductions were complete. “I’ll slip into my clothes and be with you -in half a jiffy.” - -He disappeared into the clubhouse, and the others left the veranda and -walked out to the diamond. Merriwell was chatting with the catcher, -George Burgess, a short, stout heavily built fellow with a good-humored -face and small, twinkling eyes. - -“Gardiner tells me you’re up against a hard proposition to-morrow,” the -Yale man remarked. - -“Yes, the mine boys are a tough crowd to beat,” Burgess returned. “But -I guess we can do it.” - -He slipped his mask on and began to buckle his chest protector. - -“Let’s see how your wing is to-day, Edgar,” he called. “One of you -fellows stand up here and be struck out. You’re all ready, Art. Come -ahead.” - -Arthur Dean, a well-built, muscular fellow who played third, picked up -a bat and walked over to the plate. - -Morrison went into the pitcher’s box, a sullen look on his face. - -“I like that fellow Merriwell’s nerve, butting in this way,” he -muttered. “I suppose that fresh Gardiner thinks I need coaching. Well, -he won’t show me very much.” - -He tried an outshoot, and was chagrined when it missed the pan by a -good foot and Burgess had to stir himself to get it. - -“Wild, Morrie--wild,” the stout fellow said, as he tossed the ball back. - -Morrison bit his lips. The next ball was high. It held no speed, but it -passed so far above Dean’s head that Burgess was forced to stretch his -arms at full length in order to pull it down. - -He shook his head as he snapped it back. - -Then the pitcher sent a speedy one straight over the pan, and Dean -cracked out a clean single toward right field. - -Gardiner appeared in time to see this performance, and, though he said -nothing, his face wore an anxious frown. - -“I think I’ll get out where I can see his delivery better,” Dick said, -as the captain approached. - -“I wish you would,” Gardiner returned in a low voice. “He’s pretty -wild, isn’t he?” - -Merriwell nodded and walked out on the diamond, taking a position -behind Morrison, who had just received the ball from the field. - -“Now, Reddy, get up to the plate and see what you can do,” Gardiner -directed. “See if you can’t strike him out, Morrie.” - -“He can’t do it,” grinned Maxwell, taking a firm grip on his bat. “Bet -you can’t fan me, Edgar, old boy.” - -Morrison flushed a little as he toed the plate, his eyes fixed on -Burgess. - -The catcher signaled for an incurve, and the next moment Maxwell dodged -back to avoid being hit by the ball. - -“I don’t want a present of the base, thank you,” he laughed. “Try -again, Morrie.” - -Morrison scowled and whipped a swift shoot, which was entirely too -high. The following two balls were equally wild, and the red-headed -chap tossed his bat to the ground with a grin. - -“Told you that you couldn’t,” he said triumphantly. - -The lanky Garrick took his place, and, after giving him three balls, -the pitcher sent one straight over the pan, which Garrick promptly -swung at and laced out a hot two-bagger. - -“What’s the matter with you, Morrison?” Gardiner said sharply. “What’s -the good of curves if you can’t get them over? You’ve got to take a -brace pretty soon, or we might as well make the Mispahs a present of -the game.” - -The pitcher’s face darkened and he controlled himself with an effort. - -“There’s no use killing yourself at practice,” he said, with affected -nonchalance. “I’ll be all right in the game.” - -“I shouldn’t like to bank on it,” Gardiner retorted, with some heat. “I -could mention a few games in which you were decidedly _not_ all right. -The trouble with you is that half the time your mind isn’t on what -you’re doing. A fellow can’t pitch and think about something else at -the same time.” - -Morrison flushed hotly. - -“You don’t say so!” he sneered. “Perhaps you’d like your Yale friend to -show me how it’s done. That’s what you brought him here for, isn’t it?” - -Gardiner’s chin squared. - -“I asked him here to coach us all,” he said quietly. “So far, you seem -to be the one to need it the most.” - -Morrison’s eyes flashed and he wheeled suddenly and faced Dick, who was -standing behind him. - -“Perhaps you’ll be so kind as to give us an exhibition of your skill,” -he said ironically, in a voice which trembled with suppressed anger. -“You pitch, I believe?” - -“Occasionally,” Merriwell returned carelessly; “but I doubt whether I -can be of any assistance to you. Your curves and speed seem to be all -right. A man can only acquire good control by constant practice and -unremitting attention to the game.” - -The ball came bounding across the diamond from the field, and leaning -over, Morrison scooped it up and tossed it to the Yale man. - -“Sounds good,” he sneered. “Just show us a few.” - -He folded his arms, an ugly look on his face, and stepped back, while -Dick took off his coat and rolled up his right sleeve, exposing an arm -of such perfect development that even the man whose place he had taken -could not suppress a feeling of envious admiration. - -Gardiner picked up a bat and stepped to the plate; the catcher crouched -and gave a signal, which Dick recognized as the call for a drop. As the -ball left Merriwell’s fingers, it seemed that it would pass above the -first baseman’s shoulders. Too late the latter saw it take a sudden -downward shoot and plunk into the catcher’s big mitt. - -“Gee! that’s a dandy,” Gardiner exclaimed, as Burgess tossed the ball -back. - -The next one was a beautiful outcurve which cut the corner of the -plate, though the batter had not thought it possible for the ball to -pass over any part of the pan. He planted his feet firmly, a little -frown on his face. Though he knew Merriwell was giving Morrison an -object lesson, he did not propose to be fanned by the Yale man if he -could help it. - -Dick placed his feet and rose on his toes for a moment. Backward he -swung, poised upon one pin, his left foot lifted high above the ground. -Forward he threw his body with a broad, sharp swing of his arm, and -the ball came sizzling over the inside corner of the rubber, Gardiner -missing cleanly. - -A murmur of astonishment and admiration went up from the little group -which stood near the plate. To have their heaviest hitter struck out by -the first three balls pitched was something the members of the Forest -Hills nine had never expected to see. Gardiner threw down his bat with -a little grimace of disgust. - -“That’s some pitching,” he said. “I haven’t had that happen to me in -many moons. Now, Edgar, suppose you see what you can do.” - -But Morrison was walking rapidly toward him from the pitcher’s box, his -hands clenched and his face dark. - -“You can’t make a monkey out of me,” he snarled. “I’m through.” - -Gardiner looked at him in amazement. - -“Do you mean you won’t pitch to-morrow?” he asked. - -“Neither to-morrow nor any other day,” snapped Morrison. “Nothing would -hire me to pitch on this team after the dirty trick you’ve played -bringing a fellow in to make a show of me. Think I’m a fool?” - -Gardiner flushed hotly. - -“Nobody could make a fool of you,” he said, with sarcastic emphasis. -“You seem to have been born that way.” - -The angry man disdained any reply. - -“Any of my friends will have to choose now between Gardiner and me,” -he went on furiously. “If they prefer playing on his team, well and -good; but at that moment they cease to be my friends. Understand?” - -He cast a significant glance at George Burgess, and, turning on his -heel, walked rapidly toward the clubhouse. - -Burgess hesitated for an instant and, with a shrug of his shoulders, -slowly unbuckled his chest protector and threw it on the ground, -together with his mask and mitt. Then he followed Morrison. - -The flush had died out of Gardiner’s face, leaving it a little pale. -His eyes traveled slowly over the faces of the remaining men. - -“Well,” he said quietly, “any more?” - -Unconsciously, perhaps, he looked at Roland Hewett, the centre fielder, -a slim, fastidious fellow with thin, blond hair and pale blue eyes, -whom he knew was another friend of the deserting pitcher. There was a -worried, undecided look on his weak face. - -“I don’t know----” he stammered. “I--I believe I’ll go and see if he -really meant what he said.” - -Then he, too, left the group on the diamond and presently disappeared -into the clubhouse. - -For a moment no one spoke. Then Reddy Maxwell broke the silence. - -“Well, fellows,” he said, with forced cheerfulness, “I should say that -the team is better off without a bunch that will desert it at a time -like this.” - -“But how the deuce are we going to fill their places?” Irving Renworth, -the right fielder, asked apprehensively. - -“By Jove, fellows. I’m sorry!” Gardiner broke in contritely. “It’s all -my fault. I shouldn’t have talked that way to Morrison, knowing how -touchy he is.” - -“Oh, cut that, Glen,” Maxwell said quickly. “It would take a wooden -man to stand Morrie’s nasty, sneering way without answering back. I’m -glad he’s gone, though I am surprised at Burgess backing him up.” - -“Yes, don’t worry, Glen,” Garrick said in his deliberate manner. “It -wasn’t your fault. We’ll have to make the best of it, and look around -for some one else.” - -The captain ran his fingers despairingly through his thick brown hair. - -“We can fill Hewett’s place all right, and we might find a catcher,” he -groaned. “But how in the world do you expect to get hold of a pitcher -in less than twenty-four hours, when I’ve tried in vain to do that very -thing ever since Smith left us a month ago?” - -A hand clapped him on the back, and the big Texan’s hearty voice -sounded in his ears. - -“Brace up, bucko! You don’t seem to be wise to the fact that you’ve got -a battery complete right on the ground; and, in the field, Tucker can -knock spots out of that quitter. You hear me gently warble!” - -Gardiner turned swiftly as though he could scarcely believe his senses. - -“What?” he exclaimed. “You mean that you would----” - -“That’s sure what I’m trying to express,” Buckhart grinned. “Seeing as -we’re someways responsible for that bunch going on strike, it’ll only -square things up if we take their places. How about it, pard?” - -“Of course, we’ll play,” Dick said quickly, “if they want us to.” - -A sudden smile flashed into the first baseman’s face. - -“Want you!” he cried. “Well, I guess yes! Only I should never have -dared suggest such a thing. Talk about luck! Why, this is the best -thing that could have happened. We’ll give the mine boys the surprise -of their lives, and a minute ago I was thinking of throwing up the -game. Gee! I can hardly believe it’s true.” - -Dick looked at his watch. - -“We’ve got a couple of hours yet which we may as well put in practicing -a little, don’t you think?” he remarked. “That is, if you can supply us -with togs.” - -“Sure thing,” Gardiner returned. “Come in to the house and I’ll fit you -fellows out.” - -It was amazing how quickly the anxious, worried looks on the faces of -the Forest Hills boys were replaced by grins of joy, as they realized -their good luck. A few minutes later they were dashing about the field -after flies, scooping up hot liners, or taking turns at the bat with an -enthusiasm and vim which was a marked contrast to the demeanor they had -displayed earlier in the afternoon. - -Merriwell became so interested in the practice that he delayed longer -than he had intended. The result was that he had barely time for a -hasty shower in the dressing rooms of the club, which was followed by a -dash back to the hotel where he swallowed his dinner at a speed which -was ruinous to his digestion. Even at that, it lacked only five minutes -of seven when the turned into the drive and stopped the _Wizard_ at the -entrance of Orren Fairchilds’ costly and beautiful residence, in the -most exclusive section of Forest Hills. - -“Doesn’t look much like the home of a man who cares for nothing but -business and baseball,” he thought, as he ran up the marble steps and -pushed the electric button. - -The door was promptly opened by an impressive butler, who ushered the -Yale man into the drawing room. - -“Mr. Fairchilds is at dinner,” he announced, “but he will be through -directly.” - -Dick took out the card on which Roger Clingwood had written simply, -“Introducing Richard Merriwell, of Yale,” and handed it to the man. - -“Will you give this to him when he has finished,” he requested. - -“Very good, sir,” returned the butler. “Will you be seated, sir.” - -He took the card and disappeared, while Merriwell dropped into a chair -and glanced around the great room, which was furnished richly, but in -perfect taste. - -The next moment some curtains at the other end were thrust violently -aside and a man entered hurriedly. - -“Dick Merriwell, as I live!” he exclaimed, advancing with outstretched -hand. “You haven’t changed a particle since I saw you twirl years ago -at New Haven. Jove, that was a game! My boy, I’m very glad to meet you.” - -He was short and slim, with a brisk manner and springy walk. His thin -hair and heavier moustache were slightly tinged with gray; nevertheless -he certainly was not much over thirty-seven or eight, and with his -healthy brown skin and alert, twinkling brown eyes, he did not appear -even that. Dick took an instant liking for him as he shook his hand -heartily. - -“I hope I haven’t interrupted your dinner,” he said. “They told me you -had it early.” - -“Not at all, not at all,” returned the mine owner briskly. “I do have -it early. I always make a point of attending the evening practice of -my team. Have you seen Clingwood lately? I haven’t laid eyes on him in -over a year. Does he still play golf?” - -Merriwell smiled at the half-contemptuous tone in which he brought out -the last word. - -“Yes, he’s an enthusiast. Says there is no game like it.” - -“Bah!” snorted Fairchilds. “An old woman’s game. That’s the only fault -I have to find with Clingwood--he doesn’t like baseball. How any sane, -healthy man can stand up and say he isn’t interested in the greatest -game on earth--the only game, to my mind, that’s worth the time and -trouble that’s spent on it--I can’t understand.” - -“I hear you’ve got a great team up at the mine,” Dick remarked. - -The little man’s eyes sparkled. - -“We have--a dandy team,” he said enthusiastically. “They’ve wiped up -the diamond with everything they’ve met this year, and to-morrow I -expect them to win the game of the season with the Field Club nine. Of -course, you’ll be on hand for that?” - -Merriwell nodded with a smile. He expected to be very much on hand. - -“Say, why can’t you come up to the field with me now and watch the boys -practice?” the mine owner said suddenly. “You’ll see some work that -will surprise you, considering that six months ago the boys knew very -little about the game. Come along; my car’s waiting outside now.” - -He rose quickly to his feet. - -“I think I’d better not, Mr. Fairchilds,” Dick returned quietly, as he -faced him. “You see, I’ve promised to pitch for the Forest Hills team -to-morrow.” - -The sharp little eyes of the older man fairly bulged out with surprise. - -“You’ve what?” he exclaimed. - -“I’ve promised to pitch for the Field Club fellows,” the Yale man -smiled. “Morrison, their pitcher, and his friend, George Burgess, left -the team in a huff this afternoon. Gardiner asked me to come out and -give Morrison a few points, and the fellow, getting mad at what he was -pleased to call my interference, quit, taking the catcher with him. -Naturally, having been, in a way, responsible, I volunteered to take -his place, and my chum will catch.” - -The mine owner dropped back upon his chair. - -“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” he exclaimed. - -“I hope you don’t disapprove,” Dick said quickly. - -“Disapprove! No, of course not. It will make the game all the more -interesting. I never did like that fellow, Morrison, and he can’t pitch -for sour apples. But I must get up and tell the boys about this. We’ll -have to get in all the practice we can to-night. I don’t feel quite so -cocksure of winning as I did a few moments ago.” - -He stood up quickly and started for the door, the Yale man at his side. -In the hall he took his hat from the butler, and then stopped suddenly -and looked at Dick. - -“I reckon my wife must be right,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “She -says I haven’t got an idea in my head but baseball. Here I’m running -off without ever asking you what I could do for you. You must have had -a reason for coming.” - -Merriwell smiled. - -“I did have a favor to ask,” he said. “I am very anxious to go through -the mine with three friends, if it’s possible.” - -“Why, certainly,” the older man returned briskly. “Delighted to have -you. Come up to the offices to-morrow about nine, and you’ll find me -there. Will that time suit you?” - -“Perfectly,” Dick answered. “And I’m sorry to have taken so much of -your time to-night.” - -The mine owner laughed. - -“I’m right glad you did,” he said, as they went down the steps. “You’ve -given me some valuable information.” - -He paused and looked at Dick shrewdly. - -“I only wish I’d seen you pitch inside of two years. I expect you’ve -developed a lot of new tricks in that time.” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” the Yale man smiled. - -Orren Fairchilds sprang into a big gray car which stood near the steps, -while Dick hurried forward to get the _Wizard_ out of the way. He -sprang into his seat and started the engine, which was still warm, and -as he did so, he heard the voice of the older man behind him. - -“Just the same, my boy, don’t think you’ve got a cinch, to-morrow. Good -night.” - -“Good night,” Merriwell called back. - -The _Wizard_ shot down the drive and into the street, with the gray -car close behind. Dick waved his hand in response to a salute from -the other man, who turned in the opposite direction and quickly -disappeared. Merriwell drove slowly back toward the hotel. - -He was much taken with the enthusiastic mine owner, whose simple, -straightforward manner was a pleasant contrast to the airs affected by -some wealthy men he had met. - -“You’d never imagine, to look at him, that he was burdened with -overmuch coin,” the Yale man thought. “Yet Gardiner says that he and -his brother are sole owners of the mine, and must have four or five -million a piece. He certainly is a baseball crank, and yet I should -think it would be great fun, if a fellow had plenty of money, to see -how good a team you could make out of ordinary material.” - -The Fairchilds’ place was situated at the extreme limits of the city, -and, as Merriwell passed through the residential section, he drove -slowly in order to observe some of the houses and well-kept grounds -along the street. - -Suddenly he heard a stifled cry from the sidewalk, causing him to -swerve in toward the curb and slow down to a crawl. The next moment he -saw a young girl trying to free herself from the grasp of a man, and -instantly he jammed on the brake and sprang out of the car. - -“Let me go!” cried the girl. “Take your hands off me!” - -Her face was flushed and her eyes wide with fright as she strove to -shake the fellow’s hand from her arm. Then she caught sight of Dick. - -“Oh!” she exclaimed quickly. “I’m so frightened. Won’t you please make -him go away.” - -Almost before the words were out of her mouth, the Yale man sprang -forward and, catching the man’s wrist in a grip of iron, tore it from -the girl’s arm and sent him reeling against the fence. - -Then, to his amazement, he recognized the scowling face of Edgar -Morrison, the Field Club pitcher. - -“Curse you!” snarled the fellow, advancing with a threatening gesture. -“Butting in again, are you? I’ll teach you to mind your own business!” - -Dick laughed lightly. - -“Come right along.” he said quietly. “I’m always ready to learn, even -from a cur like you.” - -With a furious oath, Morrison lunged forward and attempted to hit -Merriwell; but his blow was parried, and he received a return punch -that sent him reeling. - -Uttering a frightened cry, the girl turned and fled down the street. - -Morrison was back at Dick in an instant, fairly foaming with rage. He -had quite a reputation in Forest Hills as a fist-fighter, and when he -kept his head he could put up a good, scientific scrap. The Yale man -found no difficulty, however, in parrying his furious, savage lunges, -and presently he got in a straight uppercut on the fellow’s chin which -sent him to the ground with a crash. - -Dick stood over the man, waiting for him to rise. - -“Anything more you’d like to teach me?” he asked quietly, as Morrison -staggered to his feet and stood swaying, one hand lifted to his chin. - -For a moment the other did not speak. Though his ardor for fighting -seemed to have cooled considerably, his rage was apparently unabated, -and mingled with it there was a look of unutterable hate in the fierce -dark eyes, which were fixed on the contemptuous face of the Yale man. - -“Not here--not now,” he muttered. “But I’ll teach you a lesson some day -that you won’t forget in a hurry, curse you! I’ll get even with you -yet.” - -With a shrug of his shoulder, Dick walked over to the car. - -“You’ll have to be quick about it,” he said, as he took his seat at the -wheel. “I don’t propose spending much more time in this town of yours.” - -He started to let in the clutch, and then suddenly half turned in his -seat, looking Morrison straight in the eyes. - -“One thing more,” he said in a low, cold tone, which held a decidedly -threatening undercurrent. “If I catch you annoying that girl again, or -any other woman, I’ll take great pleasure handing you another bunch of -fives. Understand?” - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -IN DOLAN’S CAFÉ. - - -Morrison watched the car disappear down the street, and clenching his -fist, shook it fiercely in the air. - -“I’ll get even with you yet, you meddling fool!” he rasped. - -He took out his handkerchief and pressed it to his bleeding chin. It -was not a bad cut, but the humiliation, of being knocked down in a -public thoroughfare by almost the first blow struck, ate into his very -soul and made him grind his teeth in a blind, bitter rage. - -To have suffered at the hands of Dick Merriwell added fuel to the blaze -of his resentment. The happenings of that afternoon had made him hate -the Yale man almost as much as he did Gardiner, whom he had always -disliked, but he had come out of that affair with flying colors. He -had crippled the Forest Hills team so that they would stand no show -whatever against the mine boys; likely they would have to forfeit the -game for it would be impossible for them to find both pitcher and -catcher at so short a notice and his heart rejoiced at having evened up -his score with Gardiner at last. - -But on the heels of that triumph came this new disgrace, the very -thought of which made him clench his teeth and long fiercely to have -that Yale upstart at his mercy, somewhere, somehow, so that he could -pound the fellow until his arms were tired. - -He had no desire to stand up against Merriwell in a fair fight. Wild -with rage as he had been, Morrison realized that the Yale man had -enough science to handle him with one hand. But he would give almost -everything he possessed to get even with Merriwell in some perfectly -safe way, which carried no risk with it. Of that sort of stuff was the -former pitcher of the Forest Hills team. - -He was aroused by the sound of footsteps and, glancing up, saw several -men coming toward him. He did not linger, but hurrying to the near-by -corner, dodged into a side street, and made his way swiftly to the car -lines on Woodland Avenue. - -Swinging himself on the rear end of an open car, he sat down in the -shadow. He had intended going directly to Dolan’s Café for a bracer, -but just before the car reached that corner the colored lights of a -drug store caught his eyes, and, leaping off, he went inside. - -Here he got some court-plaster which he applied to the cut on his chin, -explaining to the clerk that he had fallen and struck his face on the -curbing. That done, he started for Dolan’s. - -Almost at the threshold he came face to face with George Burgess and -Roland Hewett, who greeted him warmly. - -“We’ve been looking all over for you, Morrie,” the former said quickly. -“Where the mischief have you been?” - -“Oh, up street a ways,” Morrison returned vaguely. “Let’s go in.” - -They pushed through the swinging doors, passing the bar, and went on -into a large room beyond, which was the distinguishing feature of -Dolan’s. - -The place was long and lofty, with walls and floor of marble, and was -filled with little tables, set around with heavy mission chairs. It was -brightly lit with many electric clusters which brought out in their -full crudity the gaudy decorations and flashy pictures. - -But to the cheap sport of Forest Hills, there was nothing gaudy about -it. It represented to him the very acme of luxury, and night after -night he would spend the evening there, with others of his kind, in -talk and loud-mouthed bragging, smoking cigarettes and stretching to -the utmost limit the time allowance of a five-cent glass of beer. - -For some vague, inscrutable reason he thought that this was manly. He -never seemed to realize what a poor fool he was to waste his short -leisure hours in that foul atmosphere, poisoning his lungs, his -stomach, and his mind at the same time. He never seemed to know that -a man is not valued for his ability to smoke and drink, but for what -he is--for what he has done that is worth while and uplifting in this -world. - -The three fellows sat down at one of the tables, and Morrison touched -the bell. - -“What’s the matter with your chin, Morrie?” Hewett asked curiously, as -he settled himself in his chair. - -The dark-haired fellow raised his hand carelessly to the court-plaster. - -“Oh, that, you mean?” he asked nonchalantly. “I cut myself shaving.” - -The waiter appeared. - -“What’ll you have, fellows?” Morrison went on. “I’m going to take a rye -high ball.” - -“Beer for me.” - -The other two spoke together. - -Burgess took a box of cigarettes from his pocket and passed them -around. They all lit up, and presently the drinks were brought and set -down before them. - -“Have you heard the latest?” Burgess inquired, exhaling a cloud of -smoke. - -“What latest?” asked Morrison. - -“Why, about the team. It didn’t take Gardiner long to fill out places.” - -As Morrison put his glass down on the table, his hand trembled a -little. - -“What do you mean?” he asked slowly. - -Burgess gave a short laugh. - -“He’s got Merriwell to pitch, and that fellow Buckhart to catch.” - -“What?” exploded Morrison. - -His face had paled a little and he looked as if he could not believe -his senses. - -“Yes, that’s straight goods,” Burgess assured. “He’s even filled -Hewett’s place with Tucker, another of that crowd, who, I understand, -has played short on the varsity nine. Not bad for a pick-up, is it?” - -For a moment the former pitcher of the Forest Hills seemed unable to -utter a word. His face purpled and his eyes flashed with rage. The -veins on his forehead stood out like cords. - -Suddenly he burst out in such a frenzied volley of cursing that his two -companions looked at him in astonishment. - -“Say, Morrie, ease up a bit,” cautioned Burgess. “Pretty quick we’ll be -thrown out of here.” - -“Yes, what’s the use of losing your temper that way,” put in Hewett -nervously. “The thing’s done, and it can’t be helped now.” - -Morrison glared at him. - -“Who wouldn’t lose his temper?” he frothed. “You would, if you had a -little more red blood in your veins. It’s enough to drive a man crazy -to have this upstart from Yale step in and get all the credit after -I’ve pitched the whole season and done all the hard work.” - -“Now, look here, Morrie,” George Burgess said sharply, “there’s no -sense in cussing Merriwell that way. He’s no more to blame than I am. -After you had stepped out it was only decent for him to volunteer to -take your place, especially when Gardiner’s bringing him out to the -field started the whole row.” - -Morrison took a gulp from his high ball and set down the glass with -such violence that some of the liquid slopped over on the table. - -“Oh, so you’re going back on me, are you?” he sneered. “Maybe you’d -like to boot-lick Gardiner and get back on the team.” - -The stout fellow flushed a little and a dangerous look came into his -small eyes. - -“That will about do for you,” he said in a tone of suppressed anger. -“You know I’m no quitter.” - -Several men entered the room at that moment, and, as Morrison’s eyes -fell on one of them, he calmed down suddenly. - -“There’s Bill McDonough,” he said in a low tone. - -Burgess nodded. - -“So I see. I wonder what he’s doing here. Old Fairchilds is daffy about -close training.” - -The man to whom they referred seated himself at a table near them and -ordered vichy. Apparently one of his companions joked him about the -drink, for he grinned broadly, showing a gaping hole in his upper jaw -where two front teeth were missing. - -“You betcher life it won’t be that ter-morrow night,” he said loudly. -“After we’ve wiped up the ground with them dudes, training is broke, -and it’s me for the beer can. Gee! I wisht I could have a schooner -ter-night. I got a thirst a yard long.” - -He was a big, burly, rough-looking fellow, with a bull neck and -amazingly long arms. A jagged scar, running from the edge of his -close-cropped, stubby hair almost to the corner of his hard mouth, gave -a sinister expression to his unattractive face. It was not the face of -a man one would care about encountering in a lonely place on a dark -night. - -While McDonough did not exactly live up to his tough appearance, there -were yet vague stories afloat concerning him which were not the most -creditable. Nothing had ever been proved against him, but where there’s -smoke, there is usually some fire; and there was a general impression -in Forest Hills that Bill McDonough would allow few things to stand -between him and the accomplishment of a purpose. - -He was one of the foremen at the Mispah Mine, the acknowledged leader -of the mine boys, and the star pitcher on Orren Fairchilds’ baseball -team. - -There was a speculative look in Morrison’s dark eyes as he watched the -fellow drink his vichy at a gulp and then call for more. - -Then a sudden idea flashed into his mind, and he leaned toward his two -companions. - -“Say, fellows,” he whispered, “I’ve a good mind to call Bill over and -tell him about this business of Merriwell’s pitching to-morrow.” - -Burgess frowned a bit. - -“What good will that do?” he asked. - -Morrison hesitated for an instant. - -“Well,” he said significantly, “you know Bill’s reputation. If he -should pick a fight with Merriwell, or do something equally effective, -Gardiner would be minus a pitcher.” - -The stout fellow leaned back in his chair and surveyed his friend -curiously. - -“Sometimes you’re one too many for me, Morrie,” he said slowly. “Where -do you get these ideas, anyhow? Would you really think of doing a thing -like that?” - -Morrison looked a little annoyed. - -“You’re too finicky altogether, George,” he returned. “I shouldn’t be -doing anything out of the way by simply telling McDonough that this -Merriwell is going to take my place in the box to-morrow.” - -“Oh, you know well enough what I mean,” Burgess retorted. “What’s your -object in telling him? Because you hope Bill will do something dirty to -prevent Merriwell’s playing.” - -“I don’t see anything out of the way about it,” put in Hewett. “It -would be an easy way of getting even.” - -The stout chap looked at him contemptuously through narrowed lids. - -“Quite your style, isn’t it?” he inquired. - -Then he turned to Morrison. - -“Go ahead and tell him if you’re set on it,” he said shortly. “But I -wash my hands of the business. I refuse to be mixed up in it.” - -He got up from the table, and, without further words, walked to the -door and disappeared. - -“George is amusing when he throws one of those virtuous bluffs,” he -said sarcastically. - -He glanced over at the other table. - -“Say, Bill--McDonough,” he called. - -The big fellow looked around quickly. - -“Oh, hello, Morrison,” he bellowed. “How’s things?” - -“Come over here a minute, will you? I want to talk to you.” - -“Sure, Mike.” - -McDonough arose and, stepping over to the chair Burgess had just -vacated, plumped himself down. - -“Well, what’s up?” he inquired, with a grin. - -“What’ll you have--vichy?” - -“Sure. I could drink gallons of the stuff without quenching my thirst.” - -Morrison beckoned to a waiter and ordered a siphon of vichy, then he -leaned forward with his elbows on the table and surveyed the hulking -giant before him. - -“I just wanted to give you a little point about the game to-morrow,” -he said significantly. “Do you know who’s going to pitch?” - -“Sure,” grinned McDonough. “Some guy from Yale College.” - -Morrison’s jaw dropped. - -“Who told you?” he gasped in astonishment. - -“Why, the old man. Who else do you s’pose would?” - -“The old man!” Morrison exclaimed in bewilderment. “Fairchilds, you -mean? How the deuce did he find out?” - -“Give it up. Told us to-night when he come up for practice.” - -Morrison was silent for a moment. - -“You take it pretty calmly,” he said presently, a morose scowl on his -face. - -“Why shouldn’t I?” demanded McDonough. “The old man said he was a -crackajack, but I guess he won’t get much on yours truly.” - -Morrison threw back his head and laughed, long and loud. - -“Say, you’re pretty cocky, Bill, aren’t you?” he inquired. “I suppose -you think there isn’t a man living that can strike you out. Did you -know that this Merriwell is the best amateur pitcher and all-around -baseball player in the country. The managers of the big-league teams -have had their eyes on him ever since he entered Yale. He could get any -price he wanted this minute, if he’d go into professional ball. Why, -you’ll be easy fruit. He’ll make pie of you and your whole team. There -won’t be any pieces left to pick up. He’ll make a holy show of you -to-morrow unless----” - -He hesitated, his eyes fixed curiously on the big man’s face, which -during that short speech had mirrored a variety of emotions that were -passing through the man’s mind. Incredulity, surprise, amazement, -uneasiness, and consternation flitted rapidly across it and finally -gave place to a sinister look of rage which was not prepossessing. - -“Say, what yer giving us?” he said hoarsely. - -“The truth,” Morrison returned simply. “He’s all I said he was, and -more.” - -Taking out his cigarette case, he selected a cigarette, passing the -case to Hewett. Lighting up, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes -fixed keenly on McDonough’s face. - -The big man was staring absently at the table, his heavy brows drawn -together in a black scowl. With one square, callous forefinger he -traced a pattern with some vichy which had spilled on the polished -surface. All at once he raised his head and looked fixedly at Morrison, -who gave a slight start at the expression he saw in those sullen orbs. - -“Unless--what?” demanded McDonough in a suppressed tone. - -Morrison hesitated. - -“Unless--well, there’re plenty of ways to stop a man from playing -baseball,” he finished lightly. - -For a full minute the two looked at each other in silence. It seemed -that something was passing from one mind to the other. Then the big -fellow arose slowly to his feet. - -“Much obliged,” he said shortly. - -Without another word he returned to his table, and a moment later -Morrison and Hewett passed out through the bar and into the street. - -“I--think--I’ll go home,” stammered the latter. “It’s getting late.” - -His weak face was a little pale and his hands shook nervously. - -“Well, so-long, Hew,” his companion said carelessly. “See you at the -game to-morrow.” - -Left alone, he strolled aimlessly down the street until he came to the -entrance of the Burlington Hotel. There he hesitated for a few moments -and finally went up the steps and into the lobby. - -As he did so he gave a sudden start. Across the room, seated sidewise -on a big leather sofa, was Dick Merriwell. His back was toward the -entrance and he was deep in conversation with some one whose face -Morrison could not distinguish. - -The sofa was one of those large double ones with a high back between -the two seats, and, almost without realizing why he did it, Morrison -walked softly across the lobby, and sat down on the other side with an -air of affected carelessness. - -Merriwell was talking, and Morrison could distinguish the words quite -plainly. - -“You never saw such a baseball crank in your life. I don’t believe he -thinks of anything else out of business hours. He says if we come up to -the mine at nine to-morrow he’ll have us shown all around.” - -Morrison gave a start and his dark eyes gleamed. - -“The mine!” he muttered to himself. “They’re going through the mine -to-morrow, and McDonough’s foreman on the lower level. What a chance!” - -Without stopping to hear more, he sprang up and went hurriedly into the -writing room, where he sat down at a small table and drew a sheet of -the hotel paper from the rack. - -First carefully tearing off the heading, he picked up a pen and wrote -rapidly. Then he looked around for a blotter, but there was none in -sight. - -“Where the deuce do they keep the things?” he muttered angrily. - -Finally he jerked open a drawer and found a stack of new ones inside. -He snatched up one of them and carefully blotted the scrawl. Then he -folded the note and put it in his pocket. - -“I must get a plain envelope at the stationer’s,” he murmured, “and -then find a boy to take it to Dolan’s before Bill gets away. I rather -think you may have an interesting time at the mine to-morrow, my -friend.” - -As Morrison peered out into the lobby, he was dismayed to find that -Merriwell and his friend Buckhart had left the sofa and were talking to -the clerk at the desk. His first instinctive impulse was to dodge back -into the writing room. Then he gave a muttered exclamation. - -“Pshaw! What a loon I am! I’ve got as much right in this hotel as he -has, and he’ll never know what I came here for.” - -Squaring his shoulders, he stalked toward the entrance, with eyes -averted from the desk, and disappeared into the darkness. - -“There goes your friend, the pitcher, pard,” Buckhart grinned. “Wonder -what that varmint’s doing here.” - -Dick shrugged his shoulders as he turned away from the desk. - -“Give it up, Brad,” he said carelessly. “I don’t know that I care very -much. I want to write a letter to Frank. Will you wait for me, or join -Tommy and Bouncer upstairs?” - -The big Texan yawned. - -“Sure, I’ll wait,” he said. “Might as well scrawl off a note myself, -since I’ve got the chance.” - -They went into the writing room, and each sat down at a small table. -Taking a sheet of paper from the rack, Dick wrote rapidly for several -minutes. He was telling Frank what they had been doing for the past few -days, and, when he had finished that, he stopped to think out their -itinerary for the next week. - -“Let’s see,” he murmured meditatively. “We’ll stay here over Sunday, -and start Monday morning. By Monday night we ought to be in----” - -He stopped, his eyes fixed curiously on the oblong, white blotter which -lay before him. - -“That’s funny,” he said slowly. - -The Texan looked up from his letter. - -“What is?” - -Dick did not answer at once. He picked up the blotter and scrutinized -it closely. It was a fresh one and apparently had been used but once. -Evidently some one had written a short note in a heavy, scrawly hand -with a stub pen, and blotted it in haste. What had attracted the Yale -man’s attention was his own name reversed, which appeared almost at the -top of the blotter. - -“This is very interesting,” he said at length. “Somebody seems to have -been taking my name in vain, and I’m a little curious to see what the -connection is.” - -He pushed back his chair and stood up, the blotter in one hand. Over -the mantel at the other end of the room was a long mirror, and walking -across to it, Dick held the blotter up to the glass. Buckhart had also -risen and was looking at the reflection over his friend’s shoulder. - -“Merriwell,” deciphered Dick slowly; “mine--to-morrow--your -chance--miss--want to put--business--pitch.” - -The Yale pitcher turned and eyed his friend quizzically. - -“This is decidedly interesting,” he remarked. “Even more so than I -expected. There’s some more words in between the others that are not -very clear, but perhaps we can make something out of them. Get a sheet -of paper and a pencil, will you, Brad?” - -The Texan made haste to bring paper and pencil, and, laying the -former on the mantel shelf, Dick studied the blotter carefully again. -Presently he wrote something on the paper and turned again to the -blotter. - -He kept this up for ten or fifteen minutes in silence, and at the end -of that time he picked up the paper and carried it back to one of the -desks. - -“That’s about all I can make out,” he said, as he sat down and spread -the sheet out before him. “Draw up a chair and let’s see how it reads.” - -The Texan pulled a chair up, and they bent their heads over the desk. - -What they saw was fairly clear. A few letters were missing, but not -enough to destroy the sense of the letter. - -“Merriwell wi--be--mine to-morrow--ni-- ---- ock. --his--s your chance. ---nt miss it--yo-- want to put hi-- --ut of business so--e --an-- pitch ----- nst --ou.” - -“That’s as plain as daylight,” Dick said, with satisfaction. “Put in -the few letters which are missing, and it will read like this: - -“‘Merriwell will be at the mine to-morrow at nine o’clock. This is your -chance. Don’t miss it, if you want to put him out of business so he -cannot pitch against you.’ - -“That’s really the most interesting epistle I’ve read in a long time, -old fellow,” Merriwell went on. “Short, and to the point. No address, -no signature. The plot thickens, Bradley, my boy.” - -“It sure does, pard--a-plenty,” growled the Westerner. “I’d like to -know the onery varmint that wrote it. I’d make him a whole lot shy -about repeating the performance. You hear me softly warble!” - -“I’d rather know who it was written to,” Dick said meditatively. “Then -I’d know who to look out for.” - -He looked at Buckhart with a sudden gleam in his eyes. - -“Did you notice where Morrison came from when he went through the lobby -a little while ago?” he asked slowly. - -The Texan brought his clenched fist down on the desk with a crash that -made the pens and inkwells bounce. - -“By the great horn spoon!” he exploded. “He came out of this very room. -The miserable snake in the grass! He ought to be tarred and feathered, -only that’s a heap too good for the coyote.” - -Dick smiled quietly. - -“I rather thought he might be the one,” he remarked. “It’s the sort of -trick you’d expect from a fellow like that. He’s evidently found out -that we’re going to play to-morrow, and he’s so dead sore that he’s -willing to do anything to prevent it.” - -He glanced at the letter again. - -“Written to some one in the mine, that’s plain,” he murmured. “Also -some one who plays on their nine. Notice where he says, ‘so he cannot -pitch against you.’ Well, I don’t know that we can glean any more -information by poring over this thing. We’ll have to keep our eyes -open to-morrow at the mine and look out for snags. I’ll just keep this -blotter; we may have use for it sometime.” - -He tucked it carefully away in his pocket, together with the -transcription he had made, and resumed his letter. When this was -finished he addressed and stamped it, and, after posting it in the -lobby, the two chums stepped into the elevator and were carried up to -their rooms, where Tucker and Bouncer had retired more than an hour -before. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE EXPLOSION. - - -The Mispah Mining Company of Forest Hills had the reputation of -being one of the best managed, as well as one of the most paying, -propositions of its kind in the State. - -Though technically a stock company, it was practically owned by the two -brothers, John and Orren Fairchilds, who were thoroughly up to date in -their methods and believed in giving their employees the benefit of -every possible convenience and comfort. - -The natural result was that the men gave them willingly more real work -and good results than they could possibly have secured by the grasping, -driving methods of some more shortsighted business men; labor troubles -were practically eliminated, and everything worked smoothly and in -perfect harmony. - -The mine was located in the mountains to the north of Forest Hills. In -fact, that portion of the town, occupied mainly by the miners, with -its rows upon rows of comfortable frame cottages, closely abutted on -the land owned by the company along the level ground at the foot of -the rocky slope, where was situated the large brick office building, -which was used by the officers of the company, their clerks, surveyors, -draftsmen, and civil engineers. - -Here were also storehouses, railroad sidings, and a number of other -buildings, which looked almost like a little town in itself, while -behind the office building was the baseball diamond, laid out by the -enthusiastic Orren Fairchilds, with its grand stand, bleachers, and -high board fencing, complete. - -Halfway up the side of the mountain, perhaps a thousand feet above the -level, was the main shaft of the mine, with its shaft house, pumping -station and all the infinite details which go to the proper equipment -of a mine. Made of timber cased in sheet iron, well painted, they -seemed to be poised on the side of the mountain like a fly on a wall, -and the stranger always expressed wonderment as to how they had been -built in that apparently inaccessible spot. - -Connecting the two levels curved the inclined track, down which shot -cars, filled with ore destined for the smelter, to be carried back -empty, or filled with supplies, shifts of laborers, or any one else who -wanted to go up to the mine. For this was the only way of reaching the -mouth of the shaft. - -At five minutes before nine the _Wizard_, with Dick Merriwell at the -wheel, whirled through the open gates which marked the entrance to the -property of the Mispah Mining Company, and drew up before the handsome -office building. - -The four Yale men alighted and walked into the main office, where Dick -sent his card in to the mine owner. The office boy returned with a -message that Mr. Fairchilds would be out in a few moments, so they made -themselves comfortable on a heavy oak bench that stood near the door. - -In less than ten minutes Dick’s friend of the night before appeared -from his private office, and advanced with outstretched hand. - -“Well, well, my boy, how are you this morning?” he said briskly. “I -hope you’re ready for a good sweat. It’s pretty warm down on the lower -level.” - -Then his eye fell on Buckhart. - -“Bless my soul!” he exclaimed. “The Yale catcher, or I’ll eat my hat! I -don’t know your name, but I never forget a face.” - -“Buckhart,” Dick put in, as the Texan shook the older man’s hand. -“Bradley Buckhart from Texas.” - -“Glad to meet you--very glad,” the mine owner said in his sharp, -incisive manner. “Have you brought any more of your team with you, -Merriwell? I foresee that my boys will have to stir themselves to lick -you this afternoon.” - -Dick smiled. - -“Tommy Tucker, here, sometimes plays short,” he explained. “He’s going -to hold down centre field to-day.” - -There was a whimsical look of mock consternation on Orren Fairchilds’ -face as he shook hands with Tucker and Bigelow. - -“I wish you’d brought the other six along,” he said. “There’d be some -honor in beating the Yale varsity.” - -Without waiting for a reply, he ushered them into an adjoining room, -which was fitted up with a number of lockers, and opening one of them -he began to toss out a variety of garments. - -“We’ll have to change here,” he explained. “There’d be very little left -of your regular clothes if you went down in them.” - -In the course of five minutes all five were arrayed in rough woolen -trousers, flannel shirt, heavy shoes, and felt hats. The transformation -was astonishing. But for the healthy tan on their faces, they might -easily have been taken for a party of laborers, ready for their daily -descent into the mine. - -The mine owner then led the way through the office and across the yard -to a platform outside the smelter. Here they climbed into one of the -short, dumpy little ore cars and were borne swiftly up the incline. - -It took but a minute to reach the top, where they found, to their -surprise, that there was a good deal more space than they had supposed. - -Jumping out of the car, they followed their guide into the pump house -where they gazed in surprise at the huge engines which worked night and -day pumping air into the underground workings, and drawing out through -the ventilation shafts the hot, poisonous vapors from below. - -From thence they passed quickly to the shaft house, where two mammoth -hoisting engines of a thousand horse power each operated the cages, of -which there were four, the main shaft being divided into that number of -compartments. - -The engineer and his assistant nodded as the chief entered. - -“Be one along in a minute, Mr. Fairchilds,” the former said, as he -glanced at the dial before him. - -In less than that time, a cage shot up from the shaft and two miners -stepped out. One of them was a big, burly fellow with a long scar on -one side of his face. - -“Hello, Bill,” the mine owner called. “After anything important? I want -you to show us around down below.” - -The fellow grinned, displaying a void on his upper jaw where two front -teeth were missing. - -“Need a little powder, that’s all,” he said. “I’ll be with you in a -jiffy.” - -He strode out of the door, and Orren Fairchilds turned to Dick. - -“That’s my prize pitcher,” he explained. “Six months ago he knew as -much about baseball as a two-year-old, and I thought he’d never be able -to get a ball over the plate. But he was anxious to learn, and we kept -at it. I’m proud of him now.” - -The fellow came back on the run, a package of dynamite sticks swinging -carelessly from one hand. At the sight of them, Bigelow’s fat face -turned pale and he edged away a little. - -“My goodness!” he whispered hoarsely to Tucker. “Look at the way he -carries them. What if they should drop.” - -“Don’t worry, Bouncer,” Tommy returned, with a nonchalance he was far -from feeling. “It needs a spark combined with the concussion to set it -off.” - -“Still, I don’t like it,” complained the fat chap. - -The mine owner had paused at the cage door. - -“Merriwell, shake hands with my pitcher, McDonough,” he said briskly. -“You two boys will be up against each other good and hard this -afternoon.” - -Dick put out his hand promptly, and the miner’s great paw closed over -it with a grip which gave a hint of amazing strength. He looked the -Yale man straight in the eyes, and for a brief instant Merriwell seemed -to read something like a threat which flashed into those dark orbs and -was gone. - -“Glad to know you,” McDonough said quietly. “I reckon we’ll try to give -the grand standers the worth of their money.” - -He followed Dick into the cage and dropped the dynamite on the floor -with a thump which made Bouncer jump nervously. Then the descent began. - -In an instant the floor of the shaft house had vanished and they were -dropping noiselessly into the darkness, lit only by the flickering rays -of the lantern which hung from the top of the cage, showing the timbers -that lined the shaft seemingly leaping upward. - -Bigelow caught his breath in a sudden gasp and clutched Tucker’s wrist -convulsively. - -Presently the cage passed a large, irregular, well-lighted room opening -back into the rock from the side of the shaft. Men were busy there, and -they could hear the throbbing of machinery at work. - -“That’s one of the stations,” explained Fairchilds. “It’s the opening -to one of the intermediate levels, but we won’t stop. I want you to see -the lowest level.” - -Down they went. Other stations flashed past at regular intervals until -they had counted seven or eight of them. Presently the cable supporting -the car began to take on a peculiarly disagreeable bobbing motion, -which gave the novices an odd sensation, as though they were hung over -an abyss by a rubber strap, and caused Bouncer to clutch Tucker again -and gasp anew. Then the car stopped and they stepped out onto the floor. - -The station of the lowest lift was like all those they had -passed--well-lighted, walled, floored and roofed with heavy planking, -and filled with all sorts of mining supplies. A narrow-gauge track led -from the shaft back into the drift, or tunnel beyond, which was fairly -well lighted by electric globes at intervals along the walls. - -McDonough took the lead, and they at once plunged into the tunnel, -which had a barely perceptible upward grade. - -“Follows the course of the vein, you understand,” the mine owner -explained, as he pointed out where the ore had been taken out along -one side of the drift. “We’ll get to where they’re working in a few -minutes, and then you can see how it’s done.” - -“Look out!” yelled McDonough warningly. - -He caught Dick’s arm and drew him back against the wall, the others -following suit, and a moment later a laden ore car flashed past in the -direction of the shaft, and disappeared. - -Presently they turned into a crosscut, and a few minutes later they -began to pass small groups of men working at the rock with picks and -bars. Almost without exception they were stripped to the waist, -for the heat had become oppressive, and was growing greater as they -advanced. - -They crossed the openings of innumerable small drifts which led out of -the main tunnel, some of which were short, blind tunnels, while others -extended for a long distance, sometimes curving around and returning to -the drift from which they started. It was a veritable labyrinth. - -At length they reached a spot where a number of men were loading the -ore cars, and the mine owner stopped. - -“This will show you the working as well as any place,” he said, taking -off his hat and mopping his forehead. “You notice that the tunnel runs -along one side of the vein? That’s to prevent caving. The ore is much -softer than the rock through which it runs. You can see for yourselves -how it is taken out with pick and bar. Sometimes we help it along with -a blast.” - -While he was talking Dick stepped up to the side of the drift and -looked closely at the vein. It did not look in the least like one’s -preconceived notion of gold ore, but the Yale man had had enough -experience to see that it was good stuff. - -“It ain’t as rich here as we struck it a ways back,” said a voice. - -And turning, Dick saw McDonough standing at his side. - -“Still, I shouldn’t mind having a couple of thousand tons of this ore,” -Merriwell said, smiling. - -The big fellow grinned. - -“Me neither,” he returned. “But if you’ll step into this here crosscut, -I’ll show you something that’s about three times as good.” - -For an instant the Yale man hesitated, thinking of the sinister note -on the blotter. But here in this lighted spot, with men on every side, -there was nothing McDonough could do, even if he was the man to whom -that note was written. Certainly he didn’t propose to let the fellow -think he was afraid. - -“Why, yes,” he said quietly; “I’d like very much to see it.” - -The rest of the party were busy watching the miners and paid no -attention when Dick turned and followed the brawny foreman about twenty -feet back along the passage and then into a drift which ran at right -angles. - -This drift curved so sharply that they had not gone more than a dozen -steps before the entrance was lost to sight. Presently McDonough -stopped and held his candle close to the wall. - -“That’s some to the good, I tell you,” he said enthusiastically; “and -it’s better yet further on. We----” - -He broke off abruptly and listened. - -“Gee! There’s the old man calling!” he exclaimed. “Hold this, will you? -I’ll be back in a jiffy.” - -He thrust the candle into Merriwell’s hand and darted back along the -passage. Dick examined the ore with much interest. It certainly was -rich and averaged much more to the ton than that in the outer drift. A -footstep sounded, and looking up, he saw a figure advancing toward him -from the opposite end of the passage. For a moment he thought it was -McDonough, and wondered how he had managed to get around so soon; for -he comprehended at once that the tunnel must have another entrance. -Then the man spoke, and he realized that it was Orren Fairchilds. - -“Taking a look at my prize vein, are you?” the mine owner said briskly. -“How did you find----” - -A sudden, muffled roar drowned his voice. A cloud of smoke belched from -the wall, and the next instant a huge section of the rock crashed down -into the tunnel, filling it to nearly half its height, and totally -obliterating every sign of the unfortunate man who had stood there. - -The cry of horror which Dick Merriwell uttered as he sprang forward, -changed to one of joy when he saw that, instead of being utterly -crushed, Fairchilds had escaped the heaviest part of the fall by a -swift, forward plunge, and was only pinned down by the weight of some -large chunks of rock which had dropped on his legs. - -He saw something else, too, which sent a thrill through him and turned -his tanned face a shade less brown. - -Directly above the mine owner, a great mass of loosened rock hung -as if suspended by a thread, and as the Yale man glanced up, it -quivered a little. The slightest movement--the vibration of a voice, -perhaps--would send it crashing down on those two beneath. Yet Dick did -not hesitate an instant. - -Swiftly sticking the candle upright in a crevice, he bent over the -fallen man and, with infinite caution, began to lift the pieces of ore -from his legs. - -Despite the shock he had experienced, Orren Fairchilds was quite -conscious. Lying on his back, his eyes fixed on the tottering mass -which was poised above him, he knew well that death was staring him in -the face, and he appreciated to the full the heroism of the man who was -deliberately risking his own life in what seemed a futile attempt to -save another’s. - -He moistened his dry lips. - -“You can’t do it,” he whispered. “Leave me. Get back--quickly! Another -moment and it will fall!” - -He dared not raise his voice; his eyes never left the trembling rock -above him. - -Dick Merriwell made no answer; apparently he did not consider one -necessary. One by one the heavy chunks of rock were lifted up and put -aside. - -“Go, I tell you,” repeated the mine owner in that same suppressed tone. -“Why don’t you go? Do you want to be crushed to death?” - -The Yale man dashed the sweat from his eyes. - -“Do you really think I will?” was all he said. - -“No,” breathed the older man. “No, I don’t; but I wish----” - -He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening with horror. The rock was -moving. Slowly, slowly, it crept forward, sending rattling showers of -dust and small stones in its wake. - -“It’s coming!” gasped Fairchilds. “It’s moving! For God’s sake save -yourself!” - -Abandoning all caution, Dick rolled the last piece of rock from the -fallen man and, catching him in his arms, staggered backward. - -There was another crash, louder than the first, as the great mass -plunged downward into the tunnel. Something struck Merriwell on the -right shoulder, hurling him against the wall, and thence to his knees. - -Then came the flash of light along the passage, the sound of hurrying -feet, the quick, staccato note of many voices raised in excitement, and -the next instant Dick felt himself caught up in a powerful grasp and -literally carried out of the drift into the main tunnel. - -Wrenching himself free, he turned and looked into the face of Brad -Buckhart, drawn, white and horror-stricken, great beads of perspiration -standing out on his forehead. - -“You?” Merriwell exclaimed. “I thought---- Thank you, old fellow.” - -The Texan drew one sleeve across his forehead. - -“By George, pard!” he grunted; “I sure thought you were done for that -time.” - -“Where’s Mr. Fairchilds?” Dick asked anxiously. “Did he get out all -right?” - -“He did, thanks to you, my boy.” - -The mine owner’s voice sounded from the tunnel’s mouth, and the next -instant he appeared, supported by Bill McDonough and another miner. -There were cuts on his head and face, one hand was bruised, and he -could not stand alone; but his eyes were bright and his voice firm. - -“By gorry!” he exclaimed. “That was the closest thing I ever saw. I -shall never forget this, Merriwell. Are you hurt?” - -Dick smiled. - -“None to speak of,” he returned. “Shoulder a little numb, that’s all.” - -“Good.” - -The monosyllable was snapped out like a pistol shot, and into Orren -Fairchilds’ face came a look which seldom appeared there, and which -those who knew him dreaded. His eyes grew cold and hard and piercing, -and, as he turned slowly from one to another, men dropped their heads, -and with nervously shuffling feet and crimsoned faces awaited in -awe-struck silence the inevitable explosion. - -It came. - -“Who set off that blast?” - -There was a steely menace to the words as they issued from the mine -owner’s set lips. - -Not a man spoke. Not one in the circle lifted his eyes. Fear and -embarrassment made them all look equally guilty. - -“McDonough!” - -Fairchilds withdrew his hand from the foreman’s arm, and the big fellow -took a step forward. - -“McDonough, you’re in charge of this level,” snapped the mine owner. -“Who set off that blast?” - -The man with the scar moistened his lips with his tongue. His face was -a little pale, but he met his chief’s eyes squarely. - -“I don’t know,” he said in a level tone--“so help me, I don’t.” - -There was a momentary silence as the bright, steely eyes of the smaller -man seemed to bore into the foreman’s very soul. - -“You don’t know?” he rasped. “You must know! A blast can’t be planted -without your knowing.” - -The burly giant never hesitated. - -“I didn’t know it was planted,” he said in a low tone--“I swear I -didn’t. That’s what I brought the powder down for. If you want to know -what I think, I bet it was meant for me. There’s a lot of fellows -here’s got a grudge agin’ me ’cause they think I drive ’em hard; and I -bet one of ’em put that blast there while I was up above, thinking to -let it off the first time I went in there. When they seen me go in with -Mr. Merriwell, they done the trick.” - -“Humph!” snapped Fairchilds. “What made you leave Mr. Merriwell there?” - -“I thought I heard you calling me.” - -The mine owner looked a little doubtful. - -“I did call you,” he said slowly. - -He tried to take a step forward, and a twinge of pain crossed his face. - -“Get an empty,” he said shortly. “I can’t stand here any longer. I’ve -got to go up.” - -His stern eyes left McDonough’s face and traveled swiftly over the -other men. - -“But this thing is not going to drop,” he rasped. “I’ll find out who -set off that blast if I have to grill every man in the shift. I’m going -to get at the truth somehow.” - -An empty ore car was brought up and the mine owner helped into it. He -was followed by the other members of the party. As McDonough stepped -forward to help Dick into the car, the Yale man looked at him keenly, -searchingly, with narrowed lids. It was the briefest sort of a glance, -but there was something in Merriwell’s eyes which caused the burly -giant to move uneasily and turn away his head. - -Dick sprang into the car without assistance. They moved slowly down the -crosscut to the main drift, and were soon back at the station again. - -By the time the mine owner’s office was reached, Fairchilds was able to -hobble along without assistance, though he still suffered considerable -pain. He led the Yale men into his private office, where he insisted on -Dick’s taking off his shirt so that his shoulder could be attended to. - -Though Merriwell made light of it, there was an ugly bruise where the -piece of rock had struck him, and his whole arm pained him, as if it -had been badly hurt. Fairchilds’ secretary, who was experienced in -looking after such things, painted it well with iodine, after he had -assured himself that there were no bones broken, and cautioned Dick -about taking care of it for a few days, so as not to strain it further. - -“Swell chance I’ll have of taking care of it, with a game on this -afternoon,” Dick remarked, as they were changing their clothes in the -small room off the main office. - -“Great Scott, pard!” Buckhart exclaimed in dismay. “I’d clean forgot -the game. How in thunder are you going to pitch?” - -Dick smiled. - -“Be a south paw, I reckon, if I find the other wing won’t stand the -racket.” - -“But can you swing a bat?” Tucker put in anxiously. - -“I hope so,” Merriwell said quietly. “It’s not so bad as all that, and -it will be much easier this afternoon. Don’t worry, Tommy; we’ll get -through somehow. I’ve got to pitch, you know. There isn’t anybody else.” - -They had already said good-by to the mine owner, so when they finished -dressing they went out to the car. Dick took his seat at the wheel -while the Texan turned the engine over. - -As they went through the gates, Tucker leaned forward from the tonneau. - -“Where are you going?” he asked curiously. - -Merriwell’s eyebrows went up a little. - -“Why, to the Field Club, of course,” he returned. “Have you forgotten -that we promised Gardiner to come there directly from the mine? We -didn’t get half enough practice yesterday.” - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE GAME BEGINS. - - -A steady stream of baseball fans poured into the Field Club grounds. It -was Saturday; there was not a cloud in the sky, and it seemed as though -every man and boy, as well as the greater part of the women, of Forest -Hills had made up their minds to witness the great game. - -In perfect equality clerks rubbed elbows with their “bosses.” Newsboys, -with bare feet and dirty faces, shouted witticisms over the shoulders -of bankers and merchants. Miners, in their rough working clothes, -thronged the field in great numbers and kept up a continuous roar -for their team. Automobiles had been barred from the grounds that -afternoon, but an endless string of them lined the street outside. - -The game was scheduled for three-thirty. At two the grand stand was -crowded and the bleachers filled to overflowing. An hour later there -was not a seat to be had for love or money; men were scattered all -around the diamond, wherever they could find a place to stand, and a -solid mass of humanity lined the fence back of the field. The wide -veranda of the clubhouse was jammed to the very rail with wives and -daughters of the members, in their bright summer dresses, whose gay -chatter added a lighter note to ceaseless hum of many voices. - -As the hour struck the mine boys took the field for fifteen minutes of -short, snappy practice. As they did so a great roar went up from the -bleachers, which continued long and loud until stilled by the upraised -hand of Orren Fairchilds, who, despite his injury of that morning, -seemed to be as active as any man on the field. - -There was an anxious look on Gardiner’s face as he came over to where -Dick was warming up. - -“How’s the arm, old fellow?” he asked. - -“Left’s all right, but I’m afraid there’s nothing doing with the -other,” Merriwell answered. “I can toss a couple with it, but that’s -the limit. Begins to pain right away.” - -“Think you can pitch nine innings with your left?” Gardiner inquired. - -The Yale man smiled. - -“I’ll have to,” he said quietly. “What troubles me more is swinging a -bat. I can’t put any strength into it. Guess I won’t be much use to you -in the hitting line.” - -“Don’t worry about that,” the curly haired fellow said quickly. “If you -can only pitch through the game the rest of us will try and look after -the batting. I reckon it’s time for us to take the field.” - -As the Field Club team took the places of their opponents in the field, -there was a good deal of cheering and stamping from the grand stand, -but a noticeable silence from the occupants of the bleachers. Evidently -the miners did not propose to waste their breath on the opposing nine. - -With the hand on the big clock in the clubhouse tower creeping toward -the half hour, the fans began to grow impatient. There was much -shuffling of feet, catcalls and shrill whistles arose and mingled with -them, cries of: - -“Get a move on!” - -“Get busy!” - -“Play ball!” - -At exactly three-thirty, the fellows raced in from the field, and the -two captains got together with the umpires for the toss. The Field -Club men won, and promptly took the field again amidst a roar of -approval from the crowd. - -The first man up was Jimmy Rooney, the Mispah catcher, a short, stocky, -muscular fellow, with reddish hair and a mass of freckles. As he walked -to the plate a cheer went up from the bleachers, which was quickly -stilled as the umpire tore off the wrappings from a ball and tossed it -to Dick. - -“Play ball!” he called. - -The Yale man caught it in his left hand and toed the rubber. Buckhart -crouched and gave the signal for an outcurve, and the next moment the -ball left Merriwell’s hand. - -“Ball one!” yelled the umpire. - -The next one was also wild. - -“Don’t let him fool you, Jim,” advised the mine owner. “Make him put it -over.” - -A moment later Merriwell got the inside corner of the plate, and Rooney -failed to swing. - -“Strike!” barked the umpire, with an upward motion of his right hand. - -The red-headed catcher squared himself and dug his toes into the -ground. He wouldn’t let another good one get by. - -Merriwell took the signal for a drop. He started the ball high, but it -dropped sharply and swiftly and Rooney decided to strike. Lunging at -it, he hit it on the upper side of his bat and popped it high above the -infield. - -It was an easy fly and Reddy Maxwell got under it confidently. Perhaps -he was too confident. At all events, he caught it and--dropped it. - -Despite the fact that it seemed a sure out, Rooney was racing toward -first as hard as he could go, and by the time Maxwell snatched up the -ball and lined it to Gardiner, the miner had touched the bag. - -Maxwell’s face was crimson as he trotted back to position. - -“Hard luck, old fellow,” Dick said quietly. - -“Blamed rotten, you mean,” Reddy retorted. “I ought to be kicked all -over the place.” - -Herman Glathe, a tall, blond German, came to the bat; and, at the first -delivery, Rooney, who had taken a good lead off the cushion, went down -the line toward second like a race horse. - -It almost seemed as though Buckhart, having caught the ball, waited -an instant for Maxwell to cover the sack. Then he sent the horsehide -sphere whistling straight as a bullet into the hands of the red-haired -shortstop, who bent a little forward to receive it and jabbed it on to -Rooney as the latter slid. - -“Out at second!” announced the umpire. - -But his decision was almost drowned in the excited shriek which went up -from the clubhouse veranda. - -“Good boy!” Dick murmured, as he caught the ball. - -The next moment Glathe had lined out a clean single into the outfield, -and he reached the initial sack amidst a roar of applause from the -bleachers. - -As though to atone for this, Dick teased Sam Allen, the Mispah second -baseman, into striking at the first two balls pitched. Then followed a -couple of wide ones, but Sam refused to be further beguiled. At last he -landed on what he thought was a good one, and lifted a high foul back -of the pan, away near the grand stand. - -Like a flash Buckhart snapped off his cage and perked his head up to -get its bearings. Then he spread himself and just managed to smother -the ball within five feet of the front line of spectators, who -shrieked a frenzied approval. - -“Two gone, pard,” he grinned, as he lined the ball out to Dick. “See if -you can’t fan this Adonis.” - -Bill McDonough was swaggering to the plate with a smile of confidence -on his ugly face, and, as Merriwell watched him through narrowed lids, -he made up his mind to strike him out if he could. - -He began on the miner with a jump ball. It shot upward and McDonough, -who had felt certain of hitting it, missed cleanly, nearly throwing -himself down with the violence of his swing. - -“That’s pitching, pard,” laughed the Texan, as the sphere buried itself -in the pocket of his mitt. “That’s the kind.” - -The burly giant scowled a little as he stamped his spikes into the -ground and squared himself, crouching and leaning a bit backward, with -his weight on his right foot. - -Merriwell shifted the ball in his fingers and took plenty of time. -Suddenly he pitched, and the sphere came humming over with speed that -almost made the air smoke. - -Again McDonough missed. - -A cheer went up from the crowd. - -Dick felt that the batter would expect him to try a coaxer, for, with -no balls called, most pitchers would feel that they could afford to -waste one or two. - -He glanced around at his backers, his foot on the slab. When he turned, -he pitched without the slightest preliminary swing, sending over a -high, straight, speedy ball. It had been his object, if possible, to -catch the miner unprepared, and he succeeded. The batter struck a -second too late, and the ball spanked into Buckhart’s glove. - -“Out!” shouted the umpire. - -But the word was not heard in the tremendous roar which went up from -the grand stand. - -“Bully work, old fellow!” Glen Gardiner said enthusiastically, as they -trotted in from the field. “You shut them out beautifully. Shoulder all -right?” - -“Fine!” Dick returned. - -“Well, we’ll see if we can’t get a run or two,” the curly haired -captain went on, as he selected a bat. “Nothing like getting a good -start.” - -But his hopes were soon shattered. - -McDonough proved something of a surprise to the Yale men as they -watched his work from the bench. He was not at all the type of man of -which good pitchers are usually made. Huge almost to unwieldiness, with -muscles sticking out like great cords, at first sight he seemed to -lack the supple, flexible, swiftness so necessary to good work in the -box. Neither did his rough, brutal face give any indication of mental -agility and well-developed brain power, without which no twirler can -succeed. - -In spite of all this, however, he did astonishingly well. His chief -reliance was a swift straight ball which started high and ended with a -sharp drop. Besides this he was the master of a few good curves. But -what surprised Merriwell was his amazing headwork. He seemed almost to -read the mind of the man at the bat, and, by some marvelous intuition, -to give him just the sort of ball he was not expecting. - -Two strikes were called on Gardiner, who then popped an easy fly to the -infield and was caught out. - -Reddy Maxwell promptly fanned, to the tumultuous enjoyment of the mine -crowd on the bleachers. - -Tucker managed to bang a hot liner past second and got to first by -the skin of his teeth. Urged by Gardiner, who was coaching, he danced -off the cushion and, with the first ball pitched to Arthur Dean, he -scudded down the line like a streak of greased lightning. Rooney made -a perfect throw to second; but Allen dropped the ball, and Tommy, -sliding, was safe. - -It was a wasted effort, for Dean fanned, and the Forest Hills boys took -the field again. - -“That’s the biggest surprise I ever had,” Dick said, as he sprang up -from the bench. “I didn’t think he had it in him.” - -“Wouldn’t have given ten cents for him that many minutes ago,” growled -Buckhart, buckling his chest protector with a jerk. “He’s sure been -well trained.” - -Max Unger, right field, started the inning with a high fly between -short and third, which Garland misjudged, giving Unger plenty of time -to jog to first. He was followed by Foy, the miner’s third baseman, who -lined a red hot single into the outfield. - -Hodgson, shortstop, knocked a foul back of first, which Gardiner -gathered in; and Hall, the Mispah first baseman, fanned in short order. - -At second, Unger had been inclined at first to lead off pretty well, -but two or three sudden throws from Merriwell, prompted by Buckhart’s -signals warned him to stick close to the hassock. - -With two men out and two on bases, Mike Slavinsky, a stalwart Pole, -came to the bat. - -“Now, Slavvy, take it easy,” admonished the mine owner. “Don’t try to -knock the cover off the ball. Just a nice little single. Rooney comes -next, you know.” - -The big fellow grinned a little as he squared himself at the plate. But -in spite of this warning, he swung at the first ball with such force -that he turned halfway around. - -“Easy now,” cautioned Fairchilds--“take it easy.” - -Then Slavvy calmed down, let two coaxers go by, and hit the next ball a -smash which sent it across the infield. Stan Garrick forked at it, but -the sphere was too hot to hold, and he dropped it. While he was seeking -to recover it, Unger made third, Foy landed on second, and Slavvy was -too well down to first to be caught. - -As Rooney advanced to the bat the Forest Hills infielders crept up into -the diamond. If the miner played the game he would certainly try for a -bunt, and they balanced themselves on their toes, ready to go after it -if the fellow succeeded in laying one down. - -For some unknown reason he did not try. Instead, he duplicated his high -fly of the inning before, except that this time there was more muscle -behind it and the ball went sailing into the outfield. - -Buck Garland got under it easily and waited confidently for it to -drop. To his intense dismay and everlasting shame, he repeated Reddy -Maxwell’s error, but with far graver results. - -The men on bases were off like streaks of greased lightning, and, by -the time Garland had secured the ball and lined it to third, Unger had -crossed the plate and Foy was halfway down from third. - -To cap the climax he made a high throw which Dean had to jump for. He -succeeded in stopping the ball, but ere it reached Buckhart’s eager, -outstretched hands, the Irish boy had made a beautiful slide and his -finger tips touched the plate. - -A deafening roar went up from the bleachers, augmented by the -enthusiasm of the men in the grand stand, and for five minutes the -field echoed with the frantic cheering. - -Glen Gardiner was sick at heart at this display of errors and the -thought that their opponents had secured a lead of two runs. He looked -desperately at Merriwell, who stood calmly waiting for the next batter -to face him. With two men on bases, there was no telling where the -mine boys would stop unless the Yale man checked them at once. - -Dick seemed to be of the same mind, for he proceeded to fan Glathe in -very short order. - -“By Jove, this is fierce!” Gardiner exclaimed, as his men gathered -around the bench. “We’ve got to brace up. What in the world got into -you, Buck, to do a thing like that?” - -Garland shook his head in despair. - -“I don’t know, Glen,” he said, with a sickly grin. “It was awful. I -ought to be kicked off the nine. I expect I’ve lost the game.” - -“Nonsense!” Merriwell said quickly, before the Forest Hills’ captain -could reply. “Don’t say a game is lost before the third man is out in -the last inning. Don’t even think it, for just as sure as you do, you -begin to lose heart and, whether you realize it or not, you slump. You -don’t make the effort--it doesn’t seem worth while. A game was never -lost for a certainty in the second inning, boys. What if they have a -lead of two runs? That’s nothing. Two runs are easily made up--and -more. Make up your minds that we’re going to win this game. We must win -it, and we shall.” - -There was something magnetic in the Yale man’s manner--something -inspiring in his quiet, calm assurance, which seemed to put heart into -the discouraged fellows, causing their eyes to brighten and their -shoulders to square instinctively. The usually deliberate Stan Garrick -snatched up a bat and advanced to the plate with the determination to -start off with a hit. - -“I must hit it!” he whispered to himself. “I must, and I will.” - -He was altogether too anxious to hit, and somehow, McDonough seemed to -divine this, for the miner pulled him with the first two balls handed -up, neither of which Stan touched. - -“You’ve got him, Bill,” chirped Orren Fairchilds, who stood a little to -one side of the plate. “Keep it up.” - -“Look out for those wide ones, Stan,” cautioned Gardiner. - -Garrick knew he had been fooled into striking at what must have been -balls, and he resolved to use better judgment. It seemed likely that, -having deceived him in such a manner, McDonough would still seek to -lure him into biting at the bad ones, and he resolved not to repeat the -error. - -The burly Mispah pitcher took his time. Dick was standing beside the -mine owner, for it was his turn next at the bat, and suddenly he caught -the flash of McDonough’s eye as it was turned in his direction. - -It was the briefest possible glance, for the next instant the miner -whipped one over the inside corner of the plate with all the speed he -could command. - -Too late Garrick saw that the ball might be good. He could not get his -bat around to meet it, and therefore let it pass, hoping the umpire -would call it a ball. - -“You’re out!” came sharply from the umpire. - -Garrick stepped back and tossed his bat on the ground. - -“Too bad, Stan,” Dick said, as he came forward to take his place. - -“Take it easy, Merriwell,” Gardiner advised, in a low tone. “It’s -better to let him fan you than to strain your arm.” - -Dick nodded comprehendingly. All the same he did not intend to strike -out if he could help it. - -He squared himself at the plate and faced the pitcher. McDonough turned -the ball in his hands, and once more the Yale man caught that brief, -almost imperceptible flash of the miner’s eyes toward the right. - -Then he toed the plate and sent in a swift one with a sharp outcurve. - -Merriwell did not move his bat. - -“Ball one!” cried the umpire. - -Again McDonough tried a coaxer, but the Yale man refused to bite, nor -did he budge when the ball came whistling over the plate a little too -high and cut the pan almost on a level with Dick’s neck. - -“You’ve got him in a hole,” laughed Gardiner. “He’s going to make you a -present of the base.” - -McDonough grinned sourly and then put one straight over the centre of -the plate. - -Dick played the game and let it pass. - -“Strike one!” declared the umpire. - -The miner reached for the inside corner on his next delivery and caught -it. - -“Strike two!” - -Then the Mispah man sought to send over a high one across Merriwell’s -chest. - -Dick lifted his bat, holding it loosely, and dropped the ball on the -ground with a skillful bunt. It rolled slowly along the base line, and -both McDonough and Rooney dashed after it, while the Yale man flew -toward the base as though endowed with wings. Ten feet from the sack he -launched himself through the air, feet first, and touched the hassock a -second before the ball plunked into the baseman’s glove. - -“Safe!” yelled the umpire. - -As Buckhart came to the plate, Dick took a good lead off the cushion, -and, with the first ball pitched, he was away toward second running -like a fiend. - -“There’s nothing the matter with his legs,” chuckled Gardiner, as the -Yale man picked himself up and dusted off the front of his shirt, one -foot on the bag. “I only hope he don’t jolt that lame wing of his too -much.” - -This was just what Merriwell was taking particular pains not to do. He -slid either feet first, or on his left side, and, though the shoulder -gave a painful twinge now and then, he hoped it would hold out. - -Meanwhile the big Texan, assured and smiling, squared himself at the -plate. He refused to be fooled by the first ball, which went a little -wide; but he presently picked out one of McDonough’s benders which -seemed to suit him, hitting it fair and square with a sharp, snappy -swing which sent it out on a line. - -It was a clean drive to the outfield, and two fielders chased the ball -while Brad tore over first and managed to reach second a moment after -Dick crossed the plate to the accompaniment of shrieks from the crowd, -who billowed to their feet in the excitement of the moment, wildly -waving hats and arms and shouting themselves hoarse. - -The Field Club team had made a run. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -AGAINST HEAVY ODDS. - - -Gardiner was jubilant. With a run already, a man on second, and only -one out, things were picking up. - -“Take it easy, Irv,” he said, as Renworth picked out a bat and advanced -to the plate. “All we want is a nice single.” - -Then he hurried down to the coaching line at first. - -Renworth was not a particularly strong batter. He was apt to lose his -head and misjudge the balls, and, in spite of his determination to make -a clean single or at least a bunt, he had two strikes called on him -almost before he knew it. Then he popped a high fly over toward centre -field, and, but for an error on the part of Glathe, he would have been -done for. Luckily the big German muffed the ball, and Renworth cantered -across the initial sack, while Buckhart reached third. - -“Now, Buck, it’s up to you,” Gardiner cried. “You know what to do. Say, -Tucker, come out and coach, will you? I’m up next.” - -As Garland came to the plate, Dick kept his eyes fixed on the burly -pitcher. He was very curious to learn the reason for that momentary -sidelong glance which he gave almost before every delivery. He thought -he had solved the problem, but he was not quite sure. There it was -again! A swift, glinting flash of his dark eyes, and then he pitched. - -“Strike one!” called the umpire. - -“I thought that was it,” murmured the Yale man with much satisfaction. -“He’s getting his signals from Fairchilds. That’s pretty clever.” - -Since his attention had been attracted to the pitcher’s odd trick of -hesitating almost imperceptibly before he delivered the ball Merriwell -had been looking about for the reason. Soon he saw that the mine owner -never left his position a little back of the base line some twenty feet -to the left of the plate. He noticed, moreover, that Fairchilds was -strangely silent while his own team was in the field, whereas, with -them at the bat, he took to advising, coaching, and encouraging. - -Dick, therefore, came to the conclusion that his first impression of -the burly miner had been correct. It was not his brain which was doing -such good work, but that of Orren Fairchilds. The mine owner had been -able to teach the man curves and speed and good control, but he could -not teach him judgment. Instead, he had done the next best thing, and -by means of a clever system of signals, he himself practically did the -thinking and directed every move made by the burly giant in the box. - -At first, Renworth was inclined to stick much too close to the base to -suit the vivacious Tucker. - -“Get off! get off!” yapped Tommy. “Stir your stumps! Get to going! -Drift away from that sack, Irv! Stop hugging it! It isn’t a girl. Get a -divorce from that cushion!” - -Thus admonished, Renworth danced away from the hassock as McDonough -received the ball from Rooney. Dick noticed the quick flash of his -eyes, and the next instant the burly pitcher whirled without a warning -and lined the sphere to Hall, who covered the base. - -“Slide! Slide!” shrieked Tucker frantically. - -Renworth did his best, but was caught almost by a hair’s breadth, the -umpire declaring him out. - -Then McDonough wound up the inning by striking out Buck Garland. - -“Never mind, boys,” Gardiner said cheerfully, as they jogged into the -field. “They’re only one run ahead. We’ll make that up.” - -But inning after inning came and went, and the score remained unchanged. - -As the game wore on McDonough seemed to improve. His speed grew -greater, his control more perfect, his curves more difficult; but -more surprising than anything else was the wonderful headwork he -displayed. He seemed to divine a batter’s weak points with marvelous -intuitiveness, varying his delivery with a cleverness which was almost -uncanny. In addition to all that, he made so many brilliant put-outs on -bases that the Forest Hills boys dared not take any chances. It was as -though he had eyes in the back of his head. - -To the great crowd in the grand stand and on the bleachers, even to the -Forest Hills men in the field, it was an extraordinary exhibition of -almost perfect pitching. Only one among them seemed to realize that the -hulking miner in the box, whose name resounded almost continually from -the mouths of the roaring thousands, was a mere machine, and that the -real credit belonged to the quiet little man, standing silently near -the home plate, his bright eyes taking in every inch of the field--a -man who had once held a high place on one of the big leagues, but who -was doing his playing now by proxy. - -Dick Merriwell was fighting desperately against tremendous odds. As -the game progressed his shoulder grew constantly worse. From the first -occasional twinges it had advanced by leaps and bounds, to a constant, -steady, almost intolerable pain, which caused him to catch his breath -at every throw, and made each turn at the bat an agony. - -But nothing of this appeared to the men on the field, much less to the -spectators. With splendid grit and unflagging cheerfulness he kept at -the work without a murmur, using every cure at his command and every -possible wile on the man at the bat, though not sparing himself when -speed was necessary. And, thanks to Buckhart’s signals, the mine boys -soon discovered to their cost that they could steal no bases on the -Yale pitcher. - -Off the field Merriwell’s cheery voice, on the coaching lines or at -the plate, put new life into the Forest Hills fellows and kept them -from growing disheartened as the fierce battle waged without further -tangible results on either side. - -One man on the field saw more than did the others. The big Texan -seemed to realize something of what his friend was suffering, and the -knowledge spurred him to do more than his best. There were no errors -in the Westerner’s brilliant playing. There were no passed balls; his -throws into the field were swift, accurate, and perfect; his eyes -seemed to take in every foot of the diamond; and, time and time again, -his rapid signals caused an unexpected put-out on bases. - -At each turn at the bat he made a clean hit; one was a two-bagger, -which the rapid fielding and steady play of the mine boys made -ineffective. - -But, in spite of all this, the seventh inning ended without either side -having added to their score. - -Before Dick went into the box he had Gardiner put his right arm into a -sling. It seemed to him that if he could have it tied firmly so that it -wouldn’t swing he could get along better. - -“If it’s as bad as that you ought to stop,” protested the curly haired -captain. - -Dick shook his head decidedly. - -“At the beginning of the eighth!” he exclaimed lightly. “Never! It’s a -pity if I can’t hold out for two innings. We’ve got to get at least a -couple of runs, you know, old fellow.” - -Among the spectators the excitement was intense. Such a game had never -before been seen in Forest Hills, and every man sat forward on the edge -of his seat, his eyes glued on the field. Something must happen soon. - -As Dick appeared with his arm in a sling, a voice from the bleachers -roared: - -“His wing is on the bum, boys! Now’s the time to pile up the runs! -Hammer the life out of him!” - -But they did not. - -Merriwell had resolved to hold them down. More runs at this stage of -the game would be fatal, and, summoning every effort, he put forth all -the skill that was in him. Grimly he kept at the work, pitching with -his left hand, and striking out some of the heaviest hitters who faced -him; and in little more than ten minutes the Mispah boys were back in -the field. - -Tucker now started the ball rolling by lining out a red hot one past -shortstop. Dean fanned and Tommy stole second, making the cushion by a -hair’s breadth amid a cloud of dust. Then Garrick popped a fly out to -left field, and, shrieking with joy, Tucker saw Slavvy muff it. Tommy -scooted to third, while Stan made first by a close margin. - -Fortune was certainly smiling on the Forest Hills boys. - -Merriwell slipped the sling from his arm and, picking up a bat, walked -over to the plate. - -He allowed two strikes to be called and then bunted, sending the ball -rolling and squirming toward first. He was out, but he had accomplished -his purpose, for Tucker slid home and Garrick reached second safely. - -The score was tied, and the crowd in the grand stand and about the -field shrieked itself hoarse. There was a sullen silence from the -bleachers. - -Gardiner was delighted. - -“That’s going some!” he cried. “Now, Brad, see if you can bring in -another.” - -The Texan refused to be tempted by McDonough’s coaxers. He forced him -to put one straight over and then fell on it with violent delight. It -was a frightful smash, and the sphere went sailing on a line into the -field to the right of centre. - -There was nothing slow about Garrick as he dashed across third like a -race horse and, in response to Dean’s frantic urging, kept on toward -home. He made the plate easily, and Buckhart got to second with a -splendid slide. - -“Got ’em going, boys,” Brad shouted--“got ’em going!” - -The crowd went wild and nearly stamped down the grand stand. - -Renworth quickly fanned, but the Forest Hills boys did not care, for -they were one run to the good. - -As Merriwell resumed his sling and walked out to the box he was -greeted with a sudden round of applause. Though they did not know the -circumstances, the crowd seemed suddenly to realize how much of the -success of the game was due to the grit of this cool, smiling stranger, -who, in spite of his injured arm, was doing such splendid work. - -Herman Glathe, the big German fielder, was the first to face the Yale -twirler. - -Dick took no chances. If he could hold them down for this inning the -game would be won. He pitched skillfully and with care, and the German -fanned. - -“One down, pard,” grinned Buckhart through the wire meshes of his cage. -“Let the good work go on.” - -Sam Allen, the chipper little second baseman, picked up his war club -and squared himself at the pan. - -Merriwell was not hurrying, nor wasting his time. Perfectly calm and -deliberate in his movements, he continued his work in the box, and -Allen presently got a high drop which he decided to strike at when he -saw it coming over in a manner that indicated that it would be good. - -The ball hit the upper side of Allen’s bat and went into the air. - -Like a flash of lightning, Buckhart tore off his mask, whirled, looked -upward, located the ball, and went after it. - -A gust of wind carried the ball farther and farther away, but the Texan -stretched himself amazingly and reached it as it came down. It stuck -fast in the pocket of Brad’s big glove; and the miner’s exasperation -was expressed by the manner in which he fiercely flung his bat toward -the bench. - -Two men were out, and Bill McDonough strode forward with a look of -fierce determination on his face. He had made up his mind to line out -the sphere or die in the attempt. - -The Yale man was equally determined that he should not. He was pitching -as if life and fortune depended on his performance. The torturing pain -in his shoulder was forgotten as he grimly faced the hulking scoundrel -at the plate. - -His first ball looked fine to McDonough. Nevertheless, it shot upward -with a little jump, rising over the miner’s bat as he struck. - -“Strike!” snapped the umpire. - -“Get him, Dick--get him!” implored Tucker. “It will settle everything! -Cook his goose!” - -McDonough set his teeth with a snarl; his eyes gleamed fiercely. - -He was ready with every nerve tense, hoping and desiring to meet -Merriwell’s speed fairly. But now, at this critical point, Dick, after -using a delivery which seemed to prophesy a swift one, handed up the -slowest sort of a slow ball. It came with such exasperating slowness -from the Yale man’s hand, that something actually seemed holding it -back. In spite of everything he could do, McDonough struck too soon. - -A snarl broke from his lips in a sound which was the height of rage -expressed without words. His face turned purple and he gripped the -handle of his bat with all the strength in his great hands. As he -glared ferociously at the cool, half smiling face before him, something -like a haze seemed to gather before his eyes. Before it had passed, -Merriwell whistled over a high, swift ball which cut the plate in -halves. - -McDonough seemed to see something flit past, but it was the spank of -the ball into Buckhart’s glove that told him that Dick had pitched. - -“Out!” cried the umpire. - -With a roar like thunder, the crowd poured down onto the field in a -human cataract from the stand, and, before he could escape, Merriwell -was seized and lifted up on some one’s shoulders. For a moment he -struggled to get away; then, seeing it would be useless, he resigned -himself to the inevitable and waited calmly until their enthusiasm -should cool. - -After marching about the field for a few minutes, they came back to the -clubhouse and allowed him to slip to the ground. As he did so, Orren -Fairchilds hurried up. - -“Wonderful work, my boy,” he exclaimed--“wonderful! By Jove! I never -saw anything like it. It was a fair, square beat; and every bit of it -was due to you--you and that catcher of yours. How did the arm hold -out?” - -Dick made a wry face. - -“It’s not as comfortable as it might be,” he confessed. - -“Well, I won’t keep you,” the mine owner said quickly. “You ought to -get something on it at once. Come around to the club and take dinner -with me to-night about seven--bring your friends with you. The Reform -Club, on Locust Street, you know. Good-by.” - -With a wave of his hand, he disappeared into the crowd; and Dick -hastened into the dressing room of the club. - -A few minutes before seven o’clock that evening Dick drove the _Wizard_ -up to the entrance of the Reform Club, and slipping the plug into his -pocket, alighted with his three friends. - -In the reception hall an attendant came forward. - -“Is Mr. Fairchilds here,” Dick inquired--“Mr. Orren Fairchilds?” - -The man looked at him rather curiously. - -“Are you Mr. Merriwell?” he asked. - -Dick nodded. - -“Kindly take the elevator to the third floor,” the attendant said -quickly. “He asked that you be sent up directly you came. James!” - -A page came forward, and the man said something to him in a low tone. -Then he waved them toward the elevator, and in a moment they were -whisked upstairs. - -The page stepped out first and, going down the hall a few steps, opened -a door and announced clearly: - -“Mr. Merriwell!” - -Dick stopped aghast on the threshold. The room was a private dining -room and not small, yet it seemed to his startled senses to be full of -people. - -“There’s some mistake,” he gasped. “I----” - -The mine owner suddenly appeared and seized his hand. - -“Come in, my boy--come in,” he said briskly. “What are you afraid of? -Just a few people I wanted you to meet.” - -There was a smile on his face, and he winked at Buckhart over -Merriwell’s shoulder. - -As in a daze, Dick followed his host into the room. He had a vague -recollection of being presented to an amazing number of men, who -smiled at him and shook his hand warmly. They were of all ages, -from gray-haired, stout, substantial bankers and merchants, down -to clean-cut, good-looking fellows of his own age, among whom he -recognized smiling Glen Gardiner and most of the other members of the -team. - -One, a tall, handsome man of middle age, with a close-cropped beard and -brilliant, kindly eyes, he heard spoken of as the mayor. - -At length he found himself at one end of a very long table. Orren -Fairchilds was on his left; he had quite lost sight of Brad and the -others. - -Presently the mine owner arose, and, as he did so, the talk and -laughter ceased and silence fell. - -“Gentlemen,” he began slowly. “I have asked you here to-night to meet -a young friend of mine. To many of you his name is well known as that -of the best amateur pitcher in the country. Most of you had a chance of -seeing his work this afternoon, when he pitched nine hard innings with -as perfect form and most wonderful display of headwork that I have -ever seen--and entirely with his left arm. His right was injured, and I -should like to tell you how.” - -He paused. The smile had left his face and his eyes were deep with -feeling. - -“In the mine this morning there was a premature explosion of a blast,” -he went on. “I was caught by the falling rock and pinned to the ground, -unable to stir. As I lay there on my back, I saw a great mass poised -above me, loosened from the top of the tunnel, ready to fall at a -breath and crush the life out of me. My friend, here, saw it too, and -knew that he was risking almost certain death when he sprang to my -assistance and began to drag the rocks off me. - -“I begged him to go and leave me. It seemed useless for us both to -perish. Of course, he refused. The rock began to move. I shrieked to -him to go back, but he did not answer. The next instant he caught me up -and dragged me back just as the mass fell. There had not been a second -to spare. He had saved me at the risk of his own life.” - -The mine owner paused again, and one hand rested affectionately on the -Yale man’s shoulder. Then he leaned forward and took up a brimming wine -glass. - -“Gentlemen,” he said slowly, as he held it up, “I drink to Dick -Merriwell, the gamest pitcher, the truest sport, the bravest man I -know.” - -Like one man, the company rose, holding their glasses high. As with -one voice the shout of “Merriwell--Dick Merriwell!” made the rafters -ring; and they drank the toast standing. Then they subsided into their -chairs, and in the silence which followed, Dick pushed back his chair -and stood up slowly. - -His face was flushed, his eyes bright and, as he looked down that long -line of friendly faces, something clutched his throat. For a moment he -could not utter a word. - -“Thank you,” he stammered huskily. “I--I cannot say--another word, but -just--thank you.” - -He dropped back upon his chair; a thunderous clapping broke forth, and -something like a mist flashed across the Yale man’s eyes and blurred -his sight. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -THREE MEN OF MILLIONS. - - -Marcus Meyer, head of the wealthy firm of jewelers who did business -under the name of the Meyer Diamond Company, was pacing restlessly up -and down his luxuriously fitted up private office on the third floor of -the Commercial Building in Denver. - -He was a smooth-shaven, alert Hebrew of about thirty-nine or forty, -well groomed and clothed with a fastidious taste, which was almost -foppish, in garments of the very latest cut and material. In reality, -however, there was nothing of the fop or fool about Marcus Meyer. He -was a keen, quick-witted business man of extraordinary cleverness, and -had the reputation of knowing more about the inside conditions of the -diamond industry than any other individual west of the Alleghenys, save -only the great Herman Spreckles, of Chicago. - -As he walked restlessly from end to end of the long room, his -troubled eyes sought the ornate clock which slowly ticked away the -minutes on a mantel of carved marble, and every now and then his -slim, well-manicured fingers strayed to his smooth, black hair in an -unconscious gesture of impatience. - -Presently he stopped at one end of the long mahogany table, which -was set around with heavy leather-cushioned chairs, and occupied -the centre of the room. Seated in one of these chairs was a man of -about fifty-five. Short, stout, and comfortable of build, round-faced -and rosy-cheeked, with light-blue eyes in which was a look of -almost infantile innocence, one would never have guessed him to be -the Philander Morgan who held a controlling interest in so many -corporations on the Pacific Coast, and who was reputed to be the -wealthiest man in San Francisco. - -“I can’t understand why he doesn’t come,” complained Meyer, in his -quick, nervous manner. “The train was due at nine-fifteen, and here it -is nearly ten.” - -He took out a handkerchief and passed it over his moist forehead. - -Philander Morgan eyed him quizzically, with a slight pursing of his -lips. - -“Ah, you young men!” he said placidly. “How much vital energy you -waste in worry! You prance about, tear your hair, and get hot -and unpleasantly moist; and what do you gain by making yourself -uncomfortable? Nothing. Spreckles will come because he said he would, -and I have never known him to break his word. There are such an -infinite number of reasons why he should be late that it is useless -to speculate. Take my advice and make yourself comfortable until he -appears.” - -He folded his plump hands and gazed meditatively at the ceiling. - -“I know it’s absurd,” Meyer replied, with a harassed smile; “but I -can’t help it. Besides, I have so much more at stake than you. In -comparison to all the other irons you have in the fire, your interest -in the diamond trade is insignificant. But should this monstrous, -incredible thing prove true, I shall be ruined--totally ruined.” - -Philander Morgan withdrew his eyes from the ceiling and puffed out his -fat cheeks. - -“Tut! tut!” he protested. “Don’t speak of it. Surely you have not -allowed yourself to credit for an instant this wild rumor. It’s -absurd--impossible.” - -The Hebrew tapped nervously with his finger nail on the polished -surface of the table. - -“That’s what I told myself at first,” he said slowly. “I snapped my -fingers at them--I laughed. It was inconceivable, beyond the bounds of -reason. But later, every evidence seemed to point----” - -A loud knock sounded at the door and he broke off abruptly. - -“Come in!” he cried, springing to his feet. - -The door slowly opened and an old man appeared on the threshold. He was -very tall and very thin, with narrow, drooping shoulders and a slow, -almost shambling step. His clothes were mussed and almost threadbare; -but, in spite of that, it needed no more than a glance at the wrinkled -face, the great mane of snow white hair brushed straight back from a -high, broad forehead, the piercing eyes, bright as live coals, gleaming -through big spectacles with rims of tortoise shell, to tell that he was -somebody. - -Such a man was Herman Spreckles, of Chicago. Rumor had it that, besides -his many other interests, he was the moving spirit of a gigantic secret -combination of jewelers which ruled the diamond market of the United -States with a rod of iron. - -Marcus Meyer hurried forward with both hands outstretched. - -“My dear Mr. Spreckles!” he cried joyfully. “I am very glad to see you. -We were beginning to fear that you had missed your train.” - -The tall man sniffed scornfully as he took one of the Hebrew’s hands. - -“Huh! Did you ever know me to miss a train, Meyer?” he inquired. - -Then he looked out in the hall. - -“Come in, Pickering--come in!” he said sharply. “Don’t dawdle out -there.” - -He moved away from the door, and a slim, alert-looking man of about -forty appeared, at the sight of whom Marcus Meyer’s eyes sparkled. - -“Ah--Pickering!” he exclaimed with satisfaction. “I’m glad you’re here. -We shall need the skill of the best diamond expert in the country -before we’re through, or I’m very much mistaken.” - -Meanwhile Herman Spreckles had advanced to the table, where Philander -Morgan arose ponderously to greet him. - -“Ha! You here, too?” inquired the older man, peering through his -spectacles. “This begins to look serious.” - -He shook hands with the stout man and dropped into a chair. - -“Well, Meyer, let us get to business at once,” he said briskly. “I must -take the early afternoon train back. What’s this cock-and-bull yarn -you’ve been writing me about. Begin at the beginning and let us get -through with it. Sit down, man--sit down! You make me nervous stamping -up and down that way.” - -The Hebrew dropped upon a chair and passed his hand over his hair with -a nervous gesture. - -“You both had my letters in cipher,” he began quickly. “You know about -the mysterious diamonds which have been coming in to me for the past -few months with such amazing regularity.” - -Spreckles nodded. - -“Exactly,” he said impatiently. “You purchased them on my instructions -at the prevailing price, and I wired you to ascertain where they came -from. Have you done so?” - -Marcus Meyer made a gesture with his hands. - -“I have, so far as has been in my power. There was no difficulty in -finding out who they came from. Their original source remains as much a -mystery as it was in the beginning. Perhaps, in order that we may have -all the facts clearly, I had better tell the whole story briefly.” - -He looked questioningly at the white-haired Spreckles, who nodded -silently. - -“On the third of March,” Meyer began, “a man came to me and asked -whether I wished to buy some diamonds. I told him, of course, that I -should have to examine them first, whereupon he promptly pulled out of -his pocket an oblong package wrapped in white tissue paper. Imagine my -astonishment when I unrolled it and found within, twenty perfect stones -ranging from one to five carats in weight. They were flawless and of -that exquisite blue-white color which, as you both know, is so sought -after and so rare. I have sold no better stones than those for five -hundred dollars a carat.” - -“And the man?” Herman Spreckles asked quickly. “Where did he say they -came from?” - -“He would not say,” Meyer answered. “He would tell me nothing. He said -that if I did not care to buy them he would go elsewhere. I finally -paid him three hundred and fifty dollars a carat--a great bargain. As -soon as he had gone, I sent for a detective and had inquiries made. The -fellow was one Johnson, a native of Denver, who had been in a variety -of enterprises, none of which were very successful. For the past year -he had apparently done nothing at all, though the report had it that he -lived very well, in a comfortable place on the outskirts of the city, -where he kept an expensive motor car, among other luxuries. His only -intimate was an eccentric fellow named Randolph, who came here from the -East some seven years ago, built an extraordinary fortified dwelling -in the mountains, and has lived there a recluse ever since, supposedly -dabbling in chemical experiments of some sort.” - -“Ha!” exclaimed Spreckles. “You had this fellow Randolph looked up?” - -“Not at once,” returned Meyer. “At the time it seemed to me that he -could have no connection with the diamonds. It was much more probable -that Johnson had stolen or smuggled them; but as the weeks passed -no stones of that description were reported missing, and inquiry -at Washington revealed the fact that there had been no suspicious -purchasing abroad. The day after I received that letter, Johnson -appeared with another packet, which, on opening, I found to be in every -way identical with the first. There were twenty stones of the same -blue-white color, and they weighed, to a fraction of a carat, exactly -what the first had weighed. - -“I was dumfounded. It seemed incredible that such stones as those -could have been brought into the country without my knowing it. I was -positive they had not been stolen. Johnson persisted in his absolute -silence regarding the source from which they came, he was even loath -to let them remain in my hands for three days while my experts made an -exhaustive examination of them. It was then that I wrote to you. I had -already paid out nearly twenty-five thousand dollars for the first lot, -and dared not sink any more money without your sanction.” - -“Quite so,” nodded Spreckles. “You sent on one of the stones, and I -wired you to purchase as many of them as you could, and to find out -their source.” - -“Exactly,” returned Marcus Meyer. “I paid the man and at once set the -detectives on the trail of Randolph, for the thing was becoming too -serious to neglect any clue, however slight. The report they turned in -was singularly complete in some respects, and disappointingly lacking -in others. Scott Randolph is a man of about thirty-two or three. He -comes from a good New England family, and, while he was still in -college, his father died and left him about seventy-five thousand -dollars. He appears not to have any near relatives and but few friends. -He graduated from Yale, and then spent three years at the Sheffield -school of science, where he paid particular attention to chemistry -and mechanics. After leaving New Haven he came directly to Denver, -bought a tract in the mountains and built there a stone house which -is absolutely impregnable. The windows are guarded with iron bars and -steel shutters, the door is of steel like a safe, and, so far as I -could discover, no human being but this Johnson has ever been inside. -His provisions are brought to the door and left there; apparently he -does his own cooking, for there are no servants around.” - -Herman Spreckles lifted a thin, wrinkled hand. - -“Wait,” he said quickly. “What about the men who built the house?” - -“All brought from a distance,” Meyer answered. “None of them could be -located. I did, however, examine a teamster who carted his belongings -from the freight office. This fellow saw a few rooms in the lower -part of the house and confirms the general impression that the place -is as difficult to get into as a fort. Randolph’s belongings were all -carefully crated, but the teamster remembered that many of the crates -were extraordinarily heavy; several, he knew, contained machinery.” - -“At regular intervals Randolph disappears. At first it was supposed -that he had left the house, since no amount of knocking or pounding -could rouse him. After my detectives got on the trail, they kept a -strict watch of the place day and night to catch him when he came forth -or returned, in order to find out where he went. They finally came to -the conclusion that he did not leave the house. He did not issue from -any of the doors or windows. His motor car remained unused in a small -shed to one side of the larger building. It was apparent, therefore, -that he shut himself up alone for some purpose.” - -He paused and looked from one to the other of the two men before him. -They were both intensely interested in his recital. Philander Morgan’s -fat face had lost the look of baby innocence, and had taken on a keen, -alert expression, which quite transformed the man. Spreckles’ shaggy -head was bent slightly forward and from beneath beetling brows his eyes -gleamed like coals as he surveyed the Hebrew. - -“Well,” he said sharply--“well, what was that purpose?” - -Marcus Meyer hesitated, his slim hand straying again to the smooth head. - -“I can think of but one solution,” he said slowly at length. “Wild, -absurd, incredible as it may sound, I think the man has discovered the -secret for which so many scientists have toiled in vain. I believe--he -has found a way--of manufacturing diamonds!” - -The stillness which followed the Hebrew’s amazing statement was so -intense that the slow ticking of the clock on the mantel beat on the -tense nerves of the waiting men like the strokes of a hammer. Suddenly -Philander Morgan snorted incredulously. - -“Ridiculous!” he cried in a shrill voice. “The thing’s impossible!” - -Herman Spreckles made no reply, for several moments his piercing eyes -remained fixed on Meyer’s pale face. Then he turned swiftly toward the -man he had brought with him. - -“Pickering!” - -The name came snapping from his thin, straight lips like the shot of a -pistol, and the young man sprang up from where he had been sitting at -the far end of the table and came forward. - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Is such a thing possible--manufacturing diamonds, I mean.” - -James Pickering hesitated an instant. - -“It has been done,” he said slowly. “Both Edouard Fournier, of Paris, -and Professor Hedwig, of Berlin University, have produced pure -diamonds; but the process was so costly and the resulting stones so -small, that their methods were not commercially practicable.” - -Again silence fell. Spreckles was thinking, while Philander Morgan -sat aghast, with pendulous cheeks and popping eyes. His expression of -dismay would have been ludicrous had the situation not been so serious. - -Marcus Meyer passed a crumpled handkerchief over his moist forehead; -then he began again. - -“I can think of no other explanation,” he said in a low, strained -voice. “The man never leaves his house. His only known accomplice -never leaves Denver. Yet, a few days after these regular periods of -retirement, twenty-five thousand dollars’ worth of exquisite diamonds -are brought to me with the precision of clockwork. They are all of the -same perfect quality and the carat weight of each package is identical. -I could make out my check beforehand and it would be correct.” - -“You have the stones?” Spreckles asked quickly. - -Meyer nodded. - -“All except those in the first lot, which I have sold.” - -“Get them.” - -The Hebrew arose from the table and went over to a great safe in -the corner. Opening this, he took out a small drawer, which he -carried back and placed before the other two men. The contents of -the drawer were hidden by a folded square of black velvet, and when -this was removed and spread out on the polished mahogany, five small, -insignificant-looking packets of white tissue paper were revealed. - -With fingers that trembled a little, Meyer took up one of these -packets, and, unfolding the paper, poured the contents out on the -velvet square. - -There was a glittering cascade of light as they streamed down onto the -velvet and lay against the black surface, a blazing mass, catching the -light from a thousand facets, gleaming with a wonderful fire, until -even Herman Spreckles could not suppress an exclamation of admiration, -as he leaned forward and plucked one between thumb and forefinger. - -“A diamond of the first water,” he said slowly, examining it intently. -“And you tell me that has been made by the hand of man? I won’t believe -it.” - -He turned to Pickering, who stood behind his chair. - -“Look it over, James,” he said, “and let us know what you think of it.” - -The expert’s face was slightly pale and his eyes very bright, but -otherwise he betrayed no signs of emotion as he took the stone from the -old man’s hand and carried it over to one of the windows. Here he fixed -a glass in one eye and began a thorough inspection of the diamond. - -Philander Morgan clasped his chubby hands together nervously. - -“But what are we going to do?” he asked plaintively. “If this man can -make diamonds, the bottom will fall out of the market in no time. We’ll -be ruined. Our stock will be worthless. What are we going to do?” - -Herman Spreckles surveyed him with a cynical gleam in his black eyes. - -“Don’t cry before you’re hurt, Morgan,” he said sarcastically. “Even if -you lose your diamond stock, I hardly think you’ll be a candidate for -the poor house. Besides the stock has not depreciated yet, and it is -our business to see that it does not.” - -He glanced up from under his shaggy brows at the expert, who was coming -back from the window. - -“Well, Pickering, what’s the verdict?” - -“It’s a diamond, all right, Mr. Spreckles,” the man said decidedly. -“I’ll stake my reputation on that. It has all the fire and color of the -best products of the Kimberly mines, and is absolutely flawless. It’s -worth easily five hundred dollars a carat. Whether it is a natural or -manufactured product I cannot tell. Had I not heard the story Mr. Meyer -has just told, I would have sworn that this came from South Africa. As -it is, I frankly confess I am puzzled. If this Randolph has discovered -a process whereby diamonds like this can be made, he has done something -which will cause a world-wide stir, and very probably world-wide ruin -to a vast industry.” - -Philander Morgan moaned a little and wiped his fat face with a large -handkerchief. Marcus Meyer was biting his finger nails nervously. Only -the grim Chicago magnate remained apparently unmoved. - -“Select some from the other packets,” he said tersely, “and examine -them carefully. We must be sure of the facts before we act.” - -The expert selected two stones at random from each of the four unopened -packages, and retired with them to the window. - -Spreckles leaned back in his chair and put the tips of his skinny -fingers together. - -“This Randolph,” he began slowly, “receives mail, I suppose--parcels by -express and by freight?” - -“Very little mail,” the Hebrew answered. “Most of it is apparently -from chemical supply houses and other dealers. He seems to have no -personal correspondence. It is also rare that anything comes to him by -express; but he has a good many pieces of freight, which are invariably -delivered by Johnson. So far as I have been able to discover, they also -come from supply houses and seem to contain chemicals of some sort.” - -“We must make sure,” Spreckles said significantly. “From this moment -Randolph must receive nothing into that house which we do not know of. -Above all, his letters must be examined carefully.” - -Marcus Meyer’s face paled a little. - -“But the government----” he protested. - -“Tut, tut, my dear Meyer!” Spreckles said calmly. “You are a sensible -man, and a clever one. Don’t let us have any foolish qualms when a -matter of such moment is at stake. There are plenty of ways in which -this can be done quietly and safely by a man of your ability. I leave -the details to you, who are on the ground. But I repeat that neither -Randolph nor this man Johnson must receive anything which you have not -previously read or examined. Well, Pickering?” - -The diamond expert returned the stones to their original packets and -faced his employer. - -“They are identical with the first one,” he said quietly. “Perfect, -flawless, and of equal value. I think there can be no question that -their source is the same.” - -“I expected as much,” Spreckles said quietly. “Though I am not an -expert like Pickering, my eyes are still pretty fair, and I have -examined a goodly number of diamonds in my life. That will be all for -the present, James. Be good enough to wait for me downstairs. I will be -through directly and we can take lunch and return on the early train.” - -As the door closed behind the diamond expert, Herman Spreckles bent -forward a little and fixed his eyes keenly on Marcus Meyer. - -“In addition to the precautions I have suggested,” he said quietly, “it -is absolutely necessary for us to obtain an entrance to this house of -Randolph’s and make a thorough examination. That is the most important -step of all. It would be more satisfactory if you yourself could be -present, but I doubt whether that is possible. However, pick your -detectives intelligently, tell them exactly what you want to know, and -the result should be adequate.” - -The Hebrew’s face turned pale and he twisted his fingers nervously -together. - -“But think of the risk,” he objected. “That’s a criminal proceeding. -It’s breaking and entering.” - -The older man waved away his objection impatiently. - -“Don’t be a child, Meyer,” he snapped. “Everything, in this world is a -risk. Do you realize that your very existence is at stake? If we don’t -get at the bottom of this business and stop it, you will be ruined, and -Morgan and I will be severely crippled. Let us have no more of this -foolish squeamishness. Do as I tell you, and do it at once.” - -As he arose, his gaunt height towered above his companions. - -“One more thing,” he went on. “Don’t let the man suspect. Buy all the -diamonds which are offered, and above all keep silent about them. -Should a whisper of this get abroad, a tremendous slump in our stocks -will follow. Keep me advised daily as to your progress. I am taking -the two-fifteen train back. Don’t hesitate to draw on me for money if -you need it. Good-by.” - -He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him, leaving -Philander Morgan and Marcus staring at one another with expressions of -the deepest anxiety and concern. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE MYSTERIOUS MR. RANDOLPH. - - -Rather less than twenty-four hours later Dick Merriwell entered the -lobby of the Brown Palace Hotel and walked directly to the desk. - -“Anything for me on that last mail, Fred?” he asked. - -The clerk turned to the rack behind him. - -“I believe there is, Mr. Merriwell,” he answered. “Yes, here it is. -Only one, though.” - -“That’s all I was expecting,” he returned. - -He walked slowly from the desk, tearing open the envelope as he went. -Close by the door he stopped to glance through the several sheets it -contained. - -“He’s well and flourishing, that’s one good thing,” he murmured. “It’s -so long since the last letter that I was beginning---- By Jove, what a -peculiar coincidence!” - -Without pausing to read further, he folded the letter hastily and -hurried out of the door and down the steps. Waiting at the curb stood -the _Wizard_ in the front seat of which was Brad Buckhart. Letter in -hand, Merriwell sprang up beside him. - -“Say, Brad,” he began eagerly, “talking about coincidences, I’ve got -one here that beats the Dutch. Do you remember that interesting scrap -of conversation we couldn’t help hearing last night in the dining room?” - -“I sure do,” the Texan returned promptly. “The one between the dressy -little Jew and the pudgy gent with the china-blue eyes, you mean?” - -Dick nodded emphatically. - -“That’s it,” he returned quickly. “They were talking about somebody by -the name of Randolph--Scott Randolph, who evidently had something to do -with diamonds.” - -“If I got their lingo straight, he had quite some to do with them,” -Buckhart put in. “Unless I’m a whole lot wrong, those same two gents -were saying that this Randolph manufactured ’em.” - -“It did sound that way,” Merriwell returned; “but of course, that’s -impossible. We must have misunderstood them. At any rate, they were -very secretive about it, for the minute the little fellow noticed us, -he nudged the big man and they shut up like clams.” - -He paused and unfolded the letter he had just received from his brother. - -“Here’s a letter which just came from Frank,” he went on. “He’s well -and very busy and all that. Glad we’re having a nice trip and a lot -more that won’t interest you. Then comes the coincidence. I just want -you to listen to this: - -“‘This will reach you while you are in Denver,’” Dick read. “‘I wish, -if you have time, you would look up an old friend of mine who is -located somewhere near there. He’s a rather retiring chap and doesn’t -care at all for company; but we got to be pretty good friends at Yale, -and afterward kept up a more or less regular correspondence for some -time. I haven’t heard from him in over two years, and several letters -of mine have been unanswered. I’d like to know whether he is still -in the land of the living; and, if so, what he is doing and why he -doesn’t write occasionally. He was a great fellow for experimenting -with chemicals and had the most extraordinary inventive ability and -talent for mechanics that I have ever seen. I fancy he is doing a lot -of experimenting, though he never told me just what he was after. His -name is Scott Randolph. If you find him, tell him I should very much -like to hear from him again.’” - -Dick folded the letter and restored it to the envelope. As he did so, a -card dropped out of the latter and he stooped over to pick it up. - -“Scott Randolph!” the big Texan exclaimed. “Now what do you think -of that? This is a sure enough interesting gent. Mebbe he’s got the -receipt of making diamonds out of these chemicals he experiments with.” - -Dick secured the card from the bottom of the car and tucked it into his -pocket. - -“Just one of Frank’s cards introducing me to his friend,” he said. “I -think I shall do my best to present it. From the way Frank writes about -him, Randolph must be a good sort of a chap, and I’d like to meet him -for other reasons.” - -Buckhart laughed. - -“A chap that can make diamonds must be a very good sort,” he observed. -“I’d sure like to put my blinkers on him. Mebbe he’d present us with a -bushel or two. You hear me softly warble!” - -“That’s all nonsense, of course,” Dick smiled. “We must have -misunderstood those men last night. You know we only heard a few words. -But, all the same, I’d like to meet this Randolph. Now we’ve seen -Tucker and Bigelow off for Colorado Springs, we haven’t a thing on hand -for the rest of the day, and we might as well start on a still hunt -for this friend of Frank’s. I’ll run in and see if Fred knows anything -about where he can be found.” - -He stepped out of the car and reëntered the hotel lobby, walking up to -the desk. The clerk was not busy and turned to him at once. - -“Say, Fred,” Merriwell began, “I’m looking for a man by the name of -Scott Randolph, who is supposed to live in or around Denver. Ever heard -of him? That’s a pretty big order, I know, but you seem to be wise to -the life history of about every one in town.” - -The hotel clerk laughed. - -“You’ve got me this time,” he said. “Scott Randolph? I don’t think I -ever heard of him. What does he do? In business here at all?” - -“I don’t think so,” Dick answered. “I believe he spends most of his -time experimenting with chemicals, or something like that.” - -There was a puzzled look on the clerk’s face as he looked meditatively -across the lobby. All at once his eyes brightened. - -“Say, there’s old Captain Winters sitting over there,” he said. “He’s -the boy that can tell you what you want if anybody can. He’s a regular -old man gossip, and there isn’t much that gets away from him, I can -tell you. If he ever wrote a book and put in it all he knows about -people in this town, you bet your life there’d be things doing. Come -over and I’ll introduce you.” - -He slipped from behind the desk and walked across the lobby, with Dick -at his side, approaching a little, weazened-up old man who was reading -a paper in an armchair close by one of the big windows. - -“Captain Winters,” he said, “I’d like you to meet Mr. Merriwell, who is -looking for some information about a party in town. I told him you’d be -able to give it to him if anybody could.” - -The old man peered at Dick over the tops of his spectacles, extending a -palsied hand. - -“Pleased to meet you, young man,” he piped in a shrill voice. “Pleased -to meet you. Fred’s a great boy to talk. Mebbe I know a thing or two -about folks, but I ain’t telling it all. He, he! I wouldn’t dast. What -was it you was wanting to find out?” - -“I’m looking for a man named Scott Randolph, Captain Winters,” Dick -smiled. “I think he lives somewhere on the outskirts of town.” - -“Scott Randolph!” the old man said sharply. “Why, I’m surprised at -ye, Fred. You’d oughter know who that is. He’s the one that come here -seven or eight years ago an’ built that crazy house like a fort in the -mountains off Bonnet Trail a piece.” - -“Oh, is that the man?” the clerk exclaimed. “I didn’t know his name -was Randolph. Well, I guess you can tell Mr. Merriwell how to get out -there. I must go back to the desk.” - -He left them and Dick dropped into a chair beside the captain. - -“Folks call it ‘The Folly,’” resumed the old man with the peculiar zest -and relish of a born gossip. “It’s built like a fort, with bars to the -winders and a door like a safe. Nobody knows what he does there, but -they do say he invents things. Folks going by has heard enjines going -fit to kill, an’ onct Jake Pettigrew, that keeps the store in Duncan, -seen a great flame o’ fire shoot out o’ the roof. Whatever he’s doing, -he ain’t up to no good, you can depend. It’s agin’ nater an’ the Bible -to fool with the powers o’ darkness.” - -“Did you ever see him, Captain Winters?” Dick asked curiously. - -“Not more’n a couple o’ times, my boy. He don’t come around often. -Sometimes folks don’t set eyes on him for weeks at a time; then again, -he’ll come down to town in his autermobile. He’s a smallish, bald man, -not much to look at. Some say he’s cracked, but I ain’t comitten’ -myself.” - -The captain pursed up his lips and shook his head slowly with the air -of one who could tell a good deal more if he only would. In reality, -he had already exhausted his small store of wisdom regarding Scott -Randolph, who remained a perplexing mystery that the old gossip had -never been able to solve. - -“Can you tell me how I can find this place?” Dick asked. - -“I kin,” answered the captain, “but it ain’t likely to do you much -good, cause he never lets anybody inside the door. Howsomever, you kin -try, if you have a mind to. You know where Bonnet Trail is, I s’pose?” - -“Runs out to the mountains a little south of Georgetown, doesn’t it?” -Dick asked. - -“Yep. About twenty miles out is Duncan. It ain’t much of a place; jest -a few houses an’ Jake Pettigrew’s store. Randolph’s place is some four -miles from there, as I recollect. You’d better ask Jake, though, an’ -he’ll tell you right.” - -Dick arose from the chair. - -“Thank you very much, Captain Winters,” he said, holding out his hand. -“I’m very glad to have met you, and shall see you again while I’m here.” - -“Don’t mention it,” returned the old man. “Let me know if you get inter -Randolph’s. I’m kinder curious.” - -“I will,” Dick laughed, turning toward the door. - -Buckhart yawned openly as his friend appeared beside the car. - -“Say, pard,” he drawled, “why didn’t you stay a couple of minutes -longer and clean up the hour. I reckoned you were plumb lost and was -just thinking of organizing a searching party of one to locate you.” - -Cranking the engine, Dick squeezed past the Texan and took his seat at -the wheel. - -“I couldn’t break away from the old party who was telling me about our -friend Randolph,” he explained. “He seems to be something of a mystery -to the people around here. In fact, it is quite doubtful whether we -shall be let into his place, once we’ve found it.” - -“Say you so?” Brad inquired interestedly. “Let’s hear about it.” - -Threading his way through the streets, Merriwell narrated for -Buckhart’s benefit the curious story, or rather fragment of a story, he -had just heard from Captain Winters; and by the time they reached the -outskirts of the city and wheeled into Bonnet Trail, the Westerner had -all the particulars and was as much interested as his chum. - -“Looks like there was something queer about this gent, pard,” he -remarked. “My curiosity has sure riz up on its hind legs.” - -The road was extremely bad, being full of ruts and bumps and apparently -not much traveled, so that it took them a good two hours to reach -Duncan, where Dick drew up in front of the one store the small place -boasted. A tall, lank individual in shirt sleeves and cowhide boots -lounged in the doorway, chewing a straw. - -“Are you Mr. Pettigrew?” Dick asked, stopping the engine. - -“I are,” was the laconic reply. - -“Can you tell me how I can get to Mr. Randolph’s place?” - -Jake Pettigrew nearly swallowed the straw in his surprise, and was some -time recovering it. When he had done so, his face was rather flushed -and in his eyes there was a look of unmistakable interest. - -“Randolph’s place?” he exclaimed. “The Folly, you mean?” - -“That’s what they call it, I believe,” Merriwell answered. - -“Take the footpath just beyond Injun Head Rock,” the lanky man -directed, resuming with an evident effort his air of indifference. -“It’s about four miles along the trail. You can’t miss it, ’cause -the rock looks like the head of an Injun. ’Tain’t of’en Randolph has -callers.” - -“So I understand,” Dick said. “Is he at home, do you know?” - -“So help me, no,” the man answered hastily. “He may be, or he mayn’t. I -don’t know nothin’ about him.” - -The Yale man thanked him, and with the engine started, the car -continued up the hilly trail on second speed. They passed the rocky -peak which, strange to say, really did bear some resemblance to an -Indian’s head, and a few hundred yards beyond came to a clearly defined -track leading from Bonnet Trail up into the foothills. - -Dick turned the car in to one side of the road well out of the way. -Pocketing the coil plug, he followed Buckhart out of the machine, and -they started up the narrow, rocky track on foot. - -It wound straight up into the mountains, hugging the steep wall on one -side, while on the other the ground fell away abruptly into a multitude -of gorges and ravines. Sometimes the descent was precipitous and the -track seemed almost to be hung in mid-air over an abyss, while at other -places the slope was more gradual and covered with great boulders, -mingled with a heavy growth of pine and bushes. - -At length they rounded a sharp turn and came out on a fairly level -plateau, perhaps a hundred yards in diameter, completely hemmed in on -three sides by high cliffs, while on the fourth it fell away abruptly -into a deep ravine. - -Facing them, and built against the highest cliff, was a stone house, -which they at once made certain was the one they sought. - -It was large and square, and composed entirely of the same dark, somber -rock of which the surrounding mountains were made. Hugging, as it did, -the cliff, it was somewhat hard to distinguish just where the natural -rock ended and the house began. This difficulty was increased by the -fact that the dwelling was in reality built into a sort of depression -in the side of the cliff, the jagged top of which overhung the roof. - -In the middle of the front side was a large door that seemed to be -closed by a single sheet of iron or steel, while the windows, even on -the upper floors, were protected by stout iron bars and some sort of -inside shutters. - -Taken all in all, it was a most dreary, desolate, prison-like -structure, to which the surrounding barriers of jagged, gray cliffs, -hard, bare, with no relieving touch of green, added an almost sinister -grimness. - -“By George, pard, what a place to live in!” Buckhart said in a low -tone. “I’d as soon bunk up in a prison.” - -The depressing influence of the surroundings was so great that, -unconsciously, the Texan had lowered his voice almost to a whisper. - -His companion did not answer. His head was bent slightly forward and -there was look of keen intentness in his eyes. The next moment he spoke. - -“Listen!” he said softly. “What’s that noise?” - -In the silence which followed, a faint, regular, scraping sound came -from their right. It was so slight that for a minute or two neither of -them could place it. At length they decided that it came from around -the corner of the building, a spot which they could not see from their -present position at the entrance of the plateau. - -Scrape, scrape, scrape. Scratch, scratch, scratch. It sounded, with the -regularity of clockwork. - -Buckhart eyed his chum with a puzzled expression on his face. - -“What the deuce is it?” he whispered. - -“I’m not sure,” Dick returned, “but it sounds like filing--as though -somebody was filing an iron bar. I’m going to find out.” - -He dropped down on his hands and knees and commenced to creep slowly -through the scattered boulders to the right. Brad promptly followed -him, and in less than five minutes they were ensconced behind a great -rock, from which a very good view of that side of the house could be -obtained. - -There was a momentary pause, and then they both peered cautiously -around the corner of the boulder. - -The next moment the Texan caught his breath with a sudden, swift -intake, his eyes widened with astonishment. Dick, crouching beside him, -pressed his chum’s arm warningly, without for an instant averting his -own gaze from the surprising sight before them. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THE MYSTERIOUS HOUSE. - - -On the ground floor of this side of the house were two windows, barred -and shuttered like the rest, and, crouching in a group about the one -nearest the cliff, were four men. - -They were roughly dressed in dark clothes and slouch hats, and their -faces were completely covered with black masks. One of them was on -his knees cutting methodically at the bottom of an iron bar, while a -companion stood by his side, a bottle of oil in his hand, from which -he occasionally poured a few drops on the saw. The other two men stood -a little to one side, taking no part in the work, but watching its -progress with every sign of intense interest. - -When they had fully taken in what was going on, the two chums drew -back into the shelter of the boulder and Dick eyed his companion -significantly. - -“Looks as though some one was even more interested in Randolph than we -are,” he murmured. - -“That’s what,” Buckhart returned softly. “Did you ever see anything -like their nerve, breaking into a man’s house in broad daylight?” - -At that moment the filing ceased and the watchers looked out just in -time to see two of the masked men take the bar in their hands and -slowly bend it upward. That done, the fellow promptly commenced work on -the next bar. - -He had scarcely done so when the sound of some one carelessly whistling -a tune, came faintly from a distance. - -The effect was magical. The man at the bar sprang to his feet with an -oath and dropped his file. The other three looked around in a startled -manner, and there was a brief, hurried consultation between all four. - -The whistle grew louder and more distinct. To Dick it seemed that the -sound came from the ravine to the left of the house, but he was too -much interested in the proceedings of the masked men, to pay particular -attention to it. - -After a swift interchange of words, the group split up and, hugging the -wall of the house, stole noiselessly in single file toward the front -corner. - -The situation was growing more and more interesting. By squirming -forward a little, Merriwell managed to reach a spot where he had a good -view of both the front and side of the house. The next moment, to his -amazement, he saw the head and shoulders of a man appear at the edge of -the ravine and step up on the plateau. - -Short and slim, he was dressed in a suit of khaki with leggings, as -though he had been riding or taking a long walk. As he sauntered toward -the door with a springy step, his cheery whistle sounded out of place -in the gloomy desolation of the silent spot. - -Dick caught his breath and his heart beat a trifle unevenly. The -foremost of the masked men had almost reached the corner of the house -when the whistling stopped and the slim unknown slipped his hand into -his pocket and pulled out what was apparently a key. - -Something was going to happen, and that very soon. Merriwell felt it -instinctively and waited, muscles taut and nerves quivering, for the -first move to be made. The Texan crouched behind him, also ready for -business. Though he could not see the man at the door, Dick’s eyes were -riveted on the four masked ruffians, who betrayed by their actions -that they were up to no good. - -The slim man fitted the key into a lock; and then, with the resulting -click, there was a rush of feet from the corner of the house as the -masked men came at him in a bunch. - -Though taken by surprise, the fellow at the door was quick as a cat. -Whirling around, his back to the opening, he met the first comer with a -straight blow from the shoulder which sent him reeling back against one -of his companions. But the odds were too great, and almost instantly -the man in khaki was borne to the ground by the sheer weight of his -opponents, though he still continued to struggle desperately. - -It was then that the two Yale men took a hand in the game. A swift rush -carried them across the plateau, where they landed on the masked men -with the demoralizing suddenness of a thunderbolt. - -In grim silence each one seized a collar and jerked a man to his feet, -at the same time administering a swift jab on the jaw which sent the -fellows sprawling a dozen feet away. This performance was repeated with -the other two, and, as the ruffians landed on the ground with a thud, -the unknown sprang up with the elasticity of a rubber ball. - -“Thank you, gentlemen,” he said in a quick, incisive voice. - -One hand slid to his hip pocket and he drew a serviceable-looking -revolver, which he leveled at the masked men, who apparently about to -resume their attack. - -“Get!” he ripped out tersely, his eyes gleaming. “Beat it! Vamoose! If -you’re not out of sight in three minutes I’ll drill you full of holes.” - -The tallest of the four--the one who had done the filing--seemed -inclined to disregard the warning, but one of his companions plucked -him by the arm and whispered a few words into his ear. - -“Skip!” repeated the slim man. “I mean what I say. The next time -I catch you around here I’ll shoot first and you can explain -afterward--if you’re able.” - -Without further delay, the men turned and hurried toward the trail. The -unknown watched them until they were out of sight, and then he wheeled -quickly around. - -“I seem to have an unexpected influx of callers to-day,” he remarked. -“Might I ask your business?” - -His tone was cool and self-possessed, but he shoved the revolver back -into his pocket as he spoke. - -“You are Mr. Randolph,” Dick inquired--“Mr. Scott Randolph?” - -The stranger nodded and his eyes narrowed. - -“I am,” he said tersely. “And you?” - -The Yale man took a card from his pocket and handed it to the other. - -“My name is Merriwell,” he said, quietly. “My brother asked me to give -you this.” - -As his eyes fell on Frank Merriwell’s card with the brief written -words, “Introducing my brother Dick,” the cold, questioning, almost -skeptical expression, instantly left Scott Randolph’s face, and his -keen, gray eyes softened with a look of friendliness, mingled with -regret. - -“I’m awfully glad to meet Frank’s brother,” he said warmly, as he -extended his hand. “The more so since you came just in time to help me -out of a tight place. I hope you don’t think I’m ungrateful because -I didn’t enthuse at first. The truth is, I’ve got so I look at every -one with more or less suspicion, and, even though you did knock those -ruffians around some, I couldn’t understand what you were doing here.” - -Dick shook his hand heartily. - -“Don’t mention it,” he smiled. “I think I understand a little of what -you mean. It was rather startling to have four masked men pile onto you -and then be assisted by two others who were total strangers. This is my -friend Brad Buckhart, Mr. Randolph.” - -Randolph gripped the Texan’s hand warmly and then looked at Dick again. - -“How is Frank?” he asked quickly. “Though I don’t deserve to know, -after the beastly way I’ve neglected him lately. He was my friend at -Yale--almost the only fellow I could really call a friend; but so much -has happened in the past few years----” - -He broke off abruptly and his face sobered. - -“Perhaps some day you’ll understand,” he finished slowly. “Tell me -about Frank.” - -“He’s well and happy, and absorbed in his work,” Dick returned. “He -wanted me to look you up and see what you were doing and why you hadn’t -written.” - -Scott Randolph suddenly pulled out his watch and looked at it with a -worried expression. - -“By Jove, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, his face clouding. “I’d forgotten. -I can’t stay here another minute--can’t even ask you in. I have a most -important--engagement. It’s frightfully inhospitable, but I can’t very -well explain. Say, won’t you both come back and take dinner with me at -six o’clock? You can spend the evening, and we’ll have a good talk. I -can’t tell you how beastly sorry I am.” - -Though Dick was rather surprised, nothing of it appeared in his manner. - -“Why, I think we can,” he said slowly. “We’ve nothing on for to-night -and we might come.” - -“That’s splendid!” Randolph exclaimed, in a tone of relief. “Come at -six, and I’ll be ready for you.” - -He had already picked up the key from where it had dropped to the -ground and was fitting it into the lock with feverish haste. The two -Yale men started away, when Dick suddenly remembered something. - -“Those fellows were filing a bar in one of your windows,” he called -back. - -Randolph did not turn his head. - -“Thanks,” he said hurriedly. “I’ll look after it presently.” - -The next instant he had disappeared inside the house, and the steel -door closed with a clang which resounded through the rocky gorge. As -the two friends hesitated at the entrance to the plateau, they heard -the click of the key and the sound of a bolt being shot home. Then -silence fell. - -Neither of the two chums spoke a word until they were well along the -narrow track and the stone house was out of sight. Then Buckhart -stopped suddenly. - -“Well, of all the wild, woolly, mysterious goings on,” he burst out, -“this has sure got any I ever bumped up against skinned a mile. Say, -pard, tell me honest what you think of a gent who is piled on by four -bad men with masks, and as soon as we politely rescue him, he looks at -us like we were bunco steerers, and asks our business. Furthermore, -when he’s found out we’re fairly respectable he gives us the glad hand, -and the next minute tells us to run away and play, and come back to -dinner. I tell you there’s something a whole lot queer about this here -Randolph. You hear me talk!” - -“He certainly seems to be a trifle odd in his behavior,” Dick returned. -“But, all the same, I rather like his looks. Wait until after to-night -before we pass final judgment on him. He may have a pretty good reason -for everything he’s done. Come on, Brad, don’t waste time here. It -evidently hasn’t occurred to you that the gentlemen with masks may have -taken a fancy to the _Wizard_ and made a quick getaway in her.” - -“Great Scott, no!” the Texan gasped. “I never thought of that.” - -Almost at a run, they covered the rest of the narrow path, and both -gave an exclamation of relief as they reached Bonnet Trail and found -the car safe and sound where they had left it. - -“Gee, what a relief!” Dick said, as he gave the crank a flip and -stepped into his seat. “I hadn’t the slightest desire to hoof it back -to Denver; and in these parts a stolen car is a mighty hard thing to -get track of.” - -Turning the _Wizard_ deftly, he started her back toward the city. An -animated discussion at once arose concerning the mysterious Scott -Randolph, his personality, his peculiar dwelling, and above all, his -probable occupation, which continued until the hotel was reached; -without, it must be confessed, arriving at any very satisfactory -solution on any of the points. - -Promptly at a quarter before six that night the _Wizard_ again passed -Jake Pettigrew’s store, causing that worthy to gasp in surprise and -instantly to be assailed with the awful pangs of ungratified curiosity. - -The car did not stop. Disappearing up the hill in a cloud of dust, it -was guided to the spot where it had rested earlier in the day, and the -two fellows stepped out and walked briskly up the narrow path. - -As they reached the plateau both men hesitated instinctively, their -eyes traveling curiously over the front of the strange building. The -sun was low in the west, and the frowning, battlemented cliffs cast -weird, purpling shadows over the desolate spot. Out of these shadows -rose the grim, gray, silent walls of the house. No cheerful ray of -light penetrated through the steel shutters of the barred windows -to welcome the expected guests. They were like the eye sockets in a -skull--gaunt, dark, expressionless. A thousand things might happen -behind those walls of which they would never give a hint. - -With a shrug of his shoulders, the Texan likened the place to a tomb, -and they walked forward and beat a resounding blow upon the door. - -It was opened almost instantly, and Scott Randolph stood smiling on the -threshold, his slim figure silhouetted against the blaze of light which -streamed from the hall behind him. - -“You’re on time to the minute,” he said briskly. “Come in and make -yourselves at home.” - -Blinking in the glare of light, which was as grateful as it was -unexpected, Dick and Brad stepped into the hall. Randolph swiftly -clanged the door to behind them and shot the bolt. - -“Where did you leave your car?” he asked, turning to them. “I assume -that you came in one.” - -“Out on the trail,” Dick answered. “I reckon it’s safe, isn’t it?” - -The older man laughed. - -“Sure thing,” he said. “There’s hardly any one uses the trail after -dark. I have a little car which I keep in a shed a couple of miles this -side of Duncan, but it’s no pleasure to use it on Bonnet Trail, so I -don’t often take the trip in to Denver. Well, what do you think of my -castle? Want to look around before dinner?” - -The Yale men gave an instant eager assent. The glimpse they had -already had of the broad, comfortably furnished hall, with its rugs -and pictures and easy-chairs scattered about, all brilliantly lighted -by the clusters of electric globes suspended from the ceiling, had -amazed them and stimulated their curiosity. Somehow, it was so totally -different from what they had expected, that Dick could not help -commenting on it. - -Scott Randolph laughed heartily. - -“Did you expect to see bare prison walls and a stone floor?” he asked, -when he had recovered his breath. “I don’t know that I blame you, -though. The outside of the place does look pretty fierce, but I had -special reasons for wanting it that way, and I tried to make up for it -as well as possible inside.” - -He opened a door to the left of the hall and stood aside for them to -enter. - -“This is my library and general lounging room,” he explained. “It takes -up this whole side of the house.” - -The room, a good fifty feet long and half as wide, was lined with -bookshelves crowded to overflowing. A great stone fireplace occupied -the centre of the outside wall, a piano stood in one corner, and all -about were scattered comfortable chairs and couches, together with -several tables on which were shaded electric lamps. The floor was -covered with rugs and skins of various sorts. - -“What a dandy room!” Dick exclaimed enthusiastically. “I don’t know -when I’ve seen one more homelike or attractive.” - -“It’s where I rest from my labors and enjoy myself,” Randolph said -lightly. “We’ll settle down here after dinner and have a good talk.” - -He led the way to the hall again and started upstairs. Then he seemed -to change his mind. - -“Let’s have dinner first and do that afterward,” he said. “Aren’t you -fellows hungry?” - -Confessing that they might be induced to partake of food, they followed -him through the door opposite the one leading into the library. Though -not quite two-thirds the size of the big room, the dining room was -still spacious. The furniture was of dark oak, simple but substantially -made, the table being spread with a spotless linen cloth and lighted -with shaded candles in silver candlesticks. There were places laid for -three; a large, oblong chafing dish stood at one end, while in the -middle of the table were several covered dishes. - -Randolph motioned them to their places, taking his seat in front of the -chafing dish. - -“You fellows will have to be charitable to-night,” he remarked, as he -took off the cover and laid it aside. “My work is of such a nature that -it is impossible for me to have servants of any kind about, and, as a -result, I have grown accustomed to looking after things myself.” - -Dick looked at him in surprise. - -“Do you mean to say that you never have any one here to cook or clean -up?” he asked. - -Scott Randolph hesitated. - -“Well, not exactly that,” he said slowly. “I have a fri--a man who -comes in and helps me occasionally; but as a rule I look after myself. -It isn’t hard when you’ve grown used to it, and the chafing dish is a -great help. Of course, when I’m alone, as I generally am, I don’t do -things elaborately.” - -His apology for the meal was quite unnecessary, for it was delicious -and cooked to perfection. The two fellows enjoyed every mouthful of it, -marveling how a man could live so well in a place that was so out of -the way as to be almost in a wilderness. - -Scott Randolph was an ideal host. Bright, witty, and entertaining -in his conversation, he had, when he chose to exert himself, an -extraordinary charm of manner. By the time they arose from the table -and returned to the library, both Merriwell and Buckhart had made up -their minds that he was a very good sort indeed, and were not surprised -that he had been a friend of Frank. - -They settled down comfortably on a couch, and for nearly an hour Dick -regaled his host with everything he could think of that would interest -him regarding Frank’s doings, even giving him the latter’s letter to -read. - -“I shall write to him to-morrow,” Randolph said contritely, when the -Yale man had finished. “I’m afraid, living in seclusion as I do, with -scarcely any relaxation from an absorbing and interesting work, I’ve -grown selfish. I don’t want Frank to think I’ve forgotten him, for I -haven’t. One makes few enough real friends in this world, and a fellow -is lucky to have one like your brother.” - -Dick hesitated for an instant. - -“Would it be impertinent if I asked what your work is?” he asked -slowly. “Frank was very much interested in it.” - -Randolph cast a swift glance at Buckhart, who was examining the -bookshelves at the other end of the room. - -“Shall you see Frank soon?” he asked, lowering his voice. - -“Probably within a few weeks,” Dick returned. “I’ll drop in on him on -my way back to New Haven.” - -“Then I will tell you, but you must not write it to him. You must tell -it to him only by word of mouth, and then when he is alone. I shall -have to ask for your word of honor that you will say nothing to any -other living soul of what I am about to confide in you. Will you pledge -me this?” - -The Yale man did not reply at once. What could be the nature of a work -which required such secrecy as this? - -“I assure you it is necessary,” Randolph went on in the same low tone. -“If the slightest hint of my discovery should leak out, it would -precipitate the greatest panic this country--nay, the world--has ever -seen.” - -Dick gave a slight start. A sudden thought had flashed into his brain. -Could it be possible that---- He recovered himself quickly. - -“I give you my word, of course,” he said gravely. “I shall say nothing -to any one but Frank of what you have to tell me.” - -Randolph breathed a sigh of relief as he bent closer to the Yale man. -His voice was so low that the latter had to strain his ears to hear. - -“Listen,” he murmured. “I have discovered the process of making -diamonds. Not tiny pinheads such as Fournier of Paris has produced, but -stones of any size I wish, which the greatest experts in the country -cannot distinguish from the natural gems. By the merest chance in my -experimenting, I have stumbled upon the secret for which men have -sought since the world began; and wealth beyond the dreams of avarice -is in my grasp.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -IN THE SHADOW OF THE CLIFFS. - - -For a moment Merriwell sat dazed and bewildered. It was true, then! -Those few muttered words, overheard by chance the night before in the -dining room of the Brown Palace, were true, and not wild figments of -the imagination as he had supposed them. Somehow it did not occur -to him for an instant to doubt Scott Randolph. Perhaps, had he not -heard that stifled scrap of conversation, he might not have believed -so readily this amazing, incredible statement. But it seemed to fit -in so well with what Randolph had just told him--to confirm it, in a -way--that he felt no doubt. - -“Then what they said is true,” he murmured, his eyes fixed in wonder on -the face of the slim man beside him. - -Randolph suddenly stiffened as though an electric current had passed -through his body. - -“Who said?” he rasped. “What did they say? Quick, tell me!” - -Dick repeated the scrap of conversation he and Brad had heard in the -hotel dining room, and as he listened Randolph’s face paled. - -“Who were they?” he asked in a strained voice, “What did they look -like?” - -Dick shook his head. - -“I don’t know who they were. One was a medium-sized Jew, very carefully -dressed; the other a stout man with a fat face and small blue eyes. -The expression on his face was like that of a peevish baby. They both -looked like men of importance.” - -“Marcus Meyer!” Randolph exclaimed, with a sigh of relief. “I don’t -know the other one, but Meyer controls the diamond trade in the Middle -West. They don’t really know; they only guess. But even if they were -sure, they would keep it quiet for their own sakes.” - -Buckhart strolled toward them at that moment. - -“You folks must have Frank talked to death,” he drawled. - -“We’ve just finished,” the older man said, with a smile, as he rose -from the couch. “Would you boys like to look about upstairs?” - -In one breath the Yale men expressed their readiness, following their -host out into the hall and up the broad stairs. Randolph touched a -button at the top of the flight which flooded the upper hall with -light. The next instant Dick thought he heard him draw a sudden, quick -breath. Buckhart heard nothing, for he had dived promptly into an open -door close to the head of the stairs. - -“Any light in here?” he called. - -Scott Randolph hesitated for the fraction of a second and then pressed -a button on the wall. - -“By George!” the Texan exclaimed. “This is sure a funny room. What’s it -for, anyhow?” - -Stepping to the door, Dick looked in. The room was a small one, not -more than twelve feet square, and had neither doors nor windows, -nor any other opening save the entrance. It was absolutely bare of -furnishings, with not even a shelf on the wall nor a scrap of paper on -the floor. There was nothing but the four walls of gray stone. - -“Looks like a vault,” Buckhart remarked. - -“It does, doesn’t it?” Randolph said slowly. “But the only treasures -I have kept there are expensive chemicals which cannot be exposed to -light or air or dampness. If I should shut this door on you, I venture -to say that in two hours at the latest, you would have exhausted every -bit of oxygen in the place; and since it is absolutely air tight----” - -“Say, don’t!” the Westerner exclaimed, with an expression of mock -dismay. “Let me amble out, quick!” - -Scott Randolph laughed as Buckhart came out of the room, but his -eyes narrowed a little when the Texan caught sight of the peculiar -construction of the door. Instead of being of wood, it was of sheet -steel. On one side were cemented slabs of stone so that, when closed, -it would be absolutely impossible for a person inside to locate that -door. On the outer side it was covered with the same oak paneling with -which the hall was lined, and there were no signs of lock or catch, not -even so much as a doorknob or latch. - -“That’s certain sure a neat job,” Brad commented. “When it’s shut -nobody can tell where it is. Regular secret room, isn’t it?” - -“That was one of my hobbies,” the man of mystery explained. “When it is -shut, I can push a secret spring which slides a powerful bolt and holds -the door so that it would be easier to tear down the wall than to open -it.” - -He switched off the light and closed the door. Both Dick and Brad -examined the wall closely, but neither of them could tell between which -panels the joint came. - -The remainder of the second floor was divided up into five bedrooms and -a bathroom, the water for which was pumped into a tank on the roof by a -windmill on the cliff above. Passing by a door at the end of the hall, -which, as their host mentioned casually, opened into a store closet, -they mounted to the next floor, which was given over entirely to the -laboratory and experimenting rooms. - -They were all filled with a multitude of machines and pieces of -apparatus, many being of strange shapes and unknown uses. Randolph -stepped forward to explain one of these to the Texan, giving Dick a -significant glance, and at the same moment pulling open a drawer in a -cabinet which stood against the wall. - -Merriwell had difficulty in restraining an exclamation of amazement, -for the drawer was half full of the most beautiful diamonds he had ever -seen. They were of varying sizes from a pea to a small hickory nut, and -Dick gave a stifled gasp as he looked at the shimmering, glittering -blaze of light. - -The man closed the drawer with a snap and turned to the visitors, -his face a trifle pale. The drawer contained a king’s ransom. It -seemed beyond the bounds of reason that they could have been actually -manufactured by this slim, quiet man. - -“But how do you get away from this place without anybody seeing you?” -the Texan was asking. “People say you’re away for weeks at a time, but -no one sees you go or come.” - -Scott Randolph threw back his head and laughed heartily. - -“That’s very simple,” he said. “I don’t go away. When a passion for -work comes over me I shut myself up and absolutely refuse to open the -door to any one. It’s the only way I can accomplish anything. They may -hammer and pound all they like, but I pay no attention to it. That’s -one of the reasons why I had this house built like a fortified castle. -I can shut myself up in it and work undisturbed. - -“Of course, I have to lay in a big supply of eatables, and so forth. -For instance, this very afternoon I got in a big order from Jake -Pettigrew’s store; and, when you have gone to-night and the door is -locked behind you, I shall begin one of these periods of retirement in -order to complete some very important work. Nothing short of blowing -the house down would induce me to open the door again.” - -As he finished he cast a significant glance at Dick, who thought he -understood what that important work would be. - -After looking about a little longer, they descended to the lower hall. - -Glancing at his watch, Dick saw that it was almost ten o’clock. - -“It’s about time we were wandering,” he said. “I can’t tell you how -much I have enjoyed myself, Mr. Randolph. It is very good of you to -have us up here, and I shall be careful in delivering your message to -Frank.” - -“The pleasure has been mine, I assure you,” Randolph returned, as he -shook hands with the Yale men. “It is not often that I have such a -relaxation. I am only sorry that the pressure of work will not allow -me to see you again. However, we shall meet somewhere, some time. The -world is very small, after all. Good-by, fellows, and good luck.” - -As he spoke, he swung open the great steel door, and, with a cordial -good-by, Merriwell and Buckhart went out into the night. For a brief -instant they stood in the brilliant square of light which poured out of -the doorway. Then it was suddenly blotted out as the door clanged and -the bolt was shot. - -“He’s sure not running any chances,” Buckhart remarked, as they -stumbled forward through the darkness. “I reckon his work must be -mighty important when he has to shut himself up in a prison to do it.” - -Dick made no answer. He could scarcely say anything on that score -without committing himself, so they felt their way along in silence -until they struck the road. Their eyes becoming accustomed to the -darkness, they made much better time to Bonnet Trail, where they found -the _Wizard_ safe and sound as they had left her. - -Merriwell turned on the prestolite and lit the lamps, before cranking -her. Then, circling around, he started slowly down the road toward the -city. - -As they passed Pettigrew’s store a voice suddenly hailed them from the -dark piazza: - -“Hey, there, you fellows!” - -Dick stopped the car and looked back. - -“You want us?” he asked. - -Pettigrew’s lank figure loomed up out of the darkness as he hurried to -the side of the _Wizard_. His lively curiosity had made it impossible -for him to sleep, and he had been sitting alone on the piazza for some -time waiting for the return of the Yale men. - -“I jest wondered how you made out up to The Folly?” he remarked, with -an attempt at casualness. - -Dick laughed. - -“Why, we had a very good dinner and passed a pleasant evening there,” -he replied. - -“Waal, I swan!” ejaculated the storekeeper. “I reckon you’re the only -fellers, ’ceptin’ Al Johnson, as is ever been inside the place. What’s -it look like? What’d you have fur supper?” - -“It’s just like any other house inside,” the Yale man answered. “You -ought to know what we had for supper, you furnished the supplies, -didn’t you?” - -“I did not!” snapped Pettigrew. “I of’en wondered why this here -Randolph don’t git his stuff here. It’s nearer nor anywhere else.” - -Dick hesitated a moment. - -“Didn’t Mr. Randolph leave a big order with you this afternoon?” he -asked. - -“No, nor any other arternoon,” the storekeeper returned promptly. “He -never bought a cent’s worth offen me.” - -This was evidently a sore point, for the man displayed considerable -heat. - -“Well, we must be getting on,” Dick said, as he let in his clutch. -“Good night, Mr. Pettigrew.” - -As the car glided away, Merriwell was thinking over this new discovery. -Randolph had certainly told them of getting in a large order of -supplies from Pettigrew’s that afternoon, and yet the storekeeper had -just declared most emphatically that the man had never bought a cent’s -worth from him. Randolph must have been lying. Why had he done so? What -possible reason could he have for wishing to deceive them? - -The next instant he put his hand up quickly to his breast pocket. - -“By Jove, what a chump I am!” he exclaimed in a tone of annoyance. - -“What’s the matter now, pard?” the Texan inquired. - -Dick stopped the car with a jerk. - -“I’ve left my pocketbook back at Randolph’s,” he explained. - -“Are you sure you left it there?” Brad asked. “Mebbe you dropped it in -the car.” - -“No; I left it in the library,” Merriwell returned positively. “I -remember now taking it out to get Frank’s letter, which Randolph wanted -to read. I laid it on the couch, intending to replace the letter when -he had finished. Instead, I must have put it in my pocket and left the -bill case lying there. We’ll have to go back. It contains all my money -and a lot of other things.” - -He jammed on the reverse and, by dint of careful manœuvring, turned the -car around and started back. In a few minutes the path was reached, -and they scrambled out and hurried along it as rapidly as they could. - -Under the bright starlight they had no trouble in finding their way; -but reaching the plateau and facing the grim, stone building, it seemed -even more desolate and deserted than when they had left it half an hour -before. Under the shadow of the towering cliffs, the house loomed up a -vague, mysterious bulk. - -It did not seem possible that there could be a living soul behind those -dark, silent walls; but it had looked that way before, and the opening -door had revealed a bright glow of cheerful comfort. Consequently the -two hastened confidently to the entrance and Dick knocked loudly on the -steel door. - -The sound reverberated in a hollow manner which seemed loud enough to -wake the dead, and they waited expectantly for a response. But none -came. Their keen ears could detect no sound of footsteps within; the -massive door remained closed. - -After five minutes of patient waiting, Dick was raising his hand to -knock again when Buckhart gave a sudden exclamation. - -“By George, pard! I’ll bet we can knock here all night without his -coming. Don’t you remember what he said about shutting himself in after -we were gone, and paying no attention to anybody or anything?” - -“Yes, I remember that, all right,” Dick answered; “but I thought that, -coming so soon after our departure, he would guess who it was and come -down to----” - -He broke off abruptly and looked swiftly upward. - -“Listen!” he exclaimed in a low voice. - -In the silence which followed there came faintly to their straining -ears an odd, muffled humming. For a moment they both thought it was one -of the pieces of machinery in Randolph’s laboratory, but very soon -they reached the conclusion that it was much farther away than that. It -seemed to come, in fact, from high up among the cliffs which towered -above the house. - -Dick looked at his friend significantly. - -“It’s a gasoline engine,” he whispered. - -Buckhart nodded silently. It certainly sounded very much like one. - -“What the mischief is it doing up there on the mountain?” he asked -presently. - -There was no chance for Merriwell to reply. The humming increased as -though the engine was speeding up, followed by a strange rustling, -creaking noise unlike anything they had ever heard. Suddenly before -their astonished eyes, a vast, black, shadowy shape rose slowly from -the cliffs and hovered an instant in the air high above them. There -was a majestic sweep of great wings, as it made a wide, half circle; -then it shot northward into the darkness, gathering momentum at every -instant, and a moment later the muffled hum of the engine died away in -the distance. - -“Thundering coyotes! What was that?” the Texan exclaimed, when he had -recovered from his surprise. - -“An aëroplane, I should say,” Dick returned quietly, though his voice -quivered with suppressed excitement. - -This new development added tremendously to the mystery with which the -personality of Scott Randolph was surrounded, for it must belong to -him. There could be no question of that. But why had he not spoken -of it? What was it doing up on the cliffs? Above all, what did this -silent, stealthy flight through the darkness mean? - -“What in time is it doing up there?” Brad questioned. - -“I haven’t an idea. I suppose it belongs to Randolph and that he keeps -it up on the cliffs somewhere.” - -Silently they turned and began to retrace their steps. - -“Say, partner, mebbe that’s what he’s experimenting on,” the Texan -remarked presently. - -“Perhaps it is,” Dick returned absently. - -Could it be that Randolph had deceived him? Was it possible that the -amazing statement he had made was false, and that, instead of making -diamonds, he was experimenting on an aëroplane? - -Merriwell did not like to think that the man who had once been a friend -to Frank, and whom he himself had found so attractive and likable, -would stoop to a thing like that. It was so totally unnecessary, too. -He need not have told any story at all had he desired to keep his work -a secret. Dick had nailed one lie that night, and if there was one -thing he despised above another it was a deliberate liar. - -But there was the drawer full of diamonds. They were real enough -and bore out the man’s astounding statement. It was a most puzzling -situation. - -All at once Buckhart caught his friend’s arm. - -“Look,” he cried excitedly--“look at the lights!” - -Following the direction of the Texan’s hand, Dick strained his eyes to -the northward. There certainly were lights there. Brilliant, regular -flashes came from high up in the air many miles away. As Merriwell -studied them, it seemed to him that some one was signaling from the -clouds. If they were really signals, the man was using a secret code -and not the regular government system, with which Dick was perfectly -familiar. Suddenly they ceased. - -“Signals, weren’t they?” Buckhart inquired. - -“Looked like it; but I don’t know the code.” - -They had reached the car and Dick stooped to crank it. The next instant -he let go the handle and stood erect, his head bent back and his eyes -upward, in an attitude of strained attention. - -A faint humming sound came from the distance, gradually growing louder. - -The aëroplane was returning. - -Even as this conviction darted into his mind, the vast shape flashed by -high in the air. For a second the shadowy form was barely discernible -against the glittering stars, and then it vanished from sight among the -mountains. - -“Back again, eh?” commented the Texan. “What do you know about that? I -tell you, pard, this here gent has sure got me guessing some.” - -Starting the engine with a flip of the crank, Dick took his seat at the -wheel and Buckhart climbed in beside him. - -“You’re not the only one he has guessing,” Merriwell remarked, after he -had turned the car and started back. “He’s a most perplexing mystery, -and I rather think we couldn’t spend to-morrow more profitably than in -trying to solve that problem.” - -For several hours that night Dick tossed restlessly on the bed. His -mind was working so actively that it seemed impossible to go to sleep. -Theory after theory flashed into his brain, as he sought to account for -the curious behavior of Scott Randolph, only to be rejected because of -some serious flaw in his reasoning. Each of the important, vital facts -he had gathered concerning this mysterious man were utterly at variance -with the other. - -The astounding statement that he had discovered a method of -manufacturing diamonds seemed to be corroborated by the drawer full of -the precious gems, and also by the scrap of conversation the two Yale -men had overheard in the dining room of the Brown Palace. Besides, Dick -knew that diamonds had been produced by scientists, though not on a -scale which made the process a scientific success. But the thing was -possible. - -In the face of all this stood the lie Randolph had told and the -presence of the aëroplane. Why had the man kept such absolute silence -about the flying machine when he had been so communicative in a -far more vital matter? And more than that, why had he told Dick a -deliberate falsehood in the matter of the provisions? What had been his -object? What had he gained? - -At last the Yale man gave it up and fell into a troubled slumber. - -Bright and early next morning the _Wizard_ again left the city and spun -out along Bonnet Trail. Merriwell had cashed a check at the desk before -starting and so was supplied with funds. Yet he was anxious to obtain -his bill case more for the papers it contained than for anything else; -and besides, it would serve him as a sufficient excuse for trying to -locate Randolph. - -Again the car was driven over to the side of the trail and the coil -plug removed. Again the two friends hurried up the narrow, mountain -track which led to the mysterious house of stone. - -In the bright glare of the morning sun it did not look so gloomy and -desolate as it had the night before; but it was still quite grim and -forbidding enough, with its blank expressionless windows and absolute -lack of sound or life. - -Merriwell had hardly expected any response to his repeated poundings -on the metal door, and he was not disappointed. He might have spared -himself the effort. - -When he was finally satisfied that there was no possibility of -effecting an entrance, he turned his attention to the cliffs above the -house, from which the aëroplane had appeared. A glance told him that -they were insurmountable. For the greater part of their height they -were almost as smooth as glass, and the top ledges overhung the plateau -in such a manner as to make an attempt at climbing them out of the -question. - -“I’d certainly like to get up there,” he remarked. “But there’s nothing -doing from here.” - -“Do you think the flying machine is up there, pard?” Buckhart inquired. - -“That’s what I want to find out,” Merriwell returned, “I shouldn’t be -surprised if it were.” - -He stepped to the edge of the ravine from which Randolph had appeared -the afternoon previous, but though a faint outline of a path showed -among the rocks, it turned abruptly away from the cliffs and followed -the course of a little stream as far as the eye could reach. - -“Let’s take the car and go up the trail a bit,” Dick said, as he -turned from the ravine. “Perhaps we can find some way to climb up the -mountains in that direction.” - -They went back to the car and Dick drove slowly on along Bonnet Trail. -For perhaps a mile nothing favorable appeared, then his quick eye -discerned the almost obliterated signs of where a path had once wound -among the rocks up the steep slope. Drawing the car in to the side of -the road, they stepped out and started their climb. - -The path was rough and winding. Once or twice they lost it, but, -after a little searching, struck it again farther up. The general -direction it took was southeast, and Dick noticed with satisfaction -that it seemed to lead with more or less directness, toward the heights -surrounding the stone house. On the side of the mountains was a fair -amount of vegetation--small pine trees and some underbrush. Presently, -emerging upon a wide, fairly level spot surrounded by the higher -reaches of mountain, they stopped stock-still in astonishment. - -Quite near them was a small cabin, ruined and decayed. It had evidently -been long deserted, and what its former use had been it was impossible -to determine. - -It was not upon the cabin, however, that their eyes were fixed in -gaping amazement. It was a question whether they even saw it at first, -so engrossed were they in the intricate mass of rods and metal, -burnished copper and great, wide-spreading planes which lay on the -ground near them, stretched out like an enormous, uncouth bird at rest. - -“By George!” the Texan exclaimed. “It’s the flying machine, or I’ll eat -my hat!” - -“It certainly looks like it,” Dick returned with much satisfaction. - -Then a strange voice sounded from the cabin, and the two Yale men -whirled around instantly in surprise. - -“Guessed right the first crack, gents. It sure is a flying machine.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -BERT HOLTON, SPECIAL OFFICER. - - -Standing in the doorway was a slim, wiry, alert-looking man of -twenty-eight or thirty, dressed in a dark, serviceable suit, with -leather leggings. He leaned carelessly against the sagging doorpost, -a slight smile on his smooth-shaven face, watching them with keen, -snapping black eyes. - -“Is this your monoplane?” Dick asked quickly. - -“I don’t know anybody that has a better claim to it,” the stranger -answered promptly. - -As he glanced again at the aëroplane, Merriwell gave a sigh of relief. -This, then, was what they had seen the night before, and he had quite -misjudged Randolph. The scientist had probably never left his house. - -Dick had been so anxious to think the best of Frank’s friend that he -was rejoiced beyond measure to believe that his suppositions to the -contrary were wrong. Then he remembered the lie Randolph had told him. -That, at least, had not been disproved. - -“You gents seem mighty interested in my little bird,” the slim man -remarked as he stepped forward and joined them. “Might I inquire if -you’ve happened to see another one around here lately?” - -Dick gave a slight start. - -“Why do you ask that?” he questioned. - -The stranger hesitated. - -“I might as well tell you the truth,” he said at length, with a slight -shrug of his shoulders. “I’m about at the end of my rope, and you’re -not apt to help me any unless you know what you’re doing. My name is -Holton--Bert Holton. I’m a special officer from Washington. For about -five months we’ve been trying to run down the cleverest gang of diamond -smugglers that ever tried to beat Uncle Sam. Got on to ’em first -through one of our agents in Europe. Glen is certainly a smart chap; I -don’t know how he smells out some of these cases, but somehow he got -wind of a party that was having a big bunch of rough diamonds cut in -Amsterdam. Didn’t know where they came from, but he got suspicious at -the amount of stones the duck had and wired us when he took passage -direct to Canada. - -“We had men on hand to meet the gent, and he was shadowed wherever he -went. He didn’t make any try to cross the border, but took the Canadian -Pacific direct to a farm he had about two hundred miles the other side -of Winnipeg. It was a good seventy-five miles from the State line, and -the fellows didn’t have much difficulty shadowing him. They had their -trouble for their pains, though. The old duck didn’t stir away from his -farm for six weeks, and then what do you suppose he did?” - -Merriwell smiled at the fellow’s earnest manner. - -“Give it up,” he answered. “What was it?” - -“Took ship to the other side and went direct to Paris. This time the -boys over there were ready for him. He stayed two days at one of the -big hotels and then went to Amsterdam. While at Paris he was seen -talking with a big, rough-looking fellow who looked like a Dutchman. -After Carleton--that was the name of the Canadian guy--left Paris, this -Dutchman was followed until he got aboard a steamer bound for South -Africa. At Amsterdam, Carleton trots right off to his diamond cutter, -leaves a lot of rough stones with him, and sails for home with another -bunch of cut and polished sparklers. It was a cute game, and Heaven -only knows how long they’d been playing it. - -“Well, sir, that chap had the whole department guessing. Try as they -would, they couldn’t catch him with the goods. Of course, they couldn’t -touch him on British soil; he had a perfect right to have bushels of -diamonds there if he wanted to. But there was a bunch of inspectors -watching him and all his friends, that pretty near started a riot among -the people thereabouts. Nothing doing, though. He never went near the -line; and if he had, it wouldn’t have done him much good, with the -country a wilderness for hundreds of miles. - -“Finally I was put on the job, and after the fellow’s third trip across -the pond--he must have brought back half a million in diamonds, all -told--I got wise to their little game. It certainly was the slickest -thing you ever heard of, though I’d been kind of expecting something of -that sort ever since airships began doing stunts in the air.” - -A look of intense interest leaped into Merriwell’s face. - -“What!” he exclaimed. “You mean that they brought the diamonds across -the line with an aëroplane?” - -“That’s what,” nodded Holton. “Of course Carleton wouldn’t let us on -his property, so we couldn’t look around much. He had a lot of fierce -dogs, and the place was full of man traps and all sorts of riggings -like that. But I found out afterward that the whole side of one of his -barns was removable, so when the aëroplane came at night it landed in -the upper part of the barn and nobody was the wiser. He’d load up with -the sparklers and slide out the next dark night that came along. The -only way I got onto the game was by keeping watch all night at the edge -of the farm, and at last I saw the thing swoop down and land somewhere -among the buildings. - -“I beat it back home and had a talk with the chief, who decided that -the only way to catch them with the goods was in another aëroplane. -You see, nobody had the least idea where he went after he crossed the -border. So he bought a good model on the quiet, and I took some lessons -running it. In a couple of weeks I could handle it pretty fair, and it -was shipped to Winnipeg and assembled there. I had the dickens of a -job finding a place near Carleton’s to keep it, but finally located an -out-of-the-way barn that I rented and fixed up. When the machine was -installed there, I went back to watching again. - -“I hadn’t been at it long before he slid in one night, and don’t you -believe that I wasn’t ready for flight then. He stayed over one night, -but the next he was off just after dark, and me after him. I thought -he was never going to stop flying. We made about fifty miles an hour, -and by daybreak I figured we must be somewhere in Wyoming. He landed in -the mountains just as the dawn began to break, and I dropped down a few -miles away. - -“At dark I was ready again, up in the air circling around. He made for -this place straight as a string, swooped down a little after midnight, -and then blamed if I didn’t lose him. Seemed as if the earth had just -opened and swallowed him up, and I haven’t seen hide or hair of him -since. You see, I’m up against it for fair, and when one of you gents -says, ‘it’s _the_ airship,’ like as though you’d seen one around here -before, I thought perhaps you’d glimpsed the other fellow’s, and maybe -you could help me out.” - -As he finished, the young inspector looked inquiringly from one to the -other of the two Yale men. He retained his air of careless nonchalance, -but only by a palpable effort. Deep down underneath it there was an -expression of anxious appeal in his eyes. It was quite evident that he -was, as he had said, “up against it for fair”; otherwise he would never -have confided so promptly in two total strangers, and Dick had a very -strong inclination to help him out. But could he? - -Not being in the least slow, Merriwell had at once sensed the entire -situation. The mystery of Scott Randolph was a mystery no longer. Bert -Holton’s straightforward story had cleared it up completely. He was a -smuggler, pure and simple. Amazingly clever, to be sure, and conducting -his operations on a huge scale, he was none the less a smuggler, and -his extremely plausible story of manufacturing diamonds had been made -up out of whole cloth to cover his real doings. - -A faint flush mounted into Dick’s face as he realized how he had been -duped, and for a moment he would have given a good deal to be able to -put this clever officer on Randolph’s trail. But could he? There was -that unfortunate word of honor which he had given and which he could -not break. Moreover, such was Scott Randolph’s extraordinary charm of -manner and likableness that, in spite of everything, Merriwell did not -quite like the notion of turning him over to the law. - -It was Buckhart who solved the problem. Bound by no promise of silence, -knowing nothing of the diamond hoax, his mind was so full of what they -had seen the night before that the consequence of his words did not -occur to him before he blurted them out. - -“Why, sure, bucko,” he said quickly. “We saw an airship fly out of -these very mountains last night.” - -A gleam of excitement leaped into Holton’s keen eyes. - -“You did?” he cried. “What time? Which way did it go?” - -“About eleven o’clock,” the Texan answered promptly, “It flew -northward.” - -Holton made a despairing gesture with his hands. - -“He’s gone back to Carleton’s,” he exclaimed. “By George! He’s given me -the slip! If I’m not the worst kind of a lunkhead!” - -“I reckon not,” Brad put in quickly. “He came back again in about -thirty minutes.” - -“Are you sure?” Holton asked doubtfully. - -“Yep; we saw it plain. He must have gone twelve or fifteen miles, and -then we saw him flash some lights like signals. Pretty quick after they -stopped the machine came back again to the place where it started from.” - -“And where was that?” the officer asked eagerly. “Say, Jack, haven’t -you any idea at all who it belongs to?” - -“We thought it was Randolph,” Buckhart returned promptly. “He’s the -fellow that lives in that stone house with barred windows and a steel -door.” - -“Never heard of him,” Holton said quickly. “I’m a stranger here, you -know. It sounds good, though. How do you get to it?” - -“Go down to Bonnet Trail and walk toward Denver,” the Texan answered. -“In about half a mile you come to a narrow road on your right. -Randolph’s place is at the end of that road, not more than a quarter of -a mile----” - -He stopped abruptly as his eyes fell on Dick’s face. It was calm and -impassive, but there must have been something there which made the big -Westerner think that perhaps he had been saying too much. He hesitated -for a moment and then went on rather lamely: - -“Of course, I’m not at all certain that it was his aëroplane. It came -from near the house, but it might have belonged to some one else.” - -“All the same, I think I’ll look the gent up,” Holton remarked. “It’s -the only clue I’ve had, and it sounds pretty good to me.” - -There was silence for a few moments, then Merriwell glanced suddenly at -the special officer. - -“Are these monoplanes hard to manage?” he asked. - -“Why, no, not very,” Holton answered. “The control is very simple, once -you’ve got the hang of it. I’d rather manipulate a monoplane than a -biplane any day. Ever been up in one?” - -“No, but I’ve always wanted to,” Dick answered. “I’ve done something -with gliders at college. The principle is pretty much the same, isn’t -it?” - -“Exactly. Some people seem to have the idea that you get along by -flapping the planes like the wings of a bird, whereas they are almost -immovable. Of course, they can be deflected or depressed according as -you rise or descend, but the only thing that keeps you going is the -revolution of the propeller. If the engine should stop, you’d be turned -into a simple glider. Even then, you wouldn’t go down with a smash, but -by a proper manipulation of the plane and rudders, you could glide on a -long, easy curve, and could almost choose your own spot for alighting.” - -“I see,” Dick said. “The two rudders are controlled by levers, I -suppose.” - -“Sure.” - -Holton stepped to the rear of the aëroplane and Merriwell followed him -interestedly. - -“Here’s the horizontal rudder,” the officer explained, pointing out -the two smaller, parallel planes which were attached to the extreme -end of the light frame that protruded from the body of the aëroplane -like an enormously long tail. “By a system of wires and pulleys, it is -connected with the lever next to the seat. You pull that lever forward -and the rudder is thrown upward, inclining the big plane so that the -air strikes it underneath and drives it upward. In the same way when -the lever is thrown back, the plane is deflected the other way and the -machine descends. In flying it’s always necessary to give the plane the -least possible upward inclination, so as to get the full benefit of the -air striking against it.” - -Merriwell nodded understandingly. - -“This rudder above it is the vertical rudder, I suppose,” he said. “It -looks exactly like the rudder on a boat.” - -“It is like it, and acts the same way. You use that in making a turn, -and it is controlled by the lever next to the other one. Pushed -forward, it turns the rudder to the right, backward, to the left. When -you’re flying straight ahead it’s kept upright, of course.” - -He pulled a worn, red leather notebook from his pocket and slipped off -the rubber band. - -“It’s this way,” he went on, as he drew a simple diagram on one of the -pages. - -Dick bent his head over the book, while Holton explained in detail -the principle of rudder control, illustrating his meaning with rough -sketches. When he had finished, the Yale man straightened up and looked -again at the machine. - -“It’s quite as simple as I thought,” he said slowly. “I believe I could -operate it with a little practice. Eight-cylinder engine, isn’t it?” - -“Yes, and it’s a little beauty,” the officer said enthusiastically. -“I’ve never had a bit of trouble worth speaking about. It’s a French -make and only weighs a fraction under three pounds per horse power. It -drives the crank shaft, which runs under the seat out to the propeller -in front.” - -Dick examined the engine closely. It was beautifully made and took up a -surprisingly small space. - -Seeing his interest and his quickness of comprehension, Holton, who was -an enthusiast, pointed out the various parts, and at the end of half an -hour the Yale man understood it thoroughly. - -“I suppose you’d have to have some kind of a start to make an ascension -from here, wouldn’t you?” he asked. - -“All you’d need would be some one to loosen the anchor rope which I’ve -tied to that tree over there, and give you a good, running shove,” -Holton said. “Of course, you’d get your engine going first and the -plane and horizontal rudder inclined properly. You see, with these -light pneumatic wheels underneath, it’s no trouble at all for one man -to give you the necessary starting velocity. Sometimes you don’t even -need that, but can start yourself, especially if you’re on a slight -incline. That’s the sort of place I usually try to pick out when I come -down.” - -He hesitated for an instant. He was plainly an enthusiastic aviator. - -“I’d like to make a short ascension and show you how it works,” he -said, “but I don’t dare to. That fellow doesn’t know I’m anywhere -around, but if I went up now, he’d spot me in a minute and be on his -guard.” - -“Of course he would,” Dick agreed readily. “Perhaps, though, after -you’ve nailed him, you’d be willing to give us an exhibition.” - -“Sure thing,” Holton grinned. “Come out and see me to-morrow. Maybe -there’ll be something doing by that time.” - -“I will,” Merriwell returned promptly. - -Then he turned to Buckhart. - -“I guess we might as well be on our way, old fellow,” he said quietly. -“Now that we’ve mastered the principles of flying, there’s nothing to -keep us here. Good-by, Mr. Holton.” - -“By-by, fellows,” the officer said warmly as they started down the -slope. “Much obliged for the tip.” - -“Don’t mention it,” Brad called back. - -They had almost reached Bonnet Trail where they had left the car, when -he stopped suddenly and looked at his companion. - -“Say, what about Randolph’s aëroplane that we started to find?” he -inquired. “I never knew you to give up anything as quick as that, pard.” - -Dick smiled. - -“I gave it up because I didn’t want to find it,” he returned. -“Randolph’s a piker, all right, and deserves to have this fellow Holton -land on his neck; but I’d rather not have anything to do with his -capture.” - -The Texan grinned broadly. - -“That’s why you looked so blamed serious while I was chattering away -like a dame at a pink tea,” he remarked. “I sure put my foot into it, -didn’t I?” - -“Not a bit of it,” Merriwell returned. “I was afraid you were going -further and put him wise to all this talk about diamonds and that sort -of thing. There seems to be no question that he’s the smuggler Holton -is after, but somehow I’d like him to have every chance he can. We were -his guests last night, and he was mighty nice to us; besides, he used -to be a friend of Frank’s, and---- Oh, well, let’s just put him out of -mind. If he gets pinched, all right; if he gets away it will be equally -satisfactory.” - -This proved to be easier said than done. After a leisurely luncheon the -two friends took the car again and went for a long drive out toward -Castlerock, from which they did not return until past six. It is safe -to say that half an hour did not pass during the entire afternoon in -which one or the other of them was not thinking of Scott Randolph and -wondering whether Holton had found him, or whether he had escaped, or -what had happened. - -Returning to the hotel, Dick drove around to the garage very slowly; -and, instead of running the car in, he slid up to the curb and stopped. -Then he turned in his seat and eyed Buckhart questioningly without -saying a word. - -“Well, why not?” the Texan inquired suddenly, apparently apropos of -nothing on earth. “I’m sure curious to know how it all came out.” - -Dick laughed as he guided the car slowly down the street again. - -“Evidently we haven’t either of us been successful in getting Randolph -out of our heads,” he said. “We’ll just take a run out and see if I can -get hold of my pocketbook this time.” - -The swift twilight was just beginning to fall as they hurried up the -narrow track and reached the open space before the stone house. - -If they expected to find any signs of life about the place they were -disappointed. The same grim, menacing wall of stone confronted them, -from the same desolate, shadowy background. The steel door was as -tightly closed as ever, the barred windows as expressionless. But wait! -Were they quite the same? - -Dick’s eyes were fixed on the end window on the second floor. - -“Take a good look at that shutter up there, Brad,” he said in a low -tone. “It looks to me as though it were open about an inch, but this -dim light is beastly deceptive.” - -The Texan studied it for an instant. - -“You’re right,” he said quickly. “It is open the least bit. Some one’s -been there since this morning, all right.” - -Merriwell stepped to the door and hammered loudly on it. - -Five minutes passed in unbroken silence. Then he beat another -thunderous tattoo on it, long and loud. - -Still no response. The house was silent as a tomb. - -The Yale man stepped under the window and looked keenly up at it. Was -it possible that some one was watching them through that tiny crack? If -so, the rapidly falling darkness hid him effectually. With a sigh of -regret, Merriwell stepped back, his foot striking a small object on the -ground. - -Instantly he pounced on it and held it up. - -It was a small, worn notebook, bound in red leather and kept together -by a rubber band. - -For a moment both men gazed in tense silence at the commonplace thing. -Then Dick slipped off the band quickly and opened the book. - -As his eyes glanced swiftly over the first page, even the semidarkness -did not hide the sudden pallor which spread over his face. - -“Heavens above!” he breathed in a horror-stricken voice. - -“What is it, pard?” Brad asked anxiously. “What has happened?” - -Unconsciously Merriwell clenched one hand tightly and his teeth came -together with a click. - -“Randolph has shut Holton into the air-tight room,” he said slowly. - -“What!” gasped the Texan, as though unable to believe his ears. -“Deliberately left him there, you mean?” - -“Yes,” Dick said in a hard, dry voice. “Listen.” - -He bent over the notebook, barely able to distinguish the scrawling -words, in the failing light. - -“‘He caught me by a trick,’” the Yale man read slowly. “‘Says he’s -going to shut me in a room where the air will last two hours and no -longer. If anybody finds this, for God’s sake get me out. I’ve only -a minute to write this and throw it out of the window. Don’t waste a -minute, but hurry. I can’t die like a rat in a trap. HOL----’” - -The note ended in an irregular line as though the writer had been -suddenly interrupted. - -The Texan’s ruddy face was pale as death and in his eyes there came a -look of horror. - -“Two hours,” he exclaimed in a strange voice--“two hours to live!” - -Dick threw out one hand in a gesture of despair. - -“And those two hours may be up!” he cried. “No one knows how long ago -this note was written!” - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE RACE IN THE CLOUDS. - - -The words were scarcely spoken when, from the cliffs above them, came -the familiar muffled purr of the gasoline engine. - -Instantly a look of hope flashed into Dick’s face as he quickly -turned his head upward. Scott Randolph had not yet departed. He might -be stopped--must be stopped--and induced to return and release his -prisoner. He could not possibly realize what an awful thing he was -doing. - -The humming increased; there was that same rustling, creaking sound -which had attracted their first sight of the aëroplane, and then the -great black shape appeared slowly and majestically from among the -mountains. - -Dick placed his hands trumpetwise to his mouth. - -“Randolph!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “Come back! You must -come back! It is I--Merriwell. You must not leave that man there! -Randolph! Randolph!” - -His voice rang out clearly on the still night air, and the echoes came -back mockingly from the gloomy, towering cliffs. But Scott Randolph -paid no heed. The course of the black aëroplane did not waver by -so much as a hair’s breadth as it sped on with rapidity increasing -momentum, presently vanishing to the northward. - -Dick dropped his hands despairingly at his sides. - -“What a monster,” he exclaimed. “What an inhuman monster! I wouldn’t -have believed it possible.” - -“Isn’t there something we can do?” Buckhart asked. “We just can’t stand -here and let that fellow suffocate. Don’t you suppose there’s some way -of finding the spring? Or we might tear down the wall.” - -Though he spoke eagerly, there was not much conviction in his voice. - -“By the time we’d found a way into the house the man would be dead,” -Dick answered. “We couldn’t tear down the wall in time. No Randolph is -the only one who can save him. He must be brought back; but how--how to -do it?” - -He was thinking rapidly. There must be way--some way. But there was so -little time. - -Suddenly he gave a quick exclamation. - -“I’ve got it! By Jove, I’ve got it! Come along--quick! There isn’t a -second to lose.” - -He turned and flew toward the trail as fast as he could get over the -ground, with Buckhart close at his heels. Into the car he sprang and -started the engine. - -“Never mind the lights!” he cried, as Brad hesitated. “Jump in--quick!” - -The Texan leaped up beside him, and a moment later the _Wizard_ was -hitting the high places on Bonnet Trail, heading away from Denver. - -To the bewildered Westerner it seemed as though they had scarcely -started before Dick jammed on the emergency and leaped from the car. He -darted up the steep, rocky slope, Brad still keeping close behind him. -At last a glimmering of what his friend meant to do flashed into the -Texan’s mind and turned his blood cold. - -“Say, pard,” he gasped. “You’re--not going--to monkey with--that -airship?” - -“I’ve got to!” came through Merriwell’s gritted teeth. “It’s the only -way.” - -There was silence for a brief space as they climbed rapidly. - -“But you’ll be killed,” Buckhart panted in an unsteady voice. “You’ve -never run one in your life.” - -Dick laughed. - -“Don’t worry, old fellow,” he said. “It isn’t as bad as that. I may not -catch Randolph, but I learned enough about the thing this morning to -keep myself from being killed--I hope.” - -A moment later they burst through the bushes and Dick gave a sigh of -relief as the shadowy bulk of the aëroplane loomed before him. - -“I wasn’t quite sure whether Holton had used it or not,” he said, -hurrying toward it. “Now, Brad, let’s get busy. Just hold a match to -that burner while I turn on the prestolite.” - -The next instant the bright light blazed forth, and Dick proceeded -methodically to prepare for flight. He passed his hands swiftly over -the steering levers to make sure which was which. Then he turned -on the gas and plugged into the coil. Setting spark and throttle -experimentally, he started the engine. She pounded a little at first, -but he quickly pulled down the throttle a trifle and soon had her -running smoothly. - -That done, he pushed the lever governing the horizontal rudder forward. -The vertical lever he left upright. - -Swiftly he thought over Holton’s instructions. There was nothing more -to be done, and, with a last look at the engine, which was running -perfectly, he climbed into the seat. - -For a second he sat there motionless. It must be confessed that his -pulse beat rapidly, and he felt an odd, unpleasant tightening at his -throat as he realized what he was about to attempt. - -Then the thought of Holton, slowly smothering in that air-tight room, -made him press his lips tightly together as his left hand reached out -and closed over the steering lever. The propeller in front of him was -revolving swiftly with a whirring sound, and it seemed as though he -could feel the aëroplane tugging gently at the anchoring rope, as if it -were anxious to be off. - -“Loosen the rope, Brad, and give me a good, running shove!” Merriwell -said quietly. - -The Texan stifled with an effort an almost irresistible impulse to drag -his chum off the seat and prevent him forcibly from going to what he -considered almost certain death. Then he made a last appeal. - -“Dick, you ought not to do this,” he said, in a low voice. “It’s -madness!” - -“I must, old fellow,” Merriwell returned quietly. - -Somehow the confidence in Merriwell’s voice seemed to put heart into -the big Texan. - -Turning, he walked to the rear of the machine and slipped the hook -of the anchor rope out of the ring. Then he took a good hold of the -framework and ran forward, pushing the aëroplane before him. - -As it rose with a long, sweeping glide, Dick caught his breath suddenly. - -For an instant he seemed as though he were standing still and that the -earth was dropping swiftly away from him--dropping, and at the same -time rushing backward. He wanted to look back at Buckhart, but he did -not dare. It was as though the machine was poised in so fine a balance -that the least motion on his part would upset the equilibrium. - -The big Texan was left standing in the centre of the clearing, his -hands clenched so tightly that the nails cut into the flesh, his face -white and drawn, with great beads of perspiration standing out on his -forehead, his whole frame trembling like a leaf. As he watched with -a strained and breathless eagerness, the aëroplane soared upward and -away, carrying the best friend he had in the world swiftly out of sight -in that perilous race through the darkness for a human life. - -It took but a moment for Dick to recover his coolness and presence of -mind. Then he realized that he was headed in quite the wrong direction. - -Instinctively he felt that it might not be safe to attempt a turn -with the monoplane still gliding upward, so very slowly he drew the -horizontal lever toward him until he was going nearly on a level. Then -he clasped the vertical lever and pushed it forward, little by little. - -Luckily there was scarcely any wind, and the aëroplane responded -instantly by turning in a wide, majestic circle. As soon as the -propeller was headed northward, he pulled the lever back into the -upright position, with a sigh of satisfaction. So far, there had been -not the slightest hitch. - -Presently he noticed that the monoplane was steadily increasing -in speed, but somehow, this did not trouble him in the least. He -was rapidly gaining confidence in himself and in the strange air -craft, which was momentarily proving herself so much more steady and -controllable than he had ever imagined she could be. - -Then, too, there was an extraordinary sense of exhilaration in that -rapid flight through the night air. A delicious feeling of lightness, -of buoyancy unlike anything he had ever known. And stranger than all -else was the amazing lack of fear. It did not seem as though he could -possibly fall, or if he did, he felt that he would float to earth with -the lightness of a thistledown. - -He leaned forward and deflected the powerful searchlight, but he -could see nothing. He must have gone considerably higher than he had -realized, and promptly he pushed back the horizontal lever. - -The result was startling. The monoplane gave a swift downward plunge -which nearly threw him from his seat, so unexpected was it. With a -jerk, he thrust the lever forward, and the craft slowly regained its -equilibrium and began an upward glide. - -A little experimenting showed him the danger of dropping too suddenly, -and he soon discovered how to reach a lower level by a series of short -gradual glides, instead of too abrupt a descent. - -After a little he tried the wonderfully powerful searchlight again -and was relieved when he found that the earth was clearly visible. He -must have been at an elevation of little more than a thousand feet, -and as he swept along at the speed of an express train, the plains and -isolated farms flitted by under him with the silent, uncanny unreality -of a dream. - -Then he flashed the light ahead, but could see nothing of Randolph’s -aëroplane. He increased the speed a little, and presently he foolishly -raised his head above the wind shield. It cut his skin like alcohol -from an atomizer on a raw surface and made him draw quickly back into -shelter again. - -“Not for mine!” he muttered. “A little more of that would flay a fellow -alive.” - -He shot the searchlight before him and this time the powerful rays fell -on something in the air far ahead of him--a black, indefinite shape, -barely within the range of the reflector. His heart leaped joyfully. - -“Randolph!” he muttered. “I’m gaining!” - -Almost before he could realize it the black air craft leaped into vivid -relief, he could distinguish clearly every rod, almost every tiny wire, -even the white face of Randolph shown clear in the bright light. Then -the black monoplane flashed by him with throbbing engine and was gone. - -“Great Cæsar!” he gasped in amazement. “He’s going back! What does that -mean?” - -His first natural impulse was to turn swiftly as he might have done in -a motor car, but he caught himself in time and remembered the need of -extreme caution. - -First pulling down the speed of the engine, he moved the vertical lever -slowly, and executed a wide, graceful curve. Once headed southward, he -increased the speed and started on the return journey at a rate that -made the air hum. - -What could be the cause of this sudden change on the part of Scott -Randolph? Was it possible that he had relented and was voluntarily -going back to release Holton? Had he come to a full realization of -the awful thing he had done? Merriwell sincerely hoped so, but he did -not relax his vigilance in the least. He meant to follow the other -aëroplane to the bitter end, and his searchlight still shot its bright -rays straight ahead as he strained his eyes to catch another glimpse of -the shadowy craft. - -Before long he saw the lights of Denver far in the distance, but on his -right. At once he throttled down on the engine and swerved to the west -a little. In returning, he had gone too far east. When he was finally -headed in the right direction, he throttled the engine still further -and turned the flashlight earthward. - -In an instant he had his bearings and shut off all power. The propeller -slowly ceased its revolutions, and the aëroplane, with horizontal -rudder depressed a trifle, glided downward. - -Randolph’s aëroplane was nowhere in sight, but the bright gleam of -light from the door of the house, showed Merriwell that something -out of the way had happened, and he resolved to waste no time, but -drop down there. He landed in fair shape, but he had not calculated on -the retained velocity of the monoplane, and the craft rushed forward -on its light wheels, striking against the front of the house with a -splintering crash which threw Dick headforemost out of his seat to the -ground. - -He was up in an instant. Running into the hall, he dashed up the -stairs. The first person that met his eager gaze was Bert Holton, lying -on a couch in the upper hall, gasping painfully for breath. Then, -standing by the open door of the air-tight room, he saw Scott Randolph, -his face pale, but seeming otherwise cool and collected. - -“I’m very glad you’ve come, Merriwell,” he said quietly. “You will be -able to look after Mr. Holton. He is somewhat in want of air just now, -but will soon recover.” - -He hesitated for an instant, still looking straight into Merriwell’s -eyes. - -“I think I have you to thank for saving me from myself,” he said -slowly. “But for you I should have done something which would have made -the remainder of my life a living hell.” - -There was a puzzled look on Dick’s face. - -“I don’t think I quite understand,” he said. “You came back of your own -accord. What had I to do with it?” - -“I did not turn until I saw your searchlight,” Randolph explained. “It -was that which brought me to my senses. The moment I saw it flash far -behind me, I knew that another aëroplane was following me. I knew there -was no other around here but Holton’s, and he was--er--locked up. It -puzzled me for a moment, and then the realization suddenly came to me -that it must be you. I don’t know just what made me think so, but the -conviction was a very positive one. - -“You had found out about Holton in some way, and had taken the only -possible means of following me to bring me back. And at the thought -of the tremendous risk you were running to save the life of a total -stranger, I seemed to realize for the first time what a horrible thing -I had done. I turned at once and started back. I was just in time, -thank God! Holton was almost gone.” - -He paused and then went on in a lighter tone: - -“I leave him to your care. I cannot stay. I can only say that I am glad -to have met you, Dick Merriwell. You’re a thoroughbred, if there ever -was one, and I shall not soon forget you. After what I have done, you -probably won’t shake hands, so I’ll just say good-by.” - -Without another word, he wheeled and started down the hall. - -Holton struggled to his feet. - -“Catch him!” he gasped thickly. “Don’t let him get away! He must not -get away!” - -Dick ran down the hall with the officer stumbling after him. - -“Stop, Randolph!” the Yale man cried. - -The loud slam of a door was his only answer. It was the door at the end -of the hall which Randolph had told them the night before led into a -closet. - -Dashing forward, Dick tore it open and tripped against the first step -of some stairs leading upward. Without a moment’s hesitation, he -hurried up them. It was slow work, for the way was pitch dark and he -had to trust to his sense of feeling alone. His outstretched hands -touched the rough, uneven surface of rock on either side. He seemed to -be in a natural tunnel which wound along with many twists and turns, -but always steeply upward. It had been fitted with rough wooden stairs, -but that was all. - -On he went, and on and on. He felt as though he must be almost among -the clouds before the cool night wind began to blow upon his face. At -last he emerged on a flat, rock-floored surface, walled and roofed with -timbers, but open in the front. - -The hum of a gasoline engine was in his ears, the whirring purr of an -aëroplane propeller; and, as he ran forward to the open front of the -shed, he saw the shadowy bulk of the black craft spread out before him -on the flat, rocky surface. - -Even as it flashed into view, it began to move swiftly down a steep -incline. - -“Randolph!” the Yale man cried. “Stop!” - -But Scott Randolph paid no heed. As Dick sprang out on the rocky -platform, the great black aëroplane launched itself from the cliff, -and, gathering speed with every moment, it soared upward and northward, -vanishing into the night. Presently the muffled throb of the engine -died away and all was still. - -“He’s gone!” almost sobbed a voice at Merriwell’s elbow. “I’ll never -get my hookers on him again.” - -It was Bert Holton, weak and exhausted by his hard climb, but rapidly -recovering in the cool night air. - -“I’m afraid not,” Dick answered slowly. “I don’t think he’ll ever come -back here.” - -But somehow, deep down in his heart, he was not so sorry. - -Presently he turned and looked about him. They were standing on the top -of the cliff with only the glittering stars above them. It was a wide, -rocky, flat surface--an ideal spot from which to launch an aëroplane, -sloping sharply as it did, toward the outer edge. - -Over a small part of this surface a rough shed had been built. The roof -was completely covered with boulders, and when the great, gray painted -doors, which closed the front, were shut, it would have taken a keen -eye to detect the presence of that ingenious shelter for the aëroplane. - -“How did he catch you?” Dick asked, turning to Holton. - -“I was too blamed cocksure,” the officer answered bitterly. “He was -wise to me all the time. When I come snooping around the house I finds -the door open, and like a fool, in I walks. Next thing I knew he had a -gun at my head.” - -“But how did he know you were around?” Merriwell interrupted. - -“One of his pals piped him off the other night,” Holton explained. -“That was the signaling you saw. The guy had seen me following, and put -Randolph wise. That’s why he came back so soon. Well, he politely tells -me what he’s going to do, and then locks me into a room while he gets -his air-tight place ready. I unfastened the shutter, but there was no -way to get out through the bars. So I hauls out my notebook and scrawls -a note. You got it, didn’t you?” - -Dick nodded. - -“I hadn’t more than tossed it out the window, when he comes back and -makes me go into that room. I knew from the look in his eyes that he’d -shoot me then and there for two cents. He was just itching to do it. -Otherwise, I’d have made a fight for it. But I had a little hope that -maybe you or some one would find the book and get me out.” - -He paused and wiped his face with a handkerchief. - -“I can’t describe the rest,” he went on slowly. “It was awful. I -never hope to go through a thing like that again. Say, Jack, was that -straight what he said about your taking the monoplane and going after -him?” - -Dick smiled rather ruefully. - -“It was,” he acknowledged. “And I’m very much afraid I smashed -something when I landed outside.” - -“Oh, that be hanged!” Holton exclaimed. “I don’t care a rip if it’s -smashed to bits. But, by George! That was a gritty thing to do! You’ve -sure got pluck. Did you have any trouble?” - -“Not a bit after I got the hang of it,” Dick answered. “But I certainly -had a sinking feeling when I first went up. Let’s go down and see how -much damage has been done.” - -They felt their way to the stairs and slowly descended. About halfway -down they were surprised to hear some one stumbling toward them. The -next moment a big body bumped into Dick and a pair of arms closed -around him with a strength that nearly took his breath away. - -“Thunderation, pard!” came in the Texan’s voice. “I’m sure a whole -lot glad to get my paws on you. I could rise up on my hind legs and -howl like a wolf. You had me near off my trolley till I saw your light -coming back. I beat it over here quick. Did you catch him?” - -“I did not,” Dick returned, his hand resting on his chum’s shoulder. -“He came back of his own free will and let Holton loose. More than -that, he was slick enough to get away again in the aëroplane before we -could stop him.” - -They had reached the lighted hall by this time, and started down the -main stairs. - -“What do you know about that!” Buckhart exclaimed. “He’s sure a -slippery one.” - -He looked at Dick with a grin. - -“Say, pard,” he drawled, “tell us, honest, how you like flying?” - - * * * * * - -Four days later Dick Merriwell read the following item in a Denver -newspaper with absorbing interest. - -“Miles City, Montana:--Word was brought to this city last night of the -discovery, by a party of prospectors in the mountains of Cook County, -of a wrecked aëroplane. The affair has been the cause of a good deal of -curiosity and speculation, since the presence of an air craft in this -vicinity was totally unsuspected. The machine was completely wrecked, -having apparently struck the rocks from a great height, so that -scarcely a part remained entire. A curious feature which will, perhaps, -lead to its identification, was the fact that every portion of the -machine, planes, metalwork, framework, and even the engine, had been -painted black. There were no signs of the unfortunate occupant, but it -is hardly to be hoped that he escaped the fall alive, the supposition -being that his body was eaten by wolves.” - -Dick gazed silently out of the window of the Denver Club, where he was -taking lunch. - -“I wonder!” he murmured presently. “Eaten by wolves, eh? I don’t -believe Scott Randolph was the man to be eaten by wolves.” - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE OUTLAWS. - - -Bob Harrison, manager of the famous “Outlaws,” was angry. His swarthy -face expressing intense exasperation, he glared at the tall, quiet -young man before him and flourished a huge fist in the air. - -“Now, look here, Loring,” he rasped, “what do you take me for? Do you -think I’m an easy mark? I’m carrying around the greatest independent -baseball team ever organized, every man a star with a reputation, and -it costs me money. The expense is terrific. The terms on which I agreed -to play your old Colorado Springs bunch were perfectly understood -between us when we made arrangements over the phone--two-thirds of -the gate money to the winner; one-third minus local expenses, such as -advertising, the sum paid for the use of the park and so forth, to the -losers. You know this was distinctly understood; now you’re trying to -squeal. You’ve got us here in Colorado Springs ready to play to-morrow, -and you think you can force me into divvying up with you.” - -“I deny,” retorted the manager of the Colorado Springs team, “that -I entered into such an arrangement as you claim I did. If you can -prove----” - -“Blazes! You know I can’t prove it. I took you for a man of your word. -I had an open date for to-morrow; so did you. I phoned you, and after -we had fixed it up you said to come on. Now we’re here, and you want to -make it dead certain that you’re going to get one-half the pie. You’ve -got something of a team, haven’t you? You think your bunch can play -baseball, don’t you? Well, if you can beat us, I’m willing you should -lug off two-thirds of the gate money. Such an arrangement as that makes -an object to work for. With an equal division, either of us will be as -well off financially whether he wins or loses.” - -“You called me on the phone, Harrison. You were mighty anxious for -the game; I wasn’t particular. The open date to-morrow meant an -opportunity for my boys to rest up, and they know it. Hot weather and -a long, grilling pull at the game threatens to make ’em go stale. My -pitching staff is on the blink. There’s only one slabman left in good -condition--and he might be better.” - -Harrison looked the local manager up and down, as if taking his measure. - -“You’re just about built to run a third-rate bush league team,” he -sneered. “This is the first time I’ve got bitten by anything as small -as you.” - -Loring flushed to the roots of his hair. - -“You’re an insolent, coarse-grained bully, Harrison,” he said hotly; -“but you’ll find you can’t browbeat me. The Springs will rest -to-morrow, and you’ll do the same as far as I am concerned. It’s off.” - -“Quitter!” snarled Harrison, choking with excess of anger. - -With a shrug of his shoulders Loring turned and left the furious man -there in the lobby of the hotel, spluttering and snarling his wrath. - -The Outlaws, managed by Harrison, was indeed a famous baseball -organization, being composed entirely of men who had worn Big League -uniforms. Harrison had been the manager of the Menockets in a certain -Middle Western League, which had blown up in the midst of a season, -the cause of the disaster being reckless extravagance and astonishing -lack of business methods on the part of various managers in the league. -The rivalry had been intense, and the salaries paid not a few of the -players who had deserted the Big League teams, something to gasp at. - -Stories of these “plums” waiting to be plucked had caused a host of -fast players on the leading teams of the country to disregard contracts -and hike for the land of promise. In most instances, it is true, these -men had been disgruntled and fancied they were justified in their acts. -Some claimed to have escaped from a slavery almost as bad as that which -once nearly disrupted the Union. In almost every instance, doubtless, -the lure which drew them like a magnet was the prospect of big money -quickly and easily obtained. The get-rich-quick microbe lurks in the -blood of almost every human being. - -But the bubble had burst. The Outlaw League had gone to smash. Nearly a -hundred clever baseball players had found themselves out of a job, with -frosty weather and the end of the season far away. - -Then it was that Harrison had conceived the idea of making up a nine -picked from the cream of the different teams; and to encourage him he -had been able to arrange in advance a game with St. Louis, in case he -could bring such an organization of stars. Of the Menocket players he -had retained Smiling Joe Brinkley, Nutty McLoon, and South-paw Pope, -the latter being a wizard who had made an amazing record in giving his -opponents only one hit in the two games which he had pitched for the -New York “Yankees.” - -Then, with his head swelled, Pope had quarreled with nearly every man -on the team, finishing up in a fist fight with two of them, which -resulted in his suspension. Raw to the bone, he grabbed at the bait -which Bob Harrison flung in his direction at that psychological moment. - -Smiling Joe had worn a Boston uniform, and had declined to go back to -the bush for another season when a veteran second sacker had crowded -him out. - -McLoon, a great hitter and wonderful centre fielder, was said to be a -bit off in the top story, and for three seasons the brand of the Outlaw -had been upon him, while he wandered from one unrecognized league to -another. He was remembered, however, for his remarkable hitting and -base running one season with St. Louis. - -The other men, gathered up from the various disbanded teams, were Long -Tom Hix, once with Cleveland; Gentle Willie Touch, who had worn a -Louisville uniform; Grouch Kennedy, a former New York “Giant”; Buzzsaw -Stover, from smoky Pittsburg; and Dead-eye Jack Rooney, who pretended -to be not over-proud of the fact that he was an ex-“Trolley Dodger.” - -Among the reserves were Biff Googins, pinch hitter from Boston and -general all-round man; Strawberry Lane, a pitcher who had lost his -trial game for the Quaker City Americans and found it impossible to -endure the gruelling of his teammates; and Wopsy Bill Brown, who had -spent a season on the bench with the Chicago Nationals without being -given a chance to pitch a ball over the plate. - -With this aggregation Harrison had proceeded to make monkeys of St. -Paul’s representative nine. Indeed, the “Outlaws” simply toyed with -their opponents in that game, winning at will. - -Then it was that Harrison conceived the idea of touring with his team -of wonders. Being a clever advertiser and press agent, he managed to -get a great deal of space in the newspapers, and it was not long before -immense crowds of baseball enthusiasts turned out wherever the Outlaws -appeared. - -To his deep satisfaction, Harrison found himself pocketing more money -than he had dreamed of looking upon while representing Menocket. He -was able to make a good thing, financially, while paying his players -salaries which satisfied them. - -In the matter of winning games the Outlaws seemed almost invincible. -It is true that they dropped a game occasionally, but even then it was -suspected that this came about through design rather than necessity. -Through the Middle West, the Southwest, and along the Pacific Coast -they toured triumphantly, boosted not only by Harrison’s clever -advertising, but by sporting writers everywhere. - -Several times, through the efforts of minor league managers to gobble -up certain men desired from the Outlaws, Harrison found it necessary -to fight in order to hold his team together. He sought to impress upon -the men the belief that by sticking to him they would eventually do far -better than by accepting the bait of the minor league magnets. He was -continually hinting of a “plum” that was coming to them. - -Furthermore, he satisfied them that, one and all, they were Big League -timber, and that he possessed the ability to put them back into the -company where they belonged. - -While Harrison stood there, snarling and glaring at the back of the -departing manager, he was approached by Dick Merriwell, who was -stopping at the hotel, in Colorado Springs, which was the first stop, -after Denver. - -“I beg your pardon,” said Dick. - -“Yah!” rasped the manager of the Outlaws, turning fiercely. - -The other smiled upon him with serene good nature. - -“I chanced to overhear a little of your conversation with Charlie -Loring,” said he. “It was quite without intent upon my part, I assure -you; you were both speaking somewhat loudly. As your subject was -baseball, I couldn’t help feeling some interest, for I’m a baseball -enthusiast.” - -“Yah!” repeated Harrison. “Perhaps you’re one of Loring’s cubs?” - -“No, indeed.” - -“Belong here?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Sorry. I wanted to tell you what I thought of that yellow quitter, -for is he a quitter. I’ve been to the trouble and expense of bringing -my team here to play a game of baseball to-morrow. Now it’s off--off -because that man won’t stand by his verbal agreement. It will cost me a -tidy little sum.” - -This thought added fuel to his rage, and he swore again, causing the -hotel clerk to glower upon him from the desk. Fortunately, there were -few guests in the lobby of the hotel. - -The young man seemed more amused than disturbed by this burst of -violent language. - -“The best-laid plans of mice and men go wrong,” he observed. - -“I hope you don’t call Loring a mouse,” rasped Harrison. “He isn’t big -enough to be a mouse; he’s a worm. If we could play every day it would -be different; but I’m under heavy expense, and these long jumps add -to the drain. I counted on doing fairly well here at the Springs, for -the place is full of tourists who must be sick of seeing scenery and -itching for diversion of a different sort. Think of that man going back -on his word and trying to get an even split on the gate money! I told -him over the phone that I would only play on the agreement that the -winning team took two-thirds. That was pretty fair, too, considering -that in lots of cases the contract has been for the winners to take -three-fourths and the losers the remainder.” - -“Evidently you felt certain of winning.” - -Harrison’s lips curled. - -“There’s nothing west of the Mississippi we can’t beat three times out -of four,” he declared, “and I’d take my chances on an even break with -anything the other side of the river.” - -“You must have a great team.” - -“Haven’t you ever heard about us?” - -“I think I’ve seen something in the papers about you.” - -“I’ve got the fastest independent team ever pulled together in this -country. There isn’t a man in the bunch who can’t step into any of the -Big Leagues and make good. They have played on the big teams, every one -of them.” - -“Has-beens?” questioned the young man smilingly. - -For a moment it seemed that the manager of the Outlaws would explode -with indignation. - -“Has-beens!” he rasped. “Not on your life! Comers, every one.” - -“But I inferred they had been canned by the big teams.” - -“Canned! Wow! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Not one -big-league manager out of ten knows how to handle an eccentric or -sensitive player. Most of them have the idea that the way to get -baseball out of a man is to pound it into his head that he’s a slob. -They are afraid the new player will get chesty and conceited. Now, -there’s another way to take the conceit out of a youngster without -breaking his spirit. I know how to do it. - -“Never mind; it’s my secret. You’ll find my boys pulling together like -clockwork if you ever see them play. They’re fighters, just the same. -They’re out to win, you bet. Sometimes to see them you would think -they were going to eat one another up. ’Sh! It’s all a bluff. They do -that, so they can turn on the opposing players the same way, and it -generally gets the other team going.” - -Dick lifted a protesting hand. - -“Don’t let me in on too many of your secrets,” he smiled; “for I am -contemplating challenging you to play a game with a team of my own -organizing.” - -Bob Harrison was astonished. He stepped back and surveyed the speaker -from head to foot, an amused, incredulous grin breaking over his face. - -“You?” he exclaimed. “You were thinking of challenging us?” - -“So I said.” - -“I thought maybe I misunderstood you.” - -“Evidently you didn’t.” - -“Where’s your team?” - -“Right here in Colorado Springs.” - -“Oh, some amateur organization, eh?” - -“You might call it that; we wouldn’t call ourselves professionals.” - -“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Harrison. “Why, my boy, it would be a joke.” - -“Well, I don’t know about that. I have an idea that I can get together -nine college baseball players who will make it a fairly interesting -game, if you dare accept my challenge.” - -“Dare!” spluttered Harrison. “Why, young fellow, I’d jump at the -opportunity, if there was anything in it. It wouldn’t be worth my time, -however, to play a bunch of kids.” - -“You won’t find them kids--not exactly. I presume you’ll admit that -there are some college men who can play baseball.” - -“In every way. But the finest college teams have no business with -professionals; in proof of which, consider the result of the regular -yearly Yale-New York game. The ‘Giants’ always have a snap with the -college boys.” - -Dick nodded. - -“That’s the natural order of things,” he confessed. “The New York team -is made up of the best professionals in the country, and those men -play together year after year until they become a machine. Yale picks -from her undergraduates, and the personnel of the team is constantly -changing. This prevents the collegians from working out a team -organization with the fine points of a big professional nine. - -“Nevertheless, year after year New York spots certain promising -youngsters on the college team and attempts to get a line on them. If -those same youngsters could play together season after season under a -crackajack coach, it wouldn’t be long before the Giants would have to -hustle in order to take that spring exhibition game.” - -“You seem to know something about baseball,” admitted the manager of -the Outlaws, nodding his head slowly, “and there’s more or less sense -in what you say; but you’re talking about picking up a team here in -Colorado Springs to butt against the acknowledged fastest independent -nine the country has ever seen. You haven’t practiced together, and you -would be rotten on team work.” - -“By chance,” said the young man, “I happened to come to Colorado -Springs. With me came some players from my own college team. To our -surprise and pleasure, we found here at the Springs some other men from -the same college team. We’ve nearly all played together. I’m confident -that we can get together a nine that will acquit itself with a certain -amount of credit. In fact. I think we can make you hustle to beat us.” - -“You don’t look like a chap with a swelled head; but I’m afraid you’ve -got a touch of it.” - -“In that case,” was the laughing retort, “you might do me an eternal -favor by reducing the swelling.” - -“I’m not working for the benefit of humanity in general; I work for Bob -Harrison’s pocket.” - -“You might be doing that at the same time. You have been well -advertised. Wherever you go people turn out especially to get a look -at your wonderful aggregation of stars. They would do it here, even if -they felt pretty sure that the game might be one-sided. It’s better -than lying idle to-morrow.” - -“What’s your name?” demanded Harrison suddenly. - -“You may call me Dick.” - -“Dick what?” - -“Well, Richard Dick--let it go at that for the present.” - -“Richard Dick? Odd name. Mr. Dick, what do you reckon you’re going to -get out of this?” - -“Sport--that’s my object. If we could beat you, we would get a little -glory also.” - -“I should say so! Beat us? Why, boy, you couldn’t pick up a bunch of -college men in America who could do that trick once out of ten times.” - -“Did it ever occur to you, Mr. Harrison, that you might possibly have a -slight touch of the swelled head yourself?” - -The manager of the Outlaws gasped, frowned, and grinned. - -“Of all sassy youngsters, you are certainly the smoothest.” - -“I’m not insinuating that you have; but such a thing is possible for a -man of any age and station in life. It is true that young men are far -more often afflicted by it. Now, look here, Mr. Harrison, you’re up -against the necessity of lying idle, accepting Charlie Loring’s terms, -or playing with some other team. I don’t think Loring is anxious to -play for some reason or other. He may have been; perhaps he was when he -phoned you. Isn’t it likely that advisers got at him after he phoned -and made it apparent that he would place the Springs in a ridiculous -light if the game was pulled off and your Outlaws buried him alive? -If he could be sure of the soothing balm of an equal division and a -big pull at the gate money, he might afford to let them laugh; but -to be walloped and get the short end of the finances would make him -ridiculous. Now I’m not afraid of anything of that sort.” - -“I should say not! Apparently you’re not afraid of anything at all.” - -“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll guarantee to pick up a team to play -you to-morrow, and the winners shall pocket three-fourths of the gate -money, the losers paying all expenses. Can you ask anything more -satisfactory?” - -“Nothing except an additional guarantee of two hundred and fifty -dollars.” - -“Indeed, you are modest!” scoffed Richard Dick. “You seem to want it -all, and a little something more. But if you think you’re dealing with -a blind sucker, we had better drop the business at once. I’ve told you -I was out for sport, and that will satisfy me. Whatever share of the -gate money might come to me, I’d agree in advance to donate to the -Collins’ Home for Consumptives. I don’t want a dollar above expenses, -and our expenses will be light.” - -“You’re certainly not working this deal as a business proposition,” -agreed Harrison. “How do I know you’ll get up the team? How do I know -you’ll play at all? Perhaps you’ll squeal, as Loring did.” - -“I’ll agree to place a hundred dollars in the hands of the proprietor -of this hotel, as a forfeit to be paid you in case we don’t play. I -shall ask that you put up a similar amount as a forfeit. The game -shall be advertised at once--as soon as I can make arrangements for -the field. The announcement shall be spread broadcast that a team of -college players will meet your Outlaws to-morrow afternoon. What say -you?” - -“It sounds better than nothing,” admitted Harrison slowly. “Of course, -you chaps wouldn’t be much of a drawing card, but we might get out a -fair crowd to see my boys work. Yes, it’s better than nothing.” - -“Do you accept?” - -“Three-fourths to the winners, and the losers to pay all expenses?” - -“Yes.” - -“But the grounds--how can you get them?” - -“Leave it to me. I happen to know Charlie Loring personally. The local -team will not use the grounds to-morrow. I’m confident I can secure -them.” - -“All right,” snapped the manager of the professionals sharply, “it’s -a go. We’ll sign an agreement right away. I have a regular blank -form, which can be filled out in less than a minute. I accept your -proposition that each of us shall place one hundred dollars with the -proprietor of this hotel to stand as a forfeit in case either party -backs down. Come ahead into the writing room.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -DICK MERRIWELL’S FIST. - - -When they came to sign the agreement Harrison was not a little -surprised to note that instead of “Richard Dick” the name the young man -wrote at the foot of the document was Richard Merriwell. - -“Hey?” cried the manager of the Outlaws, gazing at that signature. -“What’s this? I thought you said your name was Dick.” - -“And so it is,” was the smiling answer; “Dick Merriwell. While we were -talking I told you that Richard Dick would serve for the time being.” - -“Merriwell? Merriwell? I’ve heard of a fellow by that name--Frank -Merriwell.” - -“My brother.” - -“That so? He was a great college pitcher. He was one of the college -twirlers the Big Leagues really scrambled for--and couldn’t get.” - -“My brother always had a decided disinclination to play professional -baseball. For him, like myself, it was a highly enjoyable sport; but to -take it up professionally went against the grain.” - -“Oh, yes,” grinned Harrison, “I understand about that. He didn’t have -to do it. If he had been poor, maybe he’d looked at it differently; -but he was loaded with the needful, and, therefore, he could afford to -pose.” - -“At one time, in the midst of his college career, my brother was forced -to leave Yale on account of poverty.” - -“Really?” - -“Really. He might have gone into professional baseball then and made -money.” - -“Why didn’t he?” - -“Because of his prejudice against professionalism in that sport; -because he hoped some day to return to Yale and finish his course, and -he wished to play upon his college team.” - -“Oh, that rule about professionalism is all rot.” - -“It is useless to enter into a discussion over it. It may seem to work -unfairly toward certain clean young college men who might make money -playing summer baseball; but on the whole, it’s an absolute necessity -to keep college baseball from deteriorating into something rotten and -disgraceful.” - -“It’s pretty rotten now in some cases. Lots of college men play for -money on the quiet.” - -“Some may, but not so many as is generally supposed. Those who do so -are dishonest.” - -“That rule makes them dishonest.” - -“No, it doesn’t. They might do something else. There are many ways by -which a college man can earn money to help himself. If he’s a good -player or athlete, he will find hands enough extended to help him. He -will be given opportunities of earning money honestly by honest work. -The trouble with nine out of ten of the ball players who play for money -is that they shirk real work. I said I wouldn’t enter into a discussion -over this rule, but you seem to have lured me into one.” - -“What did your brother do when he had to leave college and go to work?” - -“He started in as an engine wiper in a railroad locomotive roundhouse.” - -“Engine wiper! A greasy, dirty, slaving job.” - -“Well, pretty near that; but he didn’t stay at it long.” - -“Oh! Ho! ho!” laughed Harrison derisively. “It was too much for him, -hey? He quit, did he?” - -Dick Merriwell flushed a little. - -“My brother never quit in his life,” he retorted. “He was promoted. It -wasn’t long before he was a locomotive fireman, and the day came when -his place was at the throttle.” - -“That wasn’t doing so worse,” admitted the baseball manager. “He must -be some hustler.” - -“He’s a hustler all right. He never yet put his hand to the plow and -turned back.” - -“And you’re his brother?” - -“His half-brother.” - -“I haven’t taken much interest in college baseball these late years,” -admitted Harrison. “Been too busy. What position do you play?” - -“I pitch.” - -“Well, my boy, we’ll try to treat you gentle and kind to-morrow. It -would be a shame to spoil your reputation all at once.” - -“That’s very thoughtful,” laughed Dick. “Now, we’ll put up that forfeit -with the hotel proprietor, with the understanding that it doesn’t stand -if we can’t get the park for the game.” - -“We? You said----” - -“That I thought I could make arrangements with Charlie Loring. I do. I -shall attend to that matter at once. Are you stopping at this hotel?” - -“Yes; but my players are at the Sunset.” - -“I’ll phone you as soon as I’ve secured the park.” - -“O. K. I’ve got a lot of paper I’ll agree to scatter through this town, -telling people just what sort of a team they’ll see if they come out -for the game to-morrow.” - -“And I’ll attend to the rest of the advertising.” - -At the desk they called for the proprietor, who came forth, after a -brief delay, from his private office. When the matter was explained he -agreed to hold the forfeit money, which was placed in his hands. - -As they were turning from the desk a lanky, hard-faced man with a -hoarse, rasping voice approached and spoke to Harrison. - -“What’s this about the game here?” he inquired. “I hear it’s off. If -there’s no go to-morrow, I’ll run up to Denver this afternoon to visit -an old partner of mine who’s playing on the Denver nine.” - -“It looks now, Stover,” said Harrison, “as if there might be a game -to-morrow, but not with the regular Springs team.” - -The fellow with the harsh voice appeared decidedly displeased. - -“I was counting on a lay-off,” he growled. - -“You get lay-offs enough, Stover. Out in this country we don’t play -more than four games a week at the most.” - -“Well, when we’re not playing, we’re pounding around over four or five -hundred miles of railroad at a jump.” - -“Quit your growling. You have a snap, and you know it. Can’t you shake -that grouch you’ve had for the last ten days?” - -“Who do we play with, anyhow?” - -“A team of college men.” - -“What? Well, that will be a ripping old game! Them college kids can’t -play baseball. They don’t know what it is.” - -“Perhaps you’ll change your mind after to-morrow,” smiled Dick. - -The fellow gave him a contemptuous stare. - -“Oh, I reckon you’re one of the college guys.” - -“You’re right.” - -“He’s the manager of the team,” explained Harrison. - -“He looks it. Somebody picked him too soon. He isn’t half ripe yet.” - -“Don’t mind Buzzsaw, Merriwell,” said the manager of the Outlaws. “This -is his way when his liver goes wrong.” - -“He needs to take something for his liver,” said Dick. “A shaking up -would do it good. If he handed out enough loose tongue to some people -he might get the shaking up.” - -“Well, blamed if you ain’t a sassy young rat!” rasped Buzzsaw Stover, -an ugly light in his eyes. - -Harrison grasped the man’s shoulder, turned him around, and gave him a -push. - -“Go away, Stover,” he commanded. “You’ve been ready to fight with -anybody for a week or more.” - -“By and by,” laughed Dick quietly, “he will get what he’s hunting for.” - -Stover walked out of the lobby. - -A few minutes later Dick followed. He found Buzzsaw waiting on the -street. The pugnacious Outlaw blocked Dick’s way. - -“What you need, my baby, is a first-class spanking,” rasped Stover. -“If you’d minded your own business, I’d had the rest of to-day and -to-morrow to do as I please.” - -“If I was manager of your team you would have the rest of to-day and -to-morrow, and the brief remainder of this season, and all the seasons -to come, to do as you please,” returned Dick quietly. “I would hand you -a quick shoot that would land you at liberty to please yourself for all -time.” - -“Oh, you would, hey?” - -“That’s what I told you.” - -“Well, I’ll hand you something you won’t forget!” - -As he roared forth the threat Stover sprang in and swung a blow at the -face of the seemingly unprepared Yale man. - -Several minutes later Buzzsaw awoke to find Warwhoop Clinker and Gentle -Willie Touch laboring to revive him, while a curious crowd stood around -looking on. - -“What’s--what’s matter?” mumbled Stover. “What happened to -me--sunstroke? This blamed hot weather----” - -“It was a stroke, all right,” murmured Gentle Willie, “and it was the -son of some proud father who passed it out to you. He was a nice, -clean, sweet-looking young man.” - -“What’s that?” snarled Stover, struggling to rise. “What are you -talking about?” - -“You got up against a polite gent and made one reach for him with a -bunch of fives,” explained Warwhoop. “Willie and I were over across the -way and saw it all. We didn’t know what was going to happen until it -was all over and you had stretched yourself out to rest in the dust. He -reached your jaw with the quickest wallop I ever saw delivered. There -must have been chain lightning behind it, for you went down and out -instanter.” - -Stover felt of his jaw and rubbed his head wonderingly. - -“Who was it?” he asked. “I remember talking to that upstart who’s made -arrangements to put a college team against us to-morrow. He got sassy, -and I decided to take it out of him.” - -“You made a slight miscalculation, Buzzsaw,” murmured Gentle Willie. -“He knocked you stiff.” - -“It’s a lie!” snarled Stover. “Somebody hit me from behind.” - -“No,” denied Clinker, “that young fellow ducked your blow and rose -with a wallop on your jaw that sent you to by-bye land.” - -It was beaten in upon Buzzsaw at last that he had been knocked out in -a flash by a single blow of Dick Merriwell’s fist. He struggled to his -feet a bit weak, but shook off the supporting hand of Warwhoop. - -“He took me by surprise,” he snarled. “I wasn’t looking for it. Wait! -I’ll get him for that, and I’ll get him good and hard!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -ALL ARRANGED. - - -Having disposed of Buzzsaw Stover and seen him cared for by his two -friends, Dick Merriwell quietly walked away and sought Charlie Loring -at the Sunset House, a small hotel at which most of the Outlaws had -found accommodations. - -It fortunately chanced that Loring was there, and soon Dick was -explaining his business. Surprised, the manager of the Springs nine -looked Merriwell over with a queer smile on his face. - -“What’s this you’re giving me?” he said. “You want to engage the ball -park to-morrow? You’ve made arrangements to play Harrison’s Outlaws? -Why, my boy, where’s your ball team?” - -“I’ll have one to-morrow,” laughingly declared Dick. - -“But I don’t understand where you’ll get it.” - -“Leave it to me, Loring. If I can secure the field I’ll put a team -against Harrison’s bunch.” - -“Well, I think perhaps we can fix it about the park. When I entered -into negotiations with Harrison, I had no idea the backers of my team -would object, but in a way they’re a lot of old women, and they got -cold feet. You see, they have an idea that these Outlaws would make us -look like fourth raters, and they’ve figured it out that there wouldn’t -be much of any profit in the game anyway if we got only one-third of -the gate money and stood for all the expenses. - -“Furthermore, it’s a fact that my players are pretty badly smashed -up. We’ve had rotten hard luck this season. I really couldn’t blame -Harrison for making a howl, though he barked it into me so hard that -I had to get away in order to keep from punching him. You understand -when the financial backers of my team got out from under me I had to -find a loophole for myself. Never did such a thing before, and I hope -I’ll never be forced into it again.” - -“Well, if I get together a nine and play the Outlaws it will let you -out all the more gracefully. Your backers ought to jump at this chance. -They really ought to give us the use of the park without money and -without price.” - -“That’s right. Perhaps I can fix it that way. I’ll put it up to them -good and stiff and let you know inside an hour. I’ll phone you at your -hotel; I know where you’re stopping.” - -“Thank you.” - -“Still, as a special favor, would you mind telling me where you expect -to get your players?” - -“Buckhart, the regular Yale catcher, is here with me. Two others of my -party are Tommy Tucker, who once played short on the Yale varsity, and -Bouncer Bigelow, who isn’t much at baseball, but might fill right field -on a pinch--though I hope I won’t have to use him. Chester Arlington, -an old Fardale schoolmate, is stopping here, along with his mother and -sister. To my surprise and delight, this very morning I ran across old -Greg McGregor, a Yale grad who once played on the varsity nine, and -McGregor tells me that Blessed Jones, another Yale man, will be down -from Denver this afternoon. They’re out here on some sort of a business -deal. - -“There are seven men of the nine, if we count Bigelow in. Jimmy Lozier -and Duncan Ross, two Columbia men, are here at the Springs, stopping -at the Alta Vista. We sat out in the moonlight last night and talked -baseball and college athletics for two hours. The fever is still -burning in their veins, and they would jump at the chance to get into a -game. - -“So you see, Loring, old man, I’m confident that I can get a team -together. I hope to find another man, so that I can keep Bigelow on the -bench in case of accident. I didn’t jump into this blindly; I had it -all figured out in advance.” - -“Well, it seems that you can scrape up a team; but, oh, my boy! what -chance do you fancy you will have against the Outlaws? They will make a -holy show of you.” - -“Perhaps so,” nodded Dick; “but you never can tell. We’re not going -into this thing for money. In fact, I’ve agreed to donate my share of -the gate receipts to the Collins’ Home for Consumptives. It’s sport -we’re after, Loring.” - -“There isn’t much sport in being wiped all over the map. However, if -you fancy it, that’s your funeral, not mine. I’ll do what I can for -you.” - -“Harrison has agreed to pepper the town with paper advertising his own -team. I’m to look after the rest of the advertising.” - -“Leave that to me also, Merriwell. If I can get the park for you, I’ll -see that everybody at the Springs knows there’s going to be a game -to-morrow.” - -“Thank you, Loring. You’re putting yourself to too much trouble.” - -“Not at all. I couldn’t put myself to too much trouble to oblige the -brother of Frank Merriwell.” - -True to his word, in less than an hour Charlie Loring looked up Dick -at the big hotel where Merriwell was registered and informed him that -he had found no difficulty in securing the ball park. The matter of -advertising was discussed, and Loring hastened away to attend to it. - -Having phoned Harrison and put him wise to the successful course of -affairs, the Yale man looked around for Lozier and Ross. He found the -latter in a short time, and Ross delightedly agreed to play, giving his -positive assurance that Lozier would be equally glad of the opportunity. - -Things were moving along swimmingly. On the broad veranda of the hotel -Dick discovered Chester Arlington, who greeted him with a friendly -smile. - -Arlington pricked up his ears at once on hearing what Merriwell had to -say. - -“Baseball?” he cried. “A game with the Outlaws? Why, say! I thought -they were to play the local team.” - -“So they were, but it’s off--a disagreement over terms.” - -“And you’ve got it fixed to tackle them?” - -“It’s all fixed. The ball ground is engaged for the game.” - -“Will I play!” laughed Chester. “_Will_ I! Ask me! I haven’t touched a -ball, it is true, since I played down in Texas with Frank’s pick-ups. -Oh, we gave the great Tigers a surprise down there! But say, I’ve -been looking over the list of games played by these Outlaws, and they -walloped the Tigers to a whisper. They must be the real hot stuff.” - -“I fancy they are,” nodded Dick. - -“Think we’ll stand any show with them?” - -“I don’t know about that. We’ll do our handsomest, and it won’t kill us -if we’re beaten. Nevertheless, if they win we’ll try to leave them with -the impression that they’ve been in a baseball game.” - -“Surest thing you know, Dick. Say, old man, think of it! You and I -playing together shoulder to shoulder--you and I, old foes of bygone -days! I’m not especially proud of my record in those old days; but -still, I can’t help thinking of it sometimes.” - -“I think of it often, Chet. As an enemy you were the hardest fighter I -ever got up against.” - -“Absolutely unscrupulous,” said Arlington. “In those times it was -anything to down you, Merriwell. I used to think you lucky, the way you -dodged my best-laid traps and sort of ducked me into the pits of my own -digging. After a time I got my eyes opened and realized that it wasn’t -luck--it was sheer superiority. I was sowing the wind in those days, -and it’s a marvel that I didn’t reap the whirlwind. I was the lucky -man, after all.” - -Indeed, Arlington had been fortunate; for a score of times, at least, -he had been concerned in heinous plots and schemes which might have -lodged him behind prison bars. His reckless career had carried him to -the point of nearly committing homicide, and the shock of it, together -with Dick Merriwell’s friendly eye-opening words, had finally caused -him to turn over a new leaf. - -The fight to regain his lost manliness and win an honorable standing in -the world had been long and bitter; but, with those words from Dick’s -lips echoing in his heart, he had struggled onward and upward. At last -he had shaken himself free from the shackles of evil passions and bad -habits, and, despite occasional falls and lapses, had risen to a man -whom any one might proudly call friend. - -In business, as in other things, Chester had shown himself to be a -thoroughbred hustler and the worthy son of D. Roscoe Arlington, once -known as the greatest railroad magnate of the country. This hustling -had lifted him into financial independence, despite his youth, and -placed him on the road to wealth. Mingled with remorse for his reckless -past, there remained the regret that he had never been able to take a -course at Yale. - -“Buckhart, Tucker, and Bigelow are out somewhere with old Greg McGregor -in my touring car,” said Dick. “They will be ready enough for the -sport. Tommy and Bouncer spent a week, with headquarters here at the -Springs, while Brad and I hunted up Scott Randolph, an old college -acquaintance of my brother. We found Randolph in the foothills west of -Denver. It’s a mighty interesting tale, Arlington, and I’ll spin it for -you sometime when we’re sitting down comfortably at leisure.” - -“Good! Think of it--you and I sitting down comfortably at leisure and -chatting! But say, old man, I wish you would have a little chat with my -mother.” - -“Your mother?” breathed Dick, not a little surprised by the proposal. - -“Yes. You know she’s ill. It’s pitiful, old man--she has almost -completely lost her memory. I was speaking to her of you last night, -and she tried in vain to recall you. She’s sitting yonder at the far -end of the veranda.” - -As Chester made a motion with his hand Dick’s eyes discovered a woman, -seated amid pillows in a big, comfortable chair. He was shocked. Was it -possible that this thin, sad-faced, white-haired old lady was Chester -Arlington’s mother, the woman who, as an enemy, had been even bitterer -and more venomous than Arlington himself? - -There she sat with her pallid hands resting on her lap, gazing dreamily -upon the mountains which rose majestically against the western sky. - -“Will you come, Merriwell, old man?” asked Arlington softly, as his -hand rested on Dick’s arm. - -“Yes,” was the answer. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -CHESTER ARLINGTON’S MOTHER. - - -Mrs. Arlington looked up as they approached, and at sight of her son a -faint smile passed over her face. From her faded eyes the old fire had -died, to be rekindled no more. There was no longer rouge upon cheeks -or lips, and the hands which had once been loaded with jewels were now -undecorated, save by a single heavy ring of gold, her wedding ring. Her -dress was plain and modest, almost somber. - -“Mother,” said Chester tenderly, “this is Dick Merriwell. You remember, -don’t you, that we were speaking of him last evening?” - -“Dick--Dick Merriwell?” she murmured. “Were we speaking of him, -Chester? I’m so very forgetful. It’s annoying to be so extremely -forgetful.” - -“Yes, mother, I told you that he was my dearest friend--the fellow I -esteem above all others.” - -She held out her hand, which Dick promptly took, bowing low, his head -bared. - -“You will excuse me, Mr. Merriwell,” she said. “I would rise to greet -my son’s dearest friend, but I’m not very strong.” - -“I wouldn’t have you rise for the world, Mrs. Arlington,” said Dick, -his voice a trifle unsteady in spite of himself, a slight mist creeping -into his eyes. “I am very glad indeed to meet Chester Arlington’s -mother. It is a pleasure and a privilege.” - -“Thank you,” she returned, looking at him earnestly. “You have a fine -face, and you are a thoroughbred gentleman. My boy has to mingle with -very rough characters, you know--his business demands it. His business -is--it is---- Chester, what is your business?” - -“Mining, mother.” - -“Oh, yes. Isn’t it strange I can’t remember such things? My daughter is -here with me. Have you ever met my daughter, Mr. Merriwell?” - -Had he ever met June Arlington! It seemed impossible that her mind -could be blank to all recollection of the past, in which she had so -intensely opposed the friendship between June and Dick. - -“I have met her, Mrs. Arlington.” - -“You seem to have forgotten, mother,” said Chester, “that June and Dick -are quite well acquainted. They met for the first time several years -ago at Fardale.” - -“Fardale--that’s the place where you attended school, I think you told -me. It was your father’s choice to send you there, was it not? Seems to -me I opposed it; and that, I presume, was the reason why I never cared -to visit you at Fardale.” - -She had spent months at Fardale! - -Unobserved by Mrs. Arlington, Chester and Dick exchanged glances. -Although Chet was smiling, Dick knew that deep down in his heart there -was hidden a great sorrow for the affliction of his mother. - -“My daughter is a very charming young lady,” Mrs. Arlington continued. -“In a way, I am quite as proud of her as I am of my fine, manly boy. -Few mothers are blessed with such children.” - -“Few indeed,” agreed Dick, accepting the chair which Chester had placed -beside that of Mrs. Arlington. “I quite agree with you, madam.” - -“You see, mother,” laughed Chester, “Merriwell is something of a -flatterer.” - -“I am sure it is not flattery. I see nothing but sincerity in his face -and eyes. Is he interested in your business affairs, my son?” - -“Oh, no, indeed. He is still a student at college. He’s the pride -of old Yale, the college I would have attended had circumstances -permitted.” - -A slight frown of perplexity settled upon her forehead. - -“I can’t understand how circumstances could have prevented you from -attending any school you wished to attend, my son. Am I not right in -thinking that your father was in a situation to give you the advantage -of a course at any college in the country?” - -He evaded the question. - -“At the time when I was contemplating entering Yale,” he said, “I saw a -business opportunity that fascinated me.” - -“I shall never cease to regret that you chose to let business interfere -with your education, Chester. You might have attended college, and -been assured that your father would have set you up in any business or -profession you chose to follow.” - -There was not the slightest recollection of the fact that appalling -reverses had stripped D. Roscoe Arlington of wealth and power and made -it necessary for him to husband the few resources left him, in order to -provide for himself and his wife in their old age. - -More than once Chester had wondered at the strength of the man who, in -face of such calamities, had found it possible to hold up his head and -resist the temptation to put a bullet through his brain. It is almost -invariably the brave man who survives crushing adversity; it is the -coward who commits suicide. - -“Father was not very well, you know,” Chester went on. “Besides, it is -often the worthless chap who depends upon his pater to start him out in -life.” - -“You are very independent, my son. I presume it’s a spirit to be proud -of. I can’t quite understand why your father didn’t come out here with -us.” - -“He didn’t wish to take the long railroad journey, mother. We’re going -back in a few days. A letter from the physician tells me that father is -not at all well.” - -“Then we should return at once. If he is ill, my place is at his side. -You must stay with us, Chester.” - -“I am going back with you, but I can’t stay there long unless it is -absolutely necessary. A man of business,” he added, “makes a serious -blunder when he neglects his affairs. In these hustling times, a fellow -has to keep on the jump to gather in the shekels.” - -“Oh, but there’s something better than mere money. Whoever gives -himself wholly to the accumulation of wealth loses half his life.” - -The change in her was marvelous, for once her only thought had seemed -to be of wealth and power and social prestige. A country girl, risen -from the humblest station in life, she had slavishly worshiped false -gods. After all, was it not a blessing of kind Providence that the -page of the past had been turned down and sealed for her? There was -no recollection of the years she had spent in a private sanitarium, -separated from husband and children--and that was well. - -They sat there talking for some time. Other guests of the hotel came -forth in summer garments and scattered themselves in chairs along -the veranda to get the cool breath which now came creeping down from -the snow-capped Rockies. Parties of sight seers were returning from -Manitou, the Garden, the Cañon, Monument Park, and other near-by places -of interest. Nearly all the guests of that big hotel were tourists from -the East. - -Presently a large touring car containing four young men rolled up to -the steps and stopped. Brad Buckhart was at the wheel. His companions -were Tucker, Bigelow, and Gregory McGregor. - -At sight of them Dick rose and excused himself, bidding Mrs. Arlington -adieu. - -Chester proposed to take his mother to her room, but she declined, -saying that she preferred to sit there a while longer. - -“Go with your friend, my boy,” she urged. “I am all right. Don’t worry -about me. Such a friend as that young man is worth cleaving to.” - -“You’ve sized him up right at last, mother.” - -“At last?” she breathed. “Why, I’ve never had the opportunity before. I -could only judge of him from what you told me about him.” - -“Oh, of course--certainly,” said Chester hastily. “I’ll return -directly, mother.” - -Buckhart had turned the car over to a man from the garage, who took it -away. - -Tucker threw himself into a chair on the veranda. - -“There,” he said, “we’ve done up this old town brown. We’ve taken a -peek from the top of Pike’s Peak, we’ve gaped at the wonders in the -Garden of the Gods, we’ve seen a man or two down at Manitou--likewise -two or three girls. There isn’t anything more to be done, and I’m ready -to weep. Bigelow, lend me your handkerchief.” - -“Not on your life,” said Bouncer. “I’m sick of paying laundry bills for -you. I’ve been lending you handkerchiefs and socks and pajamas until -the laundry man has got the most of my wealth.” - -“Now, wouldn’t I look well rattling around in a suit of your pajamas!” -scoffed Tommy. “Big, you’re a heartless, unfeeling creature, and I -repudiate you as a friend. In order to get up some excitement to kill -the monotony, I’ll have to kill you.” - -“There’s a little excitement in the air,” said Dick. Then he told them -of the arrangements for the baseball game. - -“Wow! wow!” barked Tucker delightedly. “You’ve saved my life, Richard. -You’ve preserved me from a possibly fatal attack of ennui. Will we play -the Outlaws? Oh, say, watch us!” - -“But can you get together a team, pard?” asked Buckhart. - -“I’ve figured it all out. We will have nine men, including Bigelow.” - -“What?” cried Tommy, jumping up. “Are you going to let Big play? That -settles it. It’s all off as far as I’m concerned.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“I quit. I throw up both hands. Bigelow play baseball! Say, Dick, -you’re a subject for the dotty house.” - -“Oh, come now,” protested the fat fellow. “I don’t pretend to be a -crack at baseball, but if you’ve got to have me, I’ll do my best. One -thing I’m proud of, I never was dropped from the Yale varsity.” - -“A stab at me,” snapped Tucker; “a most unkind thrust. But, look here, -it’s a well-known fact that I got too fast for the varsity.” - -“Oh, yes,” agreed Bouncer, “you got too fast all right. You certainly -hit a fast pace, and it’s a wonder you didn’t get too fast for the -college. All your friends expected you would be invited to chase -yourself.” - -“Of course,” said Dick, “if we can find a crackajack ninth man, Big -will be willing to sit on the bench and look handsome. You see, we’ll -give the impression that he’s a marvelous pinch hitter, and his size -ought to awe the Outlaws.” - -“I’m a martyr,” said Bigelow. “For the sake of any good cause I am -ready to be benched. In fact, I’d really enjoy playing the game on the -bench, for then I wouldn’t have to exert myself and get all damp with -perspiration and rumple my beautiful hair and scatter a lot of cuticule -around the diamond sliding to bases. I love baseball, but oh, you -cuticule!” - -“You’re sure a generous, self-sacrificing soul, Bouncer,” grinned -Buckhart. - -Dick told of his encounter with Buzzsaw Stover. - -“I opine,” observed Brad, “that Mr. Stover thought something worse than -a buzz saw had struck him.” - -As they were chatting in this manner two horsemen came riding along the -street. One of them, the younger, was dressed in corduroy and woollens. -He sat his horse beautifully. The other, however, was the most -picturesque figure of the two: for both were Indians, and the older -man, bent and bowed, wore, despite the warmth of the unclouded sun, a -dirty old red blanket draped about his shoulders. - -Tucker saw them first, and, uttering a yell, he grabbed Dick’s shoulder. - -“Look,” he cried, pointing; “look there, Richard! What do you see?” - -“So help me marvels,” exclaimed Dick, astounded, “it’s old Joe Crowfoot -and young Joe!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -TWO INDIAN FRIENDS. - - -True enough, the newcomers were Dick’s childhood friend Shangowah, and -his grandson, young Joe Crowfoot, Dick’s college friend. The young -Indian’s keen eyes had discovered Dick already, and there was a smiling -look of joyous astonishment on his handsome bronzed face. Both redskins -reined toward the hotel steps as the group of young men came charging -down from the veranda. - -Then the guests lounging on that veranda beheld a singular spectacle. -They saw the young Indian leap from his horse and shake hands with one -after another of those delighted youthful palefaces. They saw the old -Indian let himself down slowly and painfully from the saddle to stand -half bent and seemingly tottering, with arms extended, to give Dick -Merriwell an affectionate embrace. This was a sight that caused many of -the wondering ladies, and not a few spick and span gentlemen, to gasp -and turn up their noses. - -“Of all surprising things,” young Joe was saying, “this is the -greatest. Merriwell, Buckhart, Tucker, Bigelow--here in Colorado -Springs!” - -“Right here, chief,” chirped Tommy, “and ready at sight of your -beaming, dusky mug to execute a war dance, a ghost dance, a waltz, or -an Irish jig of joy. Tell us, how doth it happen thou art gallivanting -around these parts?” - -“Shangowah, my grandfather, sent a message requesting me to meet him -here,” explained the youthful redskin. - -Old Joe having released Dick, nodded his head slowly. - -“The long trail,” he said, “has led Shangowah’s feet near to the place -where he must lie down for the big sleep that has no end. Shangowah -him mighty near polished off, finished up, cooked, done for. He think -he like once more to put him blinkers on Wind-that-roars-in-the-night, -his grandson; so he get white man to write talking letter that say for -young Joe to come.” - -“Now, Crowfoot,” protested Dick, “I’ve heard you sing this same song -before, but I notice that you invariably come out of these spells with -colors flying.” - -Nevertheless, in his heart Merriwell was pained to note positive signs -of declining strength and vitality in the old redskin. - -“Mebbe sometime old Joe he make bluff ’bout it,” confessed Shangowah; -“but no can keep up bluff always. Bimeby, pretty soon, time come when -bluff is real thing, and old man he have to croak. He no think when he -get paleface friend to write talking letter that mebbe he meet you, -too, Injun Heart. He much happy.” - -“Come up onto the veranda out of this sun,” urged Dick. “There are some -chairs yonder, and you can rest while we talk a little.” - -“Sun him feel good to old Crowfoot,” mumbled the bowed and aged chief. -“Blood get thin in old man’s body; sun he warm it up some. All same, -Crowfoot like little powwow with Injun Heart and friends.” - -Pride would not permit him to allow Dick to assist him up the steps. -With an effort he mounted them in a certain slow and dignified manner. - -Surprised and not at all pleased, some of the guests upon the veranda -stared at the aged redskin and the presuming young fellows who had -brought him thither. The two saddled horses had been turned over to the -care of a boy. - -McGregor placed the easiest chair for old Crowfoot, but the chief -declined to take it. - -“No like-um chair,” he said, as he slowly let himself down to a sitting -posture upon the floor of the veranda, placing his back against the -hotel wall. “When Shangowah get so he can’t sit this fashion, he stand -up till he flop over for good. He take little smoke now.” - -The old rank, black pipe was produced, crumbed tobacco jammed into -the bowl with a soiled thumb, and Crowfoot lighted up. As the breeze -carried the tobacco smoke from his lips toward some of the near-by -guests they turned up their noses still further and moved away, making -some low, uncomplimentary remarks. - -“Dear me!” chuckled Tommy Tucker. “The dukes and duchesses seem -disturbed by the fragrant aroma of the chief’s calumet.” - -“Never mind them,” said Dick. “Let’s mind our own business and pay -no attention to people whose delicate sensibilities are so easily -disturbed. Tell me, Shangowah, how has the world been using you?” - -“Ugh!” grunted Crowfoot, pulling slowly at the pipe. “Same old way. -Knock-um Injun ’round like young palefaces kick football. Sometime -old Joe he be up; sometime he be down in mud. No can seem to settle -nowhere. Injun have no home now. Palefaces take it all; pretty soon, -bimeby, he own the earth.” - -“That’s practically his now,” grinned Tucker, “and with flying machines -he’s preparing to set forth for the conquering of other worlds.” - -“I was doing well guiding this summer,” said young Joe, “when I -received my grandfather’s letter asking me to meet him here. I need all -the money I can earn to help me through college, but----” - -“Shangowah he have little dough in his kick,” interrupted the old man. -“He have ’nough to pay bills for his grandson one whole year at white -man’s big school. He no take chances to send it by mails; he want to -hand it over himself, so he send for young Joe.” - -“You must have made a lucky strike of some sort, chief,” said Dick. - -“Oh, old Joe he manage to scrape along. He play little poke’ now and -then. He get together some mon’ ’bout time big fight come off in Reno. -Never see big fight like that, so he think he take it in. He go to -Reno. Ugh! Everybody there. Town plumb full, swelled up, run over; but -old Joe he got ’long--he sleep anywhere, he eat anyhow.” - -“Well, what do you think of the old sport,” cried Tucker delightedly, -“taking in a big prize fight? Did you see it, Crowfoot?” - -The aged Indian gave the little chap a look of pained reproof. - -“You bet-um your boots,” he grunted. “Old Joe he buy ring-side seat. -He meet up with heap much fight men before scrap come off. He look-um -John Jack over; he look-um Jim Jeff over. He like-um Jim Jeff, but when -he hear how Jim go by, when he see John Jack in prime, he think mebbe -Jim no come back good enough to whip Jack. He have little talk with Jim -Cob, too. He hold small powwow with John Sul.” - -“Waugh!” laughed Buckhart. “You certainly got in with high society at -Reno.” - -“Jim Cob,” continued Crowfoot, “he tell old Joe, Jim Jeff sure to win. -Him fine feller that Jim Cob, but he make big mistake. Old Joe he -listen heap much, say nothing, think all the time. When he see big odds -on Jim Jeff he think mebbe it is good chance to make fancy clean-up, -so he bet last dollar on John Jack. He win fourteen hundred plunk, -United States cash, clean dough.” - -“Well, what do you know about that!” gasped Gregory McGregor, in -profound admiration. “But what would you have done if you had lost -every cent you had in the world, chief?” - -Old Crowfoot looked at him wisely. - -“If so,” he replied, “it not be first time Shangowah get skinned to him -teeth. He take chance more than once. He go busted more than once. He -always find some way to get on feet again.” - -“You blessed old soldier of fortune!” chuckled Tucker. “How I admire -you! If I was not fearful you would rise up and take my scalp, I would -slap you familiarly on the back.” - -“Back ’gainst wall,” reminded old Joe, sucking at the gurgling pipe. -“Rheumatiz in back. Anybody slap-um Shangowah on back, he get in heap -much trouble.” - -“We’re stopping at a small hotel called the Sunset House,” said young -Joe. “I knew some of the big hotels might object--or the guests -might--if my grandfather should seek accommodations in them.” - -“The Sunset House?” said Dick. “Why, that’s where Harrison’s ball team -is putting up.” - -“Yes,” nodded young Joe, “they’re there. To-morrow they play with the -Springs’ nine, and my grandfather wishes to see the game.” - -“They will not play with the Springs’ nine to-morrow.” - -“Why not? That’s what brought them here.” - -“But that game has been called off.” - -“Too bad,” mumbled old Crowfoot. “Joe he get so he like-um baseball -heap much. He like-um to see one more game.” - -“Well, you’ll have the chance,” smiled Dick, “for to-morrow Harrison’s -Outlaws will play a team picked up by yours truly, Richard Merriwell, -and your grandson is going to be in that game as a member of my nine.” - -A light of joy leaped into the old redskin’s beady black eyes. - -“The Great Spirit is good!” he said. “Shangowah he like to see young -Joe and Injun Heart play again, but he no expect to have the chance.” - -After a time the two Indians departed, young Joe having delightedly -agreed to take part in the baseball game. - -Even as the redskins were departing a tall, lank, insipid-looking young -man in flannels detached himself from a group of guests and approached -Merriwell’s party. - -“I--I say, m’friends,” he drawled, “don’t you really think it’s -rawther _outré_--rawther bad taste, you understand? You should realize -that there are ladies and gentlemen here. You should understand -that bringing such offensive persons onto this veranda is deucedly -distasteful.” - -Dick smilingly faced the fellow and took his measure. - -“I don’t think,” he said, “I’ve ever been introduced to you.” - -“Quite unnecessary--quite. My name is Archie Ling.” - -“Ting-a-ling-ling,” chirped Tommy. - -Mr. Ling gave the little chap a look intended to be crushing. - -“I’m addressing this young man here,” he said haughtily. “I’m -remonstrating against bringing common, dirty, foul-smelling creatures -like those Indians onto the veranda of this hotel, and I hope my -remonstrance will be heeded. If it occurs again, the guests will feel -it their duty to protest to the management.” - -“They may file their protests as soon as they please,” said Dick -quietly. “Those Indians are friends of mine.” - -“Aw, really, you ought to be ashamed to make such an acknowledgement. -If circumstances of any sort made it necessary for me to know such -characters, I’d certainly do my best to hide the fact from the general -public. I’d never acknowledge that I was friendly with an Indian, -never.” - -“Don’t worry,” returned Dick; “you would never have the chance, for I -don’t know an Indian who would care to be friendly with you. Look here, -Mr. Ling, you’re poking your nose into a crack where it’s liable to get -pinched.” - -“Or twisted,” growled Buckhart. “Back up, Ling. Chase yourself, before -somebody is tempted to put their paws on you and toss you over the -rail.” - -“Such insolence!” sniffed Ling. “I don’t understand how such cheap, -common people ever could find accommodations here.” - -“Judging by appearances, your understanding is very limited,” said -Merriwell. “Really, I think it is dangerous for you to strain your -meagre intellect to understand things beyond your narrow scope.” - -“Now, say, that’s insulting--actually insulting! I shall hold myself -in restraint, however. In behalf of the ladies and gentlemen who were -offended, I protest again against a repetition of your recent behavior.” - -“Go away and play with your dolls,” begged Tucker. “If you annoy -people, somebody will give you a spanking.” - -Mr. Ling gasped and choked. - -“How dare you talk to me like that, you little----” - -Tommy was on his toes in a twinkling. - -“Cut it out, Ting-a-ling-ling,” he interrupted, “or I’ll hand you -the spanking myself, and I’ll guarantee that I can do the job to the -queen’s taste.” - -“Sic him, Tommy,” gurgled Bigelow delightedly. “For once in my life -I’ll bet on you.” - -But the lanky young man backed away. - -“It’s evident,” he spluttered, “that you’re a set of young ruffians. I -shall inform the management what I think of you.” - -“If you try to think too hard you may get a pain in that upper story -vacuum of yours.” - -Ling retired, still muttering, and reported to the watching guests, -some of whom seemed amused, while others betrayed sympathetic -indignation. Neither Dick nor his friends, however, gave any one of -them further attention. - -“I’ll have to get suits for the bunch,” said Merriwell. “Brad, Tommy, -and I have ours, which we brought along with us on the tour. I’ll find -Loring and see if he can fit the rest of the crowd out with uniforms.” - -In this he was successful, and ere the dinner hour he had procured -uniforms enough for ten men, one of which, according to Loring’s -statement, was fully large enough for Bouncer Bigelow. He likewise -learned that Loring had set about advertising the game in a manner -which promised to leave no one at the Springs uninformed concerning it. - -An hour after dinner, Dick found Chester and June Arlington chatting on -the veranda. Mrs. Arlington had retired to her room. - -“Just in time to entertain sis, old fellow,” laughed Chet. “I have a -little business that I should look after. Make yourselves sociable.” - -He left them together, whistling on his way down the street. - -For a time they spoke somewhat constrainedly of commonplace things. -Finally June put out a hand and touched Dick’s sleeve lightly. - -“Dick,” she murmured, “I have something that I want to say. I want to -tell you just what’s in my heart, but I can’t. Perhaps you understand -how happy I am. Perhaps you know that I appreciate all you have done -for my brother.” - -“I never did much for Chester, June. It was impossible; he wouldn’t let -me.” - -“You did everything for him. He knows it, and he has spoken of it many -times. It was you who made him what he is.” - -“Hardly that, June. If there had not been the making of a man in him, I -could have done nothing. Really, I did nothing but----” - -“Many a time you had it in your power to punish him as he justly -deserved, and yet you held your hand.” - -“For your sake, June, not his,” whispered Dick as his fingers found -hers in the soft darkness. - -Again it was impossible for her to find the words she sought, and their -hands clung together. - -“It’s so strange,” she said, in a low tone; “so strange that my mother -should speak of you with such deep friendliness. She told me about -meeting you this afternoon. She told me how glad she was that Chester -had such a staunch and worthy friend. She’s wonderfully changed, Dick.” - -“She is indeed.” - -“The doctors have given some encouragement that her memory might be -restored, but I almost think it is better as it is. The recollection of -the past would be bitter to her now.” - -“To all of us the past holds both sweet and bitter memories.” - -“I’m very glad fortune brought us together here at the Springs, if only -for a few days. We must take mother back home soon, for father is ill -and lonely. Poor father! In his heart he always admired you, Dick.” - -Thus drawn into reminiscences and memories of the past, they chatted -until Chester finally returned. - -Five minutes after the reappearance of Arlington, a tall, -quick-stepping young man ascended from the street, and by the light -over the entrance of the hotel Dick recognized young Joe Crowfoot. - -Joe turned and came forward quickly at Merriwell’s call. - -“Looking for you, Dick,” he said. “You can handle my grandfather better -than I. He will listen to you when he won’t hear a word from me. -Unfortunately, he’s started to celebrate the pleasure of our meeting -here. You know what that means. He’s found liquor. I’ve locked him in -a room at the Sunset, but I can’t get the whisky away from him. I wish -you would come over with me and see what you can do.” - -“I will,” said Dick. “I’ll come, Joe.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -THE MAN IN THE NEXT ROOM. - - -Gentle Willie Touch, of the Outlaws, was an inveterate poker player. He -was likewise a constant loser, but the more he lost the keener became -his desire to play; and so whenever he was paid his salary or could -borrow money to get into a game, he might be found trying to “hatch up -something.” - -At the Sunset House, as the members of Harrison’s ball team lounged -around after dinner, Willie sought to inveigle some of his comrades -into tempting fortune with the pasteboards. - -“Oh, come on, you sick kittens,” he pleaded softly. “Come ahead up to -my room and rob me. I’ve got twenty bucks all in hard money that’s too -heavy for me to carry around. The weight of so much silver is a severe -strain upon my delicate strength, and some one will be doing me a favor -by taking it away from me.” - -“Get out!” growled Grouch Kennedy. “I’m ashamed to play with you, -you’re such a thundering mark. Every time I get into a game and you go -broke I want to hand you back anything I’ve won, and that causes me -intense pain; for I can’t seem to give up money without distress. I’ve -sworn off, Willie boy; I’ll play with you no more.” - -“Cruel old Groucher!” sighed Touch. “Now you know you’re welcome to my -dough when you win it honestly.” - -“Talk about honesty in a poker game!” sneered Kennedy. “Who ever heard -of such a thing?” - -“You know there’s supposed to be honesty even among thieves.” - -“‘Supposed to be’ is good! You’ll have to find somebody else, Willie. -Your twenty doesn’t tempt me. I’m sore because these locals got cold -feet, and I’d be poor company, anyhow. I might growl.” - -“Goodness!” said Willie. “If you didn’t, everybody would think you -sick. You’re always sore about something, you old groucher. Tell you -what I think, I have a notion that you’re afraid of me. You’re not -willing to give me a chance to get even. That’s a mean disposition.” - -But he could not taunt Kennedy into playing. Nevertheless, in -time he found three men who were willing to sit into a game for a -while--Buzzsaw Stover, Warwhoop Clinker, and South-paw Pope. They -followed him up to his room, where the quartette peeled off their -coats, rolled up their sleeves, and seated themselves around a table -upon which Willie tossed a well-thumbed pack of cards. - -“Too bad we couldn’t find one more man,” said Touch. “Five players make -a better game than four. Shall we use chips?” - -“Nix,” said Warwhoop. “Let’s play with real money, and then there won’t -be any disagreement and chewing the rag over settling up. Every time -chips are used the banker finds himself short. Cold cash is better, and -out in this country there’s always plenty of coin floating around. I’ve -got a pocket full of chicken feed.” - -“Haven’t you better cards than these, Willie?” asked South-paw, looking -the pack over disdainfully. - -“Dunno,” was the answer. “Mebbe I have in my clothes somewhere. I’ll -see.” - -Touch opened the door of a closet at the back of the room and went -through a suit of clothes hanging inside that closet. - -“Nothing doing,” he called. “Those are all the cards I have. Perhaps -I’d better go out and get a new pack.” - -“Aw, forget it!” rasped Buzzsaw. “These’ll do. Come on, let’s get down -to business.” - -Seated at the table, they produced fists full of silver and gold money -and cut the cards for the first deal. - -“Dollar limit?” inquired Warwhoop. - -“Let’s make it a little lighter,” urged Touch. “With that limit my -twenty wouldn’t last long if luck ran against me as usual. Luck--Grouch -says you’re all thieves. He doesn’t believe there’s such a thing as -honesty among poker players.” - -“Grouch judges everybody by himself,” said Stover, who had cut “low” -and was shuffling the cards. “Still, I’m willing to call it a half, -with a dime limit; there seems to be plenty of dimes. Cut, Clinker. -Your ante, South-paw.” - -Touch piled up his silver dollars in front of him, kissing them, one -after another. - -“Good-by, boys,” he murmured. “I know we must part. You’ll soon be -scattered among my good friends, these thieves. I love money, but, oh, -you little game of draw!” - -“Hark!” rasped Buzzsaw. “What’s that?” - -To a sad and doleful tune some one in the adjoining room was singing: - - “We from childhood played together, - Heap fine comrade, Jack and I; - We would fight each other’s battles, - To each other’s aid we’d fly.” - -“Oh, cut it out!” roared Buzzsaw. “Go file your voice.” - -“That’s the tune the old cat died on,” cried South-paw. - -“Something awful!” growled Warwhoop. “It would drive a man to murder.” - -“These partitions are very thin,” said Gentle Willie. “I don’t think -much of the old man bunking us in this place, when he might have put us -up at the Antlers, the Alamo, or the Alta Vista.” - -“Oh, what do you want, anyhow?” cried Warwhoop. “Do you want to be a -howling swell? If he had put us up at any one of those places it would -have cost him two or three times as much as it does here. Here the feed -is good, the bed is fair, and I’m not kicking for some of the places -we’ve bunked in. Let’s play poker.” - -As the game got under way they were still further disturbed by a -doleful, wailing chant which floated in from the adjoining room. -Listening in spite of themselves, they heard something like this: - - “No booka lo go dana, - No booka lo go dana, - No booka lo go dana-- - Happy he away yah!” - -“What the blazes is it,” snarled Buzzsaw; “Chinese, Hottentot, or----” - -“Injun,” said South-paw. “If that ain’t an Injun dirge I’ll eat my hat.” - -“Sure it is,” agreed Warwhoop. “They’ve put a couple of Injuns into -that room, a crazy old brave and a tall young buck.” - -“They seem to be celebrating,” laughed Gentle Willie. “I should say -they had been indulging in fire water.” - -“Don’t talk of it,” entreated Warwhoop. “You make me thirsty, and I -have to be careful to let the booze alone while the baseball season is -in swing.” - -Clinker’s besetting weakness was his taste for liquor. Started on a -toot by a single drink, he invariably went the limit, which meant a -protracted spree from which he always recovered in a shaky condition. - -The doleful singing continuing, they yelled threats at the singer and -threw things against the partition. The result was a sudden burst of -fierce and startling whoops and yells, followed by a return thumping on -that same partition. - -“Wow!” gasped Warwhoop, his eyes bulging. “I think mebbe we’d better -let that party alone. He may break through and attempt to scalp us if -we continue to irritate him.” - -“Close the door to the closet, Willie,” directed South-paw. “That’s -what makes us hear it so plain.” - -“I guess you’re right,” said Touch, as he rose and peered into the -closet. “The old partition is only boarded up part way. There’s an -opening two feet wide at the top.” - -Closing the door, he returned to his seat and the game continued. To -the delight of Touch, luck favored him from the first, and it was not -long before his twenty became forty. - -“I know my hoodoo now,” he laughed; “it’s old Groucher. I always lose -with him in the game. We wanted a fifth man to play.” - -The door of the closet swung open, and old Joe Crowfoot stepped softly -into the room. - -“You like-um ’nother man to play?” he asked eagerly. “Shangowah, he -play poke’ sometime. He sit in now. He take little hand.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK. - - -They started up in astonishment. - -“Mercy!” murmured Gentle Willie. - -“Great Scott!” gasped South-paw. - -“Thunder!” rasped Buzzsaw. - -“Wow!” barked Clinker. - -“Whoop!” cried old Joe Crowfoot. - -“How in blazes did he get into this room?” snarled Stover. - -“Heap easy,” declared the aged Indian sweetly. “Nice big hole in top -of little room. Old Joe climb up on shelves, wiggle through hole, come -right in. How, how. Much glad. You got ’nother seat, he take-um hand in -little game.” - -“The nerve of it!” exploded Warwhoop. - -“Kick him out!” roared Clinker. “Open the door, Willie. We’ll drop him -out on his neck.” - -But when Clinker and Stover took a step toward the old Indian, the -latter silently produced a long, wicked-looking knife. - -“Try to kick-um old Joe, he make nice mince meat of you,” said Crowfoot. - -They stopped. - -“The old buck is drunk,” said South-paw. - -Shangowah’s beady eyes twinkled. - -“Come to meet grandson, young Joe,” he said, in an explanatory manner. -“Meet other friends. Heap glad. Celebrate some. Old Joe so old he no -have time to celebrate much more, so he whoop it up now. ’Scuse-um me.” - -The knife disappeared, and its place in Crowfoot’s hand was taken by -a large, flat bottle containing a brownish amber liquor. Removing the -cork, the redskin tipped the bottle and permitted two or three swallows -to slide gurglingly down his throat. - -“Oh, murder!” muttered Warwhoop. “It’s whisky. I smell it.” - -“Mebbe you have little drink?” invited Crowfoot cordially, as he -extended the bottle. - -But Stover seized Clinker by the shoulder. - -“Don’t you touch the stuff, Warwhoop,” he warned. “You know what it -will do to you. We’ve got to play to-morrow.” - -“Got to play a bunch of college kids,” said Clinker. “We could beat -them if every man on the team was jagged.” - -“You no take little drink?” asked Crowfoot. “Then old Joe he have to -drink-um it all. Grandson, Wind-that-roars-in-the-night, he think old -Joe jigged up now. He lock old Joe in room so he get no more joy juice. -Waugh! Shangowah have bottle hid under blanket. Grandson no know it.” - -“He’s a sly old duck,” grinned Gentle Willie. “Really he’s a most -amusing specimen.” - -“But he’s interfering with the game,” complained Clinker. - -“No interfere,” said Crowfoot. “Play some--take hand.” - -“You don’t know anything about draw poker,” said South-paw. - -“Not much,” agreed the Indian. “Mebbe play little bit.” - -“Why, you haven’t got any money,” sneered Buzzsaw. - -“Guess some more,” invited the ancient chief, as he promptly dug up a -fistful of clinking coins. “Got heap much cash. Make heap good haul on -prize fight in Reno.” - -Gentle Willie laughed aloud. - -“Well, now, what do you know about that! Here’s an Injun loaded down -with real money.” - -The deportment of the four Outlaws underwent a sudden change. - -“Really,” said Buzzsaw, “he looks like a nice, decent old brave. -Perhaps we’d better let him into the game.” - -The others agreed to this, and, a chair being placed, old Joe advanced -unsteadily and seated himself between Stover and Pope. - -“The limit is fifty cents, chief,” explained South-paw. - -“Let’s make it a dollar,” urged Gentle Willie, success having given him -confidence. “What do you say, Mr. Lo?” - -“Make-um it anything,” grunted old Joe. “No limit suit me.” - -“Well, he is a sport!” chuckled Clinker. “Tell you what, we’ll call it -a dollar limit and all Jack pots. Understand that, Tecumseh?” - -“Lemme see. Mebbe so,” answered old Joe. “You make little explanation.” - -“It will be like taking candy from the baby,” whispered Clinker in -Gentle Willie’s ear; while Buzzsaw explained to the Indian, who -listened in a dull, half-comprehending way. - -But when the game was resumed old Joe seemed to catch onto the run of -it in a manner which surprised the others. - -“No play much,” said the redskin. “Most forget how.” - -He was permitted to win one or two small pots, which seemed so to elate -him that he took another long pull at the bottle. His tongue grew -thick and his eyes seemed to be glazy. At intervals he insisted on -singing, and always the tune was a doleful dirge. - - “I’ve traveled about heap much in my time, - Of troubles I’ve sure seen a few; - I find it heap better in every clime - To paddle my own canoe.” - -“You’re certainly a musical cuss,” said Clinker; “but music and draw -poker don’t go well together. Cut it out.” - -“My cut?” grunted old Joe, reaching for the cards. “You no like-um -music, hey? Shangowah he no sing much; he too old. He got rheumatiz in -his voice. What you do ’round here?” - -“We came here to play baseball,” explained Gentle Willie. “Know what -that is?” - -Crowfoot scratched his head. - -“Mebbe so,” he mumbled. “Old Joe see game once. See men throw balls -like bullet at ’nother man. ’Nother man hit it with big stick. Then -everybody run, crowd yell, one who hit ball make quick foot race round -in circle back to place where he start. There he scoot-um head first -on ground. Somebody throw ball to feller who grab it and hit-um man -on ground ’tween shoulders. Everybody yell: ‘Kill umpire.’ Old Joe he -get out knife and start to do it. Next thing everybody jump on old -Joe, kick him stiff. What make-um holler ‘kill umpire’ if no want him -killed?” - -“Haw! haw! haw!” roared Buzzsaw. “You certainly was going to be -obliging.” - -“No understand it,” sighed Crowfoot sadly. “Take-um knife from old -Joe, kick-um him, put-um bracelets on him, yank him to lockup. Next -day judge fine-um him twenty-five dol’ and costs--say ’cause he break -peace. He no break anything. He all broke up himself.” - -“Well, just come out to the game to-morrow,” urged Stover, “and you’ll -see us eat a lot of kids up.” - -“Eat um--eat um kids?” - -“I mean the fellers on the opposite team.” - -“You eat um?” repeated Crowfoot in a puzzled way. “You like-um baseball -players to eat?” - -“He’s speaking figuratively, Powhatan,” exclaimed Gentle Willie. “He -means that we’ll beat the everlasting stuffing out of them. We can beat -anything that plays the game, and a chesty, conceited youngster by the -name of Dick Merriwell had the nerve to challenge us to play. What do -you think of that!” - -“Heap much nerve,” nodded Crowfoot, swaying slightly on his chair. “Old -Joe come. He have great fun to watch you beat-um young fool Merriwell. -Mebbe you no beat.” - -“It will be a cinch,” said South-paw. “I’m going to pitch.” - -“You no got swelled head nor anything?” mumbled Crowfoot. - -“Keep your eye on me,” advised Buzzsaw. “I’ve got it in for that feller -Merriwell. He hit me when I wasn’t looking, and I’ll hand him his pay -if he ever gets round to third base. That’s my position.” - -“What you do to him?” - -“Spike him if I get a chance. Watch me. See him come up to third, and -watch me if I get the ball. Will I tag him with it? Will I? I’ll bang -it onto his muzzle and send him to the dentist’s for new teeth.” - -“You got heap bad grudge,” said Crowfoot. “Much fun to see you knock-um -teeth out of Merriwell feller. Old Joe he laugh when he see it. It give -him big fun.” - -“Let’s play poker and cut out the talk,” urged Clinker. - -Crowfoot took another drink, and the game continued, with the old -savage nodding and blinking over his cards. Apparently he was half -doped by the liquor; yet, strange to say, try as they might, they could -not seem to win a great deal of his money. He had most astonishing -luck. Repeatedly Stover, who could manipulate the cards, put up a hand -to win, only to have Crowfoot drop out or show down a better hand. -Gradually the third baseman of the Outlaws grew ugly and resentful. - -“Rotten luck!” he growled. - -“Ugh!” grunted Crowfoot. “Good luck for Shangowah.” - -“The old sinner is a shark at the game,” muttered Warwhoop. - -“Sharks should be harpooned,” said South-paw under his breath. - -They arranged it without spoken words to sink the harpoon into old Joe. -Under cover Buzzsaw showed Warwhoop three aces in his hand, and Clinker -passed him the fourth. - -Then old Joe dropped out, although he had already pushed eight dollars -into the pot. Gathering up the Indian’s cards, Pope managed to get a -look at them and gasped with amazement; for Crowfoot had put down three -queens and a pair of ten spots. Thenceforth for a time South-paw felt -certain it was sheer blundering luck which prevented the uninvited -guest from losing his last dollar. - -Once, as Crowfoot seemed dozing, Stover attempted deftly to purloin a -stack of coins from the Indian’s pile. Joe lurched forward and put out -his hand as if to save himself; his fingers closed on Buzzsaw’s wrist, -and he woke up. - -“Hello!” he muttered. “What you do? You make-um little mistake. You -think mebbe my dough belong to you.” - -“I was just pushing it back from the edge of the table, so that you -wouldn’t knock it all over the floor,” said Buzzsaw sourly. - -“Heap much oblige,” said Crowfoot. “Shangowah do as much for you -sometime, mebbe.” - -Gradually they began to wonder and suspect. Finally there came a heavy -pot, in which, at the start, every one lingered. Gentle Willie and -Warwhoop were finally driven out; but, with Crowfoot between them, -Buzzsaw and South-paw continued to raise. Again Stover had made up a -hand, and this time, having discarded an ace, he felt confident that -his four kings must win. At last it seemed that the old redskin had -been lured into a trap. - -When the show-down came Pope dropped his hand, and Stover triumphantly -displayed the four kings. - -“Pretty good,” mumbled old Joe. “How you like-um these?” - -He lay down four aces! - -“Crooked work!” snarled Stover fiercely. “I discarded an ace myself.” - -“Oh, you make little mistake,” protested old Joe. “You no have ace.” - -“Wait! Don’t you touch that pot!” cried Buzzsaw, as he grabbed the -discards and turned them. “Look--look at this! Here’s the ace I -discarded.” - -He picked the ace of diamonds out of the discards. - -“Ugh!” gurgled old Joe. “Heap funny. Lemme see. Lemme look at back of -that card.” - -Stover turned it over. - -“Waugh!” exploded Shangowah, pointing a soiled finger at the -pasteboard. “That no belong in pack. Back of that card not like others.” - -It was true, and before their eyes Crowfoot turned his own cards, -revealing that they belonged to the pack with which they were playing. - -“You try to soak-um me,” he sneered. “You slip ’nother card in pack so -you can make bluff old Joe cheat.” - -Stover was staggered for a moment, but, as Crowfoot reached out to -gather in the pot, Buzzsaw uttered a yell and sprang from his chair, -seizing the redskin. On the other side South-paw Pope did the same, and -Clinker, upsetting his own chair, came quickly to their assistance. - -Crowfoot had started to rise. As he did this a pack of cards slipped -out of his clothes somewhere and fluttered over the floor. Gentle -Willie grabbed up several of them and looked at the backs. - -“What do you think!” he cried. “These cards are like the odd one in the -pack we’ve been using! The Injun substituted that odd card!” - -“Kill him!” raged Buzzsaw. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -SHANGOWAH’S BACKERS. - - -When young Joe and Dick arrived at the room of the Indians in the -Sunset House they were astonished to find it empty. The door had -remained locked, but old Joe Crowfoot was not to be found in that room. -Young Joe even looked beneath the bed in search of him. - -“He’s gone,” said Dick. “He’s not here.” - -“But how could he get out?” muttered the young Indian, puzzled and -dismayed. “I had the key, and the door was locked, as you saw.” - -Merriwell thrust his head out of the window and looked down to the -ground. The room was a second-story one. - -“Perhaps he jumped.” - -“No,” said young Joe positively, “he didn’t do that.” - -“I’m not so sure of it. I’ve seen the time when he would think nothing -of dropping out of a window this distance from the ground.” - -“That time is past. Really, Dick, my grandfather is getting old and -feeble. He’s not the man he was. I’ve seen a great change in him. I -doubt if he could jump from this window to the ground without injuring -himself.” - -“Old as he is,” returned Dick, “I’ll guarantee, if put to it, or pitted -against a desperate enemy, he would astonish some people. I’ve seen him -before when he seemed nearly all in, and I’ve likewise seen him ‘come -back.’” - -Dick opened the closet door and peered into it. Suddenly he lifted his -hand, with his ear bent toward the closet. - -Young Joe stepped swiftly and noiselessly to the Yale man’s side. - -A faint smile crept over Dick Merriwell’s face. - -“We’ve located Shangowah,” he said, in a low tone, as the sound of -voices came to their ears. “He’s in the adjoining room, and, so help -me! I believe he’s playing poker with a bunch in there.” - -Mingled with the murmur of voices they heard the clinking of money and -shuffling of cards. - -“You’re right,” whispered young Joe. “But how did he get in there?” - -Even as he asked that question his eyes answered it, for he discovered -the opening high up at the back of the closet, and he knew the old -Indian had mounted the shelves, squirmed through that opening and -entered the next room in a decidedly unusual manner. - -“He will play poker and he will drink,” muttered young Joe. “He says -he’s too old to abandon such habits, though he’s rather proud because -his grandson has listened to the counsel of Injun Heart and never -become a confirmed victim of such practices. - -“It’s ten to one.” Joe went on, as he closed the closet door, “that -he’s fallen in with a bunch of sharks, and he’s in poor condition to -take care of himself.” - -“If that is true,” laughed Dick, “it will be something unusual; for, -sober or otherwise, I’ve never yet seen Shangowah in such a condition -that he could not look after number one. However, I think it will be -well enough to get in there if we can and pry him away from that bunch.” - -As they reached the door of the other room the sound of loud, angry, -and excited voices came to their ears, Merriwell’s hand fell on the -doorknob, but the door was locked. - -“Kill him!” shouted a voice within the room. - -Dick stepped back two strides, then he flung himself forward, and his -shoulder crashed against the door, which flew open, the lock broken. - -Into that room leaped the two youths red and white. In a twinkling they -had seized old Crowfoot’s assailants and sent them reeling right and -left. The aged Indian was torn free from the hostile hands that had -clutched him. - -“Ugh!” he grunted stoically. “Heap much obliged.” - -“What’s the row in here?” demanded Dick Merriwell. - -Buzzsaw Stover gathered himself up from the corner into which he had -spun from the hand of Merriwell. - -“We caught that dirty old wolf cheating!” he howled hoarsely. “He -substituted a card from a pack of his own.” - -“Ugh!” grunted old Joe once more. “You cheat. You put up one, two, -three, and some more little job on old Crowfoot. You think he not see? -You think he no have eyes? He see you monkey with pasteboards. He see -other man pass you card under table. He see you try to swipe stack of -money from him. Cheat? You biggest blame thief on two legs!” - -“It’s a lie!” panted Stover. “I’ll choke the breath out of the old -robber! Come on, fellows! Going to let these two kids come in here and -bluff us?” - -His companions answered with vicious cries, and, following his example, -proceeded to attack the intruders. - -During the next few moments there were lively times in that room. -If those Outlaws fancied that by superior strength and overwhelming -numbers they were going to have a snap with their opponents, they -fooled themselves to the limit. Young Joe Crowfoot could use his -fists with all the skill of a finished boxer; and, side by side with -Merriwell, he took care of his share of the assailants. Gentle Willie -Touch got a punch in the wind that promptly put him hors de combat, and -Warwhoop Clinker was given a thump on the bugle that nearly drove his -proboscis back into his face. - -Meanwhile, South-paw Pope had “got his” from Dick, and once more -Merriwell reached for Buzzsaw’s jaw and found it. Stover dropped into -the same corner from which he had lately emerged and sat very limp and -dazed, prevented from keeling over by the angle of the partitions. - -While this was taking place old Joe Crowfoot calmly proceeded to rake -his own money off the table and take possession of the big jack pot -which had brought about the clash. The money piled in front of the -chairs at which the Indian’s associates in the game had sat was left -untouched. - -“Now we puckachee,” said old Joe; “we vamoose. We make a sneak.” - -He wabbled a bit as he passed through the open door. Dick and young Joe -followed him, leaving the Outlaws to recover. - -“Oh! oh!” gasped Gentle Willie. “I’ll never draw a full breath again.” - -“My nose!” groaned Clinker, whose face was an unpleasant, gory -spectacle. - -Pope made his complaint, but for the time being Stover had nothing to -say. - -Having recovered a short time later, however, Buzzsaw raged like a -lunatic. - -“There’ll be murder in this town!” he snarled. “I’ll have that feller -Merriwell’s hide before another day is over.” - -“Are we going to let that old Injun get away with the money?” asked -Pope. - -“No!” was the furious answer. “We’ll take it away from him. Come on, -let’s find him.” - -But they looked for Shangowah in vain. When they finally inquired at -the desk they were informed that old Crowfoot and young Joe had settled -and left the hotel for good. No one knew where they had gone. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -BATTED OUT. - - -To the satisfaction of Bob Harrison, an astonishingly large crowd of -people turned out to watch that baseball game. The manager of the -Outlaws realized it was doubtful if a bigger attendance would have -appeared had Manager Loring stood by his agreement to put the regular -Springs’ team onto the field. Harrison could not appreciate the fact -that a host of tourists in town knew about the college men who were -to play, and had a keen desire to see what they could do against the -dreaded Outlaws. He imagined the crowd had been drawn out solely on -account of the reputation of his star team. - -Mr. Archie Ling was one of the spectators, and for a time he sought in -vain some one who had the courage to bet on the collegians. - -“Really,” said Mr. Ling disappointedly, “I’ve heard some people say -they thought the youngsters had a chance in this game, but ’pon my word -I can’t find anybody who cares to back them. I’d like a little wager, -you understand. That would make it interesting.” - -Some one touched him on the shoulder, and, looking round, to his -disgust he discovered, an arm’s length away, the same old Indian who -had offended him by appearing on the veranda of the hotel the previous -evening. - -“Ugh!” grunted old Crowfoot. “You make little bet? How much you bet on -Outlaw men?” - -“Go away,” said Ling, fanning old Joe off and turning up his dainty -nose. - -“You make bet talk,” persisted old Joe. “You shoot-um off your mouth. -How much you bet?” - -“Why, you haven’t any money.” - -“How much you bet?” repeated the old redskin. “You bet five hundred -plunk, old Joe he cover it.” - -“Five--five hundred plunks!” gurgled Ling. “Why, you never saw so -much money in your life. I doubt if you have five cents in your dirty -clothes.” - -Then Crowfoot dug up a huge leather sack, which clinked significantly -and seemed to be stuffed to overflowing. Pulling the strings of this -pouch, the redskin showed that it was filled with gold and silver coins. - -“How much you bet?” he again demanded. - -“Why--why,” spluttered Ling, aghast, “where did you get it?” - -“None your blame business,” was the answer. “You go five hundred dol’ -on Outlaw men?” - -“Five hundred dollars! Why, no, indeed!” - -“How much you bet?” again came the question; “one hundred dol’?” - -“No, indeed! I--I’d like to make a little wager just to--just to have -it interesting. I’ll bet--oh--er--about five dollars.” - -With a grunt of unspeakable disgust, Crowfoot yanked at the bag -strings, closing the sack, which he again stowed away upon his person. - -“Five dol’!” he sneered. “You big piker. You tin horn bluffer. You make -heap much loud chin. Old Joe no waste time to bet little candy money -with dude.” - -Mr. Ling hastily retreated, his face crimson, his ears offended by the -loud laughter of the spectators. - -The practice of the Outlaws was of that accurate, easy, professional -order which marks the work of big teams. The youngsters likewise -practiced well, but they lacked the cool atmosphere of indifference and -certainty which characterized the professionals. - -A man known to be a fair and impartial umpire had been secured. -Confident of an all too easy victory, the Outlaws permitted the captain -of the opposing team to name this official, and Dick took the man he -was advised to take by Loring. - -The toss of a coin gave the Outlaws the choice, and they took the -field. The umpire called “play,” and the game began with South-paw Pope -on the slab. - -“Eat ’em alive!” roared Stover. - -“Mow ’em down!” shouted Nutty McLoon. - -“Be gentle with them!” pleaded Willie Touch. - -“Wow! wow!” barked Warwhoop Clinker. “It will be an awful massacre.” - -“We’ve never had such a snap as this,” laughed Smiling Joe Brinkley. - -Now possibly four out of five of the spectators fully expected to -witness a one-sided game, with the Outlaws making a runaway from the -very start; and when Stover mowed down Arlington and Blessed Jones at -the pan, neither of those batters even touching the ball, it seemed -such a sure thing that some sporting individuals were willing to wager -that the youngsters would not score at all. - -Moving about, old Joe Crowfoot picked up bets here and there. With one -man he bet one hundred even that the collegians would get half as many -runs as the Outlaws; with another he wagered that Merriwell’s pick-ups -would make as many hits as their opponents; in fact, they found him -ready, as long as his money lasted, to lay almost any sort of a bet on -the youthful antagonists of the professionals. - -It created universal surprise when young Joe Crowfoot got a clean -single off Pope. Following this, however, Buckhart popped to the -infield, and the collegians left the bench. - -“Start right in on the kid, Clinker,” urged Stover savagely. “Let’s -give him a drop to start with. Let’s take the conceit out of him. Wait -till I face him!” - -Clinker tried to start things going, but he hit a ball on the upper -side of his bat and popped it high into the air for Duncan Ross, who -was covering first base. - -“Rotten!” complained Warwhoop, seating himself disgustedly on the bench. - -Kennedy banged a hot one against the shins of Tucker at short, and -Tommy fumbled long enough for Grouch to canter easily over first. - -“We’re off! We’re going!” roared Buzzsaw. - -Tucker was saying a few uncomplimentary things to himself, but Dick -Merriwell did not seem greatly disturbed. - -Long Tom Hix bumped a Texas leaguer over the infield, and Kennedy, on -the jump, crossed second, keeping on toward third. - -Joe Crowfoot, coming in fast from center field, took the ball in the -bound and whipped it like a whistling bullet to Jimmy Lozier at third. - -The coacher yelled a warning at Kennedy, who suddenly realized that -he could not make the sack. A moment later the crowd was filled with -excitement, as the youngsters trapped Kennedy on the base line and -attempted to run him down. - -Again Tommy Tucker made a mess of it. He it was who fumbled a throw and -gave Kennedy the chance to dash past him back to second base. - -“Oh, I’m pretty good, I am!” said Tommy. “I’m playing for the Outlaws -to-day. I’m afraid they won’t get a score, and I’m doing my best to -help them along.” - -The Outlaws scoffed and sneered at the youngsters. - -His eyes gleaming viciously, Buzzsaw Stover walked to the plate, bat in -hand. - -“Hand one over, you young snipe,” he rasped at Dick, “and I’ll hit it a -mile!” - -He missed the first ball cleanly, with Merriwell smiling at him in an -exasperating manner. The next one was wide, but, immediately following, -Buzzsaw struck again. - -Bat and ball met with a crack, and the sphere, shooting at Tommy -Tucker, touched the ground once. The little chap took that hot one -cleanly. Like a flash of light he snapped the ball to third for a -force-out, and Lozier, making a beautiful throw, hummed it down to -second for a double. - -The spectators rose and shouted, while the Outlaws stared in -wonderment. Stover could not find language to express his feelings. - -“That’s the way to redeem yourself, Thomas,” laughed Dick, as he jogged -toward the bench with Tucker at his side. - -“You little no-good runt!” gurgled Bigelow. “I’d like to hug you. A few -moments ago I had to hold myself hard to keep from rushing out there to -kick you.” - -“I was fooling ’em, Bouncer,” grinned Tommy. “They thought they could -all pound the horsehide through me.” - -It was Merriwell’s turn to hit. - -“Get busy with that conceited bottle of buttermilk, South-paw,” urged -Stover. “Show him up.” - -Pope grinned and gave Dick one on the outside corner. - -A moment later the crowd was yelling, as Nutty McLoon, far out in the -field, went wildly racing after the sphere. - -Over first and second and on toward third ran Dick. McLoon got the -ball and returned it in the diamond, causing Tommy Tucker, dancing -wildly on the coaching line, to make frantic gestures for Merriwell to -stop at the third sack. - -Fortunately, Dick had been warned by old Joe Crowfoot, and he had -his eye on Buzzsaw Stover. As he came up to the sack he saw Stover, -standing close by the bag, prepared for something. Then Buzzsaw did his -prettiest to jab his elbow into Dick’s wind for what might have been a -knockout. - -Stover never knew exactly what happened to him, but he found himself -spinning end over end, and Tucker was compelled to dodge to get out -of his way. He picked himself up off the turf, the most amazed man in -Colorado Springs. He was likewise infuriated, and started to rush at -Dick. When he saw Merriwell ready and waiting, however, he changed his -mind. - -“What in blazes do you mean?” he snarled. - -“You want to be careful with your elbows and your spikes to-day, Mr. -Stover,” said Dick. “Likewise, I’d advise you, if you have occasion to -tag me, not to attempt to knock out any of my teeth. I shall be looking -at you all the time.” - -Some of Stover’s companions were inclined to rush at Dick in a bullying -manner, but the crowd rose and made it plain that sympathy lay with the -youngster. - -“Here, here!” shouted Harrison from the bench. “Let up on that -business, boys! We won’t have to scrap to take this game in a walk.” - -They knew the old man meant it by his tone, and they likewise knew it -was policy to obey him. - -Lozier, who followed Dick, took a signal from the Yale man at third and -batted the ball into the diamond. - -Merriwell came home like a streak, sliding safely, in spite of the -effort to stop him from scoring. This attempt to get Dick at the plate -gave Lozier time to reach first. - -South-paw Pope was exasperated. He heard the crowd shout its delight -and distinguished in the midst of that tumult the sound of a wild, -shrill warwhoop that came from the lips of a well-satisfied old redskin -who had bet his last dollar on the college boys. - -Old Greg McGregor jogged into the batter’s box and let two wide ones -pass. Then he found one of Pope’s benders for a safety in right that -sent Lozier all the way to third. - -The Outlaws were amazed and possibly somewhat rattled. At any rate, -Dead-eye Jack Roony made a poor throw to second when McGregor attempted -to steal, and the runner was safe. - -Duncan Ross fouled out. - -“The little flurry is over, Pope,” cried Long Tom Hix. “We’ll take ’em -in order now. Let the two kids cool their heels on the sacks.” - -Tucker scarcely looked like a hitter as he stood at the plate twiddling -his bat. He looked even less so when he missed Pope’s first ball by a -foot. But a moment later he bumped an easy hit through the infield, and -both Lozier and McGregor raced home. - -“Oh, my, how easy!” whooped Tommy. “It’s pie! it’s pie! We’ll bat him -out of the box.” - -Chester Arlington had caught the fever. He followed with a stinging -two-sacker, which carried Tucker to the pan. - -The crowd was cheering and laughing; Bob Harrison was astounded and -furious. The exasperated manager roared at Pope threateningly, and -South-paw vowed to stop the “doings” right away. - -He vowed in vain. Jones hit safely, and Arlington scored. Then young -Joe emulated Arlington in hitting, and old Blessed added another tally. - -Manager Harrison had a fit. - -“Come in here, Pope!” he thundered. “You’re on the bum! Go out there -and stop this business, Brown!” - -The collegians had batted the great south-paw twirler off the slab! - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -THE FINISH. - - -Wopsy Bill Brown had better luck to start with. Buckhart hit the -ball hard, it is true, but the sailing sphere was gathered in by an -outfielder, and Crowfoot lodged on third. - -Dick likewise banged the horsehide far into the outfield, but again it -was caught, which retired the youngsters after they had made six runs. - -The Outlaws went to bat determined to change the aspect of affairs in a -hurry. Imagine their astonishment when Merriwell smilingly mowed down -three men in quick order. - -Up to the beginning of the seventh inning Wopsy Bill held the -collegians successfully, although twice the youngsters pushed a runner -round to third. The Outlaws fought savagely, trying in various ways to -frighten their opponents, but failing utterly. - -The seventh opened with Buckhart at bat, and he led off with a smash -that netted three sacks. - -Dick hit safely a moment later, scoring Brad. Lozier bunted and died at -first, while Dick took second. - -Old Greg McGregor showed his mettle by drawing a two-sacker that gave -the youngsters still another tally. Merriwell kept his eyes on Stover -as he crossed third, and Buzzsaw did not dare try any dirty tricks. - -When Duncan Ross followed with a hit, Bob Harrison went into the air -and yanked Wopsy off the plate. - -Strawberry Lane, the only remaining pitcher of the Outlaws, went in to -stem the tide. - -“Too late! too late!” came the cry from the crowd. “They’ve got the -game now.” - -Like Brown, Lane succeeded in checking the run getting for the time -being, striking out Tucker and forcing Arlington to lift an easy fly. - -In the last of the seventh the Outlaws obtained their one and only -tally. Stover struck out to begin with and retired to the bench, his -heart bitter with hatred for Dick Merriwell. - -McLoon, coming next, hit along the third-base line, and the ball -caromed off Lozier’s bare right hand. Nutty ran wild over first, and -Lozier, trying to get him at second, caught the ball up swiftly and -made a bad throw. - -Over third McLoon sped, and McGregor, who had tried to back up second, -completed the unfortunate series of errors by throwing wide to the -plate. - -“Now,” snarled Buzzsaw Stover, “let’s keep right at it and make a -hundred.” - -A few moments later, Merriwell had cut down Smiling Joe Brinkley and -Gentle Willie Touch, and Buzzsaw went to third sore as a flea-bitten -cur. - -In the eighth there came near being a riot when Stover tried to spike -Blessed Jones, who had reached third on a single, a sacrifice by -Crowfoot, and a steal. The umpire promptly informed the vicious third -sacker of the Outlaws that he would be put out of the game if he tried -any more such contemptible tricks. - -Jones scored on a safety by Buckhart. - -Dick hit one into centre field and was out. - -Lozier fanned a few seconds later. - -There was no further run getting on either side. In the eighth and -ninth innings Merriwell was invincible on the slab. Those amazed -Outlaws could do nothing whatever with his delivery, and the delighted -spectators simply shouted themselves hoarse. Never had Harrison’s stars -received such a drubbing, the final score being nine to one against -them. - -The college lads were congratulated on every hand. Old Joe Crowfoot -found young Joe and looked him over approvingly. - -“You make heap fair baseball player bimeby, mebbe,” said the old chief. -“You learn some, mebbe. Old Joe he clear up good thing to-day. He have -money ’nough to-night so you pay two year at Yale school. He reckon he -hand-um it over so he no lose it.” - -Bob Harrison shouldered his way through the crowd and reached Dick -Merriwell. - -“Look here,” he called; “look here, young fellow, you certainly was -loaded with horseshoes to-day. It was the biggest accident that ever -happened. Play us again. Play us to-morrow, and we won’t leave you in -the shape of anything. I’ll call off a date with Cheyenne in order to -play you.” - -“I’m very sorry, Mr. Harrison,” smiled Dick; “but it will be impossible -for us to give you another game. My pick-up team disbands to-night, as -business will make it necessary for several of the players to leave the -Springs to-morrow.” - -“Yah! You’re afraid!” cried Harrison. “You don’t dare play another -game.” - -“Go ’way back and set down,” grunted old Joe Crowfoot. “He beat-um you -any time you play. You have big team of stars? Waugh! No good!” - -Then several of the bystanders stepped between Harrison and the old -redskin to prevent the exasperated manager from laying violent hands on -Shangowah. - - * * * * * - -That evening Dick and June sat talking in low tones on the hotel -veranda. - -“Buckhart,” said Dick, “has an uncle on a ranch up North, and we’re -going up there. It was a great treat to meet you here, June.” - -“It was fine, Dick,” she returned. “Oh, it was just splendid to watch -the game to-day! It seemed like old times. We are leaving to-morrow.” - -“Going back home?” - -“Yes. Chester and I decided that we ought to go right away. I’m -sorry we can’t all stay here a little longer, for it has been very -pleasant--very pleasant----” - -His hand found hers and held it tightly. - -“It has been the pleasantest feature of my summer, June,” he declared. - -In the shadows he lifted her hand to his lips. - -“Till we meet again, June!” he whispered. - -“Till we meet again, Dick!” - - -THE END. - - -Don’t fail to ask for No: 190 of the MERRIWELL SERIES, entitled “Dick -Merriwell’s Intuition,” by Burt L. Standish. - - - - -_NOTE THE NEW TITLES LISTED_ - -Western Story Library - -For Everyone Who Likes Adventure - -Ted Strong and his band of broncho-busters have most exciting -adventures in this line of attractive big books, and furnish the reader -with an almost unlimited number of thrills. - -If you like a really good Western cowboy story, then this line is made -expressly for you. - -_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - - 1--Ted Strong, Cowboy By Edward C. Taylor - 2--Ted Strong Among the Cattlemen By Edward C. Taylor - 3--Ted Strong’s Black Mountain Ranch By Edward C. Taylor - 4--Ted Strong With Rifle and Lasso By Edward C. Taylor - 5--Ted Strong Lost in the Desert By Edward C. Taylor - 6--Ted Strong Fighting the Rustlers By Edward C. Taylor - 7--Ted Strong and the Rival Miners By Edward C. Taylor - 9--Ted Strong on a Mountain Trail By Edward C. Taylor - 10--Ted Strong Across the Prairie By Edward C. Taylor - 11--Ted Strong Out For Big Game By Edward C. Taylor - 12--Ted Strong, Challenged By Edward C. Taylor - 13--Ted Strong’s Close Call By Edward C. Taylor - 14--Ted Strong’s Passport By Edward C. Taylor - 15--Ted Strong’s Nebraska Ranch By Edward C. Taylor - 16--Ted Strong’s Cattle Drive By Edward C. Taylor - 17--Ted Strong’s Stampede By Edward C. Taylor - 18--Ted Strong’s Prairie Trail By Edward C. Taylor - 19--Ted Strong’s Surprise By Edward C. Taylor - 20--Ted Strong’s Wolf Hunters By Edward C. Taylor - 22--Ted Strong in Colorado By Edward C. Taylor - 25--Ted Strong’s Search By Edward C. Taylor - 26--Ted Strong’s Diamond Mine By Edward C. Taylor - 27--Ted Strong’s Manful Task By Edward C. Taylor - 28--Ted Strong, Manager By Edward C. Taylor - 30--Ted Strong’s Gold Mine By Edward C. Taylor - 32--Ted Strong’s Wild Horse By Edward C. Taylor - 34--Ted Strong’s Stowaway By Edward C. Taylor - 35--Ted Strong’s Prize Herd By Edward C. Taylor - 36--Ted Strong’s Trouble By Edward C. Taylor - 37--Ted Strong’s Mettle By Edward C. Taylor - 38--Ted Strong’s Big Business By Edward C. Taylor - 39--Ted Strong’s Treasure Cave By Edward C. Taylor - 40--Ted Strong’s Vanishing Island By Edward C. Taylor - 43--Ted Strong’s Contract By Edward C. Taylor - 44--Ted Strong’s Stolen Pinto By Edward C. Taylor - 45--Ted Strong’s Saddle Pard By Edward C. Taylor - 46--Ted Strong and the Sioux Players By Edward C. Taylor - 47--Ted Strong’s Bronchos By Edward C. Taylor - 48--Ted Strong’s Ranch War By Edward C. Taylor - 49--Ted Strong and the Cattle Raiders By Edward C. Taylor - 50--Ted Strong’s Great Round-up By Edward C. Taylor - 51--Ted Strong’s Big Horn Trail By Edward C. Taylor - 52--Ted Strong in Bandit Cañon By Edward C. Taylor - 53--Ted Strong at Z-Bar Ranch By Edward C. Taylor - 55--Ted Strong’s Border Battle By Edward C. Taylor - 56--Ted Strong on U. P. Duty By Edward C. Taylor - 57--Ted Strong’s Lariat Duel By Edward C. Taylor - 58--Ted Strong’s Vigilantes By Edward C. Taylor - 59--Ted Strong’s Mesa Foe By Edward C. Taylor - 60--Ted Strong Tries Prospecting By Edward C. Taylor - 61--Ted Strong’s Desert Round-up By Edward C. Taylor - 62--Ted Strong at Lost Gulch By Edward C. Taylor - 63--Ted Strong on an Outlaw’s Trail By Edward C. Taylor - 64--Ted Strong and the Two-Gun Men By Edward C. Taylor - 65--Ted Strong’s Rodeo Ride By Edward C. Taylor - 66--Ted Strong’s Ivory-Handled Gun By Edward C. Taylor - 67--Ted Strong’s Redskin Pal By Edward C. Taylor - 68--Ted Strong and the Sagebrush Kid By Edward C. Taylor - 69--Ted Strong’s Rustler Round-up By Edward C. Taylor - - - - -ROMANCE - -ADVENTURE - -MYSTERY - -All types of stories are represented in this catalogue. The S & S -novels are the world’s greatest entertainment at a price that truly -entitles them to be termed: - -THE RIGHT BOOKS AT THE RIGHT PRICE - - - - -NICK CARTER STORIES - -New Magnet Library - -_Not a Dull Book in This List_ - -ALL BY NICHOLAS CARTER - -Nick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact that -the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to the -work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced no -other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation of -new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly from -all sorts of troubles and landed the criminal just where he should -be--behind the bars. - -The author of these stories knew more about writing detective stories -than any other single person. - -Following is a list of the best Nick Carter stories. They have been -selected with extreme care, and we unhesitatingly recommend each of -them as being fully as interesting as any detective story between cloth -covers which sells at ten times the price. - -If you do not know Nick Carter, buy a copy of any of the New Magnet -Library books, and get acquainted. He will surprise and delight you. - -_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - - 850--Wanted: A Clew - 851--A Tangled Skein - 852--The Bullion Mystery - 853--The Man of Riddles - 854--A Miscarriage of Justice - 855--The Gloved Hand - 856--Spoilers and the Spoils - 857--The Deeper Game - 858--Bolts from Blue Skies - 859--Unseen Foes - 860--Knaves in High Places - 861--The Microbe of Crime - 862--In the Toils of Fear - 863--A Heritage of Trouble - 864--Called to Account - 865--The Just and the Unjust - 866--Instinct at Fault - 867--A Rogue Worth Trapping - 868--A Rope of Slender Threads - 869--The Last Call - 870--The Spoils of Chance - 871--A Struggle with Destiny - 872--The Slave of Crime - 873--The Crook’s Blind - 874--A Rascal of Quality - 875--With Shackles of Fire - 876--The Man Who Changed Faces - 877--The Fixed Alibi - 878--Out with the Tide - 879--The Soul Destroyers - 880--The Wages of Rascality - 881--Birds of Prey - 882--When Destruction Threatens - 883--The Keeper of Black Hounds - 884--The Door of Doubt - 885--The Wolf Within - 886--A Perilous Parole - 887--The Trail of the Finger Prints - 888--Dodging the Law - 889--A Crime in Paradise - 890--On the Ragged Edge - 891--The Red God of Tragedy - 892--The Man Who Paid - 893--The Blind Man’s Daughter - 894--One Object in Life - 895--As a Crook Sows - 896--In Record Time - 897--Held in Suspense - 898--The $100,000 Kiss - 899--Just One Slip - 900--On a Million-dollar Trail - 901--A Weird Treasure - 902--The Middle Link - 903--To the Ends of the Earth - 904--When Honors Pall - 905--The Yellow Brand - 906--A New Serpent in Eden - 907--When Brave Men Tremble - 908--A Test of Courage - 909--Where Peril Beckons - 910--The Gargoni Girdle - 911--Rascals & Co. - 912--Too Late to Talk - 913--Satan’s Apt Pupil - 914--The Girl Prisoner - 915--The Danger of Folly - 916--One Shipwreck Too Many - 917--Scourged by Fear - 918--The Red Plague - 919--Scoundrels Rampant - 920--From Clew to Clew - 921--When Rogues Conspire - 922--Twelve In a Grave - 923--The Great Opium Case - 924--A Conspiracy of Rumors - 925--A Klondike Claim - 926--The Evil Formula - 927--The Man of Many Faces - 928--The Great Enigma - 929--The Burden of Proof - 930--The Stolen Brain - 931--A Titled Counterfeiter - 932--The Magic Necklace - 933--’Round the World for a Quarter - 934--Over the Edge of the World - 935--In the Grip of Fate - 936--The Case of Many Clews - 937--The Sealed Door - 938--Nick Carter and the Green Goods Men - 939--The Man Without a Will - 940--Tracked Across the Atlantic - 941--A Clew from the Unknown - 942--The Crime of a Countess - 943--A Mixed-up Mess - 944--The Great Money-order Swindle - 945--The Adder’s Brood - 946--A Wall Street Haul - 947--For a Pawned Crown - 948--Scaled Orders - 949--The Hate that Kills - 950--The American Marquis - 951--The Needy Nine - 952--Fighting Against Millions - 953--Outlaws of the Blue - 954--The Old Detective’s Pupil - 955--Found in the Jungle - 956--The Mysterious Mail Robbery - 957--Broken Bars - 958--A Fair Criminal - 959--Won by Magic - 960--The Plano Box Mystery - 961--The Man They Held Back - 962--A Millionaire Partner - 963--A Pressing Peril - 964--An Australian Klondike - 965--The Sultan’s Pearls - 966--The Double Shuffle Club - 967--Paying the Price - 968--A Woman’s Hand - 969--A Network of Crime - 970--At Thompson’s Ranch - 971--The Crossed Needles - 972--The Diamond Mine Case - 973--Blood Will Tell - 974--An Accidental Password - 975--The Crook’s Double - 976--Two Plus Two - 977--The Yellow Label - 978--The Clever Celestial - 979--The Amphitheater Plot - 980--Gideon Drexel’s Millions - 981--Death in Life - 982--A Stolen Identity - 983--Evidence by Telephone - 984--The Twelve Tin Boxes - 985--Clew Against Clew - 986--Lady Velvet - 987--Playing a Bold Game - 988--A Dead Man’s Grip - 989--Snarled Identities - 990--A Deposit Vault Puzzle - 991--The Crescent Brotherhood - 992--The Stolen Pay Train - 993--The Sea Fox - 994--Wanted by Two Clients - 995--The Van Alstine Case - 996--Check No. 777 - 997--Partners in Peril - 998--Nick Carter’s Clever Protégé - 999--The Sign of the Crossed Knives - 1000--The Man Who Vanished - 1001--A Battle for the Right - 1002--A Game of Craft - 1003--Nick Carter’s Retainer - 1004--Caught in the Toils - 1005--A Broken Bond - 1006--The Crime of the French Café - 1007--The Man Who Stole Millions - 1008--The Twelve Wise Men - 1009--Hidden Foes - 1010--A Gamblers’ Syndicate - 1011--A Chance Discovery - 1012--Among the Counterfeiters - 1013--A Threefold Disappearance - 1014--At Odds with Scotland Yard - 1015--A Princess of Crime - 1016--Found on the Beach - 1017--A Spinner of Death - 1018--The Detective’s Pretty Neighbor - 1019--A Bogus Clew - 1020--The Puzzle of Five Pistols - 1021--The Secret of the Marble Mantel - 1022--A Bite of an Apple - 1023--A Triple Crime - 1024--The Stolen Race Horse - 1025--Wildfire - 1026--A _Herald_ Personal - 1027--The Finger of Suspicion - 1028--The Crimson Clew - 1029--Nick Carter Down East - 1030--The Chain of Clews - 1031--A Victim of Circumstances - 1032--Brought to Bay - 1033--The Dynamite Trap - 1034--A Scrap of Black Lace - 1035--The Woman of Evil - 1036--A Legacy of Hate - 1037--A Trusted Rogue - 1038--Man Against Man - 1039--The Demons of the Night - 1040--The Brotherhood of Death - 1041--At the Knife’s Point - 1042--A Cry for Help - 1043--A Stroke of Policy - 1044--Hounded to Death - 1045--A Bargain in Crime - 1046--The Fatal Prescription - 1047--The Man of Iron - 1048--An Amazing Scoundrel - 1049--The Chain of Evidence - 1050--Paid with Death - 1051--A Fight for a Throne - 1052--The Woman of Steel - 1053--The Seal of Death - 1054--The Human Fiend - 1055--A Desperate Chance - 1056--A Chase in the Dark - 1057--The Snare and the Game - 1058--The Murray Hill Mystery - 1059--Nick Carter’s Close Call - 1060--The Missing Cotton King - 1061--A Game of Plots - 1062--The Prince of Liars - 1063--The Man at the Window - 1064--The Red League - 1065--The Price of a Secret - 1066--The Worst Case on Record - 1067--From Peril to Peril - 1068--The Seal of Silence - 1069--Nick Carter’s Chinese Puzzle - 1070--A Blackmailer’s Bluff - 1071--Heard in the Dark - 1072--A Checkmated Scoundrel - 1073--The Cashier’s Secret - 1074--Behind a Mask - 1075--The Cloak of Guilt - 1076--Two Villains in One - 1077--The Hot Air Clew - 1078--Run to Earth - 1079--The Certified Check - 1080--Weaving the Web - 1081--Beyond Pursuit - 1082--The Claws of the Tiger - 1083--Driven from Cover - 1084--A Deal in Diamonds - 1085--The Wizard of the Cue - 1086--A Race for Ten Thousand - 1087--The Criminal Link - 1088--The Red Signal - 1089--The Secret Panel - 1090--A Bonded Villain - 1091--A Move in the Dark - 1092--Against Desperate Odds - 1093--The Telltale Photographs - 1094--The Ruby Pin - 1095--The Queen of Diamonds - 1096--A Broken Trail - 1097--An Ingenious Stratagem - 1098--A Sharper’s Downfall - 1099--A Race Track Gamble - 1100--Without a Clew - 1101--The Council of Death - 1102--The Hole in the Vault - 1103--In Death’s Grip - 1104--A Great Conspiracy - 1105--The Guilty Governor - 1106--A Ring of Rascals - 1107--A Masterpiece of Crime - 1108--A Blow for Vengeance - 1109--Tangled Threads - 1110--The Crime of the Camera - 1111--The Sign of the Dagger - 1112--Nick Carter’s Promise - 1113--Marked for Death - 1114--The Limited Holdup - 1115--When the Trap Was Sprung - 1116--Through the Cellar Wall - 1117--Under the Tiger’s Claws - 1118--The Girl in the Case - 1119--Behind a Throne - 1120--The Lure of Gold - 1121--Hand to Hand - 1122--From a Prison Cell - 1123--Dr. Quartz, Magician - 1124--Into Nick Carter’s Web - 1125--The Mystic Diagram - 1126--The Hand that Won - 1127--Playing a Lone Hand - 1128--The Master Villain - 1129--The False Claimant - 1130--The Living Mask - 1131--The Crime and the Motive - 1132--A Mysterious Foe - 1133--A Missing Man - 1134--A Game Well Played - 1135--A Cigarette Clew - 1136--The Diamond Trail - 1137--The Silent Guardian - 1138--The Dead Stranger - 1140--The Doctor’s Stratagem - 1141--Following a Chance Clew - 1142--The Bank Draft Puzzle - 1143--The Price of Treachery - 1144--The Silent Partner - 1145--Ahead of the Game - 1146--A Trap of Tangled Wire - 1147--In the Gloom of Night - 1148--The Unaccountable Crook - 1149--A Bundle of Clews - 1150--The Great Diamond Syndicate - 1151--The Death Circle - 1152--The Toss of a Penny - 1153--One Step Too Far - 1154--The Terrible Thirteen - 1155--A Detective’s Theory - 1156--Nick Carter’s Auto Trail - 1157--A Triple Identity - 1158--A Mysterious Graft - 1159--A Carnival of Crime - 1160--The Bloodstone Terror - 1161--Trapped in His Own Net - 1162--The Last Move in the Game - 1163--A Victim of Deceit - 1164--With Links of Steel - 1165--A Plaything of Fate - 1166--The Key Ring Clew - 1167--Playing for a Fortune - 1168--At Mystery’s Threshold - 1169--Trapped by a Woman - 1170--The Four Fingered Glove - 1171--Nabob and Knave - 1172--The Broadway Cross - 1173--The Man Without a Conscience - 1174--A Master of Deviltry - 1175--Nick Carter’s Double Catch - 1176--Doctor Quartz’s Quick Move - 1177--The Vial of Death - 1178--Nick Carter’s Star Pupils - 1179--Nick Carter’s Girl Detective - 1180--A Baffled Oath - 1181--A Royal Thief - 1182--Down and Out - 1183--A Syndicate of Rascals - 1184--Played to a Finish - 1185--A Tangled Case - 1186--In Letters of Fire - 1187--Crossed Wires - 1188--A Plot Uncovered - 1189--The Cab Driver’s Secret - 1190--Nick Carter’s Death Warrant - 1191--The Plot that Failed - 1192--Nick Carter’s Masterpiece - 1193--A Prince of Rogues - 1194--In the Lap of Danger - 1195--The Man from London - 1196--Circumstantial Evidence - 1197--The Pretty Stenographer Mystery - 1198--A Villainous Scheme - 1199--A Plot Within a Plot - 1200--The Elevated Railroad Mystery - 1201--The Blow of a Hammer - 1202--The Twin Mystery - 1203--The Bottle with the Black Label - 1204--Under False Colors - 1205--A Ring of Dust - 1206--The Crown Diamond - 1207--The Blood-red Badge - 1208--The Barrel Mystery - 1209--The Photographer’s Evidence - 1210--Millions at Stake - 1211--The Man and His Price - 1212--A Double-Handed Game - 1213--A Strike for Freedom - 1214--A Disciple of Satan - 1215--The Marked Hand - 1216--A Fight with a Fiend - 1217--When the Wicked Prosper - 1218--A Plunge into Crime - 1219--An Artful Schemer - 1220--Reaping the Whirlwind - 1221--Out of Crime’s Depths - 1222--A Woman at Bay - 1223--The Temple of Vice - 1224--Death at the Feast - 1225--A Double Plot - -In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the -books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New -York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance -promptly, on account of delays in transportation. - - To be published in January, 1928. - 1226--In Search of Himself - 1227--A Hunter of Men - - To be published in February, 1928. - 1228--The Boulevard Mutes - 1229--Captain Sparkle, Pirate - 1230--Nick Carter’s Fall - - To be published in March, 1928. - 1231--Out of Death’s Shadow - 1232--A Voice from the Past - - To be published in April, 1928. - 1233--Accident or Murder? - 1234--The Man Who Was Cursed - - To be published in May, 1928. - 1235--Baffled, But Not Beaten - 1236--A Case Without a Clew - - To be published in June, 1928. - 1237--The Demon’s Eye - 1238--A Blindfold Mystery - - - - -BOOKS THAT NEVER GROW OLD - -Alger Series - -Clean Adventure Stories for Boys - -The Most Complete List Published - -The following list does not contain all the books that Horatio Alger -wrote, but it contains most of them, and certainly the best. - -Horatio Alger is to boys what Charles Dickens is to grown-ups. His -work is just as popular to-day as it was years ago. The books have a -quality, the value of which is beyond computation. - -There are legions of boys of foreign parents who are being helped -along the road to true Americanism by reading these books which -are so peculiarly American in tone that the reader cannot fail to -absorb some of the spirit of fair play and clean living which is so -characteristically American. - -In this list will be included certain books by Edward Stratemeyer, -Oliver Optic, and other authors who wrote the Alger type of stories, -which are equal in interest and wholesomeness with those written by the -famous author after which this great line of books for boys is named. - -_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - -By HORATIO ALGER, Jr. - - 12--Chester Rand - 13--Grit, the Young Boatman of Pine Point - 14--Joe’s Luck - 15--From Farm Boy to Senator - 16--The Young Outlaw - 17--Jack’s Ward - 18--Dean Dunham - 19--In a New World - 20--Both Sides of the Continent - 22--Brave and Bold - 24--Bob Burton - 26--Julius, the Street Boy - 28--Tom Brace - 29--Struggling Upward - 31--Tom Tracy - 32--The Young Acrobat - 33--Bound to Rise - 34--Hector’s Inheritance - 35--Do and Dare - 36--The Tin Box - 37--Tom, the Bootblack - 38--Risen from the Ranks - 39--Shifting for Himself - 40--Wait and Hope - 41--Sam’s Chance - 42--Striving for Fortune - 43--Phil, the Fiddler - 44--Slow and Sure - 45--Walter Sherwood’s Probation - 47--The Young Salesman - 48--Andy Grant’s Pluck - 49--Facing the World - 50--Luke Walton - 51--Strive and Succeed - 52--From Canal Boy to President - 53--The Erie Train Boy - 54--Paul, the Peddler - 55--The Young Miner - 56--Charlie Codman’s Cruise - 57--A Debt of Honor - 58--The Young Explorer - 59--Ben’s Nugget - 62--Frank Hunter’s Peril - 64--Tom Thatcher’s Fortune - 65--Tom Turner’s Legacy - 66--Dan, the Newsboy - 67--Digging for Gold - 69--In Search of Treasure - 70--Frank’s Campaign - 71--Bernard Brook’s Adventures - 73--Paul Prescott’s Charge - 74--Mark Manning’s Mission - 76--Sink or Swim - 77--The Backwoods Boy - 78--Tom Temple’s Career - 79--Ben Bruce - 80--The Young Musician - 81--The Telegraph Boy - 82--Work and Win - 84--The Cash Boy - 85--Herbert Carter’s Legacy - 86--Strong and Steady - 87--Lost at Sea - 89--Young Captain Jack - 90--Joe, the Hotel Boy - 91--Out for Business - 92--Falling in with Fortune - 93--Nelson, the Newsboy - 94--Randy of the River - 96--Ben Logan’s Triumph - 97--The Young Book Agent - 168--Luck and Pluck - 169--Ragged Dick - 170--Fame and Fortune - 171--Mark, the Match Boy - 172--Rough and Ready - 173--Ben, the Luggage Boy - 174--Rufus and Rose - - By EDWARD STRATEMEYER - - 98--The Last Cruise of _The Spitfire_ - 99--Reuben Stone’s Discovery - 100--True to Himself - 101--Richard Dare’s Venture - 102--Oliver Bright’s Search - 103--To Alaska for Gold - 104--The Young Auctioneer - 105--Bound to Be an Electrician - 106--Shorthand Tom - 108--Joe, the Surveyor - 109--Larry, the Wanderer - 110--The Young Ranchman - 111--The Young Lumberman - 112--The Young Explorers - 113--Boys of the Wilderness - 114--Boys of the Great Northwest - 115--Boys of the Gold Field - 116--For His Country - 117--Comrades in Peril - 118--The Young Pearl Hunters - 119--The Young Bandmaster - 121--On Fortune’s Trail - 122--Lost in the Land of Ice - 123--Bob, the Photographer - - By OLIVER OPTIC - - 124--Among the Missing - 125--His Own Helper - 126--Honest Kit Dunstable - 127--Every Inch a Boy - 128--The Young Pilot - 129--Always in Luck - 130--Rich and Humble - 131--In School and Out - 133--Work and Win - 135--Haste and Waste - 136--Royal Tarr’s Pluck - 137--The Prisoners of the Cave - 138--Louis Chiswick’s Mission - 139--The Professor’s Son - 140--The Young Hermit - 141--The Cruise of _The Dandy_ - 142--Building Himself Up - 143--Lyon Hart’s Heroism - 144--Three Young Silver Kings - 145--Making a Man of Himself - 146--Striving for His Own - 147--Through by Daylight - 148--Lightning Express - 149--On Time - 150--Switch Off - 151--Brake Up - 152--Bear and Forbear - 153--The “Starry Flag” - 154--Breaking Away - 155--Seek and Find - 156--Freaks of Fortune - 157--Make or Break - 158--Down the River - 159--The Boat Club - 160--All Aboard - 161--Now or Never - 162--Try Again - 163--Poor and Proud - 164--Little by Little - 165--The Sailor Boy - 166--The Yankee Middy - 167--Brave Old Salt - 175--Fighting for Fortune By Roy Franklin - 176--The Young Steel Worker By Frank H. MacDougal - 177--The Go-ahead Boys By Gale Richards - 178--For the Right By Roy Franklin - 179--The Motor Cycle Boys By Donald Grayson - 180--The Wall Street Boy By Allan Montgomery - 181--Stemming the Tide By Roy Franklin - 182--On High Gear By Donald Grayson - 183--A Wall Street Fortune By Allan Montgomery - 184--Winning by Courage By Roy Franklin - 185--From Auto to Airship By Donald Grayson - 186--Camp and Canoe By Remson Douglas - 187--Winning Against Odds By Roy Franklin - 188--The Luck of Vance Sevier By Frederick Gibson - 189--The Island Castaway By Roy Franklin - 190--The Boy Marvel By Frank H. MacDougal - 191--A Boy With a Purpose By Roy Franklin - 192--The River Fugitives By Remson Douglas - 193--Out For a Fortune By Roy Franklin - 194--The Boy Horse Owner By Frederick Gibson - 195--Always on Deck By Roy Franklin - 196--Paul Hassard’s Peril By Matt Royal - 197--His Own Master By Roy Franklin - 198--When Courage Wins By Edward S. Ellis - 199--Bound to Get There By Roy Franklin - 200--Who Was Milton Marr? By Frederick Gibson - 201--The Lost Mine By Roy Franklin - 202--Larry Borden’s Redemption By Emerson Baker - - - - -EVERY BOY - -Knows - -FRANK MERRIWELL - -No other fiction character is half so well known. Why? Well the books -tell why in no uncertain manner - - - - -BOOKS OF QUALITY - -Select Library - -_Big, Popular Standards_ - -This line is truly named. It is Select because each title in it -has been selected with great care from among hundreds of books by -well-known authors. - -A glance over the following list will show the names of Mary J. Holmes, -Marie Corelli, Rider Haggard, “The Duchess,” R. D. Blackmore, and -translations of some of the more famous French authors, like Victor -Hugo and Alphonse Daudet. - -If you are looking for books which will add to your knowledge of -literature, a complete set of the Select Library, which is so -reasonably priced, will do more for you than a like amount expended on -ordinary fiction between cloth covers. - -_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - - 1--Cousin Maude By Mary J. Holmes - 2--Rosamond Leyton By Mary J. Holmes - 6--Beulah By Augusta J. Evans - 10--The Homestead on the Hillside By Mary J. Holmes - 14--East Lynne By Mrs. Henry Wood - 16--A Romance of Two Worlds By Marie Corelli - 17--Cleopatra By H. Rider Haggard - 18--Maggie Miller By Mary J. Holmes - 27--Under Two Flags By “Ouida” - 28--Dora Deane By Mary J. Holmes - 29--Ardath. Vol. I By Marie Corelli - 30--Ardath. Vol. II By Marie Corelli - 31--The Light That Failed By Rudyard Kipling - 32--Tempest and Sunshine By Mary J. Holmes - 35--Inez By Augusta J. Evans - 36--Phyllis By “The Duchess” - 42--Vendetta By Marie Corelli - 43--Sapho By Alphonse Daudet - 44--Lena Rivers By Mary J. Holmes - 48--Meadowbrook By Mary J. Holmes - 50--Won by Waiting By Edna Lyall - 51--Camille By Alexandre Dumas - 53--Uncle Tom’s Cabin By Harriet Beecher Stowe - 54--The English Orphans By Mary J. Holmes - 57--Ethelyn’s Mistake By Mary J. Holmes - 58--Treasure Island By Robert Louis Stevenson - 59--Mildred Trevanion By “The Duchess” - 60--Dead Man’s Rock By “Q.” (A. T. Quiller-Couch) - 61--The Iron Pirate By Max Pemberton - 62--Molly Bawn By “The Duchess” - 63--Lorna Doone By R. D. Blackmore - 66--Airy Fairy Lilian By “The Duchess” - 67--The Cruise of the _Cachalot_ By Frank T. Bullen - 69--The Last Days of Pompeii By Sir Bulwer Lytton - 71--The Duchess By “The Duchess” - 72--Plain Tales From the Hills By Rudyard Kipling - 75--She By H. Rider Haggard - 76--Beatrice By H. Rider Haggard - 77--Eric Brighteyes By H. Rider Haggard - 78--Beyond the City By A. Conan Doyle - 79--Rossmoyne By “The Duchess” - 80--King Solomon’s Mines By H. Rider Haggard - 81--She’s All the World to Me By Hall Caine - 83--Kidnapped By Robert Louis Stevenson - 84--Undercurrents By “The Duchess” - 87--The House on the Marsh By Florence Warden - 88--The Witch’s Head By H. Rider Haggard - 89--A Perilous Secret By Charles Reade - 93--Beauty’s Daughters By “The Duchess” - 100--Led Astray By Octave Feuillet - 102--Marvel By “The Duchess” - 107--The Visits of Elizabeth By Elinor Glyn - 108--Allan Quatermain By H. Rider Haggard - 110--Soldiers Three By Rudyard Kipling - 113--A Living Lie By Paul Bourget - 114--Portia By “The Duchess” - 117--John Halifax, Gentleman By Miss Mulock - 118--The Tragedy in the Rue de la Paix By Adolphe Belot - 119--A Princess of Thule By William Black - 122--Doris By “The Duchess” - 123--Carmen and Colomba By Prosper Merimee - 125--The Master of Ballantrae By Robert Louis Stevenson - 126--The Toilers of the Sea By Victor Hugo - 127--Mrs. Geoffrey By “The Duchess” - 129--Love and Shipwreck By W. Clark Russell - 130--Beautiful Jim By John Strange Winter - 131--Lady Audley’s Secret By Miss M. E. Braddon - 132--The Frozen Pirate By W. Clark Russell - 133--Rory O’More By Samuel Lover - 134--A Modern Circe By “The Duchess” - 135--Foul Play By Charles Reade - 137--I Have Lived and Loved By Mrs. Forrester - 138--Elsie Venner By Oliver Wendell Holmes - 139--Hans of Iceland By Victor Hugo - 141--Lady Valworth’s Diamonds By “The Duchess” - 143--John Holdsworth, Chief Mate By W. Clark Russell - 145--Jess By H. Rider Haggard - 146--The Honorable Mrs. Vereker By “The Duchess” - 147--The Dead Secret By Wilkie Collins - 148--Ships That Pass in the Night By Beatrice Harraden - 149--The Suicide Club By Robert Louis Stevenson - 150--A Mental Struggle By “The Duchess” - 152--Colonel Quaritch, V. C. By H. Rider Haggard - 153--The Way of a Siren By “The Duchess” - 158--Lady Branksmere By “The Duchess” - 159--A Marriage at Sea By W. Clark Russell - 162--Dick’s Sweetheart By “The Duchess” - 165--Faith and Unfaith By “The Duchess” - 166--The Phantom Rickshaw By Rudyard Kipling - 209--Rose Mather By Mary J. Holmes - 210--At Mather House By Mary J. Holmes - 211--Edith Trevor’s Secret By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 212--Cecil Rosse By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 213--Cecil’s Triumph By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 214--Guy Earlscourt’s Wife By May Agnes Fleming - 215--The Leighton Homestead By Mary J. Holmes - 216--Georgie’s Secret By Mary J. Holmes - 217--Lady Kildare By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 218--Kathleen’s Strange Husband By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 219--Millbank By Mary J. Holmes - 220--Magda’s Choice By Mary J. Holmes - 221--Sundered Hearts By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 222--Bitter Sweet By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 223--Edith Lyle’s Secret By Mary J. Holmes - 224--Edith’s Daughter By Mary J. Holmes - 225--A Wonderful Woman By May Agnes Fleming - 226--The Mystery of Bracken Hollow By May Agnes Fleming - 227--The Haunted Husband By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 228--The White Life Endures By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 229--Darkness and Daylight By Mary J. Holmes - 230--The Unloved Husband By Mary J. Holmes - 231--Neva’s Three Lovers By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - 232--Neva’s Choice By Mrs. Harriet Lewis - - - - -Round the World Library - -Stories of Jack Harkaway and His Comrades - -Every reader, young and old, has heard of Jack Harkaway. His remarkable -adventures in out-of-the-way corners of the globe are really classics, -and every one should read them. - -Jack is a splendid, manly character, full of life and strength and -curiosity. He has a number of very interesting companions--Professor -Mole, for instance, who is very funny. He also has some very strange -enemies, who are anything but funny. - -Get interested in Jack. It will pay you. - -_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - -By BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG - - 1--Jack Harkaway’s School Days - 2--Jack Harkaway’s Friends - 3--Jack Harkaway After School Days - 4--Jack Harkaway Afloat and Ashore - 5--Jack Harkaway Among the Pirates - 6--Jack Harkaway at Oxford - 7--Jack Harkaway’s Struggles - 8--Jack Harkaway’s Triumphs - 9--Jack Harkaway Among the Brigands - 10--Jack Harkaway’s Return - 11--Jack Harkaway Around the World - 12--Jack Harkaway’s Perils - 13--Jack Harkaway in China - 14--Jack Harkaway and the Red Dragon - 15--Jack Harkaway’s Pluck - 16--Jack Harkaway in Australia - 17--Jack Harkaway and the Bushrangers - 18--Jack Harkaway’s Duel - 19--Jack Harkaway and the Turks - 20--Jack Harkaway in New York - 21--Jack Harkaway Out West - 22--Jack Harkaway Among the Indians - 23--Jack Harkaway’s Cadet Days - 24--Jack Harkaway in the Black Hills - 25--Jack Harkaway in the Toils - 26--Jack Harkaway’s Secret of Wealth - 27--Jack Harkaway, Missing - 28--Jack Harkaway and the Sacred Serpent - 29--The Fool of the Family - 30--Mischievous Matt - 31--Mischievous Matt’s Pranks - 32--Bob Fairplay Adrift - 33--Bob Fairplay at Sea - 34--The Boys of St. Aldates - 35--Billy Barlow - 36--Larry O’Keefe - 37--Sam Sawbones - 38--Too Fast to Last - 39--Home Base - 40--Spider and Stump - 41--Out for Fun - 42--Rob Rollalong, Sailor - 43--Rob Rollalong in the Wilds - 44--Phil, the Showman By Stanley Norris - 45--Phil’s Rivals By Stanley Norris - 46--Phil’s Pluck By Stanley Norris - 47--Phil’s Triumph By Stanley Norris - 48--From Circus to Fortune By Stanley Norris - 49--A Gentleman Born By Stanley Norris - 50--For His Friend’s Honor By Stanley Norris - - - - -The Dealer - -who handles the STREET & SMITH NOVELS is a man worth patronizing. The -fact that he does handle our books proves that he has considered the -merits of paper-covered lines, and has decided that the STREET & SMITH -NOVELS are superior to all others. - -He has looked into the question of the morality of the paper-covered -book, for instance, and feels that he is perfectly safe in handing one -of our novels to any one, because he has our assurance that nothing -except clean, wholesome literature finds its way into our lines. - -Therefore, the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer is a careful and wise -tradesman, and it is fair to assume selects the other articles he -has for sale with the same degree of intelligence as he does his -paper-covered books. - -Deal with the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer. - - STREET & SMITH CORPORATION - 79 Seventh Avenue New York City - - - - -BOOKS FOR YOUNG MEN - -MERRIWELL SERIES - -ALL BY BURT L. STANDISH - -Stories of Frank and Dick Merriwell - -Fascinating Stories of Athletics - -A half million enthusiastic followers of the Merriwell brothers will -attest the unfailing interest and wholesomeness of these adventures of -two lads of high ideals, who play fair with themselves, as well as with -the rest of the world. - -These stories are rich in fun and thrills in all branches of sports and -athletics. They are extremely high in moral tone, and cannot fail to be -of immense benefit to every boy who reads them. - -They have the splendid quality of firing a boy’s ambition to become a -good athlete, in order that he may develop into a strong, vigorous, -right-thinking man. - -_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - - 1--Frank Merriwell’s School Days - 2--Frank Merriwell’s Chums - 3--Frank Merriwell’s Foes - 4--Frank Merriwell’s Trip West - 5--Frank Merriwell Down South - 6--Frank Merriwell’s Bravery - 7--Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour - 8--Frank Merriwell in Europe - 9--Frank Merriwell at Yale - 10--Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield - 11--Frank Merriwell’s Races - 12--Frank Merriwell’s Party - 13--Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour - 14--Frank Merriwell’s Courage - 15--Frank Merriwell’s Daring - 16--Frank Merriwell’s Alarm - 17--Frank Merriwell’s Athletes - 18--Frank Merriwell’s Skill - 19--Frank Merriwell’s Champions - 20--Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale - 21--Frank Merriwell’s Secret - 22--Frank Merriwell’s Danger - 23--Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty - 24--Frank Merriwell in Camp - 25--Frank Merriwell’s Vacation - 26--Frank Merriwell’s Cruise - 27--Frank Merriwell’s Chase - 28--Frank Merriwell in Maine - 29--Frank Merriwell’s Struggle - 30--Frank Merriwell’s First Job - 31--Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity - 32--Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck - 33--Frank Merriwell’s Protégé - 34--Frank Merriwell on the Road - 35--Frank Merriwell’s Own Company - 36--Frank Merriwell’s Fame - 37--Frank Merriwell’s College Chums - 38--Frank Merriwell’s Problem - 39--Frank Merriwell’s Fortune - 40--Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian - 41--Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity - 42--Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit - 43--Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme - 44--Frank Merriwell in England - 45--Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards - 46--Frank Merriwell’s Duel - 47--Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot - 48--Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories - 49--Frank Merriwell’s Confidence - 50--Frank Merriwell’s Auto - 51--Frank Merriwell’s Fun - 52--Frank Merriwell’s Generosity - 53--Frank Merriwell’s Tricks - 54--Frank Merriwell’s Temptation - 55--Frank Merriwell on Top - 56--Frank Merriwell’s Luck - 57--Frank Merriwell’s Mascot - 58--Frank Merriwell’s Reward - 59--Frank Merriwell’s Phantom - 60--Frank Merriwell’s Faith - 61--Frank Merriwell’s Victories - 62--Frank Merriwell’s Iron Nerve - 63--Frank Merriwell in Kentucky - 64--Frank Merriwell’s Power - 65--Frank Merriwell’s Shrewdness - 66--Frank Merriwell’s Setback - 67--Frank Merriwell’s Search - 68--Frank Merriwell’s Club - 69--Frank Merriwell’s Trust - 70--Frank Merriwell’s False Friend - 71--Frank Merriwell’s Strong Arm - 72--Frank Merriwell as Coach - 73--Frank Merriwell’s Brother - 74--Frank Merriwell’s Marvel - 75--Frank Merriwell’s Support - 76--Dick Merriwell at Fardale - 77--Dick Merriwell’s Glory - 78--Dick Merriwell’s Promise - 79--Dick Merriwell’s Rescue - 80--Dick Merriwell’s Narrow Escape - 81--Dick Merriwell’s Racket - 82--Dick Merriwell’s Revenge - 83--Dick Merriwell’s Ruse - 84--Dick Merriwell’s Delivery - 85--Dick Merriwell’s Wonders - 86--Frank Merriwell’s Honor - 87--Dick Merriwell’s Diamond - 88--Frank Merriwell’s Winners - 89--Dick Merriwell’s Dash - 90--Dick Merriwell’s Ability - 91--Dick Merriwell’s Trap - 92--Dick Merriwell’s Defense - 93--Dick Merriwell’s Model - 94--Dick Merriwell’s Mystery - 95--Frank Merriwell’s Backers - 96--Dick Merriwell’s Backstop - 97--Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission - 98--Frank Merriwell’s Rescue - 99--Frank Merriwell’s Encounter - 100--Dick Merriwell’s Marked Money - 101--Frank Merriwell’s Nomads - 102--Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron - 103--Dick Merriwell’s Disguise - 104--Dick Merriwell’s Test - 105--Frank Merriwell’s Trump Card - 106--Frank Merriwell’s Strategy - 107--Frank Merriwell’s Triumph - 108--Dick Merriwell’s Grit - 109--Dick Merriwell’s Assurance - 110--Dick Merriwell’s Long Slide - 111--Frank Merriwell’s Rough Deal - 112--Dick Merriwell’s Threat - 113--Dick Merriwell’s Persistence - 114--Dick Merriwell’s Day - 115--Frank Merriwell’s Peril - 116--Dick Merriwell’s Downfall - 117--Frank Merriwell’s Pursuit - 118--Dick Merriwell Abroad - 119--Frank Merriwell in the Rockies - 120--Dick Merriwell’s Pranks - 121--Frank Merriwell’s Pride - 122--Frank Merriwell’s Challengers - 123--Frank Merriwell’s Endurance - 124--Dick Merriwell’s Cleverness - 125--Frank Merriwell’s Marriage - 126--Dick Merriwell, the Wizard - 127--Dick Merriwell’s Stroke - 128--Dick Merriwell’s Return - 129--Dick Merriwell’s Resource - 130--Dick Merriwell’s Five - 131--Frank Merriwell’s Tigers - 132--Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team - 133--Frank Merriwell’s Pupils - 134--Frank Merriwell’s New Boy - 135--Dick Merriwell’s Home Run - 136--Dick Merriwell’s Dare - 137--Frank Merriwell’s Son - 138--Dick Merriwell’s Team Mate - 139--Frank Merriwell’s Leaguers - 140--Frank Merriwell’s Happy Camp - 141--Dick Merriwell’s Influence - 142--Dick Merriwell, Freshman - 143--Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power - 144--Dick Merriwell’s Joke - 145--Frank Merriwell’s Talisman - 146--Frank Merriwell’s Horse - 147--Dick Merriwell’s Regret - 148--Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism - 149--Dick Merriwell’s Backers - 150--Dick Merriwell’s Best Work - 151--Dick Merriwell’s Distrust - 152--Dick Merriwell’s Debt - 153--Dick Merriwell’s Mastery - 154--Dick Merriwell Adrift - 155--Frank Merriwell’s Worst Boy - 156--Dick Merriwell’s Close Call - 157--Frank Merriwell’s Air Voyage - 158--Dick Merriwell’s Black Star - 159--Frank Merriwell in Wall Street - 160--Frank Merriwell Facing His Foes - 161--Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness - 162--Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case - 163--Dick Merriwell’s Stand - 164--Dick Merriwell Doubted - 165--Frank Merriwell’s Steadying Hand - 166--Dick Merriwell’s Example - 167--Dick Merriwell in the Wilds - 168--Frank Merriwell’s Ranch - 169--Dick Merriwell’s Way - 170--Frank Merriwell’s Lesson - 171--Dick Merriwell’s Reputation - 172--Frank Merriwell’s Encouragement - 173--Dick Merriwell’s Honors - 174--Frank Merriwell’s Wizard - 175--Dick Merriwell’s Race - 176--Dick Merriwell’s Star Play - 177--Frank Merriwell at Phantom Lake - 178--Dick Merriwell a Winner - 179--Dick Merriwell at the County Fair - 180--Frank Merriwell’s Grit - 181--Dick Merriwell’s Power - 182--Frank Merriwell in Peru - -In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the -books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New -York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance -promptly, on account of delays in transportation. - - To be published in January, 1928. - 183--Frank Merriwell’s Long Chance - 184--Frank Merriwell’s Old Form - - To be published in February, 1928. - 185--Frank Merriwell’s Treasure Hunt - 186--Dick Merriwell Game to the Last - - To be published in March, 1928. - 187--Dick Merriwell, Motor King - 188--Dick Merriwell’s Tussle - 189--Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash - - To be published in April, 1928. - 190--Dick Merriwell’s Intuition - 191--Dick Merriwell’s Placer Find - - To be published in May, 1928. - 192--Dick Merriwell’s Fighting Chance - 193--Frank Merriwell’s Tact - - To be published in June, 1928. - 194--Frank Merriwell’s Puzzle - 195--Frank Merriwell’s Mystery - - - - -RATTLING GOOD ADVENTURE - -SPORT STORIES - -_Stories of the Big Outdoors_ - -There has been a big demand for outdoor stories, and a very -considerable portion of it has been for the Maxwell Stevens stories -about Jack Lightfoot, the athlete. - -These stories are not, strictly speaking, stories for boys, but boys -everywhere will find a great deal in them to interest them. - -_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - - 1--Jack Lightfoot, the Athlete - 2--Jack Lightfoot’s Crack Nine - 3--Jack Lightfoot Trapped - 4--Jack Lightfoot’s Rival - 5--Jack Lightfoot in Camp - 6--Jack Lightfoot’s Canoe Trip - 7--Jack Lightfoot’s Iron Arm - 8--Jack Lightfoot’s Hoodoo - 9--Jack Lightfoot’s Decision - 10--Jack Lightfoot’s Gun Club - 11--Jack Lightfoot’s Blind - 12--Jack Lightfoot’s Capture - 13--Jack Lightfoot’s Head Work - 14--Jack Lightfoot’s Wisdom - - - - -_TALES OF THE ROLLING PLAINS_ - -Great Western Library - -By COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM and W. B. LAWSON - -Thrilling Adventure - -For many years we have been urged by readers who like Western stories -to publish some tales about the adventures of Diamond Dick. Therefore, -we decided to have a new series of stories based upon the adventures of -this famous Western character, and to put them in a line called GREAT -WESTERN LIBRARY, together with stories about Buffalo Bill, by Col. -Prentiss Ingraham. - -Thus, in this line two of the most famous of all American characters -join hands. The so-called society stories with a kick in them come -and go, but these clean, wholesome tales of the West give a clean-cut -picture of the lives and characters of the men who carried the advance -banners of civilization westward. - -There are Indian stories, cowboy stories, outlaw stories, all sorts of -stories of adventures out West. Each one is clean and decent, even if -it is thrilling. - -_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - - 1--Diamond Dick’s Own Brand By W. B. Lawson - 2--Buffalo Bill’s Honor By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 3--Diamond Dick’s Maverick By W. B. Lawson - 4--Buffalo Bill’s Phantom Hunt By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 5--Diamond Dick’s Man Hunt By W. B. Lawson - 6--Buffalo Bill’s Fight with Fire By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 7--Diamond Dick’s Danger Signal By W. B. Lawson - 8--Buffalo Bill’s Danite Trail By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 9--Diamond Dick’s Prospect By W. B. Lawson - 10--Buffalo Bill’s Ranch Riders By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 11--Diamond Dick and the Gold Bugs By W. B. Lawson - 12--Buffalo Bill’s Death Trail By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 13--Diamond Dick at Comet City By W. B. Lawson - 14--Buffalo Bill’s Trackers By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 15--Diamond Dick and the Worthless Bonanza By W. B. Lawson - 16--Buffalo Bill’s Mid-air Flight By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 17--Diamond Dick’s Black List By W. B. Lawson - 18--Buffalo Bill, Ambassador By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 19--Diamond Dick and the Indian Outlaw By W. B. Lawson - 20--Buffalo Bill’s Air Voyage By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 21--Diamond Dick and Gentleman Jack By W. B. Lawson - 22--Buffalo Bill’s Secret Mission By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 23--Diamond Dick at Secret Pass By W. B. Lawson - 24--Buffalo Bill’s Long Trail By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 25--Diamond Dick’s Red Trailer By W. B. Lawson - 26--Buffalo Bill Against Odds By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - -In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the -books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New -York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance -promptly, on account of delays in transportation. - - To be published in January, 1928. - 27--Buffalo Bill’s Bid for Fame By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 28--Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - - To be published in February, 1928. - 29--Buffalo Bill’s Swoop By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 30--Buffalo Bill and the Gold King By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - - To be published in March, 1928. - 31--Buffalo Bill’s Still Hunt By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 32--Buffalo Bill’s Traitor Guide By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - - To be published in April, 1928. - 33--Buffalo Bill and the Doomed By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - Dozen - 34--Buffalo Bill’s Border Duel By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - - To be published in May, 1928. - 35--Buffalo Bill’s Triumph By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 36--Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 37--Buffalo Bill’s Prairie Scout By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - - To be published in June, 1928. - 38--Buffalo Bill’s Death Call By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - 39--Buffalo Bill’s Double Surprise By Col. Prentiss Ingraham - - - - -Transcriber’s Note: - -The Contents was added by the transcriber. - -Punctuation and hyphenation have been standardised. Brand names “Vichy” -and “Prestolite” have been presented without initial capitals as they -appear in the original publication. Spelling anomalies retained include -“onery”, “varmit” and “cuticule”, otherwise spelling has been retained -as published except as follows: - - Page 5 - streak of red admist a swirling cloud _changed to_ - streak of red amidst a swirling cloud - - Page 6 - scarcely any preceptible slackening _changed to_ - scarcely any perceptible slackening - - Page 9 - heard the insistant ringing _changed to_ - heard the insistent ringing - - Page 11 - in that dierction _changed to_ - in that direction - - Page 15 - Stovebridge returned nonchanlantly _changed to_ - Stovebridge returned nonchalantly - - Page 17 - haberdasher at Witlon _changed to_ - haberdasher at Wilton - - Page 20 - hesitated for an intsant _changed to_ - hesitated for an instant - - Page 23 - malignent glare of hate _changed to_ - malignant glare of hate - - with facinated horror _changed to_ - with fascinated horror - - Page 25 - were bowling allies, billiard _changed to_ - were bowling alleys, billiard - - Page 26 - left here there _changed to_ - left her there - - Page 32 - part of a converastion _changed to_ - part of a conversation - - Page 33 - it’s celar as day _changed to_ - it’s clear as day - - who’s car did _changed to_ - whose car did - - Page 36 - in a preoccupied manned _changed to_ - in a preoccupied manner - - Page 45 - Jim Hanlon glairng at him _changed to_ - Jim Hanlon glaring at him - - imperceptible this lead increased _changed to_ - imperceptibly this lead increased - - Page 50 - the other’s facinated _changed to_ - the other’s fascinated - - Page 56 - save his overweaning desire _changed to_ - save his overweening desire - - Page 57 - to soak in the jaw _changed to_ - to sock in the jaw - - your going to settle down _changed to_ - you’re going to settle down - - Page 59 - in the pitchy darkness _changed to_ - in the pitch darkness - - abandoend his search _changed to_ - abandoned his search - - Page 69 - great fear, as he he _changed to_ - great fear, as he - - Page 71 - supplimented Niles fiercely _changed to_ - supplemented Niles fiercely - - Page 76 - supplimented Niles _changed to_ - supplemented Niles - - utter desolation and dispair _changed to_ - utter desolation and despair - - Page 79 - Summing all his resolution _changed to_ - Summoning all his resolution - - Page 95 - with supressed anger _changed to_ - with suppressed anger - - Page 96 - came sizzing over the _changed to_ - came sizzling over the - - a little grimance of _changed to_ - a little grimace of - - Page 97 - toward the culbhouse _changed to_ - toward the clubhouse - - Page 100 - Say’s there is no game _changed to_ - Says there is no game - - Page 104 - Take you hands _changed to_ - Take your hands - - Page 106 - IN DOLAN’S CAFE _changed to_ - IN DOLAN’S CAFÉ - - Page 107 - But to the cheap sport of Forrest Hills _changed to_ - But to the cheap sport of Forest Hills - - Page 113 - you’re pretty corky _changed to_ - you’re pretty cocky - - Page 117 - to think out their itineray _changed to_ - to think out their itinerary - - Page 120 - stepped into the elvator _changed to_ - stepped into the elevator - - Page 135 - aroung the diamond _changed to_ - around the diamond - - Page 143 - shook his head in dispair _changed to_ - shook his head in despair - - Page 145 - inperceptible flash _changed to_ - imperceptible flash - - Page 161 - My dear Mr. Spreckels _changed to_ - My dear Mr. Spreckles - - Page 165 - a good New Engalnd family _changed to_ - a good New England family - - Page 171 - keenly on Marcus Myer _changed to_ - keenly on Marcus Meyer - - Page 185 - Beat it! Vamose! _changed to_ - Beat it! Vamoose! - - Page 190 - with its rugs and and pictures _changed to_ - with its rugs and pictures - - Page 202 - no sound of footstps _changed to_ - no sound of footsteps - - Page 204 - the man was uisng _changed to_ - the man was using - - Page 216 - flying it’s alway necessary _changed to_ - flying it’s always necessary - - Page 225 - effort an almost irresistibel _changed to_ - effort an almost irresistible - - Page 228 - ceased its revoluntions _changed to_ - ceased its revolutions - - Page 231 - turned and loooked about _changed to_ - turned and looked about - - Page 238 - proceeded to make monkies of _changed to_ - proceeded to make monkeys of - - game, wining at will _changed to_ - game, winning at will - - Page 269 - crummed tobacco jammed _changed to_ - crumbed tobacco jammed - - Page 273 - find acommodations here _changed to_ - find accommodations here - - Page 274 - glad she was that Chested _changed to_ - glad she was that Chester - - Page 283 - muttered Warwoop _changed to_ - muttered Warwhoop - - Page 293 - was given a thump on the bungle _changed to_ - was given a thump on the bugle - - Page 301 - shrill warwooop that came _changed to_ - shrill warwhoop that came - - Page v of the book lists at the end of the book does not - have a listing for 1139 - - Page x of the book lists at the end of the book - Kidnaped By Robert Louis Stevenson _changed to_ - Kidnapped By Robert Louis Stevenson - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICK MERRIWELL’S AËRO DASH *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Standish</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<table style='padding:0; margin-left:0; border-collapse:collapse'> - <tr><td>Title:</td><td>Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash</td></tr> - <tr><td></td><td>Winning Above the Clouds</td></tr> -</table> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Burt L. Standish</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 28, 2021 [eBook #64407]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Edwards, Sue Clark, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICK MERRIWELL’S AËRO DASH ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<img id="cover" src="images/cover.jpg" width="973" height="1392" alt="Cover" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="divider" /> -<h1>Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash</h1> - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider2" /> -</div> -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> -<table summary="Contents"> -<tr> -<th class="tdr">Chapter</th> -<th class="tdl"> </th> -<th class="tdr2">Page</th> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">I.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Catastrophe</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#i">5</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">II.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Coward</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#ii">12</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">III.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">A Scrap of Paper</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#iii">25</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Stovebridge Finds an Ally</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#iv">35</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">V.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Struggle in the Dark</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#v">54</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Dick Merriwell Wins</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#vi">66</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Brand of Fear</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#vii">75</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Young Man in Trouble</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#viii">83</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">A Disgruntled Pitcher</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#ix">89</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">X.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">In Dolan’s Café</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#x">106</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Explosion</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xi">121</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Game Begins</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xii">135</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XIII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Against Heavy Odds</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xiii">147</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XIV.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Three Men of Millions</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xiv">159</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XV.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Mysterious Mr. Randolph</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xv">173</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XVI.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Mysterious House</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xvi">183</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XVII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">In the Shadow of the Cliffs</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xvii">195</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Bert Holton, Special Officer</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xviii">209</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XIX.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Race in the Clouds</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xix">222</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XX.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Outlaws</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xx">235</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXI.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Dick Merriwell’s Fist</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxi">247</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">All Arranged</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxii">254</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Chester Arlington’s Mother</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxiii">260</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXIV.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Two Indian Friends</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxiv">267</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXV.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Man in the Next Room</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxv">277</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">When Greek Meets Greek</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxvi">282</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXVII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Shangowah’s Backers</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxvii">290</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">Batted Out</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxviii">295</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXIX.</td> -<td class="tdl smcap">The Finish</td> -<td class="tdr2"><a href="#xxix">303</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<p class="title">Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash</p> - -<p class="subtitle"><small>OR</small><br /> -WINNING ABOVE THE CLOUDS</p> - -<p class="center p120 mt3 mb0">By<br /> -BURT L. STANDISH</p> - -<p class="center p80 nm">Author of the famous -Merriwell stories.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="colophon"> - <img class="smaller" src="images/colophon.jpg" width="175" height="225" alt="Colophon" /> -</div> - -<p class="center p120">STREET & SMITH CORPORATION<br /> -<small>PUBLISHERS<br /> -79–89 Seventh Avenue, New York</small></p> -</div> - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<p class="center">Copyright, 1910<br /> -By STREET <small>&</small> SMITH</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash</p> - -<p class="center">All rights reserved, including that of translation -into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian.</p> - -<p class="center">Printed in the U. S. A.</p> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>5</span> -<p class="p180 center">DICK MERRIWELL’S AËRO DASH.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h2 id="i">CHAPTER I.<br /> -<span>THE CATASTROPHE.</span></h2> - - -<p>A glorious midsummer morning, clear, balmy and -bracing. An ideal stretch of macadam, level as a -floor and straight as a die for close onto two miles, -with interminable fields of waving wheat on either -side. A new, high-power car in perfect running order.</p> - -<p>It was a temptation for speeding which few could -resist, certainly not Brose Stovebridge, who was little -given to thinking of the consequences when his -own pleasure was concerned, and who had a reputation -for reckless driving which was exceeded by none.</p> - -<p>With a shout of joy, he snatched off his cap and -flung it on the seat beside him. The next instant he -had opened the throttle wide and advanced the spark -to the last notch. The racing roadster leaped forward -like a thing alive and shot down the stretch—cut-out -wide open and pistons throbbing in perfect -unison—a blurred streak of red <a name="amidst" id="amidst"></a><ins title="Original has 'admist'">amidst</ins> a swirling cloud -of dust.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge bent over the wheel, his eyes shining -with excitement and his curly, blond hair tossed by -the cutting wind into a disordered mass above his -rather handsome face. The speedometer hand was -close to the fifty mark.</p> - -<p>“You’ll do, you beauty,” he muttered exultingly. -“I could squeeze another ten out of you, if I had the -chance.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>6</span> -The horn shrieked a warning as he pulled her down -to take the curve ahead, but her momentum was so -great that she shot around the wide swerve almost on -two wheels, with scarcely any <a name="perceptible" id="perceptible"></a><ins title="Original has 'preceptible'">perceptible</ins> slackening.</p> - -<p>The next instant Stovebridge gave a gasping cry -of horror.</p> - -<p>Directly in the middle of the road stood a little -girl. Her eyes were wide and staring, and she seemed -absolutely petrified with fright.</p> - -<p>The car swerved suddenly to one side, there was a -grinding jar of the emergency and the white, stricken -face vanished. With a sickening jolt, the roadster -rolled on a short distance and stopped.</p> - -<p>For a second or two Stovebridge sat absolutely still, -his hands trembling, his face the color of chalk. Then -he turned, as though with a great effort, and looked -back.</p> - -<p>The child lay silent, a crumpled, dust-covered heap. -The white face was stained with blood, one tiny hand -still clutched a bunch of wild flowers.</p> - -<p>The man in the car gave a shuddering groan.</p> - -<p>“I’ve killed her!” he gasped. “My God, I’ve killed -her!”</p> - -<p>He would be arrested—convicted—imprisoned. At -the thought every bit of manhood left him and fear -struck him to the soul. He knew that every law, -human or divine, bound him to pick up the child and -hurry her to a doctor, for there might still be a spark -of life which could be fanned into flame. But he was -lost to all sense of humanity, decency, or honor. Maddened -by the fear of consequences, his one impulse -was to fly—fly quickly before he was discovered.</p> - -<p>In a panic he threw off the brakes, started the car -and ran through his gears into direct drive with frantic -haste. The car leaped forward, and, without a backward -glance at the victim of his carelessness, Stovebridge<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>7</span> -opened her up wide and disappeared down the -road in a cloud of dust.</p> - -<p>The child lay still where she had fallen. Slowly the -dust settled and a gentle breeze stirred the flaxen hair -above her blood-stained face.</p> - -<p>Then came the throbbing of another motor approaching, -a deep-toned horn sounded, and a big, red touring -car, containing four young fellows, rounded the bend -at a fair speed.</p> - -<p>Dick Merriwell, the famous Yale athlete, was at the -wheel, and, catching sight of the little heap in the roadway, -he stopped the car with a jerk and sprang out.</p> - -<p>As he ran forward and gathered the limp form into -his arms, he gave an exclamation of pity. Then his -face darkened.</p> - -<p>“By heavens!” he cried. “I’d like to get my hands -on the man who did this. Poor little kid! Just look at -her face, Brad.”</p> - -<p>As Brad Buckhart, Dick’s Texas chum, caught sight -of the great gash over the child’s temple, his eyes -flashed and he clenched his fists.</p> - -<p>“The coyote!” he exploded. “He certain ought to -have a hemp necktie put around his neck with the -other end over a limb. I’d sure like to have a hold of -that other end. You hear me talk!”</p> - -<p>Squeezing past the portly form of Bouncer Bigelow, -Tommy Tucker leaned excitedly out of the tonneau.</p> - -<p>“Is she dead, Dick?” he asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>Merriwell took his fingers from the small wrist he -had been feeling.</p> - -<p>“Not quite,” he said shortly. “But it’s no thanks -to the scoundrel who ran her down and left her here.”</p> - -<p>His eyes, which had been looking keenly to right -and left, lit up as they fell upon the roof of a farm -house nestling among some trees a little way back from -the road.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>8</span> -“There’s a house, Brad,” he said in a relieved tone. -“Even if she doesn’t belong there, they’ll make her comfortable -and send for a doctor.”</p> - -<p>With infinite tenderness he carried the child down -the road a little way to a gate, and thence up a narrow -walk bordered with lilac bushes. The door of the -farm house was open and, without hesitation, he walked -into the kitchen, where a woman stood ironing.</p> - -<p>“I found——” he began.</p> - -<p>The woman turned swiftly, and as she saw his burden, -her face grew ghastly white and her hands flew -to her heart.</p> - -<p>“Amy!” she gasped in a choking voice. “Is—she——”</p> - -<p>“She’s not dead,” Dick reassured her, “but I’m afraid -she’s badly hurt. I picked her up in the road outside. -Some one in a car had run over her and left her -there.”</p> - -<p>For an instant he thought the woman was going to -faint. Then she pulled herself together with a tremendous -effort.</p> - -<p>“Give her to me!” she cried fiercely, her arms outstretched. -“Give her to me!”</p> - -<p>Her eyes were blinded with a sudden rush of tears.</p> - -<p>“Little Amy, that never did a bit o’ harm to nobody,” -she sobbed. “Oh, it’s too much!”</p> - -<p>“Careful, now,” Merriwell cautioned. “Take her -gently. I’m afraid her arm is broken.”</p> - -<p>“Would you teach a woman to be gentle to her -child?” she cried wildly.</p> - -<p>Without waiting for a reply, she gathered the little -form tenderly into her arms and laid her down on a -sofa which stood at one side of the room. Then running -to the sink for some water, she wet her handkerchief -and began to wipe off the child’s face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>9</span> -“You mustn’t mind what I said,” she faltered the -next moment. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just wild.”</p> - -<p>“I know,” Dick returned gently. “A doctor should -be called at——”</p> - -<p>“Of course!”</p> - -<p>She sprang to her feet and flew into another room, -whence Dick heard the <a name="insistent" id="insistent"></a><ins title="Original has 'insistant'">insistent</ins> ringing of a telephone -bell, followed quickly by rapid, broken sentences. -As the handkerchief fell from her hand he had picked -it up and was sprinkling the child’s face with water.</p> - -<p>Presently the girl gave a little moan and opened -her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Mamma,” she said faintly—“mamma!”</p> - -<p>The woman ran into the room at the sound.</p> - -<p>“Here I am, darling,” she said, as she knelt down -by the couch. “Where do you feel bad, Amy dear?”</p> - -<p>“My arm,” the child moaned, “and my head. A big -red car runned right over me.”</p> - -<p>“Red!” muttered Merriwell, his eyes brightening.</p> - -<p>“My precious!” soothed the mother. “The doctor’ll -be here right off. Does it hurt much?”</p> - -<p>The child closed her eyes and slow tears welled from -under the lashes.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she sobbed, “awful.”</p> - -<p>Dick ground his teeth.</p> - -<p>“It’s a crime for such men to be allowed on the -road,” he said in a low, tense tone. “I’m going to do -my level best to run down whoever was responsible -for this, and if I do, they’ll suffer the maximum penalty.”</p> - -<p>“I hope you do,” the woman declared fiercely. -“Hanging’s too good for ’em! My husband, George -Hanlon, ain’t the man to sit still an’ do nothing, -neither.”</p> - -<p>“They—wasn’t—men,” sobbed the child. “Only -one.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>10</span> -“One man in a red car of some sort,” Dick murmured -thoughtfully. “He must belong around here; -a fellow wouldn’t be touring alone.”</p> - -<p>Then he turned to Mrs. Hanlon.</p> - -<p>“I think I’ll be getting on,” he said quickly. “I -can’t do anything here, and the longer I delay the less -chance there’ll be of catching this fellow. I’ll call you -up to-night and find out how the little girl is doing.”</p> - -<p>“God bless you for what you’ve done,” the woman -said brokenly.</p> - -<p>“I wish it might have been more,” Dick answered as -he walked quickly toward the door. “Good-by.”</p> - -<p>As he hurried out he almost ran into a slim young -fellow, who was running up the walk. He was bare-headed, -and his long black hair straggled down over -a pair of fierce black eyes that had a touch of wildness -in them.</p> - -<p>Catching sight of Dick he glared at the Yale man, -and hesitated for an instant as if he meant to stop -him. Then, with a curious motion of his hands, he -brushed past Merriwell and disappeared into the house.</p> - -<p>“I’ve found a clue, pard,” Buckhart announced triumphantly, -as Dick reached the car.</p> - -<p>“What is it?”</p> - -<p>The Texan held up a cloth cap.</p> - -<p>“Picked it up by the side of the road,” he explained. -“Find the owner of that and you’ll sure have the onery -varmit who did this trick. You hear me gently -warble!”</p> - -<p>Dick took it in his hand and turned it over. The -stuff was a small black and white check and was lined -with gray satin. Stamped in the middle of the lining -was the name of the dealer who had sold it:</p> - -<p class="center">“Jennings, Haberdasher,<br /> -Wilton.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>11</span> -Wilton was a good-sized town they had passed -through about four miles back.</p> - -<p>“I thought he belonged around here,” Merriwell -said as he rolled up the cap and stuffed it into his -pocket. “Look out for a fellow without a hat, alone, -in a red car of some sort, Brad. That’s all we’ve got -to go by at present, but I shouldn’t wonder if it would -be enough.”</p> - -<p>He stepped into the car and started the engine, Brad -sprang up beside him and they were off.</p> - -<p>They had not gone a hundred feet when the black -haired youth rushed out of the gate to the middle of -the road. His eyes flashed fire, and as he saw the car -moving rapidly away from him his mouth moved and -twisted convulsively as if he wanted to shout, but could -not.</p> - -<p>Then, as the touring car disappeared around a turn -in the road, he clenched one fist and shook it fiercely -in that <a name="direction" id="direction"></a><ins title="Original has 'dierction'">direction</ins>. The next moment he was following -it as hard as he could run.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>12</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="ii">CHAPTER II.<br /> -<span>THE COWARD.</span></h2> - - -<p>With pallid face and nervous, twitching fingers, -which his desperate grip on the wheel scarcely served to -hide, Brose Stovebridge flew along the high road between -Wilton and the Clover Country Club.</p> - -<p>Now and then he looked back fearfully; at every -crossroad his eyes darted keenly to right and left, as -he let out the car to the very highest speed he dared, -hoping and praying that he might reach his goal without -encountering any one.</p> - -<p>All the time fear—deadly, unreasoning, ignoble fear—was -tugging at his heart-strings.</p> - -<p>He had gone through just such an experience as this -little more than a year ago in Kansas City. How -vividly it all came back to him! The unexpected meeting -with two old school chums whom he had not seen -in months; their hilarious progress of celebration from -one café to another, which ended, long past midnight, -in that wild joy ride through the silent, deserted -streets.</p> - -<p>He shuddered. He thought he had succeeded in -thrusting from his mind the details of it all: The sudden -skidding around a corner on two wheels; the man’s -face that flashed before them in the electric light, -dazed—white—terrified. The thud—the fall—the -sickening jolt, as the wheels went over him. Then that -wild, unreasoning, terror-stricken impulse to fly, to escape -the consequences at any cost, which possessed him. -He gave no thought to his unconscious victim. He only -wanted to get away before any one came, and somehow -he had done so.</p> - -<p>A few days later, in the safe seclusion of his home<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>13</span> -near Wilton, when he read that the fellow had succumbed -to his injuries in the Kansas City hospital, his -first thought was one of self-congratulation at his own -cleverness in eluding pursuit.</p> - -<p>His two chums he had never seen since that morning. -Only a few weeks ago one of them had declined an invitation -to visit him. He wondered why.</p> - -<p>Once in his prep school days, when the dormitory -caught fire, he had stumbled blindly down the fire escape -and left his roommate sleeping heavily. Luckily -the boy was roused in time; but it was no thanks to -Brose that he escaped with his life.</p> - -<p>For Stovebridge was a coward. In spite of his -handsome face and dashing manner; in spite of his -popularity, his athletic prowess, his many friends—in -spite of all, he was a moral coward.</p> - -<p>Few suspected it and still fewer knew, for the -fellow was constantly on his guard and clever at hiding -this unpleasant trait. But it was there just the -same, ready to leap forth in a twinkling, as it had done -this morning, and stamp his face with the brand of -fear.</p> - -<p>As the great, granite gateposts of the club appeared -in sight, Stovebridge breathed a sigh of relief. -By some extraordinary luck he had encountered no one -on his wild ride thither. He had passed several crossroads, -any one of which he was prepared to swear -he had come by, and for the present he was safe.</p> - -<p>Slowing down, he turned into the drive, and as he -did so he took out a handkerchief and passed it over his -moist forehead. He must compose himself before encountering -any of his fellow members.</p> - -<p>He carefully smoothed his ruffled hair with slim, -brown fingers, and reached over for his cap.</p> - -<p>The seat was empty. The cap had disappeared.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>14</span> -The discovery was like a physical blow, and for an -instant his heart stood still.</p> - -<p>Where had he lost it?</p> - -<p>The spot where he had run down the child was the -only feasible one. The cap must have fallen out when -he put on the emergency, and probably lay in plain -sight, a clue for the first passerby to pick up.</p> - -<p>For a moment he had a wild idea of going back for -it, but he thrust this from him instantly. It was impossible.</p> - -<p>Then the clubhouse came in sight. He must pull -himself together at once; he would get something to -steady his nerves before he met any one.</p> - -<p>Instead of continuing on to the front of the clubhouse, -where a crowd was congregated on the wide -veranda, he turned sharply to the right and drove his -car into one of the open sheds back of the kitchen. -Then he dived through a side door into the buffet.</p> - -<p>“Whisky, Joe,” he said nervously to the attendant.</p> - -<p>A bottle, glass and siphon were placed before him, -and even the taciturn Joe was somewhat astonished -at the size of the drink which Stovebridge poured -with shaking hand and drained at a swallow.</p> - -<p>He followed it with a little seltzer and, pouring out -another three fingers, sat back in his chair and took out -a gold cigarette case.</p> - -<p>As he selected a cigarette with some care, and held -it to the cigar lighter on the table, he noticed with -satisfaction that his fingers scarcely trembled at all.</p> - -<p>“That’s the stuff to steady a fellow’s nerves,” he -muttered, blowing out a cloud of blue smoke. “There’s -nothing like it.”</p> - -<p>He took a swallow and then drained the glass for the -second time.</p> - -<p>Presently his view of life became slightly more optimistic.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>15</span> -“It was a new cap,” he remembered with a sudden -feeling of relief.</p> - -<p>“I’ve never worn it here, and there’s an old one in -my locker. All I’ve got to do is to swear I never saw -it before if I’m asked about it—which isn’t likely.”</p> - -<p>When the cigarette was finished he went into the -dressing room and took a thorough wash. There was -no one there but the valet, who gave his clothes a good -brushing, so he had no trouble in getting the old cap -out of his locker and placing it at a becoming angle on -his freshly brushed hair. Then he strolled out onto -the veranda.</p> - -<p>Three or four fellows, lounging near the door, -greeted him jovially as he appeared.</p> - -<p>“Rather late, aren’t you, Brose?” one of them remarked, -as he joined them.</p> - -<p>“A little,” Stovebridge returned <a name="nonchalantly" id="nonchalantly"></a><ins title="Original has 'nonchanlantly'">nonchalantly</ins>. “It -was such a bully morning I took a spin along the river -road.”</p> - -<p>“Alone?” the other asked slyly.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge laughed.</p> - -<p>“Well, I happened to be—this time,” he answered, -a little self-consciously.</p> - -<p>Being very much of a lady’s man, it was rare for -him to be unaccompanied.</p> - -<p>“How I do love a hog!” drawled one of the fellows -who had not spoken. “Why the deuce didn’t -you ’phone me? I’ve been sitting here bored to death -for two solid hours.”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge was looking curiously at a big, red touring -car which had just driven up to the entrance.</p> - -<p>“Er—I beg pardon, Marston,” he stammered. “What -did you say?”</p> - -<p>“Really not worth repeating,” returned the other -languidly. “You seem to have something on your -mind, Brose.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>16</span> -Stovebridge gave a slight start as he turned back -to his friends.</p> - -<p>“I was wondering who those fellows are that just -drove up,” he said carelessly. “They’re talking to -old Clingwood.”</p> - -<p>Fred Marston turned with an effort and surveyed -the newcomers.</p> - -<p>“Don’t know, I’m sure,” he drawled sinking back -in his chair. “Never saw them before.”</p> - -<p>For some reason the strangers seemed to interest -Stovebridge extremely, and he continued to watch them -furtively. There were four of them. The one who -had driven the car, and with whom Roger Clingwood -was doing the most talking, was tall and handsome, -with dark hair and eyes, and the figure of an -athlete. The fellow who stood near him was good-looking, -too, and much more heavily built. Behind -them, a short, wiry youth was talking to a tremendously -stout fellow with a fat, good-humored face.</p> - -<p>Presently Stovebridge left his friends and wandered -along the veranda, pausing now and then to exchange -a remark with some acquaintance, and before long -he had reached the vicinity of the strangers, where -he leaned carelessly against a pillar and looked out -across the golf links.</p> - -<p>“Very glad you could get here this morning, Merriwell,” -Roger Clingwood, an old Yale graduate was -saying. “You’ll be able to look around a bit before -the race this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“Merriwell!” exclaimed Stovebridge under his -breath. “I wonder if that can be Dick Merriwell, of -Yale.”</p> - -<p>Suddenly a hand struck him on the shoulder and a -voice exclaimed heartily:</p> - -<p>“Hello, Brose, old boy! Wearing your old brown<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>17</span> -cap, I see. What’s the matter with the one you got -at the governor’s shop yesterday?”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge wheeled around with a sudden tightening -of his throat and saw the grinning face of Bob -Jennings, son of the haberdasher at <a name="wilton" id="wilton"></a><ins title="Original has 'Witlon'">Wilton</ins>, who had -been in the store when he bought that wretched cap -the day before. Here was the first complication.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge forced himself to smile.</p> - -<p>“Left it at home, Bob,” he returned carelessly. “This -was the first one I picked up as I came out this morning.”</p> - -<p>In the pause which followed Roger Clingwood stepped -forward.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t notice you were here, Stovebridge,” he -said pleasantly. “I’d like you to meet my friend Merriwell, -who has come up with some of his classmates to -spend a day or two at the club.”</p> - -<p>“Delighted, I’m sure,” Stovebridge said with an air -of good fellowship. “I know Mr. Merriwell very well -by reputation, but have never had the pleasure of meeting -him.”</p> - -<p>“Dick, this is Brose Stovebridge,” Clingwood went -on. “We claim for him—and I think justly—the title -of champion sprinter of the middle West.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell smiled as he held out his hand.</p> - -<p>“Very glad indeed to meet you, Mr. Stovebridge,” -he said heartily.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge gave a sudden gasp and faltered; then -he took the proffered hand limply.</p> - -<p>“Glad to meet you,” he said hoarsely.</p> - -<p>Instead of meeting Merriwell’s glance, his eyes were -fixed intently on the corner of a checked cap which -protruded from the Yale man’s pocket.</p> - -<p>It was the cap he had lost out of the car that morning, -or one exactly like it. Apparently it did not belong -to Merriwell, who held his own in his left hand.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>18</span> -Where had he picked it up? Where could he have -found it but in that fatal spot? Stovebridge’s brain -reeled and he felt a little faint. Then he realized that -Clingwood was speaking to him—introducing the other -Yale men—and with a tremendous effort he forced -himself to turn and greet them with apparent calmness.</p> - -<p>For a time there was a confused medley of talk and -laughter as some of the other members strolled up and -were presented to the strangers. Stovebridge was very -thankful for the chance it gave him to pull himself together -and hide his emotion.</p> - -<p>Presently there was a momentary lull and Dick -pulled the cap out of his pocket.</p> - -<p>“Does this belong to any of your fellows?” he asked -carelessly. “We picked it up in the road this morning.”</p> - -<p>Bob Jennings pounced on it.</p> - -<p>“Why, that looks like yours, Brose,” he said as he -turned it over.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge glanced at it indifferently. He had himself -well in hand now.</p> - -<p>“Rather like,” he drawled; “but mine is a little larger -check; besides, I didn’t wear it this morning, you -know.”</p> - -<p>“I could have sworn that you bought one exactly -like this,” Jennings said in a puzzled tone.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge laughed.</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t advise you to put any money on it, -Bob, because you’d lose,” he said lightly. “I’ll wear -mine to-morrow, and you’ll see the difference.”</p> - -<p>“Where did you find it, Dick?” Roger Clingwood -asked.</p> - -<p>Merriwell paused and glanced quietly around the -circle of men. Most of them looked indifferent, as -though they had very little interest in the cap or its -unknown owner.</p> - -<p>“It was picked up in the road about four miles this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>19</span> -side of Wilton,” he said in a low, clear voice. “It lay -near the body of a little girl who had been run over by -some car and left there to die.”</p> - -<p>There was a sudden, surprised hush, and then a perfect -volley of questions were flung at the Yale man.</p> - -<p>“Where was it?”</p> - -<p>“Who was she?”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t any one see it done?”</p> - -<p>“Is she dead?”</p> - -<p>The expression of languid indifference vanished from -their faces with the rapidity and completeness of chalk -under a wet sponge. Their eyes were full of eager -interest, and, as soon as the clamor was quelled, Dick -told the story with a brief eloquence which made -more than one man curse fiercely and blink his eyes.</p> - -<p>Once or twice the Yale man darted a keen glance -at Stovebridge, but the latter had turned away so -that only a small portion of his face was visible. He -seemed to be one of the few to remain unmoved by the -recital.</p> - -<p>Another was his friend Fred Marston, a man of -about thirty, with thin, dark hair plastered over a low -forehead, sensuous lips, and that unwholesome flabbiness -of figure which is always a sign of a life devoted -wholly to ease.</p> - -<p>As Dick finished the story, he shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Very likely she ran out in front of the car, and -was bowled over before the fellow had time to stop,” -he drawled. “Children are always doing things like -that. Sometimes I believe they do it on purpose.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell looked at him fixedly.</p> - -<p>“That’s quite possible,” he said quietly, but with a -certain challenging note in his voice. “But no one -but a coward—a contemptible coward—would have -run off and left her there.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>20</span> -Marston flushed a little and started to reply, but before -he could utter a word, a number of the club members -began to voice their opinions, and for a time the -talk ran fast and furious.</p> - -<p>Merriwell noticed that Stovebridge took no part in -it. He stood leaning against a pillar, his hands in his -pockets, apparently absorbed in watching a putting -match which was going on at a green just across the -drive.</p> - -<p>Presently the Yale man strolled over to his side.</p> - -<p>“Nice links you have here,” he commented.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge nodded silently without taking his eyes -from the players.</p> - -<p>“You have a car, haven’t you,” Dick went on casually.</p> - -<p>The other’s shoulders moved a little.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered. “Racing roadster—sixty horse-power.”</p> - -<p>There was a curious glitter in Dick Merriwell’s -dark eyes.</p> - -<p>“Dark red, isn’t she?” he queried.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge hesitated for an <a name="instant" id="instant"></a><ins title="Original has 'intsant'">instant</ins>.</p> - -<p>“Ye-s.”</p> - -<p>The players had finished their game and were coming -slowly toward the clubhouse, but Stovebridge’s -eyes never left the vivid patch of close-cropped turf.</p> - -<p>He was afraid to look up, afraid to meet the glance -of the man beside him. He dreaded the sound of the -other’s low, clear voice. Why was he asking these -questions? Why, indeed, unless he suspected?</p> - -<p>“You didn’t happen to run over the main road from -Wilton this morning, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>The guilty man could not suppress a slight start. It -had come, then. Merriwell did suspect him. His -tongue clove to the roof of his mouth and for a moment -he was speechless. He moistened his dry lips.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>21</span> -“No,” he said hoarsely. “I came—by the river -road.”</p> - -<p>What was the matter with him? That did not sound -like his voice. It was not the way an innocent man -would have answered an unmistakable innuendo. If -he did not pull himself together instantly he would be -lost.</p> - -<p>The next moment he turned on the Yale man.</p> - -<p>“Why do you ask that?” he said almost fiercely. -“What do you mean by such a question?”</p> - -<p>His face was calm, though a little pale. His long -lashes drooped purposely over the blue eyes to hide the -fear which filled them.</p> - -<p>Merriwell looked at him keenly.</p> - -<p>“I thought perhaps we could fix the time of the -accident, if you had gone over the road before me,” -he said quietly. “But I see we cannot.”</p> - -<p>He turned away, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, -and joined the others.</p> - -<p>Brose Stovebridge gave a shiver as he saw him go. -He had the desperate feeling of going to pieces; unless -he could steady his nerves he felt that in a very -few minutes he would give himself away.</p> - -<p>Without a word to any one, he slipped through the -big reception hall of the clubhouse and thence to the -buffet. Here he tossed off another drink and then -hurried out the side door.</p> - -<p>The attendant looked after him with a shake of his -head.</p> - -<p>“He’s got something on his mind, he has,” he muttered. -“Never knew him to take so much of a morning—and -the very day he’s going to run, too.”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge walked over to the automobile sheds. -He was not likely to be disturbed there, and if some -one did come around he could pretend to be fussing -with his car.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>22</span> -He scarcely noticed Merriwell’s touring car, which -had been put into the shed next to his own. At another -time he would have examined it with interest, -for he was a regular motor fiend. But now he passed -it with a glance, and going up to his own car, lifted -up the hood and leaned over the cylinders.</p> - -<p>He had not been there more than a minute or two -when he felt a hand grasp his shoulder firmly.</p> - -<p>With a snarl of terror, he straightened up and -whirled around.</p> - -<p>He had expected to find Merriwell, come to accuse -him. Instead, he saw before him Jim Hanlon, a -deaf mute, who occasionally did odd jobs around the -club. The fellow’s face was distorted with rage, his -eyes flashed fire, his slight frame fairly quivered with -emotion.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge stepped back instinctively.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with you?” he asked harshly. -“What are you doing here?”</p> - -<p>As the clubman spoke the deaf mute’s eyes were fixed -upon his lips. Evidently he understood what the other -said, for his own mouth writhed and twisted in his -desperate, futile efforts to give voice to his emotion.</p> - -<p>The next instant he snatched a scrap of soiled brown -paper from his pocket and produced the stub of a -pencil.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge watched him with a vague uneasiness as -he scrawled a few words and then thrust the paper -into the clubman’s hand.</p> - -<p>“Somebudy run over Amy an kill her.”</p> - -<p>As he deciphered the illiterate sentence, Stovebridge -shivered. Until that moment he had forgotten that -this fellow was the child’s brother. What was he -about to do? He looked as though he were capable of -anything. Above all, how much did he know?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>23</span> -Looking up, Brose met the fellow’s eyes fixed fiercely -on his own. He shivered again.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, with an effort at calmness. “I heard -about it. It’s too bad.”</p> - -<p>As the words left his lips he realized their utter -inadequacy.</p> - -<p>With a scowl, Hanlon snatched the paper from his -hands and wrote again.</p> - -<p>“I’ll kill the man that did it—kill him!”</p> - -<p>The word kill was heavily underlined in a pitiful -attempt at emphasis.</p> - -<p>As Stovebridge read the short line he felt a cold -chill going down his back. He had not the slightest -doubt that the fellow meant what he had written. But -how had he found out? Who had told him? Was it -possible that he could have witnessed the accident from -some place out of sight?</p> - -<p>He shot another glance at Hanlon and met the same -<a name="mal" id="mal"></a><ins title="Original has 'malignent'">malignant</ins> -glare of hate. The fellow looked positively murderous.</p> - -<p>The next moment the deaf mute had pulled a long, -keen knife out of his pocket, which he held up before -Stovebridge’s terror-stricken eyes and shook it -significantly. At the same time he nodded his head -fiercely.</p> - -<p>Brose gave a low gasp as he gazed at the wicked -blade with <a name="fascinated" id="fascinated"></a><ins title="Original has 'facinated'">fascinated</ins> horror. Why had he ever come -out here alone and given the fellow this chance? Why -hadn’t he stayed with the others? No matter what -else might have happened, he would have been safe. -Arrest, conviction, disgrace—anything would have -been better than this.</p> - -<p>Overcome by a momentary faintness, he closed his -eyes.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the paper was twitched from his fingers, -and, with a frightened gasp, he looked up.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>24</span> -The knife had disappeared and Hanlon was writing, -again.</p> - -<p>Desperately, as a drowning man clutches a straw, -Stovebridge snatched at the paper.</p> - -<p>“What’s the name of the feller that came with three -others in that car.”</p> - -<p>Puzzled, the clubman looked at Hanlon and found -him pointing at Dick Merriwell’s touring car. What -did he mean? What could he want with Merriwell? -Was it possible that he did not really know—that he -wanted to get proof from the Yale man before proceeding -with his murderous attack?</p> - -<p>“Why do you want to know?” he faltered.</p> - -<p>The other seized the paper from the man’s trembling -fingers, wrote three words and thrust it back.</p> - -<p>“He killed Amy.”</p> - -<p>As Stovebridge read the short sentence, he could -have shouted with joy. Hanlon did not know the -truth, after all. For some unaccountable reason he -suspected Merriwell. Perhaps it was because the Yale -man had carried the child into the house; anyhow it did -not matter, so long as he himself was safe.</p> - -<p>Then another thought flashed into his mind. The -fellow suspected Merriwell—not only suspected, but -was convinced. He would try to kill the Yale man, -and perhaps succeed. Well, what of that? With -Merriwell out of the way Stovebridge would be safe—quite -safe. No one else had the slightest suspicion.</p> - -<p>He took the pencil out of the deaf mute’s hand, and, -after a moment’s hesitation wrote, on the bottom of -the paper:</p> - -<p>“His name is Dick Merriwell.”</p> - -<p>Somehow, as he handed the paper to the wild-eyed -youth, he had the odd feeling that he had signed a -death warrant.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>25</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="iii">CHAPTER III.<br /> -<span>A SCRAP OF PAPER.</span></h2> - - -<p>The Clover Country Club had acquired a wider reputation -than is usual with an organization of that -description.</p> - -<p>Intended originally as a simple athletic club, with -out-of-door sports and games the special features, it -had one of the finest golf links in the Middle West. -Its tennis courts were unsurpassed, its running track -unrivaled. There was a well-laid-out diamond which -had been the scene of many a hot game of baseball, -and which was used in the fall for football. Indoors -were bowling -<a name="alleys" id="alleys"></a> -<ins title="Original has 'allies'">alleys</ins>, -billiard, and pool tables, a beautiful -swimming tank in a well-equipped gymnasium.</p> - -<p>But in the course of time other and less desirable -features had been added. The younger set had developed -into a rather fast, sporting crowd, and, slowly -increasing in numbers and in power, they gradually -crowded the old conservatives to the wall, until finally -they controlled the management.</p> - -<p>To-day the club was better known for the completeness -of its buffet, than for the gymnasium; and it was -a well-known fact that frequently more money changed -hands in the so-called private card room in a single -night than in the old days had been won or lost on -sporting bets in the course of an entire season.</p> - -<p>In spite of all this, however, out-of-door sports were -still a feature, and now and then, when some especially -well-known athletes were at the club, matches and contests -of various kinds were arranged.</p> - -<p>That very afternoon a mile race had been planned -between Stovebridge and Charlie Layton—a Columbia<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>26</span> -graduate reported to have beaten everything in his -class from Chicago to Omaha—who was coming on -from the latter city especially for the occasion.</p> - -<p>Fred Marston and others of his ilk usually did a -great deal of sneering at such affairs, calling them -farcical relics of barbarism, and made it plain that they -only attended for the excitement of betting on the -result; but this made little difference in the general enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>For a time after the departure of Stovebridge the -discussion of Merriwell’s story continued with some -warmth, and many were the speculations as to the -identity of the brute who had run over the child and -left <a name="her" id="her"></a><ins title="Original has 'here'">her</ins> there. But even that topic could not hold the -interest of such a crowd of men for very long, and -presently they began to disperse, some seeking the -card room, others the buffet, while the remainder -found comfortable seats on the veranda to put in the -hour before luncheon in indolent lounging and small -talk.</p> - -<p>Roger Clingwood hesitated an instant before the -wide doors of the reception hall.</p> - -<p>“It’s too late for golf or tennis,” he said regretfully. -“Is there anything else you would like to do -before lunch? Er—cards, perhaps, or——”</p> - -<p>He was one of the older members who had fought -vigorously, but in vain, against the introduction of -gambling in the club; but his innate sense of hospitality -made him suggest the only form of amusement -possible in the short time.</p> - -<p>Dick smiled.</p> - -<p>“Not for me, thank you,” he said quickly. “It always -seems a waste of time to sit around a table in -a stuffy room when you might be doing something -interesting outside.”</p> - -<p>Clingwood’s face brightened.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>27</span> -“I’m glad of that,” he said warmly. “I enjoy a good -rubber as well as the next man, but I don’t like the -kind of play that goes on here. How do your friends -feel about it?”</p> - -<p>He looked inquiringly at the others.</p> - -<p>“Nix,” Buckhart said decidedly. “Not for me.”</p> - -<p>Tucker and Bigelow both shook their heads.</p> - -<p>“I used to flip the pasteboards in my younger days,” -the former grinned; “but I’ve reformed.”</p> - -<p>“Why not just sit here and do nothing?” Merriwell -asked. “I feel that I’d enjoy an hour’s loaf.”</p> - -<p>Bigelow evidently agreed with him, for he sank instantly -into one of the wicker chairs, with a sigh of -thankfulness.</p> - -<p>The others followed his example, and their host -took out a well-filled cigar case and passed it around. -Tucker accepted one; the others declined.</p> - -<p>“Layton ought to show up soon,” Clingwood remarked, -settling back in his chair and blowing out -a cloud of smoke. “I believe he’s due in Wilton at -eleven forty-seven.”</p> - -<p>“Layton?” Dick exclaimed interestedly. “Not Charlie -Layton, the Columbia man?”</p> - -<p>“That’s the boy. Know him?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve met him. He’s one of the best milers in the -country. Stovebridge must be pretty good to run -against him.”</p> - -<p>“He is,” returned the older man. “He trains with -a crowd that I’m not at all in sympathy with, but, for -all that, he’s not a bad fellow; crackerjack tennis -player, and has a splendid record for long distance -running. He keeps himself in fair training and doesn’t -lush as much as most of his friends do.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” Dick said thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>This did not sound at all like a fellow who would -run down a child and never stop to see how badly she<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>28</span> -was hurt. As a rule, good athletes are not cowards, -though he had known exceptions.</p> - -<p>At the same time, Stovebridge’s actions had been -suspicious. Dick had not failed to notice his consternation -at the sight of the cap, though he had quickly -recovered himself and his explanation had been plausible -enough.</p> - -<p>Later, during Merriwell’s conversation with him, -the fellow’s agitation had been palpable. That he was -laboring under a tremendous mental strain, the Yale -man was certain. Of course, the cause of it might -have been something quite different, but to Dick it -looked very much as though Brose Stovebridge knew -a good deal more about the accident than would -appear.</p> - -<p>And he had come to the club that morning alone -in a red car!</p> - -<p>All at once Dick became conscious that some one -had paused on the drive quite close to the veranda and -was looking at him.</p> - -<p>As he raised his head quickly, he saw that it was -the same dark-haired, sullen youth he had passed as -he came out of the farmhouse that morning.</p> - -<p>To Dick’s astonishment the fellow’s eyes were fixed -on him with a look of fierce, malignant hatred which -was unmistakable. His fingers twitched convulsively -and his whole attitude was one of consuming rage.</p> - -<p>As Merriwell looked up, the other seemed to control -himself with an effort, and, turning his head -away, slouched on along the drive.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with him I wonder?” the -Yale man mused. “He looks as if he could eat me -up with the greatest pleasure in life. I wonder who -he is?”</p> - -<p>He turned to Roger Clingwood, who was talking -with Buckhart and Tucker.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>29</span> -“Who is that fellow that just passed, Mr. Clingwood?” -he asked, when there was a lull in the conversation. -“Did you notice him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I saw him. That’s Jim Hanlon; he occasionally -does odd jobs about the grounds.”</p> - -<p>“Hanlon!” Dick exclaimed. “Any relation to the -little girl?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, her brother.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I see.”</p> - -<p>Dick hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Is he—all there?” he asked after a moment’s pause.</p> - -<p>Roger Clingwood looked rather surprised.</p> - -<p>“Yes, so far as I know. He’s deaf and dumb, you -see, and has the reputation of being rather hot tempered -at times; but I never heard that he didn’t -have all his faculties. Poor fellow! It’s enough to -drive any one dotty to have to do all one’s talking -with pencil and paper. I’m not surprised that he -loses his temper now and then.”</p> - -<p>“I should say not,” Tucker put in. “Just imagine -getting into an argument and having to write it all -out. I’d lay down and cough up the ghost.”</p> - -<p>“I opine you’d blow up and bust, Tommy,” Buckhart -grinned. “Or else the hot air would strike in -and smother you.”</p> - -<p>“You’re envious of my wit and persiflage,” declared -Tucker. “I’d be ashamed to show such a disposition -as that, if I were you.”</p> - -<p>“When you’re talking with Hanlon, do you also -have to take to pencil and paper?” Dick asked interestedly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” Clingwood answered. “He knows what -you’re saying by watching your lips. He’s amazingly -good at it, too; I’ve never seen him stumped.”</p> - -<p>At that moment Stovebridge strolled out of the -clubhouse and stopped beside Clingwood’s chair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>30</span> -“Any signs of Layton yet?” he drawled.</p> - -<p>“Haven’t seen him,” the other man answered. “He’s -had hardly time to get here from Wilton, has he?”</p> - -<p>“Plenty, if he came on the eleven forty-seven. Sartoris -went over with his car to meet him. I hope he’s -not going to disappoint us.”</p> - -<p>He turned away and walked slowly down the veranda -toward Marston lounging in a corner.</p> - -<p>As Dick followed him with his eyes, there was a -slightly puzzled look in them.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge was so cool and self-possessed, so utterly -different from the man who had shown such agitation -barely half an hour before, that for an instant Merriwell -was staggered.</p> - -<p>“Either I’m wrong and he’s innocent,” he thought -to himself, “or he has the most amazing self-control. -There isn’t a hint in his manner that the fellow has a -trouble in the world.”</p> - -<p>Then the Yale man’s intuitive good sense reasserted -itself.</p> - -<p>“He’s bluffing,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll -stake my reputation that, for all his pretended indifference, -Brose Stovebridge is either the guilty man, -or he knows who is. And I rather think he’s the one -himself.”</p> - -<p>Roger Clingwood pulled out his watch.</p> - -<p>“Well, boys, it’s about time for lunch,” he remarked. -“Suppose I take you up to your rooms and, after you’ve -brushed up a bit, we’ll go in and have a bite to eat.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll get the bags out of the car and be with you in -a minute,” Dick said as they stood up.</p> - -<p>“Wait, I’ll ring for a man to take them up,” proposed -Clingwood.</p> - -<p>“Don’t bother,” Dick said quickly. “They’re very -light, and Brad and I can easily carry them. Besides,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>31</span> -I’d like to see just where they’ve put the car so that -I’ll know where to go if I want to take her out.”</p> - -<p>“Well, have your own way,” smiled the other. “The -garage is around at the back. Follow the drive and you -can’t miss it.”</p> - -<p>Leaving Tucker and Bigelow with their host, the -two chums followed the latter’s directions and had -no difficulty in locating the automobile sheds.</p> - -<p>Merriwell was glad of the opportunity, for he wanted -very much to have a look at Stovebridge’s car. In -fact, that was his principal reason for coming out instead -of having the bags sent for.</p> - -<p>There were a dozen machines in the sheds, of all -sizes and makes, but only two runabouts. One was a -small electric, and the other—standing in the compartment -next to Dick’s car, the <i>Wizard</i>—was a new, high-power -roadster, painted a dark red.</p> - -<p>“That’s the one, I reckon,” he said aloud, as they -surveyed it.</p> - -<p>The Texan’s eyes crinkled.</p> - -<p>“I opine it is, pard, if you say so,” he grinned. -“Might a thick, onery cow-puncher ask, what one?”</p> - -<p>“Stovebridge’s car,” Merriwell explained briefly.</p> - -<p>The Westerner gave a low whistle.</p> - -<p>“Oh, ho! A red runabout,” he murmured. “So -you think he’s the gent we’re after?”</p> - -<p>As Dick stepped in to examine the car more closely, -his eyes fell upon a scrap of paper which lay on the -ground close by one of the forward wheels. Picking -it up, he saw that it was a torn piece of common -brown wrapping paper, very much mussed and dirty. -He was about to toss it aside when he happened to -turn it over. The next instant his eyes widened with -surprise.</p> - -<p>“What the mischief is this, I wonder?” he said in -a low tone.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>32</span> -Buckhart stepped forward and looked at it over the -other’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“‘His name is Dick Merriwell’,” he read slowly. -“Who’s been taking your name in vain, partner?”</p> - -<p>Dick made no reply. He was busy trying to decipher -the illiterate scrawl which preceded the one -legible sentence the Texan had read. Slowly, word -by word, he made it out.</p> - -<p>“Somebody—run over—Amy—and—kill her,” he -read at last.</p> - -<p>“Amy—who is Amy?” he mused. “Why, that’s the -little girl we picked up this morning—Amy Hanlon.”</p> - -<p>He looked at the paper again, and then, like a ray -of light, the solution flashed into his brain.</p> - -<p>“Why, that dumb fellow—her brother—must have -written this!” he exclaimed. “Clingwood said he had -to do his talking on paper. But what on earth is my -name here for? Wait a minute.”</p> - -<p>His eyes went back to the scrap of paper, and for -a few minutes there was silence. When he looked up -at Buckhart, his face was set and his eyes stern.</p> - -<p>“Listen, Brad,” he said rapidly. “On this paper there -are four questions and one answer. The questions -were written by an illiterate person; the answer—was -not. It is evidently part of a <a name="conversation" id="conversation"></a><ins title="Original has 'converastion'">conversation</ins> between -this dumb fellow and some one else. Hanlon first -informs this person that his sister had been run over -and killed. How he got the idea I don’t know, unless -she had fainted when he went into the room, and he -did not wait long enough to find out the truth. Then -he proceeds to inform whoever he is talking with -that he will kill the man who ran the child down. -Then he writes: ‘What’s the name of the fellow that -came, with three others, in that car?’ Do you make any -sense out of that, Brad?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>33</span> -The Texan shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I sure don’t,” he said decidedly.</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t know as I blame you,” Merriwell -returned. “The next sentence is apparently the answer -to a question by the other man. It is: ‘He killed -Amy.’ Meaning that the man in a car with three -others ran over his sister, which, of course, we know -isn’t so. There was only one, according to her statement. -Then follows the line in another hand which you -read: ‘His name is Dick Merriwell.’ Don’t you see -now, Brad?”</p> - -<p>“Afraid I’m awful thick——”</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s <a name="clear" id="clear"></a><ins title="Original has 'celar'">clear</ins> as day,” Merriwell interrupted. -“This Hanlon has somehow got the idea that I ran -over the little girl. He doesn’t know my name and -proceeds to ask this unknown person what it is, giving -at the same time the reason why he wants to -know. He gets the answer without a word of denial -or explanation, and goes away with the firm belief that -I am a murderer. That accounts for the look he gave -me when he passed the veranda a little while ago.”</p> - -<p>“The miserable snake!” exploded the irate Westerner. -“Wait till I put my blinkers on him!”</p> - -<p>“He isn’t to blame,” Dick asserted quickly. “He -thinks he’s right. It’s the other man I’d like to get -my hands on—the fellow that let him go on believing -a lie.”</p> - -<p>He paused and looked significantly at Buckhart.</p> - -<p>“Who is the man most interested in shifting the -blame to my shoulders?” he asked in a hard voice. -“Whom have we suspected? Under <a name="whose" id="whose"></a><ins title="Original has 'who’s'">whose</ins> car did -I pick up this paper?”</p> - -<p>“Stovebridge!”</p> - -<p>The word came in a smothered roar from the lips of -the irate Texan, and, turning swiftly, he started toward<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>34</span> -the clubhouse, his face flushed with rage and his -eyes flashing.</p> - -<p>“Stop! Come back, Brad,” Dick called. “You must -not do anything now. We have no real proof; he -would deny everything.”</p> - -<p>Buckhart hesitated and then came slowly back to -the shed. Dick went over to his own car and pulled -out a couple of bags from the tonneau.</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry, you untamed Maverick of the Pecos,” -he said with a half smile. “We’ll get him right before -very long.”</p> - -<p>He folded the paper and put it carefully away in his -breast pocket.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got this, for one thing,” he went on, “and I -also have an idea in my head which I think will come -to something.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>35</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="iv">CHAPTER IV.<br /> -<span>STOVEBRIDGE FINDS AN ALLY.</span></h2> - - -<p>Brose Stovebridge dropped down in a chair beside -his friend Marston and pulled out his cigarette case.</p> - -<p>“Have one?” he invited, extending it to the other.</p> - -<p>Marston selected a cigarette languidly.</p> - -<p>“How did this fellow Merriwell happen to honor the -club with his presence to-day?” he inquired sarcastically.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge struck a match and held it to the other’s -cigarette; then, lighting his own, he sank back in the -chair.</p> - -<p>“He’s Clingwood’s friend, I believe,” he answered -with apparent indifference. “You speak as though you -didn’t like him.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t,” snapped Marston. “I hate him—hate the -whole brood.”</p> - -<p>The blond fellow raised his eyebrows.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know you’d ever met him,” he commented. -“You certainly didn’t greet him as though you had ever -laid eyes on him before.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t,” the other said bitterly. “I know his -brother—that’s enough.”</p> - -<p>“His brother?” queried Stovebridge.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Frank Merriwell. I ran up against him at -Yale, and of all the straight-laced freaks he took the -cake—wouldn’t drink, wouldn’t smoke; wouldn’t play -poker, wouldn’t do anything but bone, and go in for -athletics.”</p> - -<p>“Humph!” remarked Stovebridge cynically. “I don’t -wonder you didn’t like him. He wasn’t in your class -at all. But if he was as good an athlete as his brother,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>36</span> -he must have been some pumpkins. I don’t just see, -though, how that accounts for your violent antipathy. -Why didn’t you let him go on his benighted way and -have nothing to do with him?”</p> - -<p>Marston’s heavy brows contracted in a scowl.</p> - -<p>“You don’t suppose I cared a hang what he did, -do you?” he snarled. “That didn’t worry me any, -but he had to get meddlesome and butt into my affairs. -Got my best friend so crazy about him that he went -and gave up cards and all that, and trained with Merriwell’s -crowd. Of course, he was no use to me after -that. Do you wonder that I dislike Frank Merriwell, -and his brother as well?”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Don’t know as I do?” he said in a preoccupied -<a name="manner" id="manner"></a><ins title="Original has 'manned'">manner</ins>.</p> - -<p>He had been thinking of something else.</p> - -<p>They smoked for a few minutes in silence. Once or -twice Marston glanced curiously at his friend, who -was scowling at the floor.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with you to-day, Brose?” he -asked presently. “You act like you had something on -your mind.”</p> - -<p>The other looked up with a sudden start.</p> - -<p>“Why, no; I——”</p> - -<p>Marston shrugged his shoulders indifferently.</p> - -<p>“Don’t tell me, if you don’t want to,” he drawled. -“But if it’s something you want to keep to yourself, -for goodness sake, wipe that scowl off your face and -brace up.”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge eyed the other with a speculative glance. -Why not confide in Marston? He hated Merriwell and -would certainly never peach. Besides, he might suggest -something helpful.</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you about it, Fred,” he said in a low tone, -as he drew his chair closer to his friend. “I’m in a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>37</span> -deuce of a scrape. I—I—was the one—who ran over -that kid this morning.”</p> - -<p>His face flushed a little; his eyes were averted. He -did not find it easy to tell, even to Fred Marston.</p> - -<p>The latter gave a low whistle.</p> - -<p>“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “You don’t say! How -did it happen?”</p> - -<p>“It was at the bend by the Hanlon farm,” Stovebridge -explained. “I was hitting up a pretty good clip, -and when I came round the bend she was standing in -the middle of the road. There was plenty of time for -her to get away, but she never moved. I tried to -run to one side, but there wasn’t room, and—the kid -went under.”</p> - -<p>“I always said they didn’t have sense enough to get -out of the way,” Marston remarked in a vexed tone.</p> - -<p>Then he looked curiously at his friend.</p> - -<p>“What made you beat it?” he asked. “Why didn’t -you stop and pick her up? It wasn’t your fault—no -one could have blamed you, if you only hadn’t run -away.”</p> - -<p>“I couldn’t, Fred—I simply couldn’t,” Stovebridge -confessed, without lifting his eyes. “My one idea was -to get away before any one saw me. You know the -beastly things they do to a fellow sometimes. Why, -I might have been jugged for a year or more.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know,” agreed the other. “Still——”</p> - -<p>He stopped abruptly and looked out over the golf -course in a meditative way.</p> - -<p>“You managed pretty well, though,” he said presently -as he turned back to Stovebridge. “No one saw -you on your way here, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>The other shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No; if it wasn’t for that beastly cap I should feel -quite safe. But Merriwell suspects me on that account.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>38</span> -Marston’s beady eyes glittered.</p> - -<p>“Let him suspect!” he snapped angrily. “We’ll fix -that all right. It wouldn’t be safe for you to buy another, -but there’s nothing to prevent my doing so.”</p> - -<p>“Of course there isn’t!” Stovebridge exclaimed in -a tone of relief. “And you’ll do it?”</p> - -<p>Marston’s teeth snapped together.</p> - -<p>“I certainly will,” he declared. “I’d do more than -that to spite a Merriwell. Lend me your car and I’ll -go to Wilton right after lunch.”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge breathed a sigh of relief. How fortunate -he had confided in Marston. With the question -of the cap settled and Jim Hanlon sidetracked, -he would have nothing to fear. Dick Merriwell might -do his worst, but he could prove nothing.</p> - -<p>Marston arose to his feet, yawning.</p> - -<p>“Well, let’s toddle in and get something sustaining,” -he suggested. “I feel the need of a little bracer.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t forget to pick out a medium check,” Stovebridge -reminded, as they strolled through the reception -hall to the dining room beyond. “I said mine -was a little larger than the one he picked up, but if -you get it too pronounced, Bob Jennings will smell a -rat. He’s a bit doubtful now.”</p> - -<p>“Trust me,” Marston returned confidently.</p> - -<p>They settled themselves comfortably at a small table -near one of the windows, and a waiter hurried up.</p> - -<p>“Two Martinis—dry,” Marston said, unfolding his -napkin. “Bring them right away.”</p> - -<p>“Not any for me,” Stovebridge put in hastily. “I’ve -got to run this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, shucks! What’s one cocktail?” expostulated -the other. “Just put a little ginger into you.”</p> - -<p>But Stovebridge persisted in his refusal; already he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>39</span> -had taken considerably more stimulant than he felt -was wise. So when the cocktails came Marston drank -them both.</p> - -<p>While his friend was writing out the order, Stovebridge -glanced idly about the well-filled room. He -gave a slight start as his eyes met those of Dick Merriwell, -who was seated with his party three or four -tables away. The Yale man was looking at him with -a certain steady scrutiny that was a little disconcerting. -There was no gleam of friendliness in his dark eyes, -but rather a cold, steely glitter. His fine mouth was set -in a hard line, curving disdainfully at the corners, as -though he were regarding something beneath his contempt. -It was not a pleasant expression, and, despite -his belief that the other could really prove nothing, -Stovebridge could not help feeling a little uneasy.</p> - -<p>“Who are you staring at?”</p> - -<p>Marston’s drawling voice roused Stovebridge, and, -turning quickly, he looked at his friend.</p> - -<p>“Merriwell,” he breathed softly.</p> - -<p>“Bah!” snapped the other. “He can’t do anything. -We’ll put a spoke in his wheel. For goodness’ sake, -Brose, do brace up and forget it!”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge made an effort to do so, but all the -time he was eating lunch he had an uneasy feeling -that those cold eyes were still fixed upon him, and -it was only by the most determined exertion of will -power that he kept himself from looking again toward -the table where Roger Clingwood and his guests seemed -to be enjoying themselves so thoroughly.</p> - -<p>As they came out to the veranda after lunch, Roger -Clingwood pulled out his watch impatiently.</p> - -<p>“Almost two!” he exclaimed. “What in the world -is the matter with Layton?”</p> - -<p>He turned to a short, pleasant-faced, youngish-looking<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>40</span> -fellow who, also watch in hand, was looking anxiously -down the drive.</p> - -<p>“Heard anything of Charlie Layton, Niles?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“Not a thing,” the other answered petulantly. “I -can’t understand what’s delayed him. He promised to -be here soon after twelve, and the race was to be -pulled off at three. People are beginning to come -already.”</p> - -<p>“Sartoris is there to meet him, I believe,” Clingwood -remarked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and I tried just now to get him on the phone, -but couldn’t.”</p> - -<p>Jack Niles shut his watch with a snap and shoved it -back in his pocket irritably. He was extremely homely. -Every feature seemed to be either too large or too -small, or not placed right on his face; but for all that -there was something very attractive in his expression, -and in the straightforward, honest directness of his -brown eyes. His clothes were loud almost to eccentricity, -and it was quite evident that he was a thorough-going, -out-and-out sport.</p> - -<p>As he started to walk away, Roger Clingwood -caught his arm.</p> - -<p>“Oh, by the way, Jack,” he said suddenly, “I want -you to meet my friend Merriwell. Dick, this is -Jack Niles, to whose efforts is due the fact that we -still occasionally have athletic events at the club.”</p> - -<p>As Niles turned quickly, his hand outstretched, the -worried look on his face gave place to one of surprised -interest.</p> - -<p>“Not Dick Merriwell, of Yale?” he asked eagerly.</p> - -<p>Dick smiled as he took the other’s hand.</p> - -<p>“I happen to be,” he said quietly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>41</span> -He felt a sudden liking for this homely young fellow -with the honest eyes, who looked as though he -was square down to the very bone.</p> - -<p>“Well, say!” Niles exclaimed, as he gripped Dick’s -hand and worked it up and down like a pump handle. -“If this isn’t a little bit of all right. I’ve seen you -play ball, and I’ve seen you run, but I never had a -chance of shaking hands before. What are you doing -away out here?”</p> - -<p>“Touring with some friends of mine,” Dick answered -smiling. “I’d like you to meet them.”</p> - -<p>He introduced Buckhart, Tucker and Bigelow, and -for a few minutes they stood talking together.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what we’ll do if Layton throws us -down,” Niles said anxiously. “We’ve made so much -talk about the race, and there’ll be an awful mob here -to see it. Oh, there’s Sartoris! Now we’ll find out -something. Excuse me, will you?”</p> - -<p>Without waiting for a reply, he dashed down the -steps toward a car that had just driven up. Its occupant, -a tall, bare-headed fellow in tennis flannels, -sprang out, waving a yellow envelope in his hand.</p> - -<p>“He can’t get here until to-morrow,” he explained. -“Held up by a wreck on the road.”</p> - -<p>Niles took the telegram in silence, and, as he read it, -his face shadowed.</p> - -<p>“Well, what do you think of that?” he muttered, as -he crumpled it in his hand. “To-morrow! And look -at the bunch that’s here to-day, expecting to see something -good. Coming thicker every minute, too.”</p> - -<p>He glanced down the drive where several cars were -in sight, heading toward the clubhouse.</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t that drive you to the batty house!” he -went on. “I suppose it’s up to yours truly to get busy -and announce that there ‘won’t be no race.’”</p> - -<p>His eyes, full of an expression of whimsical chagrin,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>42</span> -roved slowly over the crowd which had hastily gathered -at the approach of Sartoris, until they rested on Dick -Merriwell’s face.</p> - -<p>The next moment a gleam of hope had leaped into -them, and Niles sprang up the steps to the Yale man’s -side.</p> - -<p>“Say, what’s the matter with your taking Layton’s -place, old fellow, and saving my rap?” he asked eagerly.</p> - -<p>Merriwell smiled a little.</p> - -<p>“It would be rather difficult to take his place,” he -said slowly. “Layton is one of the best milers in the -country, and it’s a long time since I’ve done any -running.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that be hanged!” exploded Niles. “You’re -too blamed modest. You can do it if you want to. -Come ahead, old fellow, and save me from making -an ass of myself by disappointing this crowd.”</p> - -<p>“When you put it that way, Niles, I can scarcely -refuse,” Dick smiled. “I’ll be very glad to do what -you want, only you mustn’t expect too much of me.”</p> - -<p>Jack Niles was overjoyed.</p> - -<p>“That’s bully!” he exclaimed. “You’ve helped me -out of a deuce of a hole and saved the day. It’s just my -luck to find a substitute as good or better than the -original.”</p> - -<p>Brose Stovebridge stood near, a slight sneer on his -face.</p> - -<p>“It’s lucky I’m not the one who didn’t show up,” -he drawled. “Merriwell seems to think such a lot of -this fellow Layton that I don’t suppose he could possibly -have been induced to run against him, if our -positions were reversed.”</p> - -<p>Apparently his words were intended for the man -next to him, but they were quite loud enough for the -Yale man to hear.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>43</span> -The latter turned and surveyed Stovebridge with a -cool, disconcerting glance.</p> - -<p>“I happen to have run against Layton several times, -Mr. Stovebridge,” he said quietly. “If he were here -to-day, I should be very glad to do so again. I hesitated -just now—for another reason.”</p> - -<p>To the guilty man, his meaning was obvious; and -though Stovebridge shrugged his shoulders with affected -indifference, his face flushed, and he made no -reply.</p> - -<p>“Come ahead, fellows, and get ready,” Niles broke -in briskly. “We’ve got just ten minutes to start on -time.”</p> - -<p>He took Dick’s arm and hustled him through to the -dressing room, where he hunted up running trunks, -shoes, and shirt; and in less than the allotted time, the -Yale man was ready for the contest.</p> - -<p>As they came out of the clubhouse and walked over -to the track, Merriwell felt a thrill of the old enthusiasm. -The well-kept track and the crowd of spectators -thronging both sides made his blood course more -swiftly and caused his eyes to sparkle.</p> - -<p>They went directly to the starting point, where Stovebridge -presently joined them. Niles, mounted on a -stand, megaphone in hand, waved his arm for silence. -When the hub-bub of talk and laughter had ceased he -put the instrument to his lips.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” he declaimed, “I have to announce that -Mr. Layton has been detained by a wreck and cannot -reach the club this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>A murmur of disappointment arose from the crowd, -which was quickly stilled by another motion from -Niles.</p> - -<p>“I have, however,” he went on, “secured an efficient -substitute in the person of Dick Merriwell, of Yale,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>44</span> -who has kindly consented to run in order that we -shall not be disappointed.”</p> - -<p>As he jumped to the ground, the quick round of -hearty applause, mingled with cheers, showed that -Merriwell’s name was not unknown. Then the buzz of -talk started up again with renewed vigor, as the -judges and timekeepers consulted with Niles and arranged -the details of the race.</p> - -<p>Dick stood a little to one side of the mark, talking -to Buckhart, whose face was aglow with enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>“Lick the stuffing out of the coyote, pard,” urged -Brad, in a low tone. “You can sure do it if you -try.”</p> - -<p>“No question of my trying, old fellow,” Merriwell -smiled. “There’s no use in going into a thing unless -you do your best! But they seem to think this fellow -is pretty good, and you know I’m out of practice.”</p> - -<p>“That don’t worry me a whole lot,” the Texan -grinned.</p> - -<p>“Say, Merriwell, come over here, will you?” Niles -called, standing near Stovebridge.</p> - -<p>“We’ll have to toss for positions,” he explained, as -Dick walked over to him. “The track is just a mile -in circumference, so that you’ll have to make one -complete circuit, and of course, the fellow on the inside -has a little the advantage.”</p> - -<p>He took a coin out of his pocket and sent it spinning -in the air.</p> - -<p>“Heads, or tails?”</p> - -<p>“Tails,” Dick said quickly.</p> - -<p>The other caught the coin deftly.</p> - -<p>“Heads it is,” he grinned. “You lose. Take your -places, gentlemen—Stovebridge, inside; Merriwell, -out.”</p> - -<p>Dick toed the mark, and his eyes wandered for an<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>45</span> -instant down the long line of eagerly watching men. -As he did so, he caught sight of the dark, sullen face -of Jim Hanlon <a name="glaring" id="glaring"></a><ins title="Original has 'glairng'">glaring</ins> at him from behind two of -the clubmen.</p> - -<p>“Still thinks I’m it, by the looks of him,” the Yale -man said to himself. “I must have a talk with him -when this is over.”</p> - -<p>Then he thrust the fellow out of his mind and -crouched for the start. Stovebridge was beside him, -vibrant and ready. The two timekeepers stood by the -mark, stop watches in hand. Niles stepped back a -pace and drew a small revolver from his pocket.</p> - -<p>“Are you ready?” he called in a clear voice.</p> - -<p>He raised the revolver above his head.</p> - -<p>“Set!”</p> - -<p>Both runners quivered slightly, as they waited with -every muscle tense the moment when they could shoot -forward down the track.</p> - -<p>The sharp crack of the pistol split the silence, and -like a flash both men leaped forward, to the accompaniment -of a bellow from the watching crowd, and flew -down the stretch of hard, dry cinders.</p> - -<p>Merriwell had made the better start and was slightly -ahead of the other man. Presently it was seen that -this lead was slowly increasing, and the spectators -cheered wildly as they observed it, for as a rule they -were an impartial lot and believed in shouting for the -best man. Besides they were grateful to the stranger -for having made the race possible.</p> - -<p>Almost <a name="imperceptibly" id="imperceptibly"></a><ins title="Original has 'imperceptible'">imperceptibly</ins> this lead increased. In spite -of his lack of practice, the Yale man was wonderfully -speedy and ran in almost perfect form, and with amazing -ease. His body was bent forward but slightly, -with his head held up naturally. He threw his legs -out well in front with a full easy stride, and brought -his feet down squarely, his thighs and knees thrown a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>46</span> -little forward. There was absolutely no lost motion. -His arms swung easily beside his body, and, with -every stride, seemed to help him along.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge ran well, but he had a bad trick of -swinging his arms back and forth across his body, -which retarded him slightly, and moreover, in his -haste to finish the stride, he bent his knee somewhat, -thus losing a fraction of an inch each time, which -would mount up considerably in the course of the -mile.</p> - -<p>The first quarter of a mile was made by Merriwell -in a fraction over a minute—almost sprinting time. -Stovebridge was barely two seconds longer. Then -both men seemed to settle down to a slightly easier gait, -for such speed could not be kept up for the entire distance, -and the second quarter took several seconds -longer.</p> - -<p>The excitement was intense. Men shoved and jostled -each other in their eagerness to get a good view; -some even ran out onto the track behind the runners. -There was no more talking and laughing. A tense -silence had fallen upon the crowd as they watched -breathlessly.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the Yale man was seen to stumble and almost -lose his footing. As he recovered his balance -with a tremendous effort, Stovebridge shot by him, -and a great sigh went up from the crowd.</p> - -<p>“He’s twisted his ankle!” gasped Jack Niles, his -fingers closing on Buckhart’s arm with unconscious -strength.</p> - -<p>The Texan made no reply. His face was set and a -little pale.</p> - -<p>The next instant Merriwell had recovered himself -and flashed on down the track with almost his former -speed. To most of the spectators there did not seem to -be anything the matter with him, but those who were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>47</span> -near enough to see his face, noticed the lines of pain -in it, and the great beads of perspiration which stood -out on his forehead.</p> - -<p>“By Jove, that’s plucky!” Niles muttered. “It’s -the nerviest thing I ever saw.”</p> - -<p>His keen eye had instantly taken in the situation. -In some way the Yale man had strained his ankle, but, -instead of giving up the race he was going to fight -it out to the finish.</p> - -<p>As Merriwell flashed over the three-quarter mile -mark, Stovebridge had a good twelve feet lead, but -was showing signs of exhaustion. His breath came -in gasps, the sweat poured down his face, and his -stride was perceptibly shorter.</p> - -<p>The Yale man, on the contrary, was in much better -condition, except for his left leg, which he seemed -trying to favor at each step. It was apparent to everyone, -by this time, that he was suffering tortures with -every stride, but he showed no signs of giving up. -Instead, to the amazement of all, he took a fresh -spurt and actually began to gain on his opponent.</p> - -<p>Slowly he crept up. Foot by foot the distance between -the two was lessened, until at length it was -reduced to a yard. But there was not enough time. -Already the finish was in sight, and the eager watchers -waited in strained silence the end of this amazing -race. Could the gamey fellow from Yale possibly -make up those three feet in the few seconds which -remained? They feared not, for almost without exception, -their sympathies were with the man who was -now showing such extraordinary pluck.</p> - -<p>There was a final spurt on the part of both men, -and then, almost in the last stride, Stovebridge flung -himself forward with uplifted arms, and breasted the -tape a fraction in advance of Dick.</p> - -<p>The Clover Club champion had won, but the resulting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>48</span> -applause was strangely feeble. There was -scarcely a man present who did not realize that Merriwell -was the better of the two.</p> - -<p>As Dick reeled across the line, he staggered and -a spasm of pain flashed into his face.</p> - -<p>Jack Niles caught him by the shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Quick, Buckhart!” he ripped out in his sharp, decisive -tones. “We must get him into the house and -look after that ankle. Good nerve, my boy—good -nerve!”</p> - -<p>Merriwell smiled faintly.</p> - -<p>“Well, I lost the race for you, Niles!” he said.</p> - -<p>“Lost be hanged!” snapped the other. “You’re the -gamest piece of work that ever came down the pike. -Why the deuce didn’t you stop when you twisted your -ankle that way?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t generally give up when I can still go ahead,” -Dick said quietly.</p> - -<p>“Well, you’ve got that foot of yours into a beautiful -condition,” Niles went on. “It’s beginning to -swell already. Here, sit down, while we take you -into the house.”</p> - -<p>He and Buckhart clasped hands and, lifting Merriwell -up between them, started slowly back toward the -clubhouse, the spectators straggling behind, discussing -the result with much interest.</p> - -<p>The two fellows carried Dick into the dressing -room, where he rested on a chair while they bathed -his ankle in cold water and then bandaged it as tightly -as they could to keep down the swelling.</p> - -<p>“How the mischief did you do it, pard?” Buckhart -asked, while this was being done.</p> - -<p>“I think I stepped on a small stone,” Dick answered -“At least it felt like that.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>49</span> -Niles looked up quickly.</p> - -<p>“A stone!” he exclaimed. “That’s impossible. I -walked over the track an hour before the race and it -was in perfect condition. It couldn’t have been a -stone.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it felt like one,” Dick smiled. “I can’t -swear to it.”</p> - -<p>Niles turned to one of the men who had acted as -timekeepers, and who was helping them with the bandage.</p> - -<p>“Say, Johnson, just take a run out to the track -and see if you can see anything of a stone, will you?” -he asked. “I want to find out about this.”</p> - -<p>Johnson was back in a few minutes and reported -that he could not find even a pebble on the track. He -had questioned the dumb fellow, Hanlon, who was -raking up near the clubhouse, and found that he had -not yet touched anything on the track.</p> - -<p>“I must have been mistaken, then,” Dick said lightly. -“It was just pure carelessness.”</p> - -<p>He took a shower and then dressed and limped into -the reception hall with Buckhart and Niles, who had -waited for him.</p> - -<p>A group of men were talking in the centre of the -room, and Niles stepped aside for a moment to speak -to one of them, leaving Merriwell and the Texan -standing close beside one of the big windows which -opened on the veranda.</p> - -<p>Brose Stovebridge was lounging in a wicker chair -just outside, and as Dick noticed him he saw a look -of eager interest flash into the fellow’s eyes, which -were turned toward the drive.</p> - -<p>A moment later Fred Marston came in sight, walking -rapidly along the veranda, and presently stopped -beside his friend’s chair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>50</span> -“Well, did you get it?” the latter asked eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Sure, I did,” returned Marston with a smile.</p> - -<p>He pulled a small parcel wrapped in brown paper -out of his pocket and handed it to Stovebridge, who -almost snatched it out of his hand.</p> - -<p>“Ah,” he breathed in a tone of relief. “I guess that -will settle his hash. He can suspect all he wants——”</p> - -<p>He broke off abruptly as he turned his head and -looked into Dick Merriwell’s cool, slightly smiling -eyes. A sudden rush of color flamed into his face, -and, with a quick drawn breath, he half rose from -his chair.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” asked Marston.</p> - -<p>Then, following the direction of the other’s -<a name="fascinated2" id="fascinated2"></a><ins title="Original has 'facinated'">fascinated</ins> -gaze, he too, saw the Yale man, and scowled -fiercely.</p> - -<p>“Come in and let’s get a drink,” he said abruptly. -“I need a bracer.”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge got up a little unsteadily, and the two -vanished in the direction of the buffet.</p> - -<p>Dick looked significantly at the Texan.</p> - -<p>“What do you think of that, Brad?” he asked -quietly.</p> - -<p>“Huh!” grunted Buckhart contemptuously. “The -onery varmit’s sure a whole lot shy of you, pard. If -he isn’t the coyote you’re looking for, I’ll eat my -hat. You hear me gently warble!”</p> - -<p>Merriwell gazed thoughtfully out of the window.</p> - -<p>“I wonder what was in that package,” he mused. -“And I wonder too, where this Marston comes in.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon he’s in the same class as Stovebridge,” -the Texan said emphatically. “I wouldn’t trust him -as far as I could throw a yearling by the tail.”</p> - -<p>Jack Niles came up briskly at that moment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>51</span> -“Well, fellows, let’s make ourselves comfortable -outdoors,” he said. “You don’t want to stand on that -leg of yours more than you can help for a while, old -chap.”</p> - -<p>“It’s feeling pretty comfortable just now,” Dick returned, -with a smile. “Your bandages are all to the -good.”</p> - -<p>At the same time he was not sorry to sit down in -one of the big wicker chairs, soon becoming the centre -of a laughing, joking crowd of men, all bent on showing -their admiration for the Yale athlete who had -given such an exhibition of nerve and pluck as few of -them had ever seen.</p> - -<p>Merriwell thoroughly enjoyed himself, and was so -taken up with the discussion and talk that he had no -time to give to the problem which he had set himself -to solve. At length, as the afternoon wore on, the -fellows began to drop away. One by one, or in parties -of two or three, they left the club in motor cars, runabouts, -or on horseback, and by six o’clock there were -only about a dozen left on the veranda, who were -either stopping at the club or taking dinner there.</p> - -<p>Then Dick remembered Jim Hanlon, and turned to -Buckhart who sat beside him.</p> - -<p>“Say, Brad,” he said in a low tone. “Do you think -you could find that dumb fellow and bring him into -the clubhouse? You know I wanted to straighten -him out about who ran over the little girl. He seems -to have an idea that I did it.”</p> - -<p>The Texan got up readily.</p> - -<p>“Sure thing. He ought to be around somewheres—maybe -in the kitchen.”</p> - -<p>It was ten minutes before he came back with the -announcement that Hanlon was not to be found. They -had told him in the kitchen that the fellow usually -went home at six o’clock.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>52</span> -“Well, it doesn’t matter much,” Dick said. “I’ll -probably see him to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Very soon afterward they went in to dinner. Niles -and two other men joined them, and they made a jolly -party around a big table in the middle of the room, -which was not so empty after all, quite a number of -people having driven out to the club especially to take -dinner there. Stovebridge and Marston sat at the -same table they had occupied at lunch, and Dick noticed -that both seemed to be hitting it up pretty freely.</p> - -<p>The evening being a little chilly, they did not return -to the veranda after dinner, but made themselves -comfortable in the reception hall, where a fire -had been lit in the great stone fireplace.</p> - -<p>Presently Merriwell remembered that he wanted to -call up the Hanlon farm to find out about the little -girl, and, on inquiring, found that the telephone was -in a small room opening out of the hall.</p> - -<p>He had no trouble in getting the number, and Mrs. -Hanlon herself came to the telephone. She seemed -very much worried and nervous, and told that the -doctor had been there almost all the afternoon. The -child’s arm had been broken and her head badly cut, -and, from the symptoms, the physician was afraid -that there was some internal trouble.</p> - -<p>“Poor little kid!” Dick muttered as he hung up the -receiver. “I certainly shall do my best to show up the -brute who is responsible for that. He ought to get the -maximum penalty, and if she doesn’t pull through I -shouldn’t like to be in his shoes.”</p> - -<p>He opened a door which led directly outside, and -stepped out on the deserted veranda. It was a perfect -night, still and rather cool for that time of year, and, -as he looked up at the glittering stars, he drew a long -breath of pure oxygen.</p> - -<p>All at once he heard a stealthy footfall behind him,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>53</span> -and, half turning, he caught a glimpse of a crouching -figure close upon him.</p> - -<p>As he leaped instinctively to one side he felt the -impact of a spent blow on his back. Something sharp -pricked his skin.</p> - -<p>He whirled around swiftly, only to see a shadowy -figure leap from the end of the veranda and disappear -into the darkness.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>54</span> -</div> -<h2 id="v">CHAPTER V.<br /> -<span>THE STRUGGLE IN THE DARK.</span></h2> - - -<p>Like a flash Dick was after him, but as he reached -the edge of the veranda, he realized the futility of -pursuing the would-be assailant. The fellow, whoever -he was, evidently knew the ground thoroughly, -and, handicapped as the Yale man was with his bandaged -ankle, it would be a waste of time to try and -catch him.</p> - -<p>He walked slowly back into the light that streamed -out through one of the windows, and slipped off his -coat.</p> - -<p>Just between the shoulders was a clean cut about -twelve or fourteen inches long, evidently made by an -extremely sharp instrument.</p> - -<p>The Yale man gave a low whistle.</p> - -<p>“That fellow was out for blood,” he murmured. -“That’s about as close a call as I’ve ever had. I -wonder——”</p> - -<p>Putting his hand up to his back, he found that both -shirt and undershirt had been cut through, though not -so badly, and that there was a tiny cut in the skin -just between the shoulder blades.</p> - -<p>Thoughtfully he slipped into his coat again.</p> - -<p>“That couldn’t have been Stovebridge,” he mused. -“Much as the fellow hates me, I don’t believe he would -deliberately attempt murder.”</p> - -<p>He glanced through the window into the reception-hall. -Neither the tall athlete nor his friend Marston -were in the room.</p> - -<p>Dick shook his head slowly.</p> - -<p>“Just the same, it wasn’t him. It must have been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>55</span> -that dumb fellow. He’s been looking at me all day -as though he would like to knife me, and now he’s -tried it. I wish I could get hold of him to convince -him that he’s on the wrong track.”</p> - -<p>Just now, however, the Yale man was more troubled -as to how he could get up to his room and slip into -his spare coat without attracting attention by passing -through the reception hall. He saw nothing to be -gained by letting the clubmen know what had happened. -They could do no good now, and Roger Clingwood -would be worried to death and tremendously -mortified at the thought of such a thing happening -to his guest.</p> - -<p>He remembered having noticed a small stairway -leading from the second floor straight down to an outside -door which Clingwood told him opened on the -drive at the other end of the house—a door that was -occasionally used by members who wanted to go directly -to their rooms.</p> - -<p>This door might possibly be unlocked. At any -rate it was worth trying.</p> - -<p>Slipping around the house, he found to his relief -that the door yielded to his touch. In a moment he was -upstairs, and had taken the coat from his bag and -slipped into it. Then he threw the other on a chair -and went downstairs again.</p> - -<p>No one made any comment on his rather long absence, -and presently they all adjourned to the billiard -room. Not wanting to tax his ankle, Dick did not -play but sat watching the others, and by ten o’clock, -he was so sleepy that he could scarcely keep his eyes -open.</p> - -<p>Niles noticed this as he stood beside the Yale man -watching Buckhart run off a string.</p> - -<p>“Say, old man, you look as if you were about ready -for your downey,” he grinned.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>56</span> -Dick smiled.</p> - -<p>“I am,” he confessed. “Sitting around this way, -doing nothing, always sends me off.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t feel any too wide awake myself,” the other -remarked. “As soon as we finish this game, we’ll strap -up that ankle of yours, and then all of us can hit the -pillow.”</p> - -<p>The others being of the same mind, they presently -put up the cues. The Yale man’s ankle was treated -with iodine, freshly bandaged, and everyone trouped -upstairs.</p> - -<p>The entire second floor of the clubhouse was divided -into a series of small single rooms opening off -a long hall. Most of the club members who stayed -there regularly, had quarters on the third floor, where -the rooms were larger and where there would be less -need to shift around to accommodate a large number -of guests.</p> - -<p>The Yale men had been assigned four of these rooms -nearest the stairs, and there were only two other -rooms on that floor occupied, one by Roger Clingwood, -who was spending the night there on account -of his guests, and the other by a friend of Jack -Niles.</p> - -<p>Clingwood went before them, switching on the lights -in each room, and, having seen that they were provided -with everything, he bade them good night.</p> - -<p>Bouncer Bigelow betrayed no interest in anything, -save his <a name="overweening" id="overweening"></a><ins title="Original has 'overweaning'">overweening</ins> desire to get to bed, and, closing -his door at once, he proceeded to disrobe in haste.</p> - -<p>Tucker, however, wide awake and lively as usual, -skipped into Buckhart’s room where Dick had stopped -for a minute’s talk.</p> - -<p>“Well, how does the sleuthing come on?” he chirped, -as he dropped down on the bed. “What clues has the -great Sherlock Holmes unearthed?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>57</span> -“Not as many as I’d like, Thomas,” Dick smiled. -“While I’m morally certain that Stovebridge is the -man we’re looking for, I can’t quite prove it.”</p> - -<p>Tucker’s eyes widened.</p> - -<p>“Whew!” he whistled softly. “Stovebridge, eh? The -great and only distance runner. Keep it up, Richard. -There isn’t a man about these parts I’d rather see -nailed. He thinks he’s just about the warmest baby -that ever chased over a cinder path. You ought to -have heard him blowing around after the race this -afternoon, when anybody with the brains of a hen could -see that you were the better man. It made me sick.”</p> - -<p>Dick smiled. “He won fairly enough; but I would -like to know how that stone got on the track—for it -was a stone without any doubt.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe that flabby, rum-soaked friend of his put it -there,” suggested Tucker seriously. “He’s another -one I’d like to <a name="sock" id="sock"></a><ins title="Original has 'soak'">sock</ins> in the jaw.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell’s eyes twinkled as he got up and moved -slowly toward the door.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with you, Tommy?” he asked. -“Seems to me you’re awfully savage to-night.”</p> - -<p>“It’s my nature,” Tucker returned plaintively. “I -really have the sweetest disposition you ever saw, but -there are some men that rile me like a sour gooseberry.”</p> - -<p>He gave a sigh and dropped back on the bed at full -length with the air of one who was comfortably settling -himself for a long stay.</p> - -<p>“Now, look ahere, little one,” Buckhart said firmly, -as he beheld these preparations, “you needn’t think -<a name="youre" id="youre"></a><ins title="Original has 'your'">you’re</ins> going to settle down there for one of your talk -fests. I’m going to bed, and I reckon you’d better -hike for your own bunk. You hear me!”</p> - -<p>Tucker arose with an injured look on his freckled -face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>58</span> -“I’m thankful I haven’t the inhospitable nature of -some people,” he remarked, as he edged toward the -door. “I’ve heard much about the free, open-handed -nature of Westerners, but the only one I ever had the -misfortune to get real intimate with, has such a mean, -envious, grudging——”</p> - -<p>He dodged through the door just ahead of the -Texan’s shoe, and finished his sentence in the corridor:</p> - -<p>“—— unaccommodating disposition, that he must -be the exception that proves the rule.”</p> - -<p>“Go to bed, you little runt,” Buckhart grinned. -“You sure buzz around worse than a mosquito. Go to -bed before I lay violent hands on you.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you dare put your hands on me,” defied -Tommy. “I’ll chaw you up if you do. You hear me -gently——”</p> - -<p>The Westerner made a dash at him, and the little -fellow skipped into his room and snapped the key.</p> - -<p>Dick, who had been watching these proceedings -with a smile, now walked down the hall to the room -next to Buckhart’s and, stepping in, closed the door -mechanically behind him.</p> - -<p>Then, as he groped for the electric light button, he -suddenly remembered that, when he had stepped into -Brad’s room, he had left his own light turned on. -In fact, it had been burning ever since Roger Clingwood -had come upstairs with them.</p> - -<p>This was rather peculiar. He remembered distinctly -that there were two globes, one on each side of the -dressing-table; it seemed impossible that they should -both burn out at the same time. Some one must have -turned the switch. And the annoying part of it was -that he did not know where that switch was. He -turned to open the hall door and let in a little light<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>59</span> -from outside, and as he did so he suddenly realized -that there was some one else in the room.</p> - -<p>Instantly he held his breath and listened. The sound -of guarded breathing was unmistakable; some one was -there, and, what was even more unpleasant, that some -one was between him and the door.</p> - -<p>For an instant Dick stood like a statue. Could this -be Jack Niles, or one of the other members of the -club playing a trick on him? It did not seem likely, -and yet who else——</p> - -<p>Jim Hanlon!</p> - -<p>As the thought flashed suddenly into his brain, it -must be confessed that his heart began to beat a little -unevenly though the hand which reached out and -began to grope along the wall for the switch was perfectly -steady.</p> - -<p>He must find that button. With the light on, he -had not the slightest fear of his assailant, armed -though he probably was. But in the <a name="pitch" id="pitch"></a><ins title="Original has 'pitchy'">pitch</ins> darkness -of the room the other had an immense advantage of -which, the Yale man’s experience earlier in the evening -warned him, the fellow would not hesitate to avail -himself. His fingers searched the wall swiftly, but -in vain.</p> - -<p>Then a board creaked softly near the door. The man -was coming toward him.</p> - -<p>Merriwell at once <a name="abandoned" id="abandoned"></a><ins title="Original has 'abandoend'">abandoned</ins> his search for the -switch and turned to face the intruder. His back was -toward the wall, and he could not see his hand before -his face. There was a little satisfaction in the thought -that the other man was probably no better off.</p> - -<p>Then the unpleasant recollection came to him of -having heard that when a person has lost one or more -senses the remaining ones become more keen and -powerful. It was possible that this fellow could see<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>60</span> -in the dark, or at least, distinguish enough to give him -a great advantage.</p> - -<p>Very softly the stealthy sound came on; the other -had apparently removed his shoes and was walking in -his stocking feet. The Yale man pictured to himself -the attitude the fellow would take. His head and -shoulders would be bent in a crouching position, the -right hand, holding the knife, extended a little, with -the point out. With this in mind, he leaned forward -a little himself, his feet braced, both arms outstretched -before him, and waited.</p> - -<p>It seemed an interminable time before his keen eye -saw what seemed to be a shadow looming up not a foot -away. Without an instant’s hesitation, he plunged forward -and made a beautiful flying tackle. As he had -hoped, he caught the fellow fairly about the knees and, -with a crash which shook the room, they went down -together.</p> - -<p>Like a flash, Dick twisted around and made a grab -for the unknown’s right wrist. In the darkness he -missed it, but managed to get a grip on the arm just -below the elbow.</p> - -<p>Then followed a brief but desperate struggle. The -fellow writhed and twisted and did his utmost to -break away and free the hand which held the knife, -but, having once closed with his enemy, Merriwell -had little trouble in pinning him down.</p> - -<p>He had scarcely done so when the hall door was -flung open and Buckhart stood on the threshold, -Tucker just behind him.</p> - -<p>“Suffering coyotes!” the Texan exclaimed as his -eyes fell upon the two men in close embrace on the -floor.</p> - -<p>Then he pushed the electric light button, which -was close beside the door, and the room was flooded -with brilliancy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>61</span> -“Come in, Brad,” Dick said quietly, “and close the -door.”</p> - -<p>Buckhart and Tucker both stepped inside, the latter -shutting the door after him.</p> - -<p>“Kindly relieve this gentleman of his sticker, one of -you,” came again in Merriwell’s even tones.</p> - -<p>To hear him, one would never have supposed that -he had just been engaged in a struggle for his life.</p> - -<p>The fellow clung desperately to the long, keen knife, -but the big Texan seized his wrist with a grip of -iron, and the next moment the weapon clattered to the -floor, being at once secured by Tucker.</p> - -<p>Merriwell sprang lightly to his feet, and his assailant -followed his example more slowly and stood sullenly -eying the three men.</p> - -<p>It was Jim Hanlon.</p> - -<p>“The miserable snake in the grass!” roared the -Texan, his great fists clenched and his eyes flashing -fire. “He ought to be thrashed within an inch of his -life, and I’m going to do it!”</p> - -<p>Dick put a detaining hand on his friend’s arm.</p> - -<p>“Wait a minute, Brad,” he said quietly. “Don’t be -in such a hurry. This fellow is only doing what he -thinks is right. I want to talk to him.”</p> - -<p>He took a step forward and stood for an instant -looking steadily at Hanlon.</p> - -<p>“You can understand what I am saying, can’t you?” -he asked presently.</p> - -<p>The other nodded sullenly.</p> - -<p>“You came here to-night to kill me because you -thought I was the one who ran over your sister?” -Dick queried.</p> - -<p>The deaf mute made an emphatic gesture of assent, -and his black eyes flashed.</p> - -<p>Merriwell continued to eye the other steadily.</p> - -<p>“I did not do it,” he said quietly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>62</span> -A look of scornful disbelief lit up Hanlon’s sombre -eyes.</p> - -<p>“Listen to me,” said Dick slowly, “and I will tell -you what happened this morning. My friends and -I were driving to the club from Wilton. At the curve -we saw something in the road, and stopped. When -I got out I found that it was a little girl, unconscious -and bleeding from a great gash in her forehead. I -carried her into the farmhouse and found that she belonged -there. She was not dead at the time, but badly -hurt, and the doctor was sent for at once——”</p> - -<p>He stopped abruptly. The dumb youth was searching -frantically in his pocket for something; his mouth -was trembling and his eyes filled with a wild eagerness.</p> - -<p>Dick stepped over to a small desk and took out a -sheet of paper, marked with the club letterhead, which -he handed to Hanlon.</p> - -<p>“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly.</p> - -<p>The fellow snatched it from him and, turning to the -dressing table, rested it on the polished surface while -he scrawled a brief sentence. Then he thrust the -paper into Dick’s hands.</p> - -<p>“Not killed—is that true?”</p> - -<p>The Yale man looked up from the paper.</p> - -<p>“Perfectly true,” he said. “She is alive now. I -telephoned to Mrs. Hanlon this evening and found that -she was alive, though in a very critical condition.”</p> - -<p>The other took the paper and wrote again.</p> - -<p>“Will she die?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” Merriwell said simply, as he read -the question.</p> - -<p>Jim Hanlon seemed to be in an agony of indecision. -His hands clenched and unclenched and the slender, -brown fingers twitching nervously. All the time his -glittering black eyes were fixed fiercely on the -Yale man’s face as if he were trying to plumb the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>63</span> -depths of the other’s soul and read his very thoughts. -Finally he reached out, took the paper from Merriwell’s -hand, scrawled a sentence and gave it back -again.</p> - -<p>“If you didn’t run over her, who did?” was what -Dick read.</p> - -<p>As he raised his eyes again to Hanlon’s face, the -Yale man felt a thrill of pity go through him at the -thought of what this fellow must be suffering. He -had also a distinct feeling of admiration for the manner -in which the mute was persevering in the face of all -obstacles in his search for the man who had been -responsible for his little sister’s injuries.</p> - -<p>Whether Dick approved of the other’s primitive -method of taking the law into his own hands was another -matter. Though the Yale man’s temper was -under perfect control, it was still alive, and there -had been a time when he might have done just what -this dumb boy was trying to do. It was not strange, -then, that there should be a certain bond of sympathy -between the two.</p> - -<p>“I am not sure,” he said, handing the paper back -to Hanlon. “I have been trying all day to find out.”</p> - -<p>The other wrote hastily and returned the scrawl.</p> - -<p>“Who do you think it is?”</p> - -<p>Merriwell hesitated. The ferocity had quite gone -from the boy’s face, and its place been taken by a -look of intense pleading. The Yale man wondered -whether it would be right for him to give voice to his -suspicions. And yet, they were more than mere suspicions. -In his mind there was no doubt whatever that -Stovebridge was the guilty man, but the difficulty was -to get absolute proof.</p> - -<p>As he watched the play of emotions on the mobile -face of the lad before him, a sudden thought leaped -into Dick’s brain which made his eyes sparkle and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>64</span> -brought a half smile to his lips. What a solution that -would be—to make this fellow whom Stovebridge -had fooled and played with the means of bringing -the clubman to justice!</p> - -<p>“I think it is Stovebridge,” he said aloud; “but I am -not sure. I want you to find out the truth. Can you -read the lip talk at a distance—say at fifty feet?”</p> - -<p>Hanlon nodded emphatically.</p> - -<p>“Good! Well, this is what I want you to do. Stovebridge -and this Marston are great pals, and I believe -Marston knows all about the accident. They are likely -to talk it over to-morrow—probably on the veranda; -for Marston always sits there. Of course, they would -not talk loud enough for any one sitting near them -to hear, but they would never suspect you, if you -were out raking the drive. Yet you could read their -lips and understand. You get my meaning?”</p> - -<p>There was a look of admiration in the boy’s eyes as -he nodded.</p> - -<p>“You’ve sure got a head on your shoulders, pard,” -the big Texan said enthusiastically. “That’s a jim -dandy scheme.”</p> - -<p>Dick only smiled and looked at Hanlon.</p> - -<p>“I will fix it so that you will be put to work on -the drive in the morning,” he said. “And you know -what to do. If they say enough to betray themselves, -write it down and come to me with it. I’ll do the -rest.”</p> - -<p>The dumb fellow nodded emphatically. The dark -eyes were full of a keen intelligence as he looked at the -Yale man.</p> - -<p>“Well, I think that’s about all we’ve got to say to-night,” -the latter remarked, after a thoughtful pause. -“It’s pretty late, and you’d better be getting home.”</p> - -<p>Still the other hesitated, and a flush slowly mounted<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>65</span> -into his tanned face. Then he took the paper and -wrote two words on it.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell smiled a little.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s all right,” he said quietly. “You thought -you were doing the right thing.”</p> - -<p>He opened the door and stepped out into the hall, -the fellow following him. They went down the narrow -flight of stairs to the door which opened onto -the drive—a door that Dick found had been left unlocked. -With a brief gesture of farewell, the dumb -man vanished into the darkness. Merriwell turned the -key and came back to his room, a look of satisfaction -on his face.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>66</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="vi">CHAPTER VI.<br /> -<span>DICK MERRIWELL WINS.</span></h2> - - -<p>About ten o’clock next morning Brose Stovebridge -and his friend Marston were sitting together in the -latter’s favorite corner of the Clover Club veranda.</p> - -<p>Considering the crowd of the day before, the place -seemed deserted. One man, absorbed in the morning -paper, lounged at the far end of the veranda, and a -foursome was just teeing off on the links across the -drive; but otherwise there was no one in sight.</p> - -<p>Presently the deaf mute, shouldering a rake, came -around the corner of the house and began to rake up -the roadway.</p> - -<p>Fred Marston yawned.</p> - -<p>“Deuced dull this morning,” he drawled.</p> - -<p>“Little early yet for any one to be around,” Stovebridge -returned absently.</p> - -<p>He was dressed much as he had been the day before, -except that he wore a cloth cap of medium black -and white check, obviously new.</p> - -<p>“Cap worked to a charm, didn’t it?” Marston remarked -after a moment’s pause. “I saw Merriwell -taking it in when we drove up, and it stumped him, -all right. He’d be surprised to learn that I bought it -yesterday afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s got him guessing all right,” the other answered. -“He may suspect what he likes, but he can’t -prove anything on me now.”</p> - -<p>Despite the athlete’s assumption of nonchalance, -there was an underlying note of anxiety in his voice -which Marston seemed to notice.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with you, anyway?” he asked in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>67</span> -a peevish tone. “You ought to be chipper as a lark, -and yet I swear you’ve got something on your mind.”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge glanced quickly around, but there was -no one within hearing distance.</p> - -<p>“I can’t help worrying about the girl,” he said in a -low voice. “I heard this morning that the doctor was -there all night. They’re afraid of internal complications.”</p> - -<p>“That’s too bad, of course,” Marston remarked, -without any particular feeling in his voice. “But I -wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. You’re safe, no matter -what happens.”</p> - -<p>“But if she should die, there’ll be a rigid investigation,” -Stovebridge said slowly. “You can’t tell what -they might unearth. The idea makes me cursed nervous.”</p> - -<p>“For goodness’ sake, don’t borrow trouble!” the -other said sharply. “If you keep on going around -with that long face some one will begin to smell a rat. -All you’ve got to do is to sit tight and say nothing. -They can’t prove anything on you if you only throw a -good bluff.”</p> - -<p>Neither of them gave a thought to the dumb youth -who was raking the drive some forty feet away. But -had Stovebridge seen the ferocious glare in the dark -eyes which were furtively watching him, he would -have been more than disturbed—he would have been -seriously alarmed.</p> - -<p>Marston yawned again and stretched himself lazily.</p> - -<p>“Wish somebody would come around so we could -get up a little poker game,” he remarked. “This sitting -here doing nothing is deadly dull.”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge arose to his feet with sudden resolution.</p> - -<p>“Get your clubs and let’s go around the nine hole -course,” he suggested. “It will do you good.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>68</span> -“No thanks,” Marston drawled. “I never by any -chance enjoy doing the things that are good for me, and -you know I hate golf. Toddle along, Brose, and I’ll -wait here until somebody comes around that has a -sensible idea of amusement.”</p> - -<p>Stovebridge shrugged his shoulders resignedly.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll have to do it alone, then,” he said as he -started for the dressing room for his clubs.</p> - -<p>When he returned, a few minutes later, Jim Hanlon -had disappeared.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you going to take a caddy?” Marston inquired -as his friend crossed the drive to the first tee.</p> - -<p>“No; I’ve only got a few clubs. I can manage -without one.”</p> - -<p>Marston watched him drive off with a tolerant -smile, and when Stovebridge had disappeared over a -knoll, he got up and lounged through the reception -hall to the buffet.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge was not playing in good form at all. -He drove wretchedly, his brassy shots were impossible, -and even his putting worse than he had ever known it -to be before. Consequently by the time he had holed -in at the fifth green with a score greater by fourteen -than ever before, he was in a furious rage and cursed -the clubs, the balls, the course—everything but himself.</p> - -<p>With an effort he pulled himself together and made -a fair drive from the fifth tee. The course was rather -winding and along one side was a thick wood, which -had been left quite untouched when the links were laid -out.</p> - -<p>As he followed the ball he saw that the wind had -taken it close to the trees, if not in amongst them, -and he cursed fiercely again.</p> - -<p>When he came up, however, he found that it lay -about six feet from the edge of the wood, and, with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>69</span> -an exclamation of satisfaction, he took his cleek out -of the bag and swung it once or twice over his -shoulder.</p> - -<p>His back was toward the trees, and he did not see -the figure which crept stealthily out of the underbrush.</p> - -<p>The next instant there was a rush behind him, -something struck him on the back, and, taken by surprise, -the clubman lost his footing and fell, with Jim -Hanlon on top of him, clutching his windpipe with all -the strength in his slim, muscular fingers.</p> - -<p>After the first, momentary shock of surprise, Stovebridge -struggled desperately, finally succeeding in tearing -the choking fingers from his throat and struggling -to his feet. For a moment he stood silent, his breath -coming in gasps and his eyes full of a great fear, as -<a name="he" id="he"></a><ins title="Orignal has 'he he'">he</ins> -faced the crouching figure before him.</p> - -<p>Then, without warning, the clubman snatched up the -iron-headed cleek and, springing forward, struck the -other a terrific blow over the head.</p> - -<p>Hanlon reeled and collapsed in a silent heap on the -ground, blood smearing his forehead.</p> - -<p>For a full minute Stovebridge stood as if turned to -stone. His face was white as chalk, as he gazed in -horror-stricken fascination at the silent thing before -him.</p> - -<p>Then he passed one shaking hand across his forehead -in a dazed manner.</p> - -<p>“What have I done?” he muttered in a strange voice. -“What have I done?”</p> - -<p>His eyes traveled slowly to the blood-stained cleek, -and with a shudder he hurled it from him into the -woods.</p> - -<p>“I’ve killed him!” he gasped hoarsely. “What shall -I do? Where shall I go?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>70</span> -Suddenly he raised his head and listened intently. -Was that the sound of voices coming from behind the -hill yonder? They must not find him here. He must -fly somewhere—anywhere to get away from that horror -on the ground whose ghastly half-closed eyes -seemed to be watching him.</p> - -<p>In a panic of fear he snatched up his golf bag and, -without a backward glance, sprang into the woods and -disappeared.</p> - -<p>Presently the crashing of the flying man through the -undergrowth died away and all was still. A gray -squirrel poked his head out of the bushes and, sighting -the huddled heap, fled with chatterings of alarm. -Then came the distant sound of talk and laughter from -beyond the hill, and the next moment a small, white -sphere came sailing through the air and landed with a -thud on the turf close to the body of Jim Hanlon.</p> - -<p>It was as though the thing had roused him, for with -a low moan he stirred uneasily and opened his eyes.</p> - -<p>Following the thud of running feet, some one knelt -beside him and raised his head, and the half-conscious -boy found himself gazing into Dick Merriwell’s eyes, -full of compassion and concern.</p> - -<p>“Who did it, Jim?” he asked quickly.</p> - -<p>Then he suddenly remembered.</p> - -<p>“Was it Stovebridge?” he questioned eagerly.</p> - -<p>Hanlon nodded weakly.</p> - -<p>“Which way did he go?”</p> - -<p>The dumb boy shook his head.</p> - -<p>“You don’t know?” Dick said disappointedly. “Did -you find out anything? Is he the one who ran over -Amy?”</p> - -<p>Hanlon nodded, and his eyes took on a faint gleam -of rage.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>71</span> -“What’s happened?” asked Jack Niles as he hurried -up.</p> - -<p>Then he saw the boy’s face.</p> - -<p>“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “Somebody hit him! -What cur would do a thing like that?”</p> - -<p>The Yale man looked up at him, and his dark eyes -were cold and icy.</p> - -<p>“Our friend Stovebridge is the man,” he said in a -tense voice.</p> - -<p>“What?” Niles cried in utter amazement. “Stovebridge! -The cowardly hound! But what reason——”</p> - -<p>“I rather think it was because Hanlon found that -Stovebridge was the man who ran over his sister,” -Dick explained quietly. “They must have had an altercation, -and this is the result.”</p> - -<p>Overcome with amazement, Jack Niles listened to -Merriwell’s brief explanation; and when the Yale man -had finished the other’s face was dark with rage. Roger -Clingwood had come up with Buckhart and Tucker in -time to hear it.</p> - -<p>“The scoundrel!” he exclaimed. “I’ll have him run -out of the club for this.”</p> - -<p>“Out of the club and into jail!” <a name="supplemented2" id="supplemented2"></a><ins title="Original has 'supplimented'">supplemented</ins> Niles -fiercely. “The child may die at any moment, I hear.”</p> - -<p>“The thing is to catch him,” Clingwood said anxiously. -“No doubt after this, he’s run away.”</p> - -<p>Jim Hanlon staggered to his feet with Dick supporting -him.</p> - -<p>“I think I can catch him,” the Yale man said quietly. -“Look after Hanlon, will you, Brad.”</p> - -<p>Buckhart stepped over and took the dumb boy’s arm, -and without a word Merriwell turned and sprang into -the woods, Niles following close at his heels.</p> - -<p>Almost at once he found the bloody cleek and, a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>72</span> -few feet farther on, came upon the bag of golf sticks, -which Stovebridge had thrown aside in his haste. Then, -with what seemed to Niles almost superhuman skill, -the Yale man picked up the trail of the fleeing scoundrel, -and followed it on a run. His lame ankle was -forgotten; he betrayed not the slightest limp.</p> - -<p>To one of Dick’s training, trailing was a comparatively -easy matter in the woods, where broken twigs, -bruised leaves, and bent branches of the bushes marked -the way clearly. But when they emerged from among -the trees to the close cropped sward of the links again, -he scarcely lessened his speed. It seemed as though -he knew almost by intuition which way the man had -gone.</p> - -<p>Very soon Niles fell behind. For all of his condition -he was beginning to be winded, while his companion -showed no signs whatever of even hurried -breathing.</p> - -<p>Rapidly the distance between them increased as -Merriwell forged ahead, and presently he vanished over -a high knoll, leaving Niles to plod on alone, gasping -and breathless, but determined not to give up.</p> - -<p>At last he reached the summit and there he paused -with an exclamation of satisfaction.</p> - -<p>A perfectly straight stretch of green was spread out -before him. It was over a mile in length, and by -far the longest hole of the course. Though there were -several slight undulations, it was for the most part -quite level, being broken here and there with grassy -bunkers placed to make the hole more difficult.</p> - -<p>About half way down the stretch a party of golfers -had stopped their play and were staring in astonishment -at the strange sight of two young fellows tearing -over the grass as hard as they could run. The -one in advance was Stovebridge, who ran desperately<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>73</span> -as though his life depended on it. His face was white -and set, his breathing labored, his eyes full of a great -fear.</p> - -<p>A hundred yards behind him Dick Merriwell was -covering the ground at an amazing speed. Apparently -unhampered by golfing clothes or bandaged ankle, he -ran lightly and easily as though on the cinder track. -It seemed to the excited Niles on the hill top that -he almost skimmed over the ground like a bird.</p> - -<p>“Jove, what running!” he cried aloud. “Oh, I wish -I had a watch! I never saw anything like it on the -track. There can’t be eighty yards between them -now; he’s gained twenty in a couple of minutes. Stove -must be getting winded. There! What a jump! He -took that bunker like a bird. Stove had to climb over -it. What a hurdler he must be! Another five yards -gained.”</p> - -<p>For a moment he stood silent, shading his eyes with -his hand.</p> - -<p>“Another bunker!” he cried presently. “Merriwell -is a perfect wonder. He’s as fresh as when he started. -Great Scott! I never saw anything like this in all my -life.”</p> - -<p>Niles was fairly jumping up and down in his frenzied -excitement.</p> - -<p>“Go it! go it!” he cried. “Stove’s all in. Only -fifteen yards more. Why didn’t I bring a watch? He’s -making a record! Go it, Dick! Ten yards more—eight! -Oh, why isn’t there somebody else here to see this! -He’s got him! He’s got him!”</p> - -<p>Fairly shrieking out the last words, Jack Niles -plunged down the slope, his arms waving like an erratic -windmill, and ran toward the two men who stood together -at the far end of the course. One, cool and -fresh, his breath coming a little unevenly, stood with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>74</span> -his hand on the shoulder of the other, who was exhausted -to the verge of collapse, breathing with great -gulping gasps, unable to get enough air into his lungs. -His whole frame trembled, and his guilty eyes, unwilling -to meet the stern, accusing ones of the man before -him, were fixed upon the ground.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>75</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="vii">CHAPTER VII.<br /> -<span>THE BRAND OF FEAR.</span></h2> - - -<p>It was not a lively party that approached the clubhouse -half an hour later. Merriwell had turned his -captive over to Roger Clingwood and Jack Niles, and -was devoting his attention to the dumb boy, who had -so far recovered as to be able to walk with very little -assistance.</p> - -<p>Brose Stovebridge looked like another man. With -dragging feet and eyes fixed on the ground, he was the -picture of guilt as he slouched along between the two -other clubmen. Roger Clingwood’s eyes, wearing a -mingled expression of anger and humiliation, were set -straight ahead, as though he could not bring himself -to look at the fellow who had so disgraced his club. -The homely, honest features of the other man, showed -only a fierce contempt. Behind them straggled the -curious party of golfers who had witnessed that extraordinary -race.</p> - -<p>As they approached the veranda, a tall, well-built -fellow with bronzed face and pleasant gray eyes, stepped -forward from the group assembled by the door.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Niles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Awfully -sorry I disappointed you yesterday, but it couldn’t -be helped. I’m ready to run your champion to-day, -though.”</p> - -<p>“Glad to see you, Layton,” Niles said warmly. “I -don’t know——”</p> - -<p>Roger Clingwood’s cold, cutting voice interrupted -him:</p> - -<p>“We have no champion, Mr. Layton. Mr. Stovebridge -will soon be no longer a member of the club.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>76</span> -A gasp of astonishment went up from the listening -members, and a feeling of utter desolation and <a name="despair" id="despair"></a><ins title="Original has 'dispair'">despair</ins> -swept over Stovebridge, who turned his back swiftly on -the veranda.</p> - -<p>“And if he were a member,” <a name="supplemented" id="supplemented"></a><ins title="Original has 'supplimented'">supplemented</ins> Niles, -“he would no longer be champion. Dick Merriwell holds -that honor at present. I have no doubt he will race -you any time you wish.”</p> - -<p>A look of pleased surprise flashed into Layton’s -face as he caught sight of Dick for the first time, -and, stepping forward quickly, he took the Yale man’s -hand.</p> - -<p>“Awfully glad to see you, old fellow,” he said -warmly.</p> - -<p>Then he turned to Niles.</p> - -<p>“A race between us would be pretty much of a -farce,” he smiled. “Apparently you don’t know him -as well as I do. If there’s one fellow I’ll pull my -colors to, it’s Merriwell of Yale.”</p> - -<p>Roger Clingwood stepped forward and touched -Niles’ arm.</p> - -<p>“Take him upstairs and lock him in the end bedroom -while I telephone the police,” he said in a low -tone. “Much as I loathe the fellow, there’s no reason -why he should be put to needless humiliation.”</p> - -<p>With the disappearance of the two into the clubhouse, -a perfect Bedlam of eager, breathless questions -were flung at the other men of the party, and, -as the story was briefly told, exclamations of amazement, -contempt and scorn arose on every side. Some -of the men were even incredulous. It did not seem -possible that the dashing, debonair Stovebridge, one -of the most popular of their number, and the best all-around -athlete in the club, could have been guilty of -such behavior; but they were at length convinced,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>77</span> -and Roger Clingwood was urged to lose no time in -summoning an officer to take him into custody.</p> - -<p>As Brose Stovebridge crossed the threshold of the -bedroom, his self-control snapped like a broken thread -and he flung himself face downward on the bed, uttering -a gasping cry of despair. Lying there, shaken with -dry, racking sobs, he thought of the little child whose -life had been the penalty of his recklessness. There -was no doubt in his mind that she had died, and for -the first time in his life the thought of his own troubles -was swallowed up in the agony of that greater wrong -he had done another.</p> - -<p>Jack Niles gazed down at the man who had once -been his friend, and his first feeling of infinite contempt -gradually changed to pity. The man was suffering—suffering -keenly; and Niles did not like to see -any one suffer.</p> - -<p>“Brace up, Stove,” he said roughly, but with kindly -intent. “Take your medicine like a man. There’s no -use crying over spilt milk.”</p> - -<p>A shiver went through the other’s frame.</p> - -<p>“It’s spilt—blood—I’m thinking about,” came in -muffled gasps.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he sprang to his feet and faced Niles. His -eyes were full of unutterable despair; there were -traces of tears on his cheeks, his hands clenched and unclenched -ceaselessly.</p> - -<p>“You won’t believe me, Jack,” he said in a strange, -unnatural voice, “but I’m not thinking about myself, -I don’t care what they do to me. It’s the idea of that -little child, dead—killed by my own hand as surely -as though I had shot her through the heart—that’s -driving me mad.”</p> - -<p>Niles opened his lips to speak and then closed them -again. It was not up to him to tell Stovebridge that, -so far as he knew, the child was not dead. She might<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>78</span> -have died that morning—they had been expecting it -all night—and it would be cruel to raise any false -hopes.</p> - -<p>So he muttered a few rough words of sympathy and, -closing the door, locked it on the outside.</p> - -<p>His heart sank as he walked out on the veranda -and saw the rugged face of little Amy’s father. The -child must be dead, and he was telling Clingwood the -sad news. He pressed up to the two.</p> - -<p>“An’ so he says there ain’t any more fear of her -dyin’,” the man was concluding. “She’ll be all right as -soon as thet arm o’ hers gits well.”</p> - -<p>“Splendid!” exclaimed Clingwood, his eyes brightening. -“I can’t tell you how glad I am.”</p> - -<p>Niles had heard enough. The child was not likely -to die, and he hurried over to Dick Merriwell.</p> - -<p>“Say, Dick,” he began hesitatingly, “Stove is pretty -near crazy up there with the idea that he has killed -the little girl. Now, Hanlon says she’s going to get -well after all. Don’t you think you ought to tell -Brose? He’s given up thinking about himself and says -he don’t care what they do to him; but he’s just about -wild with remorse. I hate to think of a fellow suffering -the way he is.”</p> - -<p>The Yale man hesitated for an instant, and then his -face cleared.</p> - -<p>“Why, yes, I’ll tell him,” he said readily. “If he -were only thinking of the consequences to himself, it -would serve him right to be kept guessing; but, as it -is, that would only be needless cruelty.”</p> - -<p>He turned quickly and disappeared into the house.</p> - -<p>Upstairs, Brose Stovebridge was pacing up and -down the room in a frenzied manner. His eyes were -wild and his brown hands trembled as he lifted them -now and then in an aimless fashion to his ghastly, set -face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>79</span> -“A murderer!” he muttered, in a strained voice. -“Twice a murderer! I never thought of it in that -light the other time.”</p> - -<p>He stopped in front of the mirror and gazed fixedly -at the reflection of his strangely altered face.</p> - -<p>“What are you made of?” he whispered hoarsely—“what -can you be made of to do the things you’ve -done and not to care? Is there no soul, no conscience—nothing -to make you care?”</p> - -<p>He turned away from the glass, laughing harshly.</p> - -<p>“Nothing there—nothing but a horrible face!”</p> - -<p>Then fear seemed to grip him and drive remorse -away.</p> - -<p>“They’ve sent for the police!” he gasped wildly. -“They’ll be here soon and drag me away. The jail, -a barred cell, the courtroom full of scornful, grinning -faces that were once my friends! And then—and -then—perhaps, the electric chair!”</p> - -<p>His voice sank to a vibrant whisper, and at the -last words he caught at his collar like one choking.</p> - -<p>“I can’t stand it!” he muttered. “I’m—afraid!”</p> - -<p>Suddenly he stood erect and listened. Some one was -coming upstairs. He crouched by the window, his -white face turned breathlessly toward the door. Now -they were coming down the hall. Another moment -the key would turn, the door would open, and they -would drag him away to prison. He shuddered.</p> - -<p>“I can’t stand it,” he muttered—“I won’t stand it!”</p> - -<p><a name="summoning" id="summoning"></a> -<ins title="Original has 'Summing'">Summoning</ins> -all his resolution, he slipped through the -window and hung by both hands. As the key clicked -in the lock, he dropped to the ground, staggered, regained -his footing with an effort, and then ran across -the drive toward the automobile sheds.</p> - -<p>He did not see Dick Merriwell’s head appear at the -window and then quickly disappear. He did not know<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>80</span> -that he was flying from his own salvation. His one -desperate thought was to get away.</p> - -<p>He reached his car and, cranking the engine with -feverish haste, sprang into the seat and swiftly -backed her out. With a sharp turn, he went through -the gears with a rush and started the car out of the club -grounds at top speed.</p> - -<p>As he dashed by the end of the veranda a yell arose:</p> - -<p>“Stop him! Stop him!”</p> - -<p>Several men ran out, waving their arms, but it was -of no avail. He disappeared down the drive like a -streak of light.</p> - -<p>Merriwell, Niles and several others ran back for their -cars to give chase; and as the fellow with the homely -face and honest eyes bent to crank his engine, he -shook his head seriously.</p> - -<p>“He’s crazy,” he muttered to himself—“clean daffy. -If something don’t happen pretty quick, I miss my -guess.”</p> - -<p>It was a long, long time before the jolly, happy-go-lucky -Niles could thrust out of his mind the picture -of that face—set, strained, and ghastly white, the eyes -wide open and glittering with a strange light, the colorless -lips parted over the clenched teeth. It was a face -which bore the brand of fear; the face of one going -to destruction.</p> - -<p>Stovebridge whirled out of the club gates into the -highroad, skidding, barely missing the ditch; but he -did not pull down the speed a hair. Down the road -he went, a blurred streak of red. He must get away. -He would not be caught.</p> - -<p>Presently he turned onto a narrower road which -led over the hills into the more unsettled country. -He knew they would follow him, and he meant to -give them a long chase.</p> - -<p>The road wound up hill and down dale, through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>81</span> -farming country and wheat fields, with now and then -a stretch of woods or meadow land. Once he flashed -past a farmhouse where a woman stood drawing water -from an old well, and as she caught a fleeting glimpse -of his face, she gave a cry of horror and gazed after -the thick cloud of dust, her hand lifted to her heart. -The brand of fear was very plain.</p> - -<p>On went the car like a flying monster. The man -was pushing her to the utmost, and she responded -nobly. They were nearing the river which he meant -to cross by an old, unfrequented bridge close beside -a deserted mill. He would fool them all, for few -knew of the crossing which cut off several miles on -the way to the wilder country beyond. He had not -been that way himself in many months, but he knew -it perfectly.</p> - -<p>Up a steep hill he flew on the high, flashed over -the level summit, and began the rough, winding descent. -He was driving recklessly, but with splendid skill. -A little grove of trees blurred past, and then he reached -the river bank.</p> - -<p>Too late he saw that he had blundered.</p> - -<p>The bridge was gone!</p> - -<p>Following a grinding shock of the emergency, the -car shot through the frail protecting timbers at the -brink, and, for one brief, awful instant, seemed to -hover in the air above the river.</p> - -<p>With a tremendous splash, it struck the water and -sank beneath.</p> - -<p>By some strange freak of chance, Stovebridge had -been flung free of the entangling car, and presently, -dazed by the shock, he struggled to the surface and -strove to reach the shore.</p> - -<p>But the current was very swift, and something -seemed to drag him down. Still he struggled frantically. -He must reach it. He did not want to drown.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>82</span> -He was afraid to die, as he had been afraid of many -things in life.</p> - -<p>His arms grew numb and his legs seemed to have -no feeling left. If he could only loosen the weight -which dragged him down! It was as though hands -were clutching him and pulling him slowly but inexorably -below the surface.</p> - -<p>Finally into his numbed brain came the thought that -they were really hands—the hands of the child! Ah, -well, it was only justice that the weak fingers of the -little one he had murdered should have grown strong -enough to draw him to his destruction.</p> - -<p>He was tired. If he could only give up and cease to -try. But he did not want to face the child down in -the deep, cold river. The water washed over his face -and he struggled weakly to raise his head, but could -not. In his ears there was a distant roaring which -grew louder and louder. The dragging hands were -very heavy. Why not stop battling and let it go? -Life was not worth the effort. His arms dropped -feebly and a sense of infinite rest and peace stole over -him.</p> - -<p>The roaring ceased.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>83</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="viii">CHAPTER VIII.<br /> -<span>THE YOUNG MAN IN TROUBLE.</span></h2> - - -<p>When Dick and his friends left the Clover County -Club, to continue their trip, Forest Hills was their -next scheduled stopping place.</p> - -<p>“Try the Burlington,” said Roger Clingwood, as -he bade the party good-by; “the restaurant is the best -in the place.”</p> - -<p>Following Clingwood’s advice Dick and his friends -had gone at once to the Burlington, and after removing -the stains of travel, sought the dining room.</p> - -<p>As the head waiter spied them, he conducted them -to a round table near one of the open windows and -drew out the chairs with a flourish.</p> - -<p>As soon as they were seated, Tucker reached for -the menu.</p> - -<p>“Well, let’s get this struggle over with,” he remarked, -as he ran his eye down it. “I eat from a sense -of duty. Hotels must be supported. Mere grub is -repugnant to me, but I have to go through the motions.”</p> - -<p>Buckhart looked at Dick and lowered one eyelid.</p> - -<p>“Catch on to his order, pard,” he murmured.</p> - -<p>At that moment the waiter approached with pad and -pencil.</p> - -<p>“What are you going to have, Tommy?” Dick asked. -“Don’t torture yourself too severely.”</p> - -<p>The little fellow’s brows were knitted in deep -thought.</p> - -<p>“H’m! A little <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">consommé</i> to start with, I think. -That ought to taste pretty good on a warm day like -this. Then—let me see. A <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">filet mignon</i> sounds -right. Potatoes come with it, I suppose?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>84</span> -“Yes, sir,” nodded the waiter.</p> - -<p>“Lima beans and green corn will do for the other -vegetables. Follow that with a lettuce salad; and, for -dessert, sliced peaches with a portion of vanilla ice -cream. That’s about all, except that I want a pot of -coffee with cream brought with the filet.”</p> - -<p>He sat back in his chair and unfolded his napkin -with an air of much satisfaction.</p> - -<p>“Looks like you got a rake off from the management,” -the Texan grinned.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you the real clever thing to guess it,” returned -Tucker. “How else do you suppose I make -expenses? These hotel proprietors are only too glad -to give a little bonus to a good-looking chap like me. -Gives tone to the establishment, you know.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell gave his order and then, sitting back, -glanced casually around the room. It was well-filled -with the usual crowd of business men, among whom -were a few ladies in light summer dresses, and a -pleasant air of refinement pervaded the establishment.</p> - -<p>Presently Dick noticed a party of three young fellows -who were lunching at a table in the centre of the -room. One of them faced him—a pleasant-looking, -well set up man of about twenty-two, with clean-cut -features and curly, brown hair; and, as the Yale man -glanced at him, he hastily averted his eyes as if he -had been staring.</p> - -<p>“I suppose there isn’t any chance of going through -the mine this afternoon,” Dick remarked, turning back -to his friends. “Clingwood said the morning was the -best time. We can put in the rest of the day looking -the town over, and after dinner I’ll hunt up the superintendent, -Orren Fairchilds, and give him that card of -introduction.”</p> - -<p>“I think I’ll take a rest,” yawned Bigelow. “The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>85</span> -roads were awful this morning. I’m black and blue all -over from being jounced around.”</p> - -<p>“Hear him talk!” jeered Tucker. “He’s so packed -with blubber, you’d have to jab something into him a -good two inches before he could feel it.”</p> - -<p>Dick glanced over at the other table again and met -the curly haired fellow’s eyes fixed squarely on him. -One of his companions had half turned and was also -regarding the Yale man intently.</p> - -<p>“They’re certainly going to know me the next time -they see me,” he thought. “I wonder if I have ever -met them before.”</p> - -<p>He decided that he had not. Endowed with an -extraordinary memory, he never forgot a face, and -those two were totally strange.</p> - -<p>The next moment he was surprised to see the brown-haired -man rise from his table and come across the -room toward him.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon,” he said, pausing beside Dick’s -chair; “but isn’t your name Merriwell—Dick Merriwell?”</p> - -<p>There was a slightly puzzled look on Dick’s face.</p> - -<p>“It is,” he answered. “But I don’t remember——”</p> - -<p>“No, of course you don’t,” the other interrupted -with an embarrassed smile. “You’ve never laid eyes -on me before; but I’ve seen Merriwell pitch several -times, and the minute you came into the room I was -sure you were he.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated for an instant, and Dick waited quietly -for him to continue.</p> - -<p>“I’m the captain of the Field Club nine here in -Forest Hills,” the tall fellow went on presently. “Our -big game—the game of the season—is scheduled for -to-morrow, and our battery is beastly weak, especially -Morrison, the pitcher. I thought—I wondered whether -it would be possible for you to come out to the grounds<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>86</span> -this afternoon and give us a pointer or two. I—I -know I’ve got nerve, but that game means a lot to us. -My name is Gardiner—Glen Gardiner.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell’s heart warmed to this frank, pleasant-voiced -young fellow, who was so obviously embarrassed -at the favor he had ventured to ask; and, as -Gardiner finished speaking, the Yale man rose quickly -to his feet and held out his hand.</p> - -<p>“I’m very glad to meet you, Mr. Gardiner,” he said -heartily. “You’re not nervy at all. I shall be delighted -to help you in any way I can. We were just -wondering how we could put in the afternoon. I’d -like you to meet my friends, Brad Buckhart, Tommy -Tucker, and Bouncer Bigelow.”</p> - -<p>Gardiner’s face glowed with pleasure as he shook -the Texan’s hand.</p> - -<p>“I’ve seen Mr. Buckhart before,” he said quickly; -“and I’m very happy to meet you all. You have no -idea, Mr. Merriwell, how much I’ll appreciate your -coming out and coaching us.”</p> - -<p>“Better wait until you’ve seen how I can coach before -you thank me,” Dick smiled. “Won’t you bring -your friends over and lunch with us? There’s room -enough at this table, and we can get some more -chairs.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you very much, but we’ve just finished,” -Gardiner said. “I know they’d be awfully pleased, -though, to sit here while you eat yours.”</p> - -<p>He went back to his own table and returned with the -two men, whom he introduced as Ralph Maxwell and -Stanley Garrick. The former played shortstop on the -nine and was short and wiry, with red hair and freckles. -He was not unlike Tucker in looks and manner, and -the two took to each other at once. Garrick, who -played second, was tall and rather ungainly, with a -noticeable deliberation of speech and manner. To the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>87</span> -casual observer, he seemed slow and clumsy, but on -the diamond he was anything but that.</p> - -<p>They were both delighted to meet the Yale men, and, -drawing up some chairs, made themselves comfortable -while the latter began on the luncheon which had just -appeared.</p> - -<p>“Who is it you play to-morrow?” Dick asked, as he -took up his knife and fork.</p> - -<p>“The Mispah team—the mine boys,” exclaimed Gardiner. -“They’ve got a crackajack nine this year and -have licked everything they’ve been up against, so far. -We have a pretty good organization ourselves, and -we’ve won every game we’ve played. So you can see -that it will be a hard fight from start to finish. If we -win, we’ll hold the state championship.”</p> - -<p>Dick nodded.</p> - -<p>“I see; but how does it come that these mine fellows -are so good? They don’t generally amount to -much at scientific baseball.”</p> - -<p>“It’s on account of Orren Fairchilds, one of the mine -owners,” Gardiner answered. “Perhaps you’ve heard -of him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I have. But I didn’t know he was one of the -owners. I thought he was the superintendent.”</p> - -<p>“He’s both. He also happens to be one of the greatest -baseball enthusiasts in the country. Before he -went into mining, he played on one of the big-league -teams, and he’s still a crank over the game. He -got together the most promising of the young fellows -in the mine and practically taught them the game from -start to finish—spent months coaching each man separately -and the whole nine together. He hardly ate -or slept during that time, and, as a result, he’s got a -crowd that he boasts can lick anything in the country -outside the big leagues.”</p> - -<p>“He must be all to the good,” Dick said, smiling.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>88</span> -“He’s a man after my own heart, and I shall be much -interested in meeting him to-night.”</p> - -<p>“You have an appointment?” queried Gardiner.</p> - -<p>“No; a card of introduction from a mutual friend,” -Merriwell returned. “We are anxious to go through -the mine to-morrow, if possible.”</p> - -<p>“You’d better be at his house before seven to-night, -then,” Gardiner said. “He has dinner at half-past -six, and the minute he’s through he goes up to -the diamond he’s laid out near the mine, where the -boys practice until dark.”</p> - -<p>“Much obliged for the advice,” Dick smiled. “I’ll -be there on the dot; for our only reason for coming -to Forest Hills was to see the mine.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>89</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="ix">CHAPTER IX.<br /> -<span>A DISGRUNTLED PITCHER.</span></h2> - - -<p>“What seems to be the matter with this pitcher of -yours?” Merriwell asked a little later.</p> - -<p>“Poor control,” Gardiner answered briefly. “He’s -got excellent curves, but he’s wild. Some days he -is fine, especially if we have things our own way from -the start. But let the other side get a few hits off him -to begin with, and he seems to go all to pieces.”</p> - -<p>Dick took out his pocketbook, and selecting a bill, -handed it to the waiter.</p> - -<p>“That’s a bad fault,” he commented. “Curves are -no earthly use unless a man can control them. Does he -use his head?”</p> - -<p>Gardiner hesitated a moment.</p> - -<p>“Well—sometimes,” he said slowly. “I hate to knock -a man, especially a fellow I don’t like, but you can’t -very well help us much unless you know all about -him. Morrison’s great trouble is a case of abnormally -swelled head. Up to a month ago we had another -pitcher we could fall back on. He didn’t have many -fancy stunts, but he was steady, and in the long run -he made a better record than Morrison. But he had to -leave town, and since then Edgar seems to have the -idea that he’s the whole team and that we can’t get -along without him. He’s a great masher, and when -he’s on the slab he spends more time thinking how he -can make a hit with the girls in the grand stand than in -preventing the batters from making a hit in the box. -We’ve had several run-ins on that account, but there’s -no reasoning with a fellow like that. I freely confess -that, personally, I don’t like him; but I hope that fact -hasn’t made me unfair.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>90</span> -He looked questioningly at Ralph Maxwell.</p> - -<p>“It hasn’t,” the latter declared quickly. “You -haven’t been hard enough on him. The fellow doesn’t -make any pretense at training. There’s hardly a night -that he isn’t to be found at Dolan’s Café on Front -Street. I don’t mean that he gets jagged, but he certainly -drinks and smokes a lot there; and you can’t -tell me that a fellow can play good ball when he -spends his time that way.”</p> - -<p>Dick picked up his change from the silver tray -the waiter had just laid in front of him, and they -all arose and started for the door.</p> - -<p>“You’re up against a hard proposition,” said Merriwell. -“It’s always difficult to do anything with a man -like that. They usually resent advice and never by -any chance follow it. How is your catcher?”</p> - -<p>“Fine!” declared Gardiner enthusiastically. “Burgess -is a great pal of Morrison, but he’s all to the -good. More than once he has pulled Edgar out of a -hole and saved the day.”</p> - -<p>“A good catcher is worth his weight in gold,” Merriwell -said, with a sidelong glance at Buckhart, who -appeared deaf.</p> - -<p>“Let’s go out this way,” he went on. “I thought we -would use the car this afternoon, so I left it at the -side entrance.”</p> - -<p>As they went down the steps, Maxwell and Garrick -started to walk away.</p> - -<p>“See you on the field,” the former called back.</p> - -<p>“Hold on,” Dick said quickly. “Aren’t you going -right over there?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; but——”</p> - -<p>“Well, come along with us, then,” the Yale man -invited, as he slipped in the coil plug. “There’s room -enough for everybody, if you don’t mind crowding.”</p> - -<p>The two fellows came back and squeezed into the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>91</span> -tonneau with Tucker and Bigelow, who had given up -his idea of taking a nap. Dick cranked the engine -and took his seat at the wheel, Gardiner beside him. -The Texan sat on the side of the car with his feet -hanging out.</p> - -<p>The Field Club was situated in the residential part of -town and covered a good deal of ground. Besides -the diamond, there was a good nine-hole golf course, -excellent tennis courts, and a simple, attractive and well-arranged -clubhouse. This last was built at one side of -the diamond, so that the club members could enjoy -the game from the wide veranda, which completely -surrounded the house, quite as well as the spectators in -the grand stand.</p> - -<p>Under Gardiner’s direction, Dick drove the <i>Wizard</i> -through the entrance and up to the veranda, where a -number of young fellows in baseball suits were congregated.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Glen,” one of them called out, as the party -came up the steps. “We’d about given you up. Thought -you were lost, or something.”</p> - -<p>“It’s about time you showed up,” another said rather -sharply. “Practice ought to have begun half an hour -ago. I’ve got a date at five o’clock, which I propose -to keep.”</p> - -<p>He was a tall, dark, rather good-looking fellow, who -was evidently quite aware of the fact, and as he spoke -his full, red lips were curved in a slight sneer.</p> - -<p>Gardiner flushed a little at the other’s tone, but -otherwise paid no attention to it.</p> - -<p>“I know that, Morrison,” he said pleasantly; “but -I guess we can make up the lost time. Fellows, I want -you to meet Dick Merriwell, the famous Yale pitcher, -who has been so good as to say he’d coach us a little -for the game to-morrow.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>92</span> -A suspicious gleam flashed into Morrison’s eyes as -he extended a languid hand.</p> - -<p>“Glad to meet you,” he drawled. “Merriwell, did -you say? You go to Yale, do you?”</p> - -<p>This assumption of ignorance was affectation, pure -and simple. The Forest Hills pitcher knew perfectly -well who Dick Merriwell was, but he thought it might -irritate the Yale man if he pretended never to have -heard of him.</p> - -<p>It had, however, no such effect.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I happen to,” Dick said good-naturedly, as -he shook the fellow’s hand, and turned to meet the -other men.</p> - -<p>“You fellows go ahead and start practice,” Gardiner -said, when the introductions were complete. “I’ll -slip into my clothes and be with you in half a jiffy.”</p> - -<p>He disappeared into the clubhouse, and the others -left the veranda and walked out to the diamond. -Merriwell was chatting with the catcher, George Burgess, -a short, stout heavily built fellow with a good-humored -face and small, twinkling eyes.</p> - -<p>“Gardiner tells me you’re up against a hard proposition -to-morrow,” the Yale man remarked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, the mine boys are a tough crowd to beat,” -Burgess returned. “But I guess we can do it.”</p> - -<p>He slipped his mask on and began to buckle his chest -protector.</p> - -<p>“Let’s see how your wing is to-day, Edgar,” he -called. “One of you fellows stand up here and be -struck out. You’re all ready, Art. Come ahead.”</p> - -<p>Arthur Dean, a well-built, muscular fellow who -played third, picked up a bat and walked over to the -plate.</p> - -<p>Morrison went into the pitcher’s box, a sullen look -on his face.</p> - -<p>“I like that fellow Merriwell’s nerve, butting in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>93</span> -this way,” he muttered. “I suppose that fresh Gardiner -thinks I need coaching. Well, he won’t show me -very much.”</p> - -<p>He tried an outshoot, and was chagrined when it -missed the pan by a good foot and Burgess had to -stir himself to get it.</p> - -<p>“Wild, Morrie—wild,” the stout fellow said, as he -tossed the ball back.</p> - -<p>Morrison bit his lips. The next ball was high. -It held no speed, but it passed so far above Dean’s -head that Burgess was forced to stretch his arms at full -length in order to pull it down.</p> - -<p>He shook his head as he snapped it back.</p> - -<p>Then the pitcher sent a speedy one straight over the -pan, and Dean cracked out a clean single toward right -field.</p> - -<p>Gardiner appeared in time to see this performance, -and, though he said nothing, his face wore an anxious -frown.</p> - -<p>“I think I’ll get out where I can see his delivery -better,” Dick said, as the captain approached.</p> - -<p>“I wish you would,” Gardiner returned in a low -voice. “He’s pretty wild, isn’t he?”</p> - -<p>Merriwell nodded and walked out on the diamond, -taking a position behind Morrison, who had just received -the ball from the field.</p> - -<p>“Now, Reddy, get up to the plate and see what you -can do,” Gardiner directed. “See if you can’t strike -him out, Morrie.”</p> - -<p>“He can’t do it,” grinned Maxwell, taking a firm -grip on his bat. “Bet you can’t fan me, Edgar, old -boy.”</p> - -<p>Morrison flushed a little as he toed the plate, his -eyes fixed on Burgess.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>94</span> -The catcher signaled for an incurve, and the next -moment Maxwell dodged back to avoid being hit by -the ball.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want a present of the base, thank you,” he -laughed. “Try again, Morrie.”</p> - -<p>Morrison scowled and whipped a swift shoot, which -was entirely too high. The following two balls were -equally wild, and the red-headed chap tossed his bat -to the ground with a grin.</p> - -<p>“Told you that you couldn’t,” he said triumphantly.</p> - -<p>The lanky Garrick took his place, and, after giving -him three balls, the pitcher sent one straight over -the pan, which Garrick promptly swung at and laced -out a hot two-bagger.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with you, Morrison?” Gardiner -said sharply. “What’s the good of curves if you can’t -get them over? You’ve got to take a brace pretty -soon, or we might as well make the Mispahs a present of -the game.”</p> - -<p>The pitcher’s face darkened and he controlled himself -with an effort.</p> - -<p>“There’s no use killing yourself at practice,” he -said, with affected nonchalance. “I’ll be all right in -the game.”</p> - -<p>“I shouldn’t like to bank on it,” Gardiner retorted, -with some heat. “I could mention a few games in -which you were decidedly <em>not</em> all right. The trouble -with you is that half the time your mind isn’t on what -you’re doing. A fellow can’t pitch and think about -something else at the same time.”</p> - -<p>Morrison flushed hotly.</p> - -<p>“You don’t say so!” he sneered. “Perhaps you’d -like your Yale friend to show me how it’s done. -That’s what you brought him here for, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>Gardiner’s chin squared.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>95</span> -“I asked him here to coach us all,” he said quietly. -“So far, you seem to be the one to need it the most.”</p> - -<p>Morrison’s eyes flashed and he wheeled suddenly -and faced Dick, who was standing behind him.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you’ll be so kind as to give us an exhibition -of your skill,” he said ironically, in a voice -which trembled with <a name="suppressed" id="suppressed"></a><ins title="Original has 'supressed'">suppressed</ins> anger. “You pitch, I -believe?”</p> - -<p>“Occasionally,” Merriwell returned carelessly; “but -I doubt whether I can be of any assistance to you. -Your curves and speed seem to be all right. A man -can only acquire good control by constant practice -and unremitting attention to the game.”</p> - -<p>The ball came bounding across the diamond from the -field, and leaning over, Morrison scooped it up and -tossed it to the Yale man.</p> - -<p>“Sounds good,” he sneered. “Just show us a few.”</p> - -<p>He folded his arms, an ugly look on his face, and -stepped back, while Dick took off his coat and rolled -up his right sleeve, exposing an arm of such perfect development -that even the man whose place he had taken -could not suppress a feeling of envious admiration.</p> - -<p>Gardiner picked up a bat and stepped to the plate; -the catcher crouched and gave a signal, which Dick -recognized as the call for a drop. As the ball left -Merriwell’s fingers, it seemed that it would pass above -the first baseman’s shoulders. Too late the latter saw -it take a sudden downward shoot and plunk into the -catcher’s big mitt.</p> - -<p>“Gee! that’s a dandy,” Gardiner exclaimed, as Burgess -tossed the ball back.</p> - -<p>The next one was a beautiful outcurve which cut -the corner of the plate, though the batter had not -thought it possible for the ball to pass over any part -of the pan. He planted his feet firmly, a little frown -on his face. Though he knew Merriwell was giving<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>96</span> -Morrison an object lesson, he did not propose to be -fanned by the Yale man if he could help it.</p> - -<p>Dick placed his feet and rose on his toes for a -moment. Backward he swung, poised upon one pin, -his left foot lifted high above the ground. Forward -he threw his body with a broad, sharp swing of -his arm, and the ball came <a name="sizzling" id="sizzling"></a><ins title="Original has 'sizzing'">sizzling</ins> over the inside corner -of the rubber, Gardiner missing cleanly.</p> - -<p>A murmur of astonishment and admiration went -up from the little group which stood near the plate. -To have their heaviest hitter struck out by the first -three balls pitched was something the members of the -Forest Hills nine had never expected to see. Gardiner -threw down his bat with a little <a name="grimace" id="grimace"></a><ins title="Original has 'grimance'">grimace</ins> of -disgust.</p> - -<p>“That’s some pitching,” he said. “I haven’t had -that happen to me in many moons. Now, Edgar, -suppose you see what you can do.”</p> - -<p>But Morrison was walking rapidly toward him from -the pitcher’s box, his hands clenched and his face -dark.</p> - -<p>“You can’t make a monkey out of me,” he snarled. -“I’m through.”</p> - -<p>Gardiner looked at him in amazement.</p> - -<p>“Do you mean you won’t pitch to-morrow?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“Neither to-morrow nor any other day,” snapped -Morrison. “Nothing would hire me to pitch on this -team after the dirty trick you’ve played bringing a -fellow in to make a show of me. Think I’m a fool?”</p> - -<p>Gardiner flushed hotly.</p> - -<p>“Nobody could make a fool of you,” he said, with -sarcastic emphasis. “You seem to have been born -that way.”</p> - -<p>The angry man disdained any reply.</p> - -<p>“Any of my friends will have to choose now between<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>97</span> -Gardiner and me,” he went on furiously. “If -they prefer playing on his team, well and good; but -at that moment they cease to be my friends. Understand?”</p> - -<p>He cast a significant glance at George Burgess, and, -turning on his heel, walked rapidly toward the <a name="clubhouse" id="clubhouse"></a><ins title="Original has 'culbhouse'">clubhouse</ins>.</p> - -<p>Burgess hesitated for an instant and, with a shrug -of his shoulders, slowly unbuckled his chest protector -and threw it on the ground, together with his mask -and mitt. Then he followed Morrison.</p> - -<p>The flush had died out of Gardiner’s face, leaving -it a little pale. His eyes traveled slowly over the faces -of the remaining men.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said quietly, “any more?”</p> - -<p>Unconsciously, perhaps, he looked at Roland Hewett, -the centre fielder, a slim, fastidious fellow with thin, -blond hair and pale blue eyes, whom he knew was -another friend of the deserting pitcher. There was -a worried, undecided look on his weak face.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know——” he stammered. “I—I believe -I’ll go and see if he really meant what he said.”</p> - -<p>Then he, too, left the group on the diamond and -presently disappeared into the clubhouse.</p> - -<p>For a moment no one spoke. Then Reddy Maxwell -broke the silence.</p> - -<p>“Well, fellows,” he said, with forced cheerfulness, -“I should say that the team is better off without a -bunch that will desert it at a time like this.”</p> - -<p>“But how the deuce are we going to fill their places?” -Irving Renworth, the right fielder, asked apprehensively.</p> - -<p>“By Jove, fellows. I’m sorry!” Gardiner broke in -contritely. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have talked -that way to Morrison, knowing how touchy he is.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, cut that, Glen,” Maxwell said quickly. “It would<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>98</span> -take a wooden man to stand Morrie’s nasty, sneering -way without answering back. I’m glad he’s gone, -though I am surprised at Burgess backing him up.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, don’t worry, Glen,” Garrick said in his deliberate -manner. “It wasn’t your fault. We’ll have to -make the best of it, and look around for some one -else.”</p> - -<p>The captain ran his fingers despairingly through -his thick brown hair.</p> - -<p>“We can fill Hewett’s place all right, and we might -find a catcher,” he groaned. “But how in the world -do you expect to get hold of a pitcher in less than -twenty-four hours, when I’ve tried in vain to do that -very thing ever since Smith left us a month ago?”</p> - -<p>A hand clapped him on the back, and the big Texan’s -hearty voice sounded in his ears.</p> - -<p>“Brace up, bucko! You don’t seem to be wise to the -fact that you’ve got a battery complete right on the -ground; and, in the field, Tucker can knock spots out -of that quitter. You hear me gently warble!”</p> - -<p>Gardiner turned swiftly as though he could scarcely -believe his senses.</p> - -<p>“What?” he exclaimed. “You mean that you -would——”</p> - -<p>“That’s sure what I’m trying to express,” Buckhart -grinned. “Seeing as we’re someways responsible -for that bunch going on strike, it’ll only square things -up if we take their places. How about it, pard?”</p> - -<p>“Of course, we’ll play,” Dick said quickly, “if they -want us to.”</p> - -<p>A sudden smile flashed into the first baseman’s face.</p> - -<p>“Want you!” he cried. “Well, I guess yes! Only I -should never have dared suggest such a thing. Talk -about luck! Why, this is the best thing that could -have happened. We’ll give the mine boys the surprise -of their lives, and a minute ago I was thinking of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>99</span> -throwing up the game. Gee! I can hardly believe it’s -true.”</p> - -<p>Dick looked at his watch.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got a couple of hours yet which we may as -well put in practicing a little, don’t you think?” he remarked. -“That is, if you can supply us with togs.”</p> - -<p>“Sure thing,” Gardiner returned. “Come in to the -house and I’ll fit you fellows out.”</p> - -<p>It was amazing how quickly the anxious, worried -looks on the faces of the Forest Hills boys were replaced -by grins of joy, as they realized their good luck. -A few minutes later they were dashing about the field -after flies, scooping up hot liners, or taking turns at the -bat with an enthusiasm and vim which was a marked -contrast to the demeanor they had displayed earlier in -the afternoon.</p> - -<p>Merriwell became so interested in the practice that -he delayed longer than he had intended. The result -was that he had barely time for a hasty shower in the -dressing rooms of the club, which was followed by a -dash back to the hotel where he swallowed his dinner -at a speed which was ruinous to his digestion. Even -at that, it lacked only five minutes of seven when the -turned into the drive and stopped the <i>Wizard</i> at the -entrance of Orren Fairchilds’ costly and beautiful residence, -in the most exclusive section of Forest Hills.</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t look much like the home of a man who -cares for nothing but business and baseball,” he -thought, as he ran up the marble steps and pushed the -electric button.</p> - -<p>The door was promptly opened by an impressive -butler, who ushered the Yale man into the drawing -room.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Fairchilds is at dinner,” he announced, “but -he will be through directly.”</p> - -<p>Dick took out the card on which Roger Clingwood<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>100</span> -had written simply, “Introducing Richard Merriwell, of -Yale,” and handed it to the man.</p> - -<p>“Will you give this to him when he has finished,” -he requested.</p> - -<p>“Very good, sir,” returned the butler. “Will you be -seated, sir.”</p> - -<p>He took the card and disappeared, while Merriwell -dropped into a chair and glanced around the great -room, which was furnished richly, but in perfect taste.</p> - -<p>The next moment some curtains at the other end were -thrust violently aside and a man entered hurriedly.</p> - -<p>“Dick Merriwell, as I live!” he exclaimed, advancing -with outstretched hand. “You haven’t changed a -particle since I saw you twirl years ago at New -Haven. Jove, that was a game! My boy, I’m very -glad to meet you.”</p> - -<p>He was short and slim, with a brisk manner and -springy walk. His thin hair and heavier moustache -were slightly tinged with gray; nevertheless he certainly -was not much over thirty-seven or eight, and -with his healthy brown skin and alert, twinkling brown -eyes, he did not appear even that. Dick took an instant -liking for him as he shook his hand heartily.</p> - -<p>“I hope I haven’t interrupted your dinner,” he said. -“They told me you had it early.”</p> - -<p>“Not at all, not at all,” returned the mine owner -briskly. “I do have it early. I always make a point -of attending the evening practice of my team. Have -you seen Clingwood lately? I haven’t laid eyes on him -in over a year. Does he still play golf?”</p> - -<p>Merriwell smiled at the half-contemptuous tone in -which he brought out the last word.</p> - -<p>“Yes, he’s an enthusiast. -<a name="says" id="says"></a><ins title="Original has 'Say’s'">Says</ins> there is no game -like it.”</p> - -<p>“Bah!” snorted Fairchilds. “An old woman’s game. -That’s the only fault I have to find with Clingwood—he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>101</span> -doesn’t like baseball. How any sane, healthy man -can stand up and say he isn’t interested in the greatest -game on earth—the only game, to my mind, that’s -worth the time and trouble that’s spent on it—I can’t -understand.”</p> - -<p>“I hear you’ve got a great team up at the mine,” -Dick remarked.</p> - -<p>The little man’s eyes sparkled.</p> - -<p>“We have—a dandy team,” he said enthusiastically. -“They’ve wiped up the diamond with everything they’ve -met this year, and to-morrow I expect them to win the -game of the season with the Field Club nine. Of -course, you’ll be on hand for that?”</p> - -<p>Merriwell nodded with a smile. He expected to be -very much on hand.</p> - -<p>“Say, why can’t you come up to the field with me -now and watch the boys practice?” the mine owner -said suddenly. “You’ll see some work that will surprise -you, considering that six months ago the boys -knew very little about the game. Come along; my car’s -waiting outside now.”</p> - -<p>He rose quickly to his feet.</p> - -<p>“I think I’d better not, Mr. Fairchilds,” Dick returned -quietly, as he faced him. “You see, I’ve promised -to pitch for the Forest Hills team to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>The sharp little eyes of the older man fairly bulged -out with surprise.</p> - -<p>“You’ve what?” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“I’ve promised to pitch for the Field Club fellows,” -the Yale man smiled. “Morrison, their pitcher, and -his friend, George Burgess, left the team in a huff this -afternoon. Gardiner asked me to come out and give -Morrison a few points, and the fellow, getting mad at -what he was pleased to call my interference, quit, taking -the catcher with him. Naturally, having been, in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>102</span> -a way, responsible, I volunteered to take his place, and -my chum will catch.”</p> - -<p>The mine owner dropped back upon his chair.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“I hope you don’t disapprove,” Dick said quickly.</p> - -<p>“Disapprove! No, of course not. It will make the -game all the more interesting. I never did like that -fellow, Morrison, and he can’t pitch for sour apples. -But I must get up and tell the boys about this. We’ll -have to get in all the practice we can to-night. I don’t -feel quite so cocksure of winning as I did a few moments -ago.”</p> - -<p>He stood up quickly and started for the door, the -Yale man at his side. In the hall he took his hat -from the butler, and then stopped suddenly and looked -at Dick.</p> - -<p>“I reckon my wife must be right,” he said, his eyes -twinkling. “She says I haven’t got an idea in my head -but baseball. Here I’m running off without ever asking -you what I could do for you. You must have had -a reason for coming.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell smiled.</p> - -<p>“I did have a favor to ask,” he said. “I am very -anxious to go through the mine with three friends, if -it’s possible.”</p> - -<p>“Why, certainly,” the older man returned briskly. -“Delighted to have you. Come up to the offices to-morrow -about nine, and you’ll find me there. Will -that time suit you?”</p> - -<p>“Perfectly,” Dick answered. “And I’m sorry to -have taken so much of your time to-night.”</p> - -<p>The mine owner laughed.</p> - -<p>“I’m right glad you did,” he said, as they went down -the steps. “You’ve given me some valuable information.”</p> - -<p>He paused and looked at Dick shrewdly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>103</span> -“I only wish I’d seen you pitch inside of two years. -I expect you’ve developed a lot of new tricks in that -time.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” the Yale man smiled.</p> - -<p>Orren Fairchilds sprang into a big gray car which -stood near the steps, while Dick hurried forward to -get the <i>Wizard</i> out of the way. He sprang into his -seat and started the engine, which was still warm, and -as he did so, he heard the voice of the older man behind -him.</p> - -<p>“Just the same, my boy, don’t think you’ve got a -cinch, to-morrow. Good night.”</p> - -<p>“Good night,” Merriwell called back.</p> - -<p>The <i>Wizard</i> shot down the drive and into the street, -with the gray car close behind. Dick waved his hand -in response to a salute from the other man, who turned -in the opposite direction and quickly disappeared. Merriwell -drove slowly back toward the hotel.</p> - -<p>He was much taken with the enthusiastic mine -owner, whose simple, straightforward manner was a -pleasant contrast to the airs affected by some wealthy -men he had met.</p> - -<p>“You’d never imagine, to look at him, that he was -burdened with overmuch coin,” the Yale man thought. -“Yet Gardiner says that he and his brother are sole -owners of the mine, and must have four or five million -a piece. He certainly is a baseball crank, and -yet I should think it would be great fun, if a fellow -had plenty of money, to see how good a team you -could make out of ordinary material.”</p> - -<p>The Fairchilds’ place was situated at the extreme -limits of the city, and, as Merriwell passed through the -residential section, he drove slowly in order to observe -some of the houses and well-kept grounds along -the street.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he heard a stifled cry from the sidewalk,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>104</span> -causing him to swerve in toward the curb and slow -down to a crawl. The next moment he saw a young -girl trying to free herself from the grasp of a man, -and instantly he jammed on the brake and sprang out -of the car.</p> - -<p>“Let me go!” cried the girl. “Take -<a name="your" id="your"></a><ins title="Original has 'you'">your</ins> -hands off me!”</p> - -<p>Her face was flushed and her eyes wide with fright -as she strove to shake the fellow’s hand from her -arm. Then she caught sight of Dick.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she exclaimed quickly. “I’m so frightened. -Won’t you please make him go away.”</p> - -<p>Almost before the words were out of her mouth, -the Yale man sprang forward and, catching the man’s -wrist in a grip of iron, tore it from the girl’s arm and -sent him reeling against the fence.</p> - -<p>Then, to his amazement, he recognized the scowling -face of Edgar Morrison, the Field Club pitcher.</p> - -<p>“Curse you!” snarled the fellow, advancing with a -threatening gesture. “Butting in again, are you? I’ll -teach you to mind your own business!”</p> - -<p>Dick laughed lightly.</p> - -<p>“Come right along.” he said quietly. “I’m always -ready to learn, even from a cur like you.”</p> - -<p>With a furious oath, Morrison lunged forward and -attempted to hit Merriwell; but his blow was parried, -and he received a return punch that sent him reeling.</p> - -<p>Uttering a frightened cry, the girl turned and fled -down the street.</p> - -<p>Morrison was back at Dick in an instant, fairly foaming -with rage. He had quite a reputation in Forest -Hills as a fist-fighter, and when he kept his head he -could put up a good, scientific scrap. The Yale man -found no difficulty, however, in parrying his furious, -savage lunges, and presently he got in a straight uppercut<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>105</span> -on the fellow’s chin which sent him to the ground -with a crash.</p> - -<p>Dick stood over the man, waiting for him to rise.</p> - -<p>“Anything more you’d like to teach me?” he asked -quietly, as Morrison staggered to his feet and stood -swaying, one hand lifted to his chin.</p> - -<p>For a moment the other did not speak. Though -his ardor for fighting seemed to have cooled considerably, -his rage was apparently unabated, and -mingled with it there was a look of unutterable hate in -the fierce dark eyes, which were fixed on the contemptuous -face of the Yale man.</p> - -<p>“Not here—not now,” he muttered. “But I’ll teach -you a lesson some day that you won’t forget in a hurry, -curse you! I’ll get even with you yet.”</p> - -<p>With a shrug of his shoulder, Dick walked over to -the car.</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to be quick about it,” he said, as he took -his seat at the wheel. “I don’t propose spending -much more time in this town of yours.”</p> - -<p>He started to let in the clutch, and then suddenly half -turned in his seat, looking Morrison straight in the -eyes.</p> - -<p>“One thing more,” he said in a low, cold tone, -which held a decidedly threatening undercurrent. “If -I catch you annoying that girl again, or any other -woman, I’ll take great pleasure handing you another -bunch of fives. Understand?”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>106</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="x">CHAPTER X.<br /> -<span>IN DOLAN’S <a name="cafe" id="cafe"></a><ins title="Original has 'CAFE'">CAFÉ.</ins></span></h2> - - -<p>Morrison watched the car disappear down the street, -and clenching his fist, shook it fiercely in the air.</p> - -<p>“I’ll get even with you yet, you meddling fool!” he -rasped.</p> - -<p>He took out his handkerchief and pressed it to his -bleeding chin. It was not a bad cut, but the humiliation, -of being knocked down in a public thoroughfare -by almost the first blow struck, ate into his very soul -and made him grind his teeth in a blind, bitter rage.</p> - -<p>To have suffered at the hands of Dick Merriwell -added fuel to the blaze of his resentment. The happenings -of that afternoon had made him hate the Yale -man almost as much as he did Gardiner, whom he had -always disliked, but he had come out of that affair -with flying colors. He had crippled the Forest Hills -team so that they would stand no show whatever -against the mine boys; likely they would have to forfeit -the game for it would be impossible for them to find -both pitcher and catcher at so short a notice and his -heart rejoiced at having evened up his score with -Gardiner at last.</p> - -<p>But on the heels of that triumph came this new disgrace, -the very thought of which made him clench his -teeth and long fiercely to have that Yale upstart at -his mercy, somewhere, somehow, so that he could -pound the fellow until his arms were tired.</p> - -<p>He had no desire to stand up against Merriwell in -a fair fight. Wild with rage as he had been, Morrison -realized that the Yale man had enough science to handle -him with one hand. But he would give almost everything<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>107</span> -he possessed to get even with Merriwell in some -perfectly safe way, which carried no risk with it. Of -that sort of stuff was the former pitcher of the Forest -Hills team.</p> - -<p>He was aroused by the sound of footsteps and, -glancing up, saw several men coming toward him. He -did not linger, but hurrying to the near-by corner, -dodged into a side street, and made his way swiftly to -the car lines on Woodland Avenue.</p> - -<p>Swinging himself on the rear end of an open car, -he sat down in the shadow. He had intended going -directly to Dolan’s Café for a bracer, but just before the -car reached that corner the colored lights of a drug -store caught his eyes, and, leaping off, he went inside.</p> - -<p>Here he got some court-plaster which he applied -to the cut on his chin, explaining to the clerk that he -had fallen and struck his face on the curbing. That -done, he started for Dolan’s.</p> - -<p>Almost at the threshold he came face to face with -George Burgess and Roland Hewett, who greeted him -warmly.</p> - -<p>“We’ve been looking all over for you, Morrie,” the -former said quickly. “Where the mischief have you -been?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, up street a ways,” Morrison returned vaguely. -“Let’s go in.”</p> - -<p>They pushed through the swinging doors, passing -the bar, and went on into a large room beyond, which -was the distinguishing feature of Dolan’s.</p> - -<p>The place was long and lofty, with walls and floor -of marble, and was filled with little tables, set around -with heavy mission chairs. It was brightly lit with -many electric clusters which brought out in their full -crudity the gaudy decorations and flashy pictures.</p> - -<p>But to the cheap sport of -<a name="Forest" id="Forest"></a> -<ins title="Original has 'Forrest'">Forest</ins> Hills, there was -nothing gaudy about it. It represented to him the very<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>108</span> -acme of luxury, and night after night he would spend -the evening there, with others of his kind, in talk and -loud-mouthed bragging, smoking cigarettes and stretching -to the utmost limit the time allowance of a five-cent -glass of beer.</p> - -<p>For some vague, inscrutable reason he thought that -this was manly. He never seemed to realize what a -poor fool he was to waste his short leisure hours in -that foul atmosphere, poisoning his lungs, his stomach, -and his mind at the same time. He never seemed to -know that a man is not valued for his ability to smoke -and drink, but for what he is—for what he has done -that is worth while and uplifting in this world.</p> - -<p>The three fellows sat down at one of the tables, and -Morrison touched the bell.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with your chin, Morrie?” Hewett -asked curiously, as he settled himself in his chair.</p> - -<p>The dark-haired fellow raised his hand carelessly -to the court-plaster.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that, you mean?” he asked nonchalantly. “I -cut myself shaving.”</p> - -<p>The waiter appeared.</p> - -<p>“What’ll you have, fellows?” Morrison went on. -“I’m going to take a rye high ball.”</p> - -<p>“Beer for me.”</p> - -<p>The other two spoke together.</p> - -<p>Burgess took a box of cigarettes from his pocket and -passed them around. They all lit up, and presently -the drinks were brought and set down before them.</p> - -<p>“Have you heard the latest?” Burgess inquired, exhaling -a cloud of smoke.</p> - -<p>“What latest?” asked Morrison.</p> - -<p>“Why, about the team. It didn’t take Gardiner -long to fill out places.”</p> - -<p>As Morrison put his glass down on the table, his -hand trembled a little.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>109</span> -“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.</p> - -<p>Burgess gave a short laugh.</p> - -<p>“He’s got Merriwell to pitch, and that fellow Buckhart -to catch.”</p> - -<p>“What?” exploded Morrison.</p> - -<p>His face had paled a little and he looked as if he -could not believe his senses.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s straight goods,” Burgess assured. “He’s -even filled Hewett’s place with Tucker, another of that -crowd, who, I understand, has played short on the varsity -nine. Not bad for a pick-up, is it?”</p> - -<p>For a moment the former pitcher of the Forest Hills -seemed unable to utter a word. His face purpled and -his eyes flashed with rage. The veins on his forehead -stood out like cords.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he burst out in such a frenzied volley of -cursing that his two companions looked at him in astonishment.</p> - -<p>“Say, Morrie, ease up a bit,” cautioned Burgess. -“Pretty quick we’ll be thrown out of here.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, what’s the use of losing your temper that -way,” put in Hewett nervously. “The thing’s done, -and it can’t be helped now.”</p> - -<p>Morrison glared at him.</p> - -<p>“Who wouldn’t lose his temper?” he frothed. “You -would, if you had a little more red blood in your -veins. It’s enough to drive a man crazy to have this -upstart from Yale step in and get all the credit after -I’ve pitched the whole season and done all the hard -work.”</p> - -<p>“Now, look here, Morrie,” George Burgess said -sharply, “there’s no sense in cussing Merriwell that -way. He’s no more to blame than I am. After you -had stepped out it was only decent for him to volunteer -to take your place, especially when Gardiner’s bringing -him out to the field started the whole row.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>110</span> -Morrison took a gulp from his high ball and set -down the glass with such violence that some of the -liquid slopped over on the table.</p> - -<p>“Oh, so you’re going back on me, are you?” he -sneered. “Maybe you’d like to boot-lick Gardiner and -get back on the team.”</p> - -<p>The stout fellow flushed a little and a dangerous -look came into his small eyes.</p> - -<p>“That will about do for you,” he said in a tone of -suppressed anger. “You know I’m no quitter.”</p> - -<p>Several men entered the room at that moment, and, -as Morrison’s eyes fell on one of them, he calmed -down suddenly.</p> - -<p>“There’s Bill McDonough,” he said in a low tone.</p> - -<p>Burgess nodded.</p> - -<p>“So I see. I wonder what he’s doing here. Old -Fairchilds is daffy about close training.”</p> - -<p>The man to whom they referred seated himself at a -table near them and ordered vichy. Apparently one -of his companions joked him about the drink, for he -grinned broadly, showing a gaping hole in his upper -jaw where two front teeth were missing.</p> - -<p>“You betcher life it won’t be that ter-morrow -night,” he said loudly. “After we’ve wiped up the -ground with them dudes, training is broke, and it’s -me for the beer can. Gee! I wisht I could have a -schooner ter-night. I got a thirst a yard long.”</p> - -<p>He was a big, burly, rough-looking fellow, with a -bull neck and amazingly long arms. A jagged scar, -running from the edge of his close-cropped, stubby -hair almost to the corner of his hard mouth, gave a -sinister expression to his unattractive face. It was not -the face of a man one would care about encountering -in a lonely place on a dark night.</p> - -<p>While McDonough did not exactly live up to his -tough appearance, there were yet vague stories afloat<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>111</span> -concerning him which were not the most creditable. -Nothing had ever been proved against him, but where -there’s smoke, there is usually some fire; and there was -a general impression in Forest Hills that Bill McDonough -would allow few things to stand between him -and the accomplishment of a purpose.</p> - -<p>He was one of the foremen at the Mispah Mine, -the acknowledged leader of the mine boys, and the -star pitcher on Orren Fairchilds’ baseball team.</p> - -<p>There was a speculative look in Morrison’s dark -eyes as he watched the fellow drink his vichy at a -gulp and then call for more.</p> - -<p>Then a sudden idea flashed into his mind, and he -leaned toward his two companions.</p> - -<p>“Say, fellows,” he whispered, “I’ve a good mind to -call Bill over and tell him about this business of -Merriwell’s pitching to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Burgess frowned a bit.</p> - -<p>“What good will that do?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Morrison hesitated for an instant.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said significantly, “you know Bill’s reputation. -If he should pick a fight with Merriwell, or -do something equally effective, Gardiner would be -minus a pitcher.”</p> - -<p>The stout fellow leaned back in his chair and surveyed -his friend curiously.</p> - -<p>“Sometimes you’re one too many for me, Morrie,” -he said slowly. “Where do you get these ideas, anyhow? -Would you really think of doing a thing like -that?”</p> - -<p>Morrison looked a little annoyed.</p> - -<p>“You’re too finicky altogether, George,” he -returned. “I shouldn’t be doing anything out of the -way by simply telling McDonough that this Merriwell -is going to take my place in the box to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you know well enough what I mean,” Burgess<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>112</span> -retorted. “What’s your object in telling him? Because -you hope Bill will do something dirty to prevent -Merriwell’s playing.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see anything out of the way about it,” put -in Hewett. “It would be an easy way of getting -even.”</p> - -<p>The stout chap looked at him contemptuously -through narrowed lids.</p> - -<p>“Quite your style, isn’t it?” he inquired.</p> - -<p>Then he turned to Morrison.</p> - -<p>“Go ahead and tell him if you’re set on it,” he said -shortly. “But I wash my hands of the business. I -refuse to be mixed up in it.”</p> - -<p>He got up from the table, and, without further -words, walked to the door and disappeared.</p> - -<p>“George is amusing when he throws one of those -virtuous bluffs,” he said sarcastically.</p> - -<p>He glanced over at the other table.</p> - -<p>“Say, Bill—McDonough,” he called.</p> - -<p>The big fellow looked around quickly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, hello, Morrison,” he bellowed. “How’s -things?”</p> - -<p>“Come over here a minute, will you? I want to -talk to you.”</p> - -<p>“Sure, Mike.”</p> - -<p>McDonough arose and, stepping over to the chair -Burgess had just vacated, plumped himself down.</p> - -<p>“Well, what’s up?” he inquired, with a grin.</p> - -<p>“What’ll you have—vichy?”</p> - -<p>“Sure. I could drink gallons of the stuff without -quenching my thirst.”</p> - -<p>Morrison beckoned to a waiter and ordered a siphon -of vichy, then he leaned forward with his elbows on -the table and surveyed the hulking giant before him.</p> - -<p>“I just wanted to give you a little point about the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>113</span> -game to-morrow,” he said significantly. “Do you -know who’s going to pitch?”</p> - -<p>“Sure,” grinned McDonough. “Some guy from -Yale College.”</p> - -<p>Morrison’s jaw dropped.</p> - -<p>“Who told you?” he gasped in astonishment.</p> - -<p>“Why, the old man. Who else do you s’pose -would?”</p> - -<p>“The old man!” Morrison exclaimed in bewilderment. -“Fairchilds, you mean? How the deuce did -he find out?”</p> - -<p>“Give it up. Told us to-night when he come up for -practice.”</p> - -<p>Morrison was silent for a moment.</p> - -<p>“You take it pretty calmly,” he said presently, a -morose scowl on his face.</p> - -<p>“Why shouldn’t I?” demanded McDonough. “The -old man said he was a crackajack, but I guess he -won’t get much on yours truly.”</p> - -<p>Morrison threw back his head and laughed, long -and loud.</p> - -<p>“Say, you’re pretty -<a name="cocky" id="cocky"></a> -<ins title="Original has 'corky'">cocky</ins>, -Bill, aren’t you?” he inquired. -“I suppose you think there isn’t a man living -that can strike you out. Did you know that this -Merriwell is the best amateur pitcher and all-around -baseball player in the country. The managers of the -big-league teams have had their eyes on him ever since -he entered Yale. He could get any price he wanted -this minute, if he’d go into professional ball. Why, -you’ll be easy fruit. He’ll make pie of you and your -whole team. There won’t be any pieces left to pick -up. He’ll make a holy show of you to-morrow unless——”</p> - -<p>He hesitated, his eyes fixed curiously on the big -man’s face, which during that short speech had mirrored -a variety of emotions that were passing through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>114</span> -the man’s mind. Incredulity, surprise, amazement, -uneasiness, and consternation flitted rapidly across it -and finally gave place to a sinister look of rage which -was not prepossessing.</p> - -<p>“Say, what yer giving us?” he said hoarsely.</p> - -<p>“The truth,” Morrison returned simply. “He’s all -I said he was, and more.”</p> - -<p>Taking out his cigarette case, he selected a cigarette, -passing the case to Hewett. Lighting up, he leaned -back in his chair, his eyes fixed keenly on McDonough’s -face.</p> - -<p>The big man was staring absently at the table, -his heavy brows drawn together in a black scowl. -With one square, callous forefinger he traced a pattern -with some vichy which had spilled on the polished -surface. All at once he raised his head and looked -fixedly at Morrison, who gave a slight start at the -expression he saw in those sullen orbs.</p> - -<p>“Unless—what?” demanded McDonough in a suppressed -tone.</p> - -<p>Morrison hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Unless—well, there’re plenty of ways to stop a man -from playing baseball,” he finished lightly.</p> - -<p>For a full minute the two looked at each other in -silence. It seemed that something was passing from -one mind to the other. Then the big fellow arose -slowly to his feet.</p> - -<p>“Much obliged,” he said shortly.</p> - -<p>Without another word he returned to his table, and -a moment later Morrison and Hewett passed out -through the bar and into the street.</p> - -<p>“I—think—I’ll go home,” stammered the latter. -“It’s getting late.”</p> - -<p>His weak face was a little pale and his hands shook -nervously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>115</span> -“Well, so-long, Hew,” his companion said carelessly. -“See you at the game to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Left alone, he strolled aimlessly down the street -until he came to the entrance of the Burlington Hotel. -There he hesitated for a few moments and finally -went up the steps and into the lobby.</p> - -<p>As he did so he gave a sudden start. Across the -room, seated sidewise on a big leather sofa, was Dick -Merriwell. His back was toward the entrance and he -was deep in conversation with some one whose face -Morrison could not distinguish.</p> - -<p>The sofa was one of those large double ones with a -high back between the two seats, and, almost without -realizing why he did it, Morrison walked softly across -the lobby, and sat down on the other side with an air -of affected carelessness.</p> - -<p>Merriwell was talking, and Morrison could distinguish -the words quite plainly.</p> - -<p>“You never saw such a baseball crank in your life. -I don’t believe he thinks of anything else out of business -hours. He says if we come up to the mine at nine -to-morrow he’ll have us shown all around.”</p> - -<p>Morrison gave a start and his dark eyes gleamed.</p> - -<p>“The mine!” he muttered to himself. “They’re -going through the mine to-morrow, and McDonough’s -foreman on the lower level. What a chance!”</p> - -<p>Without stopping to hear more, he sprang up and -went hurriedly into the writing room, where he sat -down at a small table and drew a sheet of the hotel -paper from the rack.</p> - -<p>First carefully tearing off the heading, he picked up -a pen and wrote rapidly. Then he looked around for -a blotter, but there was none in sight.</p> - -<p>“Where the deuce do they keep the things?” he -muttered angrily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>116</span> -Finally he jerked open a drawer and found a stack -of new ones inside. He snatched up one of them and -carefully blotted the scrawl. Then he folded the note -and put it in his pocket.</p> - -<p>“I must get a plain envelope at the stationer’s,” he -murmured, “and then find a boy to take it to Dolan’s -before Bill gets away. I rather think you may have -an interesting time at the mine to-morrow, my friend.”</p> - -<p>As Morrison peered out into the lobby, he was -dismayed to find that Merriwell and his friend Buckhart -had left the sofa and were talking to the clerk -at the desk. His first instinctive impulse was to dodge -back into the writing room. Then he gave a muttered -exclamation.</p> - -<p>“Pshaw! What a loon I am! I’ve got as much -right in this hotel as he has, and he’ll never know what -I came here for.”</p> - -<p>Squaring his shoulders, he stalked toward the entrance, -with eyes averted from the desk, and disappeared -into the darkness.</p> - -<p>“There goes your friend, the pitcher, pard,” Buckhart -grinned. “Wonder what that varmint’s doing -here.”</p> - -<p>Dick shrugged his shoulders as he turned away -from the desk.</p> - -<p>“Give it up, Brad,” he said carelessly. “I don’t -know that I care very much. I want to write a letter -to Frank. Will you wait for me, or join Tommy -and Bouncer upstairs?”</p> - -<p>The big Texan yawned.</p> - -<p>“Sure, I’ll wait,” he said. “Might as well scrawl -off a note myself, since I’ve got the chance.”</p> - -<p>They went into the writing room, and each sat -down at a small table. Taking a sheet of paper from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>117</span> -the rack, Dick wrote rapidly for several minutes. He -was telling Frank what they had been doing for the -past few days, and, when he had finished that, he -stopped to think out their <a name="itinerary" id="itinerary"></a><ins title="Original has 'itineray'">itinerary</ins> for the next week.</p> - -<p>“Let’s see,” he murmured meditatively. “We’ll stay -here over Sunday, and start Monday morning. By -Monday night we ought to be in——”</p> - -<p>He stopped, his eyes fixed curiously on the oblong, -white blotter which lay before him.</p> - -<p>“That’s funny,” he said slowly.</p> - -<p>The Texan looked up from his letter.</p> - -<p>“What is?”</p> - -<p>Dick did not answer at once. He picked up the -blotter and scrutinized it closely. It was a fresh one -and apparently had been used but once. Evidently -some one had written a short note in a heavy, scrawly -hand with a stub pen, and blotted it in haste. What -had attracted the Yale man’s attention was his own -name reversed, which appeared almost at the top of the -blotter.</p> - -<p>“This is very interesting,” he said at length. “Somebody -seems to have been taking my name in vain, and -I’m a little curious to see what the connection is.”</p> - -<p>He pushed back his chair and stood up, the blotter -in one hand. Over the mantel at the other end of -the room was a long mirror, and walking across to it, -Dick held the blotter up to the glass. Buckhart had -also risen and was looking at the reflection over his -friend’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Merriwell,” deciphered Dick slowly; “mine—to-morrow—your -chance—miss—want to put—business—pitch.”</p> - -<p>The Yale pitcher turned and eyed his friend quizzically.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>118</span> -“This is decidedly interesting,” he remarked. “Even -more so than I expected. There’s some more words -in between the others that are not very clear, but perhaps -we can make something out of them. Get a -sheet of paper and a pencil, will you, Brad?”</p> - -<p>The Texan made haste to bring paper and pencil, -and, laying the former on the mantel shelf, Dick -studied the blotter carefully again. Presently he -wrote something on the paper and turned again to the -blotter.</p> - -<p>He kept this up for ten or fifteen minutes in silence, -and at the end of that time he picked up the paper and -carried it back to one of the desks.</p> - -<p>“That’s about all I can make out,” he said, as he -sat down and spread the sheet out before him. “Draw -up a chair and let’s see how it reads.”</p> - -<p>The Texan pulled a chair up, and they bent their -heads over the desk.</p> - -<p>What they saw was fairly clear. A few letters -were missing, but not enough to destroy the sense of -the letter.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“Merriwell wi—be—mine to-morrow—ni— —— -ock. —his—s your chance. —nt miss it—yo— want -to put hi— —ut of business so—e —an— pitch —— -nst —ou.”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>“That’s as plain as daylight,” Dick said, with satisfaction. -“Put in the few letters which are missing, -and it will read like this:</p> - -<p>“‘Merriwell will be at the mine to-morrow at nine -o’clock. This is your chance. Don’t miss it, if you -want to put him out of business so he cannot pitch -against you.’</p> - -<p>“That’s really the most interesting epistle I’ve read -in a long time, old fellow,” Merriwell went on. “Short,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>119</span> -and to the point. No address, no signature. The -plot thickens, Bradley, my boy.”</p> - -<p>“It sure does, pard—a-plenty,” growled the Westerner. -“I’d like to know the onery varmint that wrote -it. I’d make him a whole lot shy about repeating the -performance. You hear me softly warble!”</p> - -<p>“I’d rather know who it was written to,” Dick said -meditatively. “Then I’d know who to look out for.”</p> - -<p>He looked at Buckhart with a sudden gleam in his -eyes.</p> - -<p>“Did you notice where Morrison came from when -he went through the lobby a little while ago?” he asked -slowly.</p> - -<p>The Texan brought his clenched fist down on the -desk with a crash that made the pens and inkwells -bounce.</p> - -<p>“By the great horn spoon!” he exploded. “He came -out of this very room. The miserable snake in the -grass! He ought to be tarred and feathered, only -that’s a heap too good for the coyote.”</p> - -<p>Dick smiled quietly.</p> - -<p>“I rather thought he might be the one,” he remarked. -“It’s the sort of trick you’d expect from a fellow like -that. He’s evidently found out that we’re going to -play to-morrow, and he’s so dead sore that he’s willing -to do anything to prevent it.”</p> - -<p>He glanced at the letter again.</p> - -<p>“Written to some one in the mine, that’s plain,” he -murmured. “Also some one who plays on their nine. -Notice where he says, ‘so he cannot pitch against you.’ -Well, I don’t know that we can glean any more information -by poring over this thing. We’ll have to -keep our eyes open to-morrow at the mine and look -out for snags. I’ll just keep this blotter; we may have -use for it sometime.”</p> - -<p>He tucked it carefully away in his pocket, together<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>120</span> -with the transcription he had made, and resumed his -letter. When this was finished he addressed and -stamped it, and, after posting it in the lobby, the two -chums stepped into the <a name="elevator" id="elevator"></a><ins title="Original has 'elvator'">elevator</ins> and were carried up to -their rooms, where Tucker and Bouncer had retired -more than an hour before.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>121</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xi">CHAPTER XI.<br /> -<span>THE EXPLOSION.</span></h2> - - -<p>The Mispah Mining Company of Forest Hills had -the reputation of being one of the best managed, as -well as one of the most paying, propositions of its -kind in the State.</p> - -<p>Though technically a stock company, it was practically -owned by the two brothers, John and Orren Fairchilds, -who were thoroughly up to date in their -methods and believed in giving their employees the -benefit of every possible convenience and comfort.</p> - -<p>The natural result was that the men gave them -willingly more real work and good results than they -could possibly have secured by the grasping, driving -methods of some more shortsighted business men; -labor troubles were practically eliminated, and everything -worked smoothly and in perfect harmony.</p> - -<p>The mine was located in the mountains to the north -of Forest Hills. In fact, that portion of the town, occupied -mainly by the miners, with its rows upon rows -of comfortable frame cottages, closely abutted on the -land owned by the company along the level ground at -the foot of the rocky slope, where was situated the -large brick office building, which was used by the officers -of the company, their clerks, surveyors, draftsmen, -and civil engineers.</p> - -<p>Here were also storehouses, railroad sidings, and -a number of other buildings, which looked almost -like a little town in itself, while behind the office -building was the baseball diamond, laid out by the enthusiastic -Orren Fairchilds, with its grand stand, -bleachers, and high board fencing, complete.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>122</span> -Halfway up the side of the mountain, perhaps a -thousand feet above the level, was the main shaft of -the mine, with its shaft house, pumping station and all -the infinite details which go to the proper equipment -of a mine. Made of timber cased in sheet iron, well -painted, they seemed to be poised on the side of the -mountain like a fly on a wall, and the stranger always -expressed wonderment as to how they had been built -in that apparently inaccessible spot.</p> - -<p>Connecting the two levels curved the inclined track, -down which shot cars, filled with ore destined for the -smelter, to be carried back empty, or filled with supplies, -shifts of laborers, or any one else who wanted -to go up to the mine. For this was the only way of -reaching the mouth of the shaft.</p> - -<p>At five minutes before nine the <i>Wizard</i>, with Dick -Merriwell at the wheel, whirled through the open -gates which marked the entrance to the property of the -Mispah Mining Company, and drew up before the -handsome office building.</p> - -<p>The four Yale men alighted and walked into the -main office, where Dick sent his card in to the mine -owner. The office boy returned with a message that -Mr. Fairchilds would be out in a few moments, so -they made themselves comfortable on a heavy oak -bench that stood near the door.</p> - -<p>In less than ten minutes Dick’s friend of the night -before appeared from his private office, and advanced -with outstretched hand.</p> - -<p>“Well, well, my boy, how are you this morning?” -he said briskly. “I hope you’re ready for a good -sweat. It’s pretty warm down on the lower level.”</p> - -<p>Then his eye fell on Buckhart.</p> - -<p>“Bless my soul!” he exclaimed. “The Yale catcher, -or I’ll eat my hat! I don’t know your name, but I -never forget a face.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>123</span> -“Buckhart,” Dick put in, as the Texan shook the -older man’s hand. “Bradley Buckhart from Texas.”</p> - -<p>“Glad to meet you—very glad,” the mine owner said -in his sharp, incisive manner. “Have you brought -any more of your team with you, Merriwell? I foresee -that my boys will have to stir themselves to lick -you this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>Dick smiled.</p> - -<p>“Tommy Tucker, here, sometimes plays short,” he -explained. “He’s going to hold down centre field -to-day.”</p> - -<p>There was a whimsical look of mock consternation -on Orren Fairchilds’ face as he shook hands with -Tucker and Bigelow.</p> - -<p>“I wish you’d brought the other six along,” he -said. “There’d be some honor in beating the Yale -varsity.”</p> - -<p>Without waiting for a reply, he ushered them into -an adjoining room, which was fitted up with a number -of lockers, and opening one of them he began -to toss out a variety of garments.</p> - -<p>“We’ll have to change here,” he explained. “There’d -be very little left of your regular clothes if you went -down in them.”</p> - -<p>In the course of five minutes all five were arrayed in -rough woolen trousers, flannel shirt, heavy shoes, and -felt hats. The transformation was astonishing. But -for the healthy tan on their faces, they might easily -have been taken for a party of laborers, ready for -their daily descent into the mine.</p> - -<p>The mine owner then led the way through the office -and across the yard to a platform outside the -smelter. Here they climbed into one of the short, -dumpy little ore cars and were borne swiftly up the -incline.</p> - -<p>It took but a minute to reach the top, where they<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>124</span> -found, to their surprise, that there was a good deal -more space than they had supposed.</p> - -<p>Jumping out of the car, they followed their guide -into the pump house where they gazed in surprise -at the huge engines which worked night and day pumping -air into the underground workings, and drawing -out through the ventilation shafts the hot, poisonous -vapors from below.</p> - -<p>From thence they passed quickly to the shaft house, -where two mammoth hoisting engines of a thousand -horse power each operated the cages, of which there -were four, the main shaft being divided into that -number of compartments.</p> - -<p>The engineer and his assistant nodded as the chief -entered.</p> - -<p>“Be one along in a minute, Mr. Fairchilds,” the -former said, as he glanced at the dial before him.</p> - -<p>In less than that time, a cage shot up from the shaft -and two miners stepped out. One of them was a big, -burly fellow with a long scar on one side of his face.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Bill,” the mine owner called. “After anything -important? I want you to show us around -down below.”</p> - -<p>The fellow grinned, displaying a void on his upper -jaw where two front teeth were missing.</p> - -<p>“Need a little powder, that’s all,” he said. “I’ll be -with you in a jiffy.”</p> - -<p>He strode out of the door, and Orren Fairchilds -turned to Dick.</p> - -<p>“That’s my prize pitcher,” he explained. “Six -months ago he knew as much about baseball as a two-year-old, -and I thought he’d never be able to get a -ball over the plate. But he was anxious to learn, and -we kept at it. I’m proud of him now.”</p> - -<p>The fellow came back on the run, a package of dynamite -sticks swinging carelessly from one hand. At the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>125</span> -sight of them, Bigelow’s fat face turned pale and he -edged away a little.</p> - -<p>“My goodness!” he whispered hoarsely to Tucker. -“Look at the way he carries them. What if they -should drop.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry, Bouncer,” Tommy returned, with a -nonchalance he was far from feeling. “It needs a -spark combined with the concussion to set it off.”</p> - -<p>“Still, I don’t like it,” complained the fat chap.</p> - -<p>The mine owner had paused at the cage door.</p> - -<p>“Merriwell, shake hands with my pitcher, McDonough,” -he said briskly. “You two boys will be up -against each other good and hard this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>Dick put out his hand promptly, and the miner’s -great paw closed over it with a grip which gave a -hint of amazing strength. He looked the Yale man -straight in the eyes, and for a brief instant Merriwell -seemed to read something like a threat which flashed -into those dark orbs and was gone.</p> - -<p>“Glad to know you,” McDonough said quietly. “I -reckon we’ll try to give the grand standers the worth -of their money.”</p> - -<p>He followed Dick into the cage and dropped the -dynamite on the floor with a thump which made -Bouncer jump nervously. Then the descent began.</p> - -<p>In an instant the floor of the shaft house had vanished -and they were dropping noiselessly into the darkness, -lit only by the flickering rays of the lantern which -hung from the top of the cage, showing the timbers -that lined the shaft seemingly leaping upward.</p> - -<p>Bigelow caught his breath in a sudden gasp and -clutched Tucker’s wrist convulsively.</p> - -<p>Presently the cage passed a large, irregular, well-lighted -room opening back into the rock from the -side of the shaft. Men were busy there, and they -could hear the throbbing of machinery at work.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>126</span> -“That’s one of the stations,” explained Fairchilds. -“It’s the opening to one of the intermediate levels, -but we won’t stop. I want you to see the lowest -level.”</p> - -<p>Down they went. Other stations flashed past at -regular intervals until they had counted seven or eight -of them. Presently the cable supporting the car began -to take on a peculiarly disagreeable bobbing motion, -which gave the novices an odd sensation, as though -they were hung over an abyss by a rubber strap, and -caused Bouncer to clutch Tucker again and gasp -anew. Then the car stopped and they stepped out onto -the floor.</p> - -<p>The station of the lowest lift was like all those they -had passed—well-lighted, walled, floored and roofed -with heavy planking, and filled with all sorts of mining -supplies. A narrow-gauge track led from the shaft -back into the drift, or tunnel beyond, which was fairly -well lighted by electric globes at intervals along the -walls.</p> - -<p>McDonough took the lead, and they at once plunged -into the tunnel, which had a barely perceptible upward -grade.</p> - -<p>“Follows the course of the vein, you understand,” -the mine owner explained, as he pointed out where -the ore had been taken out along one side of the drift. -“We’ll get to where they’re working in a few minutes, -and then you can see how it’s done.”</p> - -<p>“Look out!” yelled McDonough warningly.</p> - -<p>He caught Dick’s arm and drew him back against -the wall, the others following suit, and a moment later a -laden ore car flashed past in the direction of the shaft, -and disappeared.</p> - -<p>Presently they turned into a crosscut, and a few -minutes later they began to pass small groups of men -working at the rock with picks and bars. Almost without<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>127</span> -exception they were stripped to the waist, for the -heat had become oppressive, and was growing greater -as they advanced.</p> - -<p>They crossed the openings of innumerable small -drifts which led out of the main tunnel, some of which -were short, blind tunnels, while others extended for -a long distance, sometimes curving around and returning -to the drift from which they started. It was a -veritable labyrinth.</p> - -<p>At length they reached a spot where a number of -men were loading the ore cars, and the mine owner -stopped.</p> - -<p>“This will show you the working as well as any -place,” he said, taking off his hat and mopping his -forehead. “You notice that the tunnel runs along one -side of the vein? That’s to prevent caving. The ore -is much softer than the rock through which it runs. -You can see for yourselves how it is taken out with -pick and bar. Sometimes we help it along with a -blast.”</p> - -<p>While he was talking Dick stepped up to the side -of the drift and looked closely at the vein. It did not -look in the least like one’s preconceived notion of -gold ore, but the Yale man had had enough experience -to see that it was good stuff.</p> - -<p>“It ain’t as rich here as we struck it a ways back,” -said a voice.</p> - -<p>And turning, Dick saw McDonough standing at his -side.</p> - -<p>“Still, I shouldn’t mind having a couple of thousand -tons of this ore,” Merriwell said, smiling.</p> - -<p>The big fellow grinned.</p> - -<p>“Me neither,” he returned. “But if you’ll step into -this here crosscut, I’ll show you something that’s about -three times as good.”</p> - -<p>For an instant the Yale man hesitated, thinking of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>128</span> -the sinister note on the blotter. But here in this -lighted spot, with men on every side, there was nothing -McDonough could do, even if he was the man to -whom that note was written. Certainly he didn’t -propose to let the fellow think he was afraid.</p> - -<p>“Why, yes,” he said quietly; “I’d like very much to -see it.”</p> - -<p>The rest of the party were busy watching the miners -and paid no attention when Dick turned and followed -the brawny foreman about twenty feet back along the -passage and then into a drift which ran at right angles.</p> - -<p>This drift curved so sharply that they had not -gone more than a dozen steps before the entrance was -lost to sight. Presently McDonough stopped and held -his candle close to the wall.</p> - -<p>“That’s some to the good, I tell you,” he said enthusiastically; -“and it’s better yet further on. We——”</p> - -<p>He broke off abruptly and listened.</p> - -<p>“Gee! There’s the old man calling!” he exclaimed. -“Hold this, will you? I’ll be back in a jiffy.”</p> - -<p>He thrust the candle into Merriwell’s hand and -darted back along the passage. Dick examined the -ore with much interest. It certainly was rich and -averaged much more to the ton than that in the outer -drift. A footstep sounded, and looking up, he saw a -figure advancing toward him from the opposite end -of the passage. For a moment he thought it was McDonough, -and wondered how he had managed to get -around so soon; for he comprehended at once that -the tunnel must have another entrance. Then the -man spoke, and he realized that it was Orren Fairchilds.</p> - -<p>“Taking a look at my prize vein, are you?” the -mine owner said briskly. “How did you find——”</p> - -<p>A sudden, muffled roar drowned his voice. A cloud -of smoke belched from the wall, and the next instant<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>129</span> -a huge section of the rock crashed down into the -tunnel, filling it to nearly half its height, and totally -obliterating every sign of the unfortunate man who -had stood there.</p> - -<p>The cry of horror which Dick Merriwell uttered -as he sprang forward, changed to one of joy when he -saw that, instead of being utterly crushed, Fairchilds -had escaped the heaviest part of the fall by a swift, -forward plunge, and was only pinned down by the -weight of some large chunks of rock which had -dropped on his legs.</p> - -<p>He saw something else, too, which sent a thrill -through him and turned his tanned face a shade less -brown.</p> - -<p>Directly above the mine owner, a great mass of loosened -rock hung as if suspended by a thread, and as -the Yale man glanced up, it quivered a little. The -slightest movement—the vibration of a voice, perhaps—would -send it crashing down on those two beneath. -Yet Dick did not hesitate an instant.</p> - -<p>Swiftly sticking the candle upright in a crevice, he -bent over the fallen man and, with infinite caution, -began to lift the pieces of ore from his legs.</p> - -<p>Despite the shock he had experienced, Orren Fairchilds -was quite conscious. Lying on his back, his -eyes fixed on the tottering mass which was poised -above him, he knew well that death was staring him -in the face, and he appreciated to the full the heroism -of the man who was deliberately risking his own life -in what seemed a futile attempt to save another’s.</p> - -<p>He moistened his dry lips.</p> - -<p>“You can’t do it,” he whispered. “Leave me. Get -back—quickly! Another moment and it will fall!”</p> - -<p>He dared not raise his voice; his eyes never left -the trembling rock above him.</p> - -<p>Dick Merriwell made no answer; apparently he did<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>130</span> -not consider one necessary. One by one the heavy -chunks of rock were lifted up and put aside.</p> - -<p>“Go, I tell you,” repeated the mine owner in that -same suppressed tone. “Why don’t you go? Do you -want to be crushed to death?”</p> - -<p>The Yale man dashed the sweat from his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Do you really think I will?” was all he said.</p> - -<p>“No,” breathed the older man. “No, I don’t; but -I wish——”</p> - -<p>He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening with horror. -The rock was moving. Slowly, slowly, it crept forward, -sending rattling showers of dust and small -stones in its wake.</p> - -<p>“It’s coming!” gasped Fairchilds. “It’s moving! -For God’s sake save yourself!”</p> - -<p>Abandoning all caution, Dick rolled the last piece -of rock from the fallen man and, catching him in his -arms, staggered backward.</p> - -<p>There was another crash, louder than the first, as -the great mass plunged downward into the tunnel. -Something struck Merriwell on the right shoulder, -hurling him against the wall, and thence to his knees.</p> - -<p>Then came the flash of light along the passage, the -sound of hurrying feet, the quick, staccato note of many -voices raised in excitement, and the next instant Dick -felt himself caught up in a powerful grasp and literally -carried out of the drift into the main tunnel.</p> - -<p>Wrenching himself free, he turned and looked into -the face of Brad Buckhart, drawn, white and horror-stricken, -great beads of perspiration standing out on -his forehead.</p> - -<p>“You?” Merriwell exclaimed. “I thought—— Thank -you, old fellow.”</p> - -<p>The Texan drew one sleeve across his forehead.</p> - -<p>“By George, pard!” he grunted; “I sure thought -you were done for that time.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>131</span> -“Where’s Mr. Fairchilds?” Dick asked anxiously. -“Did he get out all right?”</p> - -<p>“He did, thanks to you, my boy.”</p> - -<p>The mine owner’s voice sounded from the tunnel’s -mouth, and the next instant he appeared, supported -by Bill McDonough and another miner. There were -cuts on his head and face, one hand was bruised, and -he could not stand alone; but his eyes were bright -and his voice firm.</p> - -<p>“By gorry!” he exclaimed. “That was the closest -thing I ever saw. I shall never forget this, Merriwell. -Are you hurt?”</p> - -<p>Dick smiled.</p> - -<p>“None to speak of,” he returned. “Shoulder a little -numb, that’s all.”</p> - -<p>“Good.”</p> - -<p>The monosyllable was snapped out like a pistol shot, -and into Orren Fairchilds’ face came a look which -seldom appeared there, and which those who knew him -dreaded. His eyes grew cold and hard and piercing, -and, as he turned slowly from one to another, men -dropped their heads, and with nervously shuffling feet -and crimsoned faces awaited in awe-struck silence the -inevitable explosion.</p> - -<p>It came.</p> - -<p>“Who set off that blast?”</p> - -<p>There was a steely menace to the words as they -issued from the mine owner’s set lips.</p> - -<p>Not a man spoke. Not one in the circle lifted his -eyes. Fear and embarrassment made them all look -equally guilty.</p> - -<p>“McDonough!”</p> - -<p>Fairchilds withdrew his hand from the foreman’s -arm, and the big fellow took a step forward.</p> - -<p>“McDonough, you’re in charge of this level,” -snapped the mine owner. “Who set off that blast?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>132</span> -The man with the scar moistened his lips with his -tongue. His face was a little pale, but he met his -chief’s eyes squarely.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” he said in a level tone—“so help -me, I don’t.”</p> - -<p>There was a momentary silence as the bright, steely -eyes of the smaller man seemed to bore into the foreman’s -very soul.</p> - -<p>“You don’t know?” he rasped. “You must know! -A blast can’t be planted without your knowing.”</p> - -<p>The burly giant never hesitated.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know it was planted,” he said in a low -tone—“I swear I didn’t. That’s what I brought the -powder down for. If you want to know what I -think, I bet it was meant for me. There’s -a lot of fellows here’s got a grudge agin’ -me ’cause they think I drive ’em hard; and -I bet one of ’em put that blast there while I was -up above, thinking to let it off the first time I went in -there. When they seen me go in with Mr. Merriwell, -they done the trick.”</p> - -<p>“Humph!” snapped Fairchilds. “What made you -leave Mr. Merriwell there?”</p> - -<p>“I thought I heard you calling me.”</p> - -<p>The mine owner looked a little doubtful.</p> - -<p>“I did call you,” he said slowly.</p> - -<p>He tried to take a step forward, and a twinge of -pain crossed his face.</p> - -<p>“Get an empty,” he said shortly. “I can’t stand here -any longer. I’ve got to go up.”</p> - -<p>His stern eyes left McDonough’s face and traveled -swiftly over the other men.</p> - -<p>“But this thing is not going to drop,” he rasped. -“I’ll find out who set off that blast if I have to grill -every man in the shift. I’m going to get at the truth -somehow.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>133</span> -An empty ore car was brought up and the mine -owner helped into it. He was followed by the other -members of the party. As McDonough stepped forward -to help Dick into the car, the Yale man looked -at him keenly, searchingly, with narrowed lids. It -was the briefest sort of a glance, but there was something -in Merriwell’s eyes which caused the burly giant -to move uneasily and turn away his head.</p> - -<p>Dick sprang into the car without assistance. They -moved slowly down the crosscut to the main drift, -and were soon back at the station again.</p> - -<p>By the time the mine owner’s office was reached, -Fairchilds was able to hobble along without assistance, -though he still suffered considerable pain. He led the -Yale men into his private office, where he insisted on -Dick’s taking off his shirt so that his shoulder could -be attended to.</p> - -<p>Though Merriwell made light of it, there was an -ugly bruise where the piece of rock had struck him, and -his whole arm pained him, as if it had been badly hurt. -Fairchilds’ secretary, who was experienced in looking -after such things, painted it well with iodine, after -he had assured himself that there were no bones -broken, and cautioned Dick about taking care of it -for a few days, so as not to strain it further.</p> - -<p>“Swell chance I’ll have of taking care of it, with a -game on this afternoon,” Dick remarked, as they were -changing their clothes in the small room off the main -office.</p> - -<p>“Great Scott, pard!” Buckhart exclaimed in dismay. -“I’d clean forgot the game. How in thunder are you -going to pitch?”</p> - -<p>Dick smiled.</p> - -<p>“Be a south paw, I reckon, if I find the other wing -won’t stand the racket.”</p> - -<p>“But can you swing a bat?” Tucker put in anxiously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>134</span> -“I hope so,” Merriwell said quietly. “It’s not so -bad as all that, and it will be much easier this afternoon. -Don’t worry, Tommy; we’ll get through somehow. -I’ve got to pitch, you know. There isn’t anybody -else.”</p> - -<p>They had already said good-by to the mine owner, -so when they finished dressing they went out to the -car. Dick took his seat at the wheel while the Texan -turned the engine over.</p> - -<p>As they went through the gates, Tucker leaned forward -from the tonneau.</p> - -<p>“Where are you going?” he asked curiously.</p> - -<p>Merriwell’s eyebrows went up a little.</p> - -<p>“Why, to the Field Club, of course,” he returned. -“Have you forgotten that we promised Gardiner to -come there directly from the mine? We didn’t get -half enough practice yesterday.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>135</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xii">CHAPTER XII.<br /> -<span>THE GAME BEGINS.</span></h2> - - -<p>A steady stream of baseball fans poured into the -Field Club grounds. It was Saturday; there was not -a cloud in the sky, and it seemed as though every man -and boy, as well as the greater part of the women, of -Forest Hills had made up their minds to witness the -great game.</p> - -<p>In perfect equality clerks rubbed elbows with their -“bosses.” Newsboys, with bare feet and dirty faces, -shouted witticisms over the shoulders of bankers and -merchants. Miners, in their rough working clothes, -thronged the field in great numbers and kept up a continuous -roar for their team. Automobiles had been -barred from the grounds that afternoon, but an endless -string of them lined the street outside.</p> - -<p>The game was scheduled for three-thirty. At two -the grand stand was crowded and the bleachers filled -to overflowing. An hour later there was not a seat -to be had for love or money; men were scattered all -<a name="around" id="around"></a><ins title="Original has 'aroung'">around</ins> the diamond, wherever they could find a place -to stand, and a solid mass of humanity lined the fence -back of the field. The wide veranda of the clubhouse -was jammed to the very rail with wives and daughters -of the members, in their bright summer dresses, whose -gay chatter added a lighter note to ceaseless hum of -many voices.</p> - -<p>As the hour struck the mine boys took the field -for fifteen minutes of short, snappy practice. As they -did so a great roar went up from the bleachers, which -continued long and loud until stilled by the upraised -hand of Orren Fairchilds, who, despite his injury<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>136</span> -of that morning, seemed to be as active as any man -on the field.</p> - -<p>There was an anxious look on Gardiner’s face as -he came over to where Dick was warming up.</p> - -<p>“How’s the arm, old fellow?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Left’s all right, but I’m afraid there’s nothing -doing with the other,” Merriwell answered. “I can -toss a couple with it, but that’s the limit. Begins to -pain right away.”</p> - -<p>“Think you can pitch nine innings with your left?” -Gardiner inquired.</p> - -<p>The Yale man smiled.</p> - -<p>“I’ll have to,” he said quietly. “What troubles me -more is swinging a bat. I can’t put any strength into -it. Guess I won’t be much use to you in the hitting -line.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry about that,” the curly haired fellow -said quickly. “If you can only pitch through the -game the rest of us will try and look after the batting. -I reckon it’s time for us to take the field.”</p> - -<p>As the Field Club team took the places of their -opponents in the field, there was a good deal of cheering -and stamping from the grand stand, but a noticeable -silence from the occupants of the bleachers. Evidently -the miners did not propose to waste their breath -on the opposing nine.</p> - -<p>With the hand on the big clock in the clubhouse -tower creeping toward the half hour, the fans began -to grow impatient. There was much shuffling of feet, -catcalls and shrill whistles arose and mingled with -them, cries of:</p> - -<p>“Get a move on!”</p> - -<p>“Get busy!”</p> - -<p>“Play ball!”</p> - -<p>At exactly three-thirty, the fellows raced in from the -field, and the two captains got together with the umpires<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>137</span> -for the toss. The Field Club men won, and -promptly took the field again amidst a roar of approval -from the crowd.</p> - -<p>The first man up was Jimmy Rooney, the Mispah -catcher, a short, stocky, muscular fellow, with reddish -hair and a mass of freckles. As he walked to the -plate a cheer went up from the bleachers, which was -quickly stilled as the umpire tore off the wrappings -from a ball and tossed it to Dick.</p> - -<p>“Play ball!” he called.</p> - -<p>The Yale man caught it in his left hand and toed -the rubber. Buckhart crouched and gave the signal -for an outcurve, and the next moment the ball left -Merriwell’s hand.</p> - -<p>“Ball one!” yelled the umpire.</p> - -<p>The next one was also wild.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let him fool you, Jim,” advised the mine -owner. “Make him put it over.”</p> - -<p>A moment later Merriwell got the inside corner of -the plate, and Rooney failed to swing.</p> - -<p>“Strike!” barked the umpire, with an upward motion -of his right hand.</p> - -<p>The red-headed catcher squared himself and dug -his toes into the ground. He wouldn’t let another -good one get by.</p> - -<p>Merriwell took the signal for a drop. He started -the ball high, but it dropped sharply and swiftly and -Rooney decided to strike. Lunging at it, he hit it -on the upper side of his bat and popped it high above -the infield.</p> - -<p>It was an easy fly and Reddy Maxwell got under it -confidently. Perhaps he was too confident. At all -events, he caught it and—dropped it.</p> - -<p>Despite the fact that it seemed a sure out, Rooney<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>138</span> -was racing toward first as hard as he could go, and -by the time Maxwell snatched up the ball and lined -it to Gardiner, the miner had touched the bag.</p> - -<p>Maxwell’s face was crimson as he trotted back to -position.</p> - -<p>“Hard luck, old fellow,” Dick said quietly.</p> - -<p>“Blamed rotten, you mean,” Reddy retorted. “I -ought to be kicked all over the place.”</p> - -<p>Herman Glathe, a tall, blond German, came to the -bat; and, at the first delivery, Rooney, who had taken -a good lead off the cushion, went down the line toward -second like a race horse.</p> - -<p>It almost seemed as though Buckhart, having caught -the ball, waited an instant for Maxwell to cover -the sack. Then he sent the horsehide sphere whistling -straight as a bullet into the hands of the red-haired -shortstop, who bent a little forward to receive it -and jabbed it on to Rooney as the latter slid.</p> - -<p>“Out at second!” announced the umpire.</p> - -<p>But his decision was almost drowned in the excited -shriek which went up from the clubhouse veranda.</p> - -<p>“Good boy!” Dick murmured, as he caught the ball.</p> - -<p>The next moment Glathe had lined out a clean single -into the outfield, and he reached the initial sack amidst -a roar of applause from the bleachers.</p> - -<p>As though to atone for this, Dick teased Sam Allen, -the Mispah second baseman, into striking at the first -two balls pitched. Then followed a couple of wide -ones, but Sam refused to be further beguiled. At -last he landed on what he thought was a good one, and -lifted a high foul back of the pan, away near the -grand stand.</p> - -<p>Like a flash Buckhart snapped off his cage and -perked his head up to get its bearings. Then he -spread himself and just managed to smother the ball<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>139</span> -within five feet of the front line of spectators, who -shrieked a frenzied approval.</p> - -<p>“Two gone, pard,” he grinned, as he lined the ball -out to Dick. “See if you can’t fan this Adonis.”</p> - -<p>Bill McDonough was swaggering to the plate with -a smile of confidence on his ugly face, and, as Merriwell -watched him through narrowed lids, he made up -his mind to strike him out if he could.</p> - -<p>He began on the miner with a jump ball. It shot -upward and McDonough, who had felt certain of hitting -it, missed cleanly, nearly throwing himself down -with the violence of his swing.</p> - -<p>“That’s pitching, pard,” laughed the Texan, as the -sphere buried itself in the pocket of his mitt. “That’s -the kind.”</p> - -<p>The burly giant scowled a little as he stamped his -spikes into the ground and squared himself, crouching -and leaning a bit backward, with his weight on his -right foot.</p> - -<p>Merriwell shifted the ball in his fingers and took -plenty of time. Suddenly he pitched, and the sphere -came humming over with speed that almost made the -air smoke.</p> - -<p>Again McDonough missed.</p> - -<p>A cheer went up from the crowd.</p> - -<p>Dick felt that the batter would expect him to try -a coaxer, for, with no balls called, most pitchers would -feel that they could afford to waste one or two.</p> - -<p>He glanced around at his backers, his foot on the -slab. When he turned, he pitched without the slightest -preliminary swing, sending over a high, straight, -speedy ball. It had been his object, if possible, to -catch the miner unprepared, and he succeeded. The -batter struck a second too late, and the ball spanked -into Buckhart’s glove.</p> - -<p>“Out!” shouted the umpire.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>140</span> -But the word was not heard in the tremendous -roar which went up from the grand stand.</p> - -<p>“Bully work, old fellow!” Glen Gardiner said enthusiastically, -as they trotted in from the field. “You -shut them out beautifully. Shoulder all right?”</p> - -<p>“Fine!” Dick returned.</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ll see if we can’t get a run or two,” the -curly haired captain went on, as he selected a bat. -“Nothing like getting a good start.”</p> - -<p>But his hopes were soon shattered.</p> - -<p>McDonough proved something of a surprise to the -Yale men as they watched his work from the bench. -He was not at all the type of man of which good -pitchers are usually made. Huge almost to unwieldiness, -with muscles sticking out like great cords, at first -sight he seemed to lack the supple, flexible, swiftness -so necessary to good work in the box. Neither did -his rough, brutal face give any indication of mental -agility and well-developed brain power, without which -no twirler can succeed.</p> - -<p>In spite of all this, however, he did astonishingly -well. His chief reliance was a swift straight ball -which started high and ended with a sharp drop. -Besides this he was the master of a few good curves. -But what surprised Merriwell was his amazing headwork. -He seemed almost to read the mind of the -man at the bat, and, by some marvelous intuition, to -give him just the sort of ball he was not expecting.</p> - -<p>Two strikes were called on Gardiner, who then -popped an easy fly to the infield and was caught out.</p> - -<p>Reddy Maxwell promptly fanned, to the tumultuous -enjoyment of the mine crowd on the bleachers.</p> - -<p>Tucker managed to bang a hot liner past second -and got to first by the skin of his teeth. Urged by -Gardiner, who was coaching, he danced off the cushion -and, with the first ball pitched to Arthur Dean, he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>141</span> -scudded down the line like a streak of greased lightning. -Rooney made a perfect throw to second; but -Allen dropped the ball, and Tommy, sliding, was safe.</p> - -<p>It was a wasted effort, for Dean fanned, and the -Forest Hills boys took the field again.</p> - -<p>“That’s the biggest surprise I ever had,” Dick said, -as he sprang up from the bench. “I didn’t think he -had it in him.”</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t have given ten cents for him that many -minutes ago,” growled Buckhart, buckling his chest -protector with a jerk. “He’s sure been well trained.”</p> - -<p>Max Unger, right field, started the inning with a -high fly between short and third, which Garland misjudged, -giving Unger plenty of time to jog to first. -He was followed by Foy, the miner’s third baseman, -who lined a red hot single into the outfield.</p> - -<p>Hodgson, shortstop, knocked a foul back of first, -which Gardiner gathered in; and Hall, the Mispah first -baseman, fanned in short order.</p> - -<p>At second, Unger had been inclined at first to -lead off pretty well, but two or three sudden throws -from Merriwell, prompted by Buckhart’s signals -warned him to stick close to the hassock.</p> - -<p>With two men out and two on bases, Mike Slavinsky, -a stalwart Pole, came to the bat.</p> - -<p>“Now, Slavvy, take it easy,” admonished the mine -owner. “Don’t try to knock the cover off the ball. -Just a nice little single. Rooney comes next, you -know.”</p> - -<p>The big fellow grinned a little as he squared himself -at the plate. But in spite of this warning, he swung -at the first ball with such force that he turned halfway -around.</p> - -<p>“Easy now,” cautioned Fairchilds—“take it easy.”</p> - -<p>Then Slavvy calmed down, let two coaxers go by, -and hit the next ball a smash which sent it across the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>142</span> -infield. Stan Garrick forked at it, but the sphere was -too hot to hold, and he dropped it. While he was -seeking to recover it, Unger made third, Foy landed -on second, and Slavvy was too well down to first to -be caught.</p> - -<p>As Rooney advanced to the bat the Forest Hills infielders -crept up into the diamond. If the miner played -the game he would certainly try for a bunt, and they -balanced themselves on their toes, ready to go after it -if the fellow succeeded in laying one down.</p> - -<p>For some unknown reason he did not try. Instead, -he duplicated his high fly of the inning before, except -that this time there was more muscle behind -it and the ball went sailing into the outfield.</p> - -<p>Buck Garland got under it easily and waited confidently -for it to drop. To his intense dismay and -everlasting shame, he repeated Reddy Maxwell’s error, -but with far graver results.</p> - -<p>The men on bases were off like streaks of greased -lightning, and, by the time Garland had secured the -ball and lined it to third, Unger had crossed the -plate and Foy was halfway down from third.</p> - -<p>To cap the climax he made a high throw which Dean -had to jump for. He succeeded in stopping the ball, -but ere it reached Buckhart’s eager, outstretched hands, -the Irish boy had made a beautiful slide and his finger -tips touched the plate.</p> - -<p>A deafening roar went up from the bleachers, augmented -by the enthusiasm of the men in the grand -stand, and for five minutes the field echoed with the -frantic cheering.</p> - -<p>Glen Gardiner was sick at heart at this display of -errors and the thought that their opponents had secured -a lead of two runs. He looked desperately at -Merriwell, who stood calmly waiting for the next batter -to face him. With two men on bases, there was no<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>143</span> -telling where the mine boys would stop unless the Yale -man checked them at once.</p> - -<p>Dick seemed to be of the same mind, for he proceeded -to fan Glathe in very short order.</p> - -<p>“By Jove, this is fierce!” Gardiner exclaimed, as -his men gathered around the bench. “We’ve got to -brace up. What in the world got into you, Buck, to -do a thing like that?”</p> - -<p>Garland shook his head in <a name="despair2" id="despair2"></a><ins title="Original has 'dispair'">despair</ins>.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, Glen,” he said, with a sickly grin. -“It was awful. I ought to be kicked off the nine. I -expect I’ve lost the game.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” Merriwell said quickly, before the -Forest Hills’ captain could reply. “Don’t say a game -is lost before the third man is out in the last inning. -Don’t even think it, for just as sure as you do, you begin -to lose heart and, whether you realize it or not, -you slump. You don’t make the effort—it doesn’t -seem worth while. A game was never lost for a certainty -in the second inning, boys. What if they have -a lead of two runs? That’s nothing. Two runs are -easily made up—and more. Make up your minds -that we’re going to win this game. We must win it, -and we shall.”</p> - -<p>There was something magnetic in the Yale man’s -manner—something inspiring in his quiet, calm assurance, -which seemed to put heart into the discouraged -fellows, causing their eyes to brighten and their shoulders -to square instinctively. The usually deliberate -Stan Garrick snatched up a bat and advanced to the -plate with the determination to start off with a hit.</p> - -<p>“I must hit it!” he whispered to himself. “I must, -and I will.”</p> - -<p>He was altogether too anxious to hit, and somehow, -McDonough seemed to divine this, for the miner pulled<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>144</span> -him with the first two balls handed up, neither of -which Stan touched.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got him, Bill,” chirped Orren Fairchilds, -who stood a little to one side of the plate. “Keep it -up.”</p> - -<p>“Look out for those wide ones, Stan,” cautioned -Gardiner.</p> - -<p>Garrick knew he had been fooled into striking at -what must have been balls, and he resolved to use better -judgment. It seemed likely that, having deceived -him in such a manner, McDonough would still seek to -lure him into biting at the bad ones, and he resolved -not to repeat the error.</p> - -<p>The burly Mispah pitcher took his time. Dick was -standing beside the mine owner, for it was his turn -next at the bat, and suddenly he caught the flash of -McDonough’s eye as it was turned in his direction.</p> - -<p>It was the briefest possible glance, for the next instant -the miner whipped one over the inside corner of -the plate with all the speed he could command.</p> - -<p>Too late Garrick saw that the ball might be good. -He could not get his bat around to meet it, and therefore -let it pass, hoping the umpire would call it a -ball.</p> - -<p>“You’re out!” came sharply from the umpire.</p> - -<p>Garrick stepped back and tossed his bat on the -ground.</p> - -<p>“Too bad, Stan,” Dick said, as he came forward to -take his place.</p> - -<p>“Take it easy, Merriwell,” Gardiner advised, in a -low tone. “It’s better to let him fan you than to -strain your arm.”</p> - -<p>Dick nodded comprehendingly. All the same he did -not intend to strike out if he could help it.</p> - -<p>He squared himself at the plate and faced the -pitcher. McDonough turned the ball in his hands, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>145</span> -once more the Yale man caught that brief, almost -<a name="imperceptible" id="imperceptible"></a><ins title="Original has 'inperceptible'">imperceptible</ins> flash of the miner’s eyes toward the right.</p> - -<p>Then he toed the plate and sent in a swift one with -a sharp outcurve.</p> - -<p>Merriwell did not move his bat.</p> - -<p>“Ball one!” cried the umpire.</p> - -<p>Again McDonough tried a coaxer, but the Yale -man refused to bite, nor did he budge when the ball -came whistling over the plate a little too high and -cut the pan almost on a level with Dick’s neck.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got him in a hole,” laughed Gardiner. -“He’s going to make you a present of the base.”</p> - -<p>McDonough grinned sourly and then put one -straight over the centre of the plate.</p> - -<p>Dick played the game and let it pass.</p> - -<p>“Strike one!” declared the umpire.</p> - -<p>The miner reached for the inside corner on his -next delivery and caught it.</p> - -<p>“Strike two!”</p> - -<p>Then the Mispah man sought to send over a high -one across Merriwell’s chest.</p> - -<p>Dick lifted his bat, holding it loosely, and dropped -the ball on the ground with a skillful bunt. It rolled -slowly along the base line, and both McDonough and -Rooney dashed after it, while the Yale man flew -toward the base as though endowed with wings. Ten -feet from the sack he launched himself through the -air, feet first, and touched the hassock a second before -the ball plunked into the baseman’s glove.</p> - -<p>“Safe!” yelled the umpire.</p> - -<p>As Buckhart came to the plate, Dick took a good -lead off the cushion, and, with the first ball pitched, -he was away toward second running like a fiend.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing the matter with his legs,” chuckled -Gardiner, as the Yale man picked himself up and -dusted off the front of his shirt, one foot on the bag.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>146</span> -“I only hope he don’t jolt that lame wing of his too -much.”</p> - -<p>This was just what Merriwell was taking particular -pains not to do. He slid either feet first, or on -his left side, and, though the shoulder gave a painful -twinge now and then, he hoped it would hold out.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the big Texan, assured and smiling, -squared himself at the plate. He refused to be fooled -by the first ball, which went a little wide; but he -presently picked out one of McDonough’s benders -which seemed to suit him, hitting it fair and square -with a sharp, snappy swing which sent it out on a line.</p> - -<p>It was a clean drive to the outfield, and two fielders -chased the ball while Brad tore over first and managed -to reach second a moment after Dick crossed the plate -to the accompaniment of shrieks from the crowd, who -billowed to their feet in the excitement of the moment, -wildly waving hats and arms and shouting themselves -hoarse.</p> - -<p>The Field Club team had made a run.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>147</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xiii">CHAPTER XIII.<br /> -<span>AGAINST HEAVY ODDS.</span></h2> - - -<p>Gardiner was jubilant. With a run already, a man -on second, and only one out, things were picking up.</p> - -<p>“Take it easy, Irv,” he said, as Renworth picked -out a bat and advanced to the plate. “All we want is -a nice single.”</p> - -<p>Then he hurried down to the coaching line at first.</p> - -<p>Renworth was not a particularly strong batter. He -was apt to lose his head and misjudge the balls, and, -in spite of his determination to make a clean single or -at least a bunt, he had two strikes called on him almost -before he knew it. Then he popped a high fly -over toward centre field, and, but for an error on the -part of Glathe, he would have been done for. Luckily -the big German muffed the ball, and Renworth -cantered across the initial sack, while Buckhart reached -third.</p> - -<p>“Now, Buck, it’s up to you,” Gardiner cried. “You -know what to do. Say, Tucker, come out and coach, -will you? I’m up next.”</p> - -<p>As Garland came to the plate, Dick kept his eyes -fixed on the burly pitcher. He was very curious to -learn the reason for that momentary sidelong glance -which he gave almost before every delivery. He -thought he had solved the problem, but he was not -quite sure. There it was again! A swift, glinting -flash of his dark eyes, and then he pitched.</p> - -<p>“Strike one!” called the umpire.</p> - -<p>“I thought that was it,” murmured the Yale man -with much satisfaction. “He’s getting his signals -from Fairchilds. That’s pretty clever.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>148</span> -Since his attention had been attracted to the pitcher’s -odd trick of hesitating almost imperceptibly before he -delivered the ball Merriwell had been looking about -for the reason. Soon he saw that the mine owner -never left his position a little back of the base line -some twenty feet to the left of the plate. He noticed, -moreover, that Fairchilds was strangely silent while -his own team was in the field, whereas, with them -at the bat, he took to advising, coaching, and encouraging.</p> - -<p>Dick, therefore, came to the conclusion that his first -impression of the burly miner had been correct. It -was not his brain which was doing such good work, -but that of Orren Fairchilds. The mine owner had -been able to teach the man curves and speed and good -control, but he could not teach him judgment. Instead, -he had done the next best thing, and by means -of a clever system of signals, he himself practically did -the thinking and directed every move made by the -burly giant in the box.</p> - -<p>At first, Renworth was inclined to stick much too -close to the base to suit the vivacious Tucker.</p> - -<p>“Get off! get off!” yapped Tommy. “Stir your -stumps! Get to going! Drift away from that sack, -Irv! Stop hugging it! It isn’t a girl. Get a divorce -from that cushion!”</p> - -<p>Thus admonished, Renworth danced away from the -hassock as McDonough received the ball from Rooney. -Dick noticed the quick flash of his eyes, and the next -instant the burly pitcher whirled without a warning -and lined the sphere to Hall, who covered the base.</p> - -<p>“Slide! Slide!” shrieked Tucker frantically.</p> - -<p>Renworth did his best, but was caught almost by -a hair’s breadth, the umpire declaring him out.</p> - -<p>Then McDonough wound up the inning by striking -out Buck Garland.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>149</span> -“Never mind, boys,” Gardiner said cheerfully, as -they jogged into the field. “They’re only one run -ahead. We’ll make that up.”</p> - -<p>But inning after inning came and went, and the -score remained unchanged.</p> - -<p>As the game wore on McDonough seemed to improve. -His speed grew greater, his control more perfect, -his curves more difficult; but more surprising -than anything else was the wonderful headwork he -displayed. He seemed to divine a batter’s weak points -with marvelous intuitiveness, varying his delivery with -a cleverness which was almost uncanny. In addition -to all that, he made so many brilliant put-outs on bases -that the Forest Hills boys dared not take any chances. -It was as though he had eyes in the back of his head.</p> - -<p>To the great crowd in the grand stand and on -the bleachers, even to the Forest Hills men in the field, -it was an extraordinary exhibition of almost perfect -pitching. Only one among them seemed to realize that -the hulking miner in the box, whose name resounded -almost continually from the mouths of the roaring -thousands, was a mere machine, and that the real -credit belonged to the quiet little man, standing silently -near the home plate, his bright eyes taking in every -inch of the field—a man who had once held a high -place on one of the big leagues, but who was doing -his playing now by proxy.</p> - -<p>Dick Merriwell was fighting desperately against -tremendous odds. As the game progressed his shoulder -grew constantly worse. From the first occasional -twinges it had advanced by leaps and bounds, to a -constant, steady, almost intolerable pain, which caused -him to catch his breath at every throw, and made each -turn at the bat an agony.</p> - -<p>But nothing of this appeared to the men on the -field, much less to the spectators. With splendid grit<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>150</span> -and unflagging cheerfulness he kept at the work without -a murmur, using every cure at his command and -every possible wile on the man at the bat, though not -sparing himself when speed was necessary. And, -thanks to Buckhart’s signals, the mine boys soon discovered -to their cost that they could steal no bases -on the Yale pitcher.</p> - -<p>Off the field Merriwell’s cheery voice, on the coaching -lines or at the plate, put new life into the Forest -Hills fellows and kept them from growing disheartened -as the fierce battle waged without further tangible -results on either side.</p> - -<p>One man on the field saw more than did the others. -The big Texan seemed to realize something of what -his friend was suffering, and the knowledge spurred -him to do more than his best. There were no errors -in the Westerner’s brilliant playing. There were no -passed balls; his throws into the field were swift, accurate, -and perfect; his eyes seemed to take in every -foot of the diamond; and, time and time again, his -rapid signals caused an unexpected put-out on bases.</p> - -<p>At each turn at the bat he made a clean hit; one -was a two-bagger, which the rapid fielding and steady -play of the mine boys made ineffective.</p> - -<p>But, in spite of all this, the seventh inning ended -without either side having added to their score.</p> - -<p>Before Dick went into the box he had Gardiner put -his right arm into a sling. It seemed to him that if -he could have it tied firmly so that it wouldn’t swing -he could get along better.</p> - -<p>“If it’s as bad as that you ought to stop,” protested -the curly haired captain.</p> - -<p>Dick shook his head decidedly.</p> - -<p>“At the beginning of the eighth!” he exclaimed -lightly. “Never! It’s a pity if I can’t hold out for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>151</span> -two innings. We’ve got to get at least a couple of -runs, you know, old fellow.”</p> - -<p>Among the spectators the excitement was intense. -Such a game had never before been seen in Forest -Hills, and every man sat forward on the edge of his -seat, his eyes glued on the field. Something must -happen soon.</p> - -<p>As Dick appeared with his arm in a sling, a voice -from the bleachers roared:</p> - -<p>“His wing is on the bum, boys! Now’s the time -to pile up the runs! Hammer the life out of him!”</p> - -<p>But they did not.</p> - -<p>Merriwell had resolved to hold them down. More -runs at this stage of the game would be fatal, and, -summoning every effort, he put forth all the skill that -was in him. Grimly he kept at the work, pitching with -his left hand, and striking out some of the heaviest -hitters who faced him; and in little more than ten minutes -the Mispah boys were back in the field.</p> - -<p>Tucker now started the ball rolling by lining out a -red hot one past shortstop. Dean fanned and Tommy -stole second, making the cushion by a hair’s breadth -amid a cloud of dust. Then Garrick popped a fly -out to left field, and, shrieking with joy, Tucker saw -Slavvy muff it. Tommy scooted to third, while Stan -made first by a close margin.</p> - -<p>Fortune was certainly smiling on the Forest Hills -boys.</p> - -<p>Merriwell slipped the sling from his arm and, picking -up a bat, walked over to the plate.</p> - -<p>He allowed two strikes to be called and then bunted, -sending the ball rolling and squirming toward first. -He was out, but he had accomplished his purpose, for -Tucker slid home and Garrick reached second safely.</p> - -<p>The score was tied, and the crowd in the grand<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>152</span> -stand and about the field shrieked itself hoarse. There -was a sullen silence from the bleachers.</p> - -<p>Gardiner was delighted.</p> - -<p>“That’s going some!” he cried. “Now, Brad, see -if you can bring in another.”</p> - -<p>The Texan refused to be tempted by McDonough’s -coaxers. He forced him to put one straight over and -then fell on it with violent delight. It was a frightful -smash, and the sphere went sailing on a line into the -field to the right of centre.</p> - -<p>There was nothing slow about Garrick as he dashed -across third like a race horse and, in response to Dean’s -frantic urging, kept on toward home. He made the -plate easily, and Buckhart got to second with a splendid -slide.</p> - -<p>“Got ’em going, boys,” Brad shouted—“got ’em -going!”</p> - -<p>The crowd went wild and nearly stamped down the -grand stand.</p> - -<p>Renworth quickly fanned, but the Forest Hills boys -did not care, for they were one run to the good.</p> - -<p>As Merriwell resumed his sling and walked out to -the box he was greeted with a sudden round of applause. -Though they did not know the circumstances, -the crowd seemed suddenly to realize how much of the -success of the game was due to the grit of this cool, -smiling stranger, who, in spite of his injured arm, -was doing such splendid work.</p> - -<p>Herman Glathe, the big German fielder, was the -first to face the Yale twirler.</p> - -<p>Dick took no chances. If he could hold them down -for this inning the game would be won. He pitched -skillfully and with care, and the German fanned.</p> - -<p>“One down, pard,” grinned Buckhart through the -wire meshes of his cage. “Let the good work go on.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>153</span> -Sam Allen, the chipper little second baseman, picked -up his war club and squared himself at the pan.</p> - -<p>Merriwell was not hurrying, nor wasting his time. -Perfectly calm and deliberate in his movements, he -continued his work in the box, and Allen presently got -a high drop which he decided to strike at when he -saw it coming over in a manner that indicated that it -would be good.</p> - -<p>The ball hit the upper side of Allen’s bat and went -into the air.</p> - -<p>Like a flash of lightning, Buckhart tore off his -mask, whirled, looked upward, located the ball, and -went after it.</p> - -<p>A gust of wind carried the ball farther and farther -away, but the Texan stretched himself amazingly and -reached it as it came down. It stuck fast in the pocket -of Brad’s big glove; and the miner’s exasperation was -expressed by the manner in which he fiercely flung his -bat toward the bench.</p> - -<p>Two men were out, and Bill McDonough strode -forward with a look of fierce determination on his -face. He had made up his mind to line out the sphere -or die in the attempt.</p> - -<p>The Yale man was equally determined that he -should not. He was pitching as if life and fortune -depended on his performance. The torturing pain -in his shoulder was forgotten as he grimly faced the -hulking scoundrel at the plate.</p> - -<p>His first ball looked fine to McDonough. Nevertheless, -it shot upward with a little jump, rising over the -miner’s bat as he struck.</p> - -<p>“Strike!” snapped the umpire.</p> - -<p>“Get him, Dick—get him!” implored Tucker. “It -will settle everything! Cook his goose!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>154</span> -McDonough set his teeth with a snarl; his eyes -gleamed fiercely.</p> - -<p>He was ready with every nerve tense, hoping and -desiring to meet Merriwell’s speed fairly. But now, -at this critical point, Dick, after using a delivery -which seemed to prophesy a swift one, handed up the -slowest sort of a slow ball. It came with such exasperating -slowness from the Yale man’s hand, that -something actually seemed holding it back. In spite of -everything he could do, McDonough struck too soon.</p> - -<p>A snarl broke from his lips in a sound which was the -height of rage expressed without words. His face -turned purple and he gripped the handle of his bat -with all the strength in his great hands. As he glared -ferociously at the cool, half smiling face before him, -something like a haze seemed to gather before his -eyes. Before it had passed, Merriwell whistled over -a high, swift ball which cut the plate in halves.</p> - -<p>McDonough seemed to see something flit past, but -it was the spank of the ball into Buckhart’s glove that -told him that Dick had pitched.</p> - -<p>“Out!” cried the umpire.</p> - -<p>With a roar like thunder, the crowd poured down -onto the field in a human cataract from the stand, and, -before he could escape, Merriwell was seized and lifted -up on some one’s shoulders. For a moment he struggled -to get away; then, seeing it would be useless, he -resigned himself to the inevitable and waited calmly -until their enthusiasm should cool.</p> - -<p>After marching about the field for a few minutes, -they came back to the clubhouse and allowed him to -slip to the ground. As he did so, Orren Fairchilds -hurried up.</p> - -<p>“Wonderful work, my boy,” he exclaimed—“wonderful!<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>155</span> -By Jove! I never saw anything like it. It -was a fair, square beat; and every bit of it was due -to you—you and that catcher of yours. How did the -arm hold out?”</p> - -<p>Dick made a wry face.</p> - -<p>“It’s not as comfortable as it might be,” he confessed.</p> - -<p>“Well, I won’t keep you,” the mine owner said -quickly. “You ought to get something on it at once. -Come around to the club and take dinner with me to-night -about seven—bring your friends with you. The -Reform Club, on Locust Street, you know. Good-by.”</p> - -<p>With a wave of his hand, he disappeared into the -crowd; and Dick hastened into the dressing room of -the club.</p> - -<p>A few minutes before seven o’clock that evening -Dick drove the <i>Wizard</i> up to the entrance of the Reform -Club, and slipping the plug into his pocket, -alighted with his three friends.</p> - -<p>In the reception hall an attendant came forward.</p> - -<p>“Is Mr. Fairchilds here,” Dick inquired—“Mr. Orren -Fairchilds?”</p> - -<p>The man looked at him rather curiously.</p> - -<p>“Are you Mr. Merriwell?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Dick nodded.</p> - -<p>“Kindly take the elevator to the third floor,” the -attendant said quickly. “He asked that you be sent up -directly you came. James!”</p> - -<p>A page came forward, and the man said something -to him in a low tone. Then he waved them toward -the elevator, and in a moment they were whisked upstairs.</p> - -<p>The page stepped out first and, going down the hall -a few steps, opened a door and announced clearly:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>156</span> -“Mr. Merriwell!”</p> - -<p>Dick stopped aghast on the threshold. The room -was a private dining room and not small, yet it seemed -to his startled senses to be full of people.</p> - -<p>“There’s some mistake,” he gasped. “I——”</p> - -<p>The mine owner suddenly appeared and seized his -hand.</p> - -<p>“Come in, my boy—come in,” he said briskly. -“What are you afraid of? Just a few people I wanted -you to meet.”</p> - -<p>There was a smile on his face, and he winked at -Buckhart over Merriwell’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>As in a daze, Dick followed his host into the room. -He had a vague recollection of being presented to an -amazing number of men, who smiled at him and shook -his hand warmly. They were of all ages, from gray-haired, -stout, substantial bankers and merchants, down -to clean-cut, good-looking fellows of his own age, -among whom he recognized smiling Glen Gardiner -and most of the other members of the team.</p> - -<p>One, a tall, handsome man of middle age, with a -close-cropped beard and brilliant, kindly eyes, he heard -spoken of as the mayor.</p> - -<p>At length he found himself at one end of a very -long table. Orren Fairchilds was on his left; he had -quite lost sight of Brad and the others.</p> - -<p>Presently the mine owner arose, and, as he did so, -the talk and laughter ceased and silence fell.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” he began slowly. “I have asked you -here to-night to meet a young friend of mine. To -many of you his name is well known as that of the -best amateur pitcher in the country. Most of you had -a chance of seeing his work this afternoon, when he -pitched nine hard innings with as perfect form and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>157</span> -most wonderful display of headwork that I have ever -seen—and entirely with his left arm. His right was -injured, and I should like to tell you how.”</p> - -<p>He paused. The smile had left his face and his -eyes were deep with feeling.</p> - -<p>“In the mine this morning there was a premature -explosion of a blast,” he went on. “I was caught by -the falling rock and pinned to the ground, unable to -stir. As I lay there on my back, I saw a great mass -poised above me, loosened from the top of the tunnel, -ready to fall at a breath and crush the life out of me. -My friend, here, saw it too, and knew that he was -risking almost certain death when he sprang to my -assistance and began to drag the rocks off me.</p> - -<p>“I begged him to go and leave me. It seemed useless -for us both to perish. Of course, he refused. The -rock began to move. I shrieked to him to go back, -but he did not answer. The next instant he caught me -up and dragged me back just as the mass fell. There -had not been a second to spare. He had saved me at -the risk of his own life.”</p> - -<p>The mine owner paused again, and one hand rested -affectionately on the Yale man’s shoulder. Then he -leaned forward and took up a brimming wine glass.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” he said slowly, as he held it up, “I -drink to Dick Merriwell, the gamest pitcher, the truest -sport, the bravest man I know.”</p> - -<p>Like one man, the company rose, holding their -glasses high. As with one voice the shout of “Merriwell—Dick -Merriwell!” made the rafters ring; and -they drank the toast standing. Then they subsided -into their chairs, and in the silence which followed, -Dick pushed back his chair and stood up slowly.</p> - -<p>His face was flushed, his eyes bright and, as he -looked down that long line of friendly faces, something<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>158</span> -clutched his throat. For a moment he could not -utter a word.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” he stammered huskily. “I—I cannot -say—another word, but just—thank you.”</p> - -<p>He dropped back upon his chair; a thunderous clapping -broke forth, and something like a mist flashed -across the Yale man’s eyes and blurred his sight.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>159</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xiv">CHAPTER XIV.<br /> -<span>THREE MEN OF MILLIONS.</span></h2> - - -<p>Marcus Meyer, head of the wealthy firm of jewelers -who did business under the name of the Meyer Diamond -Company, was pacing restlessly up and down his -luxuriously fitted up private office on the third floor -of the Commercial Building in Denver.</p> - -<p>He was a smooth-shaven, alert Hebrew of about -thirty-nine or forty, well groomed and clothed with a -fastidious taste, which was almost foppish, in garments -of the very latest cut and material. In reality, however, -there was nothing of the fop or fool about -Marcus Meyer. He was a keen, quick-witted business -man of extraordinary cleverness, and had the reputation -of knowing more about the inside conditions of -the diamond industry than any other individual west -of the Alleghenys, save only the great Herman -Spreckles, of Chicago.</p> - -<p>As he walked restlessly from end to end of the -long room, his troubled eyes sought the ornate clock -which slowly ticked away the minutes on a mantel -of carved marble, and every now and then his slim, -well-manicured fingers strayed to his smooth, black -hair in an unconscious gesture of impatience.</p> - -<p>Presently he stopped at one end of the long mahogany -table, which was set around with heavy leather-cushioned -chairs, and occupied the centre of the room. -Seated in one of these chairs was a man of about -fifty-five. Short, stout, and comfortable of build, -round-faced and rosy-cheeked, with light-blue eyes in -which was a look of almost infantile innocence, one -would never have guessed him to be the Philander -Morgan who held a controlling interest in so many<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>160</span> -corporations on the Pacific Coast, and who was reputed -to be the wealthiest man in San Francisco.</p> - -<p>“I can’t understand why he doesn’t come,” complained -Meyer, in his quick, nervous manner. “The -train was due at nine-fifteen, and here it is nearly ten.”</p> - -<p>He took out a handkerchief and passed it over his -moist forehead.</p> - -<p>Philander Morgan eyed him quizzically, with a -slight pursing of his lips.</p> - -<p>“Ah, you young men!” he said placidly. “How -much vital energy you waste in worry! You prance -about, tear your hair, and get hot and unpleasantly -moist; and what do you gain by making yourself -uncomfortable? Nothing. Spreckles will come because -he said he would, and I have never known him -to break his word. There are such an infinite number -of reasons why he should be late that it is useless -to speculate. Take my advice and make yourself -comfortable until he appears.”</p> - -<p>He folded his plump hands and gazed meditatively -at the ceiling.</p> - -<p>“I know it’s absurd,” Meyer replied, with a harassed -smile; “but I can’t help it. Besides, I have so much -more at stake than you. In comparison to all the -other irons you have in the fire, your interest in the -diamond trade is insignificant. But should this monstrous, -incredible thing prove true, I shall be ruined—totally -ruined.”</p> - -<p>Philander Morgan withdrew his eyes from the ceiling -and puffed out his fat cheeks.</p> - -<p>“Tut! tut!” he protested. “Don’t speak of it. Surely -you have not allowed yourself to credit for an instant -this wild rumor. It’s absurd—impossible.”</p> - -<p>The Hebrew tapped nervously with his finger nail -on the polished surface of the table.</p> - -<p>“That’s what I told myself at first,” he said slowly.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>161</span> -“I snapped my fingers at them—I laughed. It was inconceivable, -beyond the bounds of reason. But later, -every evidence seemed to point——”</p> - -<p>A loud knock sounded at the door and he broke off -abruptly.</p> - -<p>“Come in!” he cried, springing to his feet.</p> - -<p>The door slowly opened and an old man appeared -on the threshold. He was very tall and very thin, -with narrow, drooping shoulders and a slow, almost -shambling step. His clothes were mussed and almost -threadbare; but, in spite of that, it needed no more -than a glance at the wrinkled face, the great mane of -snow white hair brushed straight back from a high, -broad forehead, the piercing eyes, bright as live coals, -gleaming through big spectacles with rims of tortoise -shell, to tell that he was somebody.</p> - -<p>Such a man was Herman Spreckles, of Chicago. -Rumor had it that, besides his many other interests, -he was the moving spirit of a gigantic secret combination -of jewelers which ruled the diamond market of -the United States with a rod of iron.</p> - -<p>Marcus Meyer hurried forward with both hands -outstretched.</p> - -<p>“My dear Mr. <a name="Spreckles" id="Spreckles"></a><ins title="Original has 'Spreckels'">Spreckles</ins>!” he cried joyfully. “I -am very glad to see you. We were beginning to fear -that you had missed your train.”</p> - -<p>The tall man sniffed scornfully as he took one of -the Hebrew’s hands.</p> - -<p>“Huh! Did you ever know me to miss a train, -Meyer?” he inquired.</p> - -<p>Then he looked out in the hall.</p> - -<p>“Come in, Pickering—come in!” he said sharply. -“Don’t dawdle out there.”</p> - -<p>He moved away from the door, and a slim, alert-looking -man of about forty appeared, at the sight of -whom Marcus Meyer’s eyes sparkled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>162</span> -“Ah—Pickering!” he exclaimed with satisfaction. -“I’m glad you’re here. We shall need the skill of the -best diamond expert in the country before we’re -through, or I’m very much mistaken.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Herman Spreckles had advanced to the -table, where Philander Morgan arose ponderously to -greet him.</p> - -<p>“Ha! You here, too?” inquired the older man, -peering through his spectacles. “This begins to look -serious.”</p> - -<p>He shook hands with the stout man and dropped -into a chair.</p> - -<p>“Well, Meyer, let us get to business at once,” he -said briskly. “I must take the early afternoon train -back. What’s this cock-and-bull yarn you’ve been -writing me about. Begin at the beginning and let -us get through with it. Sit down, man—sit down! -You make me nervous stamping up and down that -way.”</p> - -<p>The Hebrew dropped upon a chair and passed his -hand over his hair with a nervous gesture.</p> - -<p>“You both had my letters in cipher,” he began -quickly. “You know about the mysterious diamonds -which have been coming in to me for the past few -months with such amazing regularity.”</p> - -<p>Spreckles nodded.</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” he said impatiently. “You purchased -them on my instructions at the prevailing price, and I -wired you to ascertain where they came from. Have -you done so?”</p> - -<p>Marcus Meyer made a gesture with his hands.</p> - -<p>“I have, so far as has been in my power. There -was no difficulty in finding out who they came from. -Their original source remains as much a mystery as -it was in the beginning. Perhaps, in order that we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>163</span> -may have all the facts clearly, I had better tell the -whole story briefly.”</p> - -<p>He looked questioningly at the white-haired -Spreckles, who nodded silently.</p> - -<p>“On the third of March,” Meyer began, “a man came -to me and asked whether I wished to buy some diamonds. -I told him, of course, that I should have to -examine them first, whereupon he promptly pulled -out of his pocket an oblong package wrapped in white -tissue paper. Imagine my astonishment when I unrolled -it and found within, twenty perfect stones ranging -from one to five carats in weight. They were -flawless and of that exquisite blue-white color which, -as you both know, is so sought after and so rare. I -have sold no better stones than those for five hundred -dollars a carat.”</p> - -<p>“And the man?” Herman Spreckles asked quickly. -“Where did he say they came from?”</p> - -<p>“He would not say,” Meyer answered. “He would -tell me nothing. He said that if I did not care to buy -them he would go elsewhere. I finally paid him three -hundred and fifty dollars a carat—a great bargain. -As soon as he had gone, I sent for a detective and had -inquiries made. The fellow was one Johnson, a native -of Denver, who had been in a variety of enterprises, -none of which were very successful. For the past -year he had apparently done nothing at all, though -the report had it that he lived very well, in a comfortable -place on the outskirts of the city, where he kept an -expensive motor car, among other luxuries. His only -intimate was an eccentric fellow named Randolph, who -came here from the East some seven years ago, built -an extraordinary fortified dwelling in the mountains, -and has lived there a recluse ever since, supposedly -dabbling in chemical experiments of some sort.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>164</span> -“Ha!” exclaimed Spreckles. “You had this fellow -Randolph looked up?”</p> - -<p>“Not at once,” returned Meyer. “At the time it -seemed to me that he could have no connection with -the diamonds. It was much more probable that Johnson -had stolen or smuggled them; but as the weeks -passed no stones of that description were reported -missing, and inquiry at Washington revealed the fact -that there had been no suspicious purchasing abroad. -The day after I received that letter, Johnson appeared -with another packet, which, on opening, I found to be -in every way identical with the first. There were -twenty stones of the same blue-white color, and they -weighed, to a fraction of a carat, exactly what the first -had weighed.</p> - -<p>“I was dumfounded. It seemed incredible that -such stones as those could have been brought into the -country without my knowing it. I was positive they -had not been stolen. Johnson persisted in his absolute -silence regarding the source from which they came, -he was even loath to let them remain in my hands for -three days while my experts made an exhaustive examination -of them. It was then that I wrote to you. -I had already paid out nearly twenty-five thousand -dollars for the first lot, and dared not sink any more -money without your sanction.”</p> - -<p>“Quite so,” nodded Spreckles. “You sent on one -of the stones, and I wired you to purchase as many -of them as you could, and to find out their source.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” returned Marcus Meyer. “I paid the -man and at once set the detectives on the trail of Randolph, -for the thing was becoming too serious to -neglect any clue, however slight. The report they -turned in was singularly complete in some respects, -and disappointingly lacking in others. Scott Randolph -is a man of about thirty-two or three. He comes from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>165</span> -a good New <a name="England" id="England"></a><ins title="Original has 'Engalnd'">England</ins> family, and, while he was still -in college, his father died and left him about seventy-five -thousand dollars. He appears not to have any near -relatives and but few friends. He graduated from -Yale, and then spent three years at the Sheffield school -of science, where he paid particular attention to chemistry -and mechanics. After leaving New Haven he -came directly to Denver, bought a tract in the mountains -and built there a stone house which is absolutely -impregnable. The windows are guarded with iron bars -and steel shutters, the door is of steel like a safe, and, -so far as I could discover, no human being but this -Johnson has ever been inside. His provisions are -brought to the door and left there; apparently he does -his own cooking, for there are no servants around.”</p> - -<p>Herman Spreckles lifted a thin, wrinkled hand.</p> - -<p>“Wait,” he said quickly. “What about the men who -built the house?”</p> - -<p>“All brought from a distance,” Meyer answered. -“None of them could be located. I did, however, examine -a teamster who carted his belongings from the -freight office. This fellow saw a few rooms in the -lower part of the house and confirms the general impression -that the place is as difficult to get into as a -fort. Randolph’s belongings were all carefully crated, -but the teamster remembered that many of the crates -were extraordinarily heavy; several, he knew, contained -machinery.”</p> - -<p>“At regular intervals Randolph disappears. At first -it was supposed that he had left the house, since no -amount of knocking or pounding could rouse him. -After my detectives got on the trail, they kept a strict -watch of the place day and night to catch him when -he came forth or returned, in order to find out where -he went. They finally came to the conclusion that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>166</span> -did not leave the house. He did not issue from any -of the doors or windows. His motor car remained -unused in a small shed to one side of the larger building. -It was apparent, therefore, that he shut himself -up alone for some purpose.”</p> - -<p>He paused and looked from one to the other of the -two men before him. They were both intensely interested -in his recital. Philander Morgan’s fat face -had lost the look of baby innocence, and had taken -on a keen, alert expression, which quite transformed -the man. Spreckles’ shaggy head was bent slightly -forward and from beneath beetling brows his eyes -gleamed like coals as he surveyed the Hebrew.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said sharply—“well, what was that purpose?”</p> - -<p>Marcus Meyer hesitated, his slim hand straying again -to the smooth head.</p> - -<p>“I can think of but one solution,” he said slowly at -length. “Wild, absurd, incredible as it may sound, I -think the man has discovered the secret for which -so many scientists have toiled in vain. I believe—he -has found a way—of manufacturing diamonds!”</p> - -<p>The stillness which followed the Hebrew’s amazing -statement was so intense that the slow ticking of -the clock on the mantel beat on the tense nerves of the -waiting men like the strokes of a hammer. Suddenly -Philander Morgan snorted incredulously.</p> - -<p>“Ridiculous!” he cried in a shrill voice. “The -thing’s impossible!”</p> - -<p>Herman Spreckles made no reply, for several moments -his piercing eyes remained fixed on Meyer’s -pale face. Then he turned swiftly toward the man -he had brought with him.</p> - -<p>“Pickering!”</p> - -<p>The name came snapping from his thin, straight lips<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>167</span> -like the shot of a pistol, and the young man sprang up -from where he had been sitting at the far end of the -table and came forward.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Is such a thing possible—manufacturing diamonds, -I mean.”</p> - -<p>James Pickering hesitated an instant.</p> - -<p>“It has been done,” he said slowly. “Both Edouard -Fournier, of Paris, and Professor Hedwig, of Berlin -University, have produced pure diamonds; but the -process was so costly and the resulting stones so small, -that their methods were not commercially practicable.”</p> - -<p>Again silence fell. Spreckles was thinking, while -Philander Morgan sat aghast, with pendulous cheeks -and popping eyes. His expression of dismay would -have been ludicrous had the situation not been so -serious.</p> - -<p>Marcus Meyer passed a crumpled handkerchief over -his moist forehead; then he began again.</p> - -<p>“I can think of no other explanation,” he said in a -low, strained voice. “The man never leaves his house. -His only known accomplice never leaves Denver. Yet, -a few days after these regular periods of retirement, -twenty-five thousand dollars’ worth of exquisite diamonds -are brought to me with the precision of clockwork. -They are all of the same perfect quality and the -carat weight of each package is identical. I could -make out my check beforehand and it would be -correct.”</p> - -<p>“You have the stones?” Spreckles asked quickly.</p> - -<p>Meyer nodded.</p> - -<p>“All except those in the first lot, which I have sold.”</p> - -<p>“Get them.”</p> - -<p>The Hebrew arose from the table and went over to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>168</span> -a great safe in the corner. Opening this, he took out a -small drawer, which he carried back and placed before -the other two men. The contents of the drawer were -hidden by a folded square of black velvet, and when -this was removed and spread out on the polished -mahogany, five small, insignificant-looking packets of -white tissue paper were revealed.</p> - -<p>With fingers that trembled a little, Meyer took up -one of these packets, and, unfolding the paper, poured -the contents out on the velvet square.</p> - -<p>There was a glittering cascade of light as they -streamed down onto the velvet and lay against the -black surface, a blazing mass, catching the light from a -thousand facets, gleaming with a wonderful fire, until -even Herman Spreckles could not suppress an exclamation -of admiration, as he leaned forward and plucked -one between thumb and forefinger.</p> - -<p>“A diamond of the first water,” he said slowly, -examining it intently. “And you tell me that has been -made by the hand of man? I won’t believe it.”</p> - -<p>He turned to Pickering, who stood behind his chair.</p> - -<p>“Look it over, James,” he said, “and let us know -what you think of it.”</p> - -<p>The expert’s face was slightly pale and his eyes -very bright, but otherwise he betrayed no signs of -emotion as he took the stone from the old man’s -hand and carried it over to one of the windows. Here -he fixed a glass in one eye and began a thorough -inspection of the diamond.</p> - -<p>Philander Morgan clasped his chubby hands together -nervously.</p> - -<p>“But what are we going to do?” he asked plaintively. -“If this man can make diamonds, the bottom will fall -out of the market in no time. We’ll be ruined. Our -stock will be worthless. What are we going to do?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>169</span> -Herman Spreckles surveyed him with a cynical -gleam in his black eyes.</p> - -<p>“Don’t cry before you’re hurt, Morgan,” he said -sarcastically. “Even if you lose your diamond stock, -I hardly think you’ll be a candidate for the poor house. -Besides the stock has not depreciated yet, and it is -our business to see that it does not.”</p> - -<p>He glanced up from under his shaggy brows at -the expert, who was coming back from the window.</p> - -<p>“Well, Pickering, what’s the verdict?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a diamond, all right, Mr. Spreckles,” the man -said decidedly. “I’ll stake my reputation on that. It -has all the fire and color of the best products of -the Kimberly mines, and is absolutely flawless. It’s -worth easily five hundred dollars a carat. Whether it -is a natural or manufactured product I cannot tell. -Had I not heard the story Mr. Meyer has just -told, I would have sworn that this came from South -Africa. As it is, I frankly confess I am puzzled. -If this Randolph has discovered a process whereby -diamonds like this can be made, he has done something -which will cause a world-wide stir, and very -probably world-wide ruin to a vast industry.”</p> - -<p>Philander Morgan moaned a little and wiped his -fat face with a large handkerchief. Marcus Meyer -was biting his finger nails nervously. Only the grim -Chicago magnate remained apparently unmoved.</p> - -<p>“Select some from the other packets,” he said tersely, -“and examine them carefully. We must be sure of the -facts before we act.”</p> - -<p>The expert selected two stones at random from -each of the four unopened packages, and retired with -them to the window.</p> - -<p>Spreckles leaned back in his chair and put the tips -of his skinny fingers together.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>170</span> -“This Randolph,” he began slowly, “receives mail, -I suppose—parcels by express and by freight?”</p> - -<p>“Very little mail,” the Hebrew answered. “Most of -it is apparently from chemical supply houses and other -dealers. He seems to have no personal correspondence. -It is also rare that anything comes to him by express; -but he has a good many pieces of freight, which are -invariably delivered by Johnson. So far as I have -been able to discover, they also come from supply -houses and seem to contain chemicals of some sort.”</p> - -<p>“We must make sure,” Spreckles said significantly. -“From this moment Randolph must receive nothing -into that house which we do not know of. Above -all, his letters must be examined carefully.”</p> - -<p>Marcus Meyer’s face paled a little.</p> - -<p>“But the government——” he protested.</p> - -<p>“Tut, tut, my dear Meyer!” Spreckles said calmly. -“You are a sensible man, and a clever one. Don’t -let us have any foolish qualms when a matter of such -moment is at stake. There are plenty of ways in -which this can be done quietly and safely by a man -of your ability. I leave the details to you, who are on -the ground. But I repeat that neither Randolph nor -this man Johnson must receive anything which you -have not previously read or examined. Well, Pickering?”</p> - -<p>The diamond expert returned the stones to their -original packets and faced his employer.</p> - -<p>“They are identical with the first one,” he said -quietly. “Perfect, flawless, and of equal value. I -think there can be no question that their source is -the same.”</p> - -<p>“I expected as much,” Spreckles said quietly. -“Though I am not an expert like Pickering, my eyes -are still pretty fair, and I have examined a goodly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>171</span> -number of diamonds in my life. That will be all for -the present, James. Be good enough to wait for me -downstairs. I will be through directly and we can -take lunch and return on the early train.”</p> - -<p>As the door closed behind the diamond expert, Herman -Spreckles bent forward a little and fixed his eyes -keenly on Marcus <a name="Meyer" id="Meyer"></a><ins title="Original has 'Myer'">Meyer</ins>.</p> - -<p>“In addition to the precautions I have suggested,” -he said quietly, “it is absolutely necessary for us to -obtain an entrance to this house of Randolph’s and -make a thorough examination. That is the most important -step of all. It would be more satisfactory -if you yourself could be present, but I doubt whether -that is possible. However, pick your detectives intelligently, -tell them exactly what you want to know, -and the result should be adequate.”</p> - -<p>The Hebrew’s face turned pale and he twisted his -fingers nervously together.</p> - -<p>“But think of the risk,” he objected. “That’s a -criminal proceeding. It’s breaking and entering.”</p> - -<p>The older man waved away his objection impatiently.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be a child, Meyer,” he snapped. “Everything, -in this world is a risk. Do you realize that your -very existence is at stake? If we don’t get at the -bottom of this business and stop it, you will be ruined, -and Morgan and I will be severely crippled. Let us -have no more of this foolish squeamishness. Do as I -tell you, and do it at once.”</p> - -<p>As he arose, his gaunt height towered above his -companions.</p> - -<p>“One more thing,” he went on. “Don’t let the man -suspect. Buy all the diamonds which are offered, and -above all keep silent about them. Should a whisper -of this get abroad, a tremendous slump in our stocks -will follow. Keep me advised daily as to your progress.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>172</span> -I am taking the two-fifteen train back. Don’t -hesitate to draw on me for money if you need it. -Good-by.”</p> - -<p>He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind -him, leaving Philander Morgan and Marcus staring -at one another with expressions of the deepest anxiety -and concern.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>173</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xv">CHAPTER XV.<br /> -<span>THE MYSTERIOUS MR. RANDOLPH.</span></h2> - - -<p>Rather less than twenty-four hours later Dick Merriwell -entered the lobby of the Brown Palace Hotel -and walked directly to the desk.</p> - -<p>“Anything for me on that last mail, Fred?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>The clerk turned to the rack behind him.</p> - -<p>“I believe there is, Mr. Merriwell,” he answered. -“Yes, here it is. Only one, though.”</p> - -<p>“That’s all I was expecting,” he returned.</p> - -<p>He walked slowly from the desk, tearing open the -envelope as he went. Close by the door he stopped -to glance through the several sheets it contained.</p> - -<p>“He’s well and flourishing, that’s one good thing,” -he murmured. “It’s so long since the last letter that -I was beginning—— By Jove, what a peculiar coincidence!”</p> - -<p>Without pausing to read further, he folded the letter -hastily and hurried out of the door and down the -steps. Waiting at the curb stood the <i>Wizard</i> in the -front seat of which was Brad Buckhart. Letter in -hand, Merriwell sprang up beside him.</p> - -<p>“Say, Brad,” he began eagerly, “talking about coincidences, -I’ve got one here that beats the Dutch. Do -you remember that interesting scrap of conversation we -couldn’t help hearing last night in the dining room?”</p> - -<p>“I sure do,” the Texan returned promptly. “The -one between the dressy little Jew and the pudgy gent -with the china-blue eyes, you mean?”</p> - -<p>Dick nodded emphatically.</p> - -<p>“That’s it,” he returned quickly. “They were talking<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>174</span> -about somebody by the name of Randolph—Scott -Randolph, who evidently had something to do with -diamonds.”</p> - -<p>“If I got their lingo straight, he had quite some to -do with them,” Buckhart put in. “Unless I’m a whole -lot wrong, those same two gents were saying that this -Randolph manufactured ’em.”</p> - -<p>“It did sound that way,” Merriwell returned; “but -of course, that’s impossible. We must have misunderstood -them. At any rate, they were very secretive -about it, for the minute the little fellow noticed us, -he nudged the big man and they shut up like clams.”</p> - -<p>He paused and unfolded the letter he had just received -from his brother.</p> - -<p>“Here’s a letter which just came from Frank,” he -went on. “He’s well and very busy and all that. Glad -we’re having a nice trip and a lot more that won’t interest -you. Then comes the coincidence. I just want -you to listen to this:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>“‘This will reach you while you are in Denver,’” -Dick read. “‘I wish, if you have time, you would look -up an old friend of mine who is located somewhere -near there. He’s a rather retiring chap and doesn’t care -at all for company; but we got to be pretty good friends -at Yale, and afterward kept up a more or less regular -correspondence for some time. I haven’t heard from -him in over two years, and several letters of mine -have been unanswered. I’d like to know whether he is -still in the land of the living; and, if so, what he is -doing and why he doesn’t write occasionally. He was -a great fellow for experimenting with chemicals and -had the most extraordinary inventive ability and talent -for mechanics that I have ever seen. I fancy he is -doing a lot of experimenting, though he never told<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>175</span> -me just what he was after. His name is Scott Randolph. -If you find him, tell him I should very much -like to hear from him again.’”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Dick folded the letter and restored it to the envelope. -As he did so, a card dropped out of the latter -and he stooped over to pick it up.</p> - -<p>“Scott Randolph!” the big Texan exclaimed. “Now -what do you think of that? This is a sure enough interesting -gent. Mebbe he’s got the receipt of making -diamonds out of these chemicals he experiments -with.”</p> - -<p>Dick secured the card from the bottom of the car -and tucked it into his pocket.</p> - -<p>“Just one of Frank’s cards introducing me to his -friend,” he said. “I think I shall do my best to present -it. From the way Frank writes about him, Randolph -must be a good sort of a chap, and I’d like to meet -him for other reasons.”</p> - -<p>Buckhart laughed.</p> - -<p>“A chap that can make diamonds must be a very -good sort,” he observed. “I’d sure like to put my -blinkers on him. Mebbe he’d present us with a bushel -or two. You hear me softly warble!”</p> - -<p>“That’s all nonsense, of course,” Dick smiled. “We -must have misunderstood those men last night. You -know we only heard a few words. But, all the same, -I’d like to meet this Randolph. Now we’ve seen -Tucker and Bigelow off for Colorado Springs, we -haven’t a thing on hand for the rest of the day, and -we might as well start on a still hunt for this friend -of Frank’s. I’ll run in and see if Fred knows anything -about where he can be found.”</p> - -<p>He stepped out of the car and reëntered the hotel -lobby, walking up to the desk. The clerk was not -busy and turned to him at once.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>176</span> -“Say, Fred,” Merriwell began, “I’m looking for a -man by the name of Scott Randolph, who is supposed -to live in or around Denver. Ever heard of him? -That’s a pretty big order, I know, but you seem to be -wise to the life history of about every one in town.”</p> - -<p>The hotel clerk laughed.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got me this time,” he said. “Scott Randolph? -I don’t think I ever heard of him. What -does he do? In business here at all?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think so,” Dick answered. “I believe he -spends most of his time experimenting with chemicals, -or something like that.”</p> - -<p>There was a puzzled look on the clerk’s face as he -looked meditatively across the lobby. All at once his -eyes brightened.</p> - -<p>“Say, there’s old Captain Winters sitting over there,” -he said. “He’s the boy that can tell you what you want -if anybody can. He’s a regular old man gossip, and -there isn’t much that gets away from him, I can tell -you. If he ever wrote a book and put in it all he -knows about people in this town, you bet your life -there’d be things doing. Come over and I’ll introduce -you.”</p> - -<p>He slipped from behind the desk and walked across -the lobby, with Dick at his side, approaching a little, -weazened-up old man who was reading a paper in an -armchair close by one of the big windows.</p> - -<p>“Captain Winters,” he said, “I’d like you to meet -Mr. Merriwell, who is looking for some information -about a party in town. I told him you’d be able to -give it to him if anybody could.”</p> - -<p>The old man peered at Dick over the tops of his -spectacles, extending a palsied hand.</p> - -<p>“Pleased to meet you, young man,” he piped in a -shrill voice. “Pleased to meet you. Fred’s a great -boy to talk. Mebbe I know a thing or two about<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>177</span> -folks, but I ain’t telling it all. He, he! I wouldn’t -dast. What was it you was wanting to find out?”</p> - -<p>“I’m looking for a man named Scott Randolph, -Captain Winters,” Dick smiled. “I think he lives -somewhere on the outskirts of town.”</p> - -<p>“Scott Randolph!” the old man said sharply. “Why, -I’m surprised at ye, Fred. You’d oughter know who -that is. He’s the one that come here seven or eight -years ago an’ built that crazy house like a fort in -the mountains off Bonnet Trail a piece.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, is that the man?” the clerk exclaimed. “I -didn’t know his name was Randolph. Well, I guess -you can tell Mr. Merriwell how to get out there. I -must go back to the desk.”</p> - -<p>He left them and Dick dropped into a chair beside -the captain.</p> - -<p>“Folks call it ‘The Folly,’” resumed the old man with -the peculiar zest and relish of a born gossip. “It’s -built like a fort, with bars to the winders and a door -like a safe. Nobody knows what he does there, but -they do say he invents things. Folks going by has -heard enjines going fit to kill, an’ onct Jake Pettigrew, -that keeps the store in Duncan, seen a great flame o’ -fire shoot out o’ the roof. Whatever he’s doing, he -ain’t up to no good, you can depend. It’s agin’ nater -an’ the Bible to fool with the powers o’ darkness.”</p> - -<p>“Did you ever see him, Captain Winters?” Dick -asked curiously.</p> - -<p>“Not more’n a couple o’ times, my boy. He don’t -come around often. Sometimes folks don’t set eyes -on him for weeks at a time; then again, he’ll come -down to town in his autermobile. He’s a smallish, bald -man, not much to look at. Some say he’s cracked, but -I ain’t comitten’ myself.”</p> - -<p>The captain pursed up his lips and shook his head -slowly with the air of one who could tell a good deal<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>178</span> -more if he only would. In reality, he had already exhausted -his small store of wisdom regarding Scott -Randolph, who remained a perplexing mystery that -the old gossip had never been able to solve.</p> - -<p>“Can you tell me how I can find this place?” Dick -asked.</p> - -<p>“I kin,” answered the captain, “but it ain’t likely to -do you much good, cause he never lets anybody inside -the door. Howsomever, you kin try, if you have a -mind to. You know where Bonnet Trail is, I s’pose?”</p> - -<p>“Runs out to the mountains a little south of Georgetown, -doesn’t it?” Dick asked.</p> - -<p>“Yep. About twenty miles out is Duncan. It -ain’t much of a place; jest a few houses an’ Jake -Pettigrew’s store. Randolph’s place is some four -miles from there, as I recollect. You’d better ask Jake, -though, an’ he’ll tell you right.”</p> - -<p>Dick arose from the chair.</p> - -<p>“Thank you very much, Captain Winters,” he said, -holding out his hand. “I’m very glad to have met -you, and shall see you again while I’m here.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t mention it,” returned the old man. “Let me -know if you get inter Randolph’s. I’m kinder curious.”</p> - -<p>“I will,” Dick laughed, turning toward the door.</p> - -<p>Buckhart yawned openly as his friend appeared beside -the car.</p> - -<p>“Say, pard,” he drawled, “why didn’t you stay a -couple of minutes longer and clean up the hour. I -reckoned you were plumb lost and was just thinking -of organizing a searching party of one to locate you.”</p> - -<p>Cranking the engine, Dick squeezed past the Texan -and took his seat at the wheel.</p> - -<p>“I couldn’t break away from the old party who was -telling me about our friend Randolph,” he explained.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>179</span> -“He seems to be something of a mystery to the people -around here. In fact, it is quite doubtful whether we -shall be let into his place, once we’ve found it.”</p> - -<p>“Say you so?” Brad inquired interestedly. “Let’s -hear about it.”</p> - -<p>Threading his way through the streets, Merriwell -narrated for Buckhart’s benefit the curious story, or -rather fragment of a story, he had just heard from -Captain Winters; and by the time they reached the -outskirts of the city and wheeled into Bonnet Trail, -the Westerner had all the particulars and was as much -interested as his chum.</p> - -<p>“Looks like there was something queer about this -gent, pard,” he remarked. “My curiosity has sure -riz up on its hind legs.”</p> - -<p>The road was extremely bad, being full of ruts and -bumps and apparently not much traveled, so that it -took them a good two hours to reach Duncan, where -Dick drew up in front of the one store the small place -boasted. A tall, lank individual in shirt sleeves and -cowhide boots lounged in the doorway, chewing a -straw.</p> - -<p>“Are you Mr. Pettigrew?” Dick asked, stopping the -engine.</p> - -<p>“I are,” was the laconic reply.</p> - -<p>“Can you tell me how I can get to Mr. Randolph’s -place?”</p> - -<p>Jake Pettigrew nearly swallowed the straw in his -surprise, and was some time recovering it. When he -had done so, his face was rather flushed and in his -eyes there was a look of unmistakable interest.</p> - -<p>“Randolph’s place?” he exclaimed. “The Folly, -you mean?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what they call it, I believe,” Merriwell answered.</p> - -<p>“Take the footpath just beyond Injun Head Rock,”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>180</span> -the lanky man directed, resuming with an evident -effort his air of indifference. “It’s about four miles -along the trail. You can’t miss it, ’cause the rock -looks like the head of an Injun. ’Tain’t of’en Randolph -has callers.”</p> - -<p>“So I understand,” Dick said. “Is he at home, -do you know?”</p> - -<p>“So help me, no,” the man answered hastily. “He -may be, or he mayn’t. I don’t know nothin’ about -him.”</p> - -<p>The Yale man thanked him, and with the engine -started, the car continued up the hilly trail on second -speed. They passed the rocky peak which, strange to -say, really did bear some resemblance to an Indian’s -head, and a few hundred yards beyond came to a clearly -defined track leading from Bonnet Trail up into the -foothills.</p> - -<p>Dick turned the car in to one side of the road well -out of the way. Pocketing the coil plug, he followed -Buckhart out of the machine, and they started up -the narrow, rocky track on foot.</p> - -<p>It wound straight up into the mountains, hugging -the steep wall on one side, while on the other the -ground fell away abruptly into a multitude of gorges -and ravines. Sometimes the descent was precipitous -and the track seemed almost to be hung in mid-air over -an abyss, while at other places the slope was more -gradual and covered with great boulders, mingled -with a heavy growth of pine and bushes.</p> - -<p>At length they rounded a sharp turn and came out -on a fairly level plateau, perhaps a hundred yards in -diameter, completely hemmed in on three sides by high -cliffs, while on the fourth it fell away abruptly into a -deep ravine.</p> - -<p>Facing them, and built against the highest cliff,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>181</span> -was a stone house, which they at once made certain was -the one they sought.</p> - -<p>It was large and square, and composed entirely of -the same dark, somber rock of which the surrounding -mountains were made. Hugging, as it did, the cliff, it -was somewhat hard to distinguish just where the -natural rock ended and the house began. This difficulty -was increased by the fact that the dwelling was -in reality built into a sort of depression in the side of -the cliff, the jagged top of which overhung the roof.</p> - -<p>In the middle of the front side was a large door -that seemed to be closed by a single sheet of iron or -steel, while the windows, even on the upper floors, -were protected by stout iron bars and some sort of -inside shutters.</p> - -<p>Taken all in all, it was a most dreary, desolate, -prison-like structure, to which the surrounding barriers -of jagged, gray cliffs, hard, bare, with no relieving -touch of green, added an almost sinister grimness.</p> - -<p>“By George, pard, what a place to live in!” Buckhart -said in a low tone. “I’d as soon bunk up in a -prison.”</p> - -<p>The depressing influence of the surroundings was so -great that, unconsciously, the Texan had lowered his -voice almost to a whisper.</p> - -<p>His companion did not answer. His head was bent -slightly forward and there was look of keen intentness -in his eyes. The next moment he spoke.</p> - -<p>“Listen!” he said softly. “What’s that noise?”</p> - -<p>In the silence which followed, a faint, regular, scraping -sound came from their right. It was so slight that -for a minute or two neither of them could place it. -At length they decided that it came from around the -corner of the building, a spot which they could not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>182</span> -see from their present position at the entrance of the -plateau.</p> - -<p>Scrape, scrape, scrape. Scratch, scratch, scratch. It -sounded, with the regularity of clockwork.</p> - -<p>Buckhart eyed his chum with a puzzled expression -on his face.</p> - -<p>“What the deuce is it?” he whispered.</p> - -<p>“I’m not sure,” Dick returned, “but it sounds like -filing—as though somebody was filing an iron bar. -I’m going to find out.”</p> - -<p>He dropped down on his hands and knees and commenced -to creep slowly through the scattered boulders -to the right. Brad promptly followed him, and in -less than five minutes they were ensconced behind a -great rock, from which a very good view of that side -of the house could be obtained.</p> - -<p>There was a momentary pause, and then they both -peered cautiously around the corner of the boulder.</p> - -<p>The next moment the Texan caught his breath with -a sudden, swift intake, his eyes widened with astonishment. -Dick, crouching beside him, pressed his -chum’s arm warningly, without for an instant averting -his own gaze from the surprising sight before -them.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>183</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xvi">CHAPTER XVI.<br /> -<span>THE MYSTERIOUS HOUSE.</span></h2> - - -<p>On the ground floor of this side of the house were -two windows, barred and shuttered like the rest, and, -crouching in a group about the one nearest the cliff, -were four men.</p> - -<p>They were roughly dressed in dark clothes and slouch -hats, and their faces were completely covered with -black masks. One of them was on his knees cutting -methodically at the bottom of an iron bar, while a -companion stood by his side, a bottle of oil in his -hand, from which he occasionally poured a few drops -on the saw. The other two men stood a little to one -side, taking no part in the work, but watching its -progress with every sign of intense interest.</p> - -<p>When they had fully taken in what was going -on, the two chums drew back into the shelter of the -boulder and Dick eyed his companion significantly.</p> - -<p>“Looks as though some one was even more interested -in Randolph than we are,” he murmured.</p> - -<p>“That’s what,” Buckhart returned softly. “Did you -ever see anything like their nerve, breaking into a -man’s house in broad daylight?”</p> - -<p>At that moment the filing ceased and the watchers -looked out just in time to see two of the masked -men take the bar in their hands and slowly bend it -upward. That done, the fellow promptly commenced -work on the next bar.</p> - -<p>He had scarcely done so when the sound of some -one carelessly whistling a tune, came faintly from a -distance.</p> - -<p>The effect was magical. The man at the bar sprang<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>184</span> -to his feet with an oath and dropped his file. The -other three looked around in a startled manner, and -there was a brief, hurried consultation between all -four.</p> - -<p>The whistle grew louder and more distinct. To -Dick it seemed that the sound came from the ravine to -the left of the house, but he was too much interested -in the proceedings of the masked men, to pay particular -attention to it.</p> - -<p>After a swift interchange of words, the group split -up and, hugging the wall of the house, stole noiselessly -in single file toward the front corner.</p> - -<p>The situation was growing more and more interesting. -By squirming forward a little, Merriwell managed -to reach a spot where he had a good view of both -the front and side of the house. The next moment, -to his amazement, he saw the head and shoulders of -a man appear at the edge of the ravine and step up -on the plateau.</p> - -<p>Short and slim, he was dressed in a suit of khaki -with leggings, as though he had been riding or taking -a long walk. As he sauntered toward the door with a -springy step, his cheery whistle sounded out of place -in the gloomy desolation of the silent spot.</p> - -<p>Dick caught his breath and his heart beat a trifle -unevenly. The foremost of the masked men had almost -reached the corner of the house when the whistling -stopped and the slim unknown slipped his hand -into his pocket and pulled out what was apparently -a key.</p> - -<p>Something was going to happen, and that very soon. -Merriwell felt it instinctively and waited, muscles taut -and nerves quivering, for the first move to be made. -The Texan crouched behind him, also ready for business. -Though he could not see the man at the door, -Dick’s eyes were riveted on the four masked ruffians,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>185</span> -who betrayed by their actions that they were up to no -good.</p> - -<p>The slim man fitted the key into a lock; and then, -with the resulting click, there was a rush of feet from -the corner of the house as the masked men came at -him in a bunch.</p> - -<p>Though taken by surprise, the fellow at the door -was quick as a cat. Whirling around, his back to the -opening, he met the first comer with a straight blow -from the shoulder which sent him reeling back against -one of his companions. But the odds were too great, -and almost instantly the man in khaki was borne to -the ground by the sheer weight of his opponents, though -he still continued to struggle desperately.</p> - -<p>It was then that the two Yale men took a hand in -the game. A swift rush carried them across the -plateau, where they landed on the masked men with -the demoralizing suddenness of a thunderbolt.</p> - -<p>In grim silence each one seized a collar and jerked -a man to his feet, at the same time administering a -swift jab on the jaw which sent the fellows sprawling -a dozen feet away. This performance was repeated -with the other two, and, as the ruffians landed on the -ground with a thud, the unknown sprang up with the -elasticity of a rubber ball.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, gentlemen,” he said in a quick, incisive -voice.</p> - -<p>One hand slid to his hip pocket and he drew a serviceable-looking -revolver, which he leveled at the -masked men, who apparently about to resume their -attack.</p> - -<p>“Get!” he ripped out tersely, his eyes gleaming. -“Beat it! <a name="Vamoose" id="Vamoose"></a><ins title="Original has 'Vamose'">Vamoose</ins>! If you’re not out of sight in -three minutes I’ll drill you full of holes.”</p> - -<p>The tallest of the four—the one who had done the -filing—seemed inclined to disregard the warning, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>186</span> -one of his companions plucked him by the arm and -whispered a few words into his ear.</p> - -<p>“Skip!” repeated the slim man. “I mean what I -say. The next time I catch you around here I’ll shoot -first and you can explain afterward—if you’re able.”</p> - -<p>Without further delay, the men turned and hurried -toward the trail. The unknown watched them until -they were out of sight, and then he wheeled quickly -around.</p> - -<p>“I seem to have an unexpected influx of callers to-day,” -he remarked. “Might I ask your business?”</p> - -<p>His tone was cool and self-possessed, but he shoved -the revolver back into his pocket as he spoke.</p> - -<p>“You are Mr. Randolph,” Dick inquired—“Mr. -Scott Randolph?”</p> - -<p>The stranger nodded and his eyes narrowed.</p> - -<p>“I am,” he said tersely. “And you?”</p> - -<p>The Yale man took a card from his pocket and -handed it to the other.</p> - -<p>“My name is Merriwell,” he said, quietly. “My -brother asked me to give you this.”</p> - -<p>As his eyes fell on Frank Merriwell’s card with the -brief written words, “Introducing my brother Dick,” -the cold, questioning, almost skeptical expression, instantly -left Scott Randolph’s face, and his keen, gray -eyes softened with a look of friendliness, mingled with -regret.</p> - -<p>“I’m awfully glad to meet Frank’s brother,” he said -warmly, as he extended his hand. “The more so since -you came just in time to help me out of a tight place. -I hope you don’t think I’m ungrateful because I didn’t -enthuse at first. The truth is, I’ve got so I look at -every one with more or less suspicion, and, even though -you did knock those ruffians around some, I couldn’t -understand what you were doing here.”</p> - -<p>Dick shook his hand heartily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>187</span> -“Don’t mention it,” he smiled. “I think I understand -a little of what you mean. It was rather startling -to have four masked men pile onto you and then be -assisted by two others who were total strangers. This -is my friend Brad Buckhart, Mr. Randolph.”</p> - -<p>Randolph gripped the Texan’s hand warmly and then -looked at Dick again.</p> - -<p>“How is Frank?” he asked quickly. “Though I -don’t deserve to know, after the beastly way I’ve -neglected him lately. He was my friend at Yale—almost -the only fellow I could really call a friend; but -so much has happened in the past few years——”</p> - -<p>He broke off abruptly and his face sobered.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps some day you’ll understand,” he finished -slowly. “Tell me about Frank.”</p> - -<p>“He’s well and happy, and absorbed in his work,” -Dick returned. “He wanted me to look you up and -see what you were doing and why you hadn’t written.”</p> - -<p>Scott Randolph suddenly pulled out his watch and -looked at it with a worried expression.</p> - -<p>“By Jove, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, his face clouding. -“I’d forgotten. I can’t stay here another minute—can’t -even ask you in. I have a most important—engagement. -It’s frightfully inhospitable, but I can’t -very well explain. Say, won’t you both come back -and take dinner with me at six o’clock? You can -spend the evening, and we’ll have a good talk. I can’t -tell you how beastly sorry I am.”</p> - -<p>Though Dick was rather surprised, nothing of it -appeared in his manner.</p> - -<p>“Why, I think we can,” he said slowly. “We’ve -nothing on for to-night and we might come.”</p> - -<p>“That’s splendid!” Randolph exclaimed, in a tone -of relief. “Come at six, and I’ll be ready for you.”</p> - -<p>He had already picked up the key from where it had -dropped to the ground and was fitting it into the lock<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>188</span> -with feverish haste. The two Yale men started away, -when Dick suddenly remembered something.</p> - -<p>“Those fellows were filing a bar in one of your -windows,” he called back.</p> - -<p>Randolph did not turn his head.</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” he said hurriedly. “I’ll look after it -presently.”</p> - -<p>The next instant he had disappeared inside the house, -and the steel door closed with a clang which resounded -through the rocky gorge. As the two friends hesitated -at the entrance to the plateau, they heard the click of -the key and the sound of a bolt being shot home. -Then silence fell.</p> - -<p>Neither of the two chums spoke a word until they -were well along the narrow track and the stone house -was out of sight. Then Buckhart stopped suddenly.</p> - -<p>“Well, of all the wild, woolly, mysterious goings -on,” he burst out, “this has sure got any I ever bumped -up against skinned a mile. Say, pard, tell me honest -what you think of a gent who is piled on by four bad -men with masks, and as soon as we politely rescue -him, he looks at us like we were bunco steerers, and -asks our business. Furthermore, when he’s found out -we’re fairly respectable he gives us the glad hand, and -the next minute tells us to run away and play, and -come back to dinner. I tell you there’s something a -whole lot queer about this here Randolph. You hear -me talk!”</p> - -<p>“He certainly seems to be a trifle odd in his behavior,” -Dick returned. “But, all the same, I rather -like his looks. Wait until after to-night before we pass -final judgment on him. He may have a pretty good -reason for everything he’s done. Come on, Brad, don’t -waste time here. It evidently hasn’t occurred to you -that the gentlemen with masks may have taken a fancy -to the <i>Wizard</i> and made a quick getaway in her.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>189</span> -“Great Scott, no!” the Texan gasped. “I never -thought of that.”</p> - -<p>Almost at a run, they covered the rest of the narrow -path, and both gave an exclamation of relief as -they reached Bonnet Trail and found the car safe and -sound where they had left it.</p> - -<p>“Gee, what a relief!” Dick said, as he gave the -crank a flip and stepped into his seat. “I hadn’t the -slightest desire to hoof it back to Denver; and in these -parts a stolen car is a mighty hard thing to get track -of.”</p> - -<p>Turning the <i>Wizard</i> deftly, he started her back toward -the city. An animated discussion at once arose -concerning the mysterious Scott Randolph, his personality, -his peculiar dwelling, and above all, his probable -occupation, which continued until the hotel was -reached; without, it must be confessed, arriving at any -very satisfactory solution on any of the points.</p> - -<p>Promptly at a quarter before six that night the -<i>Wizard</i> again passed Jake Pettigrew’s store, causing -that worthy to gasp in surprise and instantly to be -assailed with the awful pangs of ungratified curiosity.</p> - -<p>The car did not stop. Disappearing up the hill in a -cloud of dust, it was guided to the spot where it had -rested earlier in the day, and the two fellows stepped -out and walked briskly up the narrow path.</p> - -<p>As they reached the plateau both men hesitated instinctively, -their eyes traveling curiously over the front -of the strange building. The sun was low in the west, -and the frowning, battlemented cliffs cast weird, purpling -shadows over the desolate spot. Out of these -shadows rose the grim, gray, silent walls of the house. -No cheerful ray of light penetrated through the steel -shutters of the barred windows to welcome the expected -guests. They were like the eye sockets in a -skull—gaunt, dark, expressionless. A thousand things<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>190</span> -might happen behind those walls of which they would -never give a hint.</p> - -<p>With a shrug of his shoulders, the Texan likened -the place to a tomb, and they walked forward and beat -a resounding blow upon the door.</p> - -<p>It was opened almost instantly, and Scott Randolph -stood smiling on the threshold, his slim figure silhouetted -against the blaze of light which streamed from -the hall behind him.</p> - -<p>“You’re on time to the minute,” he said briskly. -“Come in and make yourselves at home.”</p> - -<p>Blinking in the glare of light, which was as grateful -as it was unexpected, Dick and Brad stepped into -the hall. Randolph swiftly clanged the door to behind -them and shot the bolt.</p> - -<p>“Where did you leave your car?” he asked, turning -to them. “I assume that you came in one.”</p> - -<p>“Out on the trail,” Dick answered. “I reckon it’s -safe, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>The older man laughed.</p> - -<p>“Sure thing,” he said. “There’s hardly any one -uses the trail after dark. I have a little car which -I keep in a shed a couple of miles this side of Duncan, -but it’s no pleasure to use it on Bonnet Trail, so I -don’t often take the trip in to Denver. Well, what do -you think of my castle? Want to look around before -dinner?”</p> - -<p>The Yale men gave an instant eager assent. The -glimpse they had already had of the broad, comfortably -furnished hall, with its rugs <a name="and" id="and"></a><ins title="Original has 'and and'">and</ins> pictures and -easy-chairs scattered about, all brilliantly lighted by -the clusters of electric globes suspended from the ceiling, -had amazed them and stimulated their curiosity. -Somehow, it was so totally different from what they -had expected, that Dick could not help commenting -on it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>191</span> -Scott Randolph laughed heartily.</p> - -<p>“Did you expect to see bare prison walls and a stone -floor?” he asked, when he had recovered his breath. -“I don’t know that I blame you, though. The outside -of the place does look pretty fierce, but I had -special reasons for wanting it that way, and I tried to -make up for it as well as possible inside.”</p> - -<p>He opened a door to the left of the hall and stood -aside for them to enter.</p> - -<p>“This is my library and general lounging room,” -he explained. “It takes up this whole side of the -house.”</p> - -<p>The room, a good fifty feet long and half as wide, -was lined with bookshelves crowded to overflowing. -A great stone fireplace occupied the centre of the outside -wall, a piano stood in one corner, and all about -were scattered comfortable chairs and couches, together -with several tables on which were shaded electric -lamps. The floor was covered with rugs and skins of -various sorts.</p> - -<p>“What a dandy room!” Dick exclaimed enthusiastically. -“I don’t know when I’ve seen one more homelike -or attractive.”</p> - -<p>“It’s where I rest from my labors and enjoy myself,” -Randolph said lightly. “We’ll settle down here -after dinner and have a good talk.”</p> - -<p>He led the way to the hall again and started upstairs. -Then he seemed to change his mind.</p> - -<p>“Let’s have dinner first and do that afterward,” he -said. “Aren’t you fellows hungry?”</p> - -<p>Confessing that they might be induced to partake -of food, they followed him through the door opposite -the one leading into the library. Though not quite -two-thirds the size of the big room, the dining room -was still spacious. The furniture was of dark oak, -simple but substantially made, the table being spread<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>192</span> -with a spotless linen cloth and lighted with shaded -candles in silver candlesticks. There were places laid -for three; a large, oblong chafing dish stood at one end, -while in the middle of the table were several covered -dishes.</p> - -<p>Randolph motioned them to their places, taking his -seat in front of the chafing dish.</p> - -<p>“You fellows will have to be charitable to-night,” -he remarked, as he took off the cover and laid it aside. -“My work is of such a nature that it is impossible -for me to have servants of any kind about, and, as a -result, I have grown accustomed to looking after things -myself.”</p> - -<p>Dick looked at him in surprise.</p> - -<p>“Do you mean to say that you never have any one -here to cook or clean up?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Scott Randolph hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Well, not exactly that,” he said slowly. “I have -a fri—a man who comes in and helps me occasionally; -but as a rule I look after myself. It isn’t hard when -you’ve grown used to it, and the chafing dish is a -great help. Of course, when I’m alone, as I generally -am, I don’t do things elaborately.”</p> - -<p>His apology for the meal was quite unnecessary, for -it was delicious and cooked to perfection. The two -fellows enjoyed every mouthful of it, marveling how -a man could live so well in a place that was so out of -the way as to be almost in a wilderness.</p> - -<p>Scott Randolph was an ideal host. Bright, witty, -and entertaining in his conversation, he had, when he -chose to exert himself, an extraordinary charm of -manner. By the time they arose from the table and -returned to the library, both Merriwell and Buckhart -had made up their minds that he was a very good -sort indeed, and were not surprised that he had been -a friend of Frank.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>193</span> -They settled down comfortably on a couch, and for -nearly an hour Dick regaled his host with everything -he could think of that would interest him regarding -Frank’s doings, even giving him the latter’s letter to -read.</p> - -<p>“I shall write to him to-morrow,” Randolph said -contritely, when the Yale man had finished. “I’m -afraid, living in seclusion as I do, with scarcely any -relaxation from an absorbing and interesting work, -I’ve grown selfish. I don’t want Frank to think I’ve -forgotten him, for I haven’t. One makes few enough -real friends in this world, and a fellow is lucky to -have one like your brother.”</p> - -<p>Dick hesitated for an instant.</p> - -<p>“Would it be impertinent if I asked what your work -is?” he asked slowly. “Frank was very much interested -in it.”</p> - -<p>Randolph cast a swift glance at Buckhart, who was -examining the bookshelves at the other end of the -room.</p> - -<p>“Shall you see Frank soon?” he asked, lowering his -voice.</p> - -<p>“Probably within a few weeks,” Dick returned. “I’ll -drop in on him on my way back to New Haven.”</p> - -<p>“Then I will tell you, but you must not write it to -him. You must tell it to him only by word of mouth, -and then when he is alone. I shall have to ask for -your word of honor that you will say nothing to any -other living soul of what I am about to confide in -you. Will you pledge me this?”</p> - -<p>The Yale man did not reply at once. What could -be the nature of a work which required such secrecy -as this?</p> - -<p>“I assure you it is necessary,” Randolph went on in -the same low tone. “If the slightest hint of my discovery<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>194</span> -should leak out, it would precipitate the greatest -panic this country—nay, the world—has ever seen.”</p> - -<p>Dick gave a slight start. A sudden thought had -flashed into his brain. Could it be possible that—— He -recovered himself quickly.</p> - -<p>“I give you my word, of course,” he said gravely. -“I shall say nothing to any one but Frank of what -you have to tell me.”</p> - -<p>Randolph breathed a sigh of relief as he bent closer -to the Yale man. His voice was so low that the -latter had to strain his ears to hear.</p> - -<p>“Listen,” he murmured. “I have discovered the -process of making diamonds. Not tiny pinheads such -as Fournier of Paris has produced, but stones of any -size I wish, which the greatest experts in the country -cannot distinguish from the natural gems. By the -merest chance in my experimenting, I have stumbled -upon the secret for which men have sought since the -world began; and wealth beyond the dreams of avarice -is in my grasp.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>195</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xvii">CHAPTER XVII.<br /> -<span>IN THE SHADOW OF THE CLIFFS.</span></h2> - - -<p>For a moment Merriwell sat dazed and bewildered. -It was true, then! Those few muttered words, overheard -by chance the night before in the dining room of -the Brown Palace, were true, and not wild figments -of the imagination as he had supposed them. Somehow -it did not occur to him for an instant to doubt -Scott Randolph. Perhaps, had he not heard that stifled -scrap of conversation, he might not have believed so -readily this amazing, incredible statement. But it -seemed to fit in so well with what Randolph had just -told him—to confirm it, in a way—that he felt no -doubt.</p> - -<p>“Then what they said is true,” he murmured, his -eyes fixed in wonder on the face of the slim man beside -him.</p> - -<p>Randolph suddenly stiffened as though an electric -current had passed through his body.</p> - -<p>“Who said?” he rasped. “What did they say? -Quick, tell me!”</p> - -<p>Dick repeated the scrap of conversation he and Brad -had heard in the hotel dining room, and as he listened -Randolph’s face paled.</p> - -<p>“Who were they?” he asked in a strained voice, -“What did they look like?”</p> - -<p>Dick shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know who they were. One was a medium-sized -Jew, very carefully dressed; the other a stout man -with a fat face and small blue eyes. The expression -on his face was like that of a peevish baby. They -both looked like men of importance.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>196</span> -“Marcus Meyer!” Randolph exclaimed, with a sigh -of relief. “I don’t know the other one, but Meyer -controls the diamond trade in the Middle West. They -don’t really know; they only guess. But even if they -were sure, they would keep it quiet for their own -sakes.”</p> - -<p>Buckhart strolled toward them at that moment.</p> - -<p>“You folks must have Frank talked to death,” he -drawled.</p> - -<p>“We’ve just finished,” the older man said, with a -smile, as he rose from the couch. “Would you boys -like to look about upstairs?”</p> - -<p>In one breath the Yale men expressed their readiness, -following their host out into the hall and up the -broad stairs. Randolph touched a button at the top -of the flight which flooded the upper hall with light. -The next instant Dick thought he heard him draw a -sudden, quick breath. Buckhart heard nothing, for he -had dived promptly into an open door close to the -head of the stairs.</p> - -<p>“Any light in here?” he called.</p> - -<p>Scott Randolph hesitated for the fraction of a second -and then pressed a button on the wall.</p> - -<p>“By George!” the Texan exclaimed. “This is sure -a funny room. What’s it for, anyhow?”</p> - -<p>Stepping to the door, Dick looked in. The room -was a small one, not more than twelve feet square, -and had neither doors nor windows, nor any other -opening save the entrance. It was absolutely bare of -furnishings, with not even a shelf on the wall nor a -scrap of paper on the floor. There was nothing but -the four walls of gray stone.</p> - -<p>“Looks like a vault,” Buckhart remarked.</p> - -<p>“It does, doesn’t it?” Randolph said slowly. “But -the only treasures I have kept there are expensive chemicals -which cannot be exposed to light or air or dampness.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>197</span> -If I should shut this door on you, I venture to -say that in two hours at the latest, you would have -exhausted every bit of oxygen in the place; and since -it is absolutely air tight——”</p> - -<p>“Say, don’t!” the Westerner exclaimed, with an expression -of mock dismay. “Let me amble out, quick!”</p> - -<p>Scott Randolph laughed as Buckhart came out of -the room, but his eyes narrowed a little when the Texan -caught sight of the peculiar construction of the door. -Instead of being of wood, it was of sheet steel. On -one side were cemented slabs of stone so that, when -closed, it would be absolutely impossible for a person -inside to locate that door. On the outer side it was -covered with the same oak paneling with which the -hall was lined, and there were no signs of lock or -catch, not even so much as a doorknob or latch.</p> - -<p>“That’s certain sure a neat job,” Brad commented. -“When it’s shut nobody can tell where it is. Regular -secret room, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“That was one of my hobbies,” the man of mystery -explained. “When it is shut, I can push a secret spring -which slides a powerful bolt and holds the door so that -it would be easier to tear down the wall than to -open it.”</p> - -<p>He switched off the light and closed the door. Both -Dick and Brad examined the wall closely, but neither -of them could tell between which panels the joint -came.</p> - -<p>The remainder of the second floor was divided up -into five bedrooms and a bathroom, the water for which -was pumped into a tank on the roof by a windmill -on the cliff above. Passing by a door at the end of -the hall, which, as their host mentioned casually, opened -into a store closet, they mounted to the next floor, -which was given over entirely to the laboratory and -experimenting rooms.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>198</span> -They were all filled with a multitude of machines and -pieces of apparatus, many being of strange shapes and -unknown uses. Randolph stepped forward to explain -one of these to the Texan, giving Dick a significant -glance, and at the same moment pulling open a drawer -in a cabinet which stood against the wall.</p> - -<p>Merriwell had difficulty in restraining an exclamation -of amazement, for the drawer was half full of the -most beautiful diamonds he had ever seen. They were -of varying sizes from a pea to a small hickory nut, and -Dick gave a stifled gasp as he looked at the shimmering, -glittering blaze of light.</p> - -<p>The man closed the drawer with a snap and turned -to the visitors, his face a trifle pale. The drawer -contained a king’s ransom. It seemed beyond the -bounds of reason that they could have been actually -manufactured by this slim, quiet man.</p> - -<p>“But how do you get away from this place without -anybody seeing you?” the Texan was asking. -“People say you’re away for weeks at a time, but no -one sees you go or come.”</p> - -<p>Scott Randolph threw back his head and laughed -heartily.</p> - -<p>“That’s very simple,” he said. “I don’t go away. -When a passion for work comes over me I shut myself -up and absolutely refuse to open the door to any one. -It’s the only way I can accomplish anything. They -may hammer and pound all they like, but I pay no -attention to it. That’s one of the reasons why I had -this house built like a fortified castle. I can shut myself -up in it and work undisturbed.</p> - -<p>“Of course, I have to lay in a big supply of eatables, -and so forth. For instance, this very afternoon I got -in a big order from Jake Pettigrew’s store; and, when -you have gone to-night and the door is locked behind -you, I shall begin one of these periods of retirement<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>199</span> -in order to complete some very important work. -Nothing short of blowing the house down would induce -me to open the door again.”</p> - -<p>As he finished he cast a significant glance at Dick, -who thought he understood what that important work -would be.</p> - -<p>After looking about a little longer, they descended -to the lower hall.</p> - -<p>Glancing at his watch, Dick saw that it was almost -ten o’clock.</p> - -<p>“It’s about time we were wandering,” he said. “I -can’t tell you how much I have enjoyed myself, Mr. -Randolph. It is very good of you to have us up here, -and I shall be careful in delivering your message to -Frank.”</p> - -<p>“The pleasure has been mine, I assure you,” Randolph -returned, as he shook hands with the Yale men. -“It is not often that I have such a relaxation. I am -only sorry that the pressure of work will not allow -me to see you again. However, we shall meet somewhere, -some time. The world is very small, after all. -Good-by, fellows, and good luck.”</p> - -<p>As he spoke, he swung open the great steel door, -and, with a cordial good-by, Merriwell and Buckhart -went out into the night. For a brief instant they -stood in the brilliant square of light which poured out -of the doorway. Then it was suddenly blotted out as -the door clanged and the bolt was shot.</p> - -<p>“He’s sure not running any chances,” Buckhart remarked, -as they stumbled forward through the darkness. -“I reckon his work must be mighty important -when he has to shut himself up in a prison to do it.”</p> - -<p>Dick made no answer. He could scarcely say anything -on that score without committing himself, so -they felt their way along in silence until they struck -the road. Their eyes becoming accustomed to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>200</span> -darkness, they made much better time to Bonnet Trail, -where they found the <i>Wizard</i> safe and sound as they -had left her.</p> - -<p>Merriwell turned on the prestolite and lit the lamps, -before cranking her. Then, circling around, he started -slowly down the road toward the city.</p> - -<p>As they passed Pettigrew’s store a voice suddenly -hailed them from the dark piazza:</p> - -<p>“Hey, there, you fellows!”</p> - -<p>Dick stopped the car and looked back.</p> - -<p>“You want us?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Pettigrew’s lank figure loomed up out of the darkness -as he hurried to the side of the <i>Wizard</i>. His -lively curiosity had made it impossible for him to sleep, -and he had been sitting alone on the piazza for some -time waiting for the return of the Yale men.</p> - -<p>“I jest wondered how you made out up to The -Folly?” he remarked, with an attempt at casualness.</p> - -<p>Dick laughed.</p> - -<p>“Why, we had a very good dinner and passed a -pleasant evening there,” he replied.</p> - -<p>“Waal, I swan!” ejaculated the storekeeper. “I -reckon you’re the only fellers, ’ceptin’ Al Johnson, as -is ever been inside the place. What’s it look like? -What’d you have fur supper?”</p> - -<p>“It’s just like any other house inside,” the Yale -man answered. “You ought to know what we had -for supper, you furnished the supplies, didn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“I did not!” snapped Pettigrew. “I of’en wondered -why this here Randolph don’t git his stuff here. It’s -nearer nor anywhere else.”</p> - -<p>Dick hesitated a moment.</p> - -<p>“Didn’t Mr. Randolph leave a big order with you -this afternoon?” he asked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>201</span> -“No, nor any other arternoon,” the storekeeper returned -promptly. “He never bought a cent’s worth -offen me.”</p> - -<p>This was evidently a sore point, for the man displayed -considerable heat.</p> - -<p>“Well, we must be getting on,” Dick said, as he -let in his clutch. “Good night, Mr. Pettigrew.”</p> - -<p>As the car glided away, Merriwell was thinking over -this new discovery. Randolph had certainly told them -of getting in a large order of supplies from Pettigrew’s -that afternoon, and yet the storekeeper had -just declared most emphatically that the man had never -bought a cent’s worth from him. Randolph must have -been lying. Why had he done so? What possible -reason could he have for wishing to deceive them?</p> - -<p>The next instant he put his hand up quickly to his -breast pocket.</p> - -<p>“By Jove, what a chump I am!” he exclaimed in a -tone of annoyance.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter now, pard?” the Texan inquired.</p> - -<p>Dick stopped the car with a jerk.</p> - -<p>“I’ve left my pocketbook back at Randolph’s,” he -explained.</p> - -<p>“Are you sure you left it there?” Brad asked. -“Mebbe you dropped it in the car.”</p> - -<p>“No; I left it in the library,” Merriwell returned -positively. “I remember now taking it out to get -Frank’s letter, which Randolph wanted to read. I -laid it on the couch, intending to replace the letter -when he had finished. Instead, I must have put it -in my pocket and left the bill case lying there. We’ll -have to go back. It contains all my money and a lot -of other things.”</p> - -<p>He jammed on the reverse and, by dint of careful -manœuvring, turned the car around and started back.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>202</span> -In a few minutes the path was reached, and they -scrambled out and hurried along it as rapidly as they -could.</p> - -<p>Under the bright starlight they had no trouble in -finding their way; but reaching the plateau and facing -the grim, stone building, it seemed even more desolate -and deserted than when they had left it half an hour -before. Under the shadow of the towering cliffs, the -house loomed up a vague, mysterious bulk.</p> - -<p>It did not seem possible that there could be a living -soul behind those dark, silent walls; but it had looked -that way before, and the opening door had revealed -a bright glow of cheerful comfort. Consequently the -two hastened confidently to the entrance and Dick -knocked loudly on the steel door.</p> - -<p>The sound reverberated in a hollow manner which -seemed loud enough to wake the dead, and they waited -expectantly for a response. But none came. Their -keen ears could detect no sound of <a name="footsteps" id="footsteps"></a><ins title="Original has 'footstps'">footsteps</ins> within; -the massive door remained closed.</p> - -<p>After five minutes of patient waiting, Dick was -raising his hand to knock again when Buckhart gave -a sudden exclamation.</p> - -<p>“By George, pard! I’ll bet we can knock here all -night without his coming. Don’t you remember what -he said about shutting himself in after we were gone, -and paying no attention to anybody or anything?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I remember that, all right,” Dick answered; -“but I thought that, coming so soon after our departure, -he would guess who it was and come down -to——”</p> - -<p>He broke off abruptly and looked swiftly upward.</p> - -<p>“Listen!” he exclaimed in a low voice.</p> - -<p>In the silence which followed there came faintly to -their straining ears an odd, muffled humming. For -a moment they both thought it was one of the pieces<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>203</span> -of machinery in Randolph’s laboratory, but very soon -they reached the conclusion that it was much farther -away than that. It seemed to come, in fact, from high -up among the cliffs which towered above the house.</p> - -<p>Dick looked at his friend significantly.</p> - -<p>“It’s a gasoline engine,” he whispered.</p> - -<p>Buckhart nodded silently. It certainly sounded very -much like one.</p> - -<p>“What the mischief is it doing up there on the mountain?” -he asked presently.</p> - -<p>There was no chance for Merriwell to reply. The -humming increased as though the engine was speeding -up, followed by a strange rustling, creaking noise unlike -anything they had ever heard. Suddenly before -their astonished eyes, a vast, black, shadowy shape -rose slowly from the cliffs and hovered an instant in -the air high above them. There was a majestic sweep -of great wings, as it made a wide, half circle; then it -shot northward into the darkness, gathering momentum -at every instant, and a moment later the muffled hum -of the engine died away in the distance.</p> - -<p>“Thundering coyotes! What was that?” the Texan -exclaimed, when he had recovered from his surprise.</p> - -<p>“An aëroplane, I should say,” Dick returned quietly, -though his voice quivered with suppressed excitement.</p> - -<p>This new development added tremendously to the -mystery with which the personality of Scott Randolph -was surrounded, for it must belong to him. There -could be no question of that. But why had he not -spoken of it? What was it doing up on the cliffs? -Above all, what did this silent, stealthy flight through -the darkness mean?</p> - -<p>“What in time is it doing up there?” Brad questioned.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t an idea. I suppose it belongs to Randolph -and that he keeps it up on the cliffs somewhere.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>204</span> -Silently they turned and began to retrace their -steps.</p> - -<p>“Say, partner, mebbe that’s what he’s experimenting -on,” the Texan remarked presently.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps it is,” Dick returned absently.</p> - -<p>Could it be that Randolph had deceived him? Was -it possible that the amazing statement he had made was -false, and that, instead of making diamonds, he was -experimenting on an aëroplane?</p> - -<p>Merriwell did not like to think that the man who -had once been a friend to Frank, and whom he himself -had found so attractive and likable, would stoop -to a thing like that. It was so totally unnecessary, -too. He need not have told any story at all had he -desired to keep his work a secret. Dick had nailed one -lie that night, and if there was one thing he despised -above another it was a deliberate liar.</p> - -<p>But there was the drawer full of diamonds. They -were real enough and bore out the man’s astounding -statement. It was a most puzzling situation.</p> - -<p>All at once Buckhart caught his friend’s arm.</p> - -<p>“Look,” he cried excitedly—“look at the lights!”</p> - -<p>Following the direction of the Texan’s hand, Dick -strained his eyes to the northward. There certainly -were lights there. Brilliant, regular flashes came from -high up in the air many miles away. As Merriwell -studied them, it seemed to him that some one was -signaling from the clouds. If they were really signals, -the man was <a name="using" id="using"></a><ins title="Original has 'uisng'">using</ins> a secret code and not the regular -government system, with which Dick was perfectly -familiar. Suddenly they ceased.</p> - -<p>“Signals, weren’t they?” Buckhart inquired.</p> - -<p>“Looked like it; but I don’t know the code.”</p> - -<p>They had reached the car and Dick stooped to crank -it. The next instant he let go the handle and stood<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>205</span> -erect, his head bent back and his eyes upward, in an -attitude of strained attention.</p> - -<p>A faint humming sound came from the distance, -gradually growing louder.</p> - -<p>The aëroplane was returning.</p> - -<p>Even as this conviction darted into his mind, the -vast shape flashed by high in the air. For a second -the shadowy form was barely discernible against the -glittering stars, and then it vanished from sight among -the mountains.</p> - -<p>“Back again, eh?” commented the Texan. “What -do you know about that? I tell you, pard, this here -gent has sure got me guessing some.”</p> - -<p>Starting the engine with a flip of the crank, Dick -took his seat at the wheel and Buckhart climbed in -beside him.</p> - -<p>“You’re not the only one he has guessing,” Merriwell -remarked, after he had turned the car and started -back. “He’s a most perplexing mystery, and I rather -think we couldn’t spend to-morrow more profitably -than in trying to solve that problem.”</p> - -<p>For several hours that night Dick tossed restlessly -on the bed. His mind was working so actively that -it seemed impossible to go to sleep. Theory after -theory flashed into his brain, as he sought to account -for the curious behavior of Scott Randolph, only to -be rejected because of some serious flaw in his reasoning. -Each of the important, vital facts he had -gathered concerning this mysterious man were utterly -at variance with the other.</p> - -<p>The astounding statement that he had discovered a -method of manufacturing diamonds seemed to be corroborated -by the drawer full of the precious gems, -and also by the scrap of conversation the two Yale -men had overheard in the dining room of the Brown -Palace. Besides, Dick knew that diamonds had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>206</span> -produced by scientists, though not on a scale which -made the process a scientific success. But the thing -was possible.</p> - -<p>In the face of all this stood the lie Randolph had -told and the presence of the aëroplane. Why had the -man kept such absolute silence about the flying machine -when he had been so communicative in a far more vital -matter? And more than that, why had he told Dick -a deliberate falsehood in the matter of the provisions? -What had been his object? What had he gained?</p> - -<p>At last the Yale man gave it up and fell into a -troubled slumber.</p> - -<p>Bright and early next morning the <i>Wizard</i> again left -the city and spun out along Bonnet Trail. Merriwell -had cashed a check at the desk before starting -and so was supplied with funds. Yet he was anxious -to obtain his bill case more for the papers it contained -than for anything else; and besides, it would serve him -as a sufficient excuse for trying to locate Randolph.</p> - -<p>Again the car was driven over to the side of the -trail and the coil plug removed. Again the two friends -hurried up the narrow, mountain track which led -to the mysterious house of stone.</p> - -<p>In the bright glare of the morning sun it did not -look so gloomy and desolate as it had the night before; -but it was still quite grim and forbidding enough, with -its blank expressionless windows and absolute lack of -sound or life.</p> - -<p>Merriwell had hardly expected any response to his -repeated poundings on the metal door, and he was not -disappointed. He might have spared himself the effort.</p> - -<p>When he was finally satisfied that there was no -possibility of effecting an entrance, he turned his attention -to the cliffs above the house, from which the -aëroplane had appeared. A glance told him that they -were insurmountable. For the greater part of their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>207</span> -height they were almost as smooth as glass, and the -top ledges overhung the plateau in such a manner as -to make an attempt at climbing them out of the question.</p> - -<p>“I’d certainly like to get up there,” he remarked. -“But there’s nothing doing from here.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think the flying machine is up there, pard?” -Buckhart inquired.</p> - -<p>“That’s what I want to find out,” Merriwell returned, -“I shouldn’t be surprised if it were.”</p> - -<p>He stepped to the edge of the ravine from which -Randolph had appeared the afternoon previous, but -though a faint outline of a path showed among the -rocks, it turned abruptly away from the cliffs and -followed the course of a little stream as far as the -eye could reach.</p> - -<p>“Let’s take the car and go up the trail a bit,” Dick -said, as he turned from the ravine. “Perhaps we can -find some way to climb up the mountains in that -direction.”</p> - -<p>They went back to the car and Dick drove slowly -on along Bonnet Trail. For perhaps a mile nothing -favorable appeared, then his quick eye discerned the -almost obliterated signs of where a path had once -wound among the rocks up the steep slope. Drawing -the car in to the side of the road, they stepped out -and started their climb.</p> - -<p>The path was rough and winding. Once or twice -they lost it, but, after a little searching, struck it -again farther up. The general direction it took was -southeast, and Dick noticed with satisfaction that it -seemed to lead with more or less directness, toward the -heights surrounding the stone house. On the side of -the mountains was a fair amount of vegetation—small -pine trees and some underbrush. Presently, emerging -upon a wide, fairly level spot surrounded by the higher<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>208</span> -reaches of mountain, they stopped stock-still in astonishment.</p> - -<p>Quite near them was a small cabin, ruined and decayed. -It had evidently been long deserted, and what -its former use had been it was impossible to determine.</p> - -<p>It was not upon the cabin, however, that their eyes -were fixed in gaping amazement. It was a question -whether they even saw it at first, so engrossed were -they in the intricate mass of rods and metal, burnished -copper and great, wide-spreading planes which lay on -the ground near them, stretched out like an enormous, -uncouth bird at rest.</p> - -<p>“By George!” the Texan exclaimed. “It’s the flying -machine, or I’ll eat my hat!”</p> - -<p>“It certainly looks like it,” Dick returned with much -satisfaction.</p> - -<p>Then a strange voice sounded from the cabin, and -the two Yale men whirled around instantly in surprise.</p> - -<p>“Guessed right the first crack, gents. It sure is a -flying machine.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>209</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xviii">CHAPTER XVIII.<br /> -<span>BERT HOLTON, SPECIAL OFFICER.</span></h2> - - -<p>Standing in the doorway was a slim, wiry, alert-looking -man of twenty-eight or thirty, dressed in a -dark, serviceable suit, with leather leggings. He leaned -carelessly against the sagging doorpost, a slight smile -on his smooth-shaven face, watching them with keen, -snapping black eyes.</p> - -<p>“Is this your monoplane?” Dick asked quickly.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know anybody that has a better claim to it,” -the stranger answered promptly.</p> - -<p>As he glanced again at the aëroplane, Merriwell gave -a sigh of relief. This, then, was what they had seen -the night before, and he had quite misjudged Randolph. -The scientist had probably never left his house.</p> - -<p>Dick had been so anxious to think the best of -Frank’s friend that he was rejoiced beyond measure -to believe that his suppositions to the contrary were -wrong. Then he remembered the lie Randolph had -told him. That, at least, had not been disproved.</p> - -<p>“You gents seem mighty interested in my little bird,” -the slim man remarked as he stepped forward and -joined them. “Might I inquire if you’ve happened to -see another one around here lately?”</p> - -<p>Dick gave a slight start.</p> - -<p>“Why do you ask that?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>The stranger hesitated.</p> - -<p>“I might as well tell you the truth,” he said at -length, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I’m -about at the end of my rope, and you’re not apt to -help me any unless you know what you’re doing. My -name is Holton—Bert Holton. I’m a special officer<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>210</span> -from Washington. For about five months we’ve been -trying to run down the cleverest gang of diamond -smugglers that ever tried to beat Uncle Sam. Got on -to ’em first through one of our agents in Europe. -Glen is certainly a smart chap; I don’t know how he -smells out some of these cases, but somehow he got -wind of a party that was having a big bunch of rough -diamonds cut in Amsterdam. Didn’t know where they -came from, but he got suspicious at the amount of stones -the duck had and wired us when he took passage -direct to Canada.</p> - -<p>“We had men on hand to meet the gent, and he was -shadowed wherever he went. He didn’t make any -try to cross the border, but took the Canadian Pacific -direct to a farm he had about two hundred miles the -other side of Winnipeg. It was a good seventy-five -miles from the State line, and the fellows didn’t have -much difficulty shadowing him. They had their trouble -for their pains, though. The old duck didn’t stir away -from his farm for six weeks, and then what do you -suppose he did?”</p> - -<p>Merriwell smiled at the fellow’s earnest manner.</p> - -<p>“Give it up,” he answered. “What was it?”</p> - -<p>“Took ship to the other side and went direct to -Paris. This time the boys over there were ready for -him. He stayed two days at one of the big hotels and -then went to Amsterdam. While at Paris he was seen -talking with a big, rough-looking fellow who looked -like a Dutchman. After Carleton—that was the name -of the Canadian guy—left Paris, this Dutchman was -followed until he got aboard a steamer bound for South -Africa. At Amsterdam, Carleton trots right off to -his diamond cutter, leaves a lot of rough stones with -him, and sails for home with another bunch of cut and -polished sparklers. It was a cute game, and Heaven -only knows how long they’d been playing it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>211</span> -“Well, sir, that chap had the whole department guessing. -Try as they would, they couldn’t catch him with the -goods. Of course, they couldn’t touch him on British -soil; he had a perfect right to have bushels of diamonds -there if he wanted to. But there was a bunch of inspectors -watching him and all his friends, that pretty -near started a riot among the people thereabouts. Nothing -doing, though. He never went near the line; and -if he had, it wouldn’t have done him much good, with -the country a wilderness for hundreds of miles.</p> - -<p>“Finally I was put on the job, and after the fellow’s -third trip across the pond—he must have brought -back half a million in diamonds, all told—I got wise -to their little game. It certainly was the slickest thing -you ever heard of, though I’d been kind of expecting -something of that sort ever since airships began doing -stunts in the air.”</p> - -<p>A look of intense interest leaped into Merriwell’s -face.</p> - -<p>“What!” he exclaimed. “You mean that they brought -the diamonds across the line with an aëroplane?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what,” nodded Holton. “Of course Carleton -wouldn’t let us on his property, so we couldn’t -look around much. He had a lot of fierce dogs, and -the place was full of man traps and all sorts of riggings -like that. But I found out afterward that the -whole side of one of his barns was removable, so when -the aëroplane came at night it landed in the upper -part of the barn and nobody was the wiser. He’d -load up with the sparklers and slide out the next dark -night that came along. The only way I got onto the -game was by keeping watch all night at the edge of the -farm, and at last I saw the thing swoop down and -land somewhere among the buildings.</p> - -<p>“I beat it back home and had a talk with the chief, -who decided that the only way to catch them with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>212</span> -goods was in another aëroplane. You see, nobody had -the least idea where he went after he crossed the -border. So he bought a good model on the quiet, and -I took some lessons running it. In a couple of weeks -I could handle it pretty fair, and it was shipped to -Winnipeg and assembled there. I had the dickens of -a job finding a place near Carleton’s to keep it, but -finally located an out-of-the-way barn that I rented and -fixed up. When the machine was installed there, I -went back to watching again.</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t been at it long before he slid in one night, -and don’t you believe that I wasn’t ready for flight -then. He stayed over one night, but the next he was -off just after dark, and me after him. I thought he -was never going to stop flying. We made about fifty -miles an hour, and by daybreak I figured we must be -somewhere in Wyoming. He landed in the mountains -just as the dawn began to break, and I dropped down -a few miles away.</p> - -<p>“At dark I was ready again, up in the air circling -around. He made for this place straight as a string, -swooped down a little after midnight, and then blamed -if I didn’t lose him. Seemed as if the earth had just -opened and swallowed him up, and I haven’t seen hide -or hair of him since. You see, I’m up against it for -fair, and when one of you gents says, ‘it’s <em>the</em> airship,’ -like as though you’d seen one around here before, I -thought perhaps you’d glimpsed the other fellow’s, and -maybe you could help me out.”</p> - -<p>As he finished, the young inspector looked inquiringly -from one to the other of the two Yale men. He -retained his air of careless nonchalance, but only by -a palpable effort. Deep down underneath it there was -an expression of anxious appeal in his eyes. It was -quite evident that he was, as he had said, “up against -it for fair”; otherwise he would never have confided<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>213</span> -so promptly in two total strangers, and Dick had a -very strong inclination to help him out. But could -he?</p> - -<p>Not being in the least slow, Merriwell had at once -sensed the entire situation. The mystery of Scott -Randolph was a mystery no longer. Bert Holton’s -straightforward story had cleared it up completely. -He was a smuggler, pure and simple. Amazingly -clever, to be sure, and conducting his operations on a -huge scale, he was none the less a smuggler, and his -extremely plausible story of manufacturing diamonds -had been made up out of whole cloth to cover his real -doings.</p> - -<p>A faint flush mounted into Dick’s face as he realized -how he had been duped, and for a moment he -would have given a good deal to be able to put this -clever officer on Randolph’s trail. But could he? There -was that unfortunate word of honor which he had -given and which he could not break. Moreover, such -was Scott Randolph’s extraordinary charm of manner -and likableness that, in spite of everything, Merriwell -did not quite like the notion of turning him over to -the law.</p> - -<p>It was Buckhart who solved the problem. Bound by -no promise of silence, knowing nothing of the diamond -hoax, his mind was so full of what they had seen the -night before that the consequence of his words did not -occur to him before he blurted them out.</p> - -<p>“Why, sure, bucko,” he said quickly. “We saw an -airship fly out of these very mountains last night.”</p> - -<p>A gleam of excitement leaped into Holton’s keen -eyes.</p> - -<p>“You did?” he cried. “What time? Which way did -it go?”</p> - -<p>“About eleven o’clock,” the Texan answered -promptly, “It flew northward.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>214</span> -Holton made a despairing gesture with his hands.</p> - -<p>“He’s gone back to Carleton’s,” he exclaimed. “By -George! He’s given me the slip! If I’m not the -worst kind of a lunkhead!”</p> - -<p>“I reckon not,” Brad put in quickly. “He came back -again in about thirty minutes.”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure?” Holton asked doubtfully.</p> - -<p>“Yep; we saw it plain. He must have gone twelve -or fifteen miles, and then we saw him flash some lights -like signals. Pretty quick after they stopped the machine -came back again to the place where it started -from.”</p> - -<p>“And where was that?” the officer asked eagerly. -“Say, Jack, haven’t you any idea at all who it belongs -to?”</p> - -<p>“We thought it was Randolph,” Buckhart returned -promptly. “He’s the fellow that lives in that stone -house with barred windows and a steel door.”</p> - -<p>“Never heard of him,” Holton said quickly. “I’m -a stranger here, you know. It sounds good, though. -How do you get to it?”</p> - -<p>“Go down to Bonnet Trail and walk toward Denver,” -the Texan answered. “In about half a mile you -come to a narrow road on your right. Randolph’s -place is at the end of that road, not more than a quarter -of a mile——”</p> - -<p>He stopped abruptly as his eyes fell on Dick’s face. -It was calm and impassive, but there must have been -something there which made the big Westerner think -that perhaps he had been saying too much. He hesitated -for a moment and then went on rather lamely:</p> - -<p>“Of course, I’m not at all certain that it was his -aëroplane. It came from near the house, but it might -have belonged to some one else.”</p> - -<p>“All the same, I think I’ll look the gent up,” Holton<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>215</span> -remarked. “It’s the only clue I’ve had, and it -sounds pretty good to me.”</p> - -<p>There was silence for a few moments, then Merriwell -glanced suddenly at the special officer.</p> - -<p>“Are these monoplanes hard to manage?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Why, no, not very,” Holton answered. “The control -is very simple, once you’ve got the hang of it. -I’d rather manipulate a monoplane than a biplane any -day. Ever been up in one?”</p> - -<p>“No, but I’ve always wanted to,” Dick answered. -“I’ve done something with gliders at college. The -principle is pretty much the same, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Exactly. Some people seem to have the idea that -you get along by flapping the planes like the wings -of a bird, whereas they are almost immovable. Of -course, they can be deflected or depressed according -as you rise or descend, but the only thing that keeps -you going is the revolution of the propeller. If the -engine should stop, you’d be turned into a simple -glider. Even then, you wouldn’t go down with a -smash, but by a proper manipulation of the plane and -rudders, you could glide on a long, easy curve, and -could almost choose your own spot for alighting.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” Dick said. “The two rudders are controlled -by levers, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“Sure.”</p> - -<p>Holton stepped to the rear of the aëroplane and -Merriwell followed him interestedly.</p> - -<p>“Here’s the horizontal rudder,” the officer explained, -pointing out the two smaller, parallel planes -which were attached to the extreme end of the light -frame that protruded from the body of the aëroplane -like an enormously long tail. “By a system of wires -and pulleys, it is connected with the lever next to the -seat. You pull that lever forward and the rudder is -thrown upward, inclining the big plane so that the air<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>216</span> -strikes it underneath and drives it upward. In the -same way when the lever is thrown back, the plane is -deflected the other way and the machine descends. In -flying it’s <a name="always" id="always"></a><ins title="Original has 'alway'">always</ins> necessary to give the plane the least -possible upward inclination, so as to get the full benefit -of the air striking against it.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell nodded understandingly.</p> - -<p>“This rudder above it is the vertical rudder, I suppose,” -he said. “It looks exactly like the rudder on a -boat.”</p> - -<p>“It is like it, and acts the same way. You use that -in making a turn, and it is controlled by the lever -next to the other one. Pushed forward, it turns the -rudder to the right, backward, to the left. When -you’re flying straight ahead it’s kept upright, of -course.”</p> - -<p>He pulled a worn, red leather notebook from his -pocket and slipped off the rubber band.</p> - -<p>“It’s this way,” he went on, as he drew a simple diagram -on one of the pages.</p> - -<p>Dick bent his head over the book, while Holton explained -in detail the principle of rudder control, illustrating -his meaning with rough sketches. When he had -finished, the Yale man straightened up and looked again -at the machine.</p> - -<p>“It’s quite as simple as I thought,” he said slowly. -“I believe I could operate it with a little practice. -Eight-cylinder engine, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and it’s a little beauty,” the officer said enthusiastically. -“I’ve never had a bit of trouble worth -speaking about. It’s a French make and only weighs -a fraction under three pounds per horse power. It -drives the crank shaft, which runs under the seat out -to the propeller in front.”</p> - -<p>Dick examined the engine closely. It was beautifully -made and took up a surprisingly small space.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>217</span> -Seeing his interest and his quickness of comprehension, -Holton, who was an enthusiast, pointed out the -various parts, and at the end of half an hour the -Yale man understood it thoroughly.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you’d have to have some kind of a start -to make an ascension from here, wouldn’t you?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“All you’d need would be some one to loosen the -anchor rope which I’ve tied to that tree over there, and -give you a good, running shove,” Holton said. “Of -course, you’d get your engine going first and the plane -and horizontal rudder inclined properly. You see, -with these light pneumatic wheels underneath, it’s no -trouble at all for one man to give you the necessary -starting velocity. Sometimes you don’t even need that, -but can start yourself, especially if you’re on a slight -incline. That’s the sort of place I usually try to pick -out when I come down.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated for an instant. He was plainly an -enthusiastic aviator.</p> - -<p>“I’d like to make a short ascension and show you -how it works,” he said, “but I don’t dare to. That -fellow doesn’t know I’m anywhere around, but if I -went up now, he’d spot me in a minute and be on his -guard.”</p> - -<p>“Of course he would,” Dick agreed readily. “Perhaps, -though, after you’ve nailed him, you’d be willing -to give us an exhibition.”</p> - -<p>“Sure thing,” Holton grinned. “Come out and see -me to-morrow. Maybe there’ll be something doing by -that time.”</p> - -<p>“I will,” Merriwell returned promptly.</p> - -<p>Then he turned to Buckhart.</p> - -<p>“I guess we might as well be on our way, old fellow,” -he said quietly. “Now that we’ve mastered the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>218</span> -principles of flying, there’s nothing to keep us here. -Good-by, Mr. Holton.”</p> - -<p>“By-by, fellows,” the officer said warmly as they -started down the slope. “Much obliged for the tip.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t mention it,” Brad called back.</p> - -<p>They had almost reached Bonnet Trail where they -had left the car, when he stopped suddenly and looked -at his companion.</p> - -<p>“Say, what about Randolph’s aëroplane that we -started to find?” he inquired. “I never knew you to -give up anything as quick as that, pard.”</p> - -<p>Dick smiled.</p> - -<p>“I gave it up because I didn’t want to find it,” he -returned. “Randolph’s a piker, all right, and deserves -to have this fellow Holton land on his neck; but I’d -rather not have anything to do with his capture.”</p> - -<p>The Texan grinned broadly.</p> - -<p>“That’s why you looked so blamed serious while I -was chattering away like a dame at a pink tea,” he -remarked. “I sure put my foot into it, didn’t I?”</p> - -<p>“Not a bit of it,” Merriwell returned. “I was -afraid you were going further and put him wise to -all this talk about diamonds and that sort of thing. -There seems to be no question that he’s the smuggler -Holton is after, but somehow I’d like him to have -every chance he can. We were his guests last night, -and he was mighty nice to us; besides, he used to be a -friend of Frank’s, and—— Oh, well, let’s just put -him out of mind. If he gets pinched, all right; if he -gets away it will be equally satisfactory.”</p> - -<p>This proved to be easier said than done. After a -leisurely luncheon the two friends took the car again -and went for a long drive out toward Castlerock, -from which they did not return until past six. It is -safe to say that half an hour did not pass during the -entire afternoon in which one or the other of them<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>219</span> -was not thinking of Scott Randolph and wondering -whether Holton had found him, or whether he had -escaped, or what had happened.</p> - -<p>Returning to the hotel, Dick drove around to the -garage very slowly; and, instead of running the car -in, he slid up to the curb and stopped. Then he -turned in his seat and eyed Buckhart questioningly -without saying a word.</p> - -<p>“Well, why not?” the Texan inquired suddenly, -apparently apropos of nothing on earth. “I’m sure -curious to know how it all came out.”</p> - -<p>Dick laughed as he guided the car slowly down the -street again.</p> - -<p>“Evidently we haven’t either of us been successful -in getting Randolph out of our heads,” he said. -“We’ll just take a run out and see if I can get hold of -my pocketbook this time.”</p> - -<p>The swift twilight was just beginning to fall as -they hurried up the narrow track and reached the -open space before the stone house.</p> - -<p>If they expected to find any signs of life about -the place they were disappointed. The same grim, -menacing wall of stone confronted them, from the -same desolate, shadowy background. The steel door -was as tightly closed as ever, the barred windows as -expressionless. But wait! Were they quite the same?</p> - -<p>Dick’s eyes were fixed on the end window on the -second floor.</p> - -<p>“Take a good look at that shutter up there, Brad,” -he said in a low tone. “It looks to me as though it -were open about an inch, but this dim light is beastly -deceptive.”</p> - -<p>The Texan studied it for an instant.</p> - -<p>“You’re right,” he said quickly. “It is open the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>220</span> -least bit. Some one’s been there since this morning, -all right.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell stepped to the door and hammered loudly -on it.</p> - -<p>Five minutes passed in unbroken silence. Then -he beat another thunderous tattoo on it, long and loud.</p> - -<p>Still no response. The house was silent as a -tomb.</p> - -<p>The Yale man stepped under the window and -looked keenly up at it. Was it possible that some one -was watching them through that tiny crack? If so, -the rapidly falling darkness hid him effectually. With -a sigh of regret, Merriwell stepped back, his foot striking -a small object on the ground.</p> - -<p>Instantly he pounced on it and held it up.</p> - -<p>It was a small, worn notebook, bound in red leather -and kept together by a rubber band.</p> - -<p>For a moment both men gazed in tense silence at -the commonplace thing. Then Dick slipped off the -band quickly and opened the book.</p> - -<p>As his eyes glanced swiftly over the first page, -even the semidarkness did not hide the sudden pallor -which spread over his face.</p> - -<p>“Heavens above!” he breathed in a horror-stricken -voice.</p> - -<p>“What is it, pard?” Brad asked anxiously. “What -has happened?”</p> - -<p>Unconsciously Merriwell clenched one hand tightly -and his teeth came together with a click.</p> - -<p>“Randolph has shut Holton into the air-tight room,” -he said slowly.</p> - -<p>“What!” gasped the Texan, as though unable to -believe his ears. “Deliberately left him there, you -mean?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>221</span> -“Yes,” Dick said in a hard, dry voice. “Listen.”</p> - -<p>He bent over the notebook, barely able to distinguish -the scrawling words, in the failing light.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p class="mb0">“‘He caught me by a trick,’” the Yale man read -slowly. “‘Says he’s going to shut me in a room where -the air will last two hours and no longer. If anybody -finds this, for God’s sake get me out. I’ve only -a minute to write this and throw it out of the window. -Don’t waste a minute, but hurry. I can’t die like a -rat in a trap.</p> -<p class="right mt0"><span class="smcap">Hol</span>——’”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>The note ended in an irregular line as though the -writer had been suddenly interrupted.</p> - -<p>The Texan’s ruddy face was pale as death and in -his eyes there came a look of horror.</p> - -<p>“Two hours,” he exclaimed in a strange voice—“two -hours to live!”</p> - -<p>Dick threw out one hand in a gesture of despair.</p> - -<p>“And those two hours may be up!” he cried. “No -one knows how long ago this note was written!”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>222</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xix">CHAPTER XIX.<br /> -<span>THE RACE IN THE CLOUDS.</span></h2> - - -<p>The words were scarcely spoken when, from the -cliffs above them, came the familiar muffled purr -of the gasoline engine.</p> - -<p>Instantly a look of hope flashed into Dick’s face as -he quickly turned his head upward. Scott Randolph -had not yet departed. He might be stopped—must -be stopped—and induced to return and release his -prisoner. He could not possibly realize what an awful -thing he was doing.</p> - -<p>The humming increased; there was that same rustling, -creaking sound which had attracted their first -sight of the aëroplane, and then the great black shape -appeared slowly and majestically from among the -mountains.</p> - -<p>Dick placed his hands trumpetwise to his mouth.</p> - -<p>“Randolph!” he shouted at the top of his voice. -“Come back! You must come back! It is I—Merriwell. -You must not leave that man there! Randolph! -Randolph!”</p> - -<p>His voice rang out clearly on the still night air, -and the echoes came back mockingly from the gloomy, -towering cliffs. But Scott Randolph paid no heed. -The course of the black aëroplane did not waver by -so much as a hair’s breadth as it sped on with rapidity -increasing momentum, presently vanishing to the -northward.</p> - -<p>Dick dropped his hands despairingly at his sides.</p> - -<p>“What a monster,” he exclaimed. “What an inhuman -monster! I wouldn’t have believed it possible.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>223</span> -“Isn’t there something we can do?” Buckhart asked. -“We just can’t stand here and let that fellow suffocate. -Don’t you suppose there’s some way of finding -the spring? Or we might tear down the wall.”</p> - -<p>Though he spoke eagerly, there was not much conviction -in his voice.</p> - -<p>“By the time we’d found a way into the house -the man would be dead,” Dick answered. “We -couldn’t tear down the wall in time. No Randolph -is the only one who can save him. He must be -brought back; but how—how to do it?”</p> - -<p>He was thinking rapidly. There must be way—some -way. But there was so little time.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he gave a quick exclamation.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got it! By Jove, I’ve got it! Come along—quick! -There isn’t a second to lose.”</p> - -<p>He turned and flew toward the trail as fast as he -could get over the ground, with Buckhart close at -his heels. Into the car he sprang and started the engine.</p> - -<p>“Never mind the lights!” he cried, as Brad hesitated. -“Jump in—quick!”</p> - -<p>The Texan leaped up beside him, and a moment -later the <i>Wizard</i> was hitting the high places on Bonnet -Trail, heading away from Denver.</p> - -<p>To the bewildered Westerner it seemed as though -they had scarcely started before Dick jammed on the -emergency and leaped from the car. He darted up -the steep, rocky slope, Brad still keeping close behind -him. At last a glimmering of what his friend -meant to do flashed into the Texan’s mind and turned -his blood cold.</p> - -<p>“Say, pard,” he gasped. “You’re—not going—to -monkey with—that airship?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to!” came through Merriwell’s gritted -teeth. “It’s the only way.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>224</span> -There was silence for a brief space as they climbed -rapidly.</p> - -<p>“But you’ll be killed,” Buckhart panted in an unsteady -voice. “You’ve never run one in your life.”</p> - -<p>Dick laughed.</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry, old fellow,” he said. “It isn’t as bad -as that. I may not catch Randolph, but I learned -enough about the thing this morning to keep myself -from being killed—I hope.”</p> - -<p>A moment later they burst through the bushes and -Dick gave a sigh of relief as the shadowy bulk of the -aëroplane loomed before him.</p> - -<p>“I wasn’t quite sure whether Holton had used it -or not,” he said, hurrying toward it. “Now, Brad, -let’s get busy. Just hold a match to that burner while -I turn on the prestolite.”</p> - -<p>The next instant the bright light blazed forth, and -Dick proceeded methodically to prepare for flight. -He passed his hands swiftly over the steering levers -to make sure which was which. Then he turned on -the gas and plugged into the coil. Setting spark and -throttle experimentally, he started the engine. She -pounded a little at first, but he quickly pulled down -the throttle a trifle and soon had her running smoothly.</p> - -<p>That done, he pushed the lever governing the horizontal -rudder forward. The vertical lever he left -upright.</p> - -<p>Swiftly he thought over Holton’s instructions. There -was nothing more to be done, and, with a last look -at the engine, which was running perfectly, he climbed -into the seat.</p> - -<p>For a second he sat there motionless. It must be -confessed that his pulse beat rapidly, and he felt an -odd, unpleasant tightening at his throat as he realized -what he was about to attempt.</p> - -<p>Then the thought of Holton, slowly smothering in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>225</span> -that air-tight room, made him press his lips tightly -together as his left hand reached out and closed over -the steering lever. The propeller in front of him -was revolving swiftly with a whirring sound, and -it seemed as though he could feel the aëroplane tugging -gently at the anchoring rope, as if it were -anxious to be off.</p> - -<p>“Loosen the rope, Brad, and give me a good, running -shove!” Merriwell said quietly.</p> - -<p>The Texan stifled with an effort an almost <a name="irresistible" id="irresistible"></a><ins title="Original has 'irresistibel'">irresistible</ins> -impulse to drag his chum off the seat and prevent -him forcibly from going to what he considered -almost certain death. Then he made a last appeal.</p> - -<p>“Dick, you ought not to do this,” he said, in a -low voice. “It’s madness!”</p> - -<p>“I must, old fellow,” Merriwell returned quietly.</p> - -<p>Somehow the confidence in Merriwell’s voice seemed -to put heart into the big Texan.</p> - -<p>Turning, he walked to the rear of the machine and -slipped the hook of the anchor rope out of the ring. -Then he took a good hold of the framework and ran -forward, pushing the aëroplane before him.</p> - -<p>As it rose with a long, sweeping glide, Dick caught -his breath suddenly.</p> - -<p>For an instant he seemed as though he were standing -still and that the earth was dropping swiftly away -from him—dropping, and at the same time rushing -backward. He wanted to look back at Buckhart, -but he did not dare. It was as though the machine -was poised in so fine a balance that the least motion -on his part would upset the equilibrium.</p> - -<p>The big Texan was left standing in the centre of -the clearing, his hands clenched so tightly that the -nails cut into the flesh, his face white and drawn, -with great beads of perspiration standing out on his -forehead, his whole frame trembling like a leaf. As<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>226</span> -he watched with a strained and breathless eagerness, -the aëroplane soared upward and away, carrying the -best friend he had in the world swiftly out of sight -in that perilous race through the darkness for a human -life.</p> - -<p>It took but a moment for Dick to recover his coolness -and presence of mind. Then he realized that he -was headed in quite the wrong direction.</p> - -<p>Instinctively he felt that it might not be safe to attempt -a turn with the monoplane still gliding upward, -so very slowly he drew the horizontal lever toward -him until he was going nearly on a level. Then he -clasped the vertical lever and pushed it forward, little -by little.</p> - -<p>Luckily there was scarcely any wind, and the aëroplane -responded instantly by turning in a wide, majestic -circle. As soon as the propeller was headed -northward, he pulled the lever back into the upright -position, with a sigh of satisfaction. So far, there -had been not the slightest hitch.</p> - -<p>Presently he noticed that the monoplane was steadily -increasing in speed, but somehow, this did not -trouble him in the least. He was rapidly gaining confidence -in himself and in the strange air craft, which -was momentarily proving herself so much more steady -and controllable than he had ever imagined she -could be.</p> - -<p>Then, too, there was an extraordinary sense of exhilaration -in that rapid flight through the night air. A -delicious feeling of lightness, of buoyancy unlike anything -he had ever known. And stranger than all else -was the amazing lack of fear. It did not seem as -though he could possibly fall, or if he did, he felt -that he would float to earth with the lightness of a -thistledown.</p> - -<p>He leaned forward and deflected the powerful<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>227</span> -searchlight, but he could see nothing. He must have -gone considerably higher than he had realized, and -promptly he pushed back the horizontal lever.</p> - -<p>The result was startling. The monoplane gave a -swift downward plunge which nearly threw him from -his seat, so unexpected was it. With a jerk, he thrust -the lever forward, and the craft slowly regained its -equilibrium and began an upward glide.</p> - -<p>A little experimenting showed him the danger of -dropping too suddenly, and he soon discovered how to -reach a lower level by a series of short gradual glides, -instead of too abrupt a descent.</p> - -<p>After a little he tried the wonderfully powerful -searchlight again and was relieved when he found that -the earth was clearly visible. He must have been at -an elevation of little more than a thousand feet, and -as he swept along at the speed of an express train, the -plains and isolated farms flitted by under him with -the silent, uncanny unreality of a dream.</p> - -<p>Then he flashed the light ahead, but could see nothing -of Randolph’s aëroplane. He increased the speed -a little, and presently he foolishly raised his head -above the wind shield. It cut his skin like alcohol -from an atomizer on a raw surface and made him -draw quickly back into shelter again.</p> - -<p>“Not for mine!” he muttered. “A little more of -that would flay a fellow alive.”</p> - -<p>He shot the searchlight before him and this time -the powerful rays fell on something in the air far -ahead of him—a black, indefinite shape, barely within -the range of the reflector. His heart leaped joyfully.</p> - -<p>“Randolph!” he muttered. “I’m gaining!”</p> - -<p>Almost before he could realize it the black air craft -leaped into vivid relief, he could distinguish clearly -every rod, almost every tiny wire, even the white face -of Randolph shown clear in the bright light. Then<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>228</span> -the black monoplane flashed by him with throbbing -engine and was gone.</p> - -<p>“Great Cæsar!” he gasped in amazement. “He’s -going back! What does that mean?”</p> - -<p>His first natural impulse was to turn swiftly as -he might have done in a motor car, but he caught -himself in time and remembered the need of extreme -caution.</p> - -<p>First pulling down the speed of the engine, he -moved the vertical lever slowly, and executed a wide, -graceful curve. Once headed southward, he increased -the speed and started on the return journey at a rate -that made the air hum.</p> - -<p>What could be the cause of this sudden change -on the part of Scott Randolph? Was it possible -that he had relented and was voluntarily going back -to release Holton? Had he come to a full realization -of the awful thing he had done? Merriwell -sincerely hoped so, but he did not relax his vigilance -in the least. He meant to follow the other aëroplane -to the bitter end, and his searchlight still shot its -bright rays straight ahead as he strained his eyes to -catch another glimpse of the shadowy craft.</p> - -<p>Before long he saw the lights of Denver far in -the distance, but on his right. At once he throttled -down on the engine and swerved to the west a little. -In returning, he had gone too far east. When he was -finally headed in the right direction, he throttled the -engine still further and turned the flashlight earthward.</p> - -<p>In an instant he had his bearings and shut off all -power. The propeller slowly ceased its <a name="revolutions" id="revolutions"></a><ins title="Original has 'revoluntions'">revolutions</ins>, -and the aëroplane, with horizontal rudder depressed -a trifle, glided downward.</p> - -<p>Randolph’s aëroplane was nowhere in sight, but -the bright gleam of light from the door of the house,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>229</span> -showed Merriwell that something out of the way -had happened, and he resolved to waste no time, but -drop down there. He landed in fair shape, but he had -not calculated on the retained velocity of the monoplane, -and the craft rushed forward on its light wheels, -striking against the front of the house with a splintering -crash which threw Dick headforemost out of his -seat to the ground.</p> - -<p>He was up in an instant. Running into the hall, -he dashed up the stairs. The first person that met -his eager gaze was Bert Holton, lying on a couch in -the upper hall, gasping painfully for breath. Then, -standing by the open door of the air-tight room, -he saw Scott Randolph, his face pale, but seeming -otherwise cool and collected.</p> - -<p>“I’m very glad you’ve come, Merriwell,” he said -quietly. “You will be able to look after Mr. Holton. -He is somewhat in want of air just now, but will soon -recover.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated for an instant, still looking straight -into Merriwell’s eyes.</p> - -<p>“I think I have you to thank for saving me from -myself,” he said slowly. “But for you I should have -done something which would have made the remainder -of my life a living hell.”</p> - -<p>There was a puzzled look on Dick’s face.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think I quite understand,” he said. “You -came back of your own accord. What had I to do -with it?”</p> - -<p>“I did not turn until I saw your searchlight,” Randolph -explained. “It was that which brought me to -my senses. The moment I saw it flash far behind me, -I knew that another aëroplane was following me. -I knew there was no other around here but Holton’s, -and he was—er—locked up. It puzzled me for -a moment, and then the realization suddenly came<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>230</span> -to me that it must be you. I don’t know just what -made me think so, but the conviction was a very positive -one.</p> - -<p>“You had found out about Holton in some way, -and had taken the only possible means of following -me to bring me back. And at the thought of the -tremendous risk you were running to save the life -of a total stranger, I seemed to realize for the first -time what a horrible thing I had done. I turned at -once and started back. I was just in time, thank -God! Holton was almost gone.”</p> - -<p>He paused and then went on in a lighter tone:</p> - -<p>“I leave him to your care. I cannot stay. I can -only say that I am glad to have met you, Dick Merriwell. -You’re a thoroughbred, if there ever was one, -and I shall not soon forget you. After what I have -done, you probably won’t shake hands, so I’ll just say -good-by.”</p> - -<p>Without another word, he wheeled and started down -the hall.</p> - -<p>Holton struggled to his feet.</p> - -<p>“Catch him!” he gasped thickly. “Don’t let him -get away! He must not get away!”</p> - -<p>Dick ran down the hall with the officer stumbling -after him.</p> - -<p>“Stop, Randolph!” the Yale man cried.</p> - -<p>The loud slam of a door was his only answer. It -was the door at the end of the hall which Randolph -had told them the night before led into a closet.</p> - -<p>Dashing forward, Dick tore it open and tripped -against the first step of some stairs leading upward. -Without a moment’s hesitation, he hurried up them. -It was slow work, for the way was pitch dark and he -had to trust to his sense of feeling alone. His outstretched -hands touched the rough, uneven surface of -rock on either side. He seemed to be in a natural<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>231</span> -tunnel which wound along with many twists and turns, -but always steeply upward. It had been fitted with -rough wooden stairs, but that was all.</p> - -<p>On he went, and on and on. He felt as though -he must be almost among the clouds before the cool -night wind began to blow upon his face. At last he -emerged on a flat, rock-floored surface, walled and -roofed with timbers, but open in the front.</p> - -<p>The hum of a gasoline engine was in his ears, the -whirring purr of an aëroplane propeller; and, as he -ran forward to the open front of the shed, he saw -the shadowy bulk of the black craft spread out before -him on the flat, rocky surface.</p> - -<p>Even as it flashed into view, it began to move swiftly -down a steep incline.</p> - -<p>“Randolph!” the Yale man cried. “Stop!”</p> - -<p>But Scott Randolph paid no heed. As Dick sprang -out on the rocky platform, the great black aëroplane -launched itself from the cliff, and, gathering speed -with every moment, it soared upward and northward, -vanishing into the night. Presently the muffled throb -of the engine died away and all was still.</p> - -<p>“He’s gone!” almost sobbed a voice at Merriwell’s -elbow. “I’ll never get my hookers on him again.”</p> - -<p>It was Bert Holton, weak and exhausted by his -hard climb, but rapidly recovering in the cool night -air.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid not,” Dick answered slowly. “I don’t -think he’ll ever come back here.”</p> - -<p>But somehow, deep down in his heart, he was not -so sorry.</p> - -<p>Presently he turned and <a name="looked" id="looked"></a><ins title="Original has 'loooked'">looked</ins> about him. They -were standing on the top of the cliff with only the -glittering stars above them. It was a wide, rocky, flat -surface—an ideal spot from which to launch an aëroplane,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>232</span> -sloping sharply as it did, toward the outer -edge.</p> - -<p>Over a small part of this surface a rough shed -had been built. The roof was completely covered with -boulders, and when the great, gray painted doors, -which closed the front, were shut, it would have taken -a keen eye to detect the presence of that ingenious -shelter for the aëroplane.</p> - -<p>“How did he catch you?” Dick asked, turning to -Holton.</p> - -<p>“I was too blamed cocksure,” the officer answered -bitterly. “He was wise to me all the time. When I -come snooping around the house I finds the door open, -and like a fool, in I walks. Next thing I knew he -had a gun at my head.”</p> - -<p>“But how did he know you were around?” Merriwell -interrupted.</p> - -<p>“One of his pals piped him off the other night,” -Holton explained. “That was the signaling you saw. -The guy had seen me following, and put Randolph -wise. That’s why he came back so soon. Well, he -politely tells me what he’s going to do, and then locks -me into a room while he gets his air-tight place ready. -I unfastened the shutter, but there was no way to get -out through the bars. So I hauls out my notebook -and scrawls a note. You got it, didn’t you?”</p> - -<p>Dick nodded.</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t more than tossed it out the window, when -he comes back and makes me go into that room. I -knew from the look in his eyes that he’d shoot me -then and there for two cents. He was just itching -to do it. Otherwise, I’d have made a fight for it. -But I had a little hope that maybe you or some one -would find the book and get me out.”</p> - -<p>He paused and wiped his face with a handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“I can’t describe the rest,” he went on slowly. “It<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>233</span> -was awful. I never hope to go through a thing like -that again. Say, Jack, was that straight what -he said about your taking the monoplane and going -after him?”</p> - -<p>Dick smiled rather ruefully.</p> - -<p>“It was,” he acknowledged. “And I’m very much -afraid I smashed something when I landed outside.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that be hanged!” Holton exclaimed. “I don’t -care a rip if it’s smashed to bits. But, by George! -That was a gritty thing to do! You’ve sure got pluck. -Did you have any trouble?”</p> - -<p>“Not a bit after I got the hang of it,” Dick answered. -“But I certainly had a sinking feeling when -I first went up. Let’s go down and see how much -damage has been done.”</p> - -<p>They felt their way to the stairs and slowly descended. -About halfway down they were surprised -to hear some one stumbling toward them. The next -moment a big body bumped into Dick and a pair of -arms closed around him with a strength that nearly -took his breath away.</p> - -<p>“Thunderation, pard!” came in the Texan’s voice. -“I’m sure a whole lot glad to get my paws on you. -I could rise up on my hind legs and howl like a wolf. -You had me near off my trolley till I saw your light -coming back. I beat it over here quick. Did you -catch him?”</p> - -<p>“I did not,” Dick returned, his hand resting on his -chum’s shoulder. “He came back of his own free will -and let Holton loose. More than that, he was slick -enough to get away again in the aëroplane before we -could stop him.”</p> - -<p>They had reached the lighted hall by this time, -and started down the main stairs.</p> - -<p>“What do you know about that!” Buckhart exclaimed. -“He’s sure a slippery one.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>234</span> -He looked at Dick with a grin.</p> - -<p>“Say, pard,” he drawled, “tell us, honest, how you -like flying?”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Four days later Dick Merriwell read the following -item in a Denver newspaper with absorbing interest.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“Miles City, Montana:—Word was brought to this -city last night of the discovery, by a party of prospectors -in the mountains of Cook County, of a wrecked -aëroplane. The affair has been the cause of a good -deal of curiosity and speculation, since the presence -of an air craft in this vicinity was totally unsuspected. -The machine was completely wrecked, having apparently -struck the rocks from a great height, so that -scarcely a part remained entire. A curious feature -which will, perhaps, lead to its identification, was the -fact that every portion of the machine, planes, metalwork, -framework, and even the engine, had been -painted black. There were no signs of the unfortunate -occupant, but it is hardly to be hoped that he escaped -the fall alive, the supposition being that his body was -eaten by wolves.”</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Dick gazed silently out of the window of the Denver -Club, where he was taking lunch.</p> - -<p>“I wonder!” he murmured presently. “Eaten by -wolves, eh? I don’t believe Scott Randolph was the -man to be eaten by wolves.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>235</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xx">CHAPTER XX.<br /> -<span>THE OUTLAWS.</span></h2> - - -<p>Bob Harrison, manager of the famous “Outlaws,” -was angry. His swarthy face expressing intense exasperation, -he glared at the tall, quiet young man before -him and flourished a huge fist in the air.</p> - -<p>“Now, look here, Loring,” he rasped, “what do you -take me for? Do you think I’m an easy mark? I’m -carrying around the greatest independent baseball team -ever organized, every man a star with a reputation, -and it costs me money. The expense is terrific. The -terms on which I agreed to play your old Colorado -Springs bunch were perfectly understood between us -when we made arrangements over the phone—two-thirds -of the gate money to the winner; one-third -minus local expenses, such as advertising, the sum -paid for the use of the park and so forth, to the losers. -You know this was distinctly understood; now you’re -trying to squeal. You’ve got us here in Colorado -Springs ready to play to-morrow, and you think you -can force me into divvying up with you.”</p> - -<p>“I deny,” retorted the manager of the Colorado -Springs team, “that I entered into such an arrangement -as you claim I did. If you can prove——”</p> - -<p>“Blazes! You know I can’t prove it. I took you -for a man of your word. I had an open date for to-morrow; -so did you. I phoned you, and after we had -fixed it up you said to come on. Now we’re here, -and you want to make it dead certain that you’re going -to get one-half the pie. You’ve got something of -a team, haven’t you? You think your bunch can play -baseball, don’t you? Well, if you can beat us, I’m<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>236</span> -willing you should lug off two-thirds of the gate -money. Such an arrangement as that makes an object -to work for. With an equal division, either of us will -be as well off financially whether he wins or loses.”</p> - -<p>“You called me on the phone, Harrison. You were -mighty anxious for the game; I wasn’t particular. -The open date to-morrow meant an opportunity for -my boys to rest up, and they know it. Hot weather -and a long, grilling pull at the game threatens to make -’em go stale. My pitching staff is on the blink. -There’s only one slabman left in good condition—and -he might be better.”</p> - -<p>Harrison looked the local manager up and down, as -if taking his measure.</p> - -<p>“You’re just about built to run a third-rate bush -league team,” he sneered. “This is the first time I’ve -got bitten by anything as small as you.”</p> - -<p>Loring flushed to the roots of his hair.</p> - -<p>“You’re an insolent, coarse-grained bully, Harrison,” -he said hotly; “but you’ll find you can’t browbeat -me. The Springs will rest to-morrow, and you’ll -do the same as far as I am concerned. It’s off.”</p> - -<p>“Quitter!” snarled Harrison, choking with excess -of anger.</p> - -<p>With a shrug of his shoulders Loring turned and -left the furious man there in the lobby of the hotel, -spluttering and snarling his wrath.</p> - -<p>The Outlaws, managed by Harrison, was indeed a -famous baseball organization, being composed entirely -of men who had worn Big League uniforms. Harrison -had been the manager of the Menockets in a certain -Middle Western League, which had blown up in -the midst of a season, the cause of the disaster being -reckless extravagance and astonishing lack of business -methods on the part of various managers in the -league. The rivalry had been intense, and the salaries<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>237</span> -paid not a few of the players who had deserted the Big -League teams, something to gasp at.</p> - -<p>Stories of these “plums” waiting to be plucked had -caused a host of fast players on the leading teams of -the country to disregard contracts and hike for the -land of promise. In most instances, it is true, these -men had been disgruntled and fancied they were justified -in their acts. Some claimed to have escaped -from a slavery almost as bad as that which once nearly -disrupted the Union. In almost every instance, doubtless, -the lure which drew them like a magnet was the -prospect of big money quickly and easily obtained. -The get-rich-quick microbe lurks in the blood of almost -every human being.</p> - -<p>But the bubble had burst. The Outlaw League had -gone to smash. Nearly a hundred clever baseball players -had found themselves out of a job, with frosty -weather and the end of the season far away.</p> - -<p>Then it was that Harrison had conceived the idea -of making up a nine picked from the cream of the different -teams; and to encourage him he had been able -to arrange in advance a game with St. Louis, in case -he could bring such an organization of stars. Of the -Menocket players he had retained Smiling Joe Brinkley, -Nutty McLoon, and South-paw Pope, the latter -being a wizard who had made an amazing record in -giving his opponents only one hit in the two games -which he had pitched for the New York “Yankees.”</p> - -<p>Then, with his head swelled, Pope had quarreled -with nearly every man on the team, finishing up in a -fist fight with two of them, which resulted in his suspension. -Raw to the bone, he grabbed at the bait -which Bob Harrison flung in his direction at that psychological -moment.</p> - -<p>Smiling Joe had worn a Boston uniform, and had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>238</span> -declined to go back to the bush for another season -when a veteran second sacker had crowded him out.</p> - -<p>McLoon, a great hitter and wonderful centre fielder, -was said to be a bit off in the top story, and for three -seasons the brand of the Outlaw had been upon him, -while he wandered from one unrecognized league to -another. He was remembered, however, for his remarkable -hitting and base running one season with -St. Louis.</p> - -<p>The other men, gathered up from the various disbanded -teams, were Long Tom Hix, once with Cleveland; -Gentle Willie Touch, who had worn a Louisville -uniform; Grouch Kennedy, a former New York -“Giant”; Buzzsaw Stover, from smoky Pittsburg; and -Dead-eye Jack Rooney, who pretended to be not over-proud -of the fact that he was an ex-“Trolley Dodger.”</p> - -<p>Among the reserves were Biff Googins, pinch hitter -from Boston and general all-round man; Strawberry -Lane, a pitcher who had lost his trial game for the -Quaker City Americans and found it impossible to endure -the gruelling of his teammates; and Wopsy Bill -Brown, who had spent a season on the bench with the -Chicago Nationals without being given a chance to -pitch a ball over the plate.</p> - -<p>With this aggregation Harrison had proceeded to -make -<a name="monkeys" id="monkeys"></a> -<ins title="Original has 'monkies'">monkeys</ins> -of St. Paul’s representative nine. Indeed, -the “Outlaws” simply toyed with their opponents -in that game, <a name="winning" id="winning"></a><ins title="Original has 'wining'">winning</ins> at will.</p> - -<p>Then it was that Harrison conceived the idea of -touring with his team of wonders. Being a clever advertiser -and press agent, he managed to get a great -deal of space in the newspapers, and it was not long -before immense crowds of baseball enthusiasts turned -out wherever the Outlaws appeared.</p> - -<p>To his deep satisfaction, Harrison found himself -pocketing more money than he had dreamed of looking<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>239</span> -upon while representing Menocket. He was able -to make a good thing, financially, while paying his -players salaries which satisfied them.</p> - -<p>In the matter of winning games the Outlaws seemed -almost invincible. It is true that they dropped a game -occasionally, but even then it was suspected that this -came about through design rather than necessity. -Through the Middle West, the Southwest, and along -the Pacific Coast they toured triumphantly, boosted -not only by Harrison’s clever advertising, but by sporting -writers everywhere.</p> - -<p>Several times, through the efforts of minor league -managers to gobble up certain men desired from the -Outlaws, Harrison found it necessary to fight in order -to hold his team together. He sought to impress upon -the men the belief that by sticking to him they would -eventually do far better than by accepting the bait of -the minor league magnets. He was continually hinting -of a “plum” that was coming to them.</p> - -<p>Furthermore, he satisfied them that, one and all, -they were Big League timber, and that he possessed -the ability to put them back into the company where -they belonged.</p> - -<p>While Harrison stood there, snarling and glaring -at the back of the departing manager, he was approached -by Dick Merriwell, who was stopping at -the hotel, in Colorado Springs, which was the first -stop, after Denver.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon,” said Dick.</p> - -<p>“Yah!” rasped the manager of the Outlaws, turning -fiercely.</p> - -<p>The other smiled upon him with serene good nature.</p> - -<p>“I chanced to overhear a little of your conversation -with Charlie Loring,” said he. “It was quite without -intent upon my part, I assure you; you were both<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>240</span> -speaking somewhat loudly. As your subject was baseball, -I couldn’t help feeling some interest, for I’m a -baseball enthusiast.”</p> - -<p>“Yah!” repeated Harrison. “Perhaps you’re one -of Loring’s cubs?”</p> - -<p>“No, indeed.”</p> - -<p>“Belong here?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry. I wanted to tell you what I thought of that -yellow quitter, for is he a quitter. I’ve been to the -trouble and expense of bringing my team here to play -a game of baseball to-morrow. Now it’s off—off because -that man won’t stand by his verbal agreement. -It will cost me a tidy little sum.”</p> - -<p>This thought added fuel to his rage, and he swore -again, causing the hotel clerk to glower upon him from -the desk. Fortunately, there were few guests in the -lobby of the hotel.</p> - -<p>The young man seemed more amused than disturbed -by this burst of violent language.</p> - -<p>“The best-laid plans of mice and men go wrong,” -he observed.</p> - -<p>“I hope you don’t call Loring a mouse,” rasped Harrison. -“He isn’t big enough to be a mouse; he’s a -worm. If we could play every day it would be different; -but I’m under heavy expense, and these long -jumps add to the drain. I counted on doing fairly -well here at the Springs, for the place is full of tourists -who must be sick of seeing scenery and itching for -diversion of a different sort. Think of that man going -back on his word and trying to get an even split on -the gate money! I told him over the phone that I -would only play on the agreement that the winning -team took two-thirds. That was pretty fair, too, considering -that in lots of cases the contract has been for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>241</span> -the winners to take three-fourths and the losers the remainder.”</p> - -<p>“Evidently you felt certain of winning.”</p> - -<p>Harrison’s lips curled.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing west of the Mississippi we can’t -beat three times out of four,” he declared, “and I’d -take my chances on an even break with anything the -other side of the river.”</p> - -<p>“You must have a great team.”</p> - -<p>“Haven’t you ever heard about us?”</p> - -<p>“I think I’ve seen something in the papers about -you.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got the fastest independent team ever pulled -together in this country. There isn’t a man in the -bunch who can’t step into any of the Big Leagues and -make good. They have played on the big teams, every -one of them.”</p> - -<p>“Has-beens?” questioned the young man smilingly.</p> - -<p>For a moment it seemed that the manager of the -Outlaws would explode with indignation.</p> - -<p>“Has-beens!” he rasped. “Not on your life! -Comers, every one.”</p> - -<p>“But I inferred they had been canned by the big -teams.”</p> - -<p>“Canned! Wow! You don’t know what you’re -talking about. Not one big-league manager out of -ten knows how to handle an eccentric or sensitive -player. Most of them have the idea that the way to -get baseball out of a man is to pound it into his head -that he’s a slob. They are afraid the new player will -get chesty and conceited. Now, there’s another way -to take the conceit out of a youngster without breaking -his spirit. I know how to do it.</p> - -<p>“Never mind; it’s my secret. You’ll find my boys -pulling together like clockwork if you ever see them -play. They’re fighters, just the same. They’re out<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>242</span> -to win, you bet. Sometimes to see them you would -think they were going to eat one another up. ’Sh! -It’s all a bluff. They do that, so they can turn on the -opposing players the same way, and it generally gets -the other team going.”</p> - -<p>Dick lifted a protesting hand.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let me in on too many of your secrets,” he -smiled; “for I am contemplating challenging you to -play a game with a team of my own organizing.”</p> - -<p>Bob Harrison was astonished. He stepped back and -surveyed the speaker from head to foot, an amused, incredulous -grin breaking over his face.</p> - -<p>“You?” he exclaimed. “You were thinking of challenging -us?”</p> - -<p>“So I said.”</p> - -<p>“I thought maybe I misunderstood you.”</p> - -<p>“Evidently you didn’t.”</p> - -<p>“Where’s your team?”</p> - -<p>“Right here in Colorado Springs.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, some amateur organization, eh?”</p> - -<p>“You might call it that; we wouldn’t call ourselves -professionals.”</p> - -<p>“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Harrison. “Why, my boy, -it would be a joke.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t know about that. I have an idea -that I can get together nine college baseball players -who will make it a fairly interesting game, if you dare -accept my challenge.”</p> - -<p>“Dare!” spluttered Harrison. “Why, young fellow, -I’d jump at the opportunity, if there was anything -in it. It wouldn’t be worth my time, however, to play -a bunch of kids.”</p> - -<p>“You won’t find them kids—not exactly. I presume -you’ll admit that there are some college men who -can play baseball.”</p> - -<p>“In every way. But the finest college teams have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>243</span> -no business with professionals; in proof of which, consider -the result of the regular yearly Yale-New York -game. The ‘Giants’ always have a snap with the -college boys.”</p> - -<p>Dick nodded.</p> - -<p>“That’s the natural order of things,” he confessed. -“The New York team is made up of the best professionals -in the country, and those men play together -year after year until they become a machine. Yale -picks from her undergraduates, and the personnel of -the team is constantly changing. This prevents the -collegians from working out a team organization with -the fine points of a big professional nine.</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless, year after year New York spots certain -promising youngsters on the college team and attempts -to get a line on them. If those same youngsters -could play together season after season under a crackajack -coach, it wouldn’t be long before the Giants would -have to hustle in order to take that spring exhibition -game.”</p> - -<p>“You seem to know something about baseball,” admitted -the manager of the Outlaws, nodding his head -slowly, “and there’s more or less sense in what you -say; but you’re talking about picking up a team here in -Colorado Springs to butt against the acknowledged -fastest independent nine the country has ever seen. -You haven’t practiced together, and you would be rotten -on team work.”</p> - -<p>“By chance,” said the young man, “I happened to -come to Colorado Springs. With me came some players -from my own college team. To our surprise and -pleasure, we found here at the Springs some other men -from the same college team. We’ve nearly all played -together. I’m confident that we can get together a -nine that will acquit itself with a certain amount of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>244</span> -credit. In fact. I think we can make you hustle to -beat us.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t look like a chap with a swelled head; but -I’m afraid you’ve got a touch of it.”</p> - -<p>“In that case,” was the laughing retort, “you might -do me an eternal favor by reducing the swelling.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not working for the benefit of humanity in general; -I work for Bob Harrison’s pocket.”</p> - -<p>“You might be doing that at the same time. You -have been well advertised. Wherever you go people -turn out especially to get a look at your wonderful aggregation -of stars. They would do it here, even if -they felt pretty sure that the game might be one-sided. -It’s better than lying idle to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“What’s your name?” demanded Harrison suddenly.</p> - -<p>“You may call me Dick.”</p> - -<p>“Dick what?”</p> - -<p>“Well, Richard Dick—let it go at that for the present.”</p> - -<p>“Richard Dick? Odd name. Mr. Dick, what do -you reckon you’re going to get out of this?”</p> - -<p>“Sport—that’s my object. If we could beat you, -we would get a little glory also.”</p> - -<p>“I should say so! Beat us? Why, boy, you couldn’t -pick up a bunch of college men in America who could -do that trick once out of ten times.”</p> - -<p>“Did it ever occur to you, Mr. Harrison, that you -might possibly have a slight touch of the swelled head -yourself?”</p> - -<p>The manager of the Outlaws gasped, frowned, and -grinned.</p> - -<p>“Of all sassy youngsters, you are certainly the -smoothest.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not insinuating that you have; but such a thing -is possible for a man of any age and station in life. -It is true that young men are far more often afflicted<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>245</span> -by it. Now, look here, Mr. Harrison, you’re up -against the necessity of lying idle, accepting Charlie -Loring’s terms, or playing with some other team. -I don’t think Loring is anxious to play for some reason -or other. He may have been; perhaps he was when he -phoned you. Isn’t it likely that advisers got at him -after he phoned and made it apparent that he would -place the Springs in a ridiculous light if the game was -pulled off and your Outlaws buried him alive? If he -could be sure of the soothing balm of an equal division -and a big pull at the gate money, he might afford to -let them laugh; but to be walloped and get the short -end of the finances would make him ridiculous. Now -I’m not afraid of anything of that sort.”</p> - -<p>“I should say not! Apparently you’re not afraid of -anything at all.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll guarantee to pick up -a team to play you to-morrow, and the winners shall -pocket three-fourths of the gate money, the losers paying -all expenses. Can you ask anything more satisfactory?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing except an additional guarantee of two -hundred and fifty dollars.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, you are modest!” scoffed Richard Dick. -“You seem to want it all, and a little something more. -But if you think you’re dealing with a blind sucker, -we had better drop the business at once. I’ve told you -I was out for sport, and that will satisfy me. Whatever -share of the gate money might come to me, I’d -agree in advance to donate to the Collins’ Home for -Consumptives. I don’t want a dollar above expenses, -and our expenses will be light.”</p> - -<p>“You’re certainly not working this deal as a business -proposition,” agreed Harrison. “How do I know -you’ll get up the team? How do I know you’ll play at -all? Perhaps you’ll squeal, as Loring did.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>246</span> -“I’ll agree to place a hundred dollars in the hands of -the proprietor of this hotel, as a forfeit to be paid you -in case we don’t play. I shall ask that you put up a -similar amount as a forfeit. The game shall be advertised -at once—as soon as I can make arrangements -for the field. The announcement shall be spread broadcast -that a team of college players will meet your Outlaws -to-morrow afternoon. What say you?”</p> - -<p>“It sounds better than nothing,” admitted Harrison -slowly. “Of course, you chaps wouldn’t be much of -a drawing card, but we might get out a fair crowd to -see my boys work. Yes, it’s better than nothing.”</p> - -<p>“Do you accept?”</p> - -<p>“Three-fourths to the winners, and the losers to pay -all expenses?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“But the grounds—how can you get them?”</p> - -<p>“Leave it to me. I happen to know Charlie Loring -personally. The local team will not use the grounds -to-morrow. I’m confident I can secure them.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” snapped the manager of the professionals -sharply, “it’s a go. We’ll sign an agreement -right away. I have a regular blank form, which can -be filled out in less than a minute. I accept your proposition -that each of us shall place one hundred dollars -with the proprietor of this hotel to stand as a forfeit -in case either party backs down. Come ahead into the -writing room.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>247</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxi">CHAPTER XXI.<br /> -<span>DICK MERRIWELL’S FIST.</span></h2> - - -<p>When they came to sign the agreement Harrison -was not a little surprised to note that instead of “Richard -Dick” the name the young man wrote at the foot -of the document was Richard Merriwell.</p> - -<p>“Hey?” cried the manager of the Outlaws, gazing -at that signature. “What’s this? I thought you said -your name was Dick.”</p> - -<p>“And so it is,” was the smiling answer; “Dick Merriwell. -While we were talking I told you that Richard -Dick would serve for the time being.”</p> - -<p>“Merriwell? Merriwell? I’ve heard of a fellow by -that name—Frank Merriwell.”</p> - -<p>“My brother.”</p> - -<p>“That so? He was a great college pitcher. He was -one of the college twirlers the Big Leagues really -scrambled for—and couldn’t get.”</p> - -<p>“My brother always had a decided disinclination to -play professional baseball. For him, like myself, it -was a highly enjoyable sport; but to take it up professionally -went against the grain.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” grinned Harrison, “I understand about -that. He didn’t have to do it. If he had been poor, -maybe he’d looked at it differently; but he was loaded -with the needful, and, therefore, he could afford to -pose.”</p> - -<p>“At one time, in the midst of his college career, my -brother was forced to leave Yale on account of poverty.”</p> - -<p>“Really?”</p> - -<p>“Really. He might have gone into professional -baseball then and made money.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>248</span> -“Why didn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Because of his prejudice against professionalism in -that sport; because he hoped some day to return to -Yale and finish his course, and he wished to play upon -his college team.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that rule about professionalism is all rot.”</p> - -<p>“It is useless to enter into a discussion over it. It -may seem to work unfairly toward certain clean young -college men who might make money playing summer -baseball; but on the whole, it’s an absolute necessity to -keep college baseball from deteriorating into something -rotten and disgraceful.”</p> - -<p>“It’s pretty rotten now in some cases. Lots of college -men play for money on the quiet.”</p> - -<p>“Some may, but not so many as is generally supposed. -Those who do so are dishonest.”</p> - -<p>“That rule makes them dishonest.”</p> - -<p>“No, it doesn’t. They might do something else. -There are many ways by which a college man can earn -money to help himself. If he’s a good player or athlete, -he will find hands enough extended to help him. -He will be given opportunities of earning money honestly -by honest work. The trouble with nine out of -ten of the ball players who play for money is that they -shirk real work. I said I wouldn’t enter into a discussion -over this rule, but you seem to have lured me into -one.”</p> - -<p>“What did your brother do when he had to leave -college and go to work?”</p> - -<p>“He started in as an engine wiper in a railroad locomotive -roundhouse.”</p> - -<p>“Engine wiper! A greasy, dirty, slaving job.”</p> - -<p>“Well, pretty near that; but he didn’t stay at it -long.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! Ho! ho!” laughed Harrison derisively. “It -was too much for him, hey? He quit, did he?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>249</span> -Dick Merriwell flushed a little.</p> - -<p>“My brother never quit in his life,” he retorted. -“He was promoted. It wasn’t long before he was a -locomotive fireman, and the day came when his place -was at the throttle.”</p> - -<p>“That wasn’t doing so worse,” admitted the baseball -manager. “He must be some hustler.”</p> - -<p>“He’s a hustler all right. He never yet put his hand -to the plow and turned back.”</p> - -<p>“And you’re his brother?”</p> - -<p>“His half-brother.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t taken much interest in college baseball -these late years,” admitted Harrison. “Been too busy. -What position do you play?”</p> - -<p>“I pitch.”</p> - -<p>“Well, my boy, we’ll try to treat you gentle and -kind to-morrow. It would be a shame to spoil your -reputation all at once.”</p> - -<p>“That’s very thoughtful,” laughed Dick. “Now, -we’ll put up that forfeit with the hotel proprietor, with -the understanding that it doesn’t stand if we can’t get -the park for the game.”</p> - -<p>“We? You said——”</p> - -<p>“That I thought I could make arrangements with -Charlie Loring. I do. I shall attend to that matter -at once. Are you stopping at this hotel?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; but my players are at the Sunset.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll phone you as soon as I’ve secured the park.”</p> - -<p>“O. K. I’ve got a lot of paper I’ll agree to scatter -through this town, telling people just what sort of a -team they’ll see if they come out for the game to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“And I’ll attend to the rest of the advertising.”</p> - -<p>At the desk they called for the proprietor, who came<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>250</span> -forth, after a brief delay, from his private office. -When the matter was explained he agreed to hold the -forfeit money, which was placed in his hands.</p> - -<p>As they were turning from the desk a lanky, hard-faced -man with a hoarse, rasping voice approached and -spoke to Harrison.</p> - -<p>“What’s this about the game here?” he inquired. -“I hear it’s off. If there’s no go to-morrow, I’ll run -up to Denver this afternoon to visit an old partner of -mine who’s playing on the Denver nine.”</p> - -<p>“It looks now, Stover,” said Harrison, “as if there -might be a game to-morrow, but not with the regular -Springs team.”</p> - -<p>The fellow with the harsh voice appeared decidedly -displeased.</p> - -<p>“I was counting on a lay-off,” he growled.</p> - -<p>“You get lay-offs enough, Stover. Out in this country -we don’t play more than four games a week at the -most.”</p> - -<p>“Well, when we’re not playing, we’re pounding -around over four or five hundred miles of railroad at -a jump.”</p> - -<p>“Quit your growling. You have a snap, and you -know it. Can’t you shake that grouch you’ve had for -the last ten days?”</p> - -<p>“Who do we play with, anyhow?”</p> - -<p>“A team of college men.”</p> - -<p>“What? Well, that will be a ripping old game! -Them college kids can’t play baseball. They don’t -know what it is.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you’ll change your mind after to-morrow,” -smiled Dick.</p> - -<p>The fellow gave him a contemptuous stare.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I reckon you’re one of the college guys.”</p> - -<p>“You’re right.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>251</span> -“He’s the manager of the team,” explained Harrison.</p> - -<p>“He looks it. Somebody picked him too soon. He -isn’t half ripe yet.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t mind Buzzsaw, Merriwell,” said the manager -of the Outlaws. “This is his way when his liver -goes wrong.”</p> - -<p>“He needs to take something for his liver,” said -Dick. “A shaking up would do it good. If he handed -out enough loose tongue to some people he might get -the shaking up.”</p> - -<p>“Well, blamed if you ain’t a sassy young rat!” -rasped Buzzsaw Stover, an ugly light in his eyes.</p> - -<p>Harrison grasped the man’s shoulder, turned him -around, and gave him a push.</p> - -<p>“Go away, Stover,” he commanded. “You’ve been -ready to fight with anybody for a week or more.”</p> - -<p>“By and by,” laughed Dick quietly, “he will get -what he’s hunting for.”</p> - -<p>Stover walked out of the lobby.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later Dick followed. He found -Buzzsaw waiting on the street. The pugnacious Outlaw -blocked Dick’s way.</p> - -<p>“What you need, my baby, is a first-class spanking,” -rasped Stover. “If you’d minded your own business, -I’d had the rest of to-day and to-morrow to do as I -please.”</p> - -<p>“If I was manager of your team you would have -the rest of to-day and to-morrow, and the brief remainder -of this season, and all the seasons to come, -to do as you please,” returned Dick quietly. “I would -hand you a quick shoot that would land you at liberty -to please yourself for all time.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you would, hey?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I told you.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll hand you something you won’t forget!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>252</span> -As he roared forth the threat Stover sprang in and -swung a blow at the face of the seemingly unprepared -Yale man.</p> - -<p>Several minutes later Buzzsaw awoke to find Warwhoop -Clinker and Gentle Willie Touch laboring to -revive him, while a curious crowd stood around looking -on.</p> - -<p>“What’s—what’s matter?” mumbled Stover. “What -happened to me—sunstroke? This blamed hot -weather——”</p> - -<p>“It was a stroke, all right,” murmured Gentle Willie, -“and it was the son of some proud father who -passed it out to you. He was a nice, clean, sweet-looking -young man.”</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” snarled Stover, struggling to rise. -“What are you talking about?”</p> - -<p>“You got up against a polite gent and made one -reach for him with a bunch of fives,” explained Warwhoop. -“Willie and I were over across the way and -saw it all. We didn’t know what was going to happen -until it was all over and you had stretched yourself -out to rest in the dust. He reached your jaw -with the quickest wallop I ever saw delivered. There -must have been chain lightning behind it, for you -went down and out instanter.”</p> - -<p>Stover felt of his jaw and rubbed his head wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“Who was it?” he asked. “I remember talking to -that upstart who’s made arrangements to put a college -team against us to-morrow. He got sassy, and I decided -to take it out of him.”</p> - -<p>“You made a slight miscalculation, Buzzsaw,” murmured -Gentle Willie. “He knocked you stiff.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a lie!” snarled Stover. “Somebody hit me -from behind.”</p> - -<p>“No,” denied Clinker, “that young fellow ducked<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>253</span> -your blow and rose with a wallop on your jaw that -sent you to by-bye land.”</p> - -<p>It was beaten in upon Buzzsaw at last that he had -been knocked out in a flash by a single blow of Dick -Merriwell’s fist. He struggled to his feet a bit weak, -but shook off the supporting hand of Warwhoop.</p> - -<p>“He took me by surprise,” he snarled. “I wasn’t -looking for it. Wait! I’ll get him for that, and I’ll -get him good and hard!”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>254</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxii">CHAPTER XXII.<br /> -<span>ALL ARRANGED.</span></h2> - - -<p>Having disposed of Buzzsaw Stover and seen him -cared for by his two friends, Dick Merriwell quietly -walked away and sought Charlie Loring at the Sunset -House, a small hotel at which most of the Outlaws had -found accommodations.</p> - -<p>It fortunately chanced that Loring was there, and -soon Dick was explaining his business. Surprised, the -manager of the Springs nine looked Merriwell over -with a queer smile on his face.</p> - -<p>“What’s this you’re giving me?” he said. “You -want to engage the ball park to-morrow? You’ve -made arrangements to play Harrison’s Outlaws? -Why, my boy, where’s your ball team?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll have one to-morrow,” laughingly declared Dick.</p> - -<p>“But I don’t understand where you’ll get it.”</p> - -<p>“Leave it to me, Loring. If I can secure the field -I’ll put a team against Harrison’s bunch.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I think perhaps we can fix it about the park. -When I entered into negotiations with Harrison, I had -no idea the backers of my team would object, but in -a way they’re a lot of old women, and they got cold -feet. You see, they have an idea that these Outlaws -would make us look like fourth raters, and they’ve figured -it out that there wouldn’t be much of any profit -in the game anyway if we got only one-third of the -gate money and stood for all the expenses.</p> - -<p>“Furthermore, it’s a fact that my players are pretty -badly smashed up. We’ve had rotten hard luck this -season. I really couldn’t blame Harrison for making a -howl, though he barked it into me so hard that I had to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>255</span> -get away in order to keep from punching him. You -understand when the financial backers of my team got -out from under me I had to find a loophole for myself. -Never did such a thing before, and I hope I’ll -never be forced into it again.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if I get together a nine and play the Outlaws -it will let you out all the more gracefully. Your backers -ought to jump at this chance. They really ought -to give us the use of the park without money and without -price.”</p> - -<p>“That’s right. Perhaps I can fix it that way. I’ll -put it up to them good and stiff and let you know inside -an hour. I’ll phone you at your hotel; I know -where you’re stopping.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you.”</p> - -<p>“Still, as a special favor, would you mind telling me -where you expect to get your players?”</p> - -<p>“Buckhart, the regular Yale catcher, is here with me. -Two others of my party are Tommy Tucker, who once -played short on the Yale varsity, and Bouncer Bigelow, -who isn’t much at baseball, but might fill right -field on a pinch—though I hope I won’t have to use -him. Chester Arlington, an old Fardale schoolmate, is -stopping here, along with his mother and sister. To my -surprise and delight, this very morning I ran across -old Greg McGregor, a Yale grad who once played on -the varsity nine, and McGregor tells me that Blessed -Jones, another Yale man, will be down from Denver -this afternoon. They’re out here on some sort of a -business deal.</p> - -<p>“There are seven men of the nine, if we count Bigelow -in. Jimmy Lozier and Duncan Ross, two Columbia -men, are here at the Springs, stopping at the -Alta Vista. We sat out in the moonlight last night and -talked baseball and college athletics for two hours.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>256</span> -The fever is still burning in their veins, and they would -jump at the chance to get into a game.</p> - -<p>“So you see, Loring, old man, I’m confident that I -can get a team together. I hope to find another man, -so that I can keep Bigelow on the bench in case of accident. -I didn’t jump into this blindly; I had it all figured -out in advance.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it seems that you can scrape up a team; but, -oh, my boy! what chance do you fancy you will have -against the Outlaws? They will make a holy show of -you.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps so,” nodded Dick; “but you never can tell. -We’re not going into this thing for money. In fact, -I’ve agreed to donate my share of the gate receipts to -the Collins’ Home for Consumptives. It’s sport we’re -after, Loring.”</p> - -<p>“There isn’t much sport in being wiped all over the -map. However, if you fancy it, that’s your funeral, -not mine. I’ll do what I can for you.”</p> - -<p>“Harrison has agreed to pepper the town with paper -advertising his own team. I’m to look after the rest -of the advertising.”</p> - -<p>“Leave that to me also, Merriwell. If I can get -the park for you, I’ll see that everybody at the Springs -knows there’s going to be a game to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Loring. You’re putting yourself to -too much trouble.”</p> - -<p>“Not at all. I couldn’t put myself to too much trouble -to oblige the brother of Frank Merriwell.”</p> - -<p>True to his word, in less than an hour Charlie Loring -looked up Dick at the big hotel where Merriwell -was registered and informed him that he had found no -difficulty in securing the ball park. The matter of advertising -was discussed, and Loring hastened away to -attend to it.</p> - -<p>Having phoned Harrison and put him wise to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>257</span> -successful course of affairs, the Yale man looked -around for Lozier and Ross. He found the latter in a -short time, and Ross delightedly agreed to play, giving -his positive assurance that Lozier would be equally -glad of the opportunity.</p> - -<p>Things were moving along swimmingly. On the -broad veranda of the hotel Dick discovered Chester -Arlington, who greeted him with a friendly smile.</p> - -<p>Arlington pricked up his ears at once on hearing -what Merriwell had to say.</p> - -<p>“Baseball?” he cried. “A game with the Outlaws? -Why, say! I thought they were to play the local -team.”</p> - -<p>“So they were, but it’s off—a disagreement over -terms.”</p> - -<p>“And you’ve got it fixed to tackle them?”</p> - -<p>“It’s all fixed. The ball ground is engaged for the -game.”</p> - -<p>“Will I play!” laughed Chester. “<em>Will</em> I! Ask me! -I haven’t touched a ball, it is true, since I played down -in Texas with Frank’s pick-ups. Oh, we gave the -great Tigers a surprise down there! But say, I’ve -been looking over the list of games played by these -Outlaws, and they walloped the Tigers to a whisper. -They must be the real hot stuff.”</p> - -<p>“I fancy they are,” nodded Dick.</p> - -<p>“Think we’ll stand any show with them?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know about that. We’ll do our handsomest, -and it won’t kill us if we’re beaten. Nevertheless, if -they win we’ll try to leave them with the impression -that they’ve been in a baseball game.”</p> - -<p>“Surest thing you know, Dick. Say, old man, think -of it! You and I playing together shoulder to shoulder—you -and I, old foes of bygone days! I’m not -especially proud of my record in those old days; but -still, I can’t help thinking of it sometimes.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>258</span> -“I think of it often, Chet. As an enemy you were -the hardest fighter I ever got up against.”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely unscrupulous,” said Arlington. “In -those times it was anything to down you, Merriwell. -I used to think you lucky, the way you dodged my -best-laid traps and sort of ducked me into the pits of -my own digging. After a time I got my eyes opened -and realized that it wasn’t luck—it was sheer superiority. -I was sowing the wind in those days, and it’s -a marvel that I didn’t reap the whirlwind. I was the -lucky man, after all.”</p> - -<p>Indeed, Arlington had been fortunate; for a score of -times, at least, he had been concerned in heinous plots -and schemes which might have lodged him behind -prison bars. His reckless career had carried him to -the point of nearly committing homicide, and the shock -of it, together with Dick Merriwell’s friendly eye-opening -words, had finally caused him to turn over a -new leaf.</p> - -<p>The fight to regain his lost manliness and win an -honorable standing in the world had been long and bitter; -but, with those words from Dick’s lips echoing in -his heart, he had struggled onward and upward. At -last he had shaken himself free from the shackles of -evil passions and bad habits, and, despite occasional -falls and lapses, had risen to a man whom any one -might proudly call friend.</p> - -<p>In business, as in other things, Chester had shown -himself to be a thoroughbred hustler and the worthy -son of D. Roscoe Arlington, once known as the greatest -railroad magnate of the country. This hustling -had lifted him into financial independence, despite his -youth, and placed him on the road to wealth. Mingled -with remorse for his reckless past, there remained the -regret that he had never been able to take a course at -Yale.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>259</span> -“Buckhart, Tucker, and Bigelow are out somewhere -with old Greg McGregor in my touring car,” said Dick. -“They will be ready enough for the sport. Tommy -and Bouncer spent a week, with headquarters here at -the Springs, while Brad and I hunted up Scott Randolph, -an old college acquaintance of my brother. We -found Randolph in the foothills west of Denver. It’s -a mighty interesting tale, Arlington, and I’ll spin it for -you sometime when we’re sitting down comfortably at -leisure.”</p> - -<p>“Good! Think of it—you and I sitting down comfortably -at leisure and chatting! But say, old man, I -wish you would have a little chat with my mother.”</p> - -<p>“Your mother?” breathed Dick, not a little surprised -by the proposal.</p> - -<p>“Yes. You know she’s ill. It’s pitiful, old man—she -has almost completely lost her memory. I was -speaking to her of you last night, and she tried in vain -to recall you. She’s sitting yonder at the far end of -the veranda.”</p> - -<p>As Chester made a motion with his hand Dick’s -eyes discovered a woman, seated amid pillows in a -big, comfortable chair. He was shocked. Was it -possible that this thin, sad-faced, white-haired old lady -was Chester Arlington’s mother, the woman who, as -an enemy, had been even bitterer and more venomous -than Arlington himself?</p> - -<p>There she sat with her pallid hands resting on her -lap, gazing dreamily upon the mountains which rose -majestically against the western sky.</p> - -<p>“Will you come, Merriwell, old man?” asked Arlington -softly, as his hand rested on Dick’s arm.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” was the answer.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>260</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxiii">CHAPTER XXIII.<br /> -<span>CHESTER ARLINGTON’S MOTHER.</span></h2> - - -<p>Mrs. Arlington looked up as they approached, and -at sight of her son a faint smile passed over her face. -From her faded eyes the old fire had died, to be rekindled -no more. There was no longer rouge upon -cheeks or lips, and the hands which had once been -loaded with jewels were now undecorated, save by a -single heavy ring of gold, her wedding ring. Her -dress was plain and modest, almost somber.</p> - -<p>“Mother,” said Chester tenderly, “this is Dick Merriwell. -You remember, don’t you, that we were speaking -of him last evening?”</p> - -<p>“Dick—Dick Merriwell?” she murmured. “Were -we speaking of him, Chester? I’m so very forgetful. -It’s annoying to be so extremely forgetful.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, mother, I told you that he was my dearest -friend—the fellow I esteem above all others.”</p> - -<p>She held out her hand, which Dick promptly took, -bowing low, his head bared.</p> - -<p>“You will excuse me, Mr. Merriwell,” she said. “I -would rise to greet my son’s dearest friend, but I’m -not very strong.”</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t have you rise for the world, Mrs. Arlington,” -said Dick, his voice a trifle unsteady in spite -of himself, a slight mist creeping into his eyes. “I -am very glad indeed to meet Chester Arlington’s -mother. It is a pleasure and a privilege.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she returned, looking at him earnestly. -“You have a fine face, and you are a thoroughbred -gentleman. My boy has to mingle with very rough -characters, you know—his business demands it. His<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>261</span> -business is—it is—— Chester, what is your business?”</p> - -<p>“Mining, mother.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. Isn’t it strange I can’t remember such -things? My daughter is here with me. Have you -ever met my daughter, Mr. Merriwell?”</p> - -<p>Had he ever met June Arlington! It seemed impossible -that her mind could be blank to all recollection of -the past, in which she had so intensely opposed the -friendship between June and Dick.</p> - -<p>“I have met her, Mrs. Arlington.”</p> - -<p>“You seem to have forgotten, mother,” said Chester, -“that June and Dick are quite well acquainted. -They met for the first time several years ago at Fardale.”</p> - -<p>“Fardale—that’s the place where you attended -school, I think you told me. It was your father’s -choice to send you there, was it not? Seems to me I -opposed it; and that, I presume, was the reason why -I never cared to visit you at Fardale.”</p> - -<p>She had spent months at Fardale!</p> - -<p>Unobserved by Mrs. Arlington, Chester and Dick -exchanged glances. Although Chet was smiling, Dick -knew that deep down in his heart there was hidden a -great sorrow for the affliction of his mother.</p> - -<p>“My daughter is a very charming young lady,” Mrs. -Arlington continued. “In a way, I am quite as proud -of her as I am of my fine, manly boy. Few mothers -are blessed with such children.”</p> - -<p>“Few indeed,” agreed Dick, accepting the chair -which Chester had placed beside that of Mrs. Arlington. -“I quite agree with you, madam.”</p> - -<p>“You see, mother,” laughed Chester, “Merriwell is -something of a flatterer.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>262</span> -“I am sure it is not flattery. I see nothing but sincerity -in his face and eyes. Is he interested in your -business affairs, my son?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, indeed. He is still a student at college. -He’s the pride of old Yale, the college I would have -attended had circumstances permitted.”</p> - -<p>A slight frown of perplexity settled upon her forehead.</p> - -<p>“I can’t understand how circumstances could have -prevented you from attending any school you wished -to attend, my son. Am I not right in thinking that -your father was in a situation to give you the advantage -of a course at any college in the country?”</p> - -<p>He evaded the question.</p> - -<p>“At the time when I was contemplating entering -Yale,” he said, “I saw a business opportunity that fascinated -me.”</p> - -<p>“I shall never cease to regret that you chose to let -business interfere with your education, Chester. You -might have attended college, and been assured that -your father would have set you up in any business or -profession you chose to follow.”</p> - -<p>There was not the slightest recollection of the fact -that appalling reverses had stripped D. Roscoe Arlington -of wealth and power and made it necessary for him -to husband the few resources left him, in order to provide -for himself and his wife in their old age.</p> - -<p>More than once Chester had wondered at the -strength of the man who, in face of such calamities, -had found it possible to hold up his head and resist -the temptation to put a bullet through his brain. It -is almost invariably the brave man who survives crushing -adversity; it is the coward who commits suicide.</p> - -<p>“Father was not very well, you know,” Chester went -on. “Besides, it is often the worthless chap who depends -upon his pater to start him out in life.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>263</span> -“You are very independent, my son. I presume it’s -a spirit to be proud of. I can’t quite understand why -your father didn’t come out here with us.”</p> - -<p>“He didn’t wish to take the long railroad journey, -mother. We’re going back in a few days. A letter -from the physician tells me that father is not at all -well.”</p> - -<p>“Then we should return at once. If he is ill, my -place is at his side. You must stay with us, Chester.”</p> - -<p>“I am going back with you, but I can’t stay there -long unless it is absolutely necessary. A man of business,” -he added, “makes a serious blunder when he -neglects his affairs. In these hustling times, a fellow -has to keep on the jump to gather in the shekels.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, but there’s something better than mere money. -Whoever gives himself wholly to the accumulation -of wealth loses half his life.”</p> - -<p>The change in her was marvelous, for once her only -thought had seemed to be of wealth and power and -social prestige. A country girl, risen from the humblest -station in life, she had slavishly worshiped false -gods. After all, was it not a blessing of kind Providence -that the page of the past had been turned down -and sealed for her? There was no recollection of the -years she had spent in a private sanitarium, separated -from husband and children—and that was well.</p> - -<p>They sat there talking for some time. Other guests -of the hotel came forth in summer garments and scattered -themselves in chairs along the veranda to get the -cool breath which now came creeping down from the -snow-capped Rockies. Parties of sight seers were returning -from Manitou, the Garden, the Cañon, -Monument Park, and other near-by places of interest. -Nearly all the guests of that big hotel were tourists -from the East.</p> - -<p>Presently a large touring car containing four young<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>264</span> -men rolled up to the steps and stopped. Brad Buckhart -was at the wheel. His companions were Tucker, -Bigelow, and Gregory McGregor.</p> - -<p>At sight of them Dick rose and excused himself, bidding -Mrs. Arlington adieu.</p> - -<p>Chester proposed to take his mother to her room, -but she declined, saying that she preferred to sit there -a while longer.</p> - -<p>“Go with your friend, my boy,” she urged. “I am -all right. Don’t worry about me. Such a friend as -that young man is worth cleaving to.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve sized him up right at last, mother.”</p> - -<p>“At last?” she breathed. “Why, I’ve never had the -opportunity before. I could only judge of him from -what you told me about him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, of course—certainly,” said Chester hastily. -“I’ll return directly, mother.”</p> - -<p>Buckhart had turned the car over to a man from the -garage, who took it away.</p> - -<p>Tucker threw himself into a chair on the veranda.</p> - -<p>“There,” he said, “we’ve done up this old town -brown. We’ve taken a peek from the top of Pike’s -Peak, we’ve gaped at the wonders in the Garden of the -Gods, we’ve seen a man or two down at Manitou—likewise -two or three girls. There isn’t anything more -to be done, and I’m ready to weep. Bigelow, lend me -your handkerchief.”</p> - -<p>“Not on your life,” said Bouncer. “I’m sick of paying -laundry bills for you. I’ve been lending you handkerchiefs -and socks and pajamas until the laundry man -has got the most of my wealth.”</p> - -<p>“Now, wouldn’t I look well rattling around in a suit -of your pajamas!” scoffed Tommy. “Big, you’re a -heartless, unfeeling creature, and I repudiate you as a -friend. In order to get up some excitement to kill the -monotony, I’ll have to kill you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>265</span> -“There’s a little excitement in the air,” said Dick. -Then he told them of the arrangements for the baseball -game.</p> - -<p>“Wow! wow!” barked Tucker delightedly. “You’ve -saved my life, Richard. You’ve preserved me from a -possibly fatal attack of ennui. Will we play the Outlaws? -Oh, say, watch us!”</p> - -<p>“But can you get together a team, pard?” asked -Buckhart.</p> - -<p>“I’ve figured it all out. We will have nine men, including -Bigelow.”</p> - -<p>“What?” cried Tommy, jumping up. “Are you going -to let Big play? That settles it. It’s all off as far -as I’m concerned.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“I quit. I throw up both hands. Bigelow play -baseball! Say, Dick, you’re a subject for the dotty -house.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, come now,” protested the fat fellow. “I don’t -pretend to be a crack at baseball, but if you’ve got to -have me, I’ll do my best. One thing I’m proud of, I -never was dropped from the Yale varsity.”</p> - -<p>“A stab at me,” snapped Tucker; “a most unkind -thrust. But, look here, it’s a well-known fact that I -got too fast for the varsity.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” agreed Bouncer, “you got too fast all -right. You certainly hit a fast pace, and it’s a wonder -you didn’t get too fast for the college. All your -friends expected you would be invited to chase yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” said Dick, “if we can find a crackajack -ninth man, Big will be willing to sit on the bench and -look handsome. You see, we’ll give the impression -that he’s a marvelous pinch hitter, and his size ought -to awe the Outlaws.”</p> - -<p>“I’m a martyr,” said Bigelow. “For the sake of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>266</span> -any good cause I am ready to be benched. In fact, I’d -really enjoy playing the game on the bench, for then -I wouldn’t have to exert myself and get all damp with -perspiration and rumple my beautiful hair and scatter -a lot of cuticule around the diamond sliding to bases. -I love baseball, but oh, you cuticule!”</p> - -<p>“You’re sure a generous, self-sacrificing soul, -Bouncer,” grinned Buckhart.</p> - -<p>Dick told of his encounter with Buzzsaw Stover.</p> - -<p>“I opine,” observed Brad, “that Mr. Stover thought -something worse than a buzz saw had struck him.”</p> - -<p>As they were chatting in this manner two horsemen -came riding along the street. One of them, the -younger, was dressed in corduroy and woollens. He -sat his horse beautifully. The other, however, was -the most picturesque figure of the two: for both were -Indians, and the older man, bent and bowed, wore, -despite the warmth of the unclouded sun, a dirty old -red blanket draped about his shoulders.</p> - -<p>Tucker saw them first, and, uttering a yell, he -grabbed Dick’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Look,” he cried, pointing; “look there, Richard! -What do you see?”</p> - -<p>“So help me marvels,” exclaimed Dick, astounded, -“it’s old Joe Crowfoot and young Joe!”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>267</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxiv">CHAPTER XXIV.<br /> -<span>TWO INDIAN FRIENDS.</span></h2> - - -<p>True enough, the newcomers were Dick’s childhood -friend Shangowah, and his grandson, young Joe -Crowfoot, Dick’s college friend. The young Indian’s -keen eyes had discovered Dick already, and there was -a smiling look of joyous astonishment on his handsome -bronzed face. Both redskins reined toward the -hotel steps as the group of young men came charging -down from the veranda.</p> - -<p>Then the guests lounging on that veranda beheld a -singular spectacle. They saw the young Indian leap -from his horse and shake hands with one after another -of those delighted youthful palefaces. They saw the -old Indian let himself down slowly and painfully from -the saddle to stand half bent and seemingly tottering, -with arms extended, to give Dick Merriwell an affectionate -embrace. This was a sight that caused many -of the wondering ladies, and not a few spick and span -gentlemen, to gasp and turn up their noses.</p> - -<p>“Of all surprising things,” young Joe was saying, -“this is the greatest. Merriwell, Buckhart, Tucker, -Bigelow—here in Colorado Springs!”</p> - -<p>“Right here, chief,” chirped Tommy, “and ready -at sight of your beaming, dusky mug to execute a war -dance, a ghost dance, a waltz, or an Irish jig of joy. -Tell us, how doth it happen thou art gallivanting -around these parts?”</p> - -<p>“Shangowah, my grandfather, sent a message requesting -me to meet him here,” explained the youthful -redskin.</p> - -<p>Old Joe having released Dick, nodded his head -slowly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>268</span> -“The long trail,” he said, “has led Shangowah’s feet -near to the place where he must lie down for the big -sleep that has no end. Shangowah him mighty near -polished off, finished up, cooked, done for. He think -he like once more to put him blinkers on Wind-that-roars-in-the-night, -his grandson; so he get white man -to write talking letter that say for young Joe to come.”</p> - -<p>“Now, Crowfoot,” protested Dick, “I’ve heard you -sing this same song before, but I notice that you invariably -come out of these spells with colors flying.”</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, in his heart Merriwell was pained to -note positive signs of declining strength and vitality -in the old redskin.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe sometime old Joe he make bluff ’bout it,” -confessed Shangowah; “but no can keep up bluff always. -Bimeby, pretty soon, time come when bluff is -real thing, and old man he have to croak. He no -think when he get paleface friend to write talking -letter that mebbe he meet you, too, Injun Heart. He -much happy.”</p> - -<p>“Come up onto the veranda out of this sun,” urged -Dick. “There are some chairs yonder, and you can -rest while we talk a little.”</p> - -<p>“Sun him feel good to old Crowfoot,” mumbled -the bowed and aged chief. “Blood get thin in old -man’s body; sun he warm it up some. All same, Crowfoot -like little powwow with Injun Heart and friends.”</p> - -<p>Pride would not permit him to allow Dick to assist -him up the steps. With an effort he mounted them in -a certain slow and dignified manner.</p> - -<p>Surprised and not at all pleased, some of the guests -upon the veranda stared at the aged redskin and the -presuming young fellows who had brought him thither. -The two saddled horses had been turned over to the -care of a boy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>269</span> -McGregor placed the easiest chair for old Crowfoot, -but the chief declined to take it.</p> - -<p>“No like-um chair,” he said, as he slowly let himself -down to a sitting posture upon the floor of the -veranda, placing his back against the hotel wall. -“When Shangowah get so he can’t sit this fashion, he -stand up till he flop over for good. He take little -smoke now.”</p> - -<p>The old rank, black pipe was produced, <a name="crumbed" id="crumbed"></a><ins title="Original has 'crummed'">crumbed</ins> -tobacco jammed into the bowl with a soiled thumb, -and Crowfoot lighted up. As the breeze carried the -tobacco smoke from his lips toward some of the -near-by guests they turned up their noses still further -and moved away, making some low, uncomplimentary -remarks.</p> - -<p>“Dear me!” chuckled Tommy Tucker. “The dukes -and duchesses seem disturbed by the fragrant aroma -of the chief’s calumet.”</p> - -<p>“Never mind them,” said Dick. “Let’s mind our -own business and pay no attention to people whose -delicate sensibilities are so easily disturbed. Tell me, -Shangowah, how has the world been using you?”</p> - -<p>“Ugh!” grunted Crowfoot, pulling slowly at the -pipe. “Same old way. Knock-um Injun ’round like -young palefaces kick football. Sometime old Joe -he be up; sometime he be down in mud. No can -seem to settle nowhere. Injun have no home now. -Palefaces take it all; pretty soon, bimeby, he own the -earth.”</p> - -<p>“That’s practically his now,” grinned Tucker, “and -with flying machines he’s preparing to set forth for -the conquering of other worlds.”</p> - -<p>“I was doing well guiding this summer,” said -young Joe, “when I received my grandfather’s letter -asking me to meet him here. I need all the money -I can earn to help me through college, but——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>270</span> -“Shangowah he have little dough in his kick,” interrupted -the old man. “He have ’nough to pay bills -for his grandson one whole year at white man’s big -school. He no take chances to send it by mails; he -want to hand it over himself, so he send for young -Joe.”</p> - -<p>“You must have made a lucky strike of some sort, -chief,” said Dick.</p> - -<p>“Oh, old Joe he manage to scrape along. He play -little poke’ now and then. He get together some mon’ -’bout time big fight come off in Reno. Never see big -fight like that, so he think he take it in. He go to -Reno. Ugh! Everybody there. Town plumb full, -swelled up, run over; but old Joe he got ’long—he -sleep anywhere, he eat anyhow.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what do you think of the old sport,” cried -Tucker delightedly, “taking in a big prize fight? Did -you see it, Crowfoot?”</p> - -<p>The aged Indian gave the little chap a look of pained -reproof.</p> - -<p>“You bet-um your boots,” he grunted. “Old Joe he -buy ring-side seat. He meet up with heap much fight -men before scrap come off. He look-um John Jack -over; he look-um Jim Jeff over. He like-um Jim -Jeff, but when he hear how Jim go by, when he see -John Jack in prime, he think mebbe Jim no come back -good enough to whip Jack. He have little talk with -Jim Cob, too. He hold small powwow with John -Sul.”</p> - -<p>“Waugh!” laughed Buckhart. “You certainly got -in with high society at Reno.”</p> - -<p>“Jim Cob,” continued Crowfoot, “he tell old Joe, -Jim Jeff sure to win. Him fine feller that Jim Cob, -but he make big mistake. Old Joe he listen heap much, -say nothing, think all the time. When he see big -odds on Jim Jeff he think mebbe it is good chance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>271</span> -to make fancy clean-up, so he bet last dollar on John -Jack. He win fourteen hundred plunk, United States -cash, clean dough.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what do you know about that!” gasped Gregory -McGregor, in profound admiration. “But what -would you have done if you had lost every cent you -had in the world, chief?”</p> - -<p>Old Crowfoot looked at him wisely.</p> - -<p>“If so,” he replied, “it not be first time Shangowah -get skinned to him teeth. He take chance more than -once. He go busted more than once. He always find -some way to get on feet again.”</p> - -<p>“You blessed old soldier of fortune!” chuckled -Tucker. “How I admire you! If I was not fearful -you would rise up and take my scalp, I would slap you -familiarly on the back.”</p> - -<p>“Back ’gainst wall,” reminded old Joe, sucking at -the gurgling pipe. “Rheumatiz in back. Anybody -slap-um Shangowah on back, he get in heap much -trouble.”</p> - -<p>“We’re stopping at a small hotel called the Sunset -House,” said young Joe. “I knew some of the big -hotels might object—or the guests might—if my -grandfather should seek accommodations in them.”</p> - -<p>“The Sunset House?” said Dick. “Why, that’s -where Harrison’s ball team is putting up.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” nodded young Joe, “they’re there. To-morrow -they play with the Springs’ nine, and my grandfather -wishes to see the game.”</p> - -<p>“They will not play with the Springs’ nine to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Why not? That’s what brought them here.”</p> - -<p>“But that game has been called off.”</p> - -<p>“Too bad,” mumbled old Crowfoot. “Joe he get -so he like-um baseball heap much. He like-um to see -one more game.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>272</span> -“Well, you’ll have the chance,” smiled Dick, “for to-morrow -Harrison’s Outlaws will play a team picked -up by yours truly, Richard Merriwell, and your grandson -is going to be in that game as a member of my -nine.”</p> - -<p>A light of joy leaped into the old redskin’s beady -black eyes.</p> - -<p>“The Great Spirit is good!” he said. “Shangowah -he like to see young Joe and Injun Heart play again, -but he no expect to have the chance.”</p> - -<p>After a time the two Indians departed, young Joe -having delightedly agreed to take part in the baseball -game.</p> - -<p>Even as the redskins were departing a tall, lank, insipid-looking -young man in flannels detached himself -from a group of guests and approached Merriwell’s -party.</p> - -<p>“I—I say, m’friends,” he drawled, “don’t you really -think it’s rawther <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">outré</i>—rawther bad taste, you understand? -You should realize that there are ladies -and gentlemen here. You should understand that -bringing such offensive persons onto this veranda is -deucedly distasteful.”</p> - -<p>Dick smilingly faced the fellow and took his measure.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think,” he said, “I’ve ever been introduced -to you.”</p> - -<p>“Quite unnecessary—quite. My name is Archie -Ling.”</p> - -<p>“Ting-a-ling-ling,” chirped Tommy.</p> - -<p>Mr. Ling gave the little chap a look intended to be -crushing.</p> - -<p>“I’m addressing this young man here,” he said -haughtily. “I’m remonstrating against bringing common, -dirty, foul-smelling creatures like those Indians -onto the veranda of this hotel, and I hope my remonstrance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>273</span> -will be heeded. If it occurs again, the guests -will feel it their duty to protest to the management.”</p> - -<p>“They may file their protests as soon as they please,” -said Dick quietly. “Those Indians are friends of -mine.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, really, you ought to be ashamed to make such -an acknowledgement. If circumstances of any sort -made it necessary for me to know such characters, I’d -certainly do my best to hide the fact from the general -public. I’d never acknowledge that I was friendly -with an Indian, never.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry,” returned Dick; “you would never -have the chance, for I don’t know an Indian who would -care to be friendly with you. Look here, Mr. Ling, -you’re poking your nose into a crack where it’s liable -to get pinched.”</p> - -<p>“Or twisted,” growled Buckhart. “Back up, Ling. -Chase yourself, before somebody is tempted to put -their paws on you and toss you over the rail.”</p> - -<p>“Such insolence!” sniffed Ling. “I don’t understand -how such cheap, common people ever could find -<a name="accommodations" id="accommodations"></a><ins title="Original has 'acommodations'">accommodations</ins> here.”</p> - -<p>“Judging by appearances, your understanding is -very limited,” said Merriwell. “Really, I think it is -dangerous for you to strain your meagre intellect to -understand things beyond your narrow scope.”</p> - -<p>“Now, say, that’s insulting—actually insulting! I -shall hold myself in restraint, however. In behalf of -the ladies and gentlemen who were offended, I protest -again against a repetition of your recent behavior.”</p> - -<p>“Go away and play with your dolls,” begged Tucker. -“If you annoy people, somebody will give you a -spanking.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Ling gasped and choked.</p> - -<p>“How dare you talk to me like that, you little——”</p> - -<p>Tommy was on his toes in a twinkling.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>274</span> -“Cut it out, Ting-a-ling-ling,” he interrupted, “or -I’ll hand you the spanking myself, and I’ll guarantee -that I can do the job to the queen’s taste.”</p> - -<p>“Sic him, Tommy,” gurgled Bigelow delightedly. -“For once in my life I’ll bet on you.”</p> - -<p>But the lanky young man backed away.</p> - -<p>“It’s evident,” he spluttered, “that you’re a set of -young ruffians. I shall inform the management what -I think of you.”</p> - -<p>“If you try to think too hard you may get a pain -in that upper story vacuum of yours.”</p> - -<p>Ling retired, still muttering, and reported to the -watching guests, some of whom seemed amused, while -others betrayed sympathetic indignation. Neither -Dick nor his friends, however, gave any one of them -further attention.</p> - -<p>“I’ll have to get suits for the bunch,” said Merriwell. -“Brad, Tommy, and I have ours, which we -brought along with us on the tour. I’ll find Loring -and see if he can fit the rest of the crowd out with -uniforms.”</p> - -<p>In this he was successful, and ere the dinner hour -he had procured uniforms enough for ten men, one of -which, according to Loring’s statement, was fully -large enough for Bouncer Bigelow. He likewise -learned that Loring had set about advertising the game -in a manner which promised to leave no one at the -Springs uninformed concerning it.</p> - -<p>An hour after dinner, Dick found Chester and June -Arlington chatting on the veranda. Mrs. Arlington -had retired to her room.</p> - -<p>“Just in time to entertain sis, old fellow,” laughed -Chet. “I have a little business that I should look after. -Make yourselves sociable.”</p> - -<p>He left them together, whistling on his way down -the street.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>275</span> -For a time they spoke somewhat constrainedly of -commonplace things. Finally June put out a hand and -touched Dick’s sleeve lightly.</p> - -<p>“Dick,” she murmured, “I have something that I -want to say. I want to tell you just what’s in my -heart, but I can’t. Perhaps you understand how happy -I am. Perhaps you know that I appreciate all you -have done for my brother.”</p> - -<p>“I never did much for Chester, June. It was impossible; -he wouldn’t let me.”</p> - -<p>“You did everything for him. He knows it, and -he has spoken of it many times. It was you who made -him what he is.”</p> - -<p>“Hardly that, June. If there had not been the making -of a man in him, I could have done nothing. -Really, I did nothing but——”</p> - -<p>“Many a time you had it in your power to punish -him as he justly deserved, and yet you held your -hand.”</p> - -<p>“For your sake, June, not his,” whispered Dick as -his fingers found hers in the soft darkness.</p> - -<p>Again it was impossible for her to find the words -she sought, and their hands clung together.</p> - -<p>“It’s so strange,” she said, in a low tone; “so strange -that my mother should speak of you with such deep -friendliness. She told me about meeting you this -afternoon. She told me how glad she was that <a name="Chester" id="Chester"></a><ins title="Original has 'Chested'">Chester</ins> -had such a staunch and worthy friend. She’s wonderfully -changed, Dick.”</p> - -<p>“She is indeed.”</p> - -<p>“The doctors have given some encouragement that -her memory might be restored, but I almost think it -is better as it is. The recollection of the past would -be bitter to her now.”</p> - -<p>“To all of us the past holds both sweet and bitter -memories.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>276</span> -“I’m very glad fortune brought us together here at -the Springs, if only for a few days. We must take -mother back home soon, for father is ill and lonely. -Poor father! In his heart he always admired you, -Dick.”</p> - -<p>Thus drawn into reminiscences and memories of the -past, they chatted until Chester finally returned.</p> - -<p>Five minutes after the reappearance of Arlington, -a tall, quick-stepping young man ascended from the -street, and by the light over the entrance of the hotel -Dick recognized young Joe Crowfoot.</p> - -<p>Joe turned and came forward quickly at Merriwell’s -call.</p> - -<p>“Looking for you, Dick,” he said. “You can handle -my grandfather better than I. He will listen to -you when he won’t hear a word from me. Unfortunately, -he’s started to celebrate the pleasure of our -meeting here. You know what that means. He’s -found liquor. I’ve locked him in a room at the Sunset, -but I can’t get the whisky away from him. I wish -you would come over with me and see what you can -do.”</p> - -<p>“I will,” said Dick. “I’ll come, Joe.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>277</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxv">CHAPTER XXV.<br /> -<span>THE MAN IN THE NEXT ROOM.</span></h2> - - -<p>Gentle Willie Touch, of the Outlaws, was an inveterate -poker player. He was likewise a constant loser, -but the more he lost the keener became his desire to -play; and so whenever he was paid his salary or could -borrow money to get into a game, he might be found -trying to “hatch up something.”</p> - -<p>At the Sunset House, as the members of Harrison’s -ball team lounged around after dinner, Willie sought -to inveigle some of his comrades into tempting fortune -with the pasteboards.</p> - -<p>“Oh, come on, you sick kittens,” he pleaded softly. -“Come ahead up to my room and rob me. I’ve got -twenty bucks all in hard money that’s too heavy for -me to carry around. The weight of so much silver -is a severe strain upon my delicate strength, and some -one will be doing me a favor by taking it away from -me.”</p> - -<p>“Get out!” growled Grouch Kennedy. “I’m -ashamed to play with you, you’re such a thundering -mark. Every time I get into a game and you go broke -I want to hand you back anything I’ve won, and that -causes me intense pain; for I can’t seem to give up -money without distress. I’ve sworn off, Willie boy; -I’ll play with you no more.”</p> - -<p>“Cruel old Groucher!” sighed Touch. “Now you -know you’re welcome to my dough when you win it -honestly.”</p> - -<p>“Talk about honesty in a poker game!” sneered Kennedy. -“Who ever heard of such a thing?”</p> - -<p>“You know there’s supposed to be honesty even -among thieves.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>278</span> -“‘Supposed to be’ is good! You’ll have to find -somebody else, Willie. Your twenty doesn’t tempt me. -I’m sore because these locals got cold feet, and I’d be -poor company, anyhow. I might growl.”</p> - -<p>“Goodness!” said Willie. “If you didn’t, everybody -would think you sick. You’re always sore about -something, you old groucher. Tell you what I think, -I have a notion that you’re afraid of me. You’re not -willing to give me a chance to get even. That’s a mean -disposition.”</p> - -<p>But he could not taunt Kennedy into playing. -Nevertheless, in time he found three men who were -willing to sit into a game for a while—Buzzsaw Stover, -Warwhoop Clinker, and South-paw Pope. They followed -him up to his room, where the quartette peeled -off their coats, rolled up their sleeves, and seated themselves -around a table upon which Willie tossed a well-thumbed -pack of cards.</p> - -<p>“Too bad we couldn’t find one more man,” said -Touch. “Five players make a better game than four. -Shall we use chips?”</p> - -<p>“Nix,” said Warwhoop. “Let’s play with real -money, and then there won’t be any disagreement and -chewing the rag over settling up. Every time chips -are used the banker finds himself short. Cold cash is -better, and out in this country there’s always plenty of -coin floating around. I’ve got a pocket full of chicken -feed.”</p> - -<p>“Haven’t you better cards than these, Willie?” -asked South-paw, looking the pack over disdainfully.</p> - -<p>“Dunno,” was the answer. “Mebbe I have in my -clothes somewhere. I’ll see.”</p> - -<p>Touch opened the door of a closet at the back of -the room and went through a suit of clothes hanging -inside that closet.</p> - -<p>“Nothing doing,” he called. “Those are all the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>279</span> -cards I have. Perhaps I’d better go out and get a -new pack.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, forget it!” rasped Buzzsaw. “These’ll do. -Come on, let’s get down to business.”</p> - -<p>Seated at the table, they produced fists full of silver -and gold money and cut the cards for the first deal.</p> - -<p>“Dollar limit?” inquired Warwhoop.</p> - -<p>“Let’s make it a little lighter,” urged Touch. “With -that limit my twenty wouldn’t last long if luck ran -against me as usual. Luck—Grouch says you’re all -thieves. He doesn’t believe there’s such a thing as -honesty among poker players.”</p> - -<p>“Grouch judges everybody by himself,” said Stover, -who had cut “low” and was shuffling the cards. “Still, -I’m willing to call it a half, with a dime limit; there -seems to be plenty of dimes. Cut, Clinker. Your -ante, South-paw.”</p> - -<p>Touch piled up his silver dollars in front of him, -kissing them, one after another.</p> - -<p>“Good-by, boys,” he murmured. “I know we must -part. You’ll soon be scattered among my good friends, -these thieves. I love money, but, oh, you little game -of draw!”</p> - -<p>“Hark!” rasped Buzzsaw. “What’s that?”</p> - -<p>To a sad and doleful tune some one in the adjoining -room was singing:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line indent0">“We from childhood played together,</div> - <div class="line indent2">Heap fine comrade, Jack and I;</div> - <div class="line indent0">We would fight each other’s battles,</div> - <div class="line indent2">To each other’s aid we’d fly.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“Oh, cut it out!” roared Buzzsaw. “Go file your -voice.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the tune the old cat died on,” cried South-paw.</p> - -<p>“Something awful!” growled Warwhoop. “It -would drive a man to murder.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>280</span> -“These partitions are very thin,” said Gentle Willie. -“I don’t think much of the old man bunking us -in this place, when he might have put us up at the Antlers, -the Alamo, or the Alta Vista.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, what do you want, anyhow?” cried Warwhoop. -“Do you want to be a howling swell? If he had put -us up at any one of those places it would have cost him -two or three times as much as it does here. Here the -feed is good, the bed is fair, and I’m not kicking for -some of the places we’ve bunked in. Let’s play -poker.”</p> - -<p>As the game got under way they were still further -disturbed by a doleful, wailing chant which floated -in from the adjoining room. Listening in spite of -themselves, they heard something like this:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line indent0">“No booka lo go dana,</div> - <div class="line indent0">No booka lo go dana,</div> - <div class="line indent0">No booka lo go dana—</div> - <div class="line indent0">Happy he away yah!”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“What the blazes is it,” snarled Buzzsaw; “Chinese, -Hottentot, or——”</p> - -<p>“Injun,” said South-paw. “If that ain’t an Injun -dirge I’ll eat my hat.”</p> - -<p>“Sure it is,” agreed Warwhoop. “They’ve put a -couple of Injuns into that room, a crazy old brave -and a tall young buck.”</p> - -<p>“They seem to be celebrating,” laughed Gentle Willie. -“I should say they had been indulging in fire -water.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t talk of it,” entreated Warwhoop. “You -make me thirsty, and I have to be careful to let the -booze alone while the baseball season is in swing.”</p> - -<p>Clinker’s besetting weakness was his taste for liquor. -Started on a toot by a single drink, he invariably went -the limit, which meant a protracted spree from which -he always recovered in a shaky condition.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>281</span> -The doleful singing continuing, they yelled threats -at the singer and threw things against the partition. -The result was a sudden burst of fierce and startling -whoops and yells, followed by a return thumping on -that same partition.</p> - -<p>“Wow!” gasped Warwhoop, his eyes bulging. “I -think mebbe we’d better let that party alone. He may -break through and attempt to scalp us if we continue -to irritate him.”</p> - -<p>“Close the door to the closet, Willie,” directed -South-paw. “That’s what makes us hear it so plain.”</p> - -<p>“I guess you’re right,” said Touch, as he rose and -peered into the closet. “The old partition is only -boarded up part way. There’s an opening two feet -wide at the top.”</p> - -<p>Closing the door, he returned to his seat and the -game continued. To the delight of Touch, luck favored -him from the first, and it was not long before -his twenty became forty.</p> - -<p>“I know my hoodoo now,” he laughed; “it’s old -Groucher. I always lose with him in the game. We -wanted a fifth man to play.”</p> - -<p>The door of the closet swung open, and old Joe -Crowfoot stepped softly into the room.</p> - -<p>“You like-um ’nother man to play?” he asked -eagerly. “Shangowah, he play poke’ sometime. He -sit in now. He take little hand.”</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>282</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxvi">CHAPTER XXVI.<br /> -<span>WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK.</span></h2> - - -<p>They started up in astonishment.</p> - -<p>“Mercy!” murmured Gentle Willie.</p> - -<p>“Great Scott!” gasped South-paw.</p> - -<p>“Thunder!” rasped Buzzsaw.</p> - -<p>“Wow!” barked Clinker.</p> - -<p>“Whoop!” cried old Joe Crowfoot.</p> - -<p>“How in blazes did he get into this room?” snarled -Stover.</p> - -<p>“Heap easy,” declared the aged Indian sweetly. -“Nice big hole in top of little room. Old Joe climb -up on shelves, wiggle through hole, come right in. -How, how. Much glad. You got ’nother seat, he -take-um hand in little game.”</p> - -<p>“The nerve of it!” exploded Warwhoop.</p> - -<p>“Kick him out!” roared Clinker. “Open the door, -Willie. We’ll drop him out on his neck.”</p> - -<p>But when Clinker and Stover took a step toward -the old Indian, the latter silently produced a long, -wicked-looking knife.</p> - -<p>“Try to kick-um old Joe, he make nice mince meat -of you,” said Crowfoot.</p> - -<p>They stopped.</p> - -<p>“The old buck is drunk,” said South-paw.</p> - -<p>Shangowah’s beady eyes twinkled.</p> - -<p>“Come to meet grandson, young Joe,” he said, in -an explanatory manner. “Meet other friends. Heap -glad. Celebrate some. Old Joe so old he no have -time to celebrate much more, so he whoop it up now. -’Scuse-um me.”</p> - -<p>The knife disappeared, and its place in Crowfoot’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>283</span> -hand was taken by a large, flat bottle containing a -brownish amber liquor. Removing the cork, the redskin -tipped the bottle and permitted two or three swallows -to slide gurglingly down his throat.</p> - -<p>“Oh, murder!” muttered <a name="Warwhoop" id="Warwhoop"></a><ins title="Original has 'Warwoop'">Warwhoop</ins>. “It’s -whisky. I smell it.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe you have little drink?” invited Crowfoot -cordially, as he extended the bottle.</p> - -<p>But Stover seized Clinker by the shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you touch the stuff, Warwhoop,” he warned. -“You know what it will do to you. We’ve got to play -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Got to play a bunch of college kids,” said Clinker. -“We could beat them if every man on the team was -jagged.”</p> - -<p>“You no take little drink?” asked Crowfoot. “Then -old Joe he have to drink-um it all. Grandson, Wind-that-roars-in-the-night, -he think old Joe jigged up -now. He lock old Joe in room so he get no more joy -juice. Waugh! Shangowah have bottle hid under -blanket. Grandson no know it.”</p> - -<p>“He’s a sly old duck,” grinned Gentle Willie. -“Really he’s a most amusing specimen.”</p> - -<p>“But he’s interfering with the game,” complained -Clinker.</p> - -<p>“No interfere,” said Crowfoot. “Play some—take -hand.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t know anything about draw poker,” -said South-paw.</p> - -<p>“Not much,” agreed the Indian. “Mebbe play little -bit.”</p> - -<p>“Why, you haven’t got any money,” sneered Buzzsaw.</p> - -<p>“Guess some more,” invited the ancient chief, as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>284</span> -he promptly dug up a fistful of clinking coins. “Got -heap much cash. Make heap good haul on prize fight -in Reno.”</p> - -<p>Gentle Willie laughed aloud.</p> - -<p>“Well, now, what do you know about that! Here’s -an Injun loaded down with real money.”</p> - -<p>The deportment of the four Outlaws underwent a -sudden change.</p> - -<p>“Really,” said Buzzsaw, “he looks like a nice, decent -old brave. Perhaps we’d better let him into the game.”</p> - -<p>The others agreed to this, and, a chair being placed, -old Joe advanced unsteadily and seated himself between -Stover and Pope.</p> - -<p>“The limit is fifty cents, chief,” explained South-paw.</p> - -<p>“Let’s make it a dollar,” urged Gentle Willie, success -having given him confidence. “What do you say, -Mr. Lo?”</p> - -<p>“Make-um it anything,” grunted old Joe. “No -limit suit me.”</p> - -<p>“Well, he is a sport!” chuckled Clinker. “Tell you -what, we’ll call it a dollar limit and all Jack pots. Understand -that, Tecumseh?”</p> - -<p>“Lemme see. Mebbe so,” answered old Joe. “You -make little explanation.”</p> - -<p>“It will be like taking candy from the baby,” whispered -Clinker in Gentle Willie’s ear; while Buzzsaw -explained to the Indian, who listened in a dull, half-comprehending -way.</p> - -<p>But when the game was resumed old Joe seemed -to catch onto the run of it in a manner which surprised -the others.</p> - -<p>“No play much,” said the redskin. “Most forget -how.”</p> - -<p>He was permitted to win one or two small pots, -which seemed so to elate him that he took another<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>285</span> -long pull at the bottle. His tongue grew thick and -his eyes seemed to be glazy. At intervals he insisted -on singing, and always the tune was a doleful dirge.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"> - <div class="line indent0">“I’ve traveled about heap much in my time,</div> - <div class="line indent2">Of troubles I’ve sure seen a few;</div> - <div class="line indent0">I find it heap better in every clime</div> - <div class="line indent2">To paddle my own canoe.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“You’re certainly a musical cuss,” said Clinker; -“but music and draw poker don’t go well together. -Cut it out.”</p> - -<p>“My cut?” grunted old Joe, reaching for the cards. -“You no like-um music, hey? Shangowah he no sing -much; he too old. He got rheumatiz in his voice. -What you do ’round here?”</p> - -<p>“We came here to play baseball,” explained Gentle -Willie. “Know what that is?”</p> - -<p>Crowfoot scratched his head.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe so,” he mumbled. “Old Joe see game once. -See men throw balls like bullet at ’nother man. -’Nother man hit it with big stick. Then everybody -run, crowd yell, one who hit ball make quick foot race -round in circle back to place where he start. There he -scoot-um head first on ground. Somebody throw ball -to feller who grab it and hit-um man on ground -’tween shoulders. Everybody yell: ‘Kill umpire.’ -Old Joe he get out knife and start to do it. Next -thing everybody jump on old Joe, kick him stiff. -What make-um holler ‘kill umpire’ if no want him -killed?”</p> - -<p>“Haw! haw! haw!” roared Buzzsaw. “You certainly -was going to be obliging.”</p> - -<p>“No understand it,” sighed Crowfoot sadly. “Take-um -knife from old Joe, kick-um him, put-um bracelets -on him, yank him to lockup. Next day judge fine-um -him twenty-five dol’ and costs—say ’cause he break<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"></a>286</span> -peace. He no break anything. He all broke up himself.”</p> - -<p>“Well, just come out to the game to-morrow,” -urged Stover, “and you’ll see us eat a lot of kids up.”</p> - -<p>“Eat um—eat um kids?”</p> - -<p>“I mean the fellers on the opposite team.”</p> - -<p>“You eat um?” repeated Crowfoot in a puzzled -way. “You like-um baseball players to eat?”</p> - -<p>“He’s speaking figuratively, Powhatan,” exclaimed -Gentle Willie. “He means that we’ll beat the everlasting -stuffing out of them. We can beat anything -that plays the game, and a chesty, conceited youngster -by the name of Dick Merriwell had the nerve to challenge -us to play. What do you think of that!”</p> - -<p>“Heap much nerve,” nodded Crowfoot, swaying -slightly on his chair. “Old Joe come. He have great -fun to watch you beat-um young fool Merriwell. -Mebbe you no beat.”</p> - -<p>“It will be a cinch,” said South-paw. “I’m going to -pitch.”</p> - -<p>“You no got swelled head nor anything?” mumbled -Crowfoot.</p> - -<p>“Keep your eye on me,” advised Buzzsaw. “I’ve -got it in for that feller Merriwell. He hit me when -I wasn’t looking, and I’ll hand him his pay if he ever -gets round to third base. That’s my position.”</p> - -<p>“What you do to him?”</p> - -<p>“Spike him if I get a chance. Watch me. See him -come up to third, and watch me if I get the ball. Will -I tag him with it? Will I? I’ll bang it onto his -muzzle and send him to the dentist’s for new teeth.”</p> - -<p>“You got heap bad grudge,” said Crowfoot. “Much -fun to see you knock-um teeth out of Merriwell feller. -Old Joe he laugh when he see it. It give him big fun.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s play poker and cut out the talk,” urged -Clinker.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"></a>287</span> -Crowfoot took another drink, and the game continued, -with the old savage nodding and blinking over -his cards. Apparently he was half doped by the liquor; -yet, strange to say, try as they might, they could not -seem to win a great deal of his money. He had most -astonishing luck. Repeatedly Stover, who could manipulate -the cards, put up a hand to win, only to have -Crowfoot drop out or show down a better hand. -Gradually the third baseman of the Outlaws grew -ugly and resentful.</p> - -<p>“Rotten luck!” he growled.</p> - -<p>“Ugh!” grunted Crowfoot. “Good luck for Shangowah.”</p> - -<p>“The old sinner is a shark at the game,” muttered -Warwhoop.</p> - -<p>“Sharks should be harpooned,” said South-paw -under his breath.</p> - -<p>They arranged it without spoken words to sink the -harpoon into old Joe. Under cover Buzzsaw showed -Warwhoop three aces in his hand, and Clinker passed -him the fourth.</p> - -<p>Then old Joe dropped out, although he had already -pushed eight dollars into the pot. Gathering up the -Indian’s cards, Pope managed to get a look at them -and gasped with amazement; for Crowfoot had put -down three queens and a pair of ten spots. Thenceforth -for a time South-paw felt certain it was sheer -blundering luck which prevented the uninvited guest -from losing his last dollar.</p> - -<p>Once, as Crowfoot seemed dozing, Stover attempted -deftly to purloin a stack of coins from the -Indian’s pile. Joe lurched forward and put out his -hand as if to save himself; his fingers closed on Buzzsaw’s -wrist, and he woke up.</p> - -<p>“Hello!” he muttered. “What you do? You<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"></a>288</span> -make-um little mistake. You think mebbe my dough -belong to you.”</p> - -<p>“I was just pushing it back from the edge of the -table, so that you wouldn’t knock it all over the floor,” -said Buzzsaw sourly.</p> - -<p>“Heap much oblige,” said Crowfoot. “Shangowah -do as much for you sometime, mebbe.”</p> - -<p>Gradually they began to wonder and suspect. -Finally there came a heavy pot, in which, at the start, -every one lingered. Gentle Willie and Warwhoop -were finally driven out; but, with Crowfoot between -them, Buzzsaw and South-paw continued to raise. -Again Stover had made up a hand, and this time, having -discarded an ace, he felt confident that his four -kings must win. At last it seemed that the old redskin -had been lured into a trap.</p> - -<p>When the show-down came Pope dropped his -hand, and Stover triumphantly displayed the four -kings.</p> - -<p>“Pretty good,” mumbled old Joe. “How you like-um -these?”</p> - -<p>He lay down four aces!</p> - -<p>“Crooked work!” snarled Stover fiercely. “I discarded -an ace myself.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you make little mistake,” protested old Joe. -“You no have ace.”</p> - -<p>“Wait! Don’t you touch that pot!” cried Buzzsaw, -as he grabbed the discards and turned them. “Look—look -at this! Here’s the ace I discarded.”</p> - -<p>He picked the ace of diamonds out of the discards.</p> - -<p>“Ugh!” gurgled old Joe. “Heap funny. Lemme -see. Lemme look at back of that card.”</p> - -<p>Stover turned it over.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"></a>289</span> -“Waugh!” exploded Shangowah, pointing a soiled -finger at the pasteboard. “That no belong in pack. -Back of that card not like others.”</p> - -<p>It was true, and before their eyes Crowfoot turned -his own cards, revealing that they belonged to the pack -with which they were playing.</p> - -<p>“You try to soak-um me,” he sneered. “You slip -’nother card in pack so you can make bluff old Joe -cheat.”</p> - -<p>Stover was staggered for a moment, but, as Crowfoot -reached out to gather in the pot, Buzzsaw uttered -a yell and sprang from his chair, seizing the redskin. -On the other side South-paw Pope did the same, and -Clinker, upsetting his own chair, came quickly to their -assistance.</p> - -<p>Crowfoot had started to rise. As he did this a pack -of cards slipped out of his clothes somewhere and fluttered -over the floor. Gentle Willie grabbed up several -of them and looked at the backs.</p> - -<p>“What do you think!” he cried. “These cards are -like the odd one in the pack we’ve been using! The -Injun substituted that odd card!”</p> - -<p>“Kill him!” raged Buzzsaw.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"></a>290</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxvii">CHAPTER XXVII.<br /> -<span>SHANGOWAH’S BACKERS.</span></h2> - - -<p>When young Joe and Dick arrived at the room of -the Indians in the Sunset House they were astonished -to find it empty. The door had remained locked, but -old Joe Crowfoot was not to be found in that room. -Young Joe even looked beneath the bed in search of -him.</p> - -<p>“He’s gone,” said Dick. “He’s not here.”</p> - -<p>“But how could he get out?” muttered the young -Indian, puzzled and dismayed. “I had the key, and -the door was locked, as you saw.”</p> - -<p>Merriwell thrust his head out of the window and -looked down to the ground. The room was a second-story -one.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps he jumped.”</p> - -<p>“No,” said young Joe positively, “he didn’t do -that.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not so sure of it. I’ve seen the time when he -would think nothing of dropping out of a window this -distance from the ground.”</p> - -<p>“That time is past. Really, Dick, my grandfather -is getting old and feeble. He’s not the man he was. -I’ve seen a great change in him. I doubt if he could -jump from this window to the ground without injuring -himself.”</p> - -<p>“Old as he is,” returned Dick, “I’ll guarantee, if put -to it, or pitted against a desperate enemy, he would -astonish some people. I’ve seen him before when he -seemed nearly all in, and I’ve likewise seen him ‘come -back.’”</p> - -<p>Dick opened the closet door and peered into it.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"></a>291</span> -Suddenly he lifted his hand, with his ear bent toward -the closet.</p> - -<p>Young Joe stepped swiftly and noiselessly to the -Yale man’s side.</p> - -<p>A faint smile crept over Dick Merriwell’s face.</p> - -<p>“We’ve located Shangowah,” he said, in a low tone, -as the sound of voices came to their ears. “He’s in -the adjoining room, and, so help me! I believe he’s -playing poker with a bunch in there.”</p> - -<p>Mingled with the murmur of voices they heard the -clinking of money and shuffling of cards.</p> - -<p>“You’re right,” whispered young Joe. “But how -did he get in there?”</p> - -<p>Even as he asked that question his eyes answered it, -for he discovered the opening high up at the back of -the closet, and he knew the old Indian had mounted -the shelves, squirmed through that opening and entered -the next room in a decidedly unusual manner.</p> - -<p>“He will play poker and he will drink,” muttered -young Joe. “He says he’s too old to abandon such -habits, though he’s rather proud because his grandson -has listened to the counsel of Injun Heart and never -become a confirmed victim of such practices.</p> - -<p>“It’s ten to one.” Joe went on, as he closed the closet -door, “that he’s fallen in with a bunch of sharks, and -he’s in poor condition to take care of himself.”</p> - -<p>“If that is true,” laughed Dick, “it will be something -unusual; for, sober or otherwise, I’ve never -yet seen Shangowah in such a condition that he could -not look after number one. However, I think it will be -well enough to get in there if we can and pry him away -from that bunch.”</p> - -<p>As they reached the door of the other room the -sound of loud, angry, and excited voices came to their -ears, Merriwell’s hand fell on the doorknob, but the -door was locked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"></a>292</span> -“Kill him!” shouted a voice within the room.</p> - -<p>Dick stepped back two strides, then he flung himself -forward, and his shoulder crashed against the door, -which flew open, the lock broken.</p> - -<p>Into that room leaped the two youths red and white. -In a twinkling they had seized old Crowfoot’s assailants -and sent them reeling right and left. The aged -Indian was torn free from the hostile hands that had -clutched him.</p> - -<p>“Ugh!” he grunted stoically. “Heap much obliged.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the row in here?” demanded Dick Merriwell.</p> - -<p>Buzzsaw Stover gathered himself up from the corner -into which he had spun from the hand of Merriwell.</p> - -<p>“We caught that dirty old wolf cheating!” he howled -hoarsely. “He substituted a card from a pack of his -own.”</p> - -<p>“Ugh!” grunted old Joe once more. “You cheat. -You put up one, two, three, and some more little job -on old Crowfoot. You think he not see? You -think he no have eyes? He see you monkey with -pasteboards. He see other man pass you card under -table. He see you try to swipe stack of money from -him. Cheat? You biggest blame thief on two legs!”</p> - -<p>“It’s a lie!” panted Stover. “I’ll choke the breath -out of the old robber! Come on, fellows! Going to -let these two kids come in here and bluff us?”</p> - -<p>His companions answered with vicious cries, and, -following his example, proceeded to attack the intruders.</p> - -<p>During the next few moments there were lively -times in that room. If those Outlaws fancied that by -superior strength and overwhelming numbers they -were going to have a snap with their opponents, they -fooled themselves to the limit. Young Joe Crowfoot<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"></a>293</span> -could use his fists with all the skill of a finished boxer; -and, side by side with Merriwell, he took care of his -share of the assailants. Gentle Willie Touch got a -punch in the wind that promptly put him hors de combat, -and Warwhoop Clinker was given a thump on the -<a name="bugle" id="bugle"></a><ins title="Original has 'bungle'">bugle</ins> -that nearly drove his proboscis back into his face.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, South-paw Pope had “got his” from -Dick, and once more Merriwell reached for Buzzsaw’s -jaw and found it. Stover dropped into the same corner -from which he had lately emerged and sat very -limp and dazed, prevented from keeling over by the -angle of the partitions.</p> - -<p>While this was taking place old Joe Crowfoot -calmly proceeded to rake his own money off the table -and take possession of the big jack pot which had -brought about the clash. The money piled in front -of the chairs at which the Indian’s associates in the -game had sat was left untouched.</p> - -<p>“Now we puckachee,” said old Joe; “we vamoose. -We make a sneak.”</p> - -<p>He wabbled a bit as he passed through the open -door. Dick and young Joe followed him, leaving the -Outlaws to recover.</p> - -<p>“Oh! oh!” gasped Gentle Willie. “I’ll never draw -a full breath again.”</p> - -<p>“My nose!” groaned Clinker, whose face was an unpleasant, -gory spectacle.</p> - -<p>Pope made his complaint, but for the time being -Stover had nothing to say.</p> - -<p>Having recovered a short time later, however, Buzzsaw -raged like a lunatic.</p> - -<p>“There’ll be murder in this town!” he snarled. “I’ll -have that feller Merriwell’s hide before another day -is over.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"></a>294</span> -“Are we going to let that old Injun get away with -the money?” asked Pope.</p> - -<p>“No!” was the furious answer. “We’ll take it away -from him. Come on, let’s find him.”</p> - -<p>But they looked for Shangowah in vain. When they -finally inquired at the desk they were informed that -old Crowfoot and young Joe had settled and left -the hotel for good. No one knew where they had -gone.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"></a>295</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxviii">CHAPTER XXVIII.<br /> -<span>BATTED OUT.</span></h2> - - -<p>To the satisfaction of Bob Harrison, an astonishingly -large crowd of people turned out to watch that -baseball game. The manager of the Outlaws realized -it was doubtful if a bigger attendance would have appeared -had Manager Loring stood by his agreement -to put the regular Springs’ team onto the field. Harrison -could not appreciate the fact that a host of tourists -in town knew about the college men who were to -play, and had a keen desire to see what they could -do against the dreaded Outlaws. He imagined the -crowd had been drawn out solely on account of the -reputation of his star team.</p> - -<p>Mr. Archie Ling was one of the spectators, and for -a time he sought in vain some one who had the courage -to bet on the collegians.</p> - -<p>“Really,” said Mr. Ling disappointedly, “I’ve heard -some people say they thought the youngsters had a -chance in this game, but ’pon my word I can’t find anybody -who cares to back them. I’d like a little wager, -you understand. That would make it interesting.”</p> - -<p>Some one touched him on the shoulder, and, looking -round, to his disgust he discovered, an arm’s length -away, the same old Indian who had offended him by -appearing on the veranda of the hotel the previous -evening.</p> - -<p>“Ugh!” grunted old Crowfoot. “You make little -bet? How much you bet on Outlaw men?”</p> - -<p>“Go away,” said Ling, fanning old Joe off and turning -up his dainty nose.</p> - -<p>“You make bet talk,” persisted old Joe. “You -shoot-um off your mouth. How much you bet?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296"></a>296</span> -“Why, you haven’t any money.”</p> - -<p>“How much you bet?” repeated the old redskin. -“You bet five hundred plunk, old Joe he cover it.”</p> - -<p>“Five—five hundred plunks!” gurgled Ling. “Why, -you never saw so much money in your life. I doubt if -you have five cents in your dirty clothes.”</p> - -<p>Then Crowfoot dug up a huge leather sack, which -clinked significantly and seemed to be stuffed to overflowing. -Pulling the strings of this pouch, the redskin -showed that it was filled with gold and silver coins.</p> - -<p>“How much you bet?” he again demanded.</p> - -<p>“Why—why,” spluttered Ling, aghast, “where did -you get it?”</p> - -<p>“None your blame business,” was the answer. “You -go five hundred dol’ on Outlaw men?”</p> - -<p>“Five hundred dollars! Why, no, indeed!”</p> - -<p>“How much you bet?” again came the question; -“one hundred dol’?”</p> - -<p>“No, indeed! I—I’d like to make a little wager -just to—just to have it interesting. I’ll bet—oh—er—about -five dollars.”</p> - -<p>With a grunt of unspeakable disgust, Crowfoot -yanked at the bag strings, closing the sack, which he -again stowed away upon his person.</p> - -<p>“Five dol’!” he sneered. “You big piker. You tin -horn bluffer. You make heap much loud chin. Old -Joe no waste time to bet little candy money with -dude.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Ling hastily retreated, his face crimson, his -ears offended by the loud laughter of the spectators.</p> - -<p>The practice of the Outlaws was of that accurate, -easy, professional order which marks the work of big -teams. The youngsters likewise practiced well, but -they lacked the cool atmosphere of indifference and -certainty which characterized the professionals.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297"></a>297</span> -A man known to be a fair and impartial umpire -had been secured. Confident of an all too easy victory, -the Outlaws permitted the captain of the opposing -team to name this official, and Dick took the man -he was advised to take by Loring.</p> - -<p>The toss of a coin gave the Outlaws the choice, and -they took the field. The umpire called “play,” and -the game began with South-paw Pope on the slab.</p> - -<p>“Eat ’em alive!” roared Stover.</p> - -<p>“Mow ’em down!” shouted Nutty McLoon.</p> - -<p>“Be gentle with them!” pleaded Willie Touch.</p> - -<p>“Wow! wow!” barked Warwhoop Clinker. “It will -be an awful massacre.”</p> - -<p>“We’ve never had such a snap as this,” laughed -Smiling Joe Brinkley.</p> - -<p>Now possibly four out of five of the spectators fully -expected to witness a one-sided game, with the Outlaws -making a runaway from the very start; and when -Stover mowed down Arlington and Blessed Jones at -the pan, neither of those batters even touching the -ball, it seemed such a sure thing that some sporting -individuals were willing to wager that the youngsters -would not score at all.</p> - -<p>Moving about, old Joe Crowfoot picked up bets here -and there. With one man he bet one hundred even -that the collegians would get half as many runs as -the Outlaws; with another he wagered that Merriwell’s -pick-ups would make as many hits as their opponents; -in fact, they found him ready, as long as his -money lasted, to lay almost any sort of a bet on the -youthful antagonists of the professionals.</p> - -<p>It created universal surprise when young Joe Crowfoot -got a clean single off Pope. Following this, however, -Buckhart popped to the infield, and the collegians -left the bench.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298"></a>298</span> -“Start right in on the kid, Clinker,” urged Stover -savagely. “Let’s give him a drop to start with. Let’s -take the conceit out of him. Wait till I face him!”</p> - -<p>Clinker tried to start things going, but he hit a ball -on the upper side of his bat and popped it high into the -air for Duncan Ross, who was covering first base.</p> - -<p>“Rotten!” complained Warwhoop, seating himself -disgustedly on the bench.</p> - -<p>Kennedy banged a hot one against the shins of -Tucker at short, and Tommy fumbled long enough for -Grouch to canter easily over first.</p> - -<p>“We’re off! We’re going!” roared Buzzsaw.</p> - -<p>Tucker was saying a few uncomplimentary things -to himself, but Dick Merriwell did not seem greatly -disturbed.</p> - -<p>Long Tom Hix bumped a Texas leaguer over the -infield, and Kennedy, on the jump, crossed second, -keeping on toward third.</p> - -<p>Joe Crowfoot, coming in fast from center field, took -the ball in the bound and whipped it like a whistling -bullet to Jimmy Lozier at third.</p> - -<p>The coacher yelled a warning at Kennedy, who suddenly -realized that he could not make the sack. A moment -later the crowd was filled with excitement, as -the youngsters trapped Kennedy on the base line and -attempted to run him down.</p> - -<p>Again Tommy Tucker made a mess of it. He it was -who fumbled a throw and gave Kennedy the chance to -dash past him back to second base.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m pretty good, I am!” said Tommy. “I’m -playing for the Outlaws to-day. I’m afraid they won’t -get a score, and I’m doing my best to help them along.”</p> - -<p>The Outlaws scoffed and sneered at the youngsters.</p> - -<p>His eyes gleaming viciously, Buzzsaw Stover walked -to the plate, bat in hand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299"></a>299</span> -“Hand one over, you young snipe,” he rasped at -Dick, “and I’ll hit it a mile!”</p> - -<p>He missed the first ball cleanly, with Merriwell -smiling at him in an exasperating manner. The next -one was wide, but, immediately following, Buzzsaw -struck again.</p> - -<p>Bat and ball met with a crack, and the sphere, shooting -at Tommy Tucker, touched the ground once. The -little chap took that hot one cleanly. Like a flash of -light he snapped the ball to third for a force-out, and -Lozier, making a beautiful throw, hummed it down -to second for a double.</p> - -<p>The spectators rose and shouted, while the Outlaws -stared in wonderment. Stover could not find language -to express his feelings.</p> - -<p>“That’s the way to redeem yourself, Thomas,” -laughed Dick, as he jogged toward the bench with -Tucker at his side.</p> - -<p>“You little no-good runt!” gurgled Bigelow. “I’d -like to hug you. A few moments ago I had to hold -myself hard to keep from rushing out there to kick -you.”</p> - -<p>“I was fooling ’em, Bouncer,” grinned Tommy. -“They thought they could all pound the horsehide -through me.”</p> - -<p>It was Merriwell’s turn to hit.</p> - -<p>“Get busy with that conceited bottle of buttermilk, -South-paw,” urged Stover. “Show him up.”</p> - -<p>Pope grinned and gave Dick one on the outside corner.</p> - -<p>A moment later the crowd was yelling, as Nutty -McLoon, far out in the field, went wildly racing after -the sphere.</p> - -<p>Over first and second and on toward third ran Dick.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300"></a>300</span> -McLoon got the ball and returned it in the diamond, -causing Tommy Tucker, dancing wildly on the coaching -line, to make frantic gestures for Merriwell to stop -at the third sack.</p> - -<p>Fortunately, Dick had been warned by old Joe -Crowfoot, and he had his eye on Buzzsaw Stover. As -he came up to the sack he saw Stover, standing close -by the bag, prepared for something. Then Buzzsaw -did his prettiest to jab his elbow into Dick’s wind for -what might have been a knockout.</p> - -<p>Stover never knew exactly what happened to him, -but he found himself spinning end over end, and -Tucker was compelled to dodge to get out of his way. -He picked himself up off the turf, the most amazed -man in Colorado Springs. He was likewise infuriated, -and started to rush at Dick. When he saw Merriwell -ready and waiting, however, he changed his mind.</p> - -<p>“What in blazes do you mean?” he snarled.</p> - -<p>“You want to be careful with your elbows and your -spikes to-day, Mr. Stover,” said Dick. “Likewise, I’d -advise you, if you have occasion to tag me, not to -attempt to knock out any of my teeth. I shall be looking -at you all the time.”</p> - -<p>Some of Stover’s companions were inclined to rush -at Dick in a bullying manner, but the crowd rose and -made it plain that sympathy lay with the youngster.</p> - -<p>“Here, here!” shouted Harrison from the bench. -“Let up on that business, boys! We won’t have to -scrap to take this game in a walk.”</p> - -<p>They knew the old man meant it by his tone, and -they likewise knew it was policy to obey him.</p> - -<p>Lozier, who followed Dick, took a signal from the -Yale man at third and batted the ball into the diamond.</p> - -<p>Merriwell came home like a streak, sliding safely, -in spite of the effort to stop him from scoring. This<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301"></a>301</span> -attempt to get Dick at the plate gave Lozier time to -reach first.</p> - -<p>South-paw Pope was exasperated. He heard the -crowd shout its delight and distinguished in the midst -of that tumult the sound of a wild, shrill <a name="warwhoop2" id="warwhoop2"></a><ins title="Original has 'warwooop'">warwhoop</ins> -that came from the lips of a well-satisfied old redskin -who had bet his last dollar on the college boys.</p> - -<p>Old Greg McGregor jogged into the batter’s box and -let two wide ones pass. Then he found one of Pope’s -benders for a safety in right that sent Lozier all the -way to third.</p> - -<p>The Outlaws were amazed and possibly somewhat -rattled. At any rate, Dead-eye Jack Roony made a -poor throw to second when McGregor attempted to -steal, and the runner was safe.</p> - -<p>Duncan Ross fouled out.</p> - -<p>“The little flurry is over, Pope,” cried Long Tom -Hix. “We’ll take ’em in order now. Let the two -kids cool their heels on the sacks.”</p> - -<p>Tucker scarcely looked like a hitter as he stood at -the plate twiddling his bat. He looked even less so -when he missed Pope’s first ball by a foot. But a moment -later he bumped an easy hit through the infield, -and both Lozier and McGregor raced home.</p> - -<p>“Oh, my, how easy!” whooped Tommy. “It’s pie! -it’s pie! We’ll bat him out of the box.”</p> - -<p>Chester Arlington had caught the fever. He followed -with a stinging two-sacker, which carried -Tucker to the pan.</p> - -<p>The crowd was cheering and laughing; Bob Harrison -was astounded and furious. The exasperated manager -roared at Pope threateningly, and South-paw -vowed to stop the “doings” right away.</p> - -<p>He vowed in vain. Jones hit safely, and Arlington -scored. Then young Joe emulated Arlington in hitting, -and old Blessed added another tally.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302"></a>302</span> -Manager Harrison had a fit.</p> - -<p>“Come in here, Pope!” he thundered. “You’re on -the bum! Go out there and stop this business, -Brown!”</p> - -<p>The collegians had batted the great south-paw -twirler off the slab!</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303"></a>303</span> -</div> - -<h2 id="xxix">CHAPTER XXIX.<br /> -<span>THE FINISH.</span></h2> - - -<p>Wopsy Bill Brown had better luck to start with. -Buckhart hit the ball hard, it is true, but the sailing -sphere was gathered in by an outfielder, and Crowfoot -lodged on third.</p> - -<p>Dick likewise banged the horsehide far into the outfield, -but again it was caught, which retired the -youngsters after they had made six runs.</p> - -<p>The Outlaws went to bat determined to change the -aspect of affairs in a hurry. Imagine their astonishment -when Merriwell smilingly mowed down three -men in quick order.</p> - -<p>Up to the beginning of the seventh inning Wopsy -Bill held the collegians successfully, although twice the -youngsters pushed a runner round to third. The Outlaws -fought savagely, trying in various ways to -frighten their opponents, but failing utterly.</p> - -<p>The seventh opened with Buckhart at bat, and he -led off with a smash that netted three sacks.</p> - -<p>Dick hit safely a moment later, scoring Brad. Lozier -bunted and died at first, while Dick took second.</p> - -<p>Old Greg McGregor showed his mettle by drawing -a two-sacker that gave the youngsters still another -tally. Merriwell kept his eyes on Stover as he crossed -third, and Buzzsaw did not dare try any dirty tricks.</p> - -<p>When Duncan Ross followed with a hit, Bob Harrison -went into the air and yanked Wopsy off the plate.</p> - -<p>Strawberry Lane, the only remaining pitcher of the -Outlaws, went in to stem the tide.</p> - -<p>“Too late! too late!” came the cry from the crowd. -“They’ve got the game now.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304"></a>304</span> -Like Brown, Lane succeeded in checking the run getting -for the time being, striking out Tucker and forcing -Arlington to lift an easy fly.</p> - -<p>In the last of the seventh the Outlaws obtained their -one and only tally. Stover struck out to begin with -and retired to the bench, his heart bitter with hatred -for Dick Merriwell.</p> - -<p>McLoon, coming next, hit along the third-base line, -and the ball caromed off Lozier’s bare right hand. -Nutty ran wild over first, and Lozier, trying to get -him at second, caught the ball up swiftly and made a -bad throw.</p> - -<p>Over third McLoon sped, and McGregor, who had -tried to back up second, completed the unfortunate -series of errors by throwing wide to the plate.</p> - -<p>“Now,” snarled Buzzsaw Stover, “let’s keep right -at it and make a hundred.”</p> - -<p>A few moments later, Merriwell had cut down Smiling -Joe Brinkley and Gentle Willie Touch, and Buzzsaw -went to third sore as a flea-bitten cur.</p> - -<p>In the eighth there came near being a riot when -Stover tried to spike Blessed Jones, who had reached -third on a single, a sacrifice by Crowfoot, and a steal. -The umpire promptly informed the vicious third sacker -of the Outlaws that he would be put out of the game if -he tried any more such contemptible tricks.</p> - -<p>Jones scored on a safety by Buckhart.</p> - -<p>Dick hit one into centre field and was out.</p> - -<p>Lozier fanned a few seconds later.</p> - -<p>There was no further run getting on either side. In -the eighth and ninth innings Merriwell was invincible -on the slab. Those amazed Outlaws could do nothing -whatever with his delivery, and the delighted spectators -simply shouted themselves hoarse. Never had -Harrison’s stars received such a drubbing, the final -score being nine to one against them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305"></a>305</span> -The college lads were congratulated on every hand. -Old Joe Crowfoot found young Joe and looked him -over approvingly.</p> - -<p>“You make heap fair baseball player bimeby, -mebbe,” said the old chief. “You learn some, mebbe. -Old Joe he clear up good thing to-day. He have -money ’nough to-night so you pay two year at Yale -school. He reckon he hand-um it over so he no lose -it.”</p> - -<p>Bob Harrison shouldered his way through the crowd -and reached Dick Merriwell.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” he called; “look here, young fellow, -you certainly was loaded with horseshoes to-day. It -was the biggest accident that ever happened. Play us -again. Play us to-morrow, and we won’t leave you -in the shape of anything. I’ll call off a date with -Cheyenne in order to play you.”</p> - -<p>“I’m very sorry, Mr. Harrison,” smiled Dick; “but -it will be impossible for us to give you another game. -My pick-up team disbands to-night, as business will -make it necessary for several of the players to leave -the Springs to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Yah! You’re afraid!” cried Harrison. “You -don’t dare play another game.”</p> - -<p>“Go ’way back and set down,” grunted old Joe -Crowfoot. “He beat-um you any time you play. You -have big team of stars? Waugh! No good!”</p> - -<p>Then several of the bystanders stepped between Harrison -and the old redskin to prevent the exasperated -manager from laying violent hands on Shangowah.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That evening Dick and June sat talking in low tones -on the hotel veranda.</p> - -<p>“Buckhart,” said Dick, “has an uncle on a ranch up -North, and we’re going up there. It was a great treat -to meet you here, June.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306"></a>306</span> -“It was fine, Dick,” she returned. “Oh, it was just -splendid to watch the game to-day! It seemed like -old times. We are leaving to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“Going back home?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Chester and I decided that we ought to go -right away. I’m sorry we can’t all stay here a little -longer, for it has been very pleasant—very pleasant——”</p> - -<p>His hand found hers and held it tightly.</p> - -<p>“It has been the pleasantest feature of my summer, -June,” he declared.</p> - -<p>In the shadows he lifted her hand to his lips.</p> - -<p>“Till we meet again, June!” he whispered.</p> - -<p>“Till we meet again, Dick!”</p> - - -<p class="center p120 mt3">THE END.</p> - - -<p class="center mt3">Don’t fail to ask for No: 190 of the <span class="smcap">Merriwell -Series</span>, entitled “Dick Merriwell’s Intuition,” by -Burt L. Standish.</p> - - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_i"></a>i</span> -</div> - -<p id="books" class="center p120 bold"><i>NOTE THE NEW TITLES LISTED</i></p> - -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p180 bold">Western Story Library</p> - -<p class="center p120 bold">For Everyone Who Likes Adventure</p> - -<p>Ted Strong and his band of broncho-busters have most exciting adventures -in this line of attractive big books, and furnish the reader -with an almost unlimited number of thrills.</p> - -<p>If you like a really good Western cowboy story, then this line is -made expressly for you.</p> - -<p class="center bold"><i>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</i></p> - -<dl> -<dt> 1—Ted Strong, Cowboy</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt> 2—Ted Strong Among the Cattlemen</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt> 3—Ted Strong’s Black Mountain Ranch</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt> 4—Ted Strong With Rifle and Lasso</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt> 5—Ted Strong Lost in the Desert</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt> 6—Ted Strong Fighting the Rustlers</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt> 7—Ted Strong and the Rival Miners</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt> 9—Ted Strong on a Mountain Trail</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>10—Ted Strong Across the Prairie</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>11—Ted Strong Out For Big Game</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>12—Ted Strong, Challenged</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>13—Ted Strong’s Close Call</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>14—Ted Strong’s Passport</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>15—Ted Strong’s Nebraska Ranch</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>16—Ted Strong’s Cattle Drive</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>17—Ted Strong’s Stampede</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>18—Ted Strong’s Prairie Trail</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>19—Ted Strong’s Surprise</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>20—Ted Strong’s Wolf Hunters</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>22—Ted Strong in Colorado</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>25—Ted Strong’s Search</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>26—Ted Strong’s Diamond Mine</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>27—Ted Strong’s Manful Task</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>28—Ted Strong, Manager</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>30—Ted Strong’s Gold Mine</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>32—Ted Strong’s Wild Horse</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>34—Ted Strong’s Stowaway</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>35—Ted Strong’s Prize Herd</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>36—Ted Strong’s Trouble</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>37—Ted Strong’s Mettle</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>38—Ted Strong’s Big Business</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>39—Ted Strong’s Treasure Cave</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>40—Ted Strong’s Vanishing Island</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>43—Ted Strong’s Contract</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>44—Ted Strong’s Stolen Pinto</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>45—Ted Strong’s Saddle Pard</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>46—Ted Strong and the Sioux Players</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>47—Ted Strong’s Bronchos</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>48—Ted Strong’s Ranch War</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>49—Ted Strong and the Cattle Raiders</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>50—Ted Strong’s Great Round-up</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>51—Ted Strong’s Big Horn Trail</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ii"></a>ii</span></dd> -<dt>52—Ted Strong in Bandit Cañon</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>53—Ted Strong at Z-Bar Ranch</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>55—Ted Strong’s Border Battle</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>56—Ted Strong on U. P. Duty</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>57—Ted Strong’s Lariat Duel</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>58—Ted Strong’s Vigilantes</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>59—Ted Strong’s Mesa Foe</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>60—Ted Strong Tries Prospecting</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>61—Ted Strong’s Desert Round-up</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>62—Ted Strong at Lost Gulch</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>63—Ted Strong on an Outlaw’s Trail</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>64—Ted Strong and the Two-Gun Men</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>65—Ted Strong’s Rodeo Ride</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>66—Ted Strong’s Ivory-Handled Gun</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>67—Ted Strong’s Redskin Pal</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>68—Ted Strong and the Sagebrush Kid</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -<dt>69—Ted Strong’s Rustler Round-up</dt> -<dd>By Edward C. Taylor</dd> -</dl> -</div> - - - -<div class="chapter clear"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p120 bold">ROMANCE</p> - -<p class="center p120 bold">ADVENTURE</p> - -<p class="center p120 bold">MYSTERY</p> - -<p>All types of stories are represented -in this catalogue. The -S & S novels are the world’s -greatest entertainment at a price -that truly entitles them to be -termed:</p> - -<p class="center">THE RIGHT BOOKS AT THE -RIGHT PRICE</p> -</div></div> - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_iii"></a>iii</span> -</div> - -<p class="center p140 bold">NICK CARTER STORIES</p> - -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p180 bold">New Magnet Library</p> - -<p class="center bold"><i>Not a Dull Book in This List</i></p> - -<p class="center">ALL BY NICHOLAS CARTER</p> - -<p>Nick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact -that the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to -the work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced -no other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation -of new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly -from all sorts of troubles and landed the criminal just where -he should be—behind the bars.</p> - -<p>The author of these stories knew more about writing detective stories -than any other single person.</p> - -<p>Following is a list of the best Nick Carter stories. They have been -selected with extreme care, and we unhesitatingly recommend each of -them as being fully as interesting as any detective story between cloth -covers which sells at ten times the price.</p> - -<p>If you do not know Nick Carter, buy a copy of any of the New -Magnet Library books, and get acquainted. He will surprise and delight -you.</p> - -<p><i>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</i></p> - -<ul> -<li> 850—Wanted: A Clew</li> -<li> 851—A Tangled Skein</li> -<li> 852—The Bullion Mystery</li> -<li> 853—The Man of Riddles</li> -<li> 854—A Miscarriage of Justice</li> -<li> 855—The Gloved Hand</li> -<li> 856—Spoilers and the Spoils</li> -<li> 857—The Deeper Game</li> -<li> 858—Bolts from Blue Skies</li> -<li> 859—Unseen Foes</li> -<li> 860—Knaves in High Places</li> -<li> 861—The Microbe of Crime</li> -<li> 862—In the Toils of Fear</li> -<li> 863—A Heritage of Trouble</li> -<li> 864—Called to Account</li> -<li> 865—The Just and the Unjust</li> -<li> 866—Instinct at Fault</li> -<li> 867—A Rogue Worth Trapping</li> -<li> 868—A Rope of Slender Threads</li> -<li> 869—The Last Call</li> -<li> 870—The Spoils of Chance</li> -<li> 871—A Struggle with Destiny</li> -<li> 872—The Slave of Crime</li> -<li> 873—The Crook’s Blind</li> -<li> 874—A Rascal of Quality</li> -<li> 875—With Shackles of Fire</li> -<li> 876—The Man Who Changed Faces</li> -<li> 877—The Fixed Alibi</li> -<li> 878—Out with the Tide</li> -<li> 879—The Soul Destroyers</li> -<li> 880—The Wages of Rascality</li> -<li> 881—Birds of Prey</li> -<li> 882—When Destruction Threatens</li> -<li> 883—The Keeper of Black Hounds</li> -<li> 884—The Door of Doubt</li> -<li> 885—The Wolf Within</li> -<li> 886—A Perilous Parole</li> -<li> 887—The Trail of the Finger Prints</li> -<li> 888—Dodging the Law</li> -<li> 889—A Crime in Paradise</li> -<li> 890—On the Ragged Edge</li> -<li> 891—The Red God of Tragedy</li> -<li> 892—The Man Who Paid</li> -<li> 893—The Blind Man’s Daughter</li> -<li> 894—One Object in Life</li> -<li> 895—As a Crook Sows</li> -<li> 896—In Record Time</li> -<li> 897—Held in Suspense</li> -<li> 898—The $100,000 Kiss</li> -<li> 899—Just One Slip</li> -<li> 900—On a Million-dollar Trail</li> -<li> 901—A Weird Treasure</li> -<li> 902—The Middle Link</li> -<li> 903—To the Ends of the Earth</li> -<li> 904—When Honors Pall</li> -<li> 905—The Yellow Brand</li> -<li> 906—A New Serpent in Eden</li> -<li> 907—When Brave Men Tremble</li> -<li> 908—A Test of Courage</li> -<li> 909—Where Peril Beckons</li> -<li> 910—The Gargoni Girdle</li> -<li> 911—Rascals & Co.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_iv"></a>iv</span></li> -<li> 912—Too Late to Talk</li> -<li> 913—Satan’s Apt Pupil</li> -<li> 914—The Girl Prisoner</li> -<li> 915—The Danger of Folly</li> -<li> 916—One Shipwreck Too Many</li> -<li> 917—Scourged by Fear</li> -<li> 918—The Red Plague</li> -<li> 919—Scoundrels Rampant</li> -<li> 920—From Clew to Clew</li> -<li> 921—When Rogues Conspire</li> -<li> 922—Twelve In a Grave</li> -<li> 923—The Great Opium Case</li> -<li> 924—A Conspiracy of Rumors</li> -<li> 925—A Klondike Claim</li> -<li> 926—The Evil Formula</li> -<li> 927—The Man of Many Faces</li> -<li> 928—The Great Enigma</li> -<li> 929—The Burden of Proof</li> -<li> 930—The Stolen Brain</li> -<li> 931—A Titled Counterfeiter</li> -<li> 932—The Magic Necklace</li> -<li> 933—’Round the World for a Quarter</li> -<li> 934—Over the Edge of the World</li> -<li> 935—In the Grip of Fate</li> -<li> 936—The Case of Many Clews</li> -<li> 937—The Sealed Door</li> -<li> 938—Nick Carter and the Green Goods Men</li> -<li> 939—The Man Without a Will</li> -<li> 940—Tracked Across the Atlantic</li> -<li> 941—A Clew from the Unknown</li> -<li> 942—The Crime of a Countess</li> -<li> 943—A Mixed-up Mess</li> -<li> 944—The Great Money-order Swindle</li> -<li> 945—The Adder’s Brood</li> -<li> 946—A Wall Street Haul</li> -<li> 947—For a Pawned Crown</li> -<li> 948—Scaled Orders</li> -<li> 949—The Hate that Kills</li> -<li> 950—The American Marquis</li> -<li> 951—The Needy Nine</li> -<li> 952—Fighting Against Millions</li> -<li> 953—Outlaws of the Blue</li> -<li> 954—The Old Detective’s Pupil</li> -<li> 955—Found in the Jungle</li> -<li> 956—The Mysterious Mail Robbery</li> -<li> 957—Broken Bars</li> -<li> 958—A Fair Criminal</li> -<li> 959—Won by Magic</li> -<li> 960—The Plano Box Mystery</li> -<li> 961—The Man They Held Back</li> -<li> 962—A Millionaire Partner</li> -<li> 963—A Pressing Peril</li> -<li> 964—An Australian Klondike</li> -<li> 965—The Sultan’s Pearls</li> -<li> 966—The Double Shuffle Club</li> -<li> 967—Paying the Price</li> -<li> 968—A Woman’s Hand</li> -<li> 969—A Network of Crime</li> -<li> 970—At Thompson’s Ranch</li> -<li> 971—The Crossed Needles</li> -<li> 972—The Diamond Mine Case</li> -<li> 973—Blood Will Tell</li> -<li> 974—An Accidental Password</li> -<li> 975—The Crook’s Double</li> -<li> 976—Two Plus Two</li> -<li> 977—The Yellow Label</li> -<li> 978—The Clever Celestial</li> -<li> 979—The Amphitheater Plot</li> -<li> 980—Gideon Drexel’s Millions</li> -<li> 981—Death in Life</li> -<li> 982—A Stolen Identity</li> -<li> 983—Evidence by Telephone</li> -<li> 984—The Twelve Tin Boxes</li> -<li> 985—Clew Against Clew</li> -<li> 986—Lady Velvet</li> -<li> 987—Playing a Bold Game</li> -<li> 988—A Dead Man’s Grip</li> -<li> 989—Snarled Identities</li> -<li> 990—A Deposit Vault Puzzle</li> -<li> 991—The Crescent Brotherhood</li> -<li> 992—The Stolen Pay Train</li> -<li> 993—The Sea Fox</li> -<li> 994—Wanted by Two Clients</li> -<li> 995—The Van Alstine Case</li> -<li> 996—Check No. 777</li> -<li> 997—Partners in Peril</li> -<li> 998—Nick Carter’s Clever Protégé</li> -<li> 999—The Sign of the Crossed Knives</li> -<li>1000—The Man Who Vanished</li> -<li>1001—A Battle for the Right</li> -<li>1002—A Game of Craft</li> -<li>1003—Nick Carter’s Retainer</li> -<li>1004—Caught in the Toils</li> -<li>1005—A Broken Bond</li> -<li>1006—The Crime of the French Café</li> -<li>1007—The Man Who Stole Millions</li> -<li>1008—The Twelve Wise Men</li> -<li>1009—Hidden Foes</li> -<li>1010—A Gamblers’ Syndicate</li> -<li>1011—A Chance Discovery</li> -<li>1012—Among the Counterfeiters</li> -<li>1013—A Threefold Disappearance</li> -<li>1014—At Odds with Scotland Yard</li> -<li>1015—A Princess of Crime</li> -<li>1016—Found on the Beach</li> -<li>1017—A Spinner of Death</li> -<li>1018—The Detective’s Pretty Neighbor</li> -<li>1019—A Bogus Clew</li> -<li>1020—The Puzzle of Five Pistols</li> -<li>1021—The Secret of the Marble Mantel</li> -<li>1022—A Bite of an Apple<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_v"></a>v</span></li> -<li>1023—A Triple Crime</li> -<li>1024—The Stolen Race Horse</li> -<li>1025—Wildfire</li> -<li>1026—A <i>Herald</i> Personal</li> -<li>1027—The Finger of Suspicion</li> -<li>1028—The Crimson Clew</li> -<li>1029—Nick Carter Down East</li> -<li>1030—The Chain of Clews</li> -<li>1031—A Victim of Circumstances</li> -<li>1032—Brought to Bay</li> -<li>1033—The Dynamite Trap</li> -<li>1034—A Scrap of Black Lace</li> -<li>1035—The Woman of Evil</li> -<li>1036—A Legacy of Hate</li> -<li>1037—A Trusted Rogue</li> -<li>1038—Man Against Man</li> -<li>1039—The Demons of the Night</li> -<li>1040—The Brotherhood of Death</li> -<li>1041—At the Knife’s Point</li> -<li>1042—A Cry for Help</li> -<li>1043—A Stroke of Policy</li> -<li>1044—Hounded to Death</li> -<li>1045—A Bargain in Crime</li> -<li>1046—The Fatal Prescription</li> -<li>1047—The Man of Iron</li> -<li>1048—An Amazing Scoundrel</li> -<li>1049—The Chain of Evidence</li> -<li>1050—Paid with Death</li> -<li>1051—A Fight for a Throne</li> -<li>1052—The Woman of Steel</li> -<li>1053—The Seal of Death</li> -<li>1054—The Human Fiend</li> -<li>1055—A Desperate Chance</li> -<li>1056—A Chase in the Dark</li> -<li>1057—The Snare and the Game</li> -<li>1058—The Murray Hill Mystery</li> -<li>1059—Nick Carter’s Close Call</li> -<li>1060—The Missing Cotton King</li> -<li>1061—A Game of Plots</li> -<li>1062—The Prince of Liars</li> -<li>1063—The Man at the Window</li> -<li>1064—The Red League</li> -<li>1065—The Price of a Secret</li> -<li>1066—The Worst Case on Record</li> -<li>1067—From Peril to Peril</li> -<li>1068—The Seal of Silence</li> -<li>1069—Nick Carter’s Chinese Puzzle</li> -<li>1070—A Blackmailer’s Bluff</li> -<li>1071—Heard in the Dark</li> -<li>1072—A Checkmated Scoundrel</li> -<li>1073—The Cashier’s Secret</li> -<li>1074—Behind a Mask</li> -<li>1075—The Cloak of Guilt</li> -<li>1076—Two Villains in One</li> -<li>1077—The Hot Air Clew</li> -<li>1078—Run to Earth</li> -<li>1079—The Certified Check</li> -<li>1080—Weaving the Web</li> -<li>1081—Beyond Pursuit</li> -<li>1082—The Claws of the Tiger</li> -<li>1083—Driven from Cover</li> -<li>1084—A Deal in Diamonds</li> -<li>1085—The Wizard of the Cue</li> -<li>1086—A Race for Ten Thousand</li> -<li>1087—The Criminal Link</li> -<li>1088—The Red Signal</li> -<li>1089—The Secret Panel</li> -<li>1090—A Bonded Villain</li> -<li>1091—A Move in the Dark</li> -<li>1092—Against Desperate Odds</li> -<li>1093—The Telltale Photographs</li> -<li>1094—The Ruby Pin</li> -<li>1095—The Queen of Diamonds</li> -<li>1096—A Broken Trail</li> -<li>1097—An Ingenious Stratagem</li> -<li>1098—A Sharper’s Downfall</li> -<li>1099—A Race Track Gamble</li> -<li>1100—Without a Clew</li> -<li>1101—The Council of Death</li> -<li>1102—The Hole in the Vault</li> -<li>1103—In Death’s Grip</li> -<li>1104—A Great Conspiracy</li> -<li>1105—The Guilty Governor</li> -<li>1106—A Ring of Rascals</li> -<li>1107—A Masterpiece of Crime</li> -<li>1108—A Blow for Vengeance</li> -<li>1109—Tangled Threads</li> -<li>1110—The Crime of the Camera</li> -<li>1111—The Sign of the Dagger</li> -<li>1112—Nick Carter’s Promise</li> -<li>1113—Marked for Death</li> -<li>1114—The Limited Holdup</li> -<li>1115—When the Trap Was Sprung</li> -<li>1116—Through the Cellar Wall</li> -<li>1117—Under the Tiger’s Claws</li> -<li>1118—The Girl in the Case</li> -<li>1119—Behind a Throne</li> -<li>1120—The Lure of Gold</li> -<li>1121—Hand to Hand</li> -<li>1122—From a Prison Cell</li> -<li>1123—Dr. Quartz, Magician</li> -<li>1124—Into Nick Carter’s Web</li> -<li>1125—The Mystic Diagram</li> -<li>1126—The Hand that Won</li> -<li>1127—Playing a Lone Hand</li> -<li>1128—The Master Villain</li> -<li>1129—The False Claimant</li> -<li>1130—The Living Mask</li> -<li>1131—The Crime and the Motive</li> -<li>1132—A Mysterious Foe</li> -<li>1133—A Missing Man</li> -<li>1134—A Game Well Played</li> -<li>1135—A Cigarette Clew</li> -<li>1136—The Diamond Trail</li> -<li>1137—The Silent Guardian</li> -<li>1138—The Dead Stranger</li> -<li>1140—The Doctor’s Stratagem</li> -<li>1141—Following a Chance Clew</li> -<li>1142—The Bank Draft Puzzle</li> -<li>1143—The Price of Treachery</li> -<li>1144—The Silent Partner</li> -<li>1145—Ahead of the Game</li> -<li>1146—A Trap of Tangled Wire</li> -<li>1147—In the Gloom of Night</li> -<li>1148—The Unaccountable Crook</li> -<li>1149—A Bundle of Clews</li> -<li>1150—The Great Diamond Syndicate</li> -<li>1151—The Death Circle</li> -<li><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vi"></a>vi</span> -1152—The Toss of a Penny</li> -<li>1153—One Step Too Far</li> -<li>1154—The Terrible Thirteen</li> -<li>1155—A Detective’s Theory</li> -<li>1156—Nick Carter’s Auto Trail</li> -<li>1157—A Triple Identity</li> -<li>1158—A Mysterious Graft</li> -<li>1159—A Carnival of Crime</li> -<li>1160—The Bloodstone Terror</li> -<li>1161—Trapped in His Own Net</li> -<li>1162—The Last Move in the Game</li> -<li>1163—A Victim of Deceit</li> -<li>1164—With Links of Steel</li> -<li>1165—A Plaything of Fate</li> -<li>1166—The Key Ring Clew</li> -<li>1167—Playing for a Fortune</li> -<li>1168—At Mystery’s Threshold</li> -<li>1169—Trapped by a Woman</li> -<li>1170—The Four Fingered Glove</li> -<li>1171—Nabob and Knave</li> -<li>1172—The Broadway Cross</li> -<li>1173—The Man Without a Conscience</li> -<li>1174—A Master of Deviltry</li> -<li>1175—Nick Carter’s Double Catch</li> -<li>1176—Doctor Quartz’s Quick Move</li> -<li>1177—The Vial of Death</li> -<li>1178—Nick Carter’s Star Pupils</li> -<li>1179—Nick Carter’s Girl Detective</li> -<li>1180—A Baffled Oath</li> -<li>1181—A Royal Thief</li> -<li>1182—Down and Out</li> -<li>1183—A Syndicate of Rascals</li> -<li>1184—Played to a Finish</li> -<li>1185—A Tangled Case</li> -<li>1186—In Letters of Fire</li> -<li>1187—Crossed Wires</li> -<li>1188—A Plot Uncovered</li> -<li>1189—The Cab Driver’s Secret</li> -<li>1190—Nick Carter’s Death Warrant</li> -<li>1191—The Plot that Failed</li> -<li>1192—Nick Carter’s Masterpiece</li> -<li>1193—A Prince of Rogues</li> -<li>1194—In the Lap of Danger</li> -<li>1195—The Man from London</li> -<li>1196—Circumstantial Evidence</li> -<li>1197—The Pretty Stenographer Mystery</li> -<li>1198—A Villainous Scheme</li> -<li>1199—A Plot Within a Plot</li> -<li>1200—The Elevated Railroad Mystery</li> -<li>1201—The Blow of a Hammer</li> -<li>1202—The Twin Mystery</li> -<li>1203—The Bottle with the Black Label</li> -<li>1204—Under False Colors</li> -<li>1205—A Ring of Dust</li> -<li>1206—The Crown Diamond</li> -<li>1207—The Blood-red Badge</li> -<li>1208—The Barrel Mystery</li> -<li>1209—The Photographer’s Evidence</li> -<li>1210—Millions at Stake</li> -<li>1211—The Man and His Price</li> -<li>1212—A Double-Handed Game</li> -<li>1213—A Strike for Freedom</li> -<li>1214—A Disciple of Satan</li> -<li>1215—The Marked Hand</li> -<li>1216—A Fight with a Fiend</li> -<li>1217—When the Wicked Prosper</li> -<li>1218—A Plunge into Crime</li> -<li>1219—An Artful Schemer</li> -<li>1220—Reaping the Whirlwind</li> -<li>1221—Out of Crime’s Depths</li> -<li>1222—A Woman at Bay</li> -<li>1223—The Temple of Vice</li> -<li>1224—Death at the Feast</li> -<li>1225—A Double Plot</li> -</ul> - -<p>In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the -books listed below will be issued during the respective months in -New York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a -distance promptly, on account of delays in transportation.</p> - -<p class="center">To be published in January, 1928.</p> - -<ul> -<li>1226—In Search of Himself</li> -<li>1227—A Hunter of Men</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in February, 1928.</p> - -<ul> -<li>1228—The Boulevard Mutes</li> -<li>1229—Captain Sparkle, Pirate</li> -<li>1230—Nick Carter’s Fall</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in March, 1928.</p> - -<ul> -<li>1231—Out of Death’s Shadow</li> -<li>1232—A Voice from the Past</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in April, 1928.</p> - -<ul> -<li>1233—Accident or Murder?</li> -<li>1234—The Man Who Was Cursed</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in May, 1928.</p> - -<ul> -<li>1235—Baffled, But Not Beaten</li> -<li>1236—A Case Without a Clew</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in June, 1928.</p> - -<ul> -<li>1237—The Demon’s Eye</li> -<li>1238—A Blindfold Mystery</li> -</ul> -</div> - - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vii"></a>vii</span> -</div> - -<p class="center p120 bold">BOOKS THAT NEVER GROW OLD</p> - -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p180 bold">Alger Series</p> - -<p class="center">Clean Adventure Stories for Boys</p> - -<p class="center">The Most Complete List Published</p> - -<p>The following list does not contain all the books that Horatio Alger -wrote, but it contains most of them, and certainly the best.</p> - -<p>Horatio Alger is to boys what Charles Dickens is to grown-ups. His -work is just as popular to-day as it was years ago. The books have -a quality, the value of which is beyond computation.</p> - -<p>There are legions of boys of foreign parents who are being helped -along the road to true Americanism by reading these books which are -so peculiarly American in tone that the reader cannot fail to absorb -some of the spirit of fair play and clean living which is so characteristically -American.</p> - -<p>In this list will be included certain books by Edward Stratemeyer, -Oliver Optic, and other authors who wrote the Alger type of stories, -which are equal in interest and wholesomeness with those written by -the famous author after which this great line of books for boys is -named.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">By HORATIO ALGER, Jr.</p> - -<ul> -<li> 12—Chester Rand</li> -<li> 13—Grit, the Young Boatman of Pine Point</li> -<li> 14—Joe’s Luck</li> -<li> 15—From Farm Boy to Senator</li> -<li> 16—The Young Outlaw</li> -<li> 17—Jack’s Ward</li> -<li> 18—Dean Dunham</li> -<li> 19—In a New World</li> -<li> 20—Both Sides of the Continent</li> -<li> 22—Brave and Bold</li> -<li> 24—Bob Burton</li> -<li> 26—Julius, the Street Boy</li> -<li> 28—Tom Brace</li> -<li> 29—Struggling Upward</li> -<li> 31—Tom Tracy</li> -<li> 32—The Young Acrobat</li> -<li> 33—Bound to Rise</li> -<li> 34—Hector’s Inheritance</li> -<li> 35—Do and Dare</li> -<li> 36—The Tin Box</li> -<li> 37—Tom, the Bootblack</li> -<li> 38—Risen from the Ranks</li> -<li> 39—Shifting for Himself</li> -<li> 40—Wait and Hope</li> -<li> 41—Sam’s Chance</li> -<li> 42—Striving for Fortune</li> -<li> 43—Phil, the Fiddler</li> -<li> 44—Slow and Sure</li> -<li> 45—Walter Sherwood’s Probation</li> -<li> 47—The Young Salesman</li> -<li> 48—Andy Grant’s Pluck</li> -<li> 49—Facing the World</li> -<li> 50—Luke Walton</li> -<li> 51—Strive and Succeed</li> -<li> 52—From Canal Boy to President</li> -<li> 53—The Erie Train Boy</li> -<li> 54—Paul, the Peddler</li> -<li> 55—The Young Miner</li> -<li> 56—Charlie Codman’s Cruise</li> -<li> 57—A Debt of Honor</li> -<li> 58—The Young Explorer</li> -<li> 59—Ben’s Nugget</li> -<li> 62—Frank Hunter’s Peril</li> -<li> 64—Tom Thatcher’s Fortune</li> -<li> 65—Tom Turner’s Legacy</li> -<li> 66—Dan, the Newsboy</li> -<li><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_viii"></a>viii</span> - 67—Digging for Gold</li> -<li> 69—In Search of Treasure</li> -<li> 70—Frank’s Campaign</li> -<li> 71—Bernard Brook’s Adventures</li> -<li> 73—Paul Prescott’s Charge</li> -<li> 74—Mark Manning’s Mission</li> -<li> 76—Sink or Swim</li> -<li> 77—The Backwoods Boy</li> -<li> 78—Tom Temple’s Career</li> -<li> 79—Ben Bruce</li> -<li> 80—The Young Musician</li> -<li> 81—The Telegraph Boy</li> -<li> 82—Work and Win</li> -<li> 84—The Cash Boy</li> -<li> 85—Herbert Carter’s Legacy</li> -<li> 86—Strong and Steady</li> -<li> 87—Lost at Sea</li> -<li> 89—Young Captain Jack</li> -<li> 90—Joe, the Hotel Boy</li> -<li> 91—Out for Business</li> -<li> 92—Falling in with Fortune</li> -<li> 93—Nelson, the Newsboy</li> -<li> 94—Randy of the River</li> -<li> 96—Ben Logan’s Triumph</li> -<li> 97—The Young Book Agent</li> -<li>168—Luck and Pluck</li> -<li>169—Ragged Dick</li> -<li>170—Fame and Fortune</li> -<li>171—Mark, the Match Boy</li> -<li>172—Rough and Ready</li> -<li>173—Ben, the Luggage Boy</li> -<li>174—Rufus and Rose</li> -</ul> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">By EDWARD STRATEMEYER</p> - -<ul> -<li> 98—The Last Cruise of <i>The Spitfire</i></li> -<li> 99—Reuben Stone’s Discovery</li> -<li>100—True to Himself</li> -<li>101—Richard Dare’s Venture</li> -<li>102—Oliver Bright’s Search</li> -<li>103—To Alaska for Gold</li> -<li>104—The Young Auctioneer</li> -<li>105—Bound to Be an Electrician</li> -<li>106—Shorthand Tom</li> -<li>108—Joe, the Surveyor</li> -<li>109—Larry, the Wanderer</li> -<li>110—The Young Ranchman</li> -<li>111—The Young Lumberman</li> -<li>112—The Young Explorers</li> -<li>113—Boys of the Wilderness</li> -<li>114—Boys of the Great Northwest</li> -<li>115—Boys of the Gold Field</li> -<li>116—For His Country</li> -<li>117—Comrades in Peril</li> -<li>118—The Young Pearl Hunters</li> -<li>119—The Young Bandmaster</li> -<li>121—On Fortune’s Trail</li> -<li>122—Lost in the Land of Ice</li> -<li>123—Bob, the Photographer</li> -</ul> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">By OLIVER OPTIC</p> - -<ul> -<li>124—Among the Missing</li> -<li>125—His Own Helper</li> -<li>126—Honest Kit Dunstable</li> -<li>127—Every Inch a Boy</li> -<li>128—The Young Pilot</li> -<li>129—Always in Luck</li> -<li>130—Rich and Humble</li> -<li>131—In School and Out</li> -<li>133—Work and Win</li> -<li>135—Haste and Waste</li> -<li>136—Royal Tarr’s Pluck</li> -<li>137—The Prisoners of the Cave</li> -<li>138—Louis Chiswick’s Mission</li> -<li>139—The Professor’s Son</li> -<li>140—The Young Hermit</li> -<li>141—The Cruise of <i>The Dandy</i></li> -<li>142—Building Himself Up</li> -<li>143—Lyon Hart’s Heroism</li> -<li>144—Three Young Silver Kings</li> -<li>145—Making a Man of Himself</li> -<li>146—Striving for His Own</li> -<li>147—Through by Daylight</li> -<li>148—Lightning Express</li> -<li>149—On Time</li> -<li>150—Switch Off</li> -<li>151—Brake Up</li> -<li>152—Bear and Forbear</li> -<li>153—The “Starry Flag”</li> -<li>154—Breaking Away</li> -<li>155—Seek and Find</li> -<li>156—Freaks of Fortune</li> -<li>157—Make or Break</li> -<li>158—Down the River</li> -<li>159—The Boat Club</li> -<li>160—All Aboard</li> -<li>161—Now or Never</li> -<li>162—Try Again</li> -<li>163—Poor and Proud</li> -<li>164—Little by Little</li> -<li>165—The Sailor Boy</li> -<li>166—The Yankee Middy</li> -<li>167—Brave Old Salt</li> -</ul> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<dl> -<dt><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ix"></a>ix</span> -175—Fighting for Fortune</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>176—The Young Steel Worker</dt> -<dd>By Frank H. MacDougal</dd> -<dt>177—The Go-ahead Boys</dt> -<dd>By Gale Richards</dd> -<dt>178—For the Right</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>179—The Motor Cycle Boys</dt> -<dd>By Donald Grayson</dd> -<dt>180—The Wall Street Boy</dt> -<dd>By Allan Montgomery</dd> -<dt>181—Stemming the Tide</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>182—On High Gear</dt> -<dd>By Donald Grayson</dd> -<dt>183—A Wall Street Fortune</dt> -<dd>By Allan Montgomery</dd> -<dt>184—Winning by Courage</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>185—From Auto to Airship</dt> -<dd>By Donald Grayson</dd> -<dt>186—Camp and Canoe</dt> -<dd>By Remson Douglas</dd> -<dt>187—Winning Against Odds</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>188—The Luck of Vance Sevier</dt> -<dd>By Frederick Gibson</dd> -<dt>189—The Island Castaway</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>190—The Boy Marvel</dt> -<dd>By Frank H. MacDougal</dd> -<dt>191—A Boy With a Purpose</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>192—The River Fugitives</dt> -<dd>By Remson Douglas</dd> -<dt>193—Out For a Fortune</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>194—The Boy Horse Owner</dt> -<dd>By Frederick Gibson</dd> -<dt>195—Always on Deck</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>196—Paul Hassard’s Peril</dt> -<dd>By Matt Royal</dd> -<dt>197—His Own Master</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>198—When Courage Wins</dt> -<dd>By Edward S. Ellis</dd> -<dt>199—Bound to Get There</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>200—Who Was Milton Marr?</dt> -<dd>By Frederick Gibson</dd> -<dt>201—The Lost Mine</dt> -<dd>By Roy Franklin</dd> -<dt>202—Larry Borden’s Redemption</dt> -<dd>By Emerson Baker</dd> -</dl> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter clear pt3"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<div class="book-container"> -<div class="box"> -<p class="center p140 line-height">EVERY BOY<br /> -<small>Knows</small><br /> -<small>FRANK MERRIWELL</small></p> - -<p class="noi p120">No other fiction character is half so -well known. Why? Well the books -tell why in no uncertain manner</p> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_x"></a>x</span> -</div> - -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p140 bold">BOOKS OF QUALITY</p> - -<p class="center p180 bold">Select Library</p> - -<p class="center bold"><i>Big, Popular Standards</i></p> - -<p>This line is truly named. It is Select because each title in it has -been selected with great care from among hundreds of books by well-known -authors.</p> - -<p>A glance over the following list will show the names of Mary J. -Holmes, Marie Corelli, Rider Haggard, “The Duchess,” R. D. Blackmore, -and translations of some of the more famous French authors, -like Victor Hugo and Alphonse Daudet.</p> - -<p>If you are looking for books which will add to your knowledge of -literature, a complete set of the Select Library, which is so reasonably -priced, will do more for you than a like amount expended on -ordinary fiction between cloth covers.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</i></p> - -<dl> -<dt>  1—Cousin Maude</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>  2—Rosamond Leyton</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>  6—Beulah</dt> -<dd>By Augusta J. Evans</dd> -<dt> 10—The Homestead on the Hillside</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt> 14—East Lynne</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Henry Wood</dd> -<dt> 16—A Romance of Two Worlds</dt> -<dd>By Marie Corelli</dd> -<dt> 17—Cleopatra </dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt> 18—Maggie Miller</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt> 27—Under Two Flags</dt> -<dd>By “Ouida”</dd> -<dt> 28—Dora Deane</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt> 29—Ardath. Vol. I</dt> -<dd>By Marie Corelli</dd> -<dt> 30—Ardath. Vol. II</dt> -<dd>By Marie Corelli</dd> -<dt> 31—The Light That Failed</dt> -<dd>By Rudyard Kipling</dd> -<dt> 32—Tempest and Sunshine</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt> 35—Inez</dt> -<dd>By Augusta J. Evans</dd> -<dt> 36—Phyllis</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt> 42—Vendetta</dt> -<dd>By Marie Corelli</dd> -<dt> 43—Sapho</dt> -<dd>By Alphonse Daudet</dd> -<dt> 44—Lena Rivers </dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt> 48—Meadowbrook </dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt> 50—Won by Waiting</dt> -<dd>By Edna Lyall</dd> -<dt> 51—Camille</dt> -<dd>By Alexandre Dumas</dd> -<dt> 53—Uncle Tom’s Cabin</dt> -<dd>By Harriet Beecher Stowe</dd> -<dt> 54—The English Orphans</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt> 57—Ethelyn’s Mistake </dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt> 58—Treasure Island </dt> -<dd>By Robert Louis Stevenson</dd> -<dt> 59—Mildred Trevanion</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt> 60—Dead Man’s Rock</dt> -<dd>By “Q.” (A. T. Quiller-Couch)</dd> -<dt> 61—The Iron Pirate</dt> -<dd>By Max Pemberton</dd> -<dt> 62—Molly Bawn</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt> 63—Lorna Doone</dt> -<dd>By R. D. Blackmore</dd> -<dt> 66—Airy Fairy Lilian</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt> 67—The Cruise of the <i>Cachalot</i> </dt> -<dd>By Frank T. Bullen</dd> -<dt> 69—The Last Days of Pompeii</dt> -<dd>By Sir Bulwer Lytton</dd> -<dt> 71—The Duchess</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt> 72—Plain Tales From the Hills</dt> -<dd>By Rudyard Kipling</dd> -<dt> 75—She </dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt> 76—Beatrice</dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt> 77—Eric Brighteyes</dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt> 78—Beyond the City</dt> -<dd>By A. Conan Doyle</dd> -<dt> 79—Rossmoyne</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt> 80—King Solomon’s Mines</dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt> 81—She’s All the World to Me</dt> -<dd>By Hall Caine</dd> -<dt> 83—<a name="Kidnapped" id="Kidnapped"></a> -<ins title="Original has 'Kidnaped'">Kidnapped</ins></dt> -<dd>By Robert Louis Stevenson</dd> -<dt><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xi"></a>xi</span> - 84—Undercurrents</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt> 87—The House on the Marsh </dt> -<dd>By Florence Warden</dd> -<dt> 88—The Witch’s Head</dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt> 89—A Perilous Secret</dt> -<dd>By Charles Reade</dd> -<dt> 93—Beauty’s Daughters </dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>100—Led Astray </dt> -<dd>By Octave Feuillet</dd> -<dt>102—Marvel </dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>107—The Visits of Elizabeth</dt> -<dd>By Elinor Glyn</dd> -<dt>108—Allan Quatermain</dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt>110—Soldiers Three</dt> -<dd>By Rudyard Kipling</dd> -<dt>113—A Living Lie</dt> -<dd>By Paul Bourget</dd> -<dt>114—Portia </dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>117—John Halifax, Gentleman</dt> -<dd>By Miss Mulock</dd> -<dt>118—The Tragedy in the Rue de la Paix</dt> -<dd>By Adolphe Belot</dd> -<dt>119—A Princess of Thule</dt> -<dd>By William Black</dd> -<dt>122—Doris</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>123—Carmen and Colomba</dt> -<dd>By Prosper Merimee</dd> -<dt>125—The Master of Ballantrae</dt> -<dd>By Robert Louis Stevenson</dd> -<dt>126—The Toilers of the Sea</dt> -<dd>By Victor Hugo</dd> -<dt>127—Mrs. Geoffrey</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>129—Love and Shipwreck</dt> -<dd>By W. Clark Russell</dd> -<dt>130—Beautiful Jim</dt> -<dd>By John Strange Winter</dd> -<dt>131—Lady Audley’s Secret</dt> -<dd>By Miss M. E. Braddon</dd> -<dt>132—The Frozen Pirate</dt> -<dd>By W. Clark Russell</dd> -<dt>133—Rory O’More</dt> -<dd>By Samuel Lover</dd> -<dt>134—A Modern Circe</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>135—Foul Play</dt> -<dd>By Charles Reade</dd> -<dt>137—I Have Lived and Loved</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Forrester</dd> -<dt>138—Elsie Venner</dt> -<dd>By Oliver Wendell Holmes</dd> -<dt>139—Hans of Iceland</dt> -<dd>By Victor Hugo</dd> -<dt>141—Lady Valworth’s Diamonds </dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>143—John Holdsworth, Chief Mate </dt> -<dd>By W. Clark Russell</dd> -<dt>145—Jess</dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt>146—The Honorable Mrs. Vereker</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>147—The Dead Secret</dt> -<dd>By Wilkie Collins</dd> -<dt>148—Ships That Pass in the Night</dt> -<dd>By Beatrice Harraden</dd> -<dt>149—The Suicide Club</dt> -<dd>By Robert Louis Stevenson</dd> -<dt>150—A Mental Struggle</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>152—Colonel Quaritch, V. C.</dt> -<dd>By H. Rider Haggard</dd> -<dt>153—The Way of a Siren </dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>158—Lady Branksmere</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>159—A Marriage at Sea</dt> -<dd>By W. Clark Russell</dd> -<dt>162—Dick’s Sweetheart</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>165—Faith and Unfaith</dt> -<dd>By “The Duchess”</dd> -<dt>166—The Phantom Rickshaw</dt> -<dd>By Rudyard Kipling</dd> -<dt>209—Rose Mather </dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>210—At Mather House</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>211—Edith Trevor’s Secret</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>212—Cecil Rosse</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>213—Cecil’s Triumph</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>214—Guy Earlscourt’s Wife</dt> -<dd>By May Agnes Fleming</dd> -<dt>215—The Leighton Homestead</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>216—Georgie’s Secret</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>217—Lady Kildare</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>218—Kathleen’s Strange Husband</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>219—Millbank</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>220—Magda’s Choice</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>221—Sundered Hearts</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>222—Bitter Sweet</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>223—Edith Lyle’s Secret</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>224—Edith’s Daughter</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>225—A Wonderful Woman</dt> -<dd>By May Agnes Fleming</dd> -<dt>226—The Mystery of Bracken Hollow</dt> -<dd>By May Agnes Fleming</dd> -<dt>227—The Haunted Husband </dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>228—The White Life Endures</dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>229—Darkness and Daylight</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>230—The Unloved Husband</dt> -<dd>By Mary J. Holmes</dd> -<dt>231—Neva’s Three Lovers </dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -<dt>232—Neva’s Choice </dt> -<dd>By Mrs. Harriet Lewis</dd> -</dl> -</div> - - - - -<div class="section clear"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xii"></a>xii</span> -</div> - -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p180 bold">Round the World Library</p> - -<p class="center p120 bold">Stories of Jack Harkaway and His Comrades</p> - -<p>Every reader, young and old, has heard of Jack Harkaway. His remarkable -adventures in out-of-the-way corners of the globe are really -classics, and every one should read them.</p> - -<p>Jack is a splendid, manly character, full of life and strength and -curiosity. He has a number of very interesting companions—Professor -Mole, for instance, who is very funny. He also has some very strange -enemies, who are anything but funny.</p> - -<p>Get interested in Jack. It will pay you.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center p120 bold">By BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG</p> - -<ul> -<li> 1—Jack Harkaway’s School Days</li> -<li> 2—Jack Harkaway’s Friends</li> -<li> 3—Jack Harkaway After School Days</li> -<li> 4—Jack Harkaway Afloat and Ashore</li> -<li> 5—Jack Harkaway Among the Pirates</li> -<li> 6—Jack Harkaway at Oxford</li> -<li> 7—Jack Harkaway’s Struggles</li> -<li> 8—Jack Harkaway’s Triumphs</li> -<li> 9—Jack Harkaway Among the Brigands</li> -<li>10—Jack Harkaway’s Return</li> -<li>11—Jack Harkaway Around the World</li> -<li>12—Jack Harkaway’s Perils</li> -<li>13—Jack Harkaway in China</li> -<li>14—Jack Harkaway and the Red Dragon</li> -<li>15—Jack Harkaway’s Pluck</li> -<li>16—Jack Harkaway in Australia</li> -<li>17—Jack Harkaway and the Bushrangers</li> -<li>18—Jack Harkaway’s Duel</li> -<li>19—Jack Harkaway and the Turks</li> -<li>20—Jack Harkaway in New York</li> -<li>21—Jack Harkaway Out West</li> -<li>22—Jack Harkaway Among the Indians</li> -<li>23—Jack Harkaway’s Cadet Days</li> -<li>24—Jack Harkaway in the Black Hills</li> -<li>25—Jack Harkaway in the Toils</li> -<li>26—Jack Harkaway’s Secret of Wealth</li> -<li>27—Jack Harkaway, Missing</li> -<li>28—Jack Harkaway and the Sacred Serpent</li> -<li>29—The Fool of the Family</li> -<li>30—Mischievous Matt</li> -<li>31—Mischievous Matt’s Pranks</li> -<li>32—Bob Fairplay Adrift</li> -<li>33—Bob Fairplay at Sea</li> -<li>34—The Boys of St. Aldates</li> -<li>35—Billy Barlow</li> -<li>36—Larry O’Keefe</li> -<li>37—Sam Sawbones</li> -<li>38—Too Fast to Last</li> -<li>39—Home Base</li> -<li>40—Spider and Stump</li> -<li>41—Out for Fun</li> -<li>42—Rob Rollalong, Sailor</li> -<li>43—Rob Rollalong in the Wilds</li> -</ul> - -<dl> -<dt>44—Phil, the Showman</dt> -<dd>By Stanley Norris</dd> -<dt>45—Phil’s Rivals</dt> -<dd>By Stanley Norris</dd> -<dt>46—Phil’s Pluck</dt> -<dd>By Stanley Norris</dd> -<dt>47—Phil’s Triumph</dt> -<dd>By Stanley Norris</dd> -<dt>48—From Circus to Fortune</dt> -<dd>By Stanley Norris</dd> -<dt>49—A Gentleman Born</dt> -<dd>By Stanley Norris</dd> -<dt>50—For His Friend’s Honor</dt> -<dd>By Stanley Norris</dd> -</dl> -</div> - - - - - -<div class="chapter clear pt3"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xiii"></a>xiii</span> -</div> - -<div class="book-container"> -<div class="box"> - -<p class="center p180 bold">The Dealer</p> - -<p class="noi">who handles the STREET & SMITH NOVELS -is a man worth patronizing. The fact that he -does handle our books proves that he has considered -the merits of paper-covered lines, and -has decided that the STREET & SMITH -NOVELS are superior to all others.</p> - -<p>He has looked into the question of the morality -of the paper-covered book, for instance, and -feels that he is perfectly safe in handing one of -our novels to any one, because he has our assurance -that nothing except clean, wholesome -literature finds its way into our lines.</p> - -<p>Therefore, the STREET & SMITH NOVEL -dealer is a careful and wise tradesman, and it -is fair to assume selects the other articles he -has for sale with the same degree of intelligence -as he does his paper-covered books.</p> - -<p>Deal with the STREET & SMITH NOVEL -dealer.</p> - -<p class="center p120">STREET & SMITH CORPORATION</p> - -<p class="noi">79 Seventh Avenue -<span class="float-right">New York City</span></p> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xiv"></a>xiv</span> -</div> - -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p120 bold">BOOKS FOR YOUNG MEN</p> - - -<p class="center p180 bold">MERRIWELL SERIES</p> - -<p class="center p120">ALL BY BURT L. STANDISH</p> - -<p class="center bold">Stories of Frank and Dick Merriwell</p> - -<p class="center p120">Fascinating Stories of Athletics</p> - -<p>A half million enthusiastic followers of the Merriwell brothers will -attest the unfailing interest and wholesomeness of these adventures -of two lads of high ideals, who play fair with themselves, as well as -with the rest of the world.</p> - -<p>These stories are rich in fun and thrills in all branches of sports -and athletics. They are extremely high in moral tone, and cannot -fail to be of immense benefit to every boy who reads them.</p> - -<p>They have the splendid quality of firing a boy’s ambition to become -a good athlete, in order that he may develop into a strong, vigorous, -right-thinking man.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</i></p> - -<ul> -<li>  1—Frank Merriwell’s School Days</li> -<li>  2—Frank Merriwell’s Chums</li> -<li>  3—Frank Merriwell’s Foes</li> -<li>  4—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West</li> -<li>  5—Frank Merriwell Down South</li> -<li>  6—Frank Merriwell’s Bravery</li> -<li>  7—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour</li> -<li>  8—Frank Merriwell in Europe</li> -<li>  9—Frank Merriwell at Yale</li> -<li> 10—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield</li> -<li> 11—Frank Merriwell’s Races</li> -<li> 12—Frank Merriwell’s Party</li> -<li> 13—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour</li> -<li> 14—Frank Merriwell’s Courage</li> -<li> 15—Frank Merriwell’s Daring</li> -<li> 16—Frank Merriwell’s Alarm</li> -<li> 17—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes</li> -<li> 18—Frank Merriwell’s Skill</li> -<li> 19—Frank Merriwell’s Champions</li> -<li> 20—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale</li> -<li> 21—Frank Merriwell’s Secret</li> -<li> 22—Frank Merriwell’s Danger</li> -<li> 23—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty</li> -<li> 24—Frank Merriwell in Camp</li> -<li> 25—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation</li> -<li> 26—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise</li> -<li> 27—Frank Merriwell’s Chase</li> -<li> 28—Frank Merriwell in Maine</li> -<li> 29—Frank Merriwell’s Struggle</li> -<li> 30—Frank Merriwell’s First Job</li> -<li> 31—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity</li> -<li> 32—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck</li> -<li> 33—Frank Merriwell’s Protégé</li> -<li> 34—Frank Merriwell on the Road</li> -<li> 35—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company</li> -<li> 36—Frank Merriwell’s Fame</li> -<li> 37—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums</li> -<li> 38—Frank Merriwell’s Problem</li> -<li> 39—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune</li> -<li> 40—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian</li> -<li> 41—Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity</li> -<li> 42—Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit</li> -<li> 43—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme</li> -<li> 44—Frank Merriwell in England</li> -<li> 45—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards</li> -<li> 46—Frank Merriwell’s Duel</li> -<li> 47—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot</li> -<li> 48—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories</li> -<li><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xv"></a>xv</span> - 49—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence</li> -<li> 50—Frank Merriwell’s Auto</li> -<li> 51—Frank Merriwell’s Fun</li> -<li> 52—Frank Merriwell’s Generosity</li> -<li> 53—Frank Merriwell’s Tricks</li> -<li> 54—Frank Merriwell’s Temptation</li> -<li> 55—Frank Merriwell on Top</li> -<li> 56—Frank Merriwell’s Luck</li> -<li> 57—Frank Merriwell’s Mascot</li> -<li> 58—Frank Merriwell’s Reward</li> -<li> 59—Frank Merriwell’s Phantom</li> -<li> 60—Frank Merriwell’s Faith</li> -<li> 61—Frank Merriwell’s Victories</li> -<li> 62—Frank Merriwell’s Iron Nerve</li> -<li> 63—Frank Merriwell in Kentucky</li> -<li> 64—Frank Merriwell’s Power</li> -<li> 65—Frank Merriwell’s Shrewdness</li> -<li> 66—Frank Merriwell’s Setback</li> -<li> 67—Frank Merriwell’s Search</li> -<li> 68—Frank Merriwell’s Club</li> -<li> 69—Frank Merriwell’s Trust</li> -<li> 70—Frank Merriwell’s False Friend</li> -<li> 71—Frank Merriwell’s Strong Arm</li> -<li> 72—Frank Merriwell as Coach</li> -<li> 73—Frank Merriwell’s Brother</li> -<li> 74—Frank Merriwell’s Marvel</li> -<li> 75—Frank Merriwell’s Support</li> -<li> 76—Dick Merriwell at Fardale</li> -<li> 77—Dick Merriwell’s Glory</li> -<li> 78—Dick Merriwell’s Promise</li> -<li> 79—Dick Merriwell’s Rescue</li> -<li> 80—Dick Merriwell’s Narrow Escape</li> -<li> 81—Dick Merriwell’s Racket</li> -<li> 82—Dick Merriwell’s Revenge</li> -<li> 83—Dick Merriwell’s Ruse</li> -<li> 84—Dick Merriwell’s Delivery</li> -<li> 85—Dick Merriwell’s Wonders</li> -<li> 86—Frank Merriwell’s Honor</li> -<li> 87—Dick Merriwell’s Diamond</li> -<li> 88—Frank Merriwell’s Winners</li> -<li> 89—Dick Merriwell’s Dash</li> -<li> 90—Dick Merriwell’s Ability</li> -<li> 91—Dick Merriwell’s Trap</li> -<li> 92—Dick Merriwell’s Defense</li> -<li> 93—Dick Merriwell’s Model</li> -<li> 94—Dick Merriwell’s Mystery</li> -<li> 95—Frank Merriwell’s Backers</li> -<li> 96—Dick Merriwell’s Backstop</li> -<li> 97—Dick Merriwell’s Western Mission</li> -<li> 98—Frank Merriwell’s Rescue</li> -<li> 99—Frank Merriwell’s Encounter</li> -<li>100—Dick Merriwell’s Marked Money</li> -<li>101—Frank Merriwell’s Nomads</li> -<li>102—Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron</li> -<li>103—Dick Merriwell’s Disguise</li> -<li>104—Dick Merriwell’s Test</li> -<li>105—Frank Merriwell’s Trump Card</li> -<li>106—Frank Merriwell’s Strategy</li> -<li>107—Frank Merriwell’s Triumph</li> -<li>108—Dick Merriwell’s Grit</li> -<li>109—Dick Merriwell’s Assurance</li> -<li>110—Dick Merriwell’s Long Slide</li> -<li>111—Frank Merriwell’s Rough Deal</li> -<li>112—Dick Merriwell’s Threat</li> -<li>113—Dick Merriwell’s Persistence</li> -<li>114—Dick Merriwell’s Day</li> -<li>115—Frank Merriwell’s Peril</li> -<li>116—Dick Merriwell’s Downfall</li> -<li>117—Frank Merriwell’s Pursuit</li> -<li>118—Dick Merriwell Abroad</li> -<li>119—Frank Merriwell in the Rockies</li> -<li>120—Dick Merriwell’s Pranks</li> -<li>121—Frank Merriwell’s Pride</li> -<li>122—Frank Merriwell’s Challengers</li> -<li>123—Frank Merriwell’s Endurance</li> -<li>124—Dick Merriwell’s Cleverness</li> -<li>125—Frank Merriwell’s Marriage</li> -<li>126—Dick Merriwell, the Wizard</li> -<li>127—Dick Merriwell’s Stroke</li> -<li>128—Dick Merriwell’s Return</li> -<li>129—Dick Merriwell’s Resource</li> -<li>130—Dick Merriwell’s Five</li> -<li>131—Frank Merriwell’s Tigers</li> -<li>132—Dick Merriwell’s Polo Team</li> -<li>133—Frank Merriwell’s Pupils</li> -<li>134—Frank Merriwell’s New Boy</li> -<li>135—Dick Merriwell’s Home Run</li> -<li>136—Dick Merriwell’s Dare</li> -<li>137—Frank Merriwell’s Son</li> -<li>138—Dick Merriwell’s Team Mate</li> -<li>139—Frank Merriwell’s Leaguers</li> -<li>140—Frank Merriwell’s Happy Camp</li> -<li>141—Dick Merriwell’s Influence</li> -<li>142—Dick Merriwell, Freshman</li> -<li>143—Dick Merriwell’s Staying Power</li> -<li>144—Dick Merriwell’s Joke</li> -<li>145—Frank Merriwell’s Talisman</li> -<li>146—Frank Merriwell’s Horse</li> -<li>147—Dick Merriwell’s Regret</li> -<li>148—Dick Merriwell’s Magnetism</li> -<li>149—Dick Merriwell’s Backers</li> -<li>150—Dick Merriwell’s Best Work</li> -<li>151—Dick Merriwell’s Distrust</li> -<li>152—Dick Merriwell’s Debt</li> -<li>153—Dick Merriwell’s Mastery</li> -<li>154—Dick Merriwell Adrift</li> -<li>155—Frank Merriwell’s Worst Boy</li> -<li>156—Dick Merriwell’s Close Call</li> -<li>157—Frank Merriwell’s Air Voyage</li> -<li>158—Dick Merriwell’s Black Star</li> -<li>159—Frank Merriwell in Wall Street</li> -<li>160—Frank Merriwell Facing His Foes</li> -<li>161—Dick Merriwell’s Stanchness</li> -<li>162—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Case</li> -<li><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xvi"></a>xvi</span> -163—Dick Merriwell’s Stand</li> -<li>164—Dick Merriwell Doubted</li> -<li>165—Frank Merriwell’s Steadying Hand</li> -<li>166—Dick Merriwell’s Example</li> -<li>167—Dick Merriwell in the Wilds</li> -<li>168—Frank Merriwell’s Ranch</li> -<li>169—Dick Merriwell’s Way</li> -<li>170—Frank Merriwell’s Lesson</li> -<li>171—Dick Merriwell’s Reputation</li> -<li>172—Frank Merriwell’s Encouragement</li> -<li>173—Dick Merriwell’s Honors</li> -<li>174—Frank Merriwell’s Wizard</li> -<li>175—Dick Merriwell’s Race</li> -<li>176—Dick Merriwell’s Star Play</li> -<li>177—Frank Merriwell at Phantom Lake</li> -<li>178—Dick Merriwell a Winner</li> -<li>179—Dick Merriwell at the County Fair</li> -<li>180—Frank Merriwell’s Grit</li> -<li>181—Dick Merriwell’s Power</li> -<li>182—Frank Merriwell in Peru</li> -</ul> - -<p>In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the -books listed below will be issued during the respective months in -New York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a -distance promptly, on account of delays in transportation.</p> - -<p class="center">To be published in January, 1928.</p> -<ul> -<li>183—Frank Merriwell’s Long Chance</li> -<li>184—Frank Merriwell’s Old Form</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in February, 1928.</p> -<ul> -<li>185—Frank Merriwell’s Treasure Hunt</li> -<li>186—Dick Merriwell Game to the Last</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in March, 1928.</p> -<ul> -<li>187—Dick Merriwell, Motor King</li> -<li>188—Dick Merriwell’s Tussle</li> -<li>189—Dick Merriwell’s Aëro Dash</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in April, 1928.</p> -<ul> -<li>190—Dick Merriwell’s Intuition</li> -<li>191—Dick Merriwell’s Placer Find</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in May, 1928.</p> -<ul> -<li>192—Dick Merriwell’s Fighting Chance</li> -<li>193—Frank Merriwell’s Tact</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">To be published in June, 1928.</p> -<ul> -<li>194—Frank Merriwell’s Puzzle</li> -<li>195—Frank Merriwell’s Mystery</li> -</ul> -</div> - - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p120">RATTLING GOOD ADVENTURE</p> - -<p class="center p180 bold">SPORT STORIES</p> - -<p class="center p120 bold"><i>Stories of the Big Outdoors</i></p> - -<p>There has been a big demand for outdoor stories, and a very -considerable portion of it has been for the Maxwell Stevens stories -about Jack Lightfoot, the athlete.</p> - -<p>These stories are not, strictly speaking, stories for boys, but boys -everywhere will find a great deal in them to interest them.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</i></p> - -<ul> -<li> 1—Jack Lightfoot, the Athlete</li> -<li> 2—Jack Lightfoot’s Crack Nine</li> -<li> 3—Jack Lightfoot Trapped</li> -<li> 4—Jack Lightfoot’s Rival</li> -<li> 5—Jack Lightfoot in Camp</li> -<li> 6—Jack Lightfoot’s Canoe Trip</li> -<li> 7—Jack Lightfoot’s Iron Arm</li> -<li> 8—Jack Lightfoot’s Hoodoo</li> -<li> 9—Jack Lightfoot’s Decision</li> -<li>10—Jack Lightfoot’s Gun Club</li> -<li>11—Jack Lightfoot’s Blind</li> -<li>12—Jack Lightfoot’s Capture</li> -<li>13—Jack Lightfoot’s Head Work</li> -<li>14—Jack Lightfoot’s Wisdom</li> -</ul> -</div> - - - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xvii"></a>xvii</span> -</div> - -<div class="book-container"> -<p class="center p120 bold"><i>TALES OF THE ROLLING PLAINS</i></p> - -<p class="center p180 bold">Great Western Library</p> - -<p class="center p120">By COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM and W. B. LAWSON</p> - -<p class="center">Thrilling Adventure</p> - -<p>For many years we have been urged by readers who like Western stories to publish -some tales about the adventures of Diamond Dick. Therefore, we decided to have a -new series of stories based upon the adventures of this famous Western character, and -to put them in a line called GREAT WESTERN LIBRARY, together with stories -about Buffalo Bill, by Col. Prentiss Ingraham.</p> - -<p>Thus, in this line two of the most famous of all American characters join hands. -The so-called society stories with a kick in them come and go, but these clean, wholesome -tales of the West give a clean-cut picture of the lives and characters of the men -who carried the advance banners of civilization westward.</p> - -<p>There are Indian stories, cowboy stories, outlaw stories, all sorts of stories of adventures -out West. Each one is clean and decent, even if it is thrilling.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</i></p> - -<dl> -<dt> 1—Diamond Dick’s Own Brand</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt> 2—Buffalo Bill’s Honor</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt> 3—Diamond Dick’s Maverick</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt> 4—Buffalo Bill’s Phantom Hunt</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt> 5—Diamond Dick’s Man Hunt</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt> 6—Buffalo Bill’s Fight with Fire</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt> 7—Diamond Dick’s Danger Signal</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt> 8—Buffalo Bill’s Danite Trail</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt> 9—Diamond Dick’s Prospect</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>10—Buffalo Bill’s Ranch Riders</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>11—Diamond Dick and the Gold Bugs</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>12—Buffalo Bill’s Death Trail</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>13—Diamond Dick at Comet City</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>14—Buffalo Bill’s Trackers</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>15—Diamond Dick and the Worthless Bonanza</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>16—Buffalo Bill’s Mid-air Flight</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>17—Diamond Dick’s Black List</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>18—Buffalo Bill, Ambassador</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>19—Diamond Dick and the Indian Outlaw</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>20—Buffalo Bill’s Air Voyage</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>21—Diamond Dick and Gentleman Jack</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>22—Buffalo Bill’s Secret Mission</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>23—Diamond Dick at Secret Pass</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>24—Buffalo Bill’s Long Trail</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>25—Diamond Dick’s Red Trailer</dt> -<dd>By W. B. Lawson</dd> -<dt>26—Buffalo Bill Against Odds</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -</dl> - -<p class="clear pt1">In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the books listed -below will be issued during the respective months in New York City and vicinity. -They may not reach the readers at a distance promptly, on account of delays in transportation.</p> - -<p class="center">To be published in January, 1928.</p> -<dl> -<dt>27—Buffalo Bill’s Bid for Fame</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>28—Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -</dl> - -<p class="center clear pt1">To be published in February, 1928.</p> -<dl> -<dt>29—Buffalo Bill’s Swoop</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>30—Buffalo Bill and the Gold King</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -</dl> - -<p class="center clear pt1">To be published in March, 1928.</p> -<dl> -<dt>31—Buffalo Bill’s Still Hunt</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>32—Buffalo Bill’s Traitor Guide</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -</dl> - -<p class="center clear pt1">To be published in April, 1928.</p> -<dl> -<dt>33—Buffalo Bill and the Doomed Dozen</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>34—Buffalo Bill’s Border Duel</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -</dl> - -<p class="center clear pt1">To be published in May, 1928.</p> -<dl> -<dt>35—Buffalo Bill’s Triumph</dt> -<dd> By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>36—Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>37—Buffalo Bill’s Prairie Scout</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -</dl> - -<p class="center clear pt1">To be published in June, 1928.</p> -<dl> -<dt>38—Buffalo Bill’s Death Call</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -<dt>39—Buffalo Bill’s Double Surprise</dt> -<dd>By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</dd> -</dl> -</div> - - - - -<div class="section"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<div class="tn"> -<p class="center">Transcriber’s Note:</p> - -<p class="noi">The Contents was added by the transcriber.</p> - -<p class="noi">Punctuation and hyphenation have been standardised. Brand names “Vichy” -and “Prestolite” have been presented without initial capitals as they -appear in the original publication. Spelling anomalies retained include -“onery”, “varmit” and “cuticule”, otherwise spelling has been retained -as published except as follows:</p> - -<ul> -<li>Page 5<br /> -streak of red admist a swirling cloud <i>changed to</i><br /> -streak of red <a href="#amidst">amidst</a> a swirling cloud</li> - -<li>Page 6<br /> -scarcely any preceptible slackening <i>changed to</i><br /> -scarcely any <a href="#perceptible">perceptible</a> slackening</li> - -<li>Page 9<br /> -heard the insistant ringing <i>changed to</i><br /> -heard the <a href="#insistent">insistent</a> ringing</li> - -<li>Page 11<br /> -in that dierction <i>changed to</i><br /> -in that <a href="#direction">direction</a></li> - -<li>Page 15<br /> -Stovebridge returned nonchanlantly <i>changed to</i><br /> -Stovebridge returned <a href="#nonchalantly">nonchalantly</a></li> - -<li>Page 17<br /> -haberdasher at Witlon <i>changed to</i><br /> -haberdasher at <a href="#wilton">Wilton</a></li> - -<li>Page 20<br /> -hesitated for an intsant <i>changed to</i><br /> -hesitated for an <a href="#instant">instant</a></li> - -<li>Page 23<br /> -malignent glare of hate <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#mal">malignant</a> glare of hate</li> - -<li>Page 23<br /> -with facinated horror <i>changed to</i><br /> -with <a href="#fascinated">fascinated</a> horror</li> - -<li>Page 25<br /> -were bowling allies, billiard <i>changed to</i><br /> -were bowling <a href="#alleys">alleys</a>, billiard</li> - -<li>Page 26<br /> -left here there <i>changed to</i><br /> -left <a href="#her">her</a> there</li> - -<li>Page 32<br /> -part of a converastion <i>changed to</i><br /> -part of a <a href="#conversation">conversation</a></li> - -<li>Page 33<br /> -it’s celar as day <i>changed to</i><br /> -it’s <a href="#clear">clear</a> as day</li> - -<li>Page 33<br /> -who’s car did <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#whose">whose</a> car did</li> - -<li>Page 36<br /> -in a preoccupied manned <i>changed to</i><br /> -in a preoccupied <a href="#manner">manner</a></li> - -<li>Page 45<br /> -Jim Hanlon glairng at him <i>changed to</i><br /> -Jim Hanlon <a href="#glaring">glaring</a> at him</li> - -<li>Page 45<br /> -imperceptible this lead increased <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#imperceptibly">imperceptibly</a> this lead increased</li> - -<li>Page 50<br /> -the other’s facinated <i>changed to</i><br /> -the other’s <a href="#fascinated2">fascinated</a></li> - -<li>Page 56<br /> -save his overweaning desire <i>changed to</i><br /> -save his <a href="#overweening">overweening</a> desire</li> - -<li>Page 57<br /> -to soak in the jaw <i>changed to</i><br /> -to <a href="#sock">sock</a> in the jaw</li> - -<li>Page 57<br /> -your going to settle down <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#youre">you’re</a> going to settle down</li> - -<li>Page 59<br /> -in the pitchy darkness <i>changed to</i><br /> -in the <a href="#pitch">pitch</a> darkness</li> - -<li>Page 59<br /> -abandoend his search <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#abandoned">abandoned</a> his search</li> - -<li>Page 69<br /> -great fear, as he he <i>changed to</i><br /> -great fear, as <a href="#he">he</a></li> - -<li>Page 71<br /> -supplimented Niles fiercely <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#supplemented2">supplemented</a> Niles fiercely</li> - -<li>Page 76<br /> -supplimented Niles <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#supplemented">supplemented</a> Niles</li> - -<li>Page 76<br /> -utter desolation and dispair <i>changed to</i><br /> -utter desolation and <a href="#despair">despair</a></li> - -<li>Page 79<br /> -Summing all his resolution <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#summoning">Summoning</a> all his resolution</li> - -<li>Page 95<br /> -with supressed anger <i>changed to</i><br /> -with <a href="#suppressed">suppressed</a> anger</li> - -<li>Page 96<br /> -came sizzing over the <i>changed to</i><br /> -came <a href="#sizzling">sizzling</a> over the</li> - -<li>Page 96<br /> -a little grimance of <i>changed to</i><br /> -a little <a href="#grimace">grimace</a> of</li> - -<li>Page 97<br /> -toward the culbhouse <i>changed to</i><br /> -toward the <a href="#clubhouse">clubhouse</a></li> - -<li>Page 100<br /> -Say’s there is no game <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#says">Says</a> there is no game</li> - -<li>Page 104<br /> -Take you hands <i>changed to</i><br /> -Take <a href="#your">your</a> hands</li> - -<li>Page 106<br /> -IN DOLAN’S CAFE <i>changed to</i><br /> -IN DOLAN’S <a href="#cafe">CAFÉ</a></li> - -<li>Page 107<br /> -But to the cheap sport of Forrest Hills <i>changed to</i><br /> -But to the cheap sport of <a href="#Forest">Forest</a> Hills</li> - -<li>Page 113<br /> -you’re pretty corky <i>changed to</i><br /> -you’re pretty <a href="#cocky">cocky</a></li> - -<li>Page 117<br /> -to think out their itineray <i>changed to</i><br /> -to think out their <a href="#itinerary">itinerary</a></li> - -<li>Page 120<br /> -stepped into the elvator <i>changed to</i><br /> -stepped into the <a href="#elevator">elevator</a></li> - -<li>Page 135<br /> -aroung the diamond <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#around">around</a> the diamond</li> - -<li>Page 143<br /> -shook his head in dispair <i>changed to</i><br /> -shook his head in <a href="#despair2">despair</a></li> - -<li>Page 145<br /> -inperceptible flash <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#imperceptible">imperceptible</a> flash</li> - -<li>Page 161<br /> -My dear Mr. Spreckels <i>changed to</i><br /> -My dear Mr. <a href="#Spreckles">Spreckles</a></li> - -<li>Page 165<br /> -a good New Engalnd family <i>changed to</i><br /> -a good New <a href="#England">England</a> family</li> - -<li>Page 171<br /> -keenly on Marcus Myer <i>changed to</i><br /> -keenly on Marcus <a href="#Meyer">Meyer</a></li> - -<li>Page 185<br /> -Beat it! Vamose! <i>changed to</i><br /> -Beat it! <a href="#Vamoose">Vamoose!</a></li> - -<li>Page 190<br /> -with its rugs and and pictures <i>changed to</i><br /> -with its rugs <a href="#and">and</a> pictures</li> - -<li>Page 202<br /> -no sound of footstps <i>changed to</i><br /> -no sound of <a href="#footsteps">footsteps</a></li> - -<li>Page 204<br /> -the man was uisng <i>changed to</i><br /> -the man was <a href="#using">using</a></li> - -<li>Page 216<br /> -flying it’s alway necessary <i>changed to</i><br /> -flying it’s <a href="#always">always</a> necessary</li> - -<li>Page 225<br /> -effort an almost irresistibel <i>changed to</i><br /> -effort an almost <a href="#irresistible">irresistible</a></li> - -<li>Page 228<br /> -ceased its revoluntions <i>changed to</i><br /> -ceased its <a href="#revolutions">revolutions</a></li> - -<li>Page 231<br /> -turned and loooked about <i>changed to</i><br /> -turned and <a href="#looked">looked</a> about</li> - -<li>Page 238<br /> -proceeded to make monkies of <i>changed to</i><br /> -proceeded to make <a href="#monkeys">monkeys</a> of</li> - -<li>Page 238<br /> -game, wining at will <i>changed to</i><br /> -game, <a href="#winning">winning</a> at will</li> - -<li>Page 269<br /> -crummed tobacco jammed <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#crumbed">crumbed</a> tobacco jammed</li> - -<li>Page 273<br /> -find acommodations here <i>changed to</i><br /> -find <a href="#accommodations">accommodations</a> here</li> - -<li>Page 274<br /> -glad she was that Chested <i>changed to</i><br /> -glad she was that <a href="#Chester">Chester</a></li> - -<li>Page 283<br /> -muttered Warwoop <i>changed to</i><br /> -muttered <a href="#Warwhoop">Warwhoop</a></li> - -<li>Page 293<br /> -was given a thump on the bungle <i>changed to</i><br /> -was given a thump on the <a href="#bugle">bugle</a></li> - -<li>Page 301<br /> -shrill warwooop that came <i>changed to</i><br /> -shrill <a href="#warwhoop2">warwhoop</a> that came</li> - -<li>Page v of the book lists at the end of the book does not -have a listing for 1139</li> - -<li>Page x of the book lists at the end of the book<br /> -Kidnaped By Robert Louis Stevenson <i>changed to</i><br /> -<a href="#Kidnapped">Kidnapped</a> By Robert Louis Stevenson</li> -</ul> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICK MERRIWELL’S AËRO DASH ***</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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