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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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