Frank Merriwell's Cruise
by Burt L. Standish · English · Gutenberg #22265 · 382,425 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Frank Merriwell's Cruise
Author: Burt L. Standish
Release date: August 8, 2007 [eBook #22265]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22265
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRANK MERRIWELL'S CRUISE ***
Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team
FRANK MERRIWELL'S CRUISE
BY BURT L. STANDISH
AUTHOR OF "Frank Merriwell's Schooldays," "Frank Merriwell's Chums,"
"Frank Merriwell's Foes," "Frank Merriwell's Trip West," etc.
PHILADELPHIA
DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER
604-8 SOUTH WASHINGTON SQUARE
Copyright, 1898
By STREET & SMITH
Frank Merriwell's Cruise
FRANK MERRIWELL'S CRUISE.
CHAPTER I.
THE MEETING IN BOSTON.
"MR. JOHN DIAMOND, Lexington, Pa.: If you wish cruise in down East
waters, join me Monday next at American Hotel, Boston. Have
purchased yacht. Hodge and Browning will be in party. Great sport
anticipated.
"MERRIWELL."
Jack Diamond was reclining in a hammock suspended in the shade of an
artificial arbor when this message from Frank Merriwell was handed to
him by a boy. He tore open the envelope and read it, his eyes beginning
to sparkle and a flush coming to his handsome, aristocratic face.
"Just like him!" exclaimed Jack. "Before leaving Fardale he aroused our
curiosity about that part of the country, and now he proposes taking us
down there in his own yacht. Will I go? Will I? I wouldn't miss it for
the world!"
It had not taken him a minute to decide.
* * * * *
A cab rattled up to the front of the American Hotel, on Hanover Street,
Boston, and stopped. The door flew open, and out stepped a smartly
dressed young man, wearing russet shoes, a light-colored box coat and a
brown Alpine hat. He carried a handsome alligator-skin traveling bag in
his hand.
Paying cabbie without speaking a word, this youth turned and walked into
the hotel. As he entered, a colored boy hastened forward and relieved
him of his traveling bag. He stepped up to the clerk's desk and said:
"I am Jack Diamond, of Virginia, and I wish to see Mr. Frank Merriwell,
who is stopping here."
"Yes, sir," said the clerk, politely. "Mr. Merriwell left orders that
you be shown up immediately on your arrival. Twenty-three, show Mr.
Diamond to Mr. Merriwell's rooms."
"Right this way, sah," said the colored boy.
Jack followed the uniformed bell boy, who paused at the elevator shaft
and pressed a button. In a moment the elevator came gliding noiselessly
down, the door slid open, a lady and a gentleman stepped out and Diamond
stepped in.
"Third," said the bell boy, and then he turned and disappeared, while
the elevator man closed the door and sent the car gliding upward. He
stopped at the third floor, and, to Jack's surprise, the bell boy with
the grip was there, calmly awaiting his arrival.
Jack followed him to the door of a room at the front of the house. As
the boy lifted his hand to knock at the door, there was a burst of
laughter within, plainly heard, as the transom was open, and Frank
Merriwell's voice cried:
"Hans, if you could tell that story on the stage just as you told it
then you would make your fortune."
"Vot vos der madder mit me?" exclaimed the voice of Hans Dunnerwust,
Frank's German friend. "Dot nefer vos a funny stories! You don'd seen
vot I larft ad! Dot peen a bathetic sdory. I oxbected you vould took
mein handkersheft oudt und cried id indo, but you sed roundt und laugh
ad dot bathetic sdory like I vos a lot of monkeys. You don't like dot as
vell as I might!"
Then there was another burst of laughter, and the knock of the bell boy
was not heard.
"Never mind," said Diamond, taking his traveling bag and giving the boy
a dime; "I'll go right in."
He opened the door and stepped into the room.
Hodge, Browning, Merriwell and Dunnerwust were there. Bart was tilted
back in a chair, with his feet on the table, while lazy Bruce was half
sitting and half reclining on a sofa. Frank sat astride a chair, looking
over the back of it at Hans, who had stood in the middle of the room as
he told his "bathetic sdory."
"Hello, fellows!" cried the lad from Virginia, heartily.
There was a shout of welcome. Frank sprang forward quickly and grasped
Diamond's hand.
"Delighted, old man!" laughed Merry. "I was afraid you wouldn't come
till I received your telegram stating that you would be on hand. Any
trouble in persuading the mother?"
"Not much, though she said it did seem that I might remain at home a
while longer, and she told me to tell you that she is beginning to get
jealous of you, as I spend so much of my time during vacations with
you."
"How you vos, Shack?" said Hans, getting hold of Diamond's free hand,
the latter having dropped his traveling bag. "I vos a sight vor sore
eyes, ain'd you! You don'd knew how dickled you vos to seen me."
Hodge came forward and shook hands, expressing his pleasure, and, with
sundry grunts, Browning succeeded in getting upon his feet, saying as he
rose:
"Suppose I'll have to stand to shake, or you'll challenge me. You
Southerners are so confoundedly particular about courtesy and all that."
Jack smiled.
"I know you too well to resent it if you lay on your back and offered to
shake hands with me. In fact, it surprises me to discover you hadn't
rather fight a duel after you were obliged to get up than to get up when
not absolutely forced to do so."
"What baggage did you bring?" asked Merry.
"A trunk. It will be brought to the hotel here."
"There is no room for trunks on board the _White Wings_," said Frank.
"You'll have to store your trunk and such stuff as you do not absolutely
need till we get back here."
"The _White Wings_? Is that the name of your yacht?"
"Yes."
"Good name. How did you happen to buy a yacht?"
"Got a bargain of her. I came on to Boston with Miss Burrage, whose aunt
was waiting here for her. I met Jack Benjamin. You remember him?"
"Harvard man?"
"Yes."
"Plays football?"
"Yes."
"I remember him. His sister is a stunningly handsome girl."
"Huah!" grunted Browning. "That explains how you happen to remember
him."
"Well," Frank went on. "Benjamin turned out to be a fine fellow. Invited
me over to his house, treated me beautifully. He knows a lot of sporty
chaps. Among them was Walter Pringle, who owned this yacht. Pringle took
a party of us out for a cruise down the bay, and we had a grand time.
Went to Nantasket. Coming back Pringle said he had planned to cruise
down to the eastward this summer with a party of friends, but something
had come up that knocked out the arrangement. Then it was that I thought
of a talk we once had while at Fardale about making a cruise down along
the Maine coast, and I spoke of it. Said I'd like to own his yacht. Saw
Pringle looked a little queer. He stared at me a few moments, and then
asked what I would give for the _White Wings_. I questioned him some
about her, and then made an offer. He didn't take me up, but the next
day he came and told me the yacht was mine. I was astonished, for I
didn't offer much more than one-half what she is really worth. But he
said he must have the money without delay, as he was going to get out of
Boston in a hurry. I dispatched Prof. Scotch, and he wired me the
amount. I bought the boat, and now I hear Pringle has left for Seattle,
on his way to Alaska. His father is hot over it, for he didn't want his
son to go. Pringle had the fever, and he sold the yacht in a hurry to
raise money to go with. I have a bargain. We can make our cruise, and
then, when it is over, by looking about, I'll be able to get rid of the
_White Wings_ for more than I paid for her."
"Are you sure the transaction is all right?" asked Diamond.
"All right? How do you mean?"
"Why, strictly on the level. Pringle is not a minor?"
"No," grunted Browning; "but he has gone to be a miner."
"Here! here!" cried Frank, quickly; "that won't do. It's prohibited."
"It may be when we get on board the _White Wings_, but we're ashore now,
and you are not Capt. Merriwell yet."
"Pringle is twenty-one," said Frank, answering Diamond's question. "He
is all right."
"And he was sole owner of the yacht? He had the right to sell her?"
"Of course. Benjamin told me Pringle was strictly on the level."
"Well, you're always lucky!" exclaimed the lad from Virginia. "Now you
will get the fun of this cruise, and, when it is over, you'll be likely
to sell the yacht for enough so that you will come out ahead on the
whole deal, expenses included."
"I hope to," acknowledged Frank, laughing. "I considered it a snap, but
that was not why I wanted the boat. I wanted to make the cruise with my
friends. Here are five of us, and that is all the _White Wings_ will
carry with absolute comfort. There is plenty of room for us. We'll make
a jolly cruise of it, fellows, and I don't believe we'll ever regret
going. I have the boat stocked with provisions, and some Jew tailors up
by Scollay Square are at work on uniforms for four of us. We'll go out
right away, Jack, and you shall be measured for yours. Come on."
CHAPTER II.
INZA AND PAULA.
Frank and Jack left the American House and turned toward Scollay Square.
"These tailors are rushers," said Merry. "They have made a reputation by
turning out work in short order. That is why we ordered the suits of
them. You know we sail to-morrow morning."
"What? Not to-morrow?"
"Sure."
"Well, they will not have time to make up a suit for me."
"Oh, yes, they will."
"Impossible."
"Not at all, old man. They will get the work out in a hurry, as I shall
pay them to do it."
"But I never heard of such a thing."
"Possibly not. You are in Boston now. In Virginia they require more time
to accomplish anything. Down in this part of the country things move."
Diamond could hardly believe that he could obtain a suit to order in
such a short time.
They came to Scollay Square, into which trolley cars were pouring from
various sections, and soon they reached the store of the Jew tailors. It
was a large store, and at least a dozen customers were looking over
samples, striking bargains or being measured. However, the boys were not
forced to wait, for one of the proprietors came forward, greeted Frank
by name, and said:
"Your order will be ready for you on time, Mr. Merriwell."
"We sail at nine o'clock to-morrow morning," said Frank. "Here is a
friend of mine who will require a suit like the others."
"That is crowding us somewhat, sir," smiled the tailor. "I hardly think
we can----"
"I will pay five dollars extra if the suit is delivered at the American
House at six o'clock in the morning," said Frank, quietly.
"Very well, sir. I think that will cover the extra expense of rushing it
through. If the gentleman will step back this way, his measure will be
taken."
So Jack was measured, and, ten minutes after entering the store, the
boys left it.
"He didn't even ask a deposit of you, Merry," said Jack, in surprise.
"No. Benjamin vouched for me, and that was all that was necessary. No
deposit was required under such circumstances."
"What if he fails to get the suits round on time?"
"He won't. He wouldn't want them left on his hands."
Frank's confidence reassured Jack, and they strolled over toward Tremont
Street and finally came out at the Common.
"I'd like to have a little time to look Boston over?" said Jack.
"You can do that when we come back. If you were to stop long enough to
take in all the interesting sights, we wouldn't get down into Maine this
summer. I want to spend a little more time in Boston, although I have
seen Faneuil Hall, the new Public Library Building, the Old South
Church, Bunker Hill Monument and a hundred other interesting things. The
business portion of Boston is not particularly attractive, but the
suburbs and the aristocratic dwelling sections are beautiful."
They walked across the Common to the Public Gardens, then turned round
and strolled back. From Tremont Row they went down Temple Street to
Washington, and just as they reached Jordan, Marsh & Co.'s store, two
girls stepped out upon the sidewalk and came face to face with them.
"Miss Burrage!" exclaimed Diamond, lifting his hat.
"Inza!" cried Frank, also lifting his hat. "Miss Benjamin, too! This is
an unexpected pleasure. Miss Benjamin, permit me to present a particular
friend of mine, Mr. Jack Diamond, of Virginia."
Paula Benjamin was a pretty girl. Her eyes met Jack's, and she showed
her pearly teeth in a most bewitching smile as she bowed, saying:
"I have heard of Mr. Diamond."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Jack. "I was not aware I was quite as famous."
"Yes. My brother mentioned you. Perhaps you know something of him--his
name is Jack. He plays on the Harvard eleven."
"And he spoke of me? That is surprising. Don't see what he could have
said about me."
"I don't believe I will tell," laughed the girl, and her manner aroused
all of the Virginian's curiosity.
"Please tell," he urged, smiling.
"Well," hesitated Paula, still laughing, "before the game on Jarvis
Field, he said you were fool enough to think Frank Merriwell could beat
the whole Harvard eleven. After the game he said you weren't half the
fool he took you for."
This caused them all to laugh, and, as the street was crowded, they
strolled on together.
"Oh, Frank!" exclaimed Inza; "you can't guess what we are going to do!"
"Then I will give it up without trying. What is it?"
"Paula and I are going to Bar Harbor."
"What?"
"It's true."
"I am astonished!"
"I knew you would be. We've been talking about it, you know--saying we'd
like to go. Yesterday Paula had a letter from her cousin, who is
spending the summer down there. Her cousin urged her to come. Paula's
mother said it was impossible, as two girls like us should not be
traveling about alone. Then Aunt Abigail said she'd like to spend a week
or two in Bar Harbor herself, and she volunteered to chaperone us. After
a while, Paula obtained her mother's consent, and we take the Bangor
boat for Rockland to-morrow night."
"By Jove, this is interesting! We'll have to run in to Bar Harbor and
see you on our cruise. I didn't suppose we would see much of each other
after leaving Fardale."
"I didn't know as you would care about that," said Inza, carelessly.
"Care!" exclaimed Frank. "You should know I would care. How can you say
anything like that! What made you imagine I wouldn't care?"
"Oh, something!"
"Something! What was it? Tell me, Inza."
"Sometime--perhaps."
"Tell me now," urged Frank, in his masterful way. "During the last of my
stay in Fardale I noticed a change in your treatment of me, Inza."
"Did you?" she murmured, lifting her eyebrows.
"Yes. You were cold toward me, and you seemed to shun me. If I tried to
be friendly, as in the old days, you would not give me the opportunity.
I did not understand it."
"That is singular. The reason was plain enough."
"If so, I must have been thick-witted."
"Elsie Bellwood was there."
"Yes."
"I read your secret. You made your choice between us."
Frank was astounded.
"Choice? What can you mean, Inza? I did not make any choice."
"Oh, but you did!"
"If you say so--but I--really----"
"You made your choice that time when the boat upset, and we were
struggling in the water, Elsie and I. You plunged in to her rescue. I
was quite as near to you as was Elsie--nearer, if anything."
Frank caught his breath, beginning to realize what she meant. Inza went
on:
"You swam to Elsie's rescue--you saved her. That was the test. I brought
it about, for I upset the boat intentionally to settle the point. I
wanted to know which one of us you cared the most for--and I found out!"
It was like her, Frank realized that. He knew she was telling the truth
when she said she upset the boat intentionally.
"But you--you could swim some, Inza. I knew it."
"Did you know Elsie could not swim?"
"N--no."
"She is the daughter of a sea captain, and she has been with him on many
voyages. There was every reason to suppose that she could swim quite as
well as I--or better. No, Frank, you made your choice between us that
day. It's all right," and she forced a laugh that was not very musical.
"I don't deny that, at one time, I did think more of you than any other
fellow. There was every reason why I should. You saved me from a mad
dog, saved me from death beneath a railroad engine, saved me from
drowning. But I am not a fool, if I am a girl! I have not been taking
stock in all the passionate love stories I have read. I got out of the
way. I remained Elsie's friend, for she is the sweetest girl I know. I
don't blame you for thinking more of her than you do of me."
"Inza!"
Frank uttered the word in protest; it was all he could say.
"You can't deny it, so don't try," came almost harshly from the girl.
"It's all right. We're still friends. We'll always be friends--nothing
more. Sometime I'll be bridesmaid at the wedding, and----"
But Frank had heard enough, and he stopped her.
"I am not likely to marry anyone very soon," he said. "Elsie knows that.
Let's talk about something else. How did it happen we met you?"
Inza seemed willing enough to permit the conversation to be turned into
another channel.
"We were out shopping, you know--making our last purchases before
starting for Bar Harbor. You must take us out on your yacht after we all
get down there."
"I'll do it. Your aunt----"
"Oh, she will not object. You know she thinks you the finest fellow in
all the world. She will come along."
At last the boys were forced to part from the girls, but Jack had made
such progress with Paula that she offered him her hand at parting,
saying laughingly:
"Next fall you will not pick the winner if you pick Yale, even if Mr.
Merriwell is on that eleven. If you want to keep your record for wisdom,
be careful."
"Jove!" exclaimed Jack, after they had seen the girls on board a car.
"She's a way-upper, Merry!"
"She's a good sample of the Boston girl."
"Eh? Where's her glasses?"
"You have been reading the comic papers."
"She didn't mention Emerson or Browning."
"And that surprised you?"
"Why, I didn't suppose the genuine Boston girl could talk ten minutes
without doing so."
"Boston girls are very much like other nice girls, old man. They are
well educated, refined and all that, but they are not always quoting
Emerson and Browning, they do not all wear glasses, they are not all
cold and freezing and they are handsome."
They came to Cornhill. A car was coming down from Scollay Square, and
they paused close to it to let it swing out upon Washington Street.
Just as the front of the car approached, Frank Merriwell received a push
from behind that sent him flat upon the track directly in front of the
car wheels!
That particular car did not have a fender, and it seemed that Frank must
be mangled beneath the wheels. The motorman saw the lad go down and put
on the brake hard, but he could not stop the car in time.
Frank realized that he had been pushed upon the track by some one whose
deliberate purpose it was to maim or murder him, but he could not save
himself. He struck the paving, and the iron wheels seemed right upon
him.
But Jack Diamond moved with marvelous quickness. He made a grasp at
Frank as the latter fell, almost caught him, then stooped, grasped his
coat and yanked Merry from the track.
The car brushed Frank as it passed, but he was not injured.
"Thank you, old man," said Merriwell, as he quickly rose to his feet.
"You saved me that time. But who pushed me?"
They looked about. A small crowd had witnessed Frank's peril and
gathered. In the crowd was a person slipping away. With a bound Frank
was after him, caught him by the shoulder, swung him to get a look at
his face.
"Get out!"
The fellow snarled the words and struck at Frank's face with his
clinched hand.
Frank dodged.
"Wat Snell!" he cried, astounded.
"Yes, Wat Snell!" grated the other, who was a boy well known to him--a
boy who had been his enemy years before at Fardale Academy, when they
both went to school.
"You pushed me!" accused Frank.
"You lie! I did not touch you! You fell."
"I felt you push me, you miserable dog!"
"Don't dare talk like that to me!" hissed Snell. "I'll have you----"
"What! You don't dare do anything that is cowardly and treacherous! You
did push me!"
"That's right!" exclaimed a boy. "I seen him do it!"
There was a murmur from the crowd that began to gather about. Black
looks were directed toward Snell.
"He ought to be lynched!" blustered a little old man.
Then there were threats, and Snell grew pale, looking around for some
means of escape. He saw accusing and angry faces on all sides, and he
quailed and trembled.
"It was an accident," he whined, humbly. "I ran against you by accident.
I'll swear I didn't recognize you, and I didn't mean you any harm."
"Call an officer!" cried the little old man. "It was an attempt at
murder! Have him taken care of!"
With a gasp, Snell plunged through the crowd and took to his heels. Some
tried to stop him, but he ran like a deer up Cornhill. There was a short
pursuit, but the fellow doubled and dodged, escaping his pursuers.
"Let him go," said Frank. "I wouldn't make a charge against him, for it
would detain me, and we must get away in the morning, wind and weather
permitting."
"He ought to be punished," said Diamond. "He tried to kill you."
"It isn't the first time he has tried to do something to me. We are old,
old foes."
"Why, I supposed him in Fardale."
"So did I."
"It's singular he's here in Boston."
"Rather."
"What is the meaning of it?"
"I can't tell. Don't ask me. He bobs up anywhere. Anyhow, we're not
liable to see him again for some time after we leave here to-morrow."
They returned to the hotel and told the others of their adventures. All
the boys were astonished to learn that Wat Snell was in the city.
CHAPTER III.
A HOODOOED YACHT.
Promptly at six o'clock the following morning the uniforms were
delivered at the American House. Without delay the boys put them on, and
they proved satisfactory in every way, so Frank paid the bill and the
messenger who brought them departed satisfied.
The boys ate an early breakfast, and all had good appetites. The
American House dining room is rather somber, but they joked and laughed
in the best of spirits.
After breakfast final arrangements for the care of their baggage were
made, then a cab was ordered, and they all piled in and were rattled
away toward Atlantic Avenue.
Jack had not seen Frank's yacht, and he was curious, concerning her
appearance.
Not far from the pier of the Bangor boat lay the _White Wings_, guarded
by a watchman, who saluted Merriwell as the boys went aboard.
The _White Wings_ was a sloop yacht with club and jib topsails. She was
not large, and it did not strike Diamond that she would prove to be
fast, but she looked comfortable, and comfort was what they sought. They
were not thinking of racing.
Frank paid the watchman for his services, and gave him something extra,
whereupon the man departed greatly satisfied.
"Come, fellows," called Merry; "we'll go below and see how she looks
down there."
They descended into the cabin, which was locked, Merry having the key.
Jack was astonished when they entered the cabin, for it was far more
roomy than he had supposed possible. A glimpse at the curtained berths
showed there was plenty of sleeping room for all of them. There was a
folding table, an oil stove, comfortable seats on the lockers, and
everything looked inviting. Four handsome repeating shotguns and a
magazine rifle hung above the lockers.
"How does she look down here, fellows?" asked Frank.
"She looks all right," grunted Browning, as he lazily rolled into one of
the bunks. "Excuse me. I want to see what kind of a place I'll be stowed
in when I am seasick."
"What do you think you'll do with those guns, Frank?" asked Jack.
"Can't tell," smiled Frank. "Remember, we are going down into Maine."
"Yes, but you told us Maine was a civilized State. From your talk when
we discussed the matter I didn't suppose guns would be needed down
there."
"Is Virginia civilized?"
"Well, rather."
"Ever find anything to shoot up in the mountain region?"
"Oh, yes; but----"
"That's all. New York is civilized, but there are bears and deer in the
Adirondacks."
"Well, I didn't know we were going anywhere near a portion of Maine
where there was game."
"Can't tell where we may go."
"Besides, if they have game laws down there, it must be close time for
hunting."
"It is, but, all the same, it will be a good scheme to have these guns
along. We're going to rough it a great deal, and we may need them. I
have brought all sorts of rigs for fishing, and I have two tents on
board. My idea, gentlemen, is to make this a regular outing trip, and,
when we are not on board the _White Wings_, we do not want to spend our
time in hotels."
"Not much," nodded Hodge.
"Say, Merriwell," cried Diamond, in admiration, "you are a dandy. You
have planned all our outings for the past two years, and we have had
sport galore; but what makes me sore is the fact that you pay all the
bills."
A truck team came rumbling down onto the wharf, and Hodge looked around.
"Baggage," he called.
A truckman had arrived with their luggage from the hotel. The boys,
excepting Browning, went on deck and brought the stuff aboard.
As Frank was settling with the truckman, the latter said:
"I wish you good luck, young man, but I doubt if you'll have it taking a
cruise in that craft."
"Why is that?" asked Merry. "What is the matter with that craft?"
"Well, sir, they do say as how she is hoodooed."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, sir. Everybody as has owned her in the last two years has had hard
luck."
"This is interesting."
"I hauled her first load of provisions, and I have known her a long
time. On her trial cruise she capsized before she got out of the
harbor."
"Is that all?"
"Hardly. Her first owner committed suicide on board of her--cut his
throat down below. They say she has been haunted by his spook ever
since."
Merry laughed.
"This is decidedly interesting. I'd have given more for her if I had
known she owned a spook. I am very fond of spooks. They are
interesting."
"Boo!" shivered the truckman. "Don't want none in mine."
"Have you told me all the unlucky things that have happened to the
_White Wings_?"
"No. Next fellow that owned her ran down a rowboat and drowned a boy.
Then he put her on top of a ledge, but got her off without doing her
much damage. He sold her for a song."
"What happened next?"
"Next fellow as owned her went crazy and is in an asylum. They say he
saw the spook go through the suicide act in the cabin, and that was what
crazed him."
"The interest increases. The horrors are piling up. Anything more?"
"Benjamin owned her next."
"Anything happen to him?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"He got the Klondike fever."
"That all?"
"Ain't that enough? He's run away to Alaska, and his father's rich as
mud. He didn't have no need to go up there into that infernally cold
region and freeze and starve. His old man's so mad he threatens to cut
him off."
"Well," laughed Frank, "the _White Wings_ is mine now, and I don't fancy
all the spooks of the infernal regions could scare me away from her. In
fact, I'd rather enjoy having a call from a few spooks."
"You'll have some kind of bad luck," declared the truckman, as he
prepared to go. "I don't like to tell you that, but I think you oughter
be looking out."
A young man with a small, curly, black mustache came hurrying onto the
pier. He was well dressed and carried a cane. He came straight up to
Frank and the truckman.
"Where is the person known as Frank Merriwell?" he asked.
"I am Frank Merriwell," Merry answered. "What can I do for you?"
"You are the chap I want to see," said the stranger. "I understand you
bought the _White Wings_ of Jack Benjamin?"
"I did, sir."
"And he sold it to you as clear and free of encumbrance?"
"He did."
"He beat you."
"How is that?"
"I hold a bill of sale of that yacht, and I am here to claim it as my
property!" was the answer.
Frank was surprised.
The truckman slapped his hand against his hip and muttered:
"I told him! The thing is hoodooed! Anybody as has anything to do with
it is bound to buck against hard luck."
"This is rather surprising information," said Frank Merriwell, speaking
with the utmost calmness, while he studied the face of the stranger with
piercing eyes. "I hardly understand it. I believe Jack Benjamin has the
reputation in Boston of being on the level, and so I hardly understand a
piece of business like this."
"Perhaps Benjamin was stuck, found it out, and got out of the hole the
best way he could."
"How do you mean?"
"Perhaps at the time he bought the boat, he didn't know I held the bill
of sale of her."
Frank started.
"Ha!" he exclaimed. "Then Benjamin did not give you the bill of sale?"
"No. Chap that owned her before that did. His name is Fearson."
"Fearson? Is he the one who went crazy?"
"The very same," put in the truckman.
"When did he give you this bill of sale?"
"Don't remember the exact date."
"The bill will show."
"Sure. Why do you want to know?"
"I want to find out if he gave it to you before a certain time. That's
all."
The strange claimant of the yacht was suspicious.
"I don't see the point," he said. "I hold the bill, and I claim the
yacht. Just found out what Benjamin had done, and I came down in a
hurry, after getting track of the boat, to warn you not to try to move
her. I won't have it."
It began to look like a scrape, but Frank was not flustered in the
least. He kept his head, saying:
"Have you the bill of sale with you, sir?"
"Yes."
"Will you be kind enough to permit me to look at it?"
The stranger started to do so, but seemed to change his mind of a
sudden, and said:
"No, I won't bother. I tell you not to move her. If you do, I'll make
you pay a big sum for damages, so look out."
Frank smiled sweetly.
"That is a very silly threat," he murmured. "If you do not show me the
document I shall not believe it exists."
"That doesn't make any difference to----"
"It makes this difference: It is now twenty minutes to nine. At nine I
shall cast off from the pier. Wind and tide being right, it will not
take me long to get out of the harbor."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"What is there to dare? I fail to see anything."
"Why, confound you! I'd make you smart for it!"
"You couldn't. You have made a lot of bluffing talk about holding a bill
of sale, but I do not take any stock in that till you produce the
document. I have purchased this yacht, and, as long as I believe myself
her rightful owner, I shall do with her as I see fit. At nine o'clock
she sails."
The fellow hesitated, and then snapped out:
"Oh, I can prove to you that I am not lying. I will prove it. Here is
the bill--see for yourself."
He took a number of papers from his pocket, and selected one among them,
which he opened and held before Frank. Merriwell looked the document
over carefully. It was a bill of sale of the yacht _White Wings_ from
Fergus Fearson to Parker Flynn.
"Is your name Parker Flynn?" asked Frank.
"It is."
"And you bought the yacht of Fearson?"
"You bet!" nodded the claimant, triumphantly. "I rather think this
document settles it."
"It does," nodded Frank, quietly. Then he turned to the truckman, and
asked:
"When was Mr. Fearson committed to the asylum?"
"The latter part of May."
"And this bill is dated May 21st. The fellow must have been deranged
then."
"Oh, you can't make that go!" cried Flynn, quickly. "It's no use for
you to try to crawl out of a little hole like that."
"Why have you not claimed the yacht before? Holding this bill, why
didn't you claim it while it was in Benjamin's possession? Answer that
question!"
"I was away--out of the city," faltered Flynn.
"All the time?"
"Most of the time."
"Very well. Here is your bill. I advise you to destroy it without delay,
or it may get you into serious trouble."
"What?" cried the man, angrily. "Destroy it? I'll have that yacht. This
bill gives me the right to it."
"That bill gives you the right to nothing!" came clearly and distinctly
from Merriwell's lips. "Either you have been badly fooled or you are a
rascal trying to obtain property that you have not the slightest claim
upon. It looks as if the latter were the real condition of affairs.
Fergus Fearson is confined in a madhouse, and so he cannot deny that he
ever gave you a bill of sale of this yacht."
"Deny it? Here is his signature!"
"And that may be forgery! I tell you to be careful!"
"It is not forgery! It is genuine! Your bluff will not go, sir! The
yacht is mine, and I will have her."
"Even if the signature is genuine, the bill is not worth the paper it's
written on!" declared Merriwell, with the utmost coolness.
"More bluffing! You are crazy! Why isn't it good?"
"Because it is dated May 21st."
"What of that?"
"The date is exactly four days after John Benjamin purchased and paid
for this yacht, as I can prove by documents in existence. If Fergus
Fearson sold you the _White Wings_ on May 21st, he sold you property
that did not belong to him. That's all, Mr. Flynn."
The claimant of the yacht turned pale and stared at the bill and then at
Frank, who was standing there so coolly before him.
On the deck of the yacht were three boys who had heard the most of the
conversation. Now Hodge exultantly exclaimed:
"That was a body blow! Merry has floored him!"
"That's right," nodded Diamond. "Frank has the best of it, but it did
seem that we were in a scrape."
Flynn gasped for breath.
"I don't believe it!" he cried. "The boat is mine, so don't dare cast
off from this pier."
"The _White Wings_ sails at nine o'clock," said Frank, turning away.
Flynn's face, that had been so pale, flushed and turned purple with
anger. All at once, he lifted his walking stick to bring it down on
Merry's head.
A cry from the boys on the yacht warned Merriwell, who ducked and
dodged--just in time.
Whizz!--the cane cut through the air, but Merry was not touched.
Quick as thought, Frank turned and grappled with Parker Flynn. He
wrenched away the cane, and, with a quick motion, broke it across his
knee. Then, as he coolly tossed it into the water, he said:
"If you try any more funny business, sir, you'll follow your cane."
"Oh, I'll fix you!" Flynn almost screamed. "I'll get a warrant for you!
I'll be back in a hurry! Don't dare leave before I return!"
He dashed away on the run.
"I told you you would have bad luck," said the truckman. "It's begun."
"Oh, I don't know!" laughed Frank. "If Flynn paid money for the yacht,
he is the one in hard luck."
At nine o'clock the _White Wings_ cast off from the pier. Her sails were
hoisted, and, aided by the out-running tide, she soon got away enough to
catch a breeze.
And Parker Flynn had not returned.
CHAPTER IV.
IN THE FOG.
"It's no use, fellows, we can't go any further in this fog to-night,"
said Frank Merriwell on the fourth day after leaving Boston.
"We must go farther!" exclaimed Diamond. "There is no anchorage here."
"How do you know? We haven't tried for it."
"But we are not in a harbor."
"No. We are somewhere near the Whitehead Islands, near the mouth of
Penobscot Bay."
"Well, let's keep on as long as there is a breath of wind. I don't fancy
anchoring here. We might be run down in the night."
"And, if we keep on, the chances are two to one that we'll run onto a
reef or pile up on an island. I had much rather take the chances of
anchoring here and being run down. The wind is dying out, and this fog
is shutting down thicker and thicker."
"Well," said Jack, in a dissatisfied way, "this is your boat and you are
in command. You can do as you like."
"I'll do as the majority believes best."
"Then anchor," grunted Browning. "I don't fancy this prowling about in
the fog."
Hodge was in favor of anchoring, and Hans agreed with them, so Jack was
the only one who felt like going on. He gave up in disgust.
While they were talking the last faint breeze had fallen swiftly, and,
by the time it was definitely decided, the _White Wings_ lay becalmed,
rolling helplessly on the swells that came in from the open sea.
"Shimminy Gristmas!" groaned Hans. "I don't like dot roll up und drop
avay motions. Id makes me feel sick to your stomach."
"You will get enough of that as long as we remain anchored out here,"
said Diamond, unpleasantly.
Frank gave the orders, and down came the sails. A sounding showed they
could anchor without trouble, and then the anchor was cast. The sails
were not reefed, for it was not known when they might be required.
Arrangements were made for raising them on short notice.
Night came down swiftly. Lights were set, but the boys felt that a light
was poor protection for them in that darkness and fog.
"If we are in the course of the steamers we'll be run down," grumbled
Jack.
"There'll have to be a regular watch to-night," declared Frank; "and the
fog horn must be used."
Browning had managed to crawl on deck, and he looked disconsolate and
disgusted.
"This is what they call a life on the ocean wave," he grunted. "Oh, it
is more fun than a minstrel show!"
"We'll have to put up with some discomforts," said Merriwell.
"We made a mistake in coming further east than Portland," put in Jack.
"That was a good place to stop."
"Wait till the sun comes out to-morrow and we run into Rockland Harbor,"
laughed the owner of the _White Wings_. "You will change your tune."
"Well, I hope so."
Hans was given the first watch, and he remained on deck while the others
went below and had supper. At intervals he blew a blast on the horn,
which sounded like some lost animal bellowing in the fog.
Frank laughed and joked, and he succeeded in putting the others in
better spirits after a time. It was comfortable in the cabin, despite
the fog outside.
Hodge made coffee, and the smell of it as it bubbled over the blaze of
the oil stove gave all of them a ravenous feeling of hunger. The little
folding table was let down and spread, and the sight of the food and
smell of the coffee took their minds off the unpleasantness of their
situation.
"It was a foolhardy thing running down here without somebody who knew
the coast," said Jack.
"My dear fellow," smiled Frank, "we have our chart and compass, and I
know a little something about navigation. Quit your worrying. I'll land
you in Rockland to-morrow all right."
"You were going to land us there to-day."
"And so I would had the wind held right and this fog kept off."
"I believe there is a fog factory down this way somewhere," said
Browning.
Hodge announced that supper was ready, and they gathered about the
table. The _White Wings_ was riding on a steady, regular swell, so they
were not shaken up down there, and they found they could eat without
discomfort. Browning was hungry as a bear, and he "pitched into the
spread."
"Well, I don't know as this is too bad after all," he confessed, taking
a third slice of tongue. "We've been in worse places."
"That's right," nodded Hodge. "Pass the sugar. I want a little of this
coffee myself. I made it."
"The coffee is good," acknowledged Jack. "It warms a fellow up. A little
grog wouldn't go bad in a case like this."
"There is no grog on this boat and will not be as long as I own her,"
declared Merriwell. "It's a foolish thing for a lot of fellows on a
cruise like this to think that they must have grog."
"Oh, I didn't suppose you had any on board, Merriwell," said Diamond. "I
know your temperance principles too well to look for anything like
that."
By the time they finished eating all were in much better spirits. No one
but Hans had been troubled with seasickness thus far on the cruise, and
the Dutch boy had not been very sick.
Hans was called down to eat, and Bart took his place while he was below.
"Uf I can haf some of dot coffee id vill done you goot," said the Dutch
lad. "I don'd pelief I vant to ead much. Mein stomach felt like id don'd
been aple to held much uf a loadt. Yaw!"
So Hans drank some coffee and ate a little hard bread, after which he
returned to his duties on deck, having donned a suit of oil clothes.
Frank got out his guitar and put it in tune.
"That's right, Merry," grunted Browning, rolling into his bunk. "Give us
a song to cheer us up."
"What shall I sing?"
"Some of the old college songs."
"They'll make me homesick," said Diamond.
"It's a pleasant thing to feel homesick for Old Yale," murmured Frank.
"Dear Old Yale!"
"Give us 'Stars of the Summer Night,'" urged Hodge.
So Frank sang the song that has sounded beneath the elms at Yale so many
times. It was a beautiful song, and it awakened in the memories of the
listening lads thoughts of the gay times at college, the moonlight
nights, the roistering lads, the lighted windows of the Quad and the
groups gathered at the Fence.
Jack brushed his eyes.
"Don't sing anything more like that," he urged. "Make it something
lively--'Solomon Levi,' or any old thing."
So "Solomon Levi" followed, and they all joined in on the chorus. Other
lively songs were sung, and, by the time Frank put aside the guitar all
were in fairly good spirits.
Merriwell arranged the program of standing watch. Hans was relieved
before they turned in.
All through the night they took turns at standing watch and blowing away
at intervals on the fog horn. And the night passed quickly enough
without event.
When morning came, however, the fog still hung on the surface of the
water. They ate a light breakfast, and Frank fell to walking the deck
impatiently.
"If there was a breeze, this fog would be liable to lift," he said. "It
is disgusting."
After a little a light breeze rose, but it did not clear away the fog
entirely. However, the coming of the sun had some effect on it, and it
was not long before Merry decided to get up anchor and run up the sails.
The anchor was hoisted and the sails set. Frank took the wheel.
During the night the old swell had run out. Frank had studied his chart
till he believed he knew about where they lay, and he set his course by
the compass.
Not ten minutes after getting under way they found they were headed
straight for an island. In their vicinity the fog was not heavy, but out
beyond the island lay a bank of it.
Immediately on sighting the island, Frank changed the course of the
yacht, bringing her almost about. Then he ran out past the island,
headed for the fog bank.
All at once there was a strange sound, a roaring swish of water. Not one
of them was certain which direction the sound came from.
"Vot dot vos?" exclaimed Hans, in alarm.
"Keep still!" ordered Frank.
The sounds grew louder.
Then, all at once, Hans flung up his hands and shouted:
"Reef your rudder, Vrankie! You vos running a sdeampoat ofer us!"
Out of the fog bank, just ahead, came a large side-wheel steamer, headed
straight toward them!
Frank sighted the steamer at the same moment Hans saw it, and he
realized their peril. It was the Boston boat, _City of Bangor_, on its
course up the bay.
In the twinkling of an eye, Merriwell threw the wheel over and over, the
_White Wings_ swung to port, but headed straight across the course of
the great steamer.
Hoo-oo-oot! hoo-oo-oot! hoo-oo-oot! sounded the hoarse warning whistle
from the steamer.
"If you had been whistling through that fog bank all would have been
right," muttered Merriwell, through his set teeth. "Now, if you run me
down, you'll pay for this yacht!"
There was a jangling sound of a bell on board the steamer, and the pilot
in the pilot house was seen to send his wheel spinning over with frantic
haste at the same moment that the headway of the steamer grew less.
"Will she clear us?" cried Hodge.
"She is bound to cut us in two!" shouted Diamond. "There isn't breeze
enough for us to get out of her way!"
"Vere vos der life breserfers?" squawked Hans. "I vant to got me onto a
life-breserfer a hurry in!"
The Dutch lad made a headlong leap for the companion way. At the head of
the steps he stubbed his toe and down he went head first.
It happened that Bruce Browning had heard the commotion on deck, and,
strange to relate, it had aroused him so that he was coming up.
Bruce had just started to go above when Hans came flying through the air
like a huge toad, struck him full and fair, and both went down in a heap
on the cabin floor.
"Dot seddles id!" yelled the frightened Dutch lad. "Der yocht vos
sunkin' und I vos a goner!"
"You blundering Dutch chump!" gasped Bruce, when he could catch his
breath. "What is the matter?"
"Didn't you toldt me der yocht vos sunkin'?" shrieked Hans. "Id haf run
ofer a pig sdeampoat! Uf you kept myseluf drownting from I vill haf to
got oudt und valk ashore!"
Browning managed to get himself together and rise to his feet. Then he
hurried up the companion way and reached the deck just in time to see
the huge white hull of a steamboat looming above the yacht.
But Merriwell's prompt action and steady nerve had saved the _White
Wings_, for the steamer, with motionless paddlewheels, was slipping
past, the yacht having cut square across her course.
It was a close shave, and a few white faces looked over the forward
starboard rail of the huge steamer.
"If you chaps knew your business you would be at anchor instead of
cruising round in this fog," called a hoarse voice from the steamer.
"If you knew your business you would blow your fog whistle while running
through a fog bank," returned Frank Merriwell, promptly.
"That's the stuff, Merry!" grated Hodge, whose face was still pale. "How
do you suppose they happened to do such a thing?"
"Probably that bank of fog is narrow, and they only ran into it a few
minutes ago. Perhaps they did not strike heavy fog till just before they
broke through and came into view."
"Well, it was a piece of reprehensible carelessness, and it's lucky the
_White Wings_ was not cut in two."
As the huge steamer slipped past, the boys saw not many persons were
astir on her. She had made an all-night run from Boston, and the
passengers were still sleeping in their staterooms, with a few
exceptions.
Near the stern of the steamer were two persons in mackintoshes. They
seemed to regard the yacht with interest, not to say excitement, and
their movements attracted the attention of the boys.
One of the passengers clutched the other by the arm and pointed out the
_White Wings_, then both leaned over the rail.
Jack Diamond leaped to Merriwell's side, grasped Merry by the shoulder,
and cried in his ear:
"Look, Merriwell--look!"
"Where?"
"On the steamer there! The two fellows astern!"
"I see them."
"Know them?"
"By Jove! I believe I do!"
"One of them is----"
"Wat Snell!"
"Sure! And the other is----"
"The chap who claimed this yacht--Parker Flynn!"
"Exactly."
"Great Scott! What are they doing on that boat?"
"Following us!"
"Perhaps they are."
"Perhaps! There is no perhaps about it! Of course they are!"
"But Snell and Flynn together--how does that happen?"
"I can't tell that, but they are together, and they are following
us--that's sure. You are not done with Flynn, it seems."
"He will get into trouble if he bothers me any more. I shall not stand
any nonsense from him. As for Wat Snell, all I want is a good chance to
square up with him. I will make him sorry he ever heard of me!"
"That's the talk, Frank!" exclaimed Diamond, approvingly. "Snell will be
easier to dispose of than the other chap, for it is probable that Flynn
believes he can take this boat away from you because he has a right to
it, or he would not be following us."
"He has no right to it, and he will not be able to take it."
"See, Frank! What is the fellow going to---- Look out!"
On the steamer Flynn had been seen to hastily unbutton his mackintosh,
jerk something bright out of his hip pocket and point it toward the
yacht.
It was a revolver.
Jack Diamond realized the desperate fellow's purpose, and he caught hold
of Frank Merriwell and gave him a push that threw him to the deck beside
the wheel.
There was a flash of fire from the revolver, a puff of smoke, and then a
bullet whistled over the yacht, striking the water beyond.
"Well, of all the foolhardy, cowardly tricks, I believe that takes the
premium!" said Frank, as he arose and grasped the wheel again. "That man
is drunk or crazy!"
The moment Flynn fired, Snell took to his heels and scudded out of
sight, disappearing on the other side of the steamer. Flynn hastily put
up his revolver, shook his fist toward the yacht, and then followed
Snell, both of them getting out of the way before anyone, attracted by
the sound of the shot, came aft to investigate.
The big paddlewheels of the steamer were in motion again, and she was
forging on her course, as if nothing had happened.
Frank brought the _White Wings_ round and set his course to follow as
closely as the wind would allow. In a short time the steamer was almost
out of sight in the thin mist that hung over the water where there was
no fog.
Then, at last, Hans Dunnerwust came puffing and stumbling on deck,
fairly loaded down with life-preservers. He fell at the head of the
companion way, and the life-preservers flew all over the deck.
"Put me onto them kvick!" he squealed. "Uf I don'd haf a life breserfer
on ven der yocht sinks you vos a goner!"
The boys laughed at his ludicrous appearance, and he sat up on the deck,
staring around blankly.
"Vere dot sdeampoat vos?" he asked, in astonishment.
"Why, the steamer is a mile away by this time," said Hodge.
"If she had run into us, we'd been at the bottom long before this,"
laughed Frank. "You are too slow, Hans."
"Vale, I done your duty, anyhow," sturdily declared the Dutch boy. "You
don'd got me to makin' no mistake in dot."
Then he was set to gathering up the life preservers and carrying them
below again.
The encounter with the steamer and the desperate action of Parker Flynn
furnished food for conversation on board the yacht. The boys talked it
over and over, and it was the general opinion that the presence of Flynn
and Snell in company on the steamer was not an accident.
"We'll see more of those fellows before long," prophesied Diamond. "And
it strikes me that Flynn is more dangerous than Snell, for he is a
desperate fellow. If he had shot anybody on this boat there was no way
of making it seem an accident. When Snell pushed you in front of the
car he could have sworn it was an accident if the car had killed you.
Look out for Parker Flynn."
"I will," said Merriwell.
It was nearly nine o'clock before they rounded Owl's Head and pointed
into Rockland harbor. The mist still hung on the water, and the outlines
of the city were hidden. Frank, however, felt confident that he was all
right.
"We'll take dinner ashore if you say so, fellows," he said.
"Oh, I don't know," said Jack. "I don't believe these natives down in
this country know how to cook anything fit to eat."
Frank smiled.
"I fancy you have a few notions that will be knocked out of your head
after you have been down this way a short time. You still seem to fancy
you are going into a howling wilderness where there are only savages and
half-civilized white people."
"Perhaps we are," said Jack, by way of being odd. "You don't know
yourself, for this is your first visit down here."
Out through the mist came a tiny steam launch. All at once it was headed
straight toward the _White Wings_.
"She acts as if she is coming for us," said Hodge, scowling.
As the launch came nearer five persons were seen in her. The interest of
the boys increased rapidly, for everything seemed to indicate that she
was making straight for the yacht.
All at once Diamond uttered a cry, turned to Frank and said:
"I knew it! I told you we'd see more of him! See the fellow in the bow
of that launch? It's Parker Flynn!"
CHAPTER V.
A BOARDING PARTY.
"Sure as shooting!" nodded Frank. "He is in a hurry to see me--that's
plain."
"Yes, he couldn't wait till we got into the harbor."
"It's probable he thought we might not come into Rockland after seeing
him on the steamer, and so, as soon as he could get ashore, he hired the
launch to run out and head us off."
"Snell is with him," said Hodge. "Oh, I'd like to get a crack at that
fellow!"
"You may have a chance," smiled Merriwell, coolly.
"How?"
"I don't propose to let those chaps come aboard my yacht unless they
show that they have a right to do so."
"Good for you!" cried Bart, his face growing stern. "I am with you,
Merry!"
"And I!" exclaimed Diamond.
"Vale, I don'd knew but I vos re'dy vor a liddle schraps," observed
Hans.
"Then we will stand by to repel boarders if they try the trick," said
Frank. "Call Browning on deck."
So the big Yale man was called, and he came up in his shirt sleeves. He
was interested immediately the situation was explained to him, and he
seemed well pleased when Frank expressed his intention of preventing the
strangers from boarding without authority.
"This promises to be a real warm morning," he said, with a lazy smile.
"I'm rather glad I'm here."
By this time the launch was close at hand.
"Ahoy the yacht!" called a voice.
"Ay! ay!" called back Merriwell, in true nautical style. "On board the
launch, what's wanted?"
"Lay to. We have business with you."
"Keep off. We haven't time to bother with you."
"Don't act foolish!" was the angry exclamation. "If you do, you will be
sorry!"
"If you bother us without a legal right you will be sorry," flung back
Frank. "We are not to be trifled with this morning."
The launch made a circle and swung round so that she was heading in the
same direction as the yacht.
"If you don't lay to," said the spokesman on board the launch, "we'll
run alongside and board you."
"Try it. You will find the warmest job you ever struck!"
"Why, you will not resist officers of the law?"
"Not if we know the officers have authority."
"Well, we have the authority, so head up into the wind."
"You say you have authority, but I do not even know you are an officer.
In fact, judging by the company you are in, I should take you for
anything else."
There were muttered words on the launch, savage, suppressed oaths and a
stir that was significant.
"They do mean to run alongside and board!" exclaimed Diamond. "Are you
still in for keeping them off, Merry?"
"You bet!" nodded Frank, grimly. "If I decide otherwise, I will give you
the word in time."
Bruce Browning began to roll up his sleeves, baring his brawny arms.
There was a flush on his face and an eager look in his eyes.
"Some of those gentlemen will take a bath this morning," he said.
Both Diamond and Hodge flung aside their coats.
The men on the launch saw these significant movements and could not
misunderstand them. They were surprised by the attitude of the crew of
the _White Wings_.
"You fools!" cried the spokesman of the party, who had a full black
beard. "You will get yourselves jailed if you make any resistance. I am
Sheriff Ulmer, of Rockland!"
"Where is your badge?" demanded Frank. "Show that."
The man who claimed to be the sheriff hesitated.
"He can't do it!" muttered Hodge, triumphantly.
"I have papers to serve on you," said the black-bearded man.
"You can serve them when I come ashore," returned Frank. "I am going
into the harbor, and I shall be ashore in thirty minutes after dropping
anchor."
"But you are on a stolen yacht, and I am here to take possession of it."
"I am not on a stolen yacht, and I do not mean that you shall take
possession of it unless you have the right to do so. This yacht belongs
to me. I bought it and paid for it with good money, and I mean to hold
it. If you really are Sheriff Ulmer, which I am inclined to doubt, you
have been deceived by that rascal in the bow of the launch. He holds a
worthless bill of sale of this boat, which, if it is not a forgery, was
made out by a crazy man who did not own the boat at the time."
"It's a lie!" snarled Flynn. "The bill of sale is all right, and we're
going to take that yacht!"
"You will have to fight for her, if you do!"
"If you fight, you fool, you will go to jail. There is a first-class
jail in Rockland, too."
"I'll take my chances of going to jail. Keep off! This is a fair
warning."
By this time the launch was close to the yacht, and the faces of all the
persons in the small boat could be seen and studied. Wat Snell was
pale, and it was plain he did not relish his position. With the fellow
who claimed to be sheriff was a hang-dog looking chap who looked like a
fighter. The man who was running the launch acted as if he had no
intention of taking any part in the fight, if one should occur. It was
plain he had been hired to set the others on board the _White Wings_,
and he did not mean to do anything more than that.
"Hans!" called Frank, "take the wheel and hold her steady as she is. You
will get out of the scrimmage, and I want to have a hand in that."
Hans took the wheel, and Frank prepared to take a hand in the repulse if
the enemy tried to board.
The man in the launch who had claimed to be sheriff stood up and waved
his clinched fist above his head.
"In the name of the law, I command you to surrender!" he shouted.
"Show your authority," calmly returned Merriwell.
"Here it is--the bill of sale of that yacht."
"That is no authority. Do you think you can bluff us because we are
young? You will find you have made a big mistake."
"Board them!" cried Flynn. "Take the yacht! That is the only way to do
it!"
"You will find that is a mighty hard way to do it!" grated Bart Hodge.
"Come on, Snell! I want to get at you!"
The launch ran alongside the yacht, and the man with the fellow who
claimed to be the sheriff caught the rail of the _White Wings_ with a
boat hook.
"Come on!" roared the black-whiskered chap.
"Stand by to repel boarders!" rang out Frank's clear voice.
CHAPTER VI.
THE STRUGGLE FOR THE YACHT.
The big man with the whiskers was the first to make an attempt to reach
the deck of the yacht. He gave a leap that landed him on the rail. Then
Bruce Browning picked him up and tossed him back into the launch.
The man was surprised, but he made another rush to get onto the _White
Wings_.
In the meantime Parker Flynn had tried to get aboard, but had been
struck on the jaw by Merriwell's hard fist and knocked back into the
launch.
Snell started to climb over the rail of the yacht, but tumbled back of
his own accord when Hodge made a rush for him.
The hang-dog-appearing chap was the spryest man on the launch. With a
catlike leap, he cleared the rail of the _White Wings_ and reached the
deck. He found himself face to face with Jack Diamond, and a second
later they clinched.
"You are not wanted here!" exclaimed Jack.
"But I'm going to stay here!" said the other.
Diamond was strong and smart, but he found his hands full. Had he not
taken the chap at a slight disadvantage in getting the first hold, the
stranger would have been his master. As it was, they slipped and
staggered about the deck, the stranger struggling to break Jack's hold.
In his excitement, Hans failed to hold the yacht steadily on her course,
as Frank had directed, and suddenly she swung, so the main boom swept
across the deck. It struck Diamond's antagonist on the back of the head
and stunned him for a moment. That moment was long enough for Jack to
lift him and drop him over into the launch.
Hans sent over the wheel and brought the yacht back, so the boom swung
out of the way, but his negligence had aided Diamond to a large extent.
On falling back into the boat, Snell had scrambled up and stood snarling
at Hodge, who was urging him to come within reach.
"Oh, I do want to get my hands on you!" said Bart. "I'll give you
something to remember me by, you sneaking cur!"
"You are a sneak yourself!" cried Snell, "or you would not be hanging
around with Frank Merriwell after he licked you and got the best of you
in everything you did!"
"It is a compliment to be called a sneak by you, you coward! Come up
here! Let me give you a black eye!"
But Snell kept just out of reach, although he made several bluff
attempts to board the _White Wings_.
Probably the most astonished man was the big fellow with the black
whiskers. He realized that Browning had handled him easily and
carelessly, but still it did not seem possible that the rather fleshy,
smooth-faced chap could have much strength, large as he was.
"Better stay down there," advised Bruce. "Next time I shall throw you
farther."
"Next time you won't throw me at all!" came from the professed sheriff,
as he made another spring for the yacht.
It seemed that Bruce caught him on the fly. Now the big fellow was fully
aroused, and he swung the stranger over his head and gave him a terrific
heave.
The man whirled through the air, passed clean over the launch, struck
the water beyond and disappeared from view.
At that very moment Frank Merriwell got another crack at Parker Flynn,
who had not learned his lesson by his first experience, and again tried
to board.
Smack!--the blow sounded, and, with a groan, Flynn dropped down into the
launch.
The man who was running the launch seemed satisfied, for he suddenly let
go with the boat hook, and the yacht swung away from her foe.
The self-styled sheriff came to the surface and was pulled aboard the
launch. The ducking seemed to have taken the spirit out of him. He
glared at the yacht, but all his eagerness to board her seemed gone.
Parker Flynn sat up and swore, holding onto his aching jaw. He had not
realized that there was a set of fighters on board the _White Wings_,
although Wat Snell had warned him to that effect. Now he realized that
the yacht could not easily be captured in the manner in which he had
attempted to accomplish the feat.
The meeting of Flynn and Snell came about in this way. Snell, on finding
Frank and his friends were in Boston, had played the spy on the party.
He followed them to the pier the morning they went aboard the _White
Wings_, and he saw the encounter between Frank and Flynn. When Flynn
left the pier, Snell followed and spoke to him. After that it did not
take Wat long to work into the good graces of Flynn.
Infuriated by his failure to obtain possession of the yacht, Flynn
proceeded to get drunk and stay so. On the second day of his spree, he
determined to pursue Merriwell and take the yacht by force, if it could
not be obtained in any other manner. Then he hunted up Snell, and it was
not hard to induce Wat to accompany him.
Flynn knew the "poker gang" in Rockland, and he knew there were a few
desperate fellows among those who made up the gang. He had "dropped his
roll" in Rockland once when he struck the town with an idea in his head
that he was "getting against a lot of jays," and on that occasion he
became friendly with Peter McSwatt and Hunk Gardman. Gardman did not
belong in Rockland, but he came in frequently from an adjoining town to
play poker. He was a crook and a sneak, and he showed it in his face.
McSwatt was not quite as "smooth" as Gardman; he could not "handle the
cards" as well, but he could sit in a game with Gardman and play what
his crooked pal dealt him, so that, after every game, there was usually
an ill-gotten pot to be divided. If there was any trouble, McSwatt did
the fighting.
Flynn telephoned McSwatt and told him when he would be in Rockland,
asking to be met at the boat by McSwatt and a good man who would stand
by in a scrap. He ended by saying there was good money in it, and his
offered inducements led McSwatt and Gardman to be on hand at the time
set.
Flynn was still under the influence of liquor. Had it been otherwise, he
would not have fired at the _White Wings_ from the deck of the _City of
Bangor_.
On arriving in Rockland, he found his chosen tools waiting for him, and
he explained that the yacht _White Wings_ had been stolen from him. To
convince McSwatt and Gardman, he showed the bill of sale which he held.
He explained that he could not afford the time to recover the boat by
regular process of law, and said that it would be an easy thing to take
it from the boys who were on board. He showed money and paid his tools
something in advance. A few drinks of liquor put them in the mood for
almost anything, and then the steam launch was hired to go out in search
of the _White Wings_, as Flynn feared the yacht might not come into
Rockland at all.
The owner of the launch was convinced that Flynn really owned the yacht,
and had a right to take her by force if necessary, but he did not agree
to have anything to do with the seizing of the boat further than
putting the party alongside.
Snell had warned Flynn that the party on the _White Wings_ was made up
of fighters, but the man sneered at them as a lot of boys. It was not
believed that there would be any real difficulty in obtaining possession
of the yacht, but it was thought best that McSwatt should claim to be an
officer.
Thus it came about that the _White Wings_ was met by the steam launch as
she headed into Rockland harbor. But the crew on board the launch met
with the surprise of their lives, and they were thoroughly disgusted
when they were beaten off without much difficulty.
The two cracks Frank had given Flynn knocked some of the conceit and
bravado out of him, and for some time after the yacht and the launch
swung apart he sat still and swore.
McSwatt was not in a pleasant mood as he wrung the water out of his
clothes. He glared at Flynn and snarled:
"Thought you said they were a lot of boys who could be scared out of
their skins! Boys! Why, they are young devils! The fellow I went against
is a regular Samson!"
"They're in a bad scrape now," said Flynn, with an attempt at
fierceness. "They have resisted the rightful owner of that yacht, and
they shall smart for it."
"That's all right, but they might have been fooled in a different way.
Here they are running right into the harbor, and they will stop there.
We might have watched till the most of them went ashore, and then we
could have taken her easily."
"How did I know they would run in here? They might have kept on up the
bay. And I didn't suppose a lot of beardless chaps could put up such a
scrap."
"Well, we have done all you asked of us, and we want our pay."
"Done! You haven't done anything! I hired you to help me take the
yacht."
"And misrepresented the case to us. You will pay me, or I'll chuck you
overboard!"
There was a glare in McSwatt's eyes that cowed Flynn.
"Oh, we mustn't quarrel," he quickly said. "Of course, I will pay you,
as I agreed."
"I thought so."
"And I will double the sum if you stand by me a while longer. I tell you
I can't fool with those chaps--I can't waste time. I must get possession
of my boat at once."
"Well, if you are thinking of attempting to board her again, you'll have
to get somebody in my place. I have had enough of that kind of work."
Flynn saw that McSwatt meant it.
"All right," he growled. "We'll stay out and keep watch of her till she
drops anchor. I want to be sure they mean to stop here."
So the launch cruised about, keeping in sight of the _White Wings_ till
the yacht ran slowly into the harbor and let fall her anchor in the
vicinity of half a dozen other pleasure yachts laying near together.
CHAPTER VII.
ARRESTED IN ROCKLAND.
There were some indignant lads on board the _White Wings_.
"A regular case of piracy!" declared Diamond. "If we had not been too
much for that gang, they would have seized the boat."
"Sure," nodded Hodge, whose eyes were gleaming, while his breast, across
which his arms were folded, rose and fell with excitement.
"We handled them too easy," grunted Browning. "It would have served them
right if we had split the skull of every man who tried to come over our
rail."
"Der pig poom come britty near sblitting der skull uf one," grinned
Hans. "You pet dot chap half a swelt head on me."
Frank had returned to the wheel. He did not say much, but his cheeks
were flushed with excitement and his lips were pressed together.
"Remember what the truckman told you, Merry?" questioned Diamond.
"What was that?"
"Why, about this boat being hoodooed."
"Yes."
"It begins to look as if he was right."
"Oh, I don't know."
"Well, if this hasn't been a hoodoo cruise from Boston, I don't know a
thing!"
"It has been rather eventful," admitted Frank, his face relaxing
somewhat.
"Uf you vos lookin' oxcitement for, we haf found him," put in Hans.
"Those chaps are keeping watch of us now," said Frank. "I suppose they
think of trying the trick again."
"Don't believe they will," said Hodge. "We'll be in the harbor pretty
soon, and they won't dare make another attempt like that."
As they ran in the mist lifted and vanished, and they saw the city
stretched before them. To the north was the breakwater that protects the
harbor, and away in the distance loomed some mountains.
"What are those hills there?" asked Diamond.
"Those are the famous Camden mountains," answered Frank. "The town lies
at the foot of those mountains, and Thomas Wentworth Higginson says the
scenery in the vicinity of Camden is the most varied and beautiful to be
found anywhere in the world."
"Are we going to stop at Camden?"
"Well, that is on the program. We'll run up there to-morrow."
They anchored near the other yachts and vessels, purposely running into
the very midst of them.
"As long as one of us stays on board, those chaps will not attempt to
seize the yacht by force while we remain here," said Merriwell.
"Don't be too sure of that," warned Hodge. "They are desperate
characters, and there is no telling what they will try."
They watched the launch run into a wharf and saw the party leave her.
Not one of the baffled boarders remained in the vicinity, but all
quickly disappeared.
"I believe they are afraid of the consequences now," said Merry. "They
are getting out of the way in a hurry."
It was not long before the others were of the same opinion. However,
Frank was not certain but this movement on the part of the enemy was a
ruse to lull their suspicions.
"Three of us will remain on the yacht," he said. "Jack and I are going
ashore."
"How?" asked Diamond. "We have no boat, and we are anchored off here in
the bay."
"I am going to buy a boat here. I think we can get one of the boats from
some of these vessels to set us ashore."
The nearest vessel was hailed, and it did not take long to get a sailor
with a boat to come over to the yacht and take Frank and Jack off. He
rowed them to the steamboat wharf, and would not take a cent for doing
so.
"All right, mates," he said, in a hearty way. "I'll want a turn
sometime, perhaps." Then, after telling them that, if they did not get a
boat, they could whistle him up and he would bring them off to their
yacht, he rowed away.
There were a number of truck teams about the wharf, loading with the
freight left there that morning by the steamer. Frank inquired of one of
the truckmen where to find a man who would sell them a first-class
rowboat, and the truckman directed him to a man who had boats to let and
to sell.
This man the boys sought without delay, but he was not at his shop. They
were told that he had gone uptown, and so they walked up Sea Street into
the heart of the city.
As they came out on Main Street, Diamond halted with an exclamation of
astonishment.
"Great Scott!" burst from his lips. "Is this real?"
"Is what real?" asked Frank.
"Do I really see a trolley car running along the street here, or am I
dreaming?"
"Oh, come along!" laughed Frank. "They have trolley cars down in this
country, and I don't think it looks quite as wild and uncivilized as you
expected."
They entered the Thorndike Hotel together, and, just as they passed
through the door, Frank suddenly clutched his friend's arm, giving a
gasp of astonishment himself.
Jack saw Merry was staring toward the flight of stairs. He looked up,
and there on the stairs, descending toward them, were two girls, Inza
Burrage and Paula Benjamin!
Merriwell recovered his composure immediately and stepped forward to
meet the girls at the foot of the stairs, accompanied by Diamond. The
boys lifted their hats, and Frank said:
"Another unexpected pleasure! We didn't dream of this. Supposed you were
in Bar Harbor."
The girls shook hands with them, and both seemed to show confusion.
"It is a pleasure," declared Inza. "We are stopping here in Rockland a
few days."
Frank longed to ask questions, but he knew it would be an act of
rudeness, and he refrained. However, Paula seemed to think that Inza's
explanation was not sufficient, and she added:
"Yes, we decided to stop off here a day, and we are so interested with
the city and the surrounding country that we will remain a little
longer."
"That will be pleasant," said Frank. "We've just got in, and are rather
salty now, but we mean to brace up and get some of the brine out of us.
Perhaps we may have the pleasure of seeing you often while we remain
here."
"I hope we may," put in Jack, quickly, looking earnestly at Paula, who
let her eyes droop before his gaze.
"I am sure it will be agreeable to us," smiled Inza. "Tell us something
about your voyage. Did you have a nice time?"
"Nice isn't any name for it," laughed Frank.
"That's right," nodded Jack; "it isn't."
"We have encountered excitements galore."
"Such as fogs and storms and steamboats and pirates."
"Mercy! Pirates!"
"Well, they attempted to board us and seize the yacht."
"What did you do?"
"We gave them a jolly good welcome."
A uniformed policeman entered the hotel and stepped up to the boys.
"Which one of you is Frank Merriwell?" he asked.
"I am, sir," said Frank.
"Then," said the officer, "I shall have to take you."
"Take me?" cried Frank. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you are under arrest."
CHAPTER VIII.
A STIR IN LIMEROCK CITY.
Both girls uttered a little cry of amazement and alarm, and Paula shrank
close to Inza, clasping her about the waist.
"Under arrest?" repeated Frank, slowly. "For what?"
"Stealing a yacht and resisting the real owner when he attempted to
regain possession of it."
Merry laughed heartily.
"This is a joke!" he exclaimed.
The officer seemed puzzled, but he frowned at Frank, saying:
"You are not likely to find it a joke, young man. It is a serious
offense, and, if you have not some rich folks who will settle handsomely
for your little lark, you will go to jail."
"My dear sir," said Merriwell, with perfect coolness, "you are taking
too much for granted. You are standing on the ground that the charge
against me is true. It will be the easiest thing in the world to prove
that it is not."
"You will have to prove that to the judge," said the officer, with his
hand on Frank's shoulder. "Just now you'll have to accompany me. If you
resist or make any trouble, it will be worse for you."
He produced handcuffs.
"What do you mean to do?" hoarsely demanded Diamond, his eyes bulging.
"You're not going to handcuff him?"
"It is necessary. I am not taking any chances. A chap who will steal a
yacht is liable to be pretty desperate."
"I will go along with you quietly," said Frank, paling a bit at the
thought of being led shackled through the streets. "I give you my word
on that."
"It's an outrage!" cried Diamond.
"I advise you to keep still," said the officer, sternly. "You may be
arrested as an accomplice."
"I don't care if I am!" came fiercely from Jack's lips. "I say it is an
outrage, and I will stand by it. Mr. Merriwell purchased the yacht and
paid his money for it, as he can prove. He is the rightful owner of the
boat."
"I am not going to discuss that."
The officer was about to put the irons on Frank, when Jack cut in with:
"Have a little decency about this, Mr. Officer. If you believe this
young man such a desperate fellow, call an assistant. Surely two of you
ought to be able to take him to the lockup without handcuffing him."
The policeman was angry, and Frank saw that what Jack was saying was not
making things any better, so he asked his friend to be quiet. Then he
said something in a low tone to the officer. The latter hesitated.
"Put yourself in my place," said Frank. "You are not sure this charge is
true. Think how you would feel to be dragged along the street with irons
on your wrists when you had not been guilty of committing a crime."
"And he tells you the truth, sir, when he says he bought the yacht,"
broke in Inza, fearlessly. "I know it! He purchased it of my friend's
brother."
"That is true," spoke up Paula, with sudden braveness. "My brother sold
him the yacht. He never stole it! Why, he is Frank Merriwell, of Yale,
and everybody knows Frank Merriwell would not steal anything."
She was startled by her own boldness, but her words brought about a good
result.
Of course, the arrest of Frank had attracted the attention of all who
were in the office of the hotel, among whom were several commercial men.
One of the latter stepped forward quickly.
"Frank Merriwell, of Yale?" he exclaimed. "Is this the famous Yale
pitcher? By Jove, it is! I have seen him pitch several games, but I
didn't know him in this yachting suit. Mr. Merriwell, I am glad to see
you, but sorry you are in trouble. However, if I can aid you in any way,
you may count on me."
"Thank you," said Frank. "It's pleasant to know I am not quite unknown
and friendless down here."
"Unknown!" exclaimed another man. "If you are Frank Merriwell, we all
know about you. We have read about you in the papers. You are the best
known college man in this country. Officer, I don't believe this young
gentleman is either a thief or a desperado. If he says he will go along
with you, I'll vouch for him."
"If you say so, Mr. Franch----"
"I do. I will be responsible for him."
The officer put his handcuffs out of sight.
"All right," he said. "Come along, young man."
By this time the report had gone abroad that there had been an arrest in
the Thorndike, and a crowd was gathering outside the door. In the crowd
were a number of excited small boys, for they had heard that the person
arrested was the famous Yale football and baseball player, Frank
Merriwell.
One of the boys in the crowd saw a friend on the opposite side of the
street, and yelled:
"Hey, Charley, get a wiggle on an' come over here! W'at yer t'ink! Ther
cop has nabbed that feller we've been readin' about--Frank Merriwell!"
"Aw! w'at yer givin' us!" flung back the other.
"This ain't no fust of April!"
"It's dead straight, Charley! Frank Merriwell is right here in ther
Thorndike, an' Old Briggs has pinched him. Don't yer want ter see him?"
"Don't I?" gasped the one across the street, as he bolted from the
sidewalk. "I'd rudder see Frank Merriwell than have a season ticket to
der ball games!"
And he could not get over quick enough.
By the time the officer was ready to bring Frank out of the hotel, all
the men and boys outside knew who had been arrested, and the excitement
was great. The crowd grew swiftly, and everybody was eager to get a look
at the Yale athlete of whom they had heard such wonderful stories.
The young men of the town were no less excited than the boys. There was
scarcely one of them who did not know something about Frank Merriwell
and his record, and, even before they could find out why he had been
arrested, they denounced the arrest as an outrage.
Another policeman came along and attempted to clear the sidewalk in
front of the hotel, but the crowd did not want to disperse.
The officer who had arrested Frank came out with Merriwell at his side,
a hand on his arm.
"There he is!" was the cry that went up. "That is Frank Merriwell!"
Jack Diamond, who walked beside Frank, was amazed at the crowd and to
hear them call Frank's name.
"They know you, Merriwell," he said.
"It seems so," said Frank, with a faint smile.
"It's a shame!" cried one of the young men. "What's he arrested for?"
"Don't know," admitted another; "but I'll bet my clothes he is all
right! Frank Merriwell is on the level!"
"That's so!" shouted twenty voices.
The crowd followed the officer and his prisoner. Somebody proposed a
cheer for Frank Merriwell, and it seemed that every human being in that
following crowd cheered as loudly as he could.
Then somebody proposed three groans for Old Briggs, the officer, and the
crowd groaned in a most dismal manner.
Some of the small boys grew so excited that they kept yelling at Briggs
to let Frank go. But they were scarcely less excited than the lads of
eighteen or twenty. A dozen of them got together and actually talked of
taking Briggs' prisoner from him. In their enthusiasm they might have
tried it, but for the coolness of one or two among them.
"It's a blamed shame to have this thing happen in Rockland!" declared
one fellow. "What will Merriwell think of us? He will be dead sore on
this town."
"He isn't a fool," said a cooler head. "If he is all right, it isn't
likely that any harm will come to him. He can't blame Briggs for doing
his duty if there is a warrant for his arrest."
So Frank was marched away to the lockup, but his arrest had created more
excitement in the city than any other event since the opening game of
baseball in the Knox County League, July Fourth.
Frank was locked in a cell. Jack did not leave him till the door had
closed on his friend.
The boys had found out that the warrant for Frank's arrest was sworn out
by Parker Flynn.
"He shall pay dearly for this piece of business!" muttered the young
Virginian, as he left the lockup.
The crowd that still lingered in front of the building stared at Jack.
They had seen him with Merriwell, and they knew he must be one of
Frank's particular friends. The small boys envied him for that very
reason.
Diamond had learned that Merriwell would have a hearing before a local
judge at two o'clock that afternoon, and he resolved to do whatever he
could for his friend before that time.
But Diamond had not left Frank thirty minutes before there were two
visitors to see the prisoner. They were admitted by the guard, and
Merriwell was staggered when he saw the face of one of them.
"Jack Benjamin?" he cried. "It can't be!"
"But it is," declared the little fellow, as he grasped Merry's hand and
shook it warmly.
"But--but----"
"You're astonished--exactly. I don't wonder. Folks at home think me on
the way to Alaska. The governor thinks so. As long as he thinks that, he
won't interfere with my little outing down this way."
"But the deception--I don't understand it."
"Expect I'd better make a clean breast to you," said Benjamin, blushing
in a remarkable manner. "You see, it's this way: Last year at Newport I
met a young lady on whom I got badly smashed. She's a star,
Merriwell--she's the only one for me! But the old man--excuse me--the
governor objected, said I was too young to know my mind, and all that
rot. He found out the girl's folks were not very rich, and then he set
about raising the high dinkey-dink with everything. Well, the result was
that he did smash things for a time. This summer, when I wanted to spend
my vacation down in Maine, he sat down on it hard. You see, he did so
because the young lady lives here in Rockland. I was forced to give up
the idea--apparently. But I began to talk about Alaska. Then I sold you
the _White Wings_ to get enough money for my summer outing, left word
that I was off for Alaska, and came down here. That's the whole of it.
Here I am."
"Then I understand how it happens your sister and Inza are stopping in
Rockland. She knows you are here."
"Sure. Sis is all right. She sticks by me."
Thus far Frank had paid no attention to his second visitor, but now the
fellow stepped forward, saying:
"Howdy-do, Merriwell. I suppose you know me?"
"What?" cried Frank, grasping the extended hand. "Is it Fred Moslof, of
Dartmouth? What are you doing down here? I haven't seen you since our
opening game last spring, when you spoiled two daisy hits for me by
digging them out of the dirt down around third bag."
Moslof laughed.
"I am playing ball down here this summer," he said.
"Well, that is a surprise. Are you playing on the Rockland team?"
"No, I am manager of the Camdens. As soon as Benjamin told me you were
here, we came right up. I played with Rockland last summer, and I know
stacks of influential men in both Rockland and Camden. I'll fix this
matter of bail for you and get you out of here in a hurry, if you like."
"Well, that is kind of you," smiled Frank, "and I appreciate it. I shall
be glad to accept your offer, old man."
"Then it is settled," said Benjamin. "Moslof can do the trick. It may
take an hour or two to fix it, but we'll see that it's done. Just make
yourself easy."
When they departed, they left Frank in good spirits, for he knew he
could easily refute the charge of stealing the yacht, for Benjamin was
there in Rockland to substantiate his statements. Merriwell was resolved
to settle that matter and then make it very warm for Mr. Parker Flynn.
It took something more than an hour for Moslof and Benjamin to fix
things, but they finally returned to the lockup, accompanied by an
officer with an order for Frank's release.
Merriwell told them all about Flynn's attempt to obtain possession of
the yacht by force, and then he accompanied them to the office of a
justice of the peace, where he swore out a warrant against Flynn and saw
it placed in the hands of an officer to be served.
"We'll give that gentleman the surprise of his life," smiled Benjamin.
"He won't expect to see me down here. If he had not thought me on my way
to Alaska, he would not have dared attempt such a high-handed
proceeding."
Moslof said that he must return to Camden. He had come down to confer
with the Rockland and Thomaston managers about the schedule, and he had
finished his business. At parting he said:
"Look here, Merriwell, can't you pitch one or two games for us, if no
more. Camden has a better team than Rockland, but Rockland is stronger
in the box. We started out with a lead the first of the season, but
we've been dropping games to Rockland right along lately, and we won't
be in it if the thing keeps on. I have telegraphed and telephoned all
over the country for a strong pitcher, but I haven't got hold of the
right man. You'd be just the man for us. Why, you would paralyze
Rockland with that double-shoot of yours."
"Well, old man," said Frank, "I hate to refuse you anything after what
you have done, but you know I want no part in professional baseball."
"This is only semi-professional. Part of our team are not under salary,
and nearly all are college players."
"I might get myself into trouble if I pitched, Moslof. I can't promise."
"Well, promise me that you will pitch for Camden if you pitch at all in
the Knox County League."
"I'll do that," smiled Merry; "but you must not expect me to pitch at
all."
Moslof was forced to be satisfied with that. At least, he knew Rockland
would not secure Merriwell, and that was some satisfaction, as he had
heard rumors that the Rockland management meant to have the famous Yale
twirler, if he was to be procured for love or money.
Frank accompanied Benjamin back to the Thorndike, where he was received
with great delight by Inza, Paula and Inza's aunt, Miss Abigail Gale.
"I didn't dare tell you Jack was here when we first met," said Paula;
"but when that horrid policeman took you away, I just hurried to let him
know what had happened. He said he would have you out all right in a
short time."
"Well, he kept his word, and now I am after the fellow who put this job
up on me. I have sworn out a warrant for his arrest, and he will find
himself in my place before night."
Frank remained at the hotel thirty minutes chatting with the girls and
Miss Gale, and then he said that he must return to the yacht and let his
friends know he was all right.
On his way to the wharf, Frank called at the shop of the boat builder
again, and found the man in. He was pleased to learn that the man had
two boats for sale, both of which were in the water.
After looking the boats over, Merry made a bargain for one of them and
paid for it. Then he got into the boat, rowed out round the wharf and
pulled away for the yacht.
As he approached the yacht, Hans came on deck, saw him and raised a
shout that brought the others up in a hurry. All were astonished and
delighted to see Frank. Jack had been there and told them what had
happened; then he had hurried away to see if he could do anything for
Merriwell.
Frank told them the story of his release, and, as it was midday, he
stayed on board to eat a hearty meal. While they were eating, Jack
returned, having been taken to the yacht by a boatman he had hired.
"Knew you must be here!" cried the Virginian. "I was making a hustle to
get you out when I heard you were out already. Why, I never saw a place
like this, Frank! Everybody in town has heard of you, and everybody was
furious over your arrest. Why, this is a great country, boys! I'm stuck
on it already. The people down here are all right!"
"Not quite such jays and hayseeds as you thought, eh?" smiled Frank.
"I tell you they are all right! They are not jays at all!"
After dinner the boys left Browning and Dunnerwust on the yacht to guard
it and then went ashore. Barely had Frank appeared in the city before
the manager of the Rockland baseball team fell on him and offered him
all sorts of inducements to pitch for his nine. But it was no use, for
Merry had given Moslof his promise.
Frank expected to hear that Flynn had been arrested. Instead, he learned
that neither Flynn nor Snell could be found, so the warrant had not been
served.
It was supposed that Flynn would be on hand when court was called to
order that afternoon, but he did not appear, and so the charge against
Frank was dismissed, as there was no one to push it.
Later it was learned that in some way Flynn had learned that Jack
Benjamin was in Rockland. As soon as he heard this, he made all haste to
get out of the place, taking an electric car to Camden, where he had
disappeared as completely as if wiped off the face of the earth.
"But I do not believe you have heard or seen the last of the fellow,
Merriwell," said Hodge. "He will bother you again."
Bart's words were destined to come true.
CHAPTER IX.
ALONG THE COAST TO CAMDEN.
"Nellie was a sailor's lass--a sailor's lass was she,
(Heave ho, my lads, then heave away!)
Waiting for her sailor lad, who sailed the deep blue sea.
(Heave ho, my lads, then heave away!)"
Three lads were getting up the anchor on board the _White Wings_, which
lay in Rockland harbor, on the coast of Maine, and they sang a nautical
song as they pulled at the cable. They were Bart Hodge, Jack Diamond and
Hans Dunnerwust. Frank Merriwell was busy making other preparations for
the run up to Camden that glorious summer morning, while Bruce Browning
was doing something below, no one knew what.
"Holdt on a vile till you spit on my handts," exclaimed the Dutch lad,
breathing heavily. "I vant to got a petter holdt mit my feet to kept
from slipping der rail ofer und der varter indo. I vas glad you don'd af
to bull ub anchors to make me a lifings."
"Keep at it, Hans," ordered Hodge.
"You remind me of the Irishman who caught his friend by the heels just
as the friend was falling headlong into a well," said Diamond, as he
continued to pull away.
"How vas dot?" asked Hans.
"He held on as long as he could," said Jack, "and then he called down to
his friend, 'Jist wait a minute where yez are, Mike, till Oi let go an'
get a betther hold.' Then he let go."
"Yaw," said Hans, soberly; "but I don'd seen der boint der story of."
"His friend couldn't wait," explained Jack.
Frank Merriwell laughed. Never before had he heard the Virginian tell a
humorous anecdote, and he was not a little surprised as well as pleased,
for it showed that Jack, who had grumbled a great deal during the
unlucky and unpleasant cruise down the coast, was in better spirits now
they were at last in the waters of Penobscot Bay.
The anchor broke water and was soon secured in place. Already the jib
had been raised, and Frank was at the wheel to bring the yacht round as
soon as she felt the breeze after the anchor was atrip. Every indication
was that there was just breeze enough outside the harbor to give them a
pleasant sail to their destination.
Under Frank's orders the boys set sail, hoisting both the jib topsails
and club topsails; in fact, cracking on every stitch. Hans grew weary
again before the mainsail was up.
"Get hold of the halyards and get into gear, Dunnerwust," ordered Bart,
sharply. "You are getting to be as bad as Browning, and he is no earthly
use on the water."
"Hey?" grunted the big fellow, his head appearing as he came up from
below. "Well, what's the use of being any earthly use on the water?
What's the matter with you, Hodge?"
"The matter with you is that you need something for that tired feeling,"
returned Bart, like a flash. "If you would get out and make a bluff at
pulling on a line now and then, it would seem rather more decent."
"I never make any bluffs. Everything is on the level with me. I'm not
much of a sailor, but I'm pretty good at repelling boarders, ducking
bogus sheriffs and such things. Don't worry about me. Just go ahead
getting under way. I'll be with you."
Then he calmly watched them get all the sails set, as if he did not
consider it necessary for him to lend a hand, and as if he had no idea
of doing so on any condition if he could avoid it.
Browning was lazy, and he knew it. He made no attempt to conceal the
fact; really, he almost seemed to glory in it. At college he was
familiarly called, "the Laziest Man on Earth," and it pleased rather
than disturbed him.
Ordinarily a lazy man is despised by his companions, but such was not
the case with Browning. Genial, big-hearted, strong as a giant, yet
gentle as a baby, he made hosts of friends and very few enemies. At one
time he had been really ambitious, but that was before the coming of
Frank Merriwell to Yale. Browning had been dropped to Merriwell's class
and, as there could be but one real leader in the class, he lost his
ambition when Merriwell showed his superiority.
But no man had proved a truer friend to Merriwell than the once famous
"King of the Sophomores." Browning was not particularly demonstrative in
his affection, but he could be depended on in any case of emergency, as
Frank had learned, and the big fellow was a good man to have for a
backer.
Browning could not be driven to do anything, nor could he be jollied
into it, a fact that irritated Hodge more or less.
"There is one thing we do not possess that we should have," said Merry,
as Jack came aft and stood near the wheel.
"What's that?"
"A gun."
"Why, you have four or five below."
"I don't mean that kind. We need a small cannon to fire when we anchor
and when we get under way. We are not doing the thing properly unless we
have one."
"I never thought of that."
"I did not think of it till it was too late to get one in Boston. We'll
have to get along for the present without it."
They ran past the end of the breakwater and were opposite the Bay Point
Hotel, a handsome summer hotel near the city of Rockland. Outside the
harbor they found a breeze that made the _White Wings_ heel over and
take a bone in her teeth.
Although the sloop was not in the racing class, Frank was well satisfied
with her, for he had discovered that she possessed many good qualities.
She could be held pretty near to the wind without yawing and she was not
at all cranky, nor did she require much weather helm. Of course, she
could not run as near to the wind as a cutter-rigged yacht of the racing
class, but she could do better than the ordinary cutter.
The wind was off shore and favorable, so the _White Wings_ seemed to fly
that morning. The boys found comfortable positions and enjoyed the sail
and the scenery.
Soon Rockland was left behind, disappearing from view behind the point
on which the hotel sat. And then the Camden mountains began to loom
higher and higher to the northwest.
"We met a warm reception in Rockland," said Frank. "I wonder how it will
be in Camden."
The sunshine was bright on the blue bay. The distant islands looked
inviting, and there was something about the cool greenness of the woods
along the shore that was soothing to the eye.
It was not long before Rockport lighthouse came into view. Beyond the
lighthouse they saw the narrow harbor and the village, with the houses
seeming to cling to the heights that surrounded the harbor. From the
limekilns rose black smoke that added to the picturesque charm of the
scene.
But Rockport was quickly passed and Negro Island, at the mouth of Camden
harbor, was before them. There was a lighthouse on the island, standing
there like an old woman in a white dress and black cap.
Now the mountains, seeming to rise from the very sea, were near at hand
and strikingly beautiful, clothed in their summer garments of green. On
the top of the nearest mountain stood a hotel with a high observation
tower.
"Boys," cried Diamond, "I am going up there and stop a week!"
"I wonder how anybody ever gets up there," grunted Browning. "I shall
not go if I have to climb."
"No need to tell us that," said Hodge. "We knew it."
As they came abreast Negro Island, two girls came down on the rocks and
waved handkerchiefs to them. The boys returned the salute, and Hans
Dunnerwust cried:
"Vale, uf I ain'd got a mash you vos a liar! Uf id vasn't for gettin' my
feets vet, I vould valk ashore righd avay kveek alretty. Yaw!"
Then he waved his cap to the girls, kissed his hands, bowed low with his
hand on his heart, and nearly fell overboard as Merry suddenly brought
the yacht up closer into the wind.
"Oxcuse me uf I stayed righd in Camden der rest uf your life," said
Hans, as he gathered himself up. "Dalk apout peaches! Vale, vot peen der
madder mit dose!"
The others smiled at his enthusiasm.
Passing the island, they came in full view of the harbor and town.
Several vessels and yachts lay in the harbor. Amid the trees the tastily
painted, red-roofed cottages were to be seen. Far up at the head of the
harbor rose handsome brick buildings. Church spires could be seen here
and there. From the flagstaff of a hotel on the heights floated the
American flag. On the black rocks under the shadow of the trees that
stood far above the shore was a picnic party, the blue smoke of their
fire rising from their midst. To the south of the town lay a beautiful
cove with a sandy beach. Summer cottages could be seen on the point
beyond the cove. To the north of the town was another cove and a heavily
wooded point. In an opening of the trees on this point stood white
tents.
And over all hung the mountains, the village seeming to have clambered
up the side of the nearest one as far as it could go.
It was a most beautiful and captivating scene that glorious summer
morning, and it is not strange that stoical Bart Hodge uttered an
exclamation of admiration, while Frank Merriwell cried:
"Hurrah, fellows! Here we are, and from the looks of things we'll stay a
while. There looms old Mount Megunticook, and here in the harbor, under
its shadow, we will anchor. Boys, aren't you glad you came?"
"You bet?" cried every one of them.
CHAPTER X.
TOO WELL KNOWN.
Taking care not to strike one of the line of ledges that almost closes
the mouth of Camden harbor, they ran in and dropped anchor. From the
rocks the picnickers waved white handkerchiefs and called to them. They
responded in a similar manner, with a strange lightness and exultant
feeling in their hearts. Even Bruce Browning showed enthusiasm, for he
could not help imbibing some of the spirit of the occasion.
The sails came down with a rattle and were properly and carefully taken
care of, a task that consumed time. Then every line was coiled and put
in its proper place, and nothing was neglected, so that when Frank's
orders had been obeyed, everything about the yacht was ship-shape and in
order.
Not till he had seen things in order did Frank think of leaving the
sloop. Then he asked who would stay on board and who wished to go
ashore. Diamond and Hodge were eager to go ashore. Browning and
Dunnerwust expressed a willingness to go later, so three of the crew
entered the small boat and pulled away up toward the distant wharves at
the head of the harbor.
They rowed up to a float beside a wharf. Twenty other boats floated
about the platform, and a boy was watching them.
"May we land here?" asked Frank.
"Well, I dunno," said the boy, doubtfully. "Ye see, these bo'ts are to
let. Might let yourn if some folks come along an' wanted it."
The boy grinned as he finished speaking.
"We might come back and want our boat only to find it gone," said Hodge.
"Let's not leave it here, Merriwell."
The boy gave a jump.
"What's your name?" he almost shouted, looking straight at Frank.
"It's Frank Merriwell," was the reply.
"Frank Merriwell!" yelled the boy, dancing up and down. "Whoop! I heard
you was in Rockland! My goodness! won't the fellers be tickled to see
you in this town! There ain't a chap here that don't know all about ye!
Jest you let me have yer painter! I'll take care of that bo't, an' there
don't nobody touch it, you bet!"
"Thank you," laughed Frank. "I will pay you for your trouble."
"Not by a jugful! Think I'd take any pay of you? No, sir-ee! I'd set
right here on this float an' watch your bo't for a week 'thout eatin' or
sleepin', an' never charge you a cent! I never 'spected to live to see
Frank Merriwell! Oh, Jingoes! won't the fellers be glad to see ye!"
The boy took charge of the boat. Just then another boy came onto the
wharf, and the boat boy saw him.
"Hey, there, Bennie!" he yelled. "What d'yer know? You can't guess it in
a year! He's come!"
"Who's come?"
"Frank Merriwell! Here he is!"
The jaw of the boy on the wharf dropped, and he stood staring,
open-mouthed at Frank. For some moments he seemed awe stricken, and
then, of a sudden, he turned and ran as if for his life, quickly
scudding out of sight.
"He acted as if he were scared of you, Merry," said Diamond.
"He's gone to tell t'other fellers in town," explained the boat boy.
"Say," laughed Frank, "this is getting altogether too interesting! I'd
rather not be so well known."
"Well, you can't help it," said Hodge. "They've all heard of you down
this way."
"And I had an idea they never heard of anything away down here!"
exclaimed Jack. "My ideas of this part of the country are completely
upset."
"Let's hurry into town," urged Frank. "If we wait, it's ten to one we'll
be escorted by a gang of my admirers. I haven't forgotten Rockland."
So they left the wharf and hastily walked up Bay View Street. Just as
they reached the bank building at the public square they saw a dozen
small boys coming down Elm Street on the run, headed by the one who had
disappeared so suddenly from the wharf.
The moment the running boys saw Merriwell and his companions, they
halted and huddled around the leader, who pointed at the three strangers
in the place, yelling:
"There he is, fellers!"
Frank laughed outright, and Hodge and Diamond smiled. The excitement of
the boys had attracted more or less notice, and the people on the
streets looked at the three young yachtsmen with interest.
It was the height of the season at Camden, and the town was literally
gorged with summer visitors from every part of the country, so the
streets presented a lively appearance. The handsome turnouts of
Philadelphia and New York millionaires could be seen, street cars were
running, bicycles darting hither and thither, and the pedestrians on the
streets nearly all wore clothes suitable for summer outing.
After coming up Bay View Street, which, in the neighborhood of the
wharves, did not present a very attractive appearance, the young
yachtsmen were surprised and pleased to come out to the square, where
they could look around and see handsome brick blocks and buildings of
which a city might be proud.
But the crowd of excited small boys attracted attention for the time.
They came a little nearer, and the leader cried:
"Let's give three cheers for Frank Merriwell! Ready, now! Yell, fellers,
yell!"
They did! They threw up their hands, tossed their caps into the air, and
yelled as loudly as they could.
"Great Scott!" gasped Frank. "See what they have done! Why, everybody on
the street is staring at us!"
It was true. The spectators had been attracted by the shrill cheers of
the small boys, and they were looking toward the three embarrassed lads
on the corner by the bank.
A man who was passing stopped and asked one of the boys why they were
cheering so loudly.
"See that handsome feller there with the lace on his suit?" asked the
boy, pointing Frank out.
"Yes, I see him."
"That's Frank Merriwell," declared the boy, excitedly and proudly.
"Frank Merriwell?" repeated the man, doubtfully. "Who is he?"
"W'at?" yelled the boy, voice and face expressing the greatest amazement
and scorn. "Didn't ye never hear of Frank Merriwell? Wat's ther matter
with yer? Why don't you go die!"
His contempt was crushing and humiliating, and the man passed on,
wondering who in the world Frank Merriwell could be that he was so well
known and famous.
But there were plenty of men and youths who had heard of Merriwell, and
the report that the great Yale pitcher was in town flew like wildfire.
Only the small boys stared at Frank with absolute rudeness, however.
Those older looked at him with interest, but were careful not to make
their attentions embarrassing.
Merry and his friends walked up into the village, going toward the post
office. There were pretty girls on the street, and some of them flashed
a brief, admiring glance at the trio of handsome lads in yachting suits.
The small boys trooped along behind, talking excitedly among themselves.
Their chatter was amusing to hear.
"Look here, Jimmy," cried one, in fierce contradiction of a statement
made by another, "that ain't so, an' you oughter know it! Harvard never
got fourteen hits offen Frank Merriwell in one game!"
"Fourteen hits!" yelled another, in derision. "W'at yer givin' us,
Jimmy! They never got ten hits offen him in one game! You better go read
up about him! You're woozy, that's w'at's ther matter with you!"
"That double-shoot of his is w'at paralyzes 'em," put in another. "He
can make ther ball cut all kinds of riggers in the air."
"That's all right," said Jimmy, sullenly. "Slatridge sez ther ain't no
such thing as a double-shoot. He says that 'riginated in ther mind of
some of them newspaper fellers w'at's writin' up stories 'bout Frank
Merriwell."
Then there was a howl of scorn from all the others, and one shook a
finger under Jimmy's nose, shouting:
"Slatridge knows it all--in his mind! That feller's too tired to play
baseball. He can pitch sometimes, but he don't git woke up only when he
thinks he's likely to lose his job. Don't you take stock in ev'rything
he says."
"Fellers," said a tall, solemn-looking boy, out at knees and elbows,
"I'd give a hundred thousan' dollars to see Frank Merriwell pitch
against Rockland an' use his double-shoot on 'em."
"I'd give more'n that to see it, if I jest had the price of admission
ter git inter ther game," declared a barefooted boy.
"Why don't Moslof nail him?" fiercely demanded a freckle-faced
youngster. "If I was manager of the Camdens, I wouldn't let Frank
Merriwell go away alive if he wouldn't play ball for me! I bet Rockland
will have him if Moslof don't git him."
"If Rockland gits him, Camden might jest as well crawl right into the
smallest hole she can find, and pull the hole in after her. She won't
never win another game."
The most of this talk could be distinctly heard by Frank and his
friends, and it proved very amusing.
In the window of the drug store near the post office hung a printed
poster announcing a game of ball in Camden that afternoon between
Rockland and Camden. The bill also stated that Rockland and Camden were
tied for first place in the Knox County League, so that the result of
one game would put one or the other team at the head.
"We'll have to see that game, fellows," said Frank. "It is evident that
there is plenty of baseball excitement down in this part of the
country."
At this moment two young men came down from the rooms of the Business
Men's Association in the Opera House building, and Frank uttered an
exclamation of satisfaction.
"There are two Dartmouth men, boys," he said; "Moslof and McDornick.
Moslof is managing the Camdens and playing third. Let's go over and see
them."
They walked over to meet the Dartmouth men.
CHAPTER XI.
FALSE REPORTS.
Moslof seized Frank's hand and shook it heartily.
"That Rockland affair didn't amount to anything, after all, did it?" he
asked.
"No," said Merry; "the chap who caused my arrest skipped out when he
learned that Jack Benjamin, the man I bought the yacht of, was in
Rockland. He didn't stay to press the complaint of theft. He thought
Benjamin had gone to Alaska. It must have been a frightful shock to him.
You've met Diamond? Yes. Let me introduce Bart Hodge."
"Hodge!" cried Moslof. "You caught for Merriwell this season? Jove! but
you made a record for a freshman! I am glad to know you, Hodge."
They shook hands, and Moslof said:
"Here is McDornick, our left fielder, the biggest little crank on earth
and the best base runner in the Knox County League, if I do say so! We
need more of them, too."
McDornick shook hands all round, spluttered a little about the "beastly
luck" the Camdens had been having, and ended by swearing that Camden
would "wipe up the earth" with Rockland before the season was over. He
was very vehement in his expressions.
"We've been awfully weak in the box," said Moslof. "Bascomb, of the
University of Maine, is a good little man, but he has had poor luck
against the Rocklands. That's the trouble with our pitchers. They are
all right against Thomaston, but they do not work to advantage against
Rockland, and I'll swear that Thomaston has the heaviest batting team."
"If often works that way," said Frank.
"But the worst of it is," Moslof went on, "Rockland has a pitcher who is
a hoodoo for Camden. He is pie for Thomaston, but he makes monkeys of
our men."
"Who is he?"
"Dayguild, late of the New England League. Rockland has found out that
he can play thunder with Camden, and they hold him back for us all the
time. They don't care about Thomaston; it's Camden they want to beat."
"How is it with Camden?"
"Well," laughed Moslof, "to tell the truth, the feeling is just as
strong up there. We'd give our boots to down Rockland, and we don't care
so much about Thomaston. I played with Rockland last year. They used me
well down there, but said I couldn't bat any. That made me mad. This
year for the first two weeks of our season I led the league in batting.
I am falling off a little, but still I am ahead of the average. They are
beginning to change their mind down there about my batting."
"Well," said Merry, "we are going to see your game this afternoon. I
suppose it will be pretty hot?"
"Hot! You bet! I expect Woods and Makune, of the disbanded Portlands,
here by noon. We have Williamson, of the Lewistons, but he has been ill
and is not in the best form. We're going to do our best to take the lead
again to-day. Woods is a dandy little pitcher and a fine fellow."
"But if we had you, Merriwell, we'd be all right," said McDornick. "Say,
old man, won't you pitch for us this afternoon? Makune will cover
second, and we can put Woods anywhere. With you in the box, we can
paralyze Rockland."
Frank shook his head.
"It's no use," he said. "I can't play with you."
"I hope the stories that fellow has been telling about you are not
true," said Moslof, slowly.
"What stories?"
"Why, he's been saying that Rockland had secured you sure--that you came
down into Maine on purpose to pitch for Rockland. When I told him you
had given me your word to pitch for Camden if you pitched at all, he
laughed in my face, and said I was easily fooled. He swore that he knew
for an absolute fact that you had signed with Rockland."
As Frank listened to this, he flushed and then turned pale. There came a
dangerous fire into his eyes, and he laughed in a manner that was a
danger signal for those who knew him best.
"Moslof," he said, "you must know these reports are lies. You must know
I can't sign a contract, as that would bar me from college baseball."
"I didn't believe it," said the manager of the Camdens; "but there are
plenty who did, and the men who are backing the club here are sore on me
for letting you get away after helping you out of that scrape in
Rockland. If Rockland got you now, I'd jump this town in a hurry."
"Don't let that worry you a bit, old man. I said I would pitch for
Camden if I pitched at all, and I rather think I am known as a man of my
word."
Moslof seemed relieved.
"Oh, say!" exclaimed McDormick, impulsively, "just pitch this game for
us this afternoon! We'll sink the knife deep into Rockland!"
"I hate to refuse," said Frank; "but I must. What I want to know is, who
this fellow is who has been telling that Rockland had me."
"Oh, he is a fly chap who is stopping at the Bay View--a summer
boarder."
"What does he look like?"
"He's a loud dresser--wears plaids, pink shirts, lots of rings, loud
neckties, and so forth."
"What's he look like in the face? How old is he?"
"He may be nineteen. His eyes are set near together, and he is freckled
and foxy looking."
"He's a sneak!" broke out McDornick, in his impulsive way. "I knew it
the first time I saw him."
"Where is the Bay View?" asked Merriwell.
"Right there," answered Moslof, motioning toward a large building
sitting back on the opposite side of the street.
"This fellow is stopping there?"
"Yes."
"What is his name?"
"Don't know."
"Let's go over. I want to see that gentleman. I hope we may find him
around the hotel."
"If you'll punch him, I'll pay your fine!" said the hot-headed
McDornick, as they crossed the street.
While they had been talking in front of the opera house, a small boy was
standing near them, his hands clasped and an ecstatic look of happiness
on his face, while his eyes were not taken off Frank Merriwell for a
moment. When Frank had started to cross the street with the others, the
boy heaved a sigh.
A gentleman who was passing stopped and looked at the boy in surprise.
"Well, my little man," said the gentleman, "what is the trouble? You
look as if you had seen a vision."
"I've jest seen somebody I never thought I'd see," said the boy. "Oh,
I'd like to grow up and be famous like him! It must be fine to be
famous."
"My boy," said the gentleman, encouragingly, "if you live you may be a
great man some day."
"I can't never be like the feller I've just seen."
"Why, who could this wonderful person have been? I didn't know there was
such a famous man stopping in Camden at present. Was it the governor of
the State?"
"Naw! Somebody bigger'n him!"
"A United States Senator, perhaps?"
"Senators ain't in it with this feller!"
"Really! You surprise and interest me. It could not have been the
President of the United States?"
"Bigger feller than the Prince of Wales! Oh, if I could grow up to be
like him!"
"Now I am astounded!" exclaimed the gentleman. "Who can this wonderful
person be? Won't you tell me his name?"
"His name is Frank Merriwell, and he is a lollypolooser! He's the most
wonderful feller living in the whole world."
"Frank Merriwell?" repeated the gentleman, in perplexity. "It's strange
I never heard of him. What has he ever done?"
"Done?" cried the boy, excitedly and enthusiastically. "What ain't he
done? He's traveled round the world, shot panthers and Greasers in South
America, gorillas in Africa, tigers in India, elephants in Ceylon, and
bears and other critters out West in this country. Done? Why, he made a
bicycle trip across the country from New York to San Francisco, and he
licked everybody that tried to bother him on the way. Done? Mister, he
goes to Yale College, and he is the greatest football player in the
world! He pitches on the Yale nine, and he wiped up the earth with
Harvard and Princeton this spring. Done? If there's a thing that feller
ain't done an' can't do, I want ter know it!"
The gentleman was gasping for breath.
"Really!" he said, "a most remarkable person! And you want to grow up
and be like him?"
"If I thought I could--if I ever did, I'd die happy!"
"Strange I never heard of this person before. I don't believe he is very
well known."
"Now, don't fool yourself, mister. He's known by every boy in the United
States! We've all heard of him, and all the boys down in this town would
give anything to be like him. I tell you he is a bird!"
"Where is he now?"
"He's just gone over to the Bay View with Moslof and some other
fellers."
"Really, I believe I'll have to go over and see what this wonderful
person looks like," and the gentleman crossed the street toward the
hotel.
In the meantime Frank and his companions entered the hotel in search of
the person who had been circulating the false reports about Merriwell.
The report that Merriwell was in town had reached the hotel, and no
sooner had the boys entered the office than the landlord came forward
and greeted them heartily. Moslof introduced Merry and his two friends.
The landlord proved to be a cordial, pleasant gentleman.
"Mr. Merriwell," he said, "you have caused me no end of trouble."
"I have?" exclaimed Frank, astonished.
"Yes."
"How is that?"
"Well, there isn't a table girl, a kitchen girl or any other girl in
this house who does not know all about you. They read those yarns about
you so much that they neglect their business. And, Mr. Merriwell," with
sudden sternness, "I think you will have to settle with me for it."
"All right," smiled Frank. "What is the bill?"
"There is no bill. I mean you have to settle at this hotel and stay here
while you are in town. There will be no bill. You shall have the best
the house affords, and it shall not cost you a red cent."
Frank was surprised, but he thanked the genial landlord, saying:
"Really, sir, you are too kind, but we have everything comfortable on my
yacht, and the fellows would not like it if I deserted them."
"Then bring them all here! I'm crowded, but I'll find room for you, if I
have to give up a room myself."
He was in earnest, too.
Frank thanked him warmly once more, but exclaimed that such a thing
would not do, as the _White Wings_ might be stolen by the party who had
attempted to seize her in the very mouth of Rockland harbor.
While they were talking, a very pretty, roguish-eyed girl came into the
office, making an excuse that she was there on some sort of an errand.
She cast sly glances at Frank, for really she was there to see him.
Of a sudden the landlord, laughing, caught her by the arm, and drew her
round, saying:
"Here, Mr. Merriwell, is your greatest admirer in the house, Miss Phebe
Macey. I heard her say once that she thought Frank Merriwell the finest
fellow in the world, and she wondered why some of the Camden boys were
not like him."
Frank was a little confused, but he lifted his cap and bowed, saying:
"Miss Macey, I am glad to know I have such an ardent admirer here."
Phebe was blushing crimson, but the roguish look was still in her eyes.
Never in all her life had she looked prettier than in that moment of
excitement and confusion. She lifted her hand and felt it grasped by
Frank, and then, in dismay, she turned and fled, laughing to cover her
agitation. She quickly disappeared, but her laugh rang in Merriwell's
ears, for it was quite as bewitching as her roguish eyes.
The landlord seemed to enjoy the agitation he had caused the girl, and
he laughed again. In fact, he was quite a man to laugh.
He urged Frank to remain to dinner, and Merry finally consented,
although Jack and Bart, who were likewise invited, decided to return to
the yacht.
While they were talking, Moslof suddenly grasped Merriwell's arm, saying
in his ear:
"Here's the fellow you want to see."
He turned Frank toward a person who had just entered the office. In a
moment Merry advanced toward that person, confronted him, and sternly
said:
"So, sir, having failed to injure me in other ways, you have been lying
about me! Well, it's quite like you, Snell!"
"Merriwell?" gasped the other, recoiling and turning pale. "The
dickens!"
Frank and his old foe, Wat Snell, were again face to face.
CHAPTER XII.
SNELL IS FIRED.
"So it's that sneak who has been telling yarns!" grated Bart Hodge. "I
hope Merriwell will smash him!"
"If he doesn't, I will!" muttered Jack Diamond. "I thought we had seen
the last of him when we left Fardale."
"I hoped so," confessed Hodge.
"But I can't have a fight here," said the landlord, firmly. "It won't
do."
He seemed on the point of interfering between Frank and Wat, but Hodge
said:
"A word to Merriwell is enough, Mr. Drayben. He will be careful not to
cause you any trouble."
Mr. Drayben saw that Merriwell was holding himself in reserve, and he
felt a sudden curiosity to know what would pass between the enemies who
had met there in his hotel, so he did not speak to Frank at once.
"Where is your fine friend, Mr. Parker Flynn, who you aided in your
piratical attempt to seize my yacht?" asked Frank.
Snell swallowed down a lump in his throat and made an effort to recover
his composure.
"The yacht belongs to Mr. Flynn," he said, huskily, his voice betraying
his craven spirit.
"You know better than that! If so, why didn't Flynn remain in Rockland
and push the case against me? Why did he suddenly take to his heels when
he learned that Benjamin, from whom I bought the _White Wings_, was in
Rockland?"
"Business called him back to Boston," faltered Snell.
"And business called you out of Rockland in a hurry, too. But you
stopped too soon. It would have been better for you if you had kept on
going."
Snell understood Merriwell's meaning and he quailed before the flashing
eyes of the boy he had slandered.
"Oh, you can't scare me with your threats!" he declared, in a weak
manner. "I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Frank Merriwell."
"If you had kept still about me," said Frank, "I should not have known
you were in this town, but you tried to hurt me in a mean, contemptible
manner, and I found you out."
"Never tried to hurt you in any manner."
"How about the lies you have been circulating concerning me?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do."
"I swear I do not."
"You have been telling that I have signed a contract with Rockland."
"Well, haven't you?"
"You know I have not! You know I would not do such a thing for any
money, as it would disqualify me for the Yale team. But I fancy I see
through your crooked game. You thought I might pitch for Rockland
because you knew they would offer me more money than Camden possibly
could. You judged me by yourself, and you knew you would sell yourself
to do anything for money. You sought to turn the college men here
against me, so they would carry back the report to their colleges that I
had played for money under a signed contract. Then I would be debarred
from the Yale team, and your revenge would be complete. Oh, I can read
you, Snell--I know the workings of your evil mind! You are wholly
crooked and wholly contemptible. What you deserve is a good coat of tar
and feathers!"
Frank's plain words had drawn a crowd about them, and Drayben saw it
would not do not to interfere, as the talk could be heard in the
parlors.
"This will have to stop," he said, firmly. "I can't have any more of it
in my hotel."
"He is to blame for it all," whined Snell.
The landlord gave him a look of contempt.
"I do not blame him for anything," he declared. "I know you have told
the stories he claims. My only wonder is that he did not knock you down
on sight."
"I might have done so," said Frank, "but was ashamed to soil my hands on
the fellow."
At this, thinking he was not in danger of immediate personal violence,
Snell became suddenly bold.
"That is well enough to tell," he said; "but no one will believe it. You
will find that you can't crowd me, Mr. Merriwell."
"I don't want to crowd you, but I want you to keep your mouth closed as
far as I am concerned. If you try to circulate any more lies about me, I
shall forget that you are a whining cur, without a spark of courage in
your whole body, and I shall give you the drubbing you deserve."
"Bah!" cried Snell.
"As I have discovered the sort of a person you are," said Mr. Drayben,
quietly but sternly, "I do not care to keep you in my hotel another
hour."
"What?" gasped Snell. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you are to pack up and get out at once."
"But you can't turn me out in that manner. This is a public house, and
you have no right to turn me out like that!"
"I have the right to refuse to keep rascals and crooks in my house,
sir. It is my duty to protect my guests by turning out such persons when
their true character is discovered. You will get out as soon as you
can."
"Do--do--do you dare call me a rascal and a crook?" gurgled Snell. "Take
care, sir!" shaking his finger at the landlord. "My father is a rich
man. He is at the head of the Yokohama and Manhattan Tea Company, Mr.
Drayben, and he will make you regret it if you turn me out of your old
hotel!"
"I don't care if your father is the Mikado of Japan or the Mayor of New
York!" came from the landlord, who flushed with anger when Snell shook a
finger at him; "you will get out of this house in a hurry, just the
same."
"You can't turn me out till after dinner!"
"Can't I? We'll see about that!"
"But it's almost dinner time now."
"That makes no difference. You can't eat another meal here. Settle and
git!"
It was a terrible humiliation for Snell, but he found there was no
appeal, and he was forced to settle his bill, pack his traveling bag,
and leave the hotel without his dinner.
"I have not liked the appearance of the fellow from the start," said Mr.
Drayben. "He talked too much. If he stayed in the house another week, he
would have driven away some of my best guests. You have done me a favor,
Mr. Merriwell, by giving me an excuse for getting rid of him."
"He's a revengeful sneak," said Frank. "He'll try to get even with me
some way."
Jack and Bart decided it was time for them to return to the yacht, and
so they left Merriwell at the hotel, surrounded by several members of
the Camden ball team, who had come in to see him.
Moslof introduced Frank to the members of the team as they appeared,
and Merry shook hands with Slatridge and Putbury, the principal battery
of the nine, two men who were red-headed, freckled, slow of movement,
slow of speech, and who looked so much alike that in their uniforms one
was often mistaken for the other. Cogern, the center fielder of the
team, was another big fellow, who was said to be a terrific batter,
being valuable for that very reason. Williamson proved to be tall and
thin, but "Pop" had a reputation as a pitcher and a hitter. On account
of his illness he had not been able to pitch since joining the Camdens,
and so he was covering first base. Mower was a professional, and a good
man when he attended to business. He played short. Bascomb, a little
fellow, with a swagger and a grin that showed some very poor teeth, was
change pitcher with Slatridge.
Frank looked the men over. They were a clean-looking set of ball
players, and he was favorably impressed with them.
"Why, you seem to have a strong team here," he said to Moslof. "I
fancied by what I heard down in Rockland that you had a lot of farmers."
"They know better than that!" exclaimed the manager of the Camdens,
flushing. "We gave them a shock by winning from them in our opening
game. They thought they had a snap. They have been hustling since then,
but we held the lead for a long time. Now we are tied with them for
first place, and this game to-day decides who holds the position. If
Woods and Makune arrive on the twelve o'clock car, we'll try to give
Rockland a surprise this afternoon."
"Woods is a pitcher, isn't he?"
"He is, and he's a good man, too, but his arm is not in the best
condition. He hurt it a few weeks ago, and it hasn't got back yet. All
the same, he says he will pitch for us this afternoon--telephoned me to
that effect. He's on the level, and he wouldn't want to pitch if he
didn't think he could win."
"Then I don't see why you want anything of me," smiled Frank.
"Woods can play any position," said Moslof, quickly. "With you in the
box, we'd have the strongest nine ever seen in this State."
"You have started my baseball blood to boiling," laughed Merry; "but I
think I'll keep my head cool and not play."
At this moment some one announced that the twelve o'clock car was
coming, and all hurried out to see if Woods and Makune were on it.
They were. They were met by Moslof, who shook hands with them and then
introduced them to Merriwell.
"What?" exclaimed Makune. "Frank Merriwell, the Yale man?"
"The same," confessed Frank.
"Why, Portland tried to get you two weeks ago, but couldn't get track of
you. Moslof, you did a good trick when you nailed Merriwell."
"But I haven't nailed him," said the manager of the Camdens. "I've tried
every way possible to get him. He is stopping here on his own yacht."
Woods did not seem to be much of a talker, but when he shook hands with
Merry, many in the crowd noticed a strong resemblance between them.
Merriwell was the taller and darker. Woods was very quiet in his manner,
and he impressed the observer favorably at a glance. He had the air of a
gentleman, even though he was a professional ball player.
That day Woods, Makune, Moslof and Merriwell dined together at the Bay
View, and Frank told himself that never had he met a pleasanter set of
fellows. There was something about Woods that drew Merry to him in a
most remarkable manner. Frank had not known him an hour before he felt
as if they were old friends.
"Do you think you can win from Rockland this afternoon, Walter?" asked
Moslof.
"I can try," said Woods, quietly.
"Win!" exclaimed Makune. "Why, he is sure to win! If you have the team
you say you have, we'll eat Rockland."
"How's your arm, Walter?" asked Moslof.
"I think it's all right," assured Woods.
"All right!" cried Makune. "Of course it's all right! Never was better.
You didn't hurt it much, anyway, Walt."
"Yes, I did," declared Woods, truthfully. "I thought I had killed it,
and I reckoned that my ball playing days were over. I didn't care much,
either. If it hadn't been for you, Makune, I'd quit, anyway."
"Oh, you're too sensitive!" chuckled Makune. "You see, gentlemen, Walter
doesn't drink a drop, doesn't smoke, chew or swear, won't play cards for
money--in fact, hasn't a single vice. The fellows jolly him about it,
and it makes him sore."
Frank's sympathy was with Woods at once.
After dinner Woods and Makune went to their rooms to change their
clothes, and Merry went out to stroll through the town.
Frank found himself stared at in a manner that was rather embarrassing.
In the candy store opposite the Bay View were a number of girls who
seemed to be watching for him to appear. They did not try to flirt with
him, but it was obvious that everyone of them was "just dying" for a
fair look at him.
Frank walked down through town and strolled up onto High Street as far
as the handsome stone mansion known as "Villa Norembega." Here he was at
the very base of the mountains, and he could look out over the harbor
and the bay. The view was the most beautiful his eyes had ever rested
upon, and he stood there gazing upon it for a long time. Down in the
harbor, amid the other yachts, the _White Wings_ lay at anchor, and his
keen eyes could detect figures moving about on her deck.
"Jingoes!" thought Merry. "This is a lovely spot. I wonder more people
do not come here during summer. There can't be anything more beautiful
at Bar Harbor."
He walked back into town, and, on the corner near Wiley's market, he met
McDornick and Cogern, who were in their ball suits. He paused to chat
with them a moment.
"We'll have a mob up from Rockland this afternoon," said Cogern. "They
know we've got Woods and Makune."
"Perhaps they won't come for that very reason," said McDornick. "They
may not want to see their team beaten. We'll give them fits to-day."
"Baseball is something you can't depend on," said Frank, warningly.
"Don't be too sure of winning. I have seen a strong team lose just
because it was too confident."
"If we had you this afternoon we couldn't lose," declared Cogern.
"That is not certain," smiled Merry; "but I guess you are all right,
anyway."
"Here comes the two o'clock car from Rockland," said McDornick. "Wonder
if it brought up any rooters?"
The car was coming down around the curve, the motorman letting it run
without power, as the grade was rather steep there.
Of a sudden, Cogern uttered a cry, and Frank heard a sound that caused
him to whirl about instantly.
On the track directly in front of the oncoming car, a young girl had
fallen from her bicycle. She seemed to be stunned, and the car was
rushing upon her swiftly, although the frantic motorman was banging the
gong and twisting away at the brake with all his strength.
Cries of horror went up from twenty persons who witnessed the downfall
of the girl, for it looked as if the car must pass directly over her.
Quick as thought Frank Merriwell sprang to save the imperiled girl. Two
panther-like bounds took him to the car track, and he stooped to lift
her.
Again there were cries of horror, for it seemed that the car must knock
him down, and that two lives instead of one would be crushed out beneath
the wheels. Women on the street turned their heads away that they might
not witness the awful tragedy.
It did not seem that Frank paused in his rush, although he stooped,
caught hold of the girl, lifted her and bore her on. He snatched her up
in a manner that utterly bewildered every person who witnessed the act,
and then, as the car seemed sure to strike him, with one of those
wonderful leaps, he cleared the track, holding the girl in his arms.
He felt the car brush his elbow, but that was all. He was not harmed,
and the girl was safe in his arms, although her wheel was crushed
beneath the wheels of the car.
People came rushing toward them from all directions, but Frank did not
mind them at that moment. He looked down at the pale face of the panting
girl.
"Miss Macey!" he exclaimed.
It was the pretty, roguish-eyed girl to whom he had been introduced by
Landlord Drayben.
"You are not hurt, are you?" he asked.
"No," she faintly whispered, a bit of color coming back to her face;
"but you saved me from being killed, Mr. Merriwell."
"Well," Frank was forced to confess, "I think I did get you away just in
time."
"My bicycle----"
"Smashed."
"Oh, I'm so sorry! But I'd rather it would be that than myself. Thank
you, Mr. Merriwell."
"I am happy to do so much for you. My only regret is that I was not able
to save your wheel, too."
"You did all you could," she said, a bit of the roguish light coming
back to her eyes. "I didn't suppose you would do so much for me, a
stranger."
"I'm always ready to do anything in my power for a pretty girl," said
Merry, softly, with laughing seriousness.
"Then pitch for the Camdens this afternoon," murmured Phebe. "Will you?"
Frank was thrown into consternation, for he saw he was trapped.
"It's too late now," he said. "Moslof has decided to pitch Woods. If
asked again to pitch, I'll do it."
By this time they were surrounded by the crowd. A dozen men were asking
Phebe if she were hurt, or were loudly praising Merriwell for his prompt
action in going to her rescue.
"Let me escort you to the hotel," said Frank. "I will return and see
about your broken wheel."
"If you will be so kind," she murmured.
Then, with her clinging to his arm, they walked toward the hotel. It
seemed that two hundred persons knew what had happened. A score of girls
saw Phebe Macey clinging to Frank's arm, and even though she had lost
her bicycle beneath the wheels of the car, she was envied by them all.
CHAPTER XIII.
QUICK WORK.
A steady stream of men, women, boys and girls were pouring in at the
entrance of the Camden ball ground, which lay in a most picturesque
location directly at the foot of the mountains. It was plain that the
greatest crowd of the season had turned out to witness the struggle
which should place either Rockland or Camden at the head of the Knox
County League.
The grand stand filled rapidly. It was a hot afternoon, but there was a
draught through the grand stand, so that the upper seats were
comfortable. Beyond the dusty diamond the green woods looked cool and
inviting.
The ball ground was on an elevated spot, from which a view of the
village and bay could be obtained. Winding through the distant line of
woods the river might be seen. Away to the west loomed a range of purple
mountains.
Dressed in their scarlet uniforms, the Camdens were on the field
practicing. Although Bascomb was going to be on the bench that
afternoon, he was warming up as if he expected to go into the box. He
had cast aside cap and sweater, and was pitching all kinds of shoots to
a young chap he had found willing to catch him. Woods was batting to the
infield, but somebody was needed to give the outfield some work.
Merriwell was called for by McDornick.
Frank was leaning on the rail down near the peanut stand, Diamond,
Hodge, Browning and Dunnerwust being with him. The entire party had left
the yacht to witness the game of ball, but the _White Wings_ was being
watched by a young man on another yacht that lay near her.
"Where's Frank Merriwell?" cried McDornick from the field. "Let him
knock out some sky scrapers for us."
Moslof asked Merriwell to bat some to the outfield, and so Frank tossed
aside his yachting jacket and advanced toward the plate.
There was a sudden burst of applause from the grand stand and it went
all round the ground, bringing a hot flush to Merry's face.
"I wish they wouldn't do that!" he muttered.
Surely he was a handsome-looking fellow in his yachting suit. He
selected a bat, and then, without any apparent effort, drove out a high
liner for Cogern in deep center. He gave the fielders all the work they
wanted.
"Here come the Rocklands!"
A great crowd was coming up the road, in the van of which could be seen
the boys in gray from the Limerock City. The Rockland rooters had not
been frightened away by the report that Woods and Makune would play with
Camden. They were coming in a body to whoop and yell and growl for their
team--yes, to fight for it, if necessary.
They poured into the ground. All the available standing room was taken,
and the crowd overflowed so that it encroached upon the field. The
Camdens came in and let their opponents have the field for practice.
"Fellows," smiled Frank, as he joined his friends, "this is going to be
a hot afternoon."
"All of that," nodded Hodge. "It's plain there is an intense feeling of
rivalry between these two towns."
"Say, fellows," put in Jack Diamond, "I haven't stopped wondering yet."
"What about?" asked Frank.
"This part of the country. You told me we would have sport down here,
but I never expected anything like this. Why, there's rivers of sporting
blood in this section! How do they get together such ball teams? Camden
must pay Mower big money, or he would be in one of the big leagues. They
must have coughed liberally to Woods and Makune, for either of those two
fellows could get into a big league. Rockland has a full-salaried team,
and they say she pays her men two hundred and fifty dollars a week all
told. That's more money than the New England League pays."
"They don't go into anything halfway down here," smiled Merry. "I fancy
the ball team is a good thing for Camden. It advertises the town, as all
the games are reported in the Boston dailies, and it attracts summer
visitors. A good percentage of the spectators here now are summer
people."
The Rockland team began practice. They appeared more like professionals,
taken as a whole, than the Camdens, nearly all of whom seemed college
lads.
Practice was over in a short time, and then the home team prepared to go
to bat first, and the umpire took his position and called "play."
Although the Rockland "rooters" were on hand to shout for their team,
the fact that Camden had Woods and Makune made them cautious about
offering bets. In fact, two of Rockland's principal "sports" were
seeking to put money on Camden, but could not find takers without giving
odds.
Dayguild, Rockland's champion pitcher, the man held in reserve for
Camden, was sent into the box. He had seemed to hoodoo Camden, and
Rocklandites hoped he would keep up the good work.
Some Thomaston men who had come over to see the game stopped near
Merriwell and his party and laughed over the "snap" Camden would have
that day. One of them was telling the others how easy it was to rattle
Dayguild and break his courage by hitting him hard and putting two
rattling coachers on the line to keep him "up in the air." Frank did not
miss a word of this talk.
"Pop" Williamson was the first man to go to bat for Camden. He stood up
at the plate and looked at Dayguild. Dayguild laughed at him, saying:
"Pop, you're easy."
"Pop" laughed back, observing:
"I have to be easy with you, Gil, or I'd show you up, and you would lose
your job."
"That's what I call wit!" exclaimed Merriwell, in appreciation. "Pop is
all right. He'll get a hit."
He did. He cracked out Dayguild's first ball for an easy single, and
laughed at the Rockland pitcher as he trotted down to first.
"Thought I wouldn't put it into the woods this time, Gil," he said.
"That's a good start to rattle Dayguild if they would get after him,"
said a Thomaston man.
But Camden made the mistake of splitting her coachers, putting one at
third and one at first, and the men did not "open up" in a way to get
the Rockland pitcher on the string.
Putbury, or "Old Put," followed Williamson. He was a left-hand hitter,
and a good man, but Dayguild managed to give him the "evil eye" and
struck him out.
"I'm afraid you won't get away from first, Pop," said Dayguild, winking
at Williamson in a tantalizing manner.
"Oh, there's lots of time," returned the runner, calmly.
Cogern followed Putbury. He fanned twice, and then he cracked out a
daisy cutter that looked like a safe hit, for it got past the pitcher
and was going directly over second, with Smithers, the baseman, playing
away off.
But Smithers was a little fellow who could cover ground wonderfully. How
he ever reached second as soon as the ball and gathered it in was a
marvel, but he did the trick with an ease that brought an exclamation
of admiration from Merriwell.
As he picked the ball off the ground Smithers touched second and put
Williamson out. Then he whirled like a cat and sent the ball whistling
to first.
Rockland's first baseman smothered it with ease before Cogern could get
much more than halfway down the line, and a double play had been made,
which retired Camden with a whitewash as a starter.
What a wild howl of satisfaction went up from the throats of the
Rockland rooters! How they hammered on the railing and yelled! Their
satisfaction was unlimited, for they had not dreamed there could be such
a happy termination of the Camden's half of the first inning.
"Sorry for you, Pop," grinned Dayguild.
"It's a good thing for you there was a man like Smithers on second,"
returned Williamson. "It was a clean case of luck."
At this Dayguild laughed derisively, walking in to the bench.
Camden took the field. Woods stripped off his sweater and went into the
box. He was a clean, fine-looking fellow in his suit. He had warmed up a
little, and now he tossed a few to Williamson, who was on first.
Smithers, the captain of the Rocklands, was the first man to go to the
plate. He was known to be a most remarkable little hitter, without a
weak point that any pitcher had been able to discover.
Woods looked Smithers over, and then sent in a swift one that the little
man let pass.
The umpire called a ball.
"Whew!" exclaimed Diamond. "That's what I call speed."
"You don'd peen aple to seen dot pall ad all, eh?" cried Hans.
"Merry," said Bart, "Woods is the first fellow I ever saw who reminded
me of you in the box."
Smithers went after the next ball, but fouled it over the fence, and a
new ball was put into play. Again and again he fouled.
"You are finding him," cried the Rockland rooters.
At last Smithers hit it fairly on the trade mark, and sent it out into
right field for a single.
The Rockland crowd was delighted.
"Why, Woods is easy!" they roared.
Woods was not ruffled in the least. When the ball was thrown in, he
entered the box with it immediately, and then suddenly snapped his left
foot out and shot the ball over to first.
Smithers saved himself by a hair's breadth. It was a close decision on
the part of the umpire.
"Did you get onto that motion with his foot?" came eagerly from Hodge.
"It's Merriwell exactly! Why, the fellow appears more and more like you,
Frank!"
"That's so," grunted Browning.
Edwards, Rockland's shortstop, followed Smithers at bat. He was a large,
stocky, red-headed fellow, inclined to swagger and make more or less
unnecessary talk, but a good ball player and a hard hitter.
"Don't let him catch you, Smithers," he cried. "I'll land you on third."
Woods smiled. He was feeling first rate, and he did not believe Edwards
could keep his word. While standing carelessly in the box, he gave a
hitch at his pants with both hands, the right hand holding the ball, and
then sent a scorcher over the plate so quickly that Edwards was not
prepared and did not offer at it.
"One strike!" decided the umpire.
"That's the way to fool 'em on the first one," laughed Frank Merriwell,
softly. "Woods is up to tricks. Boys, that fellow is a dandy, I
believe."
Smithers tried to get a good start from first, but Woods kept him close
to the base, much to the delight of the Camden crowd. All Camden was
confident that Rockland was doomed to defeat that day.
The second ball was a coaxer, but Edwards let it pass. Then came another
swift one, and the batter went after it and missed it entirely.
The Camden crowd howled its delight.
"That's the stuff, Woodsie!" yelled a voice. "Leave Smithers on first,
same as they left Williamson."
"He can't do it, you know!" sung back a Rockland rooter.
Woods was the essence of coolness. He teased Edwards with two out-drops,
and then he seemed to gather himself for a speedy one. As the batting
score stood three balls and two strikes, the batter felt that Woods
would use a straight, swift ball and try to cut a corner of the plate.
Woods seemed to send the ball with all the strength he could command,
but, strange to say, it lingered in the air, and, too late, Edwards saw
it was a slow one.
The big shortstop bit at it. He smashed at it with all his strength, and
he hit the ball with the tip of his bat. The coacher had sent Smithers
for second on that ball when it left Woods' hand. It was too late to
stop him when they saw the ball popped up into the air as an easy
infield fly.
Makune called out that he would take it, and ran in under it. Edwards,
who had a lame knee, ran as if sprinting for his life. The ball hung in
the air a long time, while Makune stood under it, waiting for it to come
down.
When it did come down it created one of the sensations of the day, for
it dropped into Makune's hands and fell out. There was a roar of
astonishment that this crack infielder of the New England League should
drop a ball like that. Makune was the most astonished man within the
inclosure of that ball ground, for he had not done anything like that
before during the entire season.
Then there was a kick, as Moslof claimed that Makune dropped it
purposely, and, as he had thrown the ball over to first on picking it
up, Edwards was out on an infield fly, even though he had reached the
base ahead of the ball.
The umpire knew his business, however, and did not get rattled. He knew
that the rules declared a batter was out on an infield fly that could be
handled, providing there was a runner on first; even though the fielder
dropped the ball for the purpose of luring the man off first. But
Smithers had left first before Edwards struck the ball and was well on
his way to second, while Makune had not dropped the fly as a trick, but
because he could not hold it. The umpire decided that Smithers had
stolen second and Edwards was safe on first, which caused the Rockland
crowd to go wild with satisfaction, while the Camdenites groaned in
dismay, those who did not understand the point in the game declaring it
was an outrage, and those who did feeling that the umpire understood it
too well to be fooled.
Gulsiver, Rockland's center fielder, was the next batter. He went after
the second ball and found it, knocking it straight at Mower. Mower was
an erratic player, and, on this occasion, he stopped the ball, but he
chased it around his feet long enough to permit Gulsiver to get first
safely, and Smithers and Edwards moved up a base each.
The bags were full!
"That's a hard start for Camden," said Frank Merriwell, feeling his
sympathy go out toward the boys in red.
"Dot Voods don'd seem to peen doin' a great deal mit der Rocklandt
poys," observed Hans.
"It's not Woods' fault," declared Merry. "Smithers is the only man who
has secured a hit off him."
If Woods was worried or disgusted, he did not betray it. He continued to
pitch coolly and deliberately, for all the yelling of the Rockland crowd
and chinning of the coachers.
He struck out the next man, and followed that up by causing Hammond, the
fifth batter, to put up a low, infield fly, which Woods looked after
himself and caught.
Then it was Camden's turn to howl again, for, although the bases were
full, two men had been sent to the bench in a minute by the cool little
pitcher in crimson.
"This looks better," said Merriwell, beginning to smile again. "I'll bet
something Rockland does not score."
Shaddock was the next man at bat. Woods fooled him on a wide curve and a
swift inshoot. Then Shaddock got mad and nearly broke his back hitting
the ball.
The ball struck the ground near the home plate and rolled lazily down
toward third. Smithers had started for home, and Woods started for the
ball. As he passed the ball, Smithers tried to kick it aside, even
though he was taking chances of being seen by the umpire in doing the
trick. He failed to touch it, however, and, the next instant, Woods
gathered it up with one hand, taking it as he ran directly from first
base. Smithers was between him and the plate, and he could not see the
catcher. He did not hesitate a fraction of a second, he did not even
pause to straighten up, but, in a stooping position, he swung his arm
low and sent the ball whistling to first. Spectators afterward declared
that at no time was that ball more than two feet above the ground. It
went straight to first, Williamson gathered it in, and the Rocklands
were out without scoring.
Then such a roar went up to the heights of old Megunticook! The old
mountain must have fancied that the Indian warriors of long, long years
ago had returned and were holding a mighty powwow down there in its
shadow.
Men and boys were frantic. They hammered each other on the back, they
flung their hats into the air. Women screamed with joy and waved their
handkerchiefs. And Woods--just then he was the hero of the moment.
Scores of pretty girls were hugging each other and declaring that he was
"just perfectly lovely." But he was as cool and unruffled as ever,
seemingly utterly deaf to the roars of applause.
"I guess Camden is all right, after all," laughed Merriwell.
"Woods is a dandy," said Diamond.
"They do not need me to pitch for them to-day," declared Frank.
Dayguild grinned and chewed gum as he entered the box and faced little
McDornick, champion base runner of the Camdens. McDornick was
palpitating with eagerness to hit the ball. He hated to let the first
one pass, although Dayguild sent in a wide teaser. He went for the
second one, and hammered it out for two bags, although with an ordinary
runner it would have been no more than a pretty single.
"Gil, you're pie," laughed Williamson, from the bench.
"You will find him hot pie before the game is over," said a Rockland
man.
Moslof went to bat. He was eager, also--far too eager, for he struck at
the first ball, although it was not within reach. But McDornick stole
third on it, reaching the bag in advance of the ball by a beautiful lone
slide.
Then Moslof batted one down to Edwards and was thrown out at first.
Mower came next. Sometimes he was a hitter. This was not one of the
times. He fanned out, and still McDornick was shivering on third.
Makune faced Dayguild. It was not for the first time, as he had faced
him many times before in the New England League. Although Makune was not
a heavy hitter, he had done remarkable work for the first of the season,
and Dayguild was afraid of him. With the ball under his arm, the
Rockland pitcher turned to observe the positions of the men in the
field. His back was toward McDornick.
There was a shout of warning from the crowd, and Dayguild whirled to see
a figure in crimson shooting toward the plate like a streak of fire.
It was McDornick attempting to steal home!
The nerve of the act dazed Dayguild for a moment, and then he threw the
ball to the catcher, thinking to put out the runner with ease.
The catcher dropped it!
McDornick made a headlong plunge for the plate, touched it, leaped up
and dodged away before the catcher could pick up the ball.
Camden had scored!
Roar, roar, roar! The crowd went wild with joy. The black cliffs above
flung back the burst of sound. It seemed enough to wake the dead in the
distant cemetery tinder the slope of Battie. It was heard far down in
the heart of the town, and it brought more spectators hurrying to the
ball ground.
Williamson sat on the bench and laughed tauntingly at Dayguild, who was
flustered and excited.
"Now, if they know how to do the trick, they can win the game in this
inning," said a Thomaston man.
But Makune was not in good form, and he rolled one down to third, being
thrown out at first, which retired Camden with one score.
But Woods pitched wonderful ball the next inning, and Rockland was given
another whitewash.
By this time Dayguild had recovered his composure, and he pitched so
well that Slatridge, Woods and Williamson went out in quick succession.
Then came a fatal half for Camden. Merriwell had seen Woods feeling of
his elbow and working it as if it did not feel just right, and he was
not surprised when Rockland fell to batting the new pitcher of the
Camdens.
"Moslof ought to take Woods out," Frank said to Diamond. "He has hurt
that lame arm already."
"You must be wrong, Merry," said the Virginian. "See the speed he is
using. Why, I can hardly see the ball as it goes over the plate."
"Speed is all he is using," declared Merriwell, "and Rockland is eating
speed. He can't use his curves, as it hurts his arm to do so."
Now the Rockland crowd had a chance to yell and laugh, and cheer, for,
although Woods seemed to be pitching good ball, the "Limeburners" had
donned their "batting clothes," and were hitting anything and
everything. The fielders were kept busy, and Rockland players chased
each other round the bases till six scores had come in.
"I said Moslof ought to take Woods out," said Merriwell, soberly. "The
game is lost now."
"Woods can't be the pitcher we thought he was," said Diamond, in
disappointment.
"Woods is all right if he doesn't spoil that arm," asserted Frank. "If
he sticks to professional ball and takes care of his arm, he'll be in
the National League before many years."[1]
[Footnote 1: A prophecy that has come true, as Walter Woods was signed
by Chicago several years ago. He can play any position on the diamond,
and is one of the cleanest men in the business. Not long ago he pitched
on the Camden team of the Knox County League, in the State of Maine.
Sockalexis, the Indian player, who was with the Clevelands last season,
and who created a sensation wherever he appeared, also played in the
Knox County League.--The Author.]
At last Woods struck out the third man, and Rockland was retired, but
not till she had secured a lead of five scores.
Dayguild laughed at Williamson as he went into the box.
"It's all over now," he declared. "Camden is buried."
"You can't tell about that," returned Williamson. "You have had your
turn, ours will come."
But it did not come that day, although Woods pitched the game out and
held Rockland down so that she obtained but one more score. The game
finally ended seven to five in favor of Rockland.
A more delighted crowd than the rooters from the Limerock city could not
be found. They guyed every Camdenite they knew. They declared that
Camden was a snap for Rockland, and always would be a snap. They were
insolent in their satisfaction and delight.
Down into town rushed the Rocklandites. They bought every tin horn they
could find, and at least a dozen cow bells. They bought tin pans and
drummed on them with sticks. They bought brooms and paraded with them to
indicate that they had swept Camden clean. They made a frightful racket
in the very heart of the village, and their scornful remarks about
Camden and Camdenites in general were of a nature to arouse the anger
of any inhabitant of the town at the foot of the mountains.
At last the cars from Rockland came, three of them being required to
handle the crowd. They piled on and went out of Camden blowing horns,
ringing bells, beating tin pans and howling derision.
Frank Merriwell stood on the corner near the opera house and heard all
this. He could feel the blood within him getting warmer and warmer. He
considered Moslof a fine fellow and he admired Woods. His sympathy was
with Camden.
Moslof and Woods came down the street together and paused near Frank.
Woods was making no excuses.
"They hit me out, that's all," he said. "I want to pitch against them
again when this arm is rested."
Frank stepped forward.
"When do you play Rockland again, Moslof?" he asked.
"To-morrow," was the answer. "The schedule brings these two games
together."
"Who will pitch?"
"I don't know. Woods can't, Williamson is not in shape, I am afraid to
put Slatridge in, and Bascomb never was any good against Rockland,
although he is a good man against any other team."
"You wanted me to pitch to-day," said Frank.
"Yes."
"I might not have done any better than Woods. He is a dandy, and he can
monkey with Rockland when his arm is all right. I knew you ought to take
him out at the beginning of the third, and I told Diamond so. I could
see that his arm was keeping him working speed, and Rockland was eating
speed."
"That's right," nodded Woods. "It was the best I could do that inning.
No matter where I put them, they hit them out. I worked a change of
pace, but that did not seem to bother them. After that inning, however,
I kept them guessing."
"You pitched winning ball all through the game, with the exception of
that fatal inning, and it is probable those fellows would have hammered
anybody that inning. They had a batting streak, and they made the most
of it."
Then he suddenly turned to Moslof, asking:
"Do you want me to pitch for you to-morrow?"
Moslof gave a jump.
"Do I want you?" he exclaimed. "I should guess yes! Will you do it?"
"I will."
Moslof seized Merry's hand.
"Old man, you have won my everlasting gratitude. To-morrow we'll put a
team into the field that will paralyze Rockland. It will be such a team
as Rockland or the State of Maine never saw before! Will we do 'em? Oh,
say! We'll wipe 'em off the earth!"
"Oh, that's not certain," cautioned Frank. "You can't be sure of a
victory till it is won. Camden thought she had a sure thing to-day."
"It will be different to-morrow," said Moslof. "If you pitch a winning
game, the people of Camden will give you the whole town when we get back
here!"
"Well, I shall do my best to pitch winning ball," assured Merry.
Directly after supper, which all the boys except Hans took at the Bay
View, the Dutch lad being sent off aboard the _White Wings_, a buckboard
with four wide seats came round for a party, and Merry was surprised to
find that he was expected to be one of the party. Browning, Diamond and
Hodge were included. The others were members of the Camden ball team.
When the buckboard was loaded the driver cracked his whip over the four
handsome horses, and away they went through town, up over Harbor Hill
and along the street that led toward the foot of the mountains.
Soon they were close under the cliffs of Battie. There were some
splendid singers in the party, and they awoke the echoes with the old
college songs.
In the cool shadows of twilight they rolled along the famous turnpike,
with Battie behind them and the frowning heights of Megunticook rising
directly over their heads. On Maiden Cliff, standing out against the
sky, they saw the white cross that marks the spot where a beautiful girl
fell to her death on the cruel rocks below. At times the winding road
seemed to lead directly into the lake that they could see shimmering
through the trees. It was one of the most beautiful drives Merriwell had
ever taken.
They turned about finally and came back by the way of Lake City, a
charming collection of cottages assembled at one of the most picturesque
spots to be found around the island-dotted lake. The driver pointed out
the spot where the famous Lake City Inn had stood before the fire that
wiped out the beautiful summer hotel.
By this time night had fallen, but the full moon was high in the
heavens, shedding a pure white light over all and giving the scene a
glamour that it could not have by day. Indeed, it was so light that the
cross on Maiden Cliff could be seen even better than they had seen it in
the twilight.
"Now, fellows," said Moslof, "there is another place we had better visit
to-night."
"Where is that?" asked several.
"The Summit House, on Mount Battie."
"Hurrah for the Summit House!" shouted the boys.
"We'll have to do some walking."
"We can walk up all right."
"I don't know about that," grunted Bruce Browning. "I came out to
ride."
"It will do you good to walk."
But Bruce could not agree with Merriwell, and Moslof, laughing, said
that Browning should not leave the buckboard till he was safely on the
top of Battie. This relieved the big fellow's mind, and he grunted:
"All right. Go ahead."
Before they reached the foot of the mountain after leaving Lake City
they turned off into a road that led back into the woods. Soon they came
to the new road that had been constructed by the energy and
determination of the shrewd owner of the hotel on the heights. This road
proved to be even better than the boys had anticipated, but it was very
steep in places, so that every man except Browning walked. As for Bruce,
no amount of guying could induce him to get off and climb.
The moonlight sifted down through the trees, making white patches amid
the black shadows. There was not much air, and the walking lads were
perspiring freely before they were far from the foot of the ascent; but
they stuck to it, and, at last, they were relieved to come out of the
winding way and see the lights of the hotel before them.
With a cheer, they rushed forward toward the building.
Moslof led the way round the end, and then all stopped, uttering
exclamations of admiration.
Below them in the white moonlight lay the village, the harbor, the bay,
the great stretch of beautiful country. Hundreds of lights twinkled in
the town, the electric street lamps showing white and clear and marking
the limits of the village.
Away to the south was Rockport, her electric lamps paled by the clear
moonlight. Miles beyond Rockport was Rockland, her location also plainly
marked by lights. Between Rockport and Camden a lighted trolley car was
flying along.
Jack Diamond drew a deep breath, and his hand fell on Frank's arm.
"Merriwell," he said, "I want to thank you for bringing me down into
this country. It surely is a wonderful land at this season of the year,
no matter what it may be in winter. This is the most beautiful view my
eyes ever rested upon."
"Everybody says that," put in Moslof. "No matter where they have been,
they say that."
"I have traveled a little over the world," said Merriwell, "and I must
say this is the most entrancing view I have ever looked upon."
"I'm glad I took the trouble to come up," sighed Browning.
As they were standing there, gazing enraptured upon the scene, there was
a burst of girlish laughter from the hotel. Then at least a dozen girls
came out upon the veranda.
"What have we struck?" exclaimed Frank.
"It must be a party," said Moslof. "Let's go in."
Go in they did, the proprietor of the hotel meeting and welcoming them.
It proved that Moslof was right, there was a party of girls up from the
village, and Frank's sharp eyes found Phebe Macey was among them.
Not a few of the girls were known to the boys. Those who were not known
were introduced.
"What a place for a dance!" thought Frank, as he looked the dining room
over. "These tables could be cleared away, and then we----"
He caught sight of the proprietor, and, in another moment, he drew the
man aside.
"If you want to dance, I'm willing," was the consent of the genial owner
of the Summit House. "But where's your music? There's a fiddle here, but
who can play it?"
"I'll find somebody!" cried Frank, and he rushed for Diamond.
But, before the dance could be started, it was found that the consent of
the young lady chaperon who had accompanied the girls must be obtained.
Frank approached her. At first she was not favorable, but Merriwell used
diplomacy and finally won her over so that she consented to let the
girls remain and dance an hour.
Then there was a hustling to clear the dining room floor. The old violin
was brought out and Diamond proceeded to tune up.
Frank sought Phebe and asked her to waltz with him.
"I don't think I will dance," she said, pretending to pout a bit.
"Why not?" asked Merry, in surprise. "You do dance, do you not?"
"Oh, sometimes."
"And you will refuse me?"
"You deserve to be refused."
"Why, pray?" asked Frank, surprised.
"I asked a favor of you to-day."
A light broke in on Frank.
"Oh, is that it? You wanted me to pitch for Camden?"
"Yes."
"And I didn't. Well, can't you pardon me this time?"
"Really, I do not think you deserve it."
"Perhaps not, but, if I promise to do better, will you----"
"It's too late now."
"How is that?"
"Camden lost."
"And might have lost just the same if I had pitched."
"No," she said, with confidence, "I know all about your pitching. You
would have won the game."
"There is another game to-morrow."
"Oh, that's in Rockland, and the Rocklands always win on their own
ground."
"Is that their reputation? Well, perhaps we may be able to break the
spell and defeat them on their own ground once."
"'We!' What do you mean by that? It can't be that you will pitch for
Camden to-morrow?"
"Will you waltz with me if I'll agree to do so?"
"Yes," was her instant answer.
"Done!" said Frank. "I'll pitch."
Then Diamond struck into a beautiful waltz, and Frank and Phebe were the
first on the floor, his arm about her waist, her hand gently clasped in
his.
CHAPTER XIV.
MERRIWELL'S DOUBLE SHOOT.
"Here come the Lobsters!"
The cry was uttered by a small boy as the Camden ball team entered the
Rockland ball ground.
A great crowd had assembled in the "cigar box," as the ground was
sometimes called because of its narrow limits. All Rockland had heard
that Camden would have a new battery, and nearly all Rockland had heard
of Merriwell and Hodge, for Frank had insisted that Bart should support
him behind the plate. The fact that Rockland had won from Camden with
Woods in the box made the rooters feel that their team was
invincible--that it could not be defeated by Camden. They had turned out
in a way to make the heart of the Rockland manager rejoice as the
quarters came jingling into the cash box.
The car had been delayed and the Camden team was late. It was followed
by such a swarm of Camden people as had never been seen on the Rockland
ball ground. This band of rooters was marshaled by a Camden man, who had
instructed them to hang together and who was to lead them in the
cheering. They packed in upon the bleachers near first base, as they had
bought a large reserved space there and it was held for them.
Rockland had finished practicing, and so the Camdens took the field.
Everybody was asking where Frank Merriwell was, but no one seemed able
to discover him.
"It was a false report," somebody said, and then the spectators,
thinking they had been deceived, began to growl.
But Merriwell and Hodge had slipped into the ground in ordinary clothes
and were getting into suits in the dressing room beneath the grand
stand. As soon as they were dressed, they came out, and Frank began to
warm up by throwing to Bart.
"Here they are!"
A boy uttered the cry, and then every eye seemed turned on the famous
Yale battery.
Among those who had been watching for Merriwell's appearance was Wat
Snell. The fellow ground his teeth with rage as he saw Frank come out in
a baseball suit.
"He shall not win this game!" vowed Wat. "I have the stuff in my pocket
that will fix him if I can get it into him."
Then Snell hastily sought some chaps who were grouped in a little bunch,
talking in low tones among themselves.
"Mr. Bixton," said Wat, "I want to speak with you a moment."
He drew one of the young men aside and whispered in his ear. Bixton
scowled and nodded, answering:
"I've got fifty dollars on this game."
Then Snell whispered some more, but Bixton shook his head and said
aloud:
"They'd kill the feller they caught doin' it. French is a reg'lar fool!
He wants to beat Camden, but he wouldn't win in a crooked way for a
thousand dollars. He'd be the first to jump on a chap that was caught
doin' up a Camden man."
"He needn't know it," said Snell, and then he whispered some more, but
he couldn't seem to win Bixton over.
"All right," said Snell. "You'll be sorry when you lose your fifty
plunks."
"I ain't lost 'em yet."
"You will if Frank Merriwell pitches the whole game."
Practice was over, the umpire took his place and called "play," the
Camden team was in the field. Merriwell walked down into the box. He
wore his Yale uniform, as he had been unable to obtain a Camden uniform
that would fit him.
The Rockland crowd looked at Merriwell with curiosity, but all the
applause he received came from the Camden rooters. At one side of the
diamond were gathered twenty small boys. Usually these youngsters were
full of taunts and jeers for Camden, but now they were strangely silent.
One of them turned to the others and said:
"Fellers, Rockland eats dirt ter-day! We kin lick anything else on ther
face of ther earth, but we can't do up that battery. I've read all about
Frank Merriwell, an' there ain't nothin' walks on two legs what kin
pitch ball with him!"
Strange to relate, he was not disputed in the assertion.
The umpire broke open a box and tossed a beautiful new "Spaulding" to
Merry, who caught it and rubbed a handful of dirt over it.
Smithers advanced to the plate. Frank had heard that it was impossible
to discover the little man's weak point, and he resolved to start right
in by fooling him--if possible.
Hodge knew what was coming when Merry assumed a certain attitude. Then,
without any flourish, Frank shot in what seemed at the start to be a
straight, swift ball.
Smithers took it for an inshoot, and, in his judgment, it must be a fair
ball. He swung for it, and then he dropped his bat and gasped.
The ball had reversed from an in to an out, causing Smithers to miss it
by at least six inches!
It was Merriwell's wonderful double shoot!
Those in the grand stand who had seen the double curve of the ball
uttered exclamations of amazement, and some of them would not believe
their eyes had not deceived them.
Smithers picked up his bat, muttering:
"If I'd been drinking lately I wouldn't wonder at it!"
Hodge returned the ball, and in a moment Merry was ready to deliver
again. Smithers fancied he had been deceived by his eyes, and so, when
Frank pitched another ball that was exactly like the first, he smashed
at it again.
And missed again!
There was a commotion in the grand stand. A loud voice was heard
declaring the ball had curved in and out, and that Merriwell was a
wizard. Another person was speaking soothingly to the excited
individual.
Not a sound from the Camden rooters, for their leader was holding them
in check. He had not given the signal for applause.
On all the ground there was no man half as amazed as Smithers. He
fancied he had batted all kinds of pitching, but here was something new
to him.
There was a hush as Frank again assumed position for delivery. Smithers
assumed a look of determination and made ready. Then the Yale pitcher
shot in another ball, this time changing his curves so the sphere
started with an out and suddenly changed to an in.
Seeing it was an out at the start, Smithers instantly decided that it
must go beyond his reach. When it changed to an in, and passed over the
plate, it was too late to get his bat round, and so he stood with the
"wagon tongue" poised, not even having offered at it.
"Three strikes--out!" called the umpire.
Then the Camden crowd could be held no longer. Never before had Smithers
been struck out like that. But three balls had been pitched, and yet,
the crack batter of the Rocklands, a man without a weak point, was
retired. The men and boys from under Megunticook rose up and yelled
like a thousand fiends. They felt that a man who could strike Smithers
out like that would have a snap with the rest of the team, and the joy
in their hearts knew no bounds.
For once the Rockland rooters were silent. They did not even have
sufficient nerve left to guy the Camdenites. They stared and stared at
the man who had struck out Smithers with three pitched balls, and their
dismay and disgust knew no bounds.
"What's the matter that Rockland didn't get that feller?" growled one.
"It was a fool trick to let Camden get him!"
Smithers walked to the bench and sat down in a dazed way, muttering:
"Well, I'll be blowed!"
Edwards picked up a bat and advanced to the plate with his usual
swagger.
"Just try that on me," he invited.
Instantly Frank decided to do so. Bart was ready, and Merry snapped in a
swift one, giving it the double curve. Edwards let it pass.
"One strike!" cried the umpire.
A roar from the Camden crowd.
Bart sent back the ball. Edwards grinned and then scowled. He made
ready. Frank reversed the curves and drove in a whistler that could
scarcely be seen as it passed through the air.
This time Edwards struck, but he found only empty air.
"Two strikes!" from the umpire.
Another roar from the Camden crowd.
Edwards began to look doubtful.
"What are we up against?" he muttered to himself.
Merriwell took his time to pitch the third ball. All at once he seemed
to send in one like the last. Edwards believed the double curve would
cause it to cross over the plate, and he struck at it.
It proved to be a straight ball, and Edwards never touched it!
"Striker is out!" decided the umpire.
It is impossible to describe the tumult that followed. For once, at
least, Camden was well represented on the Rockland ground, and the
rooters for the boys in crimson could not make noise enough. Their hour
of triumph had arrived, and they were making the most of it.
Edwards looked sour enough as he went to the bench.
"What's the matter?" asked Gulsiver, who was swinging two bats so that
one would seem lighter to him when he came to strike.
"That Yale chap is the devil!" growled Edwards.
Gulsiver was a college man and a fine fellow. He had played with Camden
the previous season, and Camden was sorry it did not have him that year.
He looked anxious but determined to do his best as he went to the plate.
Frank had decided that he was using the double shoot altogether too
much, for it would soon put a kink in his elbow if he kept it up. He had
used it on Edwards because the Rockland shortstop had challenged him to
do so. Gulsiver was tried with a coaxer, but he let it pass. Then Frank
gave him a rise, and he hit it.
The ball popped up into the air and fell into Merriwell's hands,
retiring Rockland on eight pitched balls, without a single batter
getting started toward first base.
The Camden crowd was happy, and the Rocklandites were disgusted. But
Rockland had a pitcher who more than once proved a hoodoo for Camden.
The redoubtable "Grandpa" Morse was to go into the box this day. There
had been a time when Morse could scare the Camden players with his speed
and fool them with his "southpaw" delivery. Rockland hoped that time
had not passed, even though the rooters of the Limerock City were aware
that Morse was not dealing with tenderfeet this day.
Moslof had placed Hodge at the head of the batting list at Merriwell's
suggestion. Bart picked up a heavy stick and advanced to the plate, as
Morse entered the box. The Rockland men were in their places on the
field.
Morse was working his jaw over a chew of gum. He had a glove on his
right hand, and with this he covered the ball so it could not be seen.
At the very start Merriwell made a kick about this, and Morse was forced
to show the ball in his hand. He grinned at Frank with an expression
that seemed to say he would get even, and then, putting on all the steam
at his command, he sent a high ball over the plate, thinking to daze
Hodge with his speed.
Hodge swung at it, hit it fairly without much effort, and put it over
the center field fence, trotting around the bases to the music of the
cheers of the Camden crowd.
Then Morse was riled. Williamson came next, and "Grandpa" struck him
out, giving the Rocklandites a chance to yell a little. Cogern followed,
and made a hard try for the center field fence, but Gulsiver got back
against the fence, reached up into the air and pulled the ball down, to
the increased delight of the Rockland spectators. McDornick was too
anxious, and he hit an easy roller to Edwards, who threw him out at
first.
But the first inning had ended one to nothing in Camden's favor.
Then Merriwell went into the box again, but he did not attempt to work
his double shoot till Rockland had filled the bases with a hit, a wild
throw by Mower and a dropped fly by McDornick, followed by a poor throw
to third.
Now Rockland thought her time had come. The coachers were doing their
best to rattle Merriwell, aided by the yelling crowd, but Frank never
was cooler in his life. He struck out the next man, and the next popped
up a little fly to Makune. Then Merry took a hot liner from the next
batter, and Rockland did not score.
Then Bixton hunted up Snell.
"I'll give you ten dollars to get that drug into Merriwell," he said.
"Furnish me with a boy to pass Merriwell the water and I'll do it," said
Snell. "Merriwell would suspect me."
Bixton found the boy, and the plot to knock Frank out was laid. Snell
called the boy aside and gave him full instructions.
"Here is a little vial," he explained. "All you have to do is stick by
the water bucket at the end of the Camden bench. Keep this vial in your
hand uncorked and ready. You can keep it out of sight. When Merriwell
wants a drink, it will be easy for you to drop some of the stuff in the
vial into the bucket. As soon as he drinks, upset the bucket, so nobody
else will get any of the stuff. Here's ten dollars for you."
The boy took the vial and the ten dollars. Then, when Snell was not
watching him, he looked around for French, the Rockland manager, found
him and told him the whole plot.
French was furious.
"I wouldn't have that happen on this ground for a hundred dollars!" he
declared. "Point out the fellow who hired you to do this, and I will
have him arrested! We are winning no games in that way!"
The boy pointed Snell out, and, five minutes later, Wat turned pale as
an officer tapped him on the shoulder and said:
"Come with me. Don't make any fuss, or the crowd will find out that you
hired a boy to drug Frank Merriwell. You'll be lynched if they do find
it out."
Snell could not say a word. With the officer's hand on his shoulder, he
was marched off the ground, while the crowd wondered why he had been
arrested. Bixton, the crooked sport, saw this, and it did not take him
long to disappear.
So the plot to knock Merriwell out was frustrated, and Frank pitched the
game through, giving Rockland just four hits. At the end of the eighth
inning the score stood two to one in favor of Camden. With the beginning
of the ninth a combination of bad plays placed a Rockland man on third,
with one man out. Then the next batter drove out a long fly to Cogern,
and the man on third attempted to score on it. Cogern made the throw of
his life, nailing the runner at the plate and spoiling Rockland's last
chance.
The game was over, and Camden had won by a score of two to one. It had
been a beautiful game, and once more Camden and Rockland were tied for
first place in the Knox County League.
The Camden rooters were happy, while the Rockland spectators melted away
and disappeared from view with amazing suddenness when the last man was
out.
It was plain enough that the Rockland people expected the visitors to
celebrate as Rockland had done in Camden, but nothing of the kind was
permitted. Still it was a joyful crowd that loaded the two trolley cars
and went through the main street of the city singing:
"Boom-ta-de-aye, boom-ta-de-aye,
De-boom-ta, de-boom-ta, de-boora-ta-de-aye;
We won to-day, we won to-day,
Oh, we won, oh, we won, oh, we won to-day."
As they passed the _Star_ office the bulletin was out:
"Baseball To-day:
"Camden, 2; Rockland, 1."
The crowd on the cars cheered as they passed the bulletin, and they sang
all the way to Camden.
But when those cars entered Camden what a reception awaited the victors!
It seemed that half the town had turned out to meet them. Everybody had
a horn. As the first car, carrying the ball players, approached the
opera house there was a deafening blare of sound, and the explosion of
cannon crackers, and cheer after cheer rent the air. The moment the car
stopped Frank Merriwell was torn from his seat by admirers, was lifted
to the shoulders of sturdy fellows and carried to the hotel without
being allowed to touch his feet to the ground, while the throng surged
around him and shouted.
An hour later, as he sat in the office of the hotel, surrounded by
friends and admirers, he said:
"Fellows, I'd like to spend the rest of the summer right here in this
town. It's all right! I'm glad I've found Camden, and you may be sure
it's not the last time I shall stop here."
Then the mayor of the town, who happened to be present, said:
"Mr. Merriwell, Camden belongs to you. If there is anything here that
you want, take it. If you don't see what you want, ask for it. I don't
know that we can do any better by you than that."
That evening Landlord Drayben gave the baseball boys a dinner at the
hotel, and there were speeches and toasts and cheers for Merriwell.
After the dinner the dining room was cleared, an orchestra appeared, and
there was dancing. Again Frank was the first on the floor, with Phebe
Macey as his partner. And Phebe was the happiest girl in Camden that
night.
CHAPTER XV.
OFF FOR BAR HARBOR.
It was nearly midnight when a boat containing four lads pushed out from
Fish Market Wharf and pulled down Camden harbor toward the fleet of
yachts that lay anchored in Dillingham's Cove.
The moon had dropped down into the west, but it still shed its pure
white light on the unrippled water of the harbor, and, despite the
lateness of the hour, several boating parties were out. From away toward
the Spindles came the sound of a song, in which four musical voices
blended harmoniously. Nothing stirs the entire soul with a sense of the
beautiful like the sound of a distant song floating over the silvered
bosom of a peaceful bay or lake on a moonlight night in midsummer. Hodge
and Diamond, who were rowing the boat, rested on their oars, and the
four lads listened a long time.
"Beautiful!" murmured Merriwell, who was sitting in the stern of the
boat, the rudder lines in his hands.
Browning grunted.
"The yelling of the Camden crowd on the Rockland ball ground to-day
sounded better to me," he said.
Quoth Merriwell:
"'The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, strategems and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.'"
"Huah!" said Bruce. "Talk about a 'concord of sweet sounds,' what could
be sweeter than the howls of those baseball rooters when you worked
your double shoot on the Rockland batters and kept them fanning the
breeze? That was what I call music!"
"Fellows," sighed Frank, "this has been a lively day."
"It certainly has," nodded Hodge.
"Things move in a hurry down here at this season of the year," put in
Diamond.
"It's rather too lively for me," confessed Merriwell. "I am stuck on
Camden, but I must get out of it right away."
"Why?" asked the others, in a breath.
"The people here will not give me any rest. If I remain, it will be
impossible for me to refuse to play ball with the Camden team, and I did
not come down here for that. Why, I could have a hundred dollars a week
if I would play with Camden. Money doesn't seem to be of value to the
people here, now that they think I can beat Rockland every time I go
into the box. They are ready to give up anything to beat Rockland. I
haven't any grudge against Rockland. In fact, if what I hear about Wat
Snell's attempt to drug me is true, I have every reason to be grateful
toward Manager French, for he caused Snell's arrest, and it is likely
that Wat is languishing in the Rockland lockup to-night."
"That fellow will land in prison all right," said Diamond. "He is the
most vindictive creature I ever saw."
"If French pushes him, he may be shut up for a while down this way,"
observed Hodge.
"I was going to spend a week up there on the mountain," said Jack,
looking toward the top of Battie, where the lights of the Summit House
were still gleaming, despite the hour. "If we get out of here in a rush,
I'll not get up there again."
"We were there last night," said Frank. "That was a jolly time, and no
one expected it. After dancing on the mountain last night, pitching a
game of ball to-day and then dancing at the Bay View to-night, I am
ready to rest to-morrow."
Browning grunted again.
"I believe you are getting frightened," he yawned.
"Of what?"
"The girl with the roguish eyes."
"Phebe?"
"Sure."
"Why should I be frightened of her?"
"She has hypnotized you with those eyes. Notice how often he danced with
her, fellows? Inza Burrage is down this way, and----"
"She is in Bar Harbor now."
"Well, that's not far. You are counting on getting away from Phebe
before she weaves her spell about you so you can't break away."
"It's wonderful how you read a fellow," laughed Merriwell. "You should
go into the mind-reading business. Anyhow, we'll get up anchor early, if
there is a breeze, and leave Camden behind us."
"For good?" asked Diamond, anxiously.
"Oh, perhaps not for good. We may drop in here on our way back. Can't
tell just what we will feel like doing."
A boat was gliding past them. It came near enough for its occupants to
recognize the lads in the other boat. Somebody said:
"It's Merriwell and his party."
Then a feminine voice called:
"Hello, Frank Merriwell. You are a dandy!"
"Thank you," said Frank, laughing. "There are others."
"Not in your class," was the quick retort. "You are the only one of the
kind."
"Who was that?" asked Diamond, as the boat passed on.
"Couldn't tell you, my boy," answered Frank.
"Why, that's strange! She spoke to you as if she knew you. Familiar for
a stranger!"
"Evidently she is intoxicated--by the moonlight," grunted Browning.
"If we stay down this way long, I fancy we'll find there is considerable
freedom at these summer resorts," said Merry. "People do not always wait
for introductions down here. But the girl in that boat would not have
spoken had it been in the daytime. She knew I could not recognize her,
and that is how she ventured to do it."
"Well, let's get on board," urged Bruce. "I'm tired, and I want to turn
in."
"Pull away," directed Frank, and the boys began rowing again.
They passed other rowboats, and the sound of voices and laughter came
over the moon-burnished bosom of the harbor. On board one of the yachts
not far from the _White Wings_ a jolly party had gathered. Somebody was
picking away at a guitar and softly humming the latest song. Others were
chatting and laughing. The yacht was decorated with Chinese lanterns and
was burning bright lights.
"Those lights would look better if there wasn't any moon," observed
Diamond.
As they approached the _White Wings_ a figure suddenly arose on the deck
and leveled something at the boat, while a voice called:
"Stood still vere I vos und gafe der coundersign! Uf I don'd done dot
you vill oben vire onto me!"
"Here, here, Hans!" exclaimed Merry. "What are you trying to do--shoot
us? Be careful with that gun!"
"Vos dot you, Vrankie?" asked the faithful Dutch boy, lowering the gun.
"Vale, I don'd vant to make no mistook, und so I peen careful not to
led any vellers come apoard uf me vot I don'd vant to seen. I vos glad
you haf camed."
They ran up to the sloop and were soon on board. It was necessary to
tell Hans what had happened that day, but he simply said:
"Oh, I knew how dot vould peen all der dime. Uf course Vrankie blayed
marples mit Rocklandt."
That night they slept well in their berths, for a cool breeze sprang up
about midnight, so the cabin of the yacht was not too warm, and there
was the gentlest of rocking motions to lull their senses.
Frank was astir at daybreak, and it did not take him long to turn the
others out when he discovered there was a land breeze.
"It's just what we want," he said. "We must get away in a hurry,
fellows. We can take our breakfast after we get outside the harbor."
So the anchor was raised, the sails run up in a hurry, and the _White
Wings_, with Frank at the wheel, headed for the Spindles. At sunrise she
was outside the harbor's mouth, with her course set due east. Outside
the harbor there was a strong, steady breeze, and it was not long before
the twin mountains of Camden began to sink into the purple morning
mists.
CHAPTER XVI.
DIAMOND'S PLANS.
The season at Bar Harbor was at its height, and the most famous resort
on the coast of Maine was overflowing with rich, fashionable and famous
people. Congressmen and their families were there, millionaires from
various parts of the country were there, titled persons from abroad were
there. Frenchman's Bay was almost crowded with yachts, and excursions
were pouring into the town by the railroad and by steamboats. There were
drives by day, excursions to various points about the bay, and by night
there were hops at the hotels, strolls in the moonlight, and gay times
on board the yachts that clustered in the harbor.
Two days at Bar Harbor made Frank and his friends long to get away.
"This isn't much like Camden, don't you know," yawned Browning, as he
rolled into his berth on the afternoon of the second day. "We made a
mistake in running away from that town in a hurry."
"You know why we did it," said Frank, quickly. "We were too well known
there. Now, over here we have been discreet and kept our identity
secret. That was not such a task, either, for I do not fancy one out of
a thousand of these people ever heard anything about any of us, or would
take the trouble to turn round to look after us if they had heard of us
and knew who we were. By Jove! I find it rather agreeable, fellows!"
"Oh, that's all right," nodded Diamond. "I don't fancy notoriety any
more than you do, Merry; but there is something about the atmosphere
here that I don't quite relish, although I can't tell what it is."
Frank laughed.
"I fancy I know what it is, old man."
"Then let me into the mystery."
"It is the air of commercial aristocracy these people wear. Now, by
birth and breeding, Diamond, you are a true aristocrat, but with you
blood is everything, and it rather galls you to witness the boorish air
of superiority assumed by some of these millionaire pork packers with
neither education nor refinement. I don't wonder. When you came to Yale
you had some silly notions about aristocracy, but you have gotten over
them to a certain extent, so that now you recognize a gentleman as a
gentleman, even though his father was a day laborer; but you realize
that no man is a gentleman simply because he is worth several million
dollars and has a daughter he is trying to marry off to a foreigner with
a title and a blasted reputation. We are getting nearer together in our
ideas every day, Diamond, whether you realize it or not. These
money-made aristocrats with their boorish manners and their inability to
speak or spell the English language correctly are quite as repugnant to
me as they are to you. There are plenty of such society people here, and
they are making you tired, old man. I don't wonder. I am becoming a
trifle fatigued myself."
"Yaw," grunted Hans, who had been listening with an owlish look of
wisdom on his full-moon face, "vot makes me dired vos dose beoble vot
don'd knew how to speak der English language mitoudt a misdake makin'
their spelling in."
"I can't say that I relish Bar Harbor so very much," said Hodge,
speaking for the first time. "I think I have seen enough of it."
"Let's move," grunted Browning.
"Oh, you will trouble yourself a lot about moving!" laughed Frank.
"I'll move when the yacht does."
"And help get up the anchor?"
"Oh, say, I'll pay Hans to do my share of pulling on the anchor line! My
heart is weak, and I am liable to strain it by overexertion."
"You are not at all liable to, for you will not overexert yourself."
"If we leave Bar Harbor, where shall we go, fellows?" asked Diamond.
"Oh, there are plenty of places," assured Frank.
"Mention some of them."
"As you know, Penobscot Bay is full of islands, and on some of those
islands are villages. Now, it is my belief that some of those villages
would be interesting places to visit."
"A good suggestion."
"We might run down to Green's Landing or Isle au Haut."
"Say!" exclaimed Diamond.
"Say it."
"I have an idea."
"Vos dot as pad as der rheumadisms?" asked Hans, innocently. "Vere did
id hurt me most?"
"Let's invite the girls," said Jack.
"Inza and Paula?"
"Yes."
"Huah!" grunted Browning, from his berth. "Anybody might have known it!
Think of John Diamond, of Virginia, getting soft on a Boston girl! Ha!
ha! ha!"
The big fellow's words and laughter irritated Diamond, and he snapped:
"I don't see what there is so very funny about that!"
Then Browning laughed all the more, saying:
"You see, he doesn't deny it, fellows. I suspected it when they met in
Rockland. It was a case of love at first sight."
"Paula Benjamin is a splendid girl," said Frank, "and you are stuck on
her yourself, Browning. Jealousy is what ails you."
The big fellow flopped over in his berth with remarkable suddenness, his
face becoming wonderfully red.
"Now, look here, Merriwell," he exclaimed, "that won't go down with this
crowd. You all know I don't care a rap about girls, and----"
"Vot made you got so red aroundt der gills, Pruce?" chuckled Hans. "Dot
peen a deadt gife avay."
Jack was glad the tables were turned, and he joined in the general
laugh.
"Oh, go to thunder, the whole of you!" roared Browning, as he again
flopped over in his berth.
"What would we do with the girls?" asked Hodge. "We have not sufficient
room on the boat to accommodate them here, and----"
"There must be some sort of a hotel at Green's Landing," said Diamond,
quickly. "Of course, Miss Gale, Inza's aunt, would go along as
chaperon."
"Well, it would be a change from Bar Harbor," said Frank. "This place is
too much like all other fashionable seaside resorts to suit me, and
still I do not feel like running away and leaving the girls. They would
think it a mean trick if we were to do so so soon."
"Perhaps they won't go," said Hodge, who did not seem much in favor of
the project.
"Well, we can ask them," spoke up Diamond, quickly.
"I am to see Inza this evening, and I'll find out about it," said Frank.
"If they can go, we want to get away bright and early to-morrow,
providing there is a breeze."
CHAPTER XVII.
THE MAN WHO SAW THE MONSTER.
The girls gladly welcomed the plan, for they felt there would be much
pleasure in a cruise among the islands of the bay. At first, however,
Miss Gale was opposed to it, but Frank won her over, as Inza felt
certain he could.
So the next morning the girls appeared on the pier at an early hour,
accompanied by the stern-faced but kind-hearted old maid, having been
brought down from the hotel by a carriage.
The boys were on the watch for them, and a boat, containing Frank and
Jack, pushed off from the _White Wings_ immediately.
The girls, the chaperon, the baggage--all were taken into the boat and
soon set aboard the yacht.
Half an hour later, with all sails set, the _White Wings_ was running
out to round the end of the breakwater.
With favorable wind and conditions, it is just a delightful half-day's
cruise from Bar Harbor to Green's Landing. Off Southwest Harbor the wind
proved something of a gale, as nothing in the shape of land lay between
them and the open ocean, from which the wind swept in powerfully.
Although the yacht buried her starboard rail at times and fairly hissed
through the water, Frank did not take a reef in a single sail, for there
were no squalls, and, "corinthian" though he was, he was gaining
confidence in his ability to handle the _White Wings_.
Paula was rather timid, but Inza enjoyed every moment of the sail. With
a position near Frank, who was at the wheel, she chatted and laughed,
not in the least affected by the motion or the heeling of the sloop.
Remarkable to state, Browning did not remain below and sleep in his
bunk, as was his custom. He came on deck, looking remarkably wide awake,
and he made himself agreeable to the girls and Miss Gale.
There was not swell enough to make anyone seasick, which added to the
pleasures of the cruise.
Diamond was doing his best to make himself agreeable to Paula, and she
seemed to find his company acceptable, but after a time she called Bruce
to her, so that she was between them.
"Don't you think Mr. Merriwell very reckless, Mr. Browning?" she asked.
"Mr. Diamond insists there is no danger, b
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