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CHAPTER VIII. – BUNOL MAKES HIS DEMAND
Miguel Bunol stood in front of his weak, helpless captive in a room of the crumbling castle of Lochleven. The bare room was lighted by a torch thrust into a great crack in the wall. There was no furniture in the place. Dunbar Budthorne sat on the floor, with his back against the wall.
Bunol’s arms were folded. His head was bowed a little, and he was steadily regarding Budthorne from beneath his black eyebrows.
“Well,” said the captive, weakly, “have you come to finish me?”
The Spaniard made a gesture of remonstrance with his gloved hand.
“How can you ask such a foolish question, my dear friend?” he said.
“Don’t call me your friend!” exclaimed Budthorne, with a slight show of resentment and spirit. “I am no friend to such a wretch as you!”
“Then let me assure you that I am your friend. I am deeply interested in you, else I should not have taken all this trouble to-night.”
Something like a mirthless, mocking laugh came from the lips of the prisoner.
“A fine, friendly act!” said Budthorne. “It is the act of a solicitous friend to fall on one, sandbag him and carry him off by force to a place like this, I suppose! Where are the rest of your ruffians?”
“They are near enough to come at my call should I need them,” said Bunol. “Never mind them. I wished to have a little private chat with you, and they kindly retired to give me that privilege.”
“What is your game, Bunol? Out with it!”
“Don’t be in such haste. There is plenty of time. We have the whole night before us. Indeed, should you remain obstinate, we may have many nights before us. You are quite safe, my dear Budthorne, here in this old castle. At this season of the year there is no danger that troublesome visitors will come to inspect the stronghold that was once, long ago, the prison of Queen Mary and is now yours.”
“If they should come – ”
“If they should come – see that door? It can be closed and barred. Beyond it is another door that can be made secure. If troublesome persons came, they would never find you. In here you might shout until your throat you split without ever making them hear one faint cry. Have you ever heard of Rob MacLane? Well, some years there have been that he has lived with a price on his head, and always he had found this a safe hiding place when in this vicinity. There is not one chance in ten thousand that your friends at Ben Cleuch will come here to look for you; but should they come they will find no trace of you.”
“You devil!” cried Budthorne.
“Just how it was I wished you to know before we began talking. Now, listen, my dear Budthorne. You are a very reckless and extravagant young man, wholly unfitted to handle large sums of money. This I have learned since my acquaintance with you. I have discovered that soon you will spend your own share of the fortune which you inherited, and then I am sure you will make inroads into that of your sister, who cares so very much for you that she is unable to refuse you anything. What you greatly need is some one to look after you and your sister and to prevent you from beggaring yourself and her. Who in all the world is better fitted for this than your very dear friend, Miguel Bunol?”
“What folly!” exclaimed the captive. “What are you driving at?”
“First I wish to prove that I am sincere in my protestations of friendship,” the Spaniard calmly continued. “When first I knew you, a certain man, who is now not far away, had chosen you as a victim to be despoiled of your money. He thought I might be of assistance to him in the pleasant occupation, and so he took me into partnership.”
“You mean that miserable wretch, Durbin!”
“I have called no names. At the outset I joined him, with no other thought than to obtain a portion of the spoils. But in time I came to admire you and care for you very much. It became a repulsive task for me to assist him in his bungling plans, but the money I needed, and you had so much that I felt you well might spare a little. Thus it went on. Then you did me the honor to present me to your lovely sister.”
“I was a fool.”
“No, for I learned to care a great deal for Nadia, and in time I decided that for her sake you must be saved. In order to save you I decided to marry her.”
In spite of his weakness, Budthorne struggled to his feet as if to attack Bunol, but he was forced to lean against the wall for support.
“Don’t excite yourself too much,” urged the Spaniard, with mock solicitude. “You are not strong.”
“No, no!” groaned Budthorne. “My legs will scarcely bear my weight. I believe you somehow contrived to drug me, you wretch!”
Bunol smiled, thinking of the drug he had given Aaron.
“You do me great injustice,” he protested. “Let me continue. I resolved to marry your sister, for I felt she stood in great need of a faithful guardian who would care for her tenderly and prevent you from squandering her share of the fortune. Little by little I gained influence and control over you, and I should have succeeded in full but for the interference of that fellow Merriwell. He upset all my plans. Had those plans worked as they should, the moment I became sure of Nadia I should have cast aside both Durbin and Marsh. Rid of them, I could cause you to cease your recklessness and prevent you from squandering what remained of your fortune. You see, Budthorne, my intentions toward you were of the most friendly sort.”
“Bah!” cried the captive.
“After the exposure in London,” Bunol went on, “I succeeded in following you here, leaving Marsh and Durbin behind. With the aid of a faithful fellow, good fortune led me to meet, I planned to get hold of you, just as I have, in order to talk reason to you. I could have done very well without Marsh and Durbin, but it chanced that they followed Merriwell and his companions to Ben Cleuch, and they were passing on the highway when I hailed them. I thought it best to use them once more this night, and then to get rid of them forever. They think I am now trying to squeeze from you more money that is to be divided equally between us. Thus they deceive themselves. If you have in your head the reason you should, it is little they will get.”
“What are you trying to propose?” demanded Budthorne.
“That you swear to me by all you hold sacred, by the memory of your mother and the fear of God, that you will not prevent me from making your sister my wife, either by word, deed or suggestion. That is all I ask.”
“And if I do that – what then?”
“I will outwit the others. I will lead you from this place when they know nothing of it. We will take the boat and row away. When we arrive at the inn, I will tell how I found and rescued you from Rob MacLane, Hector Marsh, and Luke Durbin. You will say it is true, every word to the last. After that my own cards I will play, and your sister will I win, for I have the power to make her mine.”
Always self-confident to an amazing degree, knowing his influence over Budthorne, and believing he could force the man to do his will, Bunol believed that in this manner he might make himself a hero in the eyes of Nadia, might ensnare her in his hypnotic net, and might obtain her for his own at last.
But all the while he was playing double with Budthorne, for he had outlined his plan to Durbin and Marsh, promising to wring money from both brother and sister if he succeeded, and to divide liberally with his accomplices. Rob MacLane was to be paid a set sum for his services.
“What if I refuse?” asked Budthorne.
“Then I shall leave you here alone in the dark to meditate upon it a time.”
“You fool!” panted the captive. “You were crazy to fancy you could force me into such a thing! Not in a thousand years!”
Bunol shrugged his shoulders.
“It is you who are foolish,” he asserted. “Look into my eyes a moment, Budthorne, and – ”
“No! no!” hoarsely cried the young man, as he suddenly started forward, his hands clinched, resolved to attack his enemy. “I’ll fight you here, man to man.”
The Spaniard struck those clinched hands aside and gave Budthorne a thrust that sent him again to the wall, against which he struck and then dropped to the floor.
“Very well,” said Miguel. “Having thought it over, you will change your mind, I believe. I will leave you to consider it all.”
Snatching the torch from the crack, he strode from the room, closing and barring the heavy door behind him.
CHAPTER IX. – THE FIGHT IN THE CASTLE
The night was on the wane when Miguel Bunol returned and found the shivering, half-frozen captive stretched on the bare floor.
Budthorne lifted his head from his curled arms and looked at his enemy with eyes filled with fear and hatred.
“Leave me to die!” he hoarsely said. “You can never force me to sacrifice my sister!”
“Still obstinate!” sneered Bunol. “I had hoped to see a change in you. Unless you decide at once to comply, you will have to remain here through another day, for morning approaches, and we can leave this island only by night.”
“I’ll never give in! I’ll never surrender to your evil influence! You – ”
The speaker stopped suddenly, starting up and listening, for from some distant portion of the old ruin came a sudden cry of alarm. This cry was followed by others and then a shot was heard!
For a moment, as Budthorne struggled to his feet, Miguel Bunol stood amazed and thunderstruck. Then he snarled out an oath and wheeled toward the door.
With a sudden burst of strength, Budthorne dashed at the fellow and leaped on his back, clutching him round the neck with both arms.
At the same time he lifted his voice and shouted for help.
Budthorne believed rescuers had arrived.
He was right. With muffled oars, a boat containing four persons had noiselessly approached the island, slipping into the dark shadows of its wooded shore.
The four in the boat were Dick Merriwell, Brad Buckhart, Zenas Gunn, and Aaron, the latter having provided the boat and accompanied them in the effort to find and rescue Budthorne.
Professor Gunn was shaking like a man with the ague.
“Bub-bub-bub-boys,” he whispered, as Dick and Brad cautiously stepped out of the boat, “I th-th-think I had bub-bub-bub-better remain here and gug-gug-gug-guard the bub-boat.”
“That’s right,” agreed Dick. “You’ll serve us better here than you will to go with us. But don’t go away. Wait for us, no matter what happens.”
Aaron, who was determined to undo the wrong Dick had led him to believe he had committed toward Widow Myles, led the boys under the crumbling wall and into the grim and silent castle.
To Professor Gunn it seemed that ages passed, but at last his heart was sent quivering into his throat by the sounds that came from the interior of the ruin. There were hoarse shouts, a shot, and a muffled voice calling for help.
The professor wrung his hands.
“How can I ever tell Frank that I let his brother go to his death in this manner!” he moaned. “Both those brave boys will be murdered, and I feel that I am responsible for it.”
Within the castle the terrifying sounds continued for a time. At last the old professor was startled to see appear on a portion of the wall, faintly outlined against the sky, two dark figures. They grappled, one of them seeming huge and giant-like, while the other was much smaller.
Holding his breath in horrified suspense, Professor Gunn watched the brief struggle. The larger man seemed easily to conquer his antagonist, and the professor heard him hoarsely snarl:
“Ye runty de’il, ye ha’ played traitor on Rob MacLane, ha’ ye? It’s th’ last thing ye e’er do!”
Then the giant lifted the little man in his arms to hurl him from the wall.
At that moment another figure appeared. There was a flash of fire and the ring of a pistol shot.
The giant dropped the little man, flung up his hands and both plunged from the wall.
The shaking old man by the boat heard the one who had fired the shot exclaim:
“Great tarantulas! I sure opine that’s the end of both of them!”
It was Buckhart, the fighting Texan; but a moment later he had disappeared.
Then, as the still trembling professor crouched by the boat, he was startled to see two forms run past, one after the other. Directly the sound of oars came to his ears, and, peering out on the placid face of the cold lake, he beheld a boat that was being rapidly rowed away.
And he could have sworn there were three persons in the boat.
Miguel Bunol succeeded after much effort in tearing his assailant from his back and striking him down. Then the Spaniard fled from the room and down the stairs.
Bunol’s companions had been surprised and attacked. On account of the boldness of the assailants, they believed the force much larger than it was, and they lost no time in seeking to get away.
The light in the room was dashed out, and in the darkness the fight continued.
Aaron had singled out Rob MacLane, but the ruffian escaped by another door, and the little man followed him to the wall, where took place the encounter witnessed by Professor Gunn.
Marsh and Durbin had been fortunate in getting away in the dark passages of the old castle, and Buckhart followed Aaron in his pursuit of MacLane. Brad witnessed the peril of the little man, and fired to save him from being dashed from the wall. Following the shot, both men fell.
Buckhart retraced his steps and heard Dick calling to him. Guided by Merriwell’s voice, he came upon Dick, who was supporting Budthorne with one hand and holding a torch with the other.
“Perhaps we had better get out of here before those chaps recover and realize there are so few of us,” said Dick. “I think Budthorne is all right, and we’ve had great luck.”
“Luck!” cried the fighting Texan. “No luck about it, pard! I opine it was a case of pure sand, and we won the game on our merits.”
He then told what had happened on the old wall.
They lost no time in getting outside and aiding Budthorne to the spot where the terrified professor waited with the boat.
“But we’re not going away without finding out what has happened to Aaron,” said Dick. “Come on, Brad.”
They went in search of the little man and found him under the wall, his leg broken. Near at hand lay another man, who had something worse than a broken leg, for a bullet had pierced his shoulder and his neck had been broken when he struck the ground.
Innocent persons in that part of the country would never more be terrorized by Rob MacLane.
After a long consultation with Budthorne and his sister, it was decided, on Dick’s advice, that Dunbar and Nadia should quietly leave Scotland for Italy. Dick and Brad promised to meet them, if possible, after they had visited several points of interest in England, upon which the professor insisted.
CHAPTER X. – THE HAUNTS OF ROBIN HOOD
“Well, boys,” said Professor Gunn, “we are at last in the very heart of Sherwood Forest, the haunt of Robin Hood, the outlaw.”
“There certain is a right good stretch of timber and some of the biggest trees I ever saw,” confessed Brad Buckhart; “but it doesn’t seem to me that it should have been such a mighty hard thing to hunt an old outlaw out of a place like this.”
“Times were different then, and you must not forget that, while Robin plundered the rich, legends have it that he was always kind to the poor, and, therefore, he had many friends who warned him of danger and gave him protection.”
Dick Merriwell, Brad Buckhart, and Professor Gunn were being driven in an open carriage through the noble and famous forest. All around them stood the mighty oaks, some of which, it was said, had withstood the storms of seven centuries. The westering sun of what had been an ideal autumn day gleamed through the branches on which the brown leaves rustled and where the squirrels chattered. The frozen ground was bestrewn with fallen leaves, which rustled in little flocks along the hard road when stirred by a passing breeze, seeming like startled birds.
Earlier in the day they had visited Newstead Abbey, the home of Byron, where two hours were spent. On leaving they drove through the ever-thickening forest to a little wayside inn, where they lunched. After a rest, they resumed their drive, it being their object to stop for the night at Robin Hood’s Tavern, an inn of which they had been told by their cockney driver.
“Is it really true, professor,” asked Dick, “that Robin Hood was of noble birth?”
The old pedagogue shrugged his shoulders and smiled a withered smile.
“That is a question no one can answer,” he declared. “It has been said that he was the outlawed Earl of Huntingdon, but such a tale may have come from the fact that the really noble qualities he betrayed seemed quite unnatural for a robber and outlaw, and were supposed to be possessed only by those of gentle birth. But here in this forest he roamed with Friar Tuck, Little John, Will Scarlett, Allen-a-Dale, and Maid Marion. Here he made merry and lived such a life of adventure, and ease, and pleasure, that he has been the envy of every romantic youngster to this day.”
“Did he live long?” questioned Buckhart.
“Tradition says he lived his roving, careless, jolly life until he became a very old man.”
“And how did he die? Was he executed?”
“Oh, no. Being somewhat ill, he trusted himself to the prioress of Kirkley to be bled, and she treacherously let him bleed to death.”
“Do you believe there really was a Robin Hood, professor?”
“Why not?”
“Well, you know the story has been doubted by students of history, many of whom assert that the story of his life is purely legendary.”
“Hum! haw! Haw! hum!” coughed Zenas. “Some of these students of history are cranks and doubters on principle. They think they impress people with their great knowledge, acumen and judgment by doubting everything there is any chance of doubting. You can doubt anything that happened say a century ago if you wish to. No matter how strong the proofs may be, you can say they were manufactured. Do either of you boys doubt the story of Paul Revere’s ride?”
“Of course not!” exclaimed Dick.
“I should rise to remark that we don’t,” burst from Brad.
“Well, I once heard a man, an educated man, a scholar, declaring that the whole yarn had been manufactured out of moonshine. He didn’t deny there had lived such a person as Paul Revere, for Paul Revere’s descendants still live; but he insisted and maintained that the tale of his midnight ride had been elaborated and cooked up to please those who wished to make a hero of a very commonplace man.”
“Great tarantulas!” growled Brad. “That gent certain deserved to be shot up some for making such foolish talk!”
“Do you really believe there was a Robin Hood, professor?” asked Dick, once more.
“I think there is no doubt that such a man lived,” answered the old man stiffly. “Perhaps he did not pass through all the stirring adventures credited to him, but I am satisfied that there was a Robin Hood. He was passionately attached to the chase, and he was bold enough to make free with the king’s deer, which angered the king, who summoned him to London. Thinking himself far safer here in this forest, which was then much more vast, having since been cut away to a great extent, he simply ignored the summons, upon which the king pronounced him an outlaw.”
The sun was low in the west, and the long shadows deepened in Sherwood Forest. Soon the sun set and night spread its wing over the ancient haunts of Robin Hood.
“How much farther to the tavern, driver?” asked Professor Gunn.
“Not hover four mile, sir,” was the answer.
Behind them on the hard road there sounded the clatter of hoofs and rumble of wheels. Looking round, they saw a closed carriage, drawn by two horses, rapidly approaching.
“Some one drives in a great hurry,” said Dick.
The horses were steaming as they whipped past at a favorable place for doing so. The curtains of the carriage were closely drawn, and not a soul save the muffled driver was to be seen.
“Those horses have been pushed right hard,” observed Buckhart. “Wonder who’s inside the old hearse.”
They crossed a stone bridge and followed the winding road on into a still deeper portion of the forest. The sun went down and darkness gathered.
At last a light glimmered cheerfully in the distance and a dog barked.
“That is Robin ’Oods Tavern,” said the driver.
“Glad of it!” exclaimed the professor. “It’s getting cold since sunset. Not quite as bad as it was in Scotland, but too cold for comfort while driving.”
“Why, I allowed it was some hot up round Lochleven in Scotland,” chuckled Buckhart. “We warmed things up one night. Eh, pard?”
“Rather,” agreed Dick.
Amid the massive oaks stood the little inn, with the light shining cheerfully from its windows. Soon they drew up before it, their journey ended for the night.
Outside the inn, with the horses unhitched and removed, stood the same closed carriage that had passed them on the road.
A hostler came to take charge of their horses, and they entered the inn, being greeted by the landlord, a ruddy-cheeked man, named Swinton, who was smoking a rank-smelling pipe. The landlord welcomed them in a hearty, cheerful manner, bidding them come in by the fire and get warm.
“It’s going to be a cold night, gentlemen,” he said.
“Cold, indeed, sir,” agreed the professor; “but your little house looks bright, and warm, and comfortable.”
“So I think you will find it. You will stay to sup with me?”
“We hope you can give us accommodations overnight. Have you two rooms, one with a fire in it?”
“I have just what you want, I believe – two rooms with a door between, and a grate fire in one of them. You may be as comfortable as you please here.”
By this time the professor had learned that it was always best to bargain in advance for accommodations in England, and this he proceeded to do, haggling in a good-natured way with the landlord, who at first asked an exorbitant price.
“We’re not millionaires, my dear sir,” said Zenas. “We’re just plain, ordinary people, traveling through your beautiful country. The pennies count with us.”
“You’re from America, are you not?” asked the innkeeper, seeming greatly surprised at this confession.
“We are, but not all Americans have money to burn, even though the most of them who come abroad wish people to think so.”
Finally the landlord agreed to a price a full third lower than he had originally named, after which, having ushered them into a room with an open coal fire, he went away to prepare their rooms for them.
A servant came and removed the wraps, saying they would be taken to the rooms upstairs. He also took charge of the big hand bag, which contained their nightdresses and such toilet articles as they always carried with them.
After a time the porter came and announced that their rooms were ready for them. At the foot of the stairs a maid with a lighted candle waited to escort them. She was a buxom, red-cheeked country girl.
“Be careful hof of the stairs, sir; they’re very steep sir,” she said to Zenas, giving him a smile that made him brace up wonderfully. “Hi ’ave to climb them hoften henough to know.”
“Er-hum!” coughed the old fellow. “They say climbing stairs is fine exercise – great for the complexion. But you don’t need anything to improve your complexion, my dear – it couldn’t be improved.”
“’Ow kind you hare, sir!” she said, with a smothered laugh.
Dick was behind Brad, and he gave the Texan a pinch that caused him to utter a whoop.
“Ow, goodness!” cried the girl, in alarm.
“Don’t be frightened, my dear – don’t be frightened!” said Zenas quickly. “It’s only the boys.”
“Hit gave me ’art a hawful jump,” said the girl. “One gets frightened terrible in this ’ouse.”
“Get frightened here? Why?”
“’Avent you ’eard, sir?”
“About what?”
“This place is ’aunted, you know.”
“Eh? Hey? Haunted, did you say?”
“Yes, sir; they do say it’s the spirit of Robin ’Ood hisself that come ’ere, sir.”
“This is interesting – decidedly so!” said Zenas. “A haunted inn in the heart of Sherwood Forest! Why, I should think it would drive away custom if such a report got out.”
“Hinstead of that, hit brings people ’ere to see the place, sir. They seem to take great hinterest in ’aunted ’ouses.”
She flung open the door of a room.
“’Ere is your rooms, sirs,” she said. “The fire is warm, and Hi ’ope you will be very comfortable. Is there hany thing I can bring you?”
They entered the first room, in which the fire was burning. It was fairly large and comfortable, with a big English bed, surrounded by curtains.
“Wait a minute, my dear,” urged the professor. Then turning to the boys, he said:
“Here, you youngsters, take that candle on the mantel and inspect your room. The door is open, I see.”
Dick gave Brad a wink and picked up the candle, starting for the adjoining room. The maid had entered the first room and was waiting, candle in hand.
“You may go with Richard, Bradley,” said Zenas, seeing that Buckhart lingered behind.
“All right,” nodded the Texas youth.
As he stepped past the girl he gave a puff that extinguished the candle in her hand. Then he swiftly strode into the adjoining room, closing the door behind him.
Immediately the old professor began to call loudly for Dick and Brad to return.
“Come back here, you young rascals!” he shouted. “What are you up to, you scoundrels? Bring that candle instantly! How dare you do such a thing – how dare you!”
“I’m so frightened!” fluttered the girl, catching hold of Zenas. “’Ave you a match, sir? We might light the candle, sir.”
Dick opened the door and peered back into the room, discovering the girl clinging to the professor.
“Here! here!” he cried reprovingly. “What are you doing, Professor Gunn? You’re a married man. I didn’t think it of you! I didn’t think you would blow out the young lady’s candle and attempt to kiss her in the dark. It’s really scandalous! What would Mrs. Gunn say if she ever heard of this?”
“Oh, goodness! She’d have a fit!” confessed Zenas. “Bring that candle instantly! How in the world did this candle happen to go out?”
“Oh, I think you know how it happened,” laughed Merriwell.
“On my word I don’t!” declared Gunn. “I believe that reprobate Buckhart did it!”
“But he didn’t compel you to attempt to kiss the girl in the dark.”
“Oh, murder! I never touched her! She was frightened. She clung to me for protection.”
“Oh, all right,” said Dick; but his tone and manner seemed to indicate that he knew better and could not be fooled by such an explanation.
Zenas shook his fist at Dick in great excitement.
“If you dare hint that I was trying to kiss her, I’ll – I’ll – I’ll – ”
He seemed unable to find words with which to complete the threat, and so he turned to the maid, anxiously urging her to attest that he had done nothing of the sort.
Behind the professor’s back Dick winked and nodded at her, making signs she understood.
“Why, sir,” she said, falling in with the joke, “Hi don’t hexactly suppose you hactually meant to kiss me, sir; but – ”
“There it is professor – there it is!” cried Dick, while Buckhart laughed aloud. “She confesses that you really did do it, although she tries to shield you by saying it was an accident.”
“She didn’t confess anything of the sort!” palpitated Zenas, actually dancing in his excitement. “You’re twisting her language, you rascal! You’re perverting her meaning! You’re trying to ruin my reputation!”
“If she hadn’t said so with her own lips – the lips you tried to – ”
“Stop it! stop it!” implored Zenas. “If you respect me in the least, I implore you to stop it! If you ever hint that such a thing happened, if you ever breathe a suggestion of it in the presence of my wife, I’ll – ”
“Now, don’t threaten me,” said Dick reproachfully. “You know I’m your friend, and even though I have been saddened to know of your disreputable behavior, I’ll remain silent as the grave concerning it. Even though I may deplore your inclination to get gay with the girls, I’ll bury the black secret in my heart and never breathe a word of it to your lovely, delicate and trusting wife.”
“Lovely! Delicate!” gasped the old pedagogue.
“Don’t say a word against her, sir!” exclaimed Dick, with a pretense of righteous indignation. “She remains at home and permits you to travel abroad for your health, little dreaming that, while she thus sacrifices herself for your sake, you are carrying on scandalously with every pretty girl you meet.”
Zenas threw up his hands in despair, the expression on his face being so laughable that Buckhart with difficulty kept himself from roaring.
“I didn’t dream you could say such things of me, Richard!” groaned the old man.
“And I didn’t dream you would cut up so among the girls. Of course, I’ll keep still about it, and Brad will never say a word, but still it may leak out. It may get into the newspapers. You know there are representatives of the yellow journals of America in London. They may hear of it. It will make a breezy bit of scandal – a juicy morsel – for them. How would this sound in one of their papers: ‘Professor Gunn Gets Gay With the Girls. Giddy Old Chap, Traveling in England, Tickles the Chambermaids – ’”
With a genuine shriek of horror, Professor Gunn dropped on a chair.
“Stop! stop!” he yelled. “You’ll drive me to suicide!”
“But you know it may get into the papers,” Dick went on. “As I said, neither Brad nor myself will say anything about it.”
“Then how can it get out?”
“Why, the girl you tried to kiss may – ”
“Never tried it – never!”
“Well, the girl who says you tried to kiss her – ”
“Who says you did kiss her – by accident,” put in the boy from Texas.
“I stand corrected, and I accept the correction.” said Dick. “The girl who says you did kiss her by accident may happen to speak of it to other tourists. She may mention your name. It’s not unlikely some of those tourists may be newspaper men. If they are not, they may be friends of newspaper men. They may see an opportunity of making a good, spicy item out of it. Oh, there are ways enough for it to get into the American papers.”
“How can I prevent it?” groaned the tortured old fellow.
“Why, you might fix it with the girl,” answered Dick, again giving the maid a significant wink. “She’s a poor girl, but she’s honest and kind-hearted. She wouldn’t like to ruin you, and she’ll keep still – for an inducement.”
