Kitabı oku: «Dick Merriwell's Trap: or, The Chap Who Bungled», sayfa 11

CHAPTER XXII – ANOTHER VICTORY FOR FARDALE

The escape of Chester Arlington from the burning woods seemed most astonishing to the four rascals who had left him there. Of course, they learned that it was Chester in the flesh, not his spirit, that they had seen sitting on the academy steps when they arrived there. At first it had seemed that he had not been given time to reach the academy ahead of them, even were he in the best of health and entirely unharmed; but when they came to consider the matter, they realized that they had spent considerable time in wrangling and in making a roundabout course that brought them to the academy as if they had come from a point almost opposite the burning woods. These small delays and this détour had given Arlington plenty of time to arrive at the academy ahead of them. Plainly, he had only been stunned by Bunol’s blow, and had lost little time in getting out of the woods after recovering.

It is needless to say that the relief of the young rascals was great. Knowing nothing of Dick Merriwell’s presence in the woods, they immediately agreed to swear sturdily that they were not there themselves, in case Chester made trouble for them.

But, to their wonderment, Arlington betrayed no great desire to even up the score. They fancied he would do this at once, but he ignored them. For a day or two he wore a handkerchief bound about his head, explaining that he had slipped and fallen on the stone steps of the academy, cutting his scalp. Chester was not one given to hesitation when a falsehood served his purpose better than the truth.

It was Saturday morning of the day that Fardale was to meet Springvale that Miguel Bunol slipped like a phantom into Dick Merriwell’s room.

Buckhart had gone out, and Dick was alone. Hearing the catlike step, Dick turned and confronted the young Spaniard.

“Well,” he said, “what do you want here?”

Bunol paused and threw up one hand.

“I come to tell you something,” he said swiftly. “You know Chester Arlington and I have been some friends. Mebbe you know we are not so any more? He try to throw me down. I do all I can for him. Well, I like it not much! From his friend I turn to hate him. When I hate, I hate a lot. Now I come to tell you that you will not win the football-game to-day. You think Chester Arlington change to be your friend, eh? Ha! Don’t fool yourself some like that! He stay your enemy forever. He make believe he become your friend. That is done to fool you.”

Dick smiled quietly, but the smile was followed by a frown.

“Go!” he exclaimed, pointing toward the door. “I want nothing to do with you.”

“I come to tell you something you better hear. Look, you; yesterday this room was entered and some papers were stolen from you. How do I know? I know. I find out. I know who come here. I know Chester Arlington he do that. Why should he come? You have a locket. It have a picture of his sister. He is bound to have that. It is one reason why he pretend to be your friend. He think perhaps he find it here when you were out. He do not find it, but he find papers on your table, and them he take.”

“You seem to know all about it,” said Dick.

“I know. I watch him. Once he tell me all he mean to do. Now he trust me no longer, but I watch him. I know papers he take have all the football signals, all the plays, all the things you do on the field. You mark out all your plays. You put down your signals. Yesterday you look them over. You work out one other new play. Then you have to go quick to classroom, and leave papers on table. When you come again they are gone. Ha!”

Dick was silent. The papers had been stolen, as Bunol described. His room had been entered by some one with a duplicate key, for the door was closed and locked when he returned to discover the papers missing.

“You know what he do with papers?” asked the Spanish lad.

Dick shook his head.

“He send them to captain of Springvale football team. To-day you see. To-day Springvale beat you. Springvale know all your signals – all your plays. Chester Arlington he get even with you ’cause you make him resign from committee.”

There seemed some reason in Bunol’s talk, and Dick wondered if the fellow did not speak the truth.

“How much you give me to trap him?” asked Miguel craftily, “I know how to do it. He lie to you. He make you think he is to you a friend now, when he is more your enemy than before. He play you false. I find a way to trap him, then you can make him get out of school. How much you give? You pay me, I do it.”

The thought of having anything to do with Bunol was extremely repulsive to Dick.

“You are a traitor to him,” he said. “I make it a practise to have no dealing with traitors. I do not trust you, Bunol, and so you may as well go.”

The visitor was astonished. He could not understand Dick at all. To him it was incomprehensible that Merriwell should not eagerly grasp at anything to crush an enemy like Arlington. Miguel began to chatter excitedly, but Dick sternly ordered him from the room.

“Fool!” snarled the Spanish lad, as he backed out “You see if Chester he do not beat you in the end!”

When the Spaniard was gone Dick thought it all over and worried about it. If Bunol told the truth, it was likely that Springvale would come prepared with a knowledge of Fardale’s methods and system that would make the game a walkover for the visitors. He thought of going to Chester and telling him plainly what had been proposed by Bunol. With this idea in mind, he left his room and ran into Arlington at the head of the stairs. Chester listened to Dick’s words, but his manner showed that he was aroused.

“So that is Miguel Bunol’s game?” he exclaimed, when Dick had finished. “Merriwell, it’s a lie! I did not take the papers from your room, and I know nothing about them. I brand the whole yarn as a lie from Bunol, and he must be the one who did the trick, else he would not know so much about it.”

Dick was not satisfied, but he could do nothing further.

Springvale had a husky-looking football-team, and it appeared on Fardale Field that afternoon with a swagger of confidence that seemed to betoken their belief in an easy victory.

Thor, their big full-back and captain, was a magnificent-looking fellow, with a shaggy mane of yellow and fearless blue eyes. He seemed a youthful reincarnation of the Scandinavian war god whose name he bore, if a god may be spoken of as reincarnated.

Springvale village had plenty of confidence in its team, and almost a hundred rooters had accompanied the young gladiators to Fardale to cheer them on to victory.

On the other hand, the villagers at Fardale had begun to believe the academy team could not be defeated, upon which their interest in the games waned, for which reason but a few of them came out. The cadets were on hand as usual, but the bleachers and ground were not crowded.

Springvale, like many of the other teams, had an almost entirely new line-up of players.

At a distance Thor looked handsomer than big Bob Singleton, but closer inspection showed that Singleton was of a higher order of intelligence. Thor was a fine animal, in almost perfect condition, delighting in physical contests, but he lacked a certain something that showed in Bob’s mild eye and lazy, well-modulated voice.

Phelps was a lively, slender fellow, while Wellington was swift on his feet and a great dodger and punter. Emery was a trifle larger than Smart, but not a whit quicker witted or capable. Springvale’s line was heavier than Fardale’s, but not a great deal heavier.

The game began with Fardale having the kick-off, and Singleton booted the leather to the twenty-yard line, where Wellington took it and sent it back with a magnificent kick that dropped it into the hands of Singleton. Big Bob started to run, found himself cornered by a tackler, and passed the ball to Dick Merriwell as he was dragged down. Dick went on, taking the ball to the thirty-five-yard line.

Then Fardale lined up for the attack, and Springvale prepared to hold the home team in check. The game was on.

The first assault on center was hurled back, and an effort to go around the left end was repulsed, a funnel-play directed at the right wing was a complete fizzle. Springvale seemed to anticipate every move and meet it quickly, destroying its effectiveness.

“They have our code!” muttered Dick. “The Spaniard was right! They know our plays!”

Fardale was forced to kick in short order. The visitors took the ball at the twenty-five-yard line, and the battle was shifted to Springvale’s territory, but with Fardale on the defense.

Springvale worked swiftly, using no signals at the start, which made it apparent that the team had entered the field with a series of plays agreed upon.

Wellington went round the right end for four yards, being pulled down by Dick. Next it seemed that Phelps had been sent to try the left end, but the ball was passed to Wellington, who again circled the right end, making three yards in spite of Dick, who had detected the trick.

A mass play was slammed into Fardale’s left wing. Kent went down before it, and Clark sat on him, while the tide rolled over them, the ball being carried to the forty-yard line. Kent was angry when he got up. Clark had fouled him, but the umpire had not seen it. Clark grinned into Don’s face.

“Wait! Wait!” said Don. “My turn will come.”

Springvale had Fardale going, and it kept the work up until the home team was pushed to its own twenty-yard line.

Dick was desperate.

“The Spaniard told the truth!” he kept repeating to himself. “Chester Arlington has betrayed us again! I was a fool to think he might be decent! It isn’t in him!”

He remembered how Chester had tried to bribe Jim Watson to steal the signal-code and diagram of plays at the very outset of the season. Watson had fooled him by supplying a false code and a lot of hastily faked-up plays. But a fellow who would think of betraying Fardale once could not reform so easily.

Both Arlington and Bunol must leave Fardale. Dick had endured quite enough. He had chosen to hold his hand on account of June, but now – well, not even for June could he see Chester Arlington betray the old school and work it harm.

Springvale seemed on the verge of success when the ball was lost by off-side play.

Fardale went at the enemy earnestly, but immediately after the first play the referee blew his whistle and set the cadets back for a foul.

Kent had been detected in an effort to get square with Clark, and everything seemed going wrong. To cap it all, Smart fumbled the ball and made a bad pass to Darrell.

Hal lost the ball. Hooper came through like the wind, gathered up the ball without stopping, and on he went over Fardale’s line for a touch-down. Dismay struck the watching cadets dumb.

Seeing this, Miguel Bunol chuckled and muttered to himself:

“Now mebbe Deek Merriwell he will believe me when I tell him they know all his signals and his plays.”

Chester Arlington seemed to be filled with the greatest dismay.

“It’s a shame!” he declared. “It was an accident, anyway! They can never score again.”

Crauthers, Stark, and Hogan were not far from him.

“He’s turned his coat, all right,” said Stark. “I did think it possible we had made a mistake, but it’s a sure thing that he is trying to get in with the Merriwell crowd.”

“Well,” said Hogan, “I hear that it was Merriwell who brought him out of the burning woods the other night. Now will somebody kindly explain to me how Merriwell happened to be there and where he was that we did not encounter him.”

“Not I!” growled Crauthers. “But I have found out that it is impossible to account for Merriwell’s acts.”

“Twice, then, has Merriwell pulled Arlington out of the fire,” said Stark. “I suppose that makes it seem to Chet that he must flop over and join the Merriwell crowd; but we’ve all heard him swear a hundred times that nothing on earth or in the depths below could ever change him or make him friendly toward Merriwell.”

“Plainly that was gas,” said Crauthers. “But I’m glad he wasn’t burned in that fire.”

“Can’t understand why he has not tried to settle with us,” admitted Hogan. “He must have known we were in the Den. And so it must be evident to him that some of us swatted him on the koko.”

At this moment the playing of the two elevens took all their attention, and this line of conversation was abandoned.

Springvale had kicked a goal. There had been some volleying after the kick-off, and then Wellington had made an effort to run with the ball, but had been brought to earth by Buckhart.

Fardale fought furiously now, and the visitors were unable to make gains as easily as they had at the outset. With every moment the home team seemed to grow stronger.

Dick resolved to cast aside the usual methods of play. He settled to straight football. The line held well, and Springvale could not advance the ball. She was compelled to kick.

Darrell took the ball and leaped away from Grant, who missed a tackle by a foot. Hal got away for fifteen yards before being pulled down.

Dick spoke a word to Smart. The plays peculiar to Fardale were abandoned. There was no funnel, no center-back, no ends around, but straight hammering football, smashing into the enemy’s line.

On the benches Chester Arlington rose and cheered. Fardale gained yard by yard. Springvale held as well as she could, but the cadets were at their best.

During the remainder of the first half the tide of battle shifted and swayed, but almost all the time the ball was kept in Springvale’s territory. Twice Fardale had the ball down close to the visitors’ line, but both times a touch-down was missed by a fluke or a fumble. It was disheartening, but Dick managed to keep the courage of the boys up, and they continued the work up to the moment when the whistle blew.

As he was leaving the field with his dirty, sweat-stained comrades, Dick saw Miguel Bunol hastening toward him.

“What you think now?” asked the Spaniard triumphantly. “You see they know every play. I tell you truth. What you do? You fail to expose Chester Arlington?”

“I shall do something when the game is over,” said Dick grimly.

Bunol seemed to take it for granted that he meant to strike a blow at Chester, and his heart rejoiced. Without delay, he sought Arlington out.

“Well,” he said, “how you like it?”

Chester shrugged his shoulders.

“Too bad Springvale made that touch-down,” he said.

“You feel bad!” sneered Bunol.

“Everybody does,” said Chester, with apparent sincerity.

“You feel worse after game, mebbe,” said Bunol.

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“Wait! You find out! Springvale know all Fardale’s plays. How she know them?”

“How do you suppose I know?”

“Perhaps you don’t. Deek Merriwell he want to see you after game.”

“See me?”

“He want to see you.”

“What for?”

“You find out,” said Bunol, with an insulting smile. “Perhaps you like it!”

Now, Chester felt like striking Miguel, but he turned from the fellow, shrugging his shoulders again. Did he show guilt? Was his face pale? Did he tremble a bit?

After the intermission Fardale returned to the field without a change in the team. One change had been made in Springvale’s line-up. Clark, who started the rough-house work, had “got his,” and he was replaced by a substitute named Mullen.

The second half was a hustler from the very start. Both teams went into the game to win, and the swift playing set the spectators wild with excitement, and for full ten minutes it seemed an even thing. Then Fardale got the ball on Springvale’s fifty-yard line.

Dick spoke to Smart, who nodded. A wedge was sent at the enemy’s center, protecting Singleton, who carried the ball, but Springvale tore the wedge to pieces.

Just as a tackler came through, Singleton tossed the ball out to Dick, who had kept clear of the wedge. Dick took the ball and was away like a flash. Shannock blocked Dodge, and Merriwell rounded the end.

Jolliby slipped through and flung himself before Phelps, who made a try for Dick. Phelps pulled Jolliby down.

Thor came cutting in. He was in Dick’s path, and there seemed no way to escape him. The watchers held their breath as Dick made a weak effort to try to dodge to the left of the big full-back. Thor laughed and shot forward for a tackle. Dick leaped like a panther to the right, changing his course with such amazing suddenness that he escaped the hooklike hands of Thor.

Wellington had been rushing down on them, but Merriwell quickly swung away, making it a stern chase. In vain Wellington tried to get near enough for a flying tackle. Dick kept on amid the wildest excitement and carried the ball over the line for Fardale’s first touch-down. But the ball had been carried over at the extreme corner of the field, making it necessary to punt it out.

Dick punted the ball, Darrell being placed to catch it. Somehow Hal missed, and the chance for a goal was lost.

“That settles it!” groaned a cadet. “We’ll never have another chance to tie the score in this game!”

But the success of that wedge-play had given Fardale new life. Dick reverted to the well-known plays of the team and sprung them on the enemy in rapid succession. Of course, Smart was the one who called for these plays, but he was working under Dick’s direction. The funnel-play made a gain twice and then was stopped. Center-back took Springvale by surprise and secured nine yards. Even the old ends around worked twice for fair gains.

“Somebody was mistaken,” thought Dick, in great relief. “Springvale does not know our plays. It was freshness and good luck that enabled them to check us at first as they did.”

This he became perfectly confident of as the game went on. As confidence returned the enemy was pushed harder and harder. Dick knew the game must be drawing to a close. Once he was tempted to try for a field goal, but did not do so, realizing that a miss meant certain defeat for Fardale.

With the ball seven yards from Springvale’s goal, Fardale was held for three downs without gaining an inch. Then Singleton fell back, and it seemed certain he was about to try to kick a goal from the field. Springvale looked for that – and was fooled.

The ball went to Dick, who followed Tubbs through center. The fat boy tore a hole through the line and kept on far enough to let Dick through, and out over the enemy’s line shot young Merriwell, barely in the nick of time. The goal was kicked, and Fardale had won.

As Dick was entering the gymnasium, Elbert Bradbury, a Fardale lawyer, spoke to him. Dick paused, and Bradbury said something that caused him to show great interest.

“All right,” said young Merriwell. “Just as soon as I can take a shower and get into my clothes.” Then he disappeared into the gym.

When he came out he saw Bradbury again, and this time Louis Thor, the yellow-headed captain of the visiting team, was with the lawyer.

“I congratulate you, Merriwell,” said Thor, putting out a large hand. “I thought we had you fellows, but you won out in the end, a trick Fardale generally does.”

Then the three walked away together, talking earnestly. Some time later Miguel Bunol was summoned to Dick’s room. He answered the summons. When he entered, he found Dick, Brad Buckhart, Chester Arlington, and Lawyer Bradbury there.

Miguel looked the gathering over coolly.

“Bunol,” said Dick, “I have determined to make a thorough investigation of your charge against Arlington here, and that is why I called you. He is here to defend himself as best he can.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bunol, smiling.

“You know. You came to me and declared that Arlington entered this room and stole certain papers. You also said that he turned those papers over to the Springvale team.”

“Well?” questioned Bunol coolly.

“Do you repeat your accusation?”

“I do.”

“You know it is a lie!” cried Chester hotly, springing from his seat.

“It is true,” returned the Spanish youth.

The lawyer pulled Chester back.

“Wait,” he said, facing Miguel. “How do you know this?”

“No matter. I know it.”

“But we insist on knowing how you know it. Did you see him enter this room?”

“Mebbe so.”

“Did you see him? Answer yes or no.”

“What right have you to ask?”

“I am a lawyer. Perhaps he has engaged me to defend him. You must answer.”

Bunol seemed a trifle nervous now.

“Yes, I see him,” he huskily declared.

“How did you happen to see him? What were you doing in this part of the building?”

“I follow him here.”

“Why?”

“Because I suspect. Because I want to find out what he do. He turn on me. Once he pretend to be my friend. I do many things for him. When he turn on me, then I hate him. I make up my mind I catch him in trap. That is why I catch him. That is why I follow him here.”

“And you saw him take the papers?”

“I see him. He leave the door a little open when he slip in. I come quick and still to door and peer through. I see him pick up papers from table.”

“You have said they were plans for football plays and so forth. How did you know that?”

“Oh, I hear him laugh and see him have the plans.”

“But you told Mr. Merriwell that he had turned the papers over to the Springvale captain. How did you know that?”

“I hear him say to himself that he will do so. That is what I suppose he do.”

“Mr. Thor!” called Bradbury.

Captain Thor, of the Springvale team, stepped out of the alcove in which stood Dick’s bed. At sight of the yellow-headed young gladiator Bunol changed color.

“Mr. Thor,” said the lawyer, with a motion toward Miguel, “do you know this boy?”

“Yes, sir,” was the prompt answer. “He came to me at the North Hotel to-day and gave me a lot of papers, which he said were the signals and plays of the Fardale team.”

“It is a lie!” cried Miguel.

“He thought I would be glad to get them,” said Thor. “He urged me to use them and never say anything about them. He seemed to take it for granted that I would not expose him, as he had done me such a great favor.”

“You did not promise not to expose him?”

“No.”

“What did you do with the papers?”

“I called in Charles Rowe, a member of the team, and we took the papers at once to your office, delivering them into your hands, and watching you seal them in an envelope.”

“Is this the envelope?” asked Bradbury, producing a large, square envelope.

“I should say so.”

“What do you wish me to do with it, and the papers it contains?”

“Turn them over to Captain Merriwell. I requested you to do so before the game, sir.”

“Business prevented; but it is all right now. Here you are, Mr. Merriwell, and I think you will find the papers all right. As for the young man who stole them,” and the lawyer turned to Bunol, “if you see fit, you can make a lot of trouble for him.”

“All I ask of him,” said Dick, “is that he leave Fardale without delay. He must go!”

Dick pointed to the door, and Bunol slunk out.