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CHAPTER XXIII. – A KNOCK ON THE DOOR

The old man looked startled, and the girl showed signs of alarm.

“Quick, Drew!” she whispered. “Is the door fastened?”

“Yes!” quavered the old man.

“My revolver – where is it?”

“On the shelf – where you placed it.”

With a spring that reminded the boys of the leap of a young pantheress, she reached the shelf and snatched a gleaming pistol from it. Then she faced the door again, the weapon half raised.

The boys were on their feet.

“Land ob wartermillions!” chattered Toots, his eyes rolling. “Looks lek dar am gwan teh be a rucshun fo’ suah!”

Then he looked around for some place of concealment.

“What is it?” asked Frank. “Is there danger?”

“To me – yes,” nodded Isa. “But you do not care! I expect no aid from you, sir.”

“Who is at the door?”

“It may be Bill Higgins, the sheriff!”

“Come to arrest you?”

“Perhaps.”

“He can’t do it!” hissed Diamond, as he caught up a heavy chair and held it poised. “We won’t let him!”

The girl actually laughed.

“At least, I have one champion,” she said.

“To the death!” Diamond heroically declared.

The knock was repeated, and this time it was given in a peculiar manner, as if it were a special signal.

An expression of relief came to the faces of the old man and the girl, but they seemed very much surprised.

“Who can it be?” Isa asked, doubtingly.

“It is the secret signal,” said the man with the gray hair.

“That is true, but who should come here to give the signal?”

“It must be all right.”

“Wait. I will go into the back room. If it is repeated, open the door. Should it be an enemy or enemies, give me time to get away. That’s all. Hold them from rushing into the back room.”

“We will do that,” declared Diamond.

In a moment Isa disappeared.

The knock was given for the third time, and the old man approached the door, which he slowly and deliberately opened.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” he asked.

The reply was muffled and indistinct, but something like an exclamation of relief escaped the man, and he flung the door wide open.

Into the room walked a young man with a smooth-shaved face and a swaggering air.

“Hello, Drew!” he called, and then he stopped and stared at the boys. “I didn’t know you had visitors,” he said.

“So it’s you, Kent – so it’s you!” exclaimed the old man, with relief. “I didn’t know – I reckoned it might be somebody else.”

“You knew I was coming.”

“Yes; but I didn’t ’low you’d get here so soon. It’s a long distance to Carson, and – ”

“Never mind that,” quickly spoke the man, interrupting Drew, as if he feared he would say something it were better the boys did not hear. “My horse is outside. Where shall I put him?”

“In the shed. I’ll show ye. Come on.”

The old man went out, followed by the newcomer, and the door was left open slightly. Toots quietly slipped out after them.

Isa Isban came back into the room.

“I do not care to be seen here by everybody who may come along,” she explained; “but this person is all right, for Drew knows him.”

This was rather strange to all of the boys except Frank, but Merry instantly divined that she was afraid of Higgins and more than half expected the big sheriff would follow her there.

The secret signal and the air of mystery and apprehension shown by the girl and the old man convinced Merriwell that all was not right.

Isa had at one time “shoved the queer” for a band of men who made counterfeit money, and Bart Hodge had told Frank quite enough to convince Merriwell that she was still in the same dangerous and unlawful business.

The thoughts which ran riot in Merry’s head were of a startling nature, but his face was calm and passive, betraying nothing of what was passing in his mind.

Once more Diamond set about making himself agreeable to Isa, and she met him more than halfway. She laughed and chatted with him, seeming to have forgotten that such a person as Frank Merriwell existed.

Browning sat down in a comfortable position where he could lean against the wall, and proceeded to fall asleep.

After a short time Toots came slipping into the cabin, his eyes rolling, and his whole manner betraying excitement and fear. He would have blurted out something, but Frank gave him a signal that caused him to be silent.

At the first opportunity the colored boy whispered in Merry’s ear:

“Marser Frank, de bes’ fing we can do is teh git out ob dis ’bout as soon as we kin do it, sar.”

“What makes you think that?” asked Merriwell, cautiously.

“We am in a po’erful ba-ad scrape, sar.”

“What do you mean?”

“It am mighty ba-ad folks dat libs heah, sar.”

“Bad? In what way?”

“Dey hab done suffin’ dat meks dem skeered ob de ossifers ob de law.”

“How do you know?”

“I done hears de ol’ man and de young man talkin’.”

“What did they say?”

“Say dat ossifers am arter ’em. De young man say dat he have to run from Carson City to ’scape arrest, sar.”

“He is the horseman I saw ahead of us in the valley,” said Frank. “He must have seen us coming and concealed himself, expecting we would pass him. It is plain he did not wish to be seen.”

“Suah’s yeh bawn, boy! He has been doin’ suffin’ mighty ba-ad, an’ he’s dangerous. He said he wouldn’t be ’rested alive, sar.”

“This is very interesting,” nodded Frank. “It seems that we are in for one more exciting adventure before we finish the tour.”

“I don’ like it, sar – ’deed I don’! No tellin’ what such folks will do. He am feelin’ po’erful ugly, fo’ he say suffin’ ’bout trubble wif his wife an’ ’bout habbin’ her follerin’ him. Dat am how it happen he wur comin’ from de wes’ ’stead ob de eas’. He done dodge roun’ teh git ’way from his wife, sar.”

“He is a brave and gallant young man,” smiled Merriwell. “I admire him very much – nit!”

“Now don’ yeh go teh bein’ brash wif dat chap, Marser Frank. Dar ain’t no tellin’ what he might do.”

“Don’t worry. Keep cool, and wait till I take a fancy to move. I want to look him over some more. He will be coming back with Drew in a moment, and – Here they come now!”

Into the cabin came the old man, and the young man was at his heels. There was a sullen, unpleasant look on the face of the latter, and he glared at the boys as if he considered them intruders.

Isa looked up and arose as they entered.

The light of the lamp fell fairly on her face, and the newcomer saw her plainly.

He uttered a shout of astonishment and staggered back, his eyes opened to their widest and his manner betraying the utmost consternation.

“Is it possible!” he grated.

Then he clutched the old man by the shoulder, snarling:

“Confound your treacherous old hide! You have betrayed me. You said the woman was Isa Isban, and she is – ”

The girl interrupted him with a laugh.

“You seem excited,” she said. “I am Isa Isban, and no one else.”

He took a step toward her, his face working and his hands clinched.

“How did you get here ahead of me?” he hoarsely demanded.

“In the most natural manner possible,” she answered. “A friend brought me, Mr. Kent.”

“You know my real name – you know everything! I suppose you are here to secure evidence against me. You are looking for a divorce.”

“A divorce?”

“Exactly.”

“I do not understand you.”

“You understand well enough. We have not been married so very long, and our married life hasn’t been any too happy. You have accused me of abusing you – you have threatened to leave me.”

The girl looked bewildered.

“What is the matter with the man?” she murmured. “Is he crazy?”

The man seemed puzzled by her manner, and the witnesses of the remarkable scene were absolutely at sea; they could not understand what it was about.

“I am not crazy,” said the young man; “but I was a fool to marry you. You were not worth the trouble I took to get you. I should have let the other fool have you, instead of plotting to disgrace him in the eyes of your uncle and aunt, so I could get you.”

A great light dawned on Frank Merriwell.

“Great fortune!” he mentally exclaimed. “This is the fellow who married Vida Melburn, Isa’s half-sister, and he thinks this girl is his wife! They used to look so much alike that it was difficult to tell one from the other.

“Married – married to you?” cried the girl. “Not on your life! Why, I never saw you before, although I have heard of you.”

The man seemed staggered for a moment, and then, with a cry of anger, he leaped upon her.

“What is your game?” he hissed, as he shook her savagely. “What are you up to? I thought you a soft, innocent little girl, and now you are showing yourself something quite different. I believe you played me for a sucker! And you want a divorce! Well, here is cause for it!”

Then he choked her.

Frank went at him like a cyclone.

“You infernal villain!” he cried, as his hands fell on the man, and he tore the gasping girl from his clutches. “No one but a brute ever lays hands on a woman in anger, and a brute deserves a good drubbing almost any time. Here is where you get it!”

Then he proceeded to polish off the girl’s assailant in a most scientific manner, ending by flinging him in a limp and battered condition into a corner of the room.

Diamond had hastened to support the girl when Frank snatched her from her assailant, but she repulsed him and flung him off, saying, hoarsely:

“Let me alone! I am all right! I want to see this fight!”

With interest she watched Frank whip the man whom she had called Kent, though she swayed and panted with every blow, her eyes glittering and her cheeks flushed.

As Merriwell flung the fellow into the corner, the girl straightened up and threw back her head, laughing:

“Well, he was a soft thing, and that is a fact! Think of being thrashed by a boy! Drew, is it possible this is our Carson City agent, whom you called ‘a good man,’ when you were speaking of him this evening? Such a chap would blow the whole game if he were pinched. I wouldn’t trust him.”

The old man stood rubbing his shaking hands together, greatly agitated and unable to say a word.

Then there came a thunderous knock on the door, and a hoarse voice demanded admittance.

CHAPTER XXIV. – THE SHERIFF’S SHOT

Old Drew was greatly frightened, and Davis showed alarm.

“Hold that door – hold that door one minute!” cried Isa. “It will give us time to get out of the way!”

Bruce Browning’s shoulder went against the door, and he calmly drawled:

“Anybody won’t come in here in a hurry.”

“Come!” whispered the girl, catching hold of Hart; “we must get away! quick!”

Davis leaped after them.

“It will not be a good thing for me to be seen here,” he said. “If there is a way of getting under cover, you must take me along.”

“That’s right,” nodded Isa, “for you would peach if you were pinched. Come!”

By the way of the door that led into the back room they disappeared.

Rap-bang! rap-bang! rap-bang!

“Open this door instanter!”

Higgins roared the order from the outside.

“What’s your great rush?” coolly inquired Browning.

A volley of fierce language flew from the sheriff’s lips.

“I’ll show yer!” he thundered. “Down goes ther door if ye don’t open it immediate!”

“Be good enough, Mr. Drew, to ascertain if our friends are under cover yet,” said Frank.

The old man hobbled into the back room, was gone a moment, and then reappeared, something like a look of relief on his withered face.

“They’re gone,” he whispered.

“Will it be all right to open the door?”

“I reckon ye’ll have to open it.”

“All right. Admit Mr. Higgins, Bruce.”

Browning stepped away from the door, lifting the iron bar.

Instantly it flew wide open, and, with a big revolver in each hand, the sheriff strode heavily into the room.

Behind him came another man, who was also armed and ready to do shooting if necessary.

Higgins glared around.

“Whatever does this mean?” he asked, astonished by the presence of the bicycle boys.

“Whatever does what mean?” asked Frank, innocently.

“You critters bein’ here. I don’t understand it.”

“We are stopping here for the night.”

“Sho! Is that it? Well, you’re not the only ones. Where are the others?”

“What others?”

“One in particler – the one you helped to get away to-day. You’ll have to square with me for that.”

“I presume you mean Mr. Hodge?”

“That’s whatever.”

“I think your memory is at fault, sir. I did not aid him in getting away, but you owe me thanks for keeping you from shooting him. He would have made the unlucky thirteenth man.”

“Well, hang me if you ain’t got nerve! All the same, you’ll have to take your medicine for aiding a criminal.”

“He has not been proved a criminal yet, sir.”

“Oh, you know all about it! Well, he’s somewhere round this ranch, and I’m going to rope him. Watch the front, Britts.”

“All right, sir,” said the man who accompanied Higgins.

Then the big sheriff strode into the back room, picking up the lamp to aid him in his search.

Frank held his breath, wondering what Higgins would find.

After four or five minutes the sheriff came back, and he was in a furious mood.

“I know the critter is here somewhere!” he roared; “and I’ll have him, too! Can’t hide from me!”

“That’s right,” smiled Frank, with a profound bow. “You have an eagle eye, Mr. Higgins, and you should be able to find anything there is about the place. I wouldn’t think of trying to hide from you.”

“Ye-he! ye-he! ye-he!” giggled Toots.

Higgins’ face was black with fury. He pointed a revolver straight at Frank, and thundered:

“You think you’re funny, but I’m going ter bore yer if you don’t talk up instanter! You know where that galoot Hodge is hid, and you’ll tell, too.”

“My dear sir,” returned Frank, as he folded his arms and looked the furious man fairly in the eyes, “I do not know where Bart Hodge is hidden, and I would not tell if I did.”

Higgins ground has teeth.

“Say yer prayers!” he grated. “I’m goin’ to make you the thirteenth!”

He was in deadly earnest, yet it did not seem that Frank quailed in the least before him. Indeed, in the face of such peril, Merriwell apparently grew bolder, and a scornful smile curled his lips.

“Shoot!” he cried, his voice ringing out clear and unshaken – “shoot and prove yourself a detestable coward!”

The other lads held their breath. They felt like interfering, but something in Frank’s manner seemed to warn them to keep still and not try to aid him.

“You think I won’t do it,” muttered Higgins. “Well, I’ll show ye! I always do exactly as I say. Now, you eat lead!”

There was a scream, a swish, a rush of feet, a flitting form, and Isa Isban had flung herself in front of Frank, protecting him with her own body!

The heavy revolver spoke!

Bang!

Frank had realized with wonderful quickness that the girl meant to save him by protecting him with her body, and he caught her by the shoulders, flinging her to the floor in an effort to keep her from being shot at any cost to himself.

He would not have been successful, however, but for big Bruce Browning.

The big fellow had been watching Higgins as a hawk watches a chicken. At first, he had not thought it possible the sheriff would fire. He could not conceive that the man was such a ruffian. At the last moment, however, he saw Higgins meant to shoot.

Browning’s hand rested on the back of a chair. With a swiftness that was simply marvelous in one who naturally moved with the greatest slowness, he swung that chair into the air and flung it at the furious sheriff.

Higgins saw the movement out of the corners of his eyes, and, although the missile had not reached him when he pulled the trigger, his aim had been disconcerted.

The bullet touched Frank’s ear as it passed and buried itself in the wall.

Then old Drew dashed out the light, and the place was plunged in darkness.

CHAPTER XXV. – ESCAPE – CONCLUSION

The sheriff’s assistant lost no time in getting out of the cabin, rushing to one of the horses, which had been left a short distance away, and mounted. Then he rode madly away through the forest, deserting Higgins in a most cowardly manner.

When the lamp in the cabin was relighted, Higgins was found stretched senseless on the floor, the chair having struck him on the head and cut a long gash, from which blood was flowing.

“I’m afraid I’ve killed him!” exclaimed Browning. “I didn’t mean to do that, but I had to do something. I couldn’t keep still and see him shoot Frank down like a dog.”

“It serves him right!” said Diamond, but his face was pale, and he looked very anxious.

“I sincerely hope he will come around all right,” said Frank, as he knelt by the man’s side. “This scrape is bad enough, and, although he has shown himself a ruffian, I do not think we care to take the life of any human being.”

Isa Isban was looking down at the man, and her face softened and showed pity.

“You are right, Mr. Merriwell,” she gently said. “You have taught me a lesson. Higgins was a handsome man in his way, and it is a pity to have him die with his boots on like this. We’ll see what we can do to fix him up.”

Frank looked up at her, and one glance was enough to convince him of her sincerity.

“Poor girl!” he thought. “She has never been taught the difference between right and wrong. Even now, if she had a show, she might become something far better than she is.”

She knelt on the opposite side of the unconscious man.

“Bring some water, Drew,” she sharply commanded. “Bring something with which we can bandage his head.”

“Why don’t ye let him die?” whined the old man.

“It would be a bad thing for you if we did,” she returned. “His deputy has puckacheed, and he won’t do a thing but bring a posse here as soon as possible. It will be all the better for you if Bill Higgins is all right when the posse appears.”

“I’m ruined anyway,” declared Drew. “I’ll have to git out. They will search, and they’re bound to find everything if they do.”

“We’ll have everything out of here before morning, and then let them search. The first job is to fix Bill Higgins up.”

Water was brought, and she bathed the head of the unconscious man, who groaned a little once or twice. Then Frank aided her in adjusting a bandage. Once their hands touched, and she drew away quickly, catching her breath, as if she had been stung.

Frank looked at her in wonder, and saw that she had flushed and then grown very pale. Her eyes met his, and then her lashes drooped, while the blush crept back into her cheeks.

What did it mean?

More than ever was this girl an enigma to him.

The boys lifted Higgins and placed him on an improvised couch in the corner, as Drew would not permit them to place him on the bed in the little back room.

By this time Hart Davis had become convinced that Isa Isban was not the girl he had married, although she looked so much like Vida that he was filled with wonder whenever he regarded her.

He asked her pardon for his actions of a short time before, but she gave him no heed, as she seemed fully intent on making the sheriff comfortable and restoring him to consciousness.

Hodge did not look at Davis, whom he hated with the utmost intensity, as he feared he would spring upon the man if he did so.

After a while, Higgins opened his eyes and stared around in a blank manner.

“Did we stop the mill, pards?” he huskily asked. “The whole herd was stampeded and goin’ like a cyclone down the range, horns clanking, eyes glaring, nostrils smoking and hoofs beating thunder out of the ground.”

“What is the man talking about?” asked Frank, in wonder.

“He was a cowboy once,” Isa explained. “He seems to be thinking of that time.”

“It was a wild ride through the night, wasn’t it, pards?” Higgins went on, although he did not seem to be speaking to any one in particular. “It was dark as ten million black cats, and the cold wind cut like a knife. But we stopped ’em – we stopped ’em at last.”

Then he turned his face toward the wall and closed his eyes.

“I hope he isn’t going to die,” said Frank.

“So do I,” muttered Browning, sincerely. “I don’t want to have that to think about.”

When morning came Bill Higgins seemed quite strong, but his head was filled with the wildest fancies. He talked of strange things, and it was evident that his mind wandered.

Higgins did not wish to eat anything, but Isa brought him bread and coffee, and he took it from her.

“Pretty girl,” he muttered, with a gleam of reason. “Fine girl! Wonder how such a girl came to be out here on the ranch?”

In vain they waited for the appearance of the deputy and a posse. The expected did not happen.

Frank had a long talk with Bart.

“Old man,” he said, “you must come with me – you must do it! I will not take no for an answer. If Bill Higgins comes around all right in his head to-morrow he will be after you again. You must make for San Francisco and lose no time in shipping for some foreign port. After this affair blows over, you can come back.”

Frank was not satisfied till he saw Bill Higgins delivered into the hands of friends.

As for the deputy who took to flight, he met with a fatal accident while passing through the forest. Either he was swept from the back of his horse by a limb or was thrown off. Be that as it may he was found with a broken neck.

And Higgins still wandered in his mind when Frank left him.

The boys made great speed on the road to San Francisco, which they reached in due time, and there, with the other mail that awaited him, Frank found a brief letter from Isa Isban.

“I wish to let you know what the physicians who have examined Bill Higgins have to say,” she wrote. “They say he has lost his memory, and, although he may recover from the injury otherwise, it is doubtful if he will ever regain his memory. In that case, Hodge is safe anywhere, but it will be well for him to get out of California.”

The news was gratifying to Hodge, and he lost no time in disappearing from view.

The arrival of the bicycle boys in San Francisco was the cause of two celebrations, one among themselves and another among their friends in the East.

The tour across the continent had been a success, and the papers were loud in their praise of plucky Frank Merriwell and his companions.

“And now we can take it easy,” said Bruce, lazily.

“That’s Bruce,” laughed Diamond. “Always willing to take a rest.”

“Dunno but wot we hab earned a rest,” put in Toots.

“Doking snownuts – no, smoking doughnuts! what a lot of adventures we have had since we left New York!” came from Harry. “Any of us could write a book of travels without half trying.”

“We’ll take it easy for a while,” said Frank. “But not for long. I’ve got an idea for more sport, while we are out here.”

Long letters followed telegrams to the East and long letters were received in return.

“You’ve done the trick,” wrote one fellow student. “When you get back to Yale, well – I reckon the town won’t be big enough to hold you.”

“Dear old Yale!” exclaimed Frank.

That night the boys sang college songs far into the wee small hours of the morning. They were more than happy, and all their past perils were forgotten.

THE END

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Yaş sınırı:
12+
Litres'teki yayın tarihi:
10 nisan 2017
Hacim:
170 s. 1 illüstrasyon
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Public Domain
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