Kitabı oku: «Frank Merriwell's Alarm: or, Doing His Best», sayfa 5
CHAPTER IX. – A NIGHT ADVENTURE
Frank’s plan was carried out. All the treasure was removed from the cavern in which the mysterious old hermit was buried. The hermit’s horse was set free, and the boys carried the treasure to Ullin, Nevada, where it was shipped to Carson and deposited in a bank there.
“If it is not claimed in a year’s time, boys,” said Frank, “we will go about the work of having it evenly divided among us. In that case we will have made a good thing out of this trip across the continent.”
Nothing more was seen of the Indians, and the boys continued on their trip until Carson City was reached.
One evening Frank was strolling along alone when a shrill, piercing cry of pain, ending abruptly, cut the still evening air.
“Hello!” muttered Frank, as he paused to listen. “Something is wrong with the person who gave that call.”
He listened. In a moment the cry was repeated, and this time it ended with a distinct appeal for help.
Frank was unarmed, but he was aroused by the thought that a fellow being was in distress, and he ran quickly to a dark corner, from beyond which the cry had seemed to come.
To the left was a dark and narrow street, which looked rather forbidding and dangerous.
“I believe the cry came from this street,” said Frank, to himself. “If there were a few lights – ”
“Help!”
There could be no mistake this time; the cry did come from that street. A short distance away in the darkness a struggle seemed to be going on. Frank could hear the sound of blows, hoarse breathing, muttered exclamations and cries of pain.
“Some fellow is being done up there!” thought the boy from Yale.
Without further hesitation he ran toward the point from which the sounds seemed to come.
In a moment Frank was close upon two dark forms that were battling fiercely on the ground. He could see them indistinctly in the darkness.
“Ah-h-h, you little whelp!” snarled a harsh voice “So ye will run away, hey? Well, ye’ll never run away no more after this!”
“Oh, please, please don’t beat me so!” pleaded a weak voice. “You – you are killing me! Oh! oh! oh!”
“I’ll make ye ‘oh, oh, oh!’” grated the other.
Then the blows fell thick and fast.
“Here, you miserable brute!” rang out the clear voice of Frank. “You ought to be shot!”
Then he grasped the figure that was uppermost and attempted to drag him off the other.
To Frank’s surprise, although the attack had been sudden, he did not succeed in snatching the assailant from the unfortunate person he was beating.
“Get out!” roared a bull-like voice. “Lemme alone, or I’ll cut yer hide open! This is none of your business!”
“Help, sir – help!” cried the weak voice. “He has beaten me nearly to death! He will kill me!”
“Ye oughter be killed, ye ungrateful little whelp!”
“Break away!” commanded Frank, as he lifted them both by a wonderful outlay of strength and literally tore them apart.
The one who had been assailed could not keep on his feet, but swayed weakly and sank to the ground.
With a sound that was like the snarl of a ferocious beast, the other grappled with Frank. He was so short that he stood not much higher than Frank’s waist, but his shoulders were wonderfully broad, and he had arms that were almost long enough to reach the ground when he was on his feet.
“Great heavens!” thought Merriwell. “What is this I have run against? Is it a human gorilla?”
And then he found that the creature possessed marvelous strength, for Frank was literally lifted off his feet and flung prostrate, the other coming down upon him.
The fall came about so suddenly that Frank was dazed, and his breath was nearly knocked out of his body. For a moment he did nothing, and the creature scrambled up and grasped the fallen lad by the throat with hands that were like iron.
“Bother with me, will ye!” snarled that beastlike voice. “I’ll fix ye so ye won’t do it no more!”
Frank felt that he was in deadly peril, and that caused him to clutch the man’s wrists and hold fast.
He saw something uplifted, and he knew well enough that the furious creature had drawn a weapon of some sort.
“Look out!” panted the weak voice from close at hand. “He will kill you! He has a knife!”
Then, as Merriwell used all his strength to hold back that uplifted hand, he began to realize that, athlete though he was, he was no match for the person he had tackled.
The strength of those long arms was something wonderful, for little by little the man forced Frank’s hand back, and his knife approached the boy’s breast.
Merriwell felt that his power of resistance might give out suddenly at any instant, and then the blade would be driven to its hilt.
He was desperate and frantic, for there was something awfully horrifying in the steady manner in which that knife was forced nearer and nearer.
Cold sweat started out all over him, and he panted for breath, while it seemed that his madly leaping heart would burst from his bosom.
He could see two glaring eyes that seemed to shine with a baleful light of their own in the darkness. He could see the writhing features of a ghastly face, and he could hear the creature grate his teeth.
Nearer and nearer came the blade.
Crying and panting, the one whom Frank had attempted to save got upon his feet, swayed a bit, and then steadied himself with a great effort.
“You shall not do it – you shall not!” he gasped.
Then he flung himself on the man, seeking to drag him from the prostrate lad.
Frank saw that the time had come to make a last effort for the mastery, and so, aided by the other, he succeeded in forcing his opponent back enough so he could squirm out from beneath.
In a moment Frank gained his feet, and then, as the man with the knife came up, out shot the fist of the young athlete.
Smack!
The blow landed fairly, sounding clear and distinct.
Over went the dwarf, and the knife flew out of his hands, falling with a clattering ring upon some stones.
Merriwell knew he must follow up his advantage, but he was barely quick enough, for the fallen ruffian scrambled to his feet with the nimbleness of a cat.
But again Frank struck the fellow, using all his skill and muscle. He barely escaped being clutched by those long arms, but the dwarf was knocked down once more.
The sounds which came from the throat of the man were decidedly unpleasant to hear. They did not seem to be words, but were a succession of snarls.
By the time Frank had struck the creature again, he did not scramble up so quickly.
At that moment, having heard the sounds of the struggle, some person brought a light to the broken window of an old house that stood almost within the limits of the street.
That light shone out and fell full on the dwarf man as he was rising to his feet after the third blow. His long arms were extended so that his hands lay on the ground, and he was standing in a crouching position on all fours. His face was pale as marble, and disfigured by a red scar that ran down his left cheek from his temple to the corner of his mouth. His eyes were set near together, and were blazing with ferocity.
Taken altogether, Frank thought that the most horrible face he had ever seen.
The light seemed to startle the horrid-appearing creature, and, with a low, grating cry of baffled fury, he turned and ran swiftly away, still in a somewhat crouching position, his hands almost touching the ground, while he made queer leaps and bounds.
In a moment the dwarf had disappeared.
Frank gave a breath of relief.
“Good riddance!” muttered the lad from Yale.
Then he turned to look for the person he had saved from the dwarf.
That person had disappeared.
“Gone!” exclaimed Merriwell, in astonishment and regret. “He must have been frightened away during the last of the struggle. He was weak, and he may not have gone far.”
Frank resolved to search, and immediately set about doing so. He had not proceeded far when he came upon a form stretched motionless on the ground.
A hasty examination showed Frank it was a boy, who seemed to have fainted.
“It is the chap the dwarf was beating!” decided Merriwell.
He lifted the unconscious boy in his arms, tossing him over one shoulder, and started toward the lighted street.
“I must take the poor fellow to the hotel, and then we’ll see what can be done for him. He seems to be in a bad way.”
By the time the lighted street was reached the boy recovered consciousness. He struggled a bit, moaned slightly, and then, in a pathetic, pleading voice, he said:
“Please don’t take me back to Bernard Belmont, Apollo – please don’t! I know he will kill me!”
“Don’t be afraid,” said Frank, gently. “I am not taking you to any one who will harm you.”
A cry of astonishment broke from the boy.
“Why,” he exclaimed, “you are not Apollo!”
“No; I am Frank Merriwell. Who is Apollo?”
“A dwarf – a wretch – the hired tool of Bernard Belmont! Oh, he is a monster, without heart or soul!”
“He must be the one with whom I had the lively little set-to.”
“You – you came to my aid – you saved me from him! How can I thank you! But I thought he would kill you!”
“And so he might if you hadn’t helped me throw him off. You did it just in time, and I believe you saved my life.”
“Oh, but he had a knife – I could see it! And I knew he would use it. He has such wonderful strength.”
“He is strong.”
“Strong! I do not see how you held him off! But I could see him forcing the knife nearer and nearer, and I grew frantic, for it seemed that you would be killed before my eyes.”
“I was rather anxious myself,” confessed Frank, with something like a laugh.
“It was a nasty position.”
“I don’t know how I dared touch him, but I remember that I did. Then you flung him off and got up. After that, I remember that you were fighting, and I felt sure you could not conquer him. He would get the best of you in the end, and then he’d finish me. I was scared and tried to run away; but I did not go far before I became sick and weak, and – and I don’t remember anything more.”
“You fainted.”
“And you whipped Apollo?”
“Not exactly. I knocked him down a few times, but he seemed to spring to his feet almost as soon as he went down. Then somebody brought a light to a window and he was scared away.”
The boy clung to Frank.
“He did not go far!” he excitedly whispered. “He is not far away! He is liable to spring upon us any time! Bernard Belmont has sent him for me, and he will not rest till he gets me. Oh, I must get away – quick – to my sister! She is near – so near now! But my strength is gone, and – and – ”
The boy began to cough, and each convulsion shook him from head to feet. There was a hollow, dreadful sound about that cough – a sound that gave Frank a chill.
“Never mind if your strength is gone,” said Merriwell, encouragingly. “You’ll get along all right, for I’ll stick by you and see that you do.”
“You are so kind!”
“What’s your name?”
“George Morris.”
“Where do you live – here in Carson?”
“Oh, no, no! I live in Ohio.”
“That is a long distance away.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How do you happen to be here?”
The boy hesitated, seeming in doubt and fear, and then, with what appeared to be a sudden impulse, he said:
“I am going to tell you – I am going to tell you everything. Put me down here. Let’s rest. I am tired, and I must be heavy.”
They sat down on some steps, the boy seeking to keep in the shadow, showing he feared being seen.
“It’s – it’s like this,” he began, weakly. “I – I ran away.”
“Oh-ho!” exclaimed Frank.
The lad quickly, almost fearfully, clutched his arms.
“Don’t think I ran away foolishly!” he exclaimed, coughing again. “I – I came out here to find my sister, who is buried.”
“Then your sister is dead?”
“No.”
“Not dead? You said she is buried. How can a person be buried and not be dead?”
Frank began to think it possible the boy was rather “daffy.”
“There – there’s lots to the story,” came painfully from the boy. “I can’t tell you all. The letter said she was buried – buried so deep that Bernard Belmont could never find her. That letter was from Uncle Carter.”
“Uncle Carter?”
“My father’s brother, Carter Morris. He lives somewhere in the mountains west of Lake Tahoe. He has a mine up there, and he is very queer. He thinks everybody wants to steal his mine, and he will let no one know where it is located. They say the ore he has brought here into Carson is of marvelous richness. Men have tried to follow him, but he has always succeeded in flinging them off the trail. Never have they tracked him to his mine.”
“Then he is something of a hermit?”
“Yes, he is a hermit, and my sister is with him. He wrote that she was buried deep in the earth – that must be in his mine.”
“How did your sister come to be with him?”
“I helped her – I helped her get away!” panted the boy, excitedly. “I knew they meant to kill us both!”
“They? Who?”
“Bernard Belmont and Apollo.”
“Who is Bernard Belmont?”
“My stepfather. He married my mother, after the death of my father. He is a handsome man, but he has a wicked face, and he is a wretch – a wretch!”
The boy grew excited suddenly, almost screaming his words, while he struck his clinched hands together feebly.
“Steady,” warned Frank. “You must not get so excited.”
The boy began to cough, holding both hands to his breast. For some minutes he was shaken by that convulsive cough.
“Come,” said Frank, “let me get you to the hotel. You must have a doctor. There must be no further delay.”
“No, stop!” and the boy held to Merriwell’s arm. “I must tell you now. I seem to feel that my strength is going – going! I must tell you! He – he killed my mother!”
“Who – Bernard Belmont?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Killed her? You charge him with that?”
“I do. He killed her by inches. He tortured her to death by his abusive treatment – he frightened my poor mother to death. And then, when he found everything had been left to us – my sister and myself – then he set about the task of destroying us by inches. It was fixed so that he could get hold of everything with us out of the way, and he – ”
Another fit of coughing came on, and, when it was finished, the boy was too weak to proceed with the story.
“You shall have a doctor immediately!” cried Frank, as he lifted the lad and again started for the hotel.
CHAPTER X. – THE STORY
Frank succeeded in getting George Morris to the hotel, took him to a room, and put him on the bed.
“Do not leave me!” pleaded the boy. “Apollo will come and carry me off if you do. Stay here with me!”
“I’ll stay,” assured Frank; “but I must find some of my friends and send for a physician. You must have a doctor right away.”
Bruce, Diamond and Toots had gone out, but he found Harry, and told him what was desired. Harry started out to search for a doctor, while Frank returned to the boy, who was in a state of great agitation when he re-entered the room.
“Oh, I thought you would never come!” coughed the unfortunate lad. “You were away so long!”
He was thin and pale, with deep-sunken eyes, which, however, were strangely bright. He was poorly and scantily dressed, and the hand that lay on his bosom seemed so thin that it was almost transparent. One of his eyes had been struck by the fist of the brutish dwarf, and was turning purple. On one cheek there was a great bruise and a slight cut.
Frank’s heart had gone out in sympathy to this unfortunate lad, and he was filled with rage when he thought how brutally the poor boy had been treated.
Merriwell sat down on the edge of the bed, and took that thin, white hand. It felt like a little bundle of bones, and was so cold that it gave Frank a shudder.
“You are very ill,” declared the boy from Yale. “I believe you have been starved.”
“That was one way in which he tried to get rid of us,” said George.
“You are speaking of Bernard Belmont?”
“Yes.”
“He tried to starve you?”
“Yes, and my sister also. Little Milly! You should see her! She is such a sweet girl, and she is so good! I don’t see how he had the heart to torture her.”
“This Belmont must be a human brute!” cried Merriwell, in anger. “He deserves to be broken on the wheel!”
“He is a brute!” weakly cried the boy. “He killed my mother – my dear, sweet mother! Oh, she was so good, and so beautiful! She loved us so – Milly and me! Listen, my dear friend,” and the the boy drew Frank closer. “I – I think he – poisoned her!”
These words were whispered in a tone of such horror and grief that the soul of the listening lad was made to quiver like the vibrating strings of a violin when touched by the bow.
“You mustn’t think about that now,” said Frank, soothingly. “It will hurt you to think about it.”
“But I must, for, do you know, dear friend, I feel sure I shall not have long to think of it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Merry, with a chill.
“Something – something tells me the end is near. Apollo, he hurt me – here.”
The boy pressed one hand to his breast and coughed again.
“You are excited – you are frightened,” declared Frank. “You will be all right in the morning. The doctor will fix you up all right. You shall have the very best food you can eat, and I’ll see that you receive the tenderest care.”
The eyes of the lad on the bed filled with tears and his lips quivered, while he gazed at Frank with a look of love.
“You are so good!” he said, weakly, but with deep feeling. “Why are you so good to me – a stranger?”
“Because I like you, and you are in trouble.”
“There are not many like you – not many! I know I can trust you, and I do wish you would do something for me!”
“I will. Tell me what it is. I promise in advance.”
“I don’t want you to promise till you know what it is, for I have no right to ask so much of you.”
“Very well. Tell me.”
“When I am dead, for I know I shall not last long – will you find my sister and tell her everything? Tell her how near I came to reaching her, and let her know that I am gone. She loves me. I am only fifteen, but she is eighteen and very beautiful. She looks like my angel mother. Dear little Milly! Will you do this?”
“I will do it, if the occasion arises; but we’ll have you all right in a short time, and you will go to her yourself.”
“If I recover, I shall not be able to go to her.”
“Why not?”
“Bernard Belmont has followed me, and he will drag me back to the old prison – I know it.”
“He shall not!” exclaimed Frank, with determination.
“The law is with him,” said the boy, weakly. “He has the best of it, for he is my legal guardian.”
“At that he has no right to abuse you, and he can be deprived of guardianship over you. It shall be done.”
But no light of hope illumined the face of the unfortunate boy.
“It will be no use,” George said. “He has starved me and beaten me. He has drenched me with water, and left me where it was icy cold, so that I have been awfully ill. And all the time I had this – this cough.”
Frank leaped to his feet and paced the small room like a caged tiger, his soul wrought to an intense fury at the thought of the treatment the boy had received. He longed for power to punish the monster who had perpetrated such dastardly acts.
“Your sister,” he finally asked – “did this brute treat her thus?”
“Nearly as bad, but she was older and stronger.”
“Tell me, how did your sister get away from him?”
“We planned to run away together, and then I became so ill that I could not. I – I made her leave me. I told her she must find Uncle Carter – must let him know everything. It was our only hope. He must save us.”
“But how did she reach your uncle?”
“It was this way: We knew where Bernard Belmont kept some money in a little safe, and I – I knew how to get into that safe. That money belonged to us – it was mother’s money. Belmont was not worth a dollar when he married my mother. It would not be stealing for us to take it. Sometimes he went away and left us to be cared for by Apollo, the dwarf. Such care! Apollo was a monster – a brute! Bernard Belmont hired him to torture us. This time, when Belmont went away, Apollo shut us up in a room, leaving some bread and water for us, and we were left there, while he visited the wine cellar and got beastly drunk. He thought we were safe in that room – thought we could not get out. But we had been imprisoned there before, and I had made a key of wire. We got out. We found the dwarf in a drunken sleep, and we tied him. Then we went to the safe and opened it. There was but a trifle over fifty dollars in that safe. It was not enough to take us both to Nevada – to Uncle Carter. Then I fainted, and I was too ill to try to run away when my sister restored me. She insisted on staying with me, but I commanded her to go. I begged her to go. I told her it was the only way. If she did not go, we were lost, for Bernard Belmont would discover what we had done, and he would make sure we had no opportunity to repeat the trick. She wanted to stay and care for me. I told her Belmont would not dare harm me till he had caught her. It might be some days before he got back. It was possible she could reach Uncle Carter, and then Uncle Carter could come East and save me. After a time I convinced her. She took the money, dressed herself for the street, and, after kissing me and weeping over me, left me. I have never seen her since.”
“But she escaped – she reached your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“He made no effort to save you?”
“No.”
“Why was that?”
“I know nothing, except that he is queer. Perhaps he thought I was not worth saving. It was nearly a week before Bernard Belmont returned. All that time I kept Apollo tied fast, and I rejoiced as the days went by. When Belmont came there was a terrible outburst. I was beaten nearly to death. He tried to make me tell where my sister had gone, but I would only say, ‘Find out.’ When I had become unconscious and he could not restore me to my senses to question me further, he started to trace Mildred. He traced her after a time, but she had reached Uncle Carter, and she was safe. He wrote a letter to Uncle Carter, and the reply he received made him furious. It told him that Milly was buried so deep that he would never see her again. She was dead to him and to the world. Then Bernard Belmont swore that I would soon be dead in truth. After that – oh, I can’t tell it!”
Frank saw it was exhausting the unfortunate boy, and he quickly said:
“Do not tell it; you have told enough. But you escaped.”
“After nearly a year. I escaped without a cent of money, and how I worked my way here I do not know. Several times I dodged detectives, whom I knew were in the employ of Belmont. I got here at last, but I found Bernard Belmont and Apollo were waiting for me. I tried to escape, but Apollo found me, and – you know the rest.”
