Kitabı oku: «Frank Merriwell's Backers: or, The Pride of His Friends», sayfa 6

But Brazos Tom rose in a great rage, almost frothing at the mouth.

"Ten thousan' tarantulas!" he howled. "Let me git my paws on him!"

He made a rush for Frank, who seemed to stand still to meet him, but stepped aside just as the ruffian tried to fold him in his arms.

Then the big wretch was somehow caught about the body, lifted into the air, and sent crashing to the ground, striking on his head and shoulders. The young athlete from Yale handled Brazos Tom with such ease that every witness was astounded.

The big fellow lay where he fell, stunned and finished.

Gonchita looked at Frank with a light of the most intense admiration in her dark eyes.

"How you do eet so easee?" she asked.

"That's nothing, with a bungler like him to meet," said Merry quietly.

The ruffians said nothing, but exchanged meaning glances. They had been foiled for the time being by the girl and by the cleverness of their captive.

CHAPTER XII.
LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS

Four persons were lost in the mountains. Three of them were young men who were scarcely more than youths. All were mounted on broncos.

One was a bright-eyed, apple-cheeked chap, who had an odd manner of talking, and who emphasized his words with little gestures and flirts of his hand that were very peculiar. Another was dark and silent, with a face that was decidedly handsome, although it denoted a person given more or less to brooding and morbid thoughts. The third youth was long and lank and talked with a nasal drawl and a manner of speech that proclaimed him a down-easter.

These three were respectively Jack Ready, Bart Hodge, and Ephraim Gallup, all friends and former companions of Frank Merriwell.

The fourth one of the party was a red-nosed bummer, known as Whisky Jim, whom they had picked up to guide them from the little railroad-town to Frank Merriwell's mine. Jim had averred that he knew "every squar' foot o' Arizony frum the Grand Cañon to the Mexican line," and they had trusted in his promise to lead them, with the smallest possible delay, to the Queen Mystery Mine.

Jim would not acknowledge that he was lost. They had provided him with the bronco he bestrode and promised him good pay when they should come to the mine. He had collected enough in advance to "outfit" with a liberal supply of whisky, and had managed to keep beautifully loaded ever since they rode out to the Southwest.

Their horses were wearied and reluctant, while they were sun-scorched and covered with dust.

"By gum!" groaned Gallup. "I'm purty near pegged! This is too much fer me. I wish I was to hum on the farm!"

"Prithee say not so!" cried Ready. "You give unto me that feeling of sadness known to those who are homesick. Ah, me! to endure thus to have my beautiful complexion destroyed by this horrid sun! And behold my lily-white hands! Are they not spectacles to make the gods sigh with regret! Permit me to squeeze out a few salt teardrops."

Hodge was saying nothing.

"'Sall ri', boysh," assured the useless guide thickly. "Jesht you wait an' shee. Whazzer mazzer with you? I know m' bushiness. Who shays I dunno m' bushiness?"

He was able to sit perfectly straight in the saddle, although he was disgustingly intoxicated.

"I say you don't know your business, you old fool!" said Hodge, breaking out at last. "It would serve you right if we were to leave you here in the mountains. A great guide you are! You'd die if we left you! You'd never find your way out."

Jim looked astonished. This was the first time Bart had broken forth thus plainly.

"You don't mean it?" he gurgled.

"You bet your life I meant it! I'm in for leaving you to get back to town the best way you can."

"Oh, don't do that!" exclaimed Jim, sobered somewhat by his alarm. "Someshin' might happen t' you, boysh."

"Let's leave him," nodded Jack Ready, amused by the consternation of the old fellow.

"Derned ef we don't!" cried Gallup.

Upon which the "guide" became greatly alarmed, begging them for the love of goodness not to leave him there in the mountains to die alone.

"But you're a guide," said Hodge. "You would be able to get out all right."

"Boysh," said the old toper, "I got a 'fession to make."

"What is it?"

"I ain't been in the guidin' bushiness for shome time. I'm a leetle rusty; jest a bit out o' practish. That's whazzer mazzer."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place? What made you lie to us?"

"Boysh, I needed the moneysh. Hones' Injun, I needed the moneysh bad. Been a long time shince I've had all the whisky I could hold. Great treat f' me."

Bart was disgusted, but Jack Ready was inclined to look at the affair in a humorous light.

"I'd like to know the meaning of those smoke clouds we saw," said Hodge. "They looked mighty queer to me."

They consulted together, finally deciding to halt in a shadowy valley and wait for the declining of the sun, which would bring cooler air.

They confessed to one another that they were lost, and all felt that the situation was serious. It was not at all strange that Hodge was very angry with the worthless old toper who had led them into this predicament.

"We may never get out of these mountains," he said. "Or, if we do, we may perish in the desert. I tell you, fellows, we're in a bad scrape!"

"Dear me!" sighed Ready. "And I anticipated great pleasure in surprising Merry to-day. Alas and alack! such is life. I know this dreadful sunshine will spoil my complexion!"

Gallup looked dolefully at the horses, which were feeding on the buffalo-grass of the valley.

"We're a pack of darn fools!" he observed. "We'd oughter sent word to Frankie that we was comin', an' then he'd bin on hand to meet us."

The "guide" had stretched himself in the shadow of some boulders and fallen fast asleep.

"I suppose I'm to blame for this thing, fellows," said Bart grimly. "It was my scheme to take Merry by surprise."

"Waal, I ruther guess all the rest of us was reddy enough ter agree to it," put in Gallup. "We're jest ez much to blame as you be."

They talked the situation over for a while. Finally Bart rose and strolled off by himself, Gallup calling after him to look out and not go so far that he could not find his way back.

Hodge was gone almost an hour. His friends were growing alarmed, when he came racing back to them, his face flushed with excitement and his eyes flashing.

"Come, fellows!" he cried, his voice thrilling them. "I've got something to show you! We're wanted mighty bad by a friend of ours who is in trouble!"

They were on their feet.

"Who in thutteration be you talkin' abaout?" asked Gallup.

"Perchance you mean Frank?" said Ready.

"You bet your life!" said Bart. "Make sure your rifles are in working order! Leave the horses right where they're picketed. Leave Jim with them. He'll look after them, if he awakes."

For Whisky Jim continued to sleep soundly through all this.

So they seized their weapons and prepared to follow Bart.

As they ran, Bart made a brief explanation. He had climbed to a point from whence he looked down into a grassy valley, and there he discovered some horses and men. The horses were feeding, and the men were reclining in the shade, with the exception of one or two. While Bart looked he recognized one of the men, and also saw a girl. At first he thought he must be deceived, but soon he was satisfied that the one he recognized was the comrade he had traveled thousands of miles to join, bringing with him Ready and Gallup.

As he watched, he saw the encounter between Merry and Brazos Tom, and that was enough to satisfy Hodge that his friend was in serious trouble. Then he hastened back to get Jack and Ephraim.

When Bart again reached the point where he could look into that valley he was astonished to discover that another struggle was taking place down there.

Frank was engaged in a knife-duel with Red Sam, having been forced into it. And Red Sam meant to kill him.

The watching ruffians were gathered around, while Gonchita, a pistol in her hand, was watching to see that the youth had fair play.

Without doubt, the sandy ruffian had expected to find Merriwell easy, and finish him quickly in an engagement of this sort. But Frank Merriwell had been instructed in knife-play by a clever expert, and he soon amazed Red Sam and the other ruffians by meeting the fellow's assault, catching his blade, parrying thrust after thrust, leaping, dodging, turning, charging, retreating, and making such a wonderful contest of it that the spectators were electrified.

It was Frank's knife that drew first blood. He slit the ruffian's sleeve at the shoulder and cut the man slightly.

Gonchita's dark eyes gleamed. More than ever she marveled at this wonderful youth, who seemed more than a match for any single ruffian of Bill's band.

"He is a wonder!" she told herself. "Oh, he is grand! They meant to kill him. If he beats Red Sam they shall not kill him."

Sam swore when he felt the knife clip his shoulder.

"I'll have your heart's blood!" he snarled.

Frank smiled into his face in a manner that enraptured the watching girl.

"You are welcome to it – if you can get it! But look out for yourself!"

Then he began a whirlwindlike assault upon Sam, whom he soon bewildered by his movements. He played about the man like a leaping panther. Once Sam struck hard at Frank's breast, and Merry leaped away barely in time, for the keen knife slit the front of his shirt, exposing the clean white skin beneath.

But again and again Frank cut the big ruffian slightly, so that soon Sam was bleeding from almost a dozen wounds and slowly growing weaker in spite of his efforts to brace up.

The knives sometimes flashed together. The men stood and stared into each other's eyes. Then they leaped and dodged and struck and struck again.

Little did Frank dream of the friends who were watching him from above.

Bart Hodge was thrilled into silence by the spectacle. He knelt, with his rifle ready for instant use, panting as the battle for life continued.

"Great gosh all hemlock!" gurgled Ephraim Gallup, his eyes bulging. "Did you ever see anything like that in all your natteral born days? Dern my squash ef I ever did!"

"It is beautiful!" said Jack Ready. "Frank is doing almost as well as I could do myself! I'll have to compliment him on his clever work."

Twice Bart Hodge had the butt of his rifle against his shoulder, but lowered it without firing.

"He's gittin' the best of the red-headed feller!" panted Gallup.

"Of course!" nodded Ready. "Did you look for anything else to happen?"

"Them men don't like it much of enny."

"They do not seem greatly pleased."

"I bet they all go fer him if he does the red-head up."

"In which case," chirped Jack, "it will be our duty to insert a few lead pills into them."

Bart was not talking. He believed Frank in constant danger of a most deadly sort, and he was watching every move of the ruffians, ready to balk any attempt at treachery.

As Sam weakened Frank pressed him harder. The fellow believed Merry meant to kill him, if possible.

At length Merriwell caught Sam's blade with his own, gave it a sudden twist, and the fellow's knife was sent spinning through the air, to fall to the ground at a distance.

At that moment one of the ruffians suddenly flung up a hand that held a revolver, meaning to shoot Frank through the head.

Before he could fire, however, he pitched forward on his face.

Down from the heights above came the clear report of the rifle in the hands of Bartley Hodge.

Bart had saved the life of his old friend.

CHAPTER XIII.
FRANK'S ESCAPE

As the ruffian pitched forward on his face, Gonchita uttered a cry. The attention of the men was turned toward the point from which the unexpected shot had come. The Mexican girl caught hold of Merry, thrust a pistol into his hand, and hissed:

"Back – back there! Quick! It's your chance! You take eet!"

Frank did not hesitate. With the pistol in his hand, he went leaping toward the point of cover indicated. He was behind the rocks before the desperadoes realized what had taken place. They turned, uttering exclamations of anger and dismay.

"Steady, you chaps!" rang out Frank's clear voice. "Keep your distance! If you don't – "

But now the three young fellows above began shooting into the valley, and their whistling bullets sent the ruffians scudding to cover.

Gonchita disdained to fly. She walked deliberately to the shelter of the rocks near Frank.

"I geet horse for you," she said. "You take eet an' ride. Eet ees your chance. Mebbe them your friend?"

Frank had caught barely a glimpse of the three fellows, and he was not at all sure that his eyes had not deceived him.

"Perhaps they are my friends," he said. "They must be."

"You ready to go?"

"Yes."

She ran out and pulled the picket pin of one of the horses. This animal she brought up close to the point where Frank crouched.

"Take heem queek!" she panted. "You haf de chance! Down de vallee. Mebbe you git 'way."

Frank hesitated. He knew the danger of such an attempt. He no longer doubted the friendliness of Gonchita, although the remarkable change in her was most astonishing.

But the firing from above continued, and the ruffians were forced to again take to their heels and seek still safer shelter farther up the valley.

That was Merry's opportunity, and he seized it. In a twinkling, while the rascals were in confusion, he leaped upon the bare back of the horse, headed the animal down the valley, and was off.

A yell came down from above; but Frank, bending low, did not answer it.

Two or three bullets were sent after him. He was untouched, however.

Gonchita had armed him with two pistols, neither of which he had used. One he held gripped in his hand as the horse carried him tearing down the valley, and thus he came full upon Cimarron Bill, who was returning to his satellites.

Bill was astounded. He had drawn a pistol, and he fired at the rider who was stooping low along the neck of the horse. The animal tossed its head and took the bullet in his brain.

Even as the horse fell, Frank fired in return. He flung himself from the animal, striking on his feet.

Bill's horse reared high in the air, striking with its forward feet. The rider leaned forward and fired from beneath the creature's neck as it stood on its hind legs, but the movements of the animal prevented him from accuracy.

Merry's second shot struck the hind leg of Bill's horse, and the creature came down in such a manner that its rider was pitched off, striking upon his head and shoulders.

Frank did not fire again, for Bill lay in a heap on the ground. The horse struggled up, being caught by Merry. Frank looked to the beast's wound, fearing to find its leg broken. This, however, was not the case, although the bullet had made a rather ugly little wound.

In another moment Frank was in Bill's saddle, and away he went on the back of the chief's horse, leaving the stunned rascal where he had fallen.

"An exchange of horses," he half-laughed. "You may have my dead one in place of your wounded one. If you do not like the bargain, Captain Bill, blame yourself."

He was in no great fear of pursuit, but he longed to know just what friends had come to his rescue at such an opportune moment. How was he to reach them?

When he felt that he was safe, he drew up Bill's splendid horse, dismounted and examined the bleeding wound. It was far less serious than he had feared, and he proceeded to dress it, tearing his handkerchief into strips to tie about the creature's leg.

Having attended to his horse, Merry remounted and sought to find a means of approaching the spot from which his unknown friends had fired into the valley at such an opportune moment.

He was thus employed when he came upon a most disreputable-looking old bummer, who had in his possession four horses. This man was startled by the appearance of Merriwell and acted very strangely.

Frank rode slowly forward, ready for whatever might take place. However, he was recognized by the man, who uttered a shout of astonishment.

The man with the horses was Whisky Jim, who had awakened to find his companions gone.

He greeted Merriwell with protestations of delight.

"I knew I wash a guide!" he said. "Who shed I washn't guide? I shed I'd bring 'em to Frank Merriwell, an' I done it. But whazzer mazzer? Where zey gone? I dunno."

Barely had Merry started to question the old toper when Hodge, Ready, and Gallup appeared, hurrying forward. When they saw Merriwell they gave a cheer of delight, and, one minute later, they were shaking hands with him.

"What does this mean?" asked Frank, when he could recover enough to ask anything.

"It means," said Bart, "that we are here to back you up in your fight against the mining trust. You can depend on us to stand by you. After getting your letter, in which you wrote all about the hot time you were having fighting the trust, I hastened to get hold of Ready and Gallup and light out for this part of our great and glorious country. Here we are, though we're dead in luck to find you, for this drunken duffer managed to lose us here in the mountains."

"And you were the ones who chipped in just at the right time after my little encounter with Red Sam? Fellows, you have given me the surprise of my life! It's great to see you again! I ran into those gents, or was led into a trap by a very singular girl, and it looked as if I was in a bad box. The girl, however, seemed to change her mind after getting me into the scrape, and she wanted to get me out. I owe her a lot. But there is no telling when Cimarron Bill and his gang may come hiking this way after me, so I propose that we light out for the Queen Mystery, where we can talk things over at our leisure."

They were ready enough to follow his lead.

Jim Tracy sat with his feet elevated upon Frank Merriwell's table, smoking his pipe and talking to Hop Anson, who was on the opposite side of the table when the door opened and Frank stepped in, followed by his friends, with Whisky Jim staggering along in the rear.

Tracy's boots came down from the table with a thud, and he jumped up, uttering an exclamation and looking astounded.

"Well, may I be derned!" he said, staring at Frank.

Now Merriwell was not at all pleased to find the foreman making free in his cabin in such a manner.

"What's the matter, Tracy?" he asked sharply, glancing from Jim's face to that of Anson, who seemed no less confounded. "You seem disturbed."

"I allow I didn't expect ye back so soon," mumbled the foreman, who could not recover his composure at once.

"But I told you I might be back in a few hours, or I might not return for many days."

"I know, but – "

"But what?"

"Oh, nothing!"

"It's plain you were making yourself quite at home here. What were you doing with Anson?"

"Jest givin' him a piece o' my mind," answered Tracy promptly. "I reckon he knows now purty well what I think of him."

Now to Merry, it had seemed on his appearance that these two men were engaged in a confidential chat.

"Well, couldn't you find some other place to talk to him?" Frank asked.

"I brought him here so the rest of the boys wouldn't hear us," explained Tracy. "I opined they might take a right strong dislike to him in case they found out what happened this mornin'."

"You have not told them?"

"No."

"Well, your consideration for Anson seems very strange, considering the talk you made to-day at an earlier hour."

"I'm jest follerin' your orders," protested the foreman, not at all pleased by Merry's manner.

"Very well. You may retire, Tracy. Boys, make yourselves at home."

As Tracy and Anson were going out, the eyes of the latter encountered those of Whisky Jim, who was surveying him closely in a drunken manner.

"Who are you lookin' at?" muttered Anson.

"Sheems to me," said Jim thickly, "I'm a-lookin' at a gent what had shome deeficulty down Tucson way 'bout takin' a hoss what b'longed to nozzer man."

"You're a liar, you drunken dog!" grated Anson, as he hastened from the cabin.

"Do you know that man?" asked Merry, of Jim.

"Sh!" hissed the toper, with a cautioning gesture. "I don't want 't gener'lly know I ever shaw him before. He'sh a hosh-thief. He'd shteal anything, he would. I never 'nowledge him ash 'quaintance of mine."

"Do you know the other man, my foreman?"

"Sheems to look ruzer nacheral," said Jim; "but can't 'zactly plashe him. All shame, if he keeps comp'ny wish that hosh-thief, you look out f' him."

Frank celebrated his safe return to the mine in company with his friends by preparing a rather elaborate spread, and all gathered about the table to enjoy it and chat about old times and the present fight Merry was making against the mining trust.

"Waal, dinged if this ain't scrumpshus!" cried Ephraim Gallup. "I'm feelin' a hanged sight better than I was when we was lost out in the maountains this arternoon."

"Fellows," said Merry, "you have given me the surprise of my life. I never dreamed of seeing you at such a time. And Bart's shot saved my life. I know it! I owe him everything!"

There was a glow of satisfaction in the dark eyes of Hodge.

"You owe me nothing," he said earnestly. "Whatever I am I owe it to you. Do you think I am a fellow to forget? That is why I am here. I felt that this was the time for me to prove my loyalty. When I explained it to Ephraim and Jack they were eager to come with me to back you in your fight. If you need them, you can have any of the old gang. They'll come to a man."

"Thus far," said Merry, "I have been able to balk every move of the enemy. They have employed ruffians who hesitate at nothing. You saw the fellow with the bandaged hand who was here with my foreman? Well, it was this very morning, while I was shaving at that glass, that he crept up to that open door and tried to shoot me in the back. I fired first, and he has lost a few fingers."

"Dear me!" said Ready. "I'm so frightened! What if somebody should take a fancy to shoot me full of holes! It might damage me beyond repair!"

"Gol ding it!" chuckled Gallup. "You must be havin' enough to keep you alfired busy around here. But what is that chap a-doin' of stayin' here?"

Frank explained fully about Hop Anson, adding that he had partly believed Anson's statement that it was the foreman for whom he was looking.

"But since coming back here unexpectedly," said Merry, "and finding them together in such a friendly fashion, I am inclined to think differently. Tracy pretended to have a powerful feeling against Anson. Something leads me to believe now that Tracy will bear watching."

They sat up until a late hour talking over old times and other matters that interested them all. When they slept they took pains to make sure that the door and windows were secured.

Whisky Jim slept outside in another building.