Frank Merriwell's Athletes Part 34

"And so do I," declared Inza, sincerely, regarding the Indian with admiration. "I want to thank you again for what you did. It was splendid of you."

She held out her hand once more. John took it, bowed low, and, to her surprise, lifted it to his lips. It was an act that astonished Frank more than any one else, for, despite what he knew of Swiftwing, he had felt that the Indian was incapable of such a thing.

With a wave of his hand to Frank and the others, Swiftwing turned and walked away.

"He is a splendid fellow!" said Inza, a flush on her cheeks. "I did not suppose there could be such a difference between two Indians."

"Look out, Frankie, me b'y!" chuckled Barney. "It's a rid roival ye'll have th' firrust thing ye know."

Miss Abigail gave a contemptuous sniff.

"He appeared all right," she said "but even he is an Indian, and no Indian can ever be like a white man."

It seemed that John Swiftwing's ears were remarkably keen, for he seemed to hear those words, and he paused suddenly, turning about with a proud gesture. He was at the corner of the station, and not one of that group ever forgot how he looked as he stood there, looking back at them with all the haughtiness of his nature aroused. With something like a gesture of anger and disdain, he turned again and vanished around the corner.

A moment later he was seen galloping away on the back of a tough little pony, going like the wind and riding like a Centaur.

"How could you have said that so he could hear you, aunt!" pouted Inza, her eyes following the retreating figure of Swiftwing. "It was too bad, after all he did for-for me!"

Barney nudged Frank in the ribs, whispering:

"Didn't Oi tell yez! It's shtuck she is alriddy."

Frank laughed carelessly.

"I didn't think he could hear me," said the spinster; "but it was true, anyhow. He's got on a white man's clothes, but that don't make him like a white man."

"Yaw!" put in Hans Dunnerwust, getting nearer Miss Abigail; "dot peen so, you pet."

The old maid gave him a scornful look.

"What do you know about it!" she exclaimed.

"Oxcuse me," said the Dutch boy. "You took mein vord for dot."

"I wouldn't take your word for anything," sniffed Miss Abigail, as she turned away.

Barney and Ephraim chuckled, and Hans looked rather crestfallen, shaking his head and muttering:

"Vale, she vos a pird!"

The train pulled out of the station, and the party crossed the footbridge to the adobe building.

In front of the building stood two light platform wagons, to each of which were attached two of those diminutive broncho ponies whose endurance has so many surprises.

These were the stages of Ramon Griego & Co.

Curiously enough, the firm with this imposing name was composed of two Mexican boys, who were brothers, and who carried a long star route into the mountains, gathering and delivering mail pouches at a number of little settlements on the way.

Ramon proved to be a bright, well-dressed young man, and could speak English fluently, a fact worthy of note in a land where the inhabitants of the isolated hamlets are three hundred years behind the times.

He had been expecting a large number of pa.s.sengers, and was prepared for them.

Frank's party took up one entire wagon, and it was a big load for the little bronchos. If Frank had not known what sort of stuff there was in the little animals, he might have hesitated about starting out with a wagon load of twelve persons, to say nothing of several mail pouches.

The driver, a Mexican lad, occupied a seat with Toots. He cracked his long whip and uttered a yell. The little bronchos started slowly, broke into a run, and away they went, with the boys waving their hats and cheering, while Inza fluttered her handkerchief to the Mexican postmaster, who was standing in the open doorway.

The first turn of the road around a jutting rock hid the railroad from view, and it seemed that the party immediately plunged one hundred years into antiquity.

Each seat was wide enough for three ordinary persons, but Hans had been determined to secure a position beside Miss Abigail, and had succeeded, much to the old maid's discomfort. The Dutch boy looked supremely satisfied with himself, and it was plain he thought he was making progress.

The boys sang, Frank starting it. There were some musical voices in the party, and they formed a decidedly jolly "glee club." The songs of Yale were popular with them, and they awoke the echoes with "Here to Good Old Yale," "Bingo," "Solomon Levi," and so forth.

At two or three points the canyon widened enough to permit a few acres of river bottom, and there several Mexican families lived, managing to keep soul and body together in some mysterious manner that defies a Northern understanding.

About the driver's waist was a cartridge belt that bore two Colt revolvers of .44 caliber, and the boy had a significant way of fingering those guns occasionally that made Miss Abigail very nervous.

"If he tries to murder the whole of us--Well, let him try it!" she said, with a significant hardening of the jaws. "He'll get all he's bargained for."

"Dot vos right," nodded Hans. "He don'd done dot murderin' mitout troubles."

Miss Abigail was silent. Encouraged by this, the Dutch boy added:

"Shust you trust myself to you und you vos all right. I vill peen your brotector all der times."

"You!" sniffed Miss Abigail. "Why, if you saw your own shadow you'd think an elephant was after you and run away."

Ephraim snickered, and Hans looked disgusted.

The scenery proved very monotonous, and the party subsided into silence after a time.

The only event to arouse them from the lethargy into which they had fallen was a sudden movement on the part of Miss Abigail that unceremoniously dumped Hans off the seat to the ground, where he was fortunate enough to bounce like a rubber ball out of the way of the rear wheel.

"There!" the spinster was heard to mutter; "perhaps he'll stop squeezing up to me now. He's the most uncomfortable person I ever sat beside."

"s.h.i.+mminy Gristmas!" Hans gurgled, as he sat up beside the trail and stared at the stage, which had stopped almost immediately. "Vot dot vomans got mit her elpow in, ain'd id? Id vas a recular pattering rams!"

Ephraim Gallup laughed in his hearty manner.

"Darn my punkins! but yeou do look funny, Hans!" he cried. "Whut happened to ye, anyhaow?"

"You toldt me."

"Begobs! it's yersilf thot's a moighty foine ground tumbler," said Barney, with a chuckle.

"I dond't toldt you so!" returned the Dutch boy, with attempted sarcasm.

"Don't you pelief mineself!"

"Come, Hans," laughed Frank, who with Inza, had been watching the Dutch lad's efforts to make an impression on Miss Abigail. "Pick yourself up and get aboard. We can't wait all day for you."