Frank Merriwell's Races - BestLightNovel.com
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He had been on hand, ready to strip off in a moment, and had seen Collingwood talking earnestly with Merriwell. Then, to his inexpressible astonishment, he had been told that Merriwell would row after all.
From that moment Flemming hoped and prayed that Yale would lose the race. He would have given almost anything in his power to give had Frank Merriwell been unable to row to the finish.
But Merriwell had finished the race, and Yale had won. Flemming's friends, who had bet that he would row in the race, had lost money, and they were sore also.
It was bitter gall for Flemming and Tom Thornton to pretend to rejoice over Yale's victory, but they dared not do otherwise. It happened that they waited till the special train left for New Haven, and they were on that train and in the car which carried the victorious crew.
Occasionally they cheered with the others, to keep up appearances; but, for the most part, they remained seated in a corner at one end of the car and talked in low tones.
"How was it that Collingwood happened to retain the fellow for all of his hand?" asked Thornton, referring to Merriwell.
"Ask me something easy!" exclaimed Flemming. "I am sure he intended to fire the fellow, but I think Merriwell begged to be given a show, and Collingwood did not have the nerve to chuck him off."
"Collingwood must be soft!"
"Oh, I don't know. I think that cad Merriwell must be a hypnotist by the way he gets around some fellows."
"I don't want to have anything further to do with him."
"Oh, you've lost your nerve since Merriwell and Griswold put up that girl job on you, and Diamond drew you into a bogus duel."
"That was enough to make any fellow lose his nerve."
"Rats!"
"You may say 'rats,' but you don't know how you would have felt if you had been in my place. Just as the word was given to fire and I pulled trigger, Griswold, dressed as a girl, rushed between us. I fired, and, with a frightful shriek, he fell. Then I ran forward and looked at him.
The moonlight made him look deathly white, and I felt sure I had shot him. I'll never forget the sickening sensation that came over me at that moment! The hangman's noose seemed to dangle before my eyes. I dropped the pistol and rushed away to my room. I think I was stunned, for Horner found me sitting on a chair and staring blankly at the wall about an hour afterward. Then he said the girl had not been shot at all, but had fainted. Say, Flem, my boy, it is utterly impossible for me to tell the feeling of thankfulness and relief that rushed over me. I felt just like getting right down on my knees and thanking Providence, but I didn't, for Tad Horner was watching me all the time, and I saw the laughing devil in his eyes. Then, within two days, I found myself the guy of the whole college, and, finally, it all came out that 'Grace Darling' was Danny Griswold in his theatrical rig, and I had been played for a blooming guy by Merriwell and Diamond, a.s.sisted to a certain extent by Horner, my own roommate."
"And the only decent thing you ever did about it was to quit Horner cold. You've never seemed to have sand enough to make an effort to get back at Merriwell."
"I decided that Merriwell is a bad man to monkey with."
"That's rot! It's his reputation that frightens you. I'm going to watch my chance to get even with him."
"So am I, young man!" whispered a voice in Flemming's ear.
Fred whirled swiftly, and saw close at his shoulder a rather rough-appearing, smooth-faced man, who wore a wide-brimmed hat, and was weather-tanned, as if by much exposure.
"Eh?" exclaimed the college lad. "Who are you?"
"One who has a good reason to dislike that fly chap, Mr. Frank Merriwell," was his answer.
Flemming was suspicious.
"Why should you hate Merriwell?" he asked.
"Because he kicked me," was the fierce reply.
"He kicked you? Then you are the man he fired out of the boathouse? I heard about that little affair."
"I am the man."
"You should have known better than to try to bribe Merriwell to throw any sort of game or race to Harvard. That chap is so honest that he has wings sprouting under his clothes. He said you pushed a thousand dollars at him?"
"I did--I put it into his hand."
"And he flung it into your face?"
"Yes, curse him! Then he threw me out of the window!"
"Well, you do seem to have a reason for disliking him. What would you do to him if you got a good chance?"
"Ask me what I wouldn't do! All I want is the chance!"
"Can you keep your mouth closed?"
"You bet your dust! I never peach!"
"Then you may be just the kind of a man I am looking for. I want somebody with nerve. The trouble with the fellows in college who hate Merriwell is that they do not dare b.u.t.t up against him. They are afraid of him."
"Well, I'm not afraid of any man living, let alone a mere boy. He's nothing but a tenderfoot! Waugh!"
"Hear them shouting over him!" muttered Thornton. "See! They have lifted him on their shoulders! One would think he alone won the race to-day!"
Then Frank was heard to make the brief speech which elicited such hearty applause.
"It is sickening!" growled Flemming, pale with jealous rage.
"It is," nodded the stranger. "It makes me want to give him back the kick he gave me!"
"If you stick to me, I promise you that you shall have a good opportunity," said Flemming.
"You may bet your rocks that I'll tie to you, pard," a.s.sured the unknown. "I'll help you to get square, and you can help me. Frank Merriwell will have to keep his eyes open if he dodges us both."
CHAPTER XXII.
THE FIGHT ON THE TRAIN.
It happened that, as he was perched on the shoulders of his friends and admirers, Frank Merriwell saw Flemming and Thornton in the further end of the car.
Merriwell would not have given his enemies more than a pa.s.sing glance, but it occurred that he saw and recognized the man who was talking to Flemming.
"It is the scoundrel who tried to bribe me!" muttered Frank, angrily.
"And he is with Flemming and Thornton! I fancy I smell a mouse."