Frank Merriwell's Alarm Part 46

The girl laughed sharply, plainly enjoying his embarra.s.sment. She shook hands with all but Toots, saying:

"Mr. Merriwell doesn't seem to be at his best. It is possible he has ridden too far to-day."

Then Frank pulled himself together, and immediately became as cool and collected as usual, which was no easy thing to do.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Isban, but I was just thinking I had not ridden far enough."

He said it in his most suave manner, but the shot went home, and it brought still more color to her flushed cheeks.

"Oh!" she cried, with the same toss of her head, "if your wheel is not broken, it is not too late to make several more miles before absolute darkness comes on."

Diamond edged up to Frank, and whispered:

"Careful, Merry! You're getting her very angry, and she is a mighty fine girl. Go easy, old man!"

This was very amusing to Merriwell, for but a short time before Diamond had expressed himself quite freely in regard to the girl, and it was plain his ideas had undergone a change since seeing her.

"Don't worry," Frank returned. "She won't mind a little sc.r.a.p. I think she will enjoy it. She is that kind."

This did not seem to satisfy the young Virginian, who immediately set about making himself as agreeable as possible with Isa.

The boys were invited to sit down, and seats were provided for all of them.

Frank became rather serious, for thoughts of Hodge's misfortune began to trouble him, and he remembered that this girl was responsible for it all.

Isa did not look a day older than when he had last seen her, and it was hard to realize that she was a woman with an experience and a dead husband.

Browning was silent and apparently contented. He seemed to take great satisfaction in sitting down and resting.

After a little silence, Isa observed, seeming to take a malicious satisfaction in what she said:

"One of Mr. Merriwell's friends had not forgotten me, at least."

"It might have been better for him if he had," returned Frank, in a manner that surprised himself, for never before had he made such an ungallant remark.

The girl's eyes blazed and she bit her lip. It seemed that she was on the point of an outburst, but she restrained herself and laughed. That laugh was defiant and angry.

"Oh, well, I don't know!" she said. "The person I speak of may find I will stand by him better than some of his friends who would have looked on while he was dragged away to jail."

This was a surprise to Frank, for it showed that the girl knew something about the adventure with Bill Higgins, which had taken place that day.

"So you have seen him since?" asked Merry, eagerly. "Where is he?"

"Find out."

"I shall be able to find out in time, I think, Miss Isban."

"As far as he is concerned, you need not worry, for I do not think he cares to see you again."

"I do not believe that. He knows me too well, and he trusts me."

"He thought he knew you, but he did not fancy you would remain pa.s.sive and see him placed under arrest."

"I did not."

"What did you do?"

"I did not have an opportunity to do much except save his life."

"Save his life?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I kept him from being bored by a bullet from Bill Higgins' gun."

"How did you do so much?"

"I spoiled Higgins' aim."

"Well, that was most remarkable! I presume you expect him to show the utmost grat.i.tude for a service that any man might render another!"

She snapped her fingers toward Frank, laughing scornfully:

"That's where you fool yourself. Mr. Hodge has told me that he hoped he might never meet you again. He has found other and better friends."

"Perhaps you speak the truth."

The manner in which Frank uttered the words implied not only a doubt but a positive belief that she was not speaking the truth and she did not misunderstand them. Her teeth clicked together, gleaming beyond her curved, red lips, and her hands were clinched. On her white fingers were a number of rings, set with diamonds, which flashed and blazed like her eyes.

"I care not whether you think I speak the truth or not," she said, and turned her back upon him.

Diamond evinced positive distress.

"I can't understand you, Merriwell!" he said, in an aside. "It is not at all like you. Why, you are always gallant and courteous to ladies."

"That is right," agreed Frank, with deep meaning. "I am."

Jack did not like that.

"And you mean to insinuate that this beautiful girl is not a lady?"

"I have my doubts."

"Still it seems to me that you have made a bad break in your treatment of her. You were very rude. That is not the way to treat a young lady."

"It is not the way to treat the most of them; but, my dear fellow, you will have to learn that they differ as much as men. If you were to treat all men with the utmost courtesy and consideration, you would find that not a few would regard you as a weak-kneed slob. They would impose on you, and their opinion of you would sink lower and lower as you permitted them to continue their impositions without giving back as good as they sent. In this respect, there is a cla.s.s of women who resemble men. Of course you cannot handle them as you would men, but you can't be soft with them. A man who insulted you you would knock down. You can't strike a woman, but you can strike her in a different way, and, in nine cases out of ten, if she is of a certain sort, she will think all the more of you in the end."