Frank Merriwell's Triumph Part 14

To-night I am merely amusing myself. Five thousand on the red."

"Well, what do you think of that?" asked Hodge in Frank's ear.

"I think," said Frank, "that it is about time for Cap'n Wiley to cash in and stop playing."

He pushed his way through the throng and reached the sailor.

"Now is the time for you to stop," said Frank in Wiley's ear, speaking in a low tone, in order not to attract attention, for he knew such advice would not be relished by the proprietor and might get him into trouble.

"Never fear about me, mate," returned the sailor serenely. "Ere morning dawns I shall own this place. Talk about your gold mines! Why, this beats them all!"

"It's a wise man who knows when to stop," said Frank.

"It's a wise man who knows how to work a streak clean through to the finish," was the retort. "I have my luck with me to-night, and the world is mine. In the morning I shall build a fence around it."

"Red wins," quietly announced the croupier.

"You observe how easy it is, I presume," said Wiley, smiling. "I can't help it. It's as natural as breathing."

Frank saw that it was useless to argue with the sailor, and so he and Hodge left him still playing, while they strolled through the place.

There was a dance hall connected, which provided amus.e.m.e.nt for them a while, although neither danced. Barely half an hour pa.s.sed before Frank, who was somewhat anxious about Wiley, returned to note how Wiley was getting along.

Luck had turned, and Wiley was losing steadily. Still he continued to bet with the same harebrained carelessness, apparently perfectly confident that his bad luck could not keep up.

"He will go broke within twenty minutes if he sticks to it, Frank," said Hodge.

Merry nodded.

"That's right," he agreed; "but he won't listen to advice. If we attempt to get him away, we will simply kick up a disturbance and find ourselves in a peck of trouble. Even if he should cash in now and quit ahead of the game, he'd come back to it and lose all he's won. Therefore we may as well let him alone."

They did so, and Bart's prophecy came true. The sailor's reckless betting lowered his pile so that it seemed to melt like dew before the sun. Finally he seemed to resolve on a grand stroke, and he bet everything before him on the red.

The little ball clicked and whirred in the whirling wheel. The spectators seemed breathless as they watched for the result of that plunge. Slower and slower grew the revolutions of the wheel. The ball spun around on its rim like a cork on the water. At length it dropped.

"He wins!" panted an excited man.

"No--see!" exclaimed another.

The ball had bobbed out of its pocket and spun on again.

"Lost!" was the cry, as it finally settled and rested securely in a pocket.

Wiley swallowed down a lump in his throat as the man behind the table raked in the wager.

"Excuse me," said the sailor, rising. "I hope you will pardon me while I go drown myself. Can any one direct me to a tub of tanglefoot?"

As he left the table, knowing now that it would cause no disturbance, Frank grasped his arm and again advised him to leave the place.

"I admit to you," said Wiley, "that I was mistaken when I stated that I had a mash on Dame Fortune. I have discovered that it was her daughter, Miss Fortune. Leave me--leave me to my fate! I shall now attempt to lap up all the liquids in the place, and in the morning I'll have a large aching head."

Frank insisted, however, and his command led Wiley reluctantly to permit them to escort him from the place.

"I might read you a lecture on the evils of gambling, cap'n," said Merry; "but I shall not do so to-night. It strikes me that you have learned your lesson."

"It is only one of many such lessons," sighed the sailor. "By this time I should have them by heart, but somehow I seem to forget them. I wish to tell you a secret that I have held buried in my bosom these many years. It is this:

"Somewhere about my machinery there is a screw loose. In vain I have sought to find it. I know it is there just as well as I know that I am Cap'n Wiley. Now, you are a perfect piece of machinery, with everything tight, and firm, and well oiled, and polished. As an example you are the real thing. Perhaps to-morrow I may conclude to follow in your footsteps. Just tuck me in my little bed and leave me to dreamy slumber."

After being left in his room, however, Wiley did not remain long in bed.

Knowing they would not suspect such a thing of him, he arose, and dressed, and returned to the gambling house. When morning came he was not only broke, but he had p.a.w.ned everything of value in his possession and was practically dest.i.tute.

"Well," said Merry, having discovered the cap'n's condition, "I presume now you will return with us to the Mazatzals?"

"No use," was the answer; "I shall stay here in Prescott. I have my eye on a good thing. Don't worry about me."

It was useless to urge him, for he persisted in his determination to stay there. And so before leaving Frank made some final arrangements with him.

"I have wired for my mail to be forwarded here, Wiley," he said. "If anything of importance comes, anything marked to be delivered in haste, I wish you would see that it reaches me. Cannot you do so?"

"Depend upon me, Frank," a.s.sured the sailor. "I will not fail you in this. But before departing it seems to me that you should make arrangements that any such message be delivered into my hands."

"I will do so," said Merry. "Now, see here, cap'n, I don't like to leave you strapped in this town. At the same time, I don't care to let you have money of mine to gamble with. If I provide you with some loose change, will you give me your word not to use it in gambling?"

"Your generosity is almost ign.o.ble!" exclaimed Wiley. "However, I accept it in the same manner that it is tendered. I give you my word."

"Well, that goes with me," nodded Merry. "Before leaving I shall see that you are fixed with ready money."

CHAPTER VII.

A STARTLING TELEGRAM.

Sunset in the Enchanted Valley. Below the little waterfall which plunged down into the fissure at the southern end of the valley Frank and Bart had toiled hard all through the day. Their sleeves were rolled up and their clothes mud-bespattered. There they had worked in the sandy soil near the stream, and there they had found the s.h.i.+ning stuff for which they sought. Every panful was carefully washed in the stream, showing dull yellow grains in the bottom when the last particles remained.

Not far away, on the level of the valley above them, set near the stream, was their tent. In front of it little Abe was building a fire and was seeking to prepare supper for them, knowing they would be ravenously hungry when they quit work for the night. At intervals the cripple hobbled to the brink of the fissure and looked down at them as they toiled.

No one had troubled them since their return to the valley. No longer did the place seem enchanted or mysterious. All the mysteries were solved, and it lay sleeping and silent amid that vast mountainous solitude.

"Well, Bart," said Frank, as he dropped his spade, "it seems to me that the thing is done to our satisfaction. At the northern end of the valley we have found Clark's quartz claim, and the specimens we have taken from it seem decidedly promising. Here we have located this placer, and we know from what we have washed out that it is rich and will prove extremely valuable while it lasts. Now it's up to us to register our claims and open them for operation in the proper manner. We ought to be satisfied."

"Satisfied!" exclaimed Bart. "You bet I am satisfied! What if I had remained in Boston, Merry? Why, I would be plugging away to-day on a poor paying job, with decidedly poor prospects ahead of me. It was a most fortunate thing for me when I decided to stick by you and come West."

Frank smiled.

"It was lucky, Hodge," he agreed. "But I don't forget that you came without a selfish thought on your part. You came to help me in my fight against Milton Sukes. I am far better pleased for your sake than for my own that we have had this streak of luck. Let's knock off for the night, old man. There's no reason why we should stick to it longer."