------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note:
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_.
Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.
BOOKS FOR YOUNG MEN
=MERRIWELL SERIES=
Stories of Frank and Dick Merriwell
=PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS=
_=Fascinating Stories of Athletics=_
A half million enthusiastic followers of the Merriwell brothers will
attest the unfailing interest and wholesomeness of these adventures of
two lads of high ideals, who play fair with themselves, as well as with
the rest of the world.
These stories are rich in fun and thrills in all branches of sports and
athletics. They are extremely high in moral tone, and cannot fail to be
of immense benefit to every boy who reads them.
They have the splendid quality of firing a boy’s ambition to become a
good athlete, in order that he may develop into a strong, vigorous
right-thinking man.
_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_
1—Frank Merriwell’s School Days By Burt L. Standish
2—Frank Merriwell’s Chums By Burt L. Standish
3—Frank Merriwell’s Foes By Burt L. Standish
4—Frank Merriwell’s Trip West By Burt L. Standish
5—Frank Merriwell Down South By Burt L. Standish
6—Frank Merriwell’s Bravery By Burt L. Standish
7—Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Tour By Burt L. Standish
8—Frank Merriwell in Europe By Burt L. Standish
9—Frank Merriwell at Yale By Burt L. Standish
10—Frank Merriwell’s Sports Afield By Burt L. Standish
11—Frank Merriwell’s Races By Burt L. Standish
12—Frank Merriwell’s Party By Burt L. Standish
13—Frank Merriwell’s Bicycle Tour By Burt L. Standish
14—Frank Merriwell’s Courage By Burt L. Standish
15—Frank Merriwell’s Daring By Burt L. Standish
16—Frank Merriwell’s Alarm By Burt L. Standish
17—Frank Merriwell’s Athletes By Burt L. Standish
18—Frank Merriwell’s Skill By Burt L. Standish
19—Frank Merriwell’s Champions By Burt L. Standish
20—Frank Merriwell’s Return to Yale By Burt L. Standish
21—Frank Merriwell’s Secret By Burt L. Standish
22—Frank Merriwell’s Danger By Burt L. Standish
23—Frank Merriwell’s Loyalty By Burt L. Standish
24—Frank Merriwell in Camp By Burt L. Standish
25—Frank Merriwell’s Vacation By Burt L. Standish
26—Frank Merriwell’s Cruise By Burt L. Standish
27—Frank Merriwell’s Chase By Burt L. Standish
28—Frank Merriwell in Maine By Burt L. Standish
29—Frank Merriwell’s Struggle By Burt L. Standish
30—Frank Merriwell’s First Job By Burt L. Standish
31—Frank Merriwell’s Opportunity By Burt L. Standish
32—Frank Merriwell’s Hard Luck By Burt L. Standish
33—Frank Merriwell’s Protégé By Burt L. Standish
34—Frank Merriwell on the Road By Burt L. Standish
35—Frank Merriwell’s Own Company By Burt L. Standish
36—Frank Merriwell’s Fame By Burt L. Standish
37—Frank Merriwell’s College Chums By Burt L. Standish
38—Frank Merriwell’s Problem By Burt L. Standish
39—Frank Merriwell’s Fortune By Burt L. Standish
40—Frank Merriwell’s New Comedian By Burt L. Standish
41—Frank Merriwell’s Prosperity By Burt L. Standish
42—Frank Merriwell’s Stage Hit By Burt L. Standish
43—Frank Merriwell’s Great Scheme By Burt L. Standish
44—Frank Merriwell in England By Burt L. Standish
45—Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards By Burt L. Standish
46—Frank Merriwell’s Duel By Burt L. Standish
47—Frank Merriwell’s Double Shot By Burt L. Standish
48—Frank Merriwell’s Baseball Victories By Burt L. Standish
49—Frank Merriwell’s Confidence By Burt L. Standish
50—Frank Merriwell’s Auto By Burt L. Standish
51—Frank Merriwell’s Fun By Burt L. Standish
52—Frank Merriwell’s Generosity By Burt L. Standish
53—Frank Merriwell’s Tricks By Burt L. Standish
54—Frank Merriwell’s Temptation By Burt L. Standish
55—Frank Merriwell on Top By Burt L. Standish
56—Frank Merriwell’s Luck By Burt L. Standish
57—Frank Merriwell’s Mascot By Burt L. Standish
58—Frank Merriwell’s Reward By Burt L. Standish
59—Frank Merriwell’s Phantom By Burt L. Standish
60—Frank Merriwell’s Faith By Burt L. Standish
61—Frank Merriwell’s Victories By Burt L. Standish
62—Frank Merriwell’s Iron Nerve By Burt L. Standish
63—Frank Merriwell in Kentucky By Burt L. Standish
64—Frank Merriwell’s Power By Burt L. Standish
65—Frank Merriwell’s Shrewdness By Burt L. Standish
In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the books
listed below will be issued during the respective months in New York
City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance
promptly, on account of delays in transportation.
To Be Published in July, 1923.
66—Frank Merriwell’s Set Back By Burt L. Standish
67—Frank Merriwell’s Search By Burt L. Standish
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Frank Merriwell’s False Friend
OR,
An Investment in Human Nature
BY
BURT L. STANDISH
Author of the famous MERRIWELL STORIES.
[Illustration]
STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
PUBLISHERS
79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York
Copyright, 1901
By STREET & SMITH
-------
Frank Merriwell’s False Friend
(Printed in the United States of America)
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian.
FRANK MERRIWELL’S FALSE
FRIEND.
---
CHAPTER I.
ANXIETY AT YALE.
Yale was in perplexity and distress.
Where was Merriwell?
That question created all the trouble. He had obtained permission to
leave a few days on important business, but the “few days” had
lengthened into many and still he remained away.
He was needed at Yale, for he had been chosen captain of the
baseball-team, and the men were in training for the Easter trip to the
South. His absence and the uncertainty of his return seemed to have a
most baleful influence upon them, for they failed to turn out with
enthusiasm for work in the cage, and they plainly lacked the needed
spirit that year after year has led Yale gladiators to stand ready to
sacrifice anything and everything, but honor, for the glory of Old Eli.
The coaches were in despair, for never before had they handled such
indifferent material. It seemed impossible to find the usual number of
new men who took an interest in baseball, and were willing to work with
vim and enthusiasm.
The outlook was discouraging. Experienced men shook their heads and
looked blue. Was this a relapse after their great victory over Harvard
on the gridiron the previous fall?
Among all the new men in the squad only one showed up enough to create
general comment, and that one was the black-haired freshman, Dade
Morgan.
Having resolved to try for a place on the nine, it was not remarkable
that Morgan should attract attention, for at everything he had attempted
since entering college he had made himself a marked man. He was a fellow
who went at any task with a determination and intensity that would have
advanced a poorer subject. Being an athlete, supple, strong, quick,
sure-eyed, and confident, it was not singular that he made rapid
advancement. It would have been far more singular if he had not.
Morgan had played baseball before coming to college. In fact, he had
once captained a very clever amateur team at a summer resort. He was one
of those surprisingly versatile fellows who could fill any position. It
is a well-known fact that much of the success of a ball-team depends on
putting the players into the positions for which they are best adapted,
and that it is not often a good first-baseman does equally well on
second or third, while a remarkable outfielder may be utterly worthless
in the diamond, or vice versa. But Dade could handle grounders, catch
flies, cover a base, play behind the bat, even pitch with a certain
amount of skill that did not seem lessened in any position.
But it was his ambition to pitch, and for that he began to train as soon
as the squad got to work.
There were a number of new candidates for the position, but the coaches
confessed to themselves that Morgan was the only highly promising man in
the lot.
Frank Merriwell, however, had been depended on as the mainstay in the
pitching department of the team.
Of course, Bart Hodge would fill his old position behind the bat, and
there were one or two promising men who might serve as substitutes in
case any accident happened to him.
But Bart did not go about the work with his usual spirit. In fact, it
was hard to get him genuinely interested, and, somehow, he seemed sad
and restless, appearing at times to be brooding over something. To the
surprise of everybody he did not say much about Merry’s absence, save
that he had not heard from Frank and did not know why he was remaining
away so long.
The anxiety and restlessness caused by Frank’s unaccountable failure to
return spread to the professors, who began to inquire about him day
after day.
Merriwell’s enemies had been keeping pretty quiet, for they realized
that it would not be best to say too much at first, as he was the pride
of the college, and slurs against him would not be tolerated.
Honest men who had once been his enemies were silent now, or his
pronounced friends. In fact, it seemed that no open enemies were to be
found.
But the petty spite and meanness of the Chickering set was simply held
in restraint. Although they were not particularly brilliant, they knew
enough to realize that it would not be healthy to express themselves too
freely in public.
As time went on and it began to seem that Merriwell might not return to
college, these creatures grew bolder. At first they dared not speak
outright, but they hinted and slurred and sneered. Without saying why at
first, they suggested that there had been “a very good reason” for
Merriwell’s sudden departure, and that it was not at all likely he would
ever again be seen at Yale.
Thus it came about that one sunny afternoon these fellows were gathered
at the fence along with other students, who were discussing the baseball
situation.
“I tell you what,” said Lib Benson, “I’m afraid we’re going to get it in
the neck all round this spring. It’s a dead sure thing that the men are
not taking hold with the usual spirit, and I have it straight that the
coaches are disgusted with the material for a nine.”
“Oh, that’s always the way,” declared Irving Nash. “It’s the same old
cry that’s heard every year.”
“Not a bit of it,” put in Gene Skelding, who had blossomed out with a
handsome new pink shirt, of which he was very proud. “Yale seldom has
much to say, though the newspapers may be full of rot about the nine, or
the crew, or something or other. This year it is different. We’ve tried
to keep the truth from getting into the papers, but it’s out just the
same.”
“What maketh me thick,” lisped Lew Veazie, “ith thith thilly talk about
all the twoble coming fwom the abthence of that fellow Fwank Merriwell.
It ith vewy tirethome!”
“That’s so, chummie,” agreed Ollie Lord, standing as high as possible on
the high heels of his polished shoes. “As if he could make any
difference if he were here!”
“He’s usually made a difference in the past,” said Nash instantly. “He
has a way of stirring things up.”
“That’s right,” agreed Lib Benson. “I wonder where he can be and what is
keeping him away. He’ll fail in his exams sure as fate if he stays away
much longer. Even now I’m afraid he’ll have to grind so hard that he
won’t have much time for baseball, or anything else.”
“Talking about Merriwell?” grunted Browning, loafing up and leaning
lazily against the fence. “Don’t worry about his failing. You never knew
him to fail in anything.”
“Not even in waking you up and getting you onto the eleven last fall,”
laughed Hock Mason. “Why aren’t you in the baseball squad, Browning? You
played with Merriwell’s ball-team last summer.”
“And got enough of it, too. It’s altogether too much like work, Old
South Carolina; that’s why I’m not sweating in the cage every day.”
“If Merriwell were to show up now, he’d be pretty sure to drag you out
in a hurry.”
“Never! There are plenty of others. I refuse to be sacrificed again for
the public good.”
“What is this rumor I’ve been hearing lately?” broke in Julian Ives,
thrusting his cap back and patting down his pet bang. “It can’t be true
that Merriwell got out because he knew he must fail at exams this
spring. He has wasted his time, it is said, in athletics and such folly,
till now he is face to face with failure in his studies, and he can’t
stand that. Rather than to be set back a year he has taken himself out
of the way, and he’ll not be seen here again.”
“And I brand that as a malicious lie!” rang out a clear voice.
It was Bart Hodge, who had approached in time to hear Ives’ words. There
was a black look of anger on Bart’s face, and his flashing eyes glared
with scorn and contempt at Julian.
“There is a very good reason for Merriwell’s absence,” declared Hodge.
“Starbright saw him in New York and said he would surely be here in a
day or two.”
“But Starbright did not tell what was keeping him away, you know,”
gently said Rupert Chickering. “I have nothing against Merriwell, and I
sincerely hope the rumors about him are not true, but I have begun to
entertain fears.”
“Bah!” exclaimed Hodge, giving Rupert a look of intense scorn. “Why do
you still play the hypocrite, Chickering? Everybody knows you. Everybody
knows you hate Merriwell and would do anything in your power to injure
him.”
Chickering held up his hands, his face expressing denial, resentment,
and martyrlike anguish.
“You are very unjust!” he exclaimed. “But as you are a fellow of violent
passions, I will forgive you and try to forget your unjust judgment of
me. Still, I advise you to remember the Biblical injunction, ‘Judge not
that ye be not judged.’”
“Oh, you make me sick!” was Hodge’s rather unoriginal retort. “You are
the most sickening thing of your whole sickening crowd. You disguise
your hatred under pretense of generosity, even of friendliness—that is,
you try to disguise it. But every one is onto you, and it is well known
that you are trying to stab a man in the back when you say a pretendedly
kind thing about him. That brands you as a snake in the grass,
Chickering! This is plain talk, but I’ve been waiting for just this
opportunity to make it, and if you or any of your friends wish to pick
it up now or any other time, you all know where to find me.”
Rupert heaved a deep sigh.
“It is hard to be thus misjudged,” he said sadly; “but still I must
forgive you. I don’t suppose I can blame you, for you must be worried
into a dreadful state of mind over Merriwell’s failure.”
“Merriwell never made a failure in his life, and he will not begin.”
“Plainly,” said Chickering, with resignation, “it is useless for me to
tell what I have heard and know. I would not tell it, anyhow, but it
must come out in time. I am sorry for you, Hodge, as I know you think a
great deal of Merriwell; but even you would not like to see him flunk in
his last year.”
“More of your dirty insinuations, put in your own nasty way!” flashed
Bart.
Ives and Skelding had their heads together and were glaring at Bart,
while they mumbled to each other in low tones. Now Gene took a step
forward and grasped Chickering’s arm, hoarsely exclaiming:
“Don’t talk to the fellow, Rupert! He knows you or your friends do not
care to fight him here, and that’s why he is making all this blow. He’s
doing it for a bluff and to obtain notoriety.”
The fire that came into Bart’s eyes made even Skelding start back a bit.
But Hodge held himself in check enough so that his voice did not get
higher than an ordinary tone. However, it seemed so intense that every
hearer was thrilled, and not a word was missed by those on the outskirts
of the gathering.
“You, Skelding, are not a hypocrite, but you are a malicious liar, and
you know it! I have said that I’ll fight anywhere, and that stands good
for you. I never make bluffs that I cannot back up. You do. But now and
here I give you fair warning to keep your mouth shut about Merriwell. If
you make any further talk about him, I promise to meet you where we
cannot be interrupted and give you the worst thrashing you ever had in
your life!”
Gene laughed and snapped his fingers.
“If I have anything I wish to say you may be sure I shall say it, for
all of your threat,” he declared; “but I do not consider the fellow
worth discussing.”
“It’s a good thing for you that you do not!”
Skelding and Ives took to mumbling to each other again, and Jim Hooker
asked Bart:
“Then you are dead certain Merriwell is coming back? Nothing has
happened to cause him to fail to return?”
“I know he’ll be here,” was the declaration, “else he would have
communicated with his friends. Something has happened to keep him away
longer than he intended to stay, but he’ll show up before long, and I’ll
bet my life on it.”
“There he is!” shrieked a voice. “Look, fellows—he’s coming now!
Hooray!”