THE FALSE CONFESSION.
“What is it?”
“Your handkerchief.”
“Where did you get it?”
“I found it. See, here are your initials on the corner. I have been to
the laundry where you take your linen, and there I compared this with
one of your handkerchiefs in the place. It is your mark, and you cannot
dispute it.”
“Well, let me up. What if I do not dispute it? What about that?”
“It proves beyond a doubt that you threw the stone at Merriwell with
deadly intent, for I found it on the spot where you stood when you did
the trick, just behind the bushes on that high ridge beside the road.”
Something like a mumbled curse came from Bertrand’s lips.
“Let me up,” he begged.
“Will you confess?”
“How can I confess down here this way? Let me up.”
“All right, but you must sit down beside the table here and sign a
written confession. If you try any tricks, I shall prick you a little
with this sticker. If you know much about me, you realize now that I
mean business and I’ll make good every threat. If you were harmed and
made charges against me I should swear that you attacked me with
murderous intent after I came here and accused you, and that I did the
trick in self-defense. Even if you were able to swear to the contrary,
which is not likely after I jabbed you with this dainty tool, my word
would be as good as yours. Now, get up—and sit down there!”
Hodge stood with the weapon held ready for instant use, and Defarge,
like a whipped child, meekly obeyed.
“That’s right,” nodded the victor, with satisfaction. “Now, don’t dare
to wriggle, for if you try to get hold of that sticker over in the
corner I’ll be on top of you like a catamount, and I’ll finish the job
instanter.”
Then Bart stepped over to a desk, still keeping nearer than Defarge to
the weapon in the distant corner, and brought over an ink-well and
writing-materials.
“What do you think you can make me do?” asked Defarge, with a sneer.
“You are going to write out and sign a confession.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you must. Now I know the whole business, and you can’t deceive
me by making any false statements. I know who was behind you in what you
did—who got you to do the trick.”
Defarge was silent, filled with surprise.
“Don’t try to shield that snake,” urged Bart. “It will be better for you
if you do not. You may claim that he hypnotized you, or anything you
like, but you must confess that he was behind you in what you did.”
“Who?” asked Bertrand.
“Why, Morgan, of course! Didn’t he suggest this piece of business? Own
up!”
The French youth caught his breath and then said:
“Yes!”
“I knew it!” cried Bart exultantly. “I saw him speak to you in the cage!
I knew something was up then.”
A sudden idea had taken possession of Defarge. He felt that he was
caught in the net, and he would not go down without pulling Morgan with
him. He had gradually learned to dislike Dade almost as much as he did
Frank Merriwell. Of late it had been impossible for him to interest Dade
in his crooked schemes and tricks, which had brought about the strong
dislike he now harbored.
“But you don’t know the kind of fellow Morgan is,” declared Defarge.
“Oh, those eyes of his! They have such an influence over me!”
“His uncle was a hypnotist!”
“He must have hypnotized me, for I made a pledge that I’d never lift my
hand against Merriwell again, yet, when he ordered me to do so, I could
not refuse.”
Bart’s heart was throbbing wildly.
“It’s just as I thought!” he declared, feeling almost friendly toward
Defarge for this statement. “But there’s only one way for me to prove it
against him.”
“I can’t make a charge against him—I can’t!”
“You must!”
“If he is present, it will be impossible. He’ll throw his power over me,
and I’ll be helpless to tell the truth.”
“You shall do it here and now!”
“Please don’t make me do that! It will ruin me! I shall be expelled from
college, and all on account of Morgan! Think of that! I could not help
doing what he told me to do. If he were not here I’d never think of
harming Merriwell. I know I did try to do so long ago, but he was
generous to me, and I vowed never to lift my hand against him again.”
Hodge was silent a moment, and then he said:
“Merriwell is always generous, you know. I might kick you both out of
Yale, having such a chance; but I think he will be easy with you. What I
want is for him to refuse to take that dog Morgan onto the nine, and
Morgan will make it unless Merriwell objects. With your confession, I
can convince Merriwell of the whelp’s perfidy, and Morgan will be
dropped immediately.”
This was a very simple matter, and Defarge had feared Bart would use the
confession to cause both of them to leave college. If this was the only
thing Hodge wanted the confession for, he should have it in short order.
Inwardly, the French youth was chucking with satisfaction.
“I told the fellow his head would come off before the Easter trip!” he
mentally chuckled. “Now, he’ll find out!”
Aloud he said:
“If you will promise me to show the confession to no one but Merriwell
I’ll give it to you; but you must tell him I could not help doing just
what Morgan commanded. Ask him to be easy with me. It will ruin me if I
have to leave college before I finish my course.”
“I’ll do it,” agreed Bart, readily enough, delighted to get the
accusation against Morgan on such terms.
Defarge pretended to hesitate, but Hodge forced him on, and he took up
the pen and wrote as Bart dictated, now and then making a suggestion. He
stated that Morgan possessed some sort of hypnotic power, and this power
Dade had exercised to compel Bertrand to obey his commands. He had
commanded the French youth to hide beside the road and hurl the stone
down at Frank as Merry came along. Bertrand had begged Morgan not to
compel him to do that, but Dade had remained unyielding. Thus it came
about that Defarge did the trick against his own will, and he was very,
very sorry for it and profoundly thankful that Merriwell had not been
harmed.
“Now sign it!” cried Bart exultantly. “We’ll see if Merriwell will have
any compassion on that whelp after this.”
“What will Morgan do?” whispered Defarge, seeming to hesitate, with the
pen uplifted.
“No matter what he does!”
“But you do not think of me! He will be furious! I dare not sign it!”
He was playing his part very well.
“By Heaven! you must sign!” roared Bart.
“But Morgan’s power over me—what revenge will he take? He will be sure
to seek revenge on me!”
Under other circumstances, Bart might have seen that Defarge was
overdoing the terrified act.
But Bart was blinded by his own hatred of Morgan and his desire to get
this signed confession which must convince Merriwell of Dade’s dastardy.
“Sign it!” he cried, “and I’ll protect you from Morgan! Perhaps Morgan
will never know how it came about.”
“He must not know—he must not!” panted the other. “You cannot help me if
he finds it out. He will put me under his influence and command me to
commit suicide, perhaps! Promise me that you will make Merriwell agree
not to let Morgan know I revealed the truth about him.”
After a little hesitation, Bart said:
“I’ll do what I can. Go ahead and sign. You must throw yourself on
Merriwell’s generosity, and I know you will not do so in vain.”
Then Defarge signed the lying confession, which Bart soon folded and
placed in his pocket.
“That’s all, Mr. Defarge,” said Hodge, as he rose to his feet and walked
to the door, taking out the key. “I have obtained just what I came for,
though I must say you gave me quite a lively little time before I got
it.”
He inserted the key and threw back the bolt of the lock.
“Good night,” he said.
Then he opened the door, flung down the rapier, and went out.
Alone in his room, Defarge laughed softly with satisfaction.
“You are welcome to all you got,” he said. "Now, Mr. Dade Morgan, you’ll
find that I told you the truth when I said your head would come off, and
perhaps you’ll learn to hate Merriwell again as intensely as you did not
long ago. We’ll see if he will make a friend of you, as he has of so
many others who began by hating him.
“Bah, Bart Hodge! you thought you had forced an unwilling confession
from me; but, instead of that, you played right into my hands. I owe you
something for helping me along with my little schemes. Why, I have
really enjoyed this call from you!”
And he laughed again, softly, with a hissing sound through his white
teeth.