A PLOT AGAINST FRANK.
Bart, of course, had no further objection to offer to Dade Morgan as a
member of the nine, and the work of choosing the players went on without
any other unpleasant incidents. When the final selections were made,
Frank was satisfied that the Yale team was competent to put up a good
game of ball and would more than hold its own against its Southern
rivals, and his judgment was confirmed on the field.
The date scheduled for the game at Charlottesville, Virginia, proved to
be a beautiful, mild day, early in April. It was near noon, and among
the crowd gathered to greet the players on the platform of the
railroad-station were two men strikingly unlike in appearance. One was
tall, raw-boned, sinewy; the other was of medium height, young, slender,
and flashily dressed. The taller of the two was rough, and plainly given
to dissipation. He was about forty years of age and a tough-looking
customer. The other was in his early twenties, but he had the face of a
youthful drinker, and there was about him an offensive air of conceit.
The elder man was Jack Cunningham, brother of Bill Cunningham, the
famous Blue Ridge moonshiner and outlaw. The younger was Roland Ditson,
once a student at Yale College.
Cunningham was listening to the guarded talk of his youthful companion.
He had reddish hair and beard. His trousers were tucked in the tops of
his boots, and he wore a woolen shirt that was open at the neck. His
build was that of a man possessing great strength and endurance.
“I reckon yo’ don’t love this Frank Merriwell much,” said Cunningham.
“I hate him,” replied Ditson, who was smoking a cigarette and nervously
handling his cane. The first two fingers of his right hand were stained
a sickly yellow.
“What makes yo’ hate him so ver’ much?” asked Cunningham.
“I can’t tell the whole story; it’s too long.”
“Did he steal a girl away from yo’ some time?”
“No. We were at college together. He’s still going to college. He set
himself up as a leader as soon as he entered.”
“An’ yo’ didn’t approve of that?”
“Well, I didn’t like it much. You can bet your life I did not bow before
him, same as most of the fellows came to do.”
“Bucked agin’ him, did yo’, boy?”
“Dicidedly.”
“An’ he slammed yo’ down hard?”
“Confound him! he always had a way of coming out on top. But I’ve got a
score to settle, and I’m going to settle it! He disgraced me before the
whole crowd one night, and I swore then that I’d find a way of getting
even before I died. Oh, I suppose I’ve got the best reason for hating
him that a fellow ever had! No matter just what it is; I don’t like to
talk about that. He did me dirt, and I’m going to get back at him.”
“Yo’ say he’s comin’ here?”
“Yes. He’s the pitcher on the Yale baseball-team, which plays Virginia
here this afternoon.”
“Well, what’s your game?”
“Virginia must win. I have learned that Merriwell will pitch here
to-day, for Yale means to take no chances.”
“Well?”
“Virginia can’t win with Merriwell pitching for Yale.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is impossible. The fellow is one of the most remarkable
twirlers who ever threw a ball. He has a curve that no batter can hit,
and I understand that he is in perfect form this season. Virginia has
not a ghost of a show with Merriwell pitching.”
Ditson puffed fiercely at the cigarette, blowing some of the smoke into
Cunningham’s face. The giant coughed and fanned it aside with his huge
paw.
“What in thunder any human being wants to smoke anything like that for
is mo’ than I can understand!” he blurted, in disgust. “The smell of it
would make a pig sick!”
“Excuse me,” said Ditson, who did not wish to offend the fellow.
“Why don’t yo’ be a man an’ smoke a pipe?” demanded the other. “Does
this Merriwell smoke them?”
“I believe he does not smoke at all. He’s one of the goody-good kind
that never does anything bad. Oh, he’s a most sickening and disgusting
fellow.”
“Kind of a mammy’s boy, eh?”
“In some ways, yes; but you do not want to make a mistake by getting to
think he’s weak, for he isn’t. He is one of the strongest men at
Yale—he’s an athlete.”
“Haw!” blurted Cunningham, with a gesture of contempt. “I judge I know
what that means. Them college athletes don’t amount to anything. The
best of them would be a child in my hands.”
“Now, don’t make the mistake of underrating college athletes,” Ditson
hastened to say. “Some of them are wonderfully strong and expert, and
this Merriwell is a leader among such men.”
“All right; have it that way if yo’ want to. I don’t care.”
“If Merriwell does not play with the Yale team Virginia will win, for
she has a good nine, and Virgil Paragon, her pitcher, is clever. I want
her to win the worst way. It will make Merriwell feel mean, for he’s
captain of the Yale team.”
“Well, how yo’ goin’ to do the trick?”
“That’s why I sent for you. That’s why I had you to come here with your
team.”
“Yo’ ain’t made it clear yet.”
“I want you to carry this Merriwell off.”
“Is that all?”
“Don’t you know some place about two or three miles outside of town
where you can take him and keep him till about six o’clock this
afternoon?”
“I judge I do. I could take him out to Ben Shannon’s place.”
“That’s all right.”
“But how’m I goin’ to get him to go, suh? I can’t jest openly nab him
right here befo’ everybody and carry him off without raisin’ a row.”
“I’ll fix that all right so he will go along with you without a word.
When you get him out there you must take care of him and see that he
doesn’t come back.”
“Oh, I can do that all right if I can get him to come along without
raising a fuss. But how’m I to get him to come along, suh?”
“I’ll explain. There is a girl stopping in this town, whom he knows. Her
name is Elsie Bellwood, and she is stopping out at the Parker
plantation. Merriwell is more or less smashed on her, and he always
stands ready to fly to her at her call.”
Cunningham rolled his quid of tobacco over his tongue, and winked at
Roland, as he observed:
“I begin to see yo’ game. I’m ter tell him she wants to see him, git him
inter my turnout, an’ whisk off.”
“Something like that, but I’ve prepared something that will make it dead
easy to fool him. I happened to get hold of some of her handwriting, and
I’ve written a note for you to give him. I’ve imitated her writing and
signed her name, and I think it will fool him. He won’t be looking out
for tricks, so it will be dead easy.”
“How much money did yo’ say there was in it?”
“Fifty dollars.”
“Cash in advance?”
“Twenty-five in advance; twenty-five afterward.”
“I’ll do it. Where’s the letter an’ the money?”
“Wait. I don’t want anybody to see me give you the letter or the money.
Let’s walk out here a piece where we’ll be alone.”
“All right.”
They made a strangely mated pair as they walked down the
station-platform and passed round behind the freight-building.
“Here is the letter,” said Roland, as he took a square envelope from his
pocket and passed it over to Cunningham.
On the envelope was written: “Mr. Frank Merriwell, kindness of Mr.
Muldoon.”
“Who’s Mr. Muldoon?” demanded Cunningham.
“You’re Mr. Muldoon,” explained Ditson, with a crafty smile. “That’s so
he will not get onto your real name at once. He’s posted, and he may
have heard of you, or your brother. Best not to wake up his suspicions
too quick.”
“S’pose that’s right,” nodded the giant, as he thrust the letter into
his pocket. “Seems to me I’ve heard of a strong man by the name of
Muldoon.”
“There is such a man—William Muldoon, and he’s a wonder.”
“Then I’m his brother, an’ I can throw Willie four times out of five,
with one hand tied behind me. Mr. Frank Merriwell will think so when I
lay fingers on him.”
Again Roland warned the confident ruffian not to underestimate
Merriwell’s prowess.
“If you do, he’ll surprise you, just as true as you live. He is a
wonder.”
“That’s all right,” grinned Cunningham. “I know all about them kind of
wonders. Where’s yoah money, suh?”
Ditson produced a roll of bills, the sight of which caused the eyes of
the rascal to glitter and his fingers to twitch. In that moment it is
likely he was tempted to snatch the whole amount, run for it, and let
Frank Merriwell go his way.
“Here’s twenty-five,” said Roland, stripping off two tens and a five and
handing them over. “I’ll give you the rest to-night after you have done
the job. When the train comes in all you have to do is go right in among
the Yale men and ask for Merriwell. They’ll point him out to you. Give
him the letter and get him into your wagon as soon as you can. After
that it’s for you to make sure he doesn’t show up again till after the
ball-game is over.”
The train whistled in the distance.
“There she comes!” exclaimed Cunningham.
“Yes, there she comes!” palpitated Ditson. “Get back to the platform and
be ready for your work. Don’t make a fizzle of it.”
“There ain’t the least danger of that, suh,” confidently declared
Cunningham, as he strode away.