MYSTERIOUS MOVES.
The manner of the outcast seemed changed with his clothes. Up to the
time that he entered the Jew’s shop he had not seemed suspicious, but
now he had a strange, skulking air, and he sometimes paused and looked
round, as if fearing that he was being watched. Fortunately, on every
occasion that Hooker looked back Frank and Bart were able to avoid
being seen and recognized; but this apparent suspicion on the part of
the one they were following caused Merry’s confidence in him to take
another slump.
More and more was Frank impressed with the Jekyll-and-Hyde idea.
Somehow, Hooker seemed completely transformed. Before the change there
had been a kind of desperate independence in his manner, as if he felt
himself as good as anybody, no matter what the world might think of
him, but now he skulked and sneaked along the streets, and seemed to
avoid the gaze of those who would have looked into his face.
“He couldn’t do anything better to draw suspicion upon himself, if he
is up to crooked work,” thought Frank.
The quarter of the city which they now came to was the very lowest
along the water-front. The buildings were old and dirty, and saloons
were frequent. Wretched men and women were afloat on the streets, and
sailors were seen frequently.
“This would be a fine locality for a man to be murdered in!” muttered
Bart.
“But it doesn’t seem to me,” said Merry, “that it is just the quarter
of the city in which a footpad would seek his prey.”
“Oh, I don’t know. There are apt to be more desperate characters here
than elsewhere.”
“And for that very reason respectable persons whom it would pay to
hold up and rob will keep away from here.”
“This is where sailors get drunk in the dives and are kicked out upon
the street. They must be easy victims. A man could go through their
clothes without much danger.”
“But they are not likely to have much money after they are kicked out
upon the street.”
Hodge knew this was true. He realized that the seafaring man would be
used well in a low dive till his money was gone, and then be kicked
out.
“Still,” he said, “some of them must escape with money on their
persons. Many times they are drunk enough to lie down almost anywhere
and go to sleep. A sneak-thief can go through them while they are
sleeping without――――By Jove! see that! What did I tell you?”
In a dark doorway a drunken man was curled up fast asleep. Hooker was
seen to halt suddenly and look sharply at the man. Then he approached
the inebriate.
Frank Merriwell’s heart fluttered. What was he about to witness? In a
twinkling his fancy pictured Hooker, a student of Yale, disguising
himself in old clothes, and coming night after night to this wretched
quarter to pick the pockets of the unfortunates of the streets.
Bart had clutched Merry’s arm, and he was pointing toward Hooker,
hoarsely and triumphantly whispering:
“Look――watch!”
Hooker bent over the man and seemed about to go through his clothes.
Instead of that, he pushed the sleeper’s hat back from his face. Then,
as if not satisfied, he felt in his pockets some moments, found a
match and struck it. For a single moment he held the match so the
light of the blaze fell full and fair on the face of the sleeper.
Then, with a flirt, the match was flung aside.
“He was making sure the fellow is too drunk to make trouble when he
goes through him,” said Bart.
“Wait!” whispered Frank. “What is he doing now? He seems trying to
awaken the man.”
“He’s trying him to find out if he’s dead to the world,” declared
Hodge.
“No, see――he’s shaking the man! He’s really trying to awaken him!”
“I don’t believe it!”
“He’s slapping his face!”
Smack! smack! smack――the sound of Hooker’s open-handed blows on the
man’s face came plainly to their ears.
“Well, this is a queer piece of business!” admitted Hodge.
Frank was more mystified than ever, and now his curiosity was aroused
to an extraordinary pitch. Smack! smack! smack! Hooker continued to
apply the flat of his hand to the man’s face.
“There is no fooling about that,” said Merriwell. “He’s really trying
to awaken the man.”
Hooker was heard talking earnestly to the unknown, who had been
aroused in a measure by the stinging blows. He was seen to be dragging
the inebriate to his feet.
“Well, he is getting him up!” admitted Hodge.
Frank was relieved. A few moments before he had felt that Hooker was
about to commit an act that would irrevocably brand him as a crook and
a criminal, but nothing of the sort had happened thus far, and it
began to seem that nothing might happen. The disguised student had no
small amount of trouble in getting the man upon his feet. He had
applied heroic measures in arousing him, and the stinging blows from
his open hand had served to awaken the sleeper to a sense of his
position. Now, however, having dragged the man to his feet, Hooker was
finding it difficult to keep him from lying down again.
“Look here, Hodge,” said Merriwell, “does it occur to you that
Hooker’s purpose may be precisely opposite that with which we have
credited him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, instead of coming here to rob the unfortunates of the street, it
may be that he comes here to give them such friendly aid as he can.”
Hodge caught his breath, and then gave a suppressed exclamation of
scorn.
“No,” he said decidedly, “nothing of the kind occurs to me! Don’t be
foolish enough to suggest anything of the sort, Merriwell. Hooker is
not a blooming idiot, even though he may be a crook!”
“Well, one thing is certain, thus far we have seen him do nothing
unlawful.”
“Not yet, but we’re hot on the scent, and you can bet your life on
that.”
Hooker was forcing the man to walk, holding him by the arm. The
inebriate reeled drunkenly, and then came near falling down. Then, as
if losing patience, the outcast forced his new companion up against
the wall, held him there a moment, then shook him like a rag.
“He’s bound to shake some of the rum out of the fellow,” chuckled
Frank.
“He’ll shake it up so it’ll go to the man’s head more than ever,”
declared Bart.
But after this shaking the stranger seemed to make a mighty effort to
brace up and walk straight, and he did remarkably well, although
Hooker still kept hold of him. Since finding this man, Hooker had
seemed to forget to be suspicious and watch behind him, so Bart and
Frank had no trouble at all in following along.
The adventure was growing in interest for Frank. It was something new
and novel――something to break the regularity of college life.
Another drunken man came singing along and ran into Hooker and his
companion. Straightway the man who had been singing attempted to pick
a quarrel, while Hooker tried to avoid him and pass on. The
belligerent individual, however, as soon as he saw Hooker wished to
escape trouble, proceeded to force matters, after the style of a
drunken bully. At last, thoroughly exasperated, Hooker suddenly caught
hold of the man, kicked his feet from beneath him, and let him drop to
the ground in a manner that must have given him a severe jolt. Then he
took his companion’s arm again and they went on.
“Well,” said Frank, with satisfaction, “I rather fancy the way he did
that.”
They were on the opposite side of the street, so they had no trouble
in passing the dazed pugilist, who had struggled to his feet and was
looking after Hooker in a bewildered manner that was rather ludicrous.
Hodge was not saying much now. Somehow, this adventure had not turned
out just as he had expected it would, and, although he did not confess
it, he was not a little puzzled by Hooker’s actions. At length Hooker
and his companion came to a corner saloon, from the interior of which
came the sound of men talking loudly and discordantly. Hooker’s
companion seemed to insist on going in there, and, after awhile, the
student consented.
“Well,” said Hodge, “we’ve run our game into a fine hole at last!”
“Still,” persisted Frank, “we have seen him do nothing criminal.”
“We’ve seen him do things that are evidence that he’s up to something
crooked.”
“Not evidence.”
“Well, what do you want for evidence?”
“I want evidence. Instead of doing anything criminal, Hooker picked up
a poor wretch on the street, and――――”
“Took him into a saloon――into a low dive!” exclaimed Bart scornfully.
“No, he did not take the man there. The man persisted in going there,
and it was plain to me that Hooker accompanied him with reluctance.”
“Well, that was not plain to me, if it was to you. I don’t see how you
can hold onto him and pretend to think he is all right after what we
have seen. His every movement since entering the shop of that old Jew
has been that of a sneak and a crook. We have followed him to the
worst quarter of the city, and have seen him enter one of the lowest
dens in company with a drunken man. If that is the sort of chap you
choose to associate with, Frank Merriwell, I am ready to confess that
I don’t know anything at all about you.”
Never had Bart Hodge been more in earnest, and Frank realized that his
companion was making a strong argument. Still, Merry was not
satisfied, and he refused to throw Hooker over till he learned
something more convincing against him.
“I’ll guarantee,” said Bart, “that Hooker is in there drinking with
his dopey companion. He prefers to associate with a fellow of that
sort.”
“I am going in and see what he is doing,” said Frank quietly.
“And that will be a fine place to get your nut split open!”
“I think I can take care of myself.”
“If you go in there, I shall go with you.”
“I prefer to go alone.”
“And I refuse to permit it!”
“You refuse! My dear fellow, I don’t think you will do that.”
“All the same, I shall. Don’t think for a minute that I will permit
you to take such a risk unless I am with you. That may be a regular
robbers’ den. In fact, I am inclined to believe that it is, else
Hooker would not be going there.”
“If we both go in there, we may attract attention. If I go in alone, I
shall do so unobtrusively.”
“You cannot fail to attract attention if you enter that place, old
man, and you know it.”
“Why not?”
“Your appearance is somewhat different from the customers who
patronize this joint, I rather think.”
“But you must remember that I have a way of making myself appear at
home almost anywhere.”
“But you wear a ring, a scarf-pin, and you have a watch-chain in
view.”
“I shall remove the scarf-pin, take off the ring, and button my coat
over my vest.”
“That will not hide your clothes, and you will be conspicuous amid a
lot of sailors and bums.”
“Still, I believe I can go in there without attracting much attention
to myself. If we go in together, we are far more likely to be noticed
by Hooker.”
“If you were to go in there and find out that Hooker really was up to
something crooked, what would you do?”
“Get out quietly, and give Hooker the throw-down at the first
opportunity. Never fear, Bart, if I discover that you are right about
the fellow――if I satisfy myself beyond a doubt that he is what you
believe him to be――I shall treat him as I would any other rascal.”
“If you get into trouble, old man, you must give me the signal
instantly. I’ll be just outside here, and I’ll come in on the jump.
Will you do it?”
“Sure thing.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I hate to have you go alone, but I know how set you are when
you make up your mind to a thing.”
“Then it is settled! You will wait here?”
“Don’t see but I’ll have to.”
“Now you are sensible, old man. You know I have entered joints quite
as tough as this one, and I still live to tell the tale.”
Bart had great confidence in Merry, but he had desired to be with
Frank when Hooker was discovered in some crooked or criminal act.
Frank removed his scarf-pin and ring and handed them over to Bart.
Then he buttoned his coat tightly across his breast and prepared to
enter the low saloon.
“Remember,” said Hodge, “if you get into any trouble, just give me the
signal. I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”
“But you must stay out unless I do give the signal.”
“Well, I’ll stay out awhile, if I don’t hear a row going on in that
place. If I hear that, I shall get inside to see how you are faring.”
This was all right, and so Frank walked up to the door, pushed it open
quietly, and entered. He found a lot of tough-looking men drinking in
front of a bar, behind which were two dispensers of drinks. The place
smelled of liquor. The floor was covered with sawdust, well
besprinkled with tobacco juice. Men were smoking vile-smelling pipes
and scarcely less vile-smelling cigars. It was a Saturday-night crowd,
and the most of them seemed bent on getting intoxicated. Among them
were a number of poor laboring men, who were squandering their
hard-earned money in that miserable place.
Frank walked in as if it were not the first time he had entered the
place, sauntered up to one end of the bar, and stood there quietly.
“What’ll yer have?” asked one of the barkeepers.
“Beer,” answered Frank, feeling that it would not do to call for a
soft drink in that place.
A glass of beer that was half foam was slopped out and placed before
him. He threw down the right pay for it, and the barkeeper turned his
attention to others.
Merry had no intention of drinking that beer. At his feet was a wooden
box, two-thirds full of sawdust, which served as a cuspidor when any
one cared to use it for that purpose. Into this Merry quietly and
unobservedly turned part of the glass of beer. With the half-emptied
glass on the bar before him, he proceeded to look around, wiping his
mouth. He quickly discovered that neither Hooker nor his companion was
standing before the bar. Further inspection disclosed a back room, the
door to which stood open. In the back room were three tables, at which
men were sitting, drinking and smoking. Hooker and the man he had
picked up on the street were sitting at one of the tables. Without
trouble, Merriwell changed his position slightly, so that he was able
to watch Hooker, while he remained almost entirely concealed by
several men who were standing near.
Jim Hooker was talking earnestly to the unfortunate man, who sat on
the opposite side of the table. He was not drinking, and Merry
observed that no drink sat before him. The other man seemed impatient,
and one of the waiters brought him something in a glass. Hooker took
the glass and smelled of it, while the waiter shrugged his shoulders
and held out his hand. Then Hooker felt in his pocket, brought out a
dime, and paid for the drink, which he shoved across to the other man.
From the appearance of the drink, Merry quickly decided that it was
some kind of a mixture intended to aid in straightening the
unfortunate inebriate up. The man took it up, tasted it, and made a
face expressive of disgust. Then Hooker urged him to drink it down
quickly.
Of course, this was interesting to Frank. What did Hooker mean to do
with the man after sobering him off? That was a question that troubled
him some. With some trouble, the man forced himself to drink the
contents of the glass. Just as this was done, Frank saw the barkeeper
catch from off the bar the glass he had half emptied and slop the
remaining contents into a washtank beneath the bar.
Merry understood what that meant, and he immediately ordered another
glass of beer, which was placed before him. If he was going to keep
his place at the bar, he must buy drinks often. It was Saturday night,
and any one who did not pan out well could not hold a position at that
bar. There were times when Merry felt that it would be an advantage to
smoke, and this was one of them. Had he been smoking, it would not
have seemed so peculiar for him to stand there at the bar, idly gazing
around.
When Hooker’s companion had disposed of the drink, the outcast fell to
talking to him again in a most earnest manner. The man was surly, and
he seemed to be demanding something. Hooker seemed to argue with him,
but he persisted in his demands. After a time, Hooker felt in his
pockets and took out a little money, which he placed on the table.
This the man eagerly seized, and then it was evident that he demanded
more; but Hooker shook his head and appeared to be declaring that he
had no more. At this the man grew angry.
“Instead of robbing his new friend,” said Frank to himself, “he is
coughing up to him.”
At last, Hooker felt in his pocket and took out something which he had
done up in a paper. The paper he stripped off, placing the object on
the table before his companion. It was a watch and chain!
“Heavens!” muttered Frank Merriwell, starting violently, “is that my
watch?”