BACK TO THE YACHT.
If Frank had accepted, he and his friends would have been taken care of
at the best hotel at Belfast without finding it necessary to pay a cent
for accommodations. The Belfast Wheelmen assured him that the city was
his. He could take what he wanted, and they would settle the bill.
But Frank explained that the accommodations on board the _White Wings_
were sufficient and he preferred staying on board, as he could watch his
yacht. He did not wish to take chances of losing it, and it was possible
Flynn might make another desperate attempt to take it.
He was invited to accompany the club on an evening run to Northport, and
accepted. They told him to bring along any of his friends who wished to
go, saying wheels would be furnished for all.
When he left the club he was forced to pass through the throng outside
the door. As he appeared, a voice exclaimed:
“There he is!”
Then there was considerable pushing, and a small boy shouted:
“Hooray fer Frank Merriwell! He’s a jim-hickey!”
A yell went up from the boys.
Frank laughed and bowed.
“Why don’t ye come down here to live?” piped a little fellow. “Then
Belfast could git inter the league an’ beat anything on top of the
earth.”
“Clear out, you young rascals!” cried Howard Dustan. “Don’t you know
better than to block the way!”
He started to drive them back, but Frank quickly interfered.
“That’s all right, Dustan,” he said. “They are not in my way. Let them
alone.”
“That’s him!” shrilled a youngster with a freckled face. “That’s jest
like Frank Merriwell. He don’t never try ter crowd nobody off’n the
earth.”
Frank passed through the crowd, and, accompanied by Dustan, walked along
the main street. It did not seem so remarkable that the town of Camden
had given him so much attention, but he was surprised when he found
himself regarded with equal interest in Belfast. Men turned to look at
him, and pretty girls gave him curious and admiring glances as they
passed.
As they turned from the main street toward the steamboat wharf, Dustan
said:
“Here is the Windsor Hotel. We will meet here this evening at seven
o’clock for the run down to Northport. It is not far, but we can spend a
pleasant evening at Northport and start back by ten o’clock. Bring any
of your friends who wish to come. We’ll try to make it pleasant for
you.”
Frank expressed his thanks and promised to be on hand.
Dustan walked all the way to the wharf.
Diamond was watching for Merry, and saw him descending the hill. Then he
got Hodge into the boat, and they were at the wharf waiting for Frank
when he arrived.
Frank introduced Dustan, who was urged to go off to the yacht.
“I can’t do so this afternoon, gentlemen,” said Howard; “but I’ll be
pleased to do so to-morrow. I’ve got to go home and get ready for this
evening.”
So, shaking hands with Merry, he turned and hastened away.
“How does Belfast strike you, Merry?” asked Diamond.
“It’s a great town as far as hospitality goes. Why, the Belfast Wheelmen
wanted to lodge us at the best hotel in the city and pay all of our
bills while we remained.”
“Don’t tell Hans,” said Hodge. “He will have a fit if you don’t accept.”
Hans was on deck, and he hailed them before they reached the yacht.
“Did you got dot biece uf bie, Vrankie?” he asked.
“What piece of pie?”
“Why, der von I toldt you to put your bocket indo.”
“I haven’t seen any pie, and I am back here to be fed.”
“Shimminy Gristmas! vot vos der madder mit you, ain’d id?” squawked the
Dutch boy. “You don’d vant to ate der crub vot vos on poard this yocht
uf ven you can got a sqvare meal der shore on, do I?”
“You didn’t suppose I would eat on shore and leave you here to wear your
teeth out on canned stuff and hard bread, did you? Well, I am not that
kind of a chap. What is good enough for you is good enough for me.”
“Py shimminy! I nefer looked at heem dot vay in pefore. You peen all
righd, Vrankie, und I abbreciate your thoughtfulness-ness us of. Subber
vill peen retty as soon as I can got id.”
Then Hans hurried below.
“He is satisfied now,” said Hodge. “You fixed him all right, Frank.”
The water of the harbor was as smooth as glass, for the afternoon breeze
had died out with the declining of the sun. The deck awning had been
erected on the yacht while Frank was absent, and Hans brought up the
folding table and spread it beneath the awning.
Browning was in his bunk, sleeping like a log. When he was aroused by
Merry, he grunted:
“I thought you were going ashore?”
“I have been ashore.”
“Well, why didn’t you stay a while?”
“I stayed more than two hours.”
“Hey? What sort of a jolly are you giving me?”
“No jolly at all. Turn out. You have been sleeping like a pig. I did
think you were about as lazy as you could be before we started on this
cruise, but you are getting worse and worse.”
Browning rolled out of his bunk and sat up rubbing his eyes.
It did not take Hans long to get supper ready, and they gathered about
the table. As they ate, Frank told them of his adventure with Flynn.
Diamond began to get excited as he listened, and he uttered a cry of
rage when Frank told how the fellow tried to stab him.
“Look here, Merriwell!” said the Virginian, hotly, “what are you going
to do about this?”
“Can’t do much,” said Frank. Then he told how Flynn took to his bicycle
and got away.
“And you let him go?” boiled Diamond. “If any man had done such a trick
to me, I’d pursued him round the world, but I’d given him his deserts!”
“Don’t doubt it,” smiled Frank. “If they had brought Flynn back, he’d
been shoved.”
“Why not shove him anyhow?”
“I might, but it would make no end of trouble, you know.”
“Never mind the trouble. Give it to the whelp!”
“But it will spoil our trip down this way.”
“How?”
“I shall be forced to spend some time in pursuing the rascal, and, after
he is caught, it will be necessary to have him tried. It will make no
end of trouble and expense, and, by the time it’s all over, a good share
of the time we have left during this vacation will be used up.”
“Never mind,” said Jack. “We can stand it. Shove him, Merry. It takes
considerable time to arouse you, but you are a bad man when you get
started. Now is the time to get started. Don’t you think so, fellows?”
“Oh, what’s the use to go to all that trouble?” said Bruce. “It won’t
pay.”
The Virginian gave the big fellow a look of scorn, started to say
something, cut himself short, and began eating in a manner that showed
his disgust.
Frank told of the general invitation to accompany the wheelmen on the
run to Northport.
“Who wishes to go?” he asked.
Hodge and Diamond expressed a desire to do so, while Hans said he would
remain and look out for the yacht. Browning said he would stay with
Hans.
After supper they lounged under the awning a while, and Browning, who
had taken up smoking again, lighted a cigar.
“I am glad to see that isn’t a cigarette,” said Frank. “If you must
smoke, smoke anything but cigarettes.”
It was past six when Hans set Frank, Jack and Bart ashore and then rowed
back to the yacht, under the awning of which Bruce still lounged,
apparently fully contented.
The trio walked up the street and arrived at the Windsor ahead of time.
Harold Dustan was waiting for them, and he said:
“Your wheel is ready for you, Mr. Merriwell. Will your friends go?”
“Yes, they thought they would enjoy it.”
“Then I will telephone to Woodock to bring two good wheels for them. No
trouble at all. I made arrangements to provide five wheels, if
necessary.”
He went into the hotel and telephoned for the wheels. Fifteen minutes
later Woodock and Wallace arrived with the extra wheels, which Hodge and
Diamond immediately adjusted to suit them.
The wheelmen gathered swiftly when seven o’clock arrived, and a few
minutes after the hour struck the party started from in front of the
hotel, with Dustan, Merriwell, Diamond and Hodge leading.
It seemed that all the boys of the city were on hand to watch them
start, and the youngsters set up a great yelling as they rode away.
Along the pleasant street they pedaled in the cool shadows of the tall
trees. Handsome residences were to be seen on either hand, and Diamond
found a novelty in mentally contrasting them with the houses of the
South. To him, despite the fact that the Northern houses were tasty and
pleasant, there was something about a Southern dwelling that satisfied
him far better. Had he been asked to tell just what that something was,
he could not have done so, but he felt it was a certain distinctive air
that belonged to the South. For a moment something like a strong feeling
of homesickness swept over him. He remembered how little time he had
spent at home since entering college, and a sense of guilt settled upon
him. To himself he seemed half a traitor.
“But I am a Southerner still!” he mentally exclaimed. “Nothing can wean
my heart from the South. The North is smart and bustling and pleasant,
but it is not like my dear Virginia home. No matter where I may go, I
know my heart will always turn back to Old Virginny.”
At length they came to the forks of the road where Northport Avenue
began. Just as they reached the fountain at the forks, down from the
other street came eight young lady cyclists, merrily ringing their
bells. The boys answered in a similar manner as the young ladies
approached.
Dustan explained that they were friends of the club members, and they
were chaperoned by a young married woman whose husband belonged to the
wheelmen.
Mabel Mischief and Hattie Hazle were with the party. They bowed to
Frank. A flush came into Bart’s cheeks as his eyes rested on Mabel.
“Jove!” he muttered. “What a stunning girl!”
“Which one?” asked Merry.
“The one with light hair.”
“Keep away! I met her first.”
“Then I haven’t a show,” came ruefully from Bart. “I don’t suppose you
will introduce a fellow?”
“Well, did I ever refuse anything of the kind? When the opportunity
comes, I will introduce you.”
Bart watched for the opportunity. He saw Mabel and Hattie racing for the
lead, laughing as they did so. Hattie won, and Mabel stopped trying, so
that Frank soon was at her side. Then Bart pushed forward so that he was
abreast of them and coughed. Frank took the hint, and the desired
introduction followed. Bart lifted his cap gracefully.
Walter Wallace had kept his eyes on Mabel, and he muttered something
under his breath as he saw the introduction. Then he pushed forward and
spoke to her.
“Good-evening, Miss Mischief,” said Wallace. “I thought you said you
could not come with us to-night?”
“I did,” she answered, laughing.
“But here you are.”
“Mother decided to let me come when she knew Mrs. Porter would be with
us.”
“It seems to me that your mother is very particular.”
“She is. Excuse me. Mr. Hodge was speaking to me.”
“Hang Mr. Hodge!” muttered Wallace, under his breath. “I’d like to punch
his head!”
Mabel chatted with Bart and Frank by turns, scarcely noticing Wallace,
who grew more and more angry.
Northport Avenue was in fine condition, and that made the ride very
pleasant.
Hattie Hazle was smitten by the appearance of Diamond, and it was not
long before she found an opportunity to ask Dustan why he did not
introduce Jack. She did this laughingly, saying it was rather awkward to
find herself at times riding beside some one she did not know.
Dustan soon found an opportunity to introduce Jack, and Hattie chatted
away to the Virginian in her artless way. Jack was polite and courteous,
but not in the least effusive. He talked to the pretty girl at his side
without giving her more than an occasional glance, which rather piqued
her, for she was pretty, and she knew it. She was accustomed to
admiration, and the Southerner’s rather distant manner was something new
to her.
It was plain enough that Diamond was not bashful, and that was what
aroused Hattie. Inwardly she resolved to win attention from him. She was
a bright girl, and she began to sound Diamond, in order to find out as
far as possible what his tastes were. She found he loved flowers, read
Thackeray, Scott and Tennyson, admired handsome horses and dogs, and
thought Frank Merriwell the finest fellow in the whole wide world. But,
although she chatted intelligently of the things Jack liked best, she
gave it up and rode forward a bit till she was beside Mabel.
“It’s no use,” she laughed, speaking so Mabel alone could hear, “I can’t
make an impression on the Virginian. He is bullet proof. Wonder if all
Southerners are that way?”
“I’ll chance it that he is in love,” laughed Mabel. “He must be!”
exclaimed Hattie. “But even if he is, he’s the first fellow I ever saw
who wouldn’t flirt a little.”
“And he will not flirt at all?”
“Not a bit!”
“Well, there are others.”
“Oh, Mabel!” exclaimed the dark-haired girl. “I thought you signed the
pledge never, never to use slang again. Why, since I signed that pledge,
slang gives me that tired feeling. I’m dead sore on anything like
slang.”
And then Hattie wondered why Mabel laughed so merrily.
Mabel found an opportunity to ask Frank about Jack.
“Hattie says he acts as if he is in love,” laughed the light-haired
girl. “Is it true? I know it is by the expression on your face! Oh, do
tell us about it!”
“Yes, do!” urged Hattie, riding up on the other side of Frank. “I am
awfully curious now. I am dead stuck on anything romantic.”
“How about slang, Hattie?” asked Mabel.
“Goodness! I forgot! You see, Mr. Merriwell, we have taken the pledge
never, never to use slang any more, and you can bet we are going to keep
it!”
Then, as both Frank and Mabel laughed, she realized what she said, and
her face grew crimson.
“It’s awful!” she declared. “But we girls picked up those things at
school, and we find it hard to get rid of them.”
“Tell us about Mr. Diamond,” urged Mabel.
“Yes, please,” entreated Hattie.
“You tempt me, girls,” confessed Frank; “but I do not believe in giving
away a friend. Excuse me for that bit of slang, but nothing else seems
to express my meaning so perfectly. I can tell you nothing of Mr.
Diamond’s love affairs.”
“Then he has an affair?” exclaimed Hattie. “I knew it! Now I wonder if
he is so constant that he absolutely will not flirt? If he is, he’s the
first fellow I ever saw taken that way. You try him, Mabel.”
“I will if I get a good opportunity,” said Miss Mischief; “and then if
he does flirt, I’ll tell him what I think of him. I’d like to find one
fellow who would be constant.”
“I hope she doesn’t mean anything!” murmured Hodge, reddening somewhat.
“It seems to me she does,” laughed Frank.
Mabel found an opportunity to chat with Jack before Northport was
reached. They came to a hill that was not particularly difficult, but
she complained that her wheel ran hard, and said something was the
matter with it. She asked Jack if he would not examine it, and so they
dismounted at the foot of the hill.
Diamond looked over the wheel in a systematic manner, but could find
nothing the matter with it. He got out his oiler and oiled it. Then
Mabel said she did not feel like riding up the hill, so they walked up
together, for the Virginian would not leave her.
Now, Mabel Mischief was the kind of a girl to attract the Virginian.
Jack was dark and passionate, while she was light and gay. Without
appearing to, she brought all her arts to bear on him in the short time
given her to do so, but the result was not what she expected, for he did
not seem at all impressed. On reaching favorable ground, he said:
“Now, Miss Mitshef, we can overtake the others in a short time.”
He did not even venture to call her Miss Mischief, although everyone
else did so, but was particular to pronounce her name correctly.
“I do not like to ride fast,” she smiled, looking up at him. “We are in
sight of them. What is the need of hurrying?”
“I didn’t know,” said Jack. “I thought you would enjoy being with your
friends.”
“I am satisfied with present company,” she laughed.
Then he looked away, without appearing to hear her, and called her
attention to the view, which was charming.
“You have beautiful scenery around here,” he observed, in a
matter-of-fact way.
“Oh, very!” she said, somewhat sharply; “but I have seen it so much that
I am tired of it. Let’s talk about something else.”
“If you like.”
“Don’t you think Hattie Hazle a pretty girl?”
“I believe she is.”
“You ‘believe so’! Why, didn’t you notice?”
“Not in particular.”
“Well, you are a queer fellow!”
“Am I?”
“Decidedly. Now, what sort of a girl do you admire most?”
“I—I’m sure I—I don’t know,” stammered Jack.
“There must be some girl somewhere who is your ideal. Think of her.
Describe her.”
The face of the Virginian grew crimson, and he betrayed himself by his
confusion.
“Really, Miss Mitshef,” he said, “I think the others are wondering where
we are. I see them looking back.”
“It’s Wallace and Woodock who are looking back. Woodock annoys me and
Wallace bothers Hattie. They will not let us alone.”
Then Jack suddenly straightened up, grimly saying:
“If they dare to annoy you during this ride, Miss Mitshef, they shall
answer to me! A fellow who forces his attentions on a lady is no
gentleman, and he deserves to be soundly whipped. If you need my
assistance, I shall be ready to aid you in any manner possible.”
“Thank you, Mr. Diamond,” she said, with sincere gratitude. “I shall not
forget your kindness.”
And then, strange to say, she was ready to ride forward and overtake the
others.
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