A NIGHT OF ANXIETY.
Wallace and Woodock both heard Flynn say, “I have finished him!” and
they saw Bart stretched on the ground. When the ruffian took to his
heels they did not waste much time in following his example, and the
trio soon disappeared from view.
Finding himself alone with Hodge, Frank quickly knelt at the side of his
fallen friend.
“Bart!” he anxiously exclaimed; “are you hurt much? Speak—answer me!”
But Hodge did not speak, and his face looked pale and ghastly in the
white moonlight that streamed across the water.
A sudden fear seized Merriwell, for he, also, had heard the words of the
ruffian, Flynn. Was Hodge dead?
Frank looked for a wound, but could find none. He would not have been
surprised had he found the stones of the beach red with the blood of his
friend.
Then he felt for Bart’s heart, but it seemed that there was not so much
as a fluttering beneath his hand, and his fear turned to horror.
“He has killed Hodge!”
The words came in a hoarse gasp from Merry’s lips. And then, suddenly,
he reproached himself.
“I was a fool!” he said. “If I had sworn out a warrant for the wretch
and set an officer on his track, this would not have happened. I am to
blame! Oh, but I will avenge my friend! I am aroused at last!”
Too late!
It seemed that the evening breeze whispered the words in his ear.
But the criminal must not escape.
At that moment several persons, attracted by the sounds of the conflict,
came hurrying to the spot. They found Frank endeavoring to arouse Bart.
To their questions Merriwell replied by telling them just what had
happened and who were responsible.
“Why, it can’t be Walter Wallace who had anything to do with this!”
exclaimed a Belfast man.
“He was concerned,” declared Merriwell; “but he is not the one most
guilty. I do not fancy he knew one of his companions had murder in his
heart. Find Parker Flynn. He is the one who must suffer for this!”
Then he described Flynn, and some of the men hastened away to give the
alarm and attempt to apprehend the perpetrator of the deed.
Hodge was lifted and carried into the cottage. There did not seem to be
a cut upon his head, but there was a contusion.
“A doctor must be summoned at once!” said Merriwell, who was becoming
more and more alarmed.
“Perhaps Dr. Mann is somewhere on the ground. He comes down often. Send
somebody to the hotel to look for him.”
But Dr. Mann was not on the ground. He had not come down from the city.
Every effort was being made to restore Bart, but he lay in a heavy
stupor, although he was breathing and his heart could be felt fluttering
irregularly.
Some of the wheelmen heard what had happened, and came to the cottage.
Harold Dustan was on hand, and he said he would send a fast rider to the
city for a doctor. This was done, but the doctor was out making a call,
which caused some delay, as another one had to be summoned, and it was
not easy to find one who wished to ride to Northport that night.
Till the physician arrived Frank Merriwell hovered over his friend.
Diamond came, took one look at Hodge, and then plunged out of the
cottage, muttering an oath of vengeance as he went. Frank knew the
Virginian had gone to aid in the search for Flynn.
Neither Wallace nor Woodock could be found on the ground. They had
appeared in breathless haste at the hotel and taken their wheels out. No
one knew whither they had gone, but it was plain they had taken flight,
overcome with terror.
The doctor examined Hodge, and set about doing everything possible to
bring the unfortunate lad out of the stupor.
“How badly is he hurt, doctor?” asked Frank, anxiously.
“I do not know yet,” was the physician’s candid confession. “He should
have come round before this. His skull may be fractured, but I do not
think so.”
“If not, why does he remain in this stupor?”
“Perhaps his brain was injured by the shock. It is possible there is a
blood clot forming on his brain.”
“If so——”
“We will hope it is not so.”
The manner in which the doctor uttered the words showed that he regarded
the case as hopeless, if a clot should form on Bart’s brain. He had
spoken plainly so that he might be understood.
“And all this came about through my negligence in letting that rascal
alone!” thought Frank, reproachfully. “If I had set the officers after
him when he tried to stab me in Belfast, Bart would not be there on that
bed, dying, perhaps.”
Frank spent a night of acute torture. He reproached himself constantly.
Several of the wheelmen stayed at Northport, anxious to learn the result
of the doctor’s efforts.
Toward morning Bart opened his eyes and looked around in a wondering
way. Frank uttered a low exclamation of thankfulness, and would have
spoken, but the doctor motioned for him to be silent, whispering in his
ear:
“Wait. Let him speak first. Don’t shock him now.”
After some time Hodge muttered thickly:
“What’s the matter?”
“Now you may speak to him,” said the doctor.
“Is there anything I can do for you, old man?” asked Frank, gently.
“Do for me?” repeated Bart, vaguely. “What’s the matter? I’m in bed.”
“Yes.”
“My head——”
“You were hurt.”
“Hurt? How?”
“You were struck on the head, you know. Don’t you remember?”
“I almost remember. I knew something had happened. Now—I am beginning to
remember! Flynn—he meant to do you!”
“And he struck you instead of me.”
“That’s it! I remember seeing him just as he struck, but I didn’t have
time to dodge. He must have hit me a good one. Where is he?”
“Twenty men are hunting for him.”
“Hope they catch him! He ought to be hanged! Got to shut him up now,
Merry, or he’ll do you next.”
“I think that’s right, Bart.”
“I know it. Ought to have done it before. He’s a bad one. I’m tired. I
want to sleep. We’ll talk it over in the morning. Can I sleep here?”
“Yes, it’s all right. Sleep as much as you like.”
“All right. Good-night, Merry. You’re a brick! Don’t let Flynn do you
up. I’ll stand by you, Merry. Good-night. I’m fagged out.”
His eyes closed wearily, and he slept.
“Will he be all right in the morning, doctor?” asked Frank.
“I think so,” answered the doctor; “but that was an awful blow. We can’t
tell the result of it. He may never be in as good condition as he was
before, but we’ll hope that he comes round all right.”
Frank was wearied. He wondered where Diamond could be, but he knew well
enough Jack was doing everything in his power to catch Flynn.
Morning was not far away when Frank lay down upon a couch and fell
asleep. He was exhausted, and he slept soundly till some time after the
sun had risen. He was aroused by the owner of the cottage, who informed
him that a boy had just said that he was wanted at the telephone in the
hotel.
Bart was sleeping. Frank took one look at him, and then hastened over to
the hotel. He was shown the ’phone. As soon as he spoke, a voice asked:
“That you, Merry?”
It was Jack.
“Yes,” answered Frank. “What do you want?”
“Want you to come to Belfast in a hurry.”
“What’s up?”
“I have Flynn located here.”
“Nab him!”
“Can’t do it very well till you swear out a warrant for him. I am
watching him. Make time getting here, old man, and we’ll pinch the
scoundrel. I will wait for you at the Windsor. Come on, now, and don’t
let any grass grow under your bike.”
“All right. I’ll be there in a very short time. Don’t let Flynn get
away.”
Bang!—up on the fork went the receiver. Ting-lingling!—Merry rang off.
Scoot!—he made a rush for the room where the bicycles had been stored.
Three minutes later he carried his wheel out of the hotel. He mounted it
in a moment, and away he flew up the little hill and out of sight on his
way to Belfast.
Frank fairly flew over the dusty road. It was well for him that there
was no law for scorching on Northport Avenue, for he was going like an
express train when he reached that long, straight strip of road leading
into Belfast. Behind him rose a thin cloud of dust picked up by the
tires of his wheels.
Another thing that favored Frank was that it was early in the morning,
and there were not many teams on the avenue. Around Belfast there had
been so much riding that few horses minded a wheel more than they did
another team, and Frank did not find it necessary to slacken speed for
any of them he met.
People stared at him in amazement as he flitted past like the wind. They
had seen fast riding, but never anything quite like this. Those who
obtained a glimpse of his hard-set face and gleaming eyes were certain
it was a case of life or death, and that he must be riding thus
furiously for a doctor.
Into Belfast sped Merriwell. His one fear was that his enemy, the wretch
who had struck Hodge down, would escape. He was determined now. Flynn
should be punished as he deserved. Thomaston prison should hold the
wretch. It made no difference that it would cost time and trouble to
prosecute. Frank thought of Hodge lying in a stupor nearly all the
night, of his anguish as he watched beside his faintly breathing friend,
of the vows he had repeated, and there was not an atom of mercy in his
heart. Indeed, he felt as if he had never known mercy for an enemy.
The bicycle sang its whirring song beneath him, and it seemed to urge
him to still greater exertion. His heart swelled with a fierce longing
to clutch and hold the wretch he sought. He pictured the satisfaction he
would feel as he cornered the scoundrel.
As he approached the Windsor he saw Jack Diamond was there, and that
caused his heart to leap, for he felt that Flynn had not escaped.
Scarcely slacking the speed of his wheel, he made a flying leap, his
feet struck the ground, he ran forward a few steps and stood before the
Virginian, panting.
“Where is he?”
“Great Scott!” gasped Diamond. “How did you get here so soon? Didn’t
expect you for ten minutes.”
Frank’s hand shot out, his fingers fastened on Jack’s shoulder, and he
shook the Southerner, as he almost snarled:
“Where is he?”
“Steady,” cautioned the Virginian, who had been cautioned himself and
held in check a hundred times by Frank. “He is right here.”
“Where?”
“Inside.”
“The hotel?”
“Yes.”
“Lead the way.”
“Wait a minute.”
“Not a second.”
“You must!”
“Why?”
“Where is your warrant? This man must be arrested in proper style. It
won’t do to attempt to take him by main force without the proper
authority.”
“And while we dinky around he may take the alarm and escape.”
“The door of his room is watched. I have Dustan on guard there. He can’t
come out of that room without Dustan seeing him. He won’t get away,
Frank. You are cool enough usually, but now——”
“All night I have watched beside the bed of a friend struck down by that
devil, not knowing but that friend might die before morning. All my
coolness was eaten away by the fury that gnawed at my heart. Sometimes I
believe I would have killed Flynn without hesitation had I been able to
reach him.”
Something like satisfaction filled the heart of Jack Diamond, for
Merriwell’s general coolness and self-control had been exasperating to
him more than once. He had felt that Frank was altogether too cool under
exasperating circumstances, and he had almost doubted that the great
Yale pitcher could be stirred and utterly controlled by his passions.
Now, however, he saw that, for once at least, Frank Merriwell was
betraying the same emotions any other fellow in his position might feel,
and that gave Diamond absolute pleasure.
It seemed strange to the hot-blooded Virginian to be counseling caution
and doing all in his power to hold Frank in check. It was a novel
experience, and he realized that such a thing was not likely to happen
again, so he made the most of it.
“The proper officers are waiting in the office of the hotel, Frank,”
said Jack, quietly.
“What officers?”
“A lawyer, and——”
“What do I want of a lawyer now?”
“Why, you must have a warrant. The sheriff is there, also, and he will
be able to serve the warrant as soon as you swear it out. I could have
done this, but I thought it best to leave it all to you.”
“That was right,” said Frank, a change coming over him—a change that was
so sudden that it startled Jack, for Merry seemed to suddenly become as
cool as ice. “You have done well, Diamond. Let’s get to work in short
order.”
Jack led the way into the hotel. As he had said, a lawyer and an officer
were waiting in the office. Two or three others were present.
In short order Frank swore out a warrant against Parker Flynn, charging
the scoundrel with assault with murderous intent. The paper was placed
in the hands of the officer to serve.
Up the stairs they went, officer, Merriwell, Diamond, and two or three
others. They approached the door of a room before which stood Harold
Dustan.
“He hasn’t offered to come out,” said Dustan, softly. “I think he is
asleep.”
Rat-tat-tat!—the knuckles of the sheriff beat a tattoo on the panel of
the door.
No answer. All was quiet within that room.
Again the sheriff knocked loudly, but still there was no answer. He
turned the knob and shook the door.
“Open this door!” he commanded.
Not a sound from within.
“Open it, in the name of the law!”
Even that failed to elicit a response.
Frank grew impatient.
“There must be a duplicate key,” he said. “Let’s have it.”
“I will get it,” said the clerk, and he started downstairs.
Frank knelt in front of the door and tried to peer through the keyhole,
but he quickly said:
“There is a key in this lock on the inside!”
“Then he must be in there,” said Diamond. “It’s no use for him to play
this kind of a game. We’ll have him soon.”
A sudden thought came to Merry. What if Flynn had committed suicide? The
fellow was rattleheaded and desperate. Without doubt he drank heavily.
No one could tell what such a man might do.
The clerk came with the key, but it could not be used. Again the sheriff
demanded admittance, and again there was no answer.
“Break down the door!” said Frank.
“Wait!” cried the clerk—“wait till I find the proprietor!”
“I will pay for the door!” exclaimed Frank. “Go ahead, Mr. Officer.”
The sheriff set his shoulder against the door and gave a surge. Then
there was a crash and the door flew open.
Into the room they went.
It was empty! Flynn was not there!
The window was open. Out of it dangled a rope. Frank leaped forward and
looked out into the back yard.
“He’s gone!” cried Merriwell, fiercely. “He knew he was watched, and he
has given us the slip!”
“What’s this?” exclaimed Jack, catching up a sheet of paper from the
stand. “He’s left a note here.”
Then Diamond read aloud:
“I know this room is watched. You think you have me caught, but
I will fool you. When I found myself watched, I came here and
took this room, which I have occupied before, because I knew it
would be easy to drop out into the back yard and give you the
slip that way. But I am not done with Mr. Frank Merriwell. He
has robbed me, and I will get at him yet. My time is coming.
“FLYNN.”
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