FRANK’S CAPTURE.
The following morning the campers on Sandy Point were astir at an early
hour. Browning did not carry a mark of the conflict, but Merriwell and
Hodge showed slight bruises.
Diamond was thoroughly ashamed of having been found in such a gang.
Naturally distant toward strangers, it was difficult for him to explain
how he had been led into the trap. Seeing this, Frank did not press him
for an explanation. The real truth was, however, that, overcome by
mortification because of the poor showing he had made in the canoe race,
the Virginian had decided to take a drink. Being in a prohibition State,
he had found it difficult to obtain anything. However, he had found an
individual who claimed to know where there was something, and Jack had
been led to the cottage up the shore. After taking two or three drinks,
the Virginian did not notice that the party that gathered was composed
of persons who seemed to have a secret understanding, one with another.
Jack was looking for excitement, and a game of poker promised to provide
what he sought. Thus he was drawn into the game. After it began Welch
appeared and was taken in. Then came Bunker. The reader knows what
followed.
Dunnerwust turned out early and built a fire. Then he wandered away from
the cottage, going out to the shore.
Twenty minutes later, he came panting and stumbling into the cottage,
showing symptoms of great excitement.
“Kvick!” he gurgled. “Somepody gone oudt und drife him avay!”
“What’s the matter, Hans?” asked Frank.
“He vill got avay uf you don’d hurry oop!” spluttered the Dutch boy.
“Who will get away? What’s the matter with you?”
“Der man mit der viskers.”
“What man?”
“Der one vot seen me ad der gottage vere der vight peen last nighd. I
shust seen him oudt here.”
“The man with the whiskers?” repeated Frank. “There was but one man with
whiskers at the cottage last night. That was Bunker. He can’t be here.”
“Yaw; he vos oudt there.”
“Then he is up to some crookedness!” exclaimed Merry, leaping to his
feet and catching up a shotgun. “Where is he, Hans?”
“Oudt towart der ganoes.”
Frank sprang through the doorway, and Diamond followed. Seeing this,
Hans ran after them, directing them by shouting loudly, much to
Merriwell’s disgust.
“If there’s anybody out here, he’ll know we are coming,” thought Frank.
Straight out toward the beach on which the canoes lay Frank ran. He was
not long in coming in sight of the shore. When he did so, he saw
something that made his blood leap in his veins.
Bill Bunker was pushing off from the shore in one of the single canoes.
The man could hear the voice of Hans, and it was plain he knew some one
was coming, for he started to paddle away as swiftly as possible.
Frank broke out of the woods and ran down to the very water’s edge. Then
he threw the gun to his shoulder and took aim toward the man in the
canoe, shouting:
“Stop! Come back here, or I will shoot!”
Bunker cast a look over his shoulder and saw Merriwell. He hesitated,
with the paddle poised in the air. It was plain that he was in doubt.
“I mean business!” declared Frank. “You are stealing one of our canoes,
and I shall be justified in shooting you. As true as there is a gun in
my hand, I’ll shoot if you do not turn about at once and paddle back
here!”
No one could doubt his earnestness. Bunker did not hesitate longer, but
promptly turned about and sullenly paddled to the shore.
“What were you doing with that canoe?” asked Frank.
“Well,” said the man, “I did mean to take all of them as payment for the
guns you lost for Welch and I yesterday morning, but I heard you coming
before I was ready to take them in tow. You will have to pay for those
guns before I am done with you.”
“So that was your trick? Well, it was just what I should expect from
you.”
“Well, I don’t know as I want your old canoes, anyway.”
Bunker turned to walk away, but Frank stopped him.
“Not so fast,” said Merry, grimly. “I am not through with you.”
“What do you want?”
Again Frank covered the man with the muzzle of the shotgun.
“Up with your hands!” he commanded.
Bunker turned pale.
“What for?” he asked.
“Because I command you to put them up. Be lively about it! I know I am
dealing with a desperado, and I shall not hesitate to shoot if you try
to fool with me.”
The man tried to palaver, but that did not go with Frank, and he was
forced to obey. He held his hands above his head, and then Merry
directed Diamond to search and disarm him. This Jack did, taking a
revolver and knife from the man.
Following this, the painter was taken from one of the canoes, and the
man’s hands were bound behind his back, despite his protestations and
threats. Then he was marched to the cottage.
Browning and Hodge were just coming out to see what was going on when
the trio appeared with the prisoner.
“He was stealing one of our canoes,” explained Frank.
“Well, what are you going to do with him?” asked Bruce.
“Don’t know yet. I’ll decide on that point later.”
Bunker was marched into the cottage, and then Frank observed:
“There is one little point I mean to settle without delay. There is a
certain mystery about this gentleman. If I am not mistaken, it does not
require a razor to give him a clean shave.”
Then he took hold of the captive’s whiskers and gave them a sharp jerk.
They came off in his hands, showing they were false.
“Just what I thought!” exclaimed Merry, triumphantly. “Now, how about
this long hair?”
It did not take long to establish the fact that Bunker wore a wig and
his face was stained with paint that made it look coarse and repulsive.
“Fellows,” cried Merriwell, “see that scar under his ear! I have made a
big catch this morning, for this is the gentleman Ben Bowers, the
sheriff, wants to see. This is Joe Tweed, who robbed and nearly killed
Peter Small!”
Frank’s words gave the others a shock, but they saw that, with his
disguise removed, the man answered the description Bowers had given of
the robber.
Of course the captive denied that he was Tweed, but that made no
difference with Frank.
“Mr. Bowers will decide that point,” he said. “I shall take you over to
see him to-day.”
The prisoner resorted to threats, pleading and attempted bribery.
Everything was unavailing. Frank was determined, and that very day,
before noon, the man stood before the sheriff and was identified as Joe
Tweed.
“Young man,” said Bowers, “you done a big job when you caught him! The
reward is your’n, and I’ll see that you git it. I was afraid the blamed
critter had got clean away.”
“And so I would,” said Tweed, sullenly, “if I had not been a fool. I
might have skipped yesterday, but I stayed to get a crack at Frank
Merriwell, and he has landed me here. I made my mistake in not letting
him rip, even if he was responsible for my ducking in the lake. But I
never robbed old Small, and I defy you to prove that I did.”
This did not prove so hard, however, for Jim Welch turned out to be
Tweed’s accomplice, and he gave the whole thing away when he was
accused. Almost every dollar of the stolen money was recovered, and both
Welch and Tweed were indicted and held for trial.
Merriwell actually received the reward that had been offered for the
capture of the robber.
“Fellows,” he said, “that was a great catch, for this money will go a
long distance toward defraying the expenses of our trip. We are having
lots of sport, and it is not costing us much.”
“But you must acknowledge one thing,” said Hodge, with a show of
triumph.
“What’s that?” asked Frank.
“That you failed to find a redeeming quality in one rascal, and that one
was Jim Welch.”
“Well,” laughed Frank, “Welch did not turn out very well, but still I do
not believe he is all bad. He has not been given much of a show to
exhibit the better side of his nature.”
THE END.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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To be Published During September
359—A Daring Express Messenger By John K. Stafford
358—A Mysterious Foe By Nicholas Carter
357—A Game of Draw By Dick Stewart
356—The Queen of Diamonds By Nicholas Carter
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355—An Unexpected Move By Scott Campbell
354—An Ingenious Stratagem By Nicholas Carter
353—The Missing Bracelet By Inspector Stark
352—The Master Villain By Nicholas Carter
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351—Smugglers at Odds By John K. Stafford
350—Playing a Lone Hand By Nicholas Carter
349—The Green Goods Speculator By Dick Stewart
348—The Mystic Diagram By Nicholas Carter
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MEDAL LIBRARY NO. 271
A weekly publication devoted to good literature. August 12, 1904
The HARKAWAY
LIBRARY
[Illustration]
❦
Detailing
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Every boy will rejoice to know that at last the adventures of the famous
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● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
when a predominant form was found in this book.
○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
End of Project Gutenberg's Frank Merriwell's Chase, by Burt L Standish