A DESPERATE ATTEMPT.
The man’s manner was quite as offensive as his words, but Merry looked
at him calmly, betraying no emotion, as he asked:
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Your acceptance of my challenge was a squeal,” declared Morley.
“How?”
“My challenge was to play for a purse and the entire gate-money.”
“And I accepted, stating my reasons for declining to play for a purse.”
“Which was a squeal.”
“Which was nothing of the sort! I have not started out with the
intention of running this ball-team to make money. We are out for
sport, and nothing else. I am not a gambler, and I take no satisfaction
in playing ball for purses.”
“Oh, I don’t suppose you ever did such a thing in your life?” sneered
Morley.
Merry flushed.
“It makes no difference what I have done.”
“But you can’t deny that you have played for purses.”
“Never without protest--never unless practically forced to do so. In
this case, I refuse to be forced. The gate-money should be sufficient
to pay well the winning team.”
“My team is run under heavy expense, and there is no assurance that
your aggregation of amateurs will prove a drawing card.”
Hodge was at Frank’s elbow, scowling like a thundercloud, his heart
filled with hot anger over the insolent words of the man. Bart’s
fighting blood was being stirred, and he longed to give Mr. David
Morley just what he deserved.
“Then you have the privilege of declining to meet us,” said Frank.
“That will settle the whole matter in short order.”
“He knows we’ll draw!” exclaimed Hodge. “Your name alone, Merriwell,
will turn out a crowd.”
“I think you are mistaken,” said the manager of the Reds. “In the East,
Frank Merriwell may be regarded as something of a wonder, but out here
he does not count. We have plenty of better men.”
“I’ll bet you----” began Bart hotly.
“Ah!” grunted Morley; “at least this member of your team is not adverse
to making a little gamble, Mr. Merriwell.”
“That has nothing to do with him,” said Bart. “I’ll bet you ten dollars
we get more hits off your pitcher than you do off Merriwell.”
“Ten dollars!” came scornfully from the manager of the Denver team.
“Why don’t you make it ten cents? You’re putting the figures too high,
young man.”
His words and manner were calculated to enrage Bart still more. Frank’s
fingers fell with a firm grip on the arm of his friend, and he quietly
said:
“I do not think we’ll do any betting over the game. If you wish to play
us on the terms stated by me in my acceptance of your challenge, well
and good. If you do not, we’ll let the matter drop.”
“It’s plain enough, Morley,” put in Elrich, “that the young chap knows
which side his bread is buttered on.”
“He must think me a mark to put my salaried team against his collection
of non-salaried kids,” sneered the baseball man, “unless there is
something more than glory in it. It’s mighty little glory we’d get
defeating his team.”
“That’s right!” exclaimed Bart; “for you’d never defeat it.”
“Then we’ll have to call the game off,” said Frank, remaining perfectly
calm.
“That’s a shame!” muttered Berlin Carson, who had heard some of the
talk. “I’m a Colorado man, but I think I know what Merriwell’s team can
do, and----”
“We cuc-cuc-can do those fellows,” said Gamp, who also was aroused.
“Why, it would be a snap!” chuckled Jack Ready. “All we wanted the game
for was to get a little practise.”
“You’re a lot of bluffers!” roughly declared Morley.
“I told you there was nothing in it, Dave,” said Elrich, with an air of
weariness. “The boys have not money enough to put up a purse.”
Then Frank felt some one tugging at his elbow, and he looked round to
see Dick there, his eyes gleaming and his face flushed with indignation.
“Bet him, Frank!” palpitated the lad. “I wouldn’t stand it to have him
talk that way to me! You know father was dreadfully rich, and all his
money was left to us. I’ll bet every cent of my part that your team can
beat his!”
“Ho! ho!” laughed Morley. “And how much might your part be, kid?”
“Oh, a little trifle of eight or ten million dollars, that’s all,”
said Frank, who could not help being somewhat nettled by the insulting
manner of the man. “I think it would be quite enough to accommodate
you, in case it was staked against anything you could raise at twenty
to one.”
It was not often Merriwell said anything like this, but just now he had
been provoked to the limit, and he could not refrain.
“You don’t mean to say the kid is worth eight or ten million dollars,
do you?” asked Elrich, as if incredulous.
“He will inherit something like that amount when he comes of age,”
answered Merry, as he carelessly toyed with the ball he had held
throughout this conversation.
A swift look passed between Elrich and the man with the gray whiskers,
who stood slightly apart from the group.
“And you’re his brother?” Elrich questioned further.
“I am,” bowed Merry.
“Where do you come in?”
“What do you mean?”
“What part of this snug little fortune do you get?”
“Really, sir, I do not know as that is of any concern to you. Still, it
is no secret that I, also, will inherit a similar sum when he comes of
age.”
“When he does? That’s odd. You’re of age now. How does it happen
that----”
“I decline to speak of this matter further, sir, as I----”
“You’re a big bluffer, Merriwell. I do not take any stock in your
romance of millions.”
“And I care not a snap whether you do or not.”
“If you had so much money at your command, you’d not hesitate to put up
a few hundred to back your ball-team--that is, if you really believe
your team capable of playing ball.”
“I have reasons for not gambling in any way,” said Frank. “I do not
expect men like you to respect my scruples, so all this talk is wasted.”
“Well, we can’t fool with you!” angrily sneered Morley. “I’ll bet you
five hundred dollars, even money, that the Denver Reds can defeat your
ball-team. If you will not cover the money, we’ll fool away no more
time.”
“If he will not cover your money, I reckon I will!” exclaimed a voice,
as a man, who had approached without attracting notice, pushed into the
excited group.
“Father!” exclaimed Berlin Carson.
“Mr. Carson?” came from Merry’s lips.
“That’s me!” nodded the rancher, extending his hand and giving Merry a
hearty grip. “Forgot to tell Berlin to attend to one little piece of
business while in the city, so I decided to follow him. Heard over at
the hotel that you were here, Merriwell, with a ball-team. They told me
where to find you, and I came right out. What sort of a game of talk
was this man giving you?”
“He was trying to force me into wagering money with him over a
ball-game to which he has challenged me. He is the manager of the
Denver Reds.”
“Well, I don’t often bet against a home team, but I know you, and I’ve
seen your men play ball, so, if he wants to plank down five hundred, I
judge I can accommodate the gentleman. I believe I have that amount of
money about my clothes.”
“Then you’re the man I’m looking for!” exclaimed Morley. “Mr. Elrich is
my backer, and he will put up the money.”
“Who’ll hold the stakes?”
“Why, Mr. Jordan here is a good man to----”
“I allow I don’t know anything about Mr. Jordan, but I do know Charley
Gans, down at the Metropole, and he’ll suit me to a T.”
“Gans is all right,” nodded Elrich, who seemed eager to get the bet.
“Then I’ll meet you there at six this evening, and we’ll put up the
dust,” said Mr. Carson, with a dismissing wave of his hand. “Good day
till later.”
“Hurrah!” cried Dick, flinging his hat into the air. “That’s the
stuff!”
“Slang, my boy--slang!” said Ready, severely. “You’re catching on
altogether too quick. I’m afraid you have been associating with bad
company lately.”
“You’re a regular young sport!” said Elrich, with apparent admiration,
his words being intended to flatter the boy.
“Are you a sport?” asked Dick.
“Well, I allow I have some sporting blood in me.”
“Then I’m no sport!” the lad quickly asserted. “I don’t want to be like
you.”
Elrich’s smile turned to a frown, but he said:
“You’re pretty sharp with your tongue, but you may have some of your
flipness taken out of you some day. All the same, I like you, and I’ll
give you a drive back to the hotel in my private carriage, if you’ll
go.”
“Hardly,” said Merry. “He can have all the drives he likes at his own
expense.”
“Oh, very well!” said the gambler, turning away and starting to talk in
a low tone to Morley.
Mr. Carson was speaking with those of Frank’s friends whom he had met
before. Now he turned to Merry once more.
“I reckon I’ve got you to thank for getting my boy onto the Yale
ball-team,” he said. “Berlin said it was through you he got a chance to
show what he could do.”
“It was because I knew he had the right stuff in him,” asserted
Merriwell. “I presume you’ll let him play with us against the Denvers?”
“Sure as you’re shouting! And I’ll disown him if he doesn’t put up a
good game.”
At this moment there came a sudden cry. They turned to see Dick
Merriwell, caught up by the man with the gray beard, being carried
swiftly toward the gate, which was standing open. The man was running,
holding the struggling lad under his arm.
For an instant every one seemed paralyzed with astonishment. Then Frank
Merriwell sprang out, his arm went back, and, with all his strength, he
threw the ball in his hand.
Straight as a bullet from a rifle flew the ball, and it struck the
running man fairly on the back of the head, knocking him forward on his
face.
This caused him to drop the boy, and, quick as thought, Dick scrambled
up and leaped, like a young panther, on the back of the man.
When Merriwell leaped forward, Black Elrich suddenly stepped into his
way, and there was a collision. Elrich staggered and caught hold of
Merriwell’s arm, to which he tried to cling.
Instantly Frank beat off the hand of the man, sprang round him, and
dashed to the aid of Dick. But the man had flung the boy off, and now
he rose to his feet, casting one quick look over his shoulder.
A surprising thing had happened, for the man was beardless now, his
gray whiskers being grasped in the fingers of the plucky lad. Frank saw
the face of the man.
“Mescal!” he cried.
It was Mescal and again he had made a desperate play to get possession
of Dick Merriwell, for Frank was confident it had been the intention of
the fellow to abduct the boy.
Mescal now fled like a deer out through the gate, sprang into the
carriage standing there, tore the reins from the hands of the driver,
snatched out the whip, cut the horses, and was carried away just as
Frank came up.
For a moment Merry contemplated pursuing the desperado, but he quickly
decided that it would be folly to make the attempt.
Black Elrich came rushing out through the gate, shouting:
“Stop! stop there! By heavens! he’s running off with my team!”
Frank faced the gambler, his eyes flashing.
“The job failed, Elrich,” he said cuttingly. “It was a daring attempt,
and rather foolish, I think.”
“The man is crazy!” said Black Ben.
“Crazy to make a play for ransom-money,” said Merry. “I know him, and
I’ll see that the police of Denver are put on his track. If he is
caught, he may squeal and expose his pals. In that case, Mr. Elrich,
you are liable to feel rather uncomfortable.”
“Do you mean to insinuate----”
“My words are plain. I saw the look that passed between you and that
man a short time ago. My eyes are pretty wide open.”
“Why, I don’t know the man. He came along to the gate as we were
entering, and walked in with us.”
“By appointment?”
“Nothing of the sort! I tell you I don’t know him. And anybody who
knows me will swear that my word is good.”
“In a matter of cards or other gambling it may be. But I wish you to
inform Anton Mescal that I shall be better prepared for him next time.
The ball that brings him down then will be of lead, and not a common
baseball.”