UPLIFTED HEARTS.
The fellow seemed to whirl end over end and strike out in the middle of
the street, where he lay in a stunned condition, not even appearing to
breathe.
Quick as a flash, Frank whirled and faced the others, knowing the
fellow’s companions would be sure to attempt to avenge him.
“Come on, you loafers!” he cried.
“He struck Ned!” shouted one. “Give it to him!”
They all jumped for Frank, but in doing so they bothered each other
more or less.
Merry met them halfway, his arms working like piston rods, his hard
fists cracking on their heads.
It was an astonishing spectacle, for he went into them like a tornado,
knocking them right and left.
To Frank it seemed that never before had he felt so strong and able.
He was perfectly confident that he could clean out the entire crowd of
half-intoxicated young bloods, and he was doing a very satisfactory job
when somebody cried:
“Police!”
Instantly there was a scattering. Somebody had aided to his feet the
fellow Frank struck first, and in a few seconds every one of the gang
vanished.
The policeman came up, followed closely by another, and demanded to
know what it was all about.
The witnesses of this remarkable encounter quickly explained, while
Frank was reassuring the frightened boy and girl.
The officer came and looked Merry over.
“That was Bloodgood’s crowd,” said one of them.
“And this chap fought the whole of them,” exclaimed the other.
“He didn’t know what he was up against.”
“It didn’t seem to make any difference, if what the crowd says is true.
He was getting the best of it.”
“All the same, I reckon it’s a good thing for him that we came along.”
“Young man, you got off easy. We’ll not arrest you, for the people who
saw it say you were in the right.”
“I think I was, sir,” said Frank, quietly.
“Oh, Mr. Policeman!” exclaimed the lame boy, “those fellows insulted my
sister and threw me down. Nobody else dared interfere with them, but
this gentleman fought them all. He knocked down the one who insulted
Nellie.”
“If we’d got along in time, we’d gathered some of them in. You want to
look out for that gang, young fellow,” addressing Frank. “They are a
hard crowd, and they’ll try to get even with you.”
Then the officers dispersed the crowd that had gathered, and moved
along themselves.
“Oh, how can we thank you, sir?” cried the boy, getting hold of Frank’s
hand. “You were so good--and so brave!”
The girl reached out in a strange, uncertain way, saying:
“I must thank him, Jack! Where is his hand?”
“She’s blind,” explained the boy. “She’s my sister, Nell, and we’re all
alone in the world.”
“Blind?” gasped Frank, with a shock of horror. “Why, her eyes look all
right.”
“Yes; but a doctor said once that the optic nerve was injured by a fall
she received.”
“Blind?” whispered Frank, as he held both her hands and looked down
into her blue eyes. “My poor, little girl.”
Her hands trembled in his, and a thrill of sympathy seemed to pass
between them.
“Oh,” she said, gently, “I know you are good--so good! And I want to
thank you for defending me from that--that person.”
“Don’t speak of that,” murmured Frank. “It was a great satisfaction.
You are looking straight at me now. Can’t you see me at all?”
“No, sir.”
“It is strange. Your eyes look all right save for an uncertain
expression in them. Some time your sight will be restored. I feel sure
of that.”
A look of happiness came to her sweet face, and she almost panted as
she answered:
“I am so glad to hear you say so! I don’t know why, but it seems that
you must be right. It is so strange, for I feel as if I had known you
always. What is your name?”
“Frank Merriwell.”
“My name is Nellie Norton. I wish I could see you, Mr. Merriwell.”
“We are trying to get money enough together to have her eyes treated by
a great oculist,” explained the boy; “but times are hard, and people do
not have much money to spare.”
“Well, we’ll see what can be done right here,” said Frank, observing
that a number of the original crowd had returned and were standing
about.
Then he turned to them and said:
“Gentlemen, this girl is blind. She was not born that way, but
sustained an injury by a fall that affected the optical nerve. She
has been told that her sight might be restored by an operation, and,
with her brother, she is trying to get together enough money to pay a
specialist to do the work. This she and her brother have just told me,
for I never saw either of them before this evening. Now, I am poor,
and can afford no luxuries, but I can afford to give a dollar to help
this girl recover her sight. I am going to put a dollar in my hat, and
then I will pass it round. I hope others will give as much as they can
afford.”
He took off his hat and dropped a silver dollar into it. Then, talking
in his most pleasant and persuasive manner, he went round with the hat.
Every person present gave something. One old Irishwoman threw in a
dime, saying:
“Thot’s arl Oi have, an’ Oi wish it wur a hoondred dollars, so Oi do!
Me ould marn sint me out fer a can av beer, but it’s warther he’ll have
ter drink to-noight, an’ it’s jist as much good it’ll be afther doin’
av him. God bliss th’ dear girrul’s swate hearrut! an’ it’s bloind she
is? An’ she can’t see th’ skoy an’ th’ birruds an’ th’ flowers? An’
it’s me own litthle b’y as is dead now pwhat wur borrun thot way, an’
he uster be afther axin’ me pwhat things looked loike, an’ now he’s
gone foriver where he can see. It’s ounly tin cints, a dhrop in th’
bucket, but it will do th’ dear, swate girrul more good thot way than
it’ll do me ould marn roonin’ down his throat, bad cess to th’ lazy
dog!”
Then she turned and hobbled away in a hurry.
Her example led many of the others to give with the greatest
liberality, and when the money was counted and passed over to little
Nell, Frank announced that six dollars and eighteen cents had been
received.
The blind girl held out her hands to the crowd, laughing even as the
tears streamed down her face, and brokenly said:
“Oh! I thank you all so much--so much! You have been so kind to me! It
will be such a help!”
“And I thank you, too!” said the boy, his voice trembling. “Why, it’s a
small fortune! Sometimes we have worked a whole week and not received
so much; but I believe luck has turned now, and Nellie will be able to
see very soon.”
Frank was deeply touched. Then he regretted the loss of his fortune for
the first time, as it made it impossible for him to take charge of the
blind girl and see that she had the best medical attention, which he
would have done in other days.
“Can’t we do something?” asked the boy, eagerly. “We will sing
something more for you.”
He hastily adjusted the guitar, and strummed the strings a moment.
“What shall we sing, Nellie?” he asked.
“Oh, something lively--some happy song,” she answered, still laughing
through her tears.
So they sang one of the late popular songs, but the voices of both were
uncertain, and it was pathetic to witness the affection and happiness
in the boy’s eyes when he looked at his sister.
In the very middle of the song the girl broke down completely and
stopped.
“Oh!” she exclaimed; “I can’t sing! Somehow my heart is so full that
the words will not come out. But I want to thank you again and again! I
want to thank Mr. Merriwell. Where is he?”
But Frank Merriwell was gone. Stirred to the very depths of his soul,
he had hurried away while they were singing; and he walked along the
city’s streets, unmindful of his surroundings, uplifted, exalted,
strengthened for the battle of life.