CHAPTER XVIII.

OLD FRIENDS.

"We are a set of jolly, jolly lads,

As we ride--as we ride away!

You bet we're up to date, but are no cads,

As we ride--as we ride away!

We've crossed the plains and scaled the Rockies high,

And now hurrah! for 'Frisco's town is nigh;

We sing as toward that port we swiftly fly,

As we ride--as we ride away!"

Through a California forest of monster trees our five boys were

riding, and they sang as they rode, their voices blending beautifully

and making the old woods echo with sweet music.

To them it seemed that all the perils of the trip were past and San

Francisco was in view, although in truth, it was more than two hundred

miles away by the route they would be compelled to follow.

It was a perfect day, with the sun shining from a cloudless sky, as it

always seems to shine in California. It was warm, but not too hot for

comfort, and the road through the forest was fairly good, winding to

the right and then to the left beneath the shadows of the great trees.

"If this road wasn't so crooked, we wouldn't have to travel so far,"

groaned Browning, his manner being so dismal that the others broke

into a shout of laughter.

"You shouldn't kick about this road," smiled Frank. "I've seen a road

much more crooked than this."

"It must have been pretty crooked."

"It was so crooked that when you started to ride on it you'd meet

yourself coming back."

"Yow!" whooped Rattleton. "That's the worst I ever heard! A man should

be put behind bars for perpetrating anything like that."

"I don't think I'd like to be put behind bars," confessed Merry.

"Huah!" grunted Bruce. "There are others. Why, I know fellows who want

to be in front of bars all the time."

"You mean they drink incessantly?"

"No, I mean they drink whiskey."

"Yah! yah! yah!" shouted Toots, his shrill laugh awaking the echoes.

"Nebber heard Mistah Brownin' say nuffin' funny as dat befo'! Dat teks

de cake!"

"I wouldn't mind taking a small cake," said the big fellow. "This

California air makes me hungry."

"Land ob wartermillions! yo's alwus hungry, Mistah Brownin', sar. Yo's

been eatin' all de way 'crost de country."

"That's right," was Browning's confession. "And there was one strip of

country where they didn't seem to have anything to eat but corn beef

and cabbage. I actually ate so much corn beef and cabbage that I was

ashamed to look a cow in the face."

"Well, we'll soon be in San Francisco, the greatest city in all this

Western land," put in Frank. "There we can get almost any kind of feed

we like. Why, I know a restaurant where we'll be able to get 'genuine

Boston baked beans.'"

"You know a place?" questioned Diamond. "You know? Look here, Frank

Merriwell, what is there you don't know about? Have you been

everywhere and seen everything?"

"Not by a long distance, but I have been in San Francisco."

"Well, it seems to me that we never mention a place that you don't

know all about. You were perfectly familiar with Carson City."

"Yes, I had been there before, and it is a place I shall not soon

forget, for it was there I last saw my old chum of Fardale, Bart

Hodge."

"You have spoken of him often of late."

"Yes; I have been thinking of him very much. It is natural, as I am

near where I saw him last. Dear old fellow! How we fought in the old

days when we first met! And, after that, what firm friends we became!

Hodge had his failings, but he was white at heart. He would lay down

his life for a friend. His parents were wealthy, and they had indulged

him in everything he desired, till he was completely spoiled and they

could do nothing with him. Fardale was noted as a place where just

such fellows were taken and broken into the traces, and so his father

sent him there. Hodge didn't do a thing at first--oh, no! not a thing!

He raised merry thunder, and he hated me with a virulent hatred. He

tried to injure me in every way he could devise, but when I pulled him

out of several bad scrapes, incidentally saving his life, he began to

see that he was in the wrong. He had a fierce battle to overcome his

natural inclination to do dirty things, but overcome it he did, and he

became fairly popular in time, although no one knew him and understood

him like myself. Between us there was a perfect understanding, and I

could control him when he would not listen to reason from any other

person."

"I believe you were stuck on Hodge!" said Diamond, somewhat piqued.

"No more than I am on any of my true friends," answered Frank.

"It seems you put yourself to lots of trouble with him."

"I did; but I fancied there was the making of a fine man in him, and I

felt that it was a shame to see a chap go to the dogs. Several times

he came near being fired from Fardale, for they could do nothing with

him. If he had been fired, his father would have forced him to hustle

for himself. With a boy of Hodge's nature that must have meant ruin,

as he would have fallen in with fast companions, would have required

money, and would have obtained it by some means or other. If his

companions had been crooked, Hodge, although his nature would have

rebelled against anything dishonest, would have become crooked also.

He told me that, and he said I was his good angel."

"Hang it, Merry!" spluttered Rattleton; "you've been a good angel for

lots of us. It seems that every fellow who sticks by you gets on

better than he ever did before."

"I'm a mascot," laughed Frank. "Follow me and you'll wear diamonds--or

something else."

"There's no doubt about it," grunted Browning. "We'll be arrested if

we don't. Can't go naked in this country."

"Yah!" cried Toots. "Don' yo' try so hard to say somefin' funny,

Mistah Brownin', fo' dat is where yo' meks a mistook, sar. Yo' falls

do'n on yo'se'f, an' yo' don' get funny at all."

"Thanks, my colored counsellor," murmured the big fellow. "You have a

shocking habit of giving advice when it isn't asked. I wouldn't do it

so much if I were you."

"Choke off, Toots," advised Frank.

"All right, sar--all right," muttered the colored boy; "but I knows

what I knows--yes, sar. It done do some of de crowd good if dey took

mah advice, sar."

The boys admired the trees and the weather, and they were supremely

happy. All were hearty and healthy, with muscles as hard as iron and

eyes clear as the eagle's.

Browning, although still stout and sturdy, had worked himself down to

a hard, healthy condition, and was really a stunningly handsome

fellow. There was about him a suggestion of great strength, and almost

any man might have hesitated about facing him in anger.

As Merriwell was one who constantly kept himself in perfect condition,

it cannot be said that he was looking better than when the party left

New York, although he, like the others, was tanned by exposure to all

sorts of weather.

As the party came around a bend of the road, they saw another young

bicyclist, who was standing beside his wheel, somewhat uneasily

regarding their approach.

"Hello!" exclaimed Diamond. "Here's a fellow traveler."

Frank took off his cap and waved it about his head, but the stranger

did not answer the salute.

"Some way he doesn't seem at all pleased to see us," said Rattleton.

"It may be the way with Californians," said Diamond.

"Anyhow we'll stop and ask him a few questions," Merriwell said. "At

least, he can't refuse to answer us, if we are civil."

So, as the boys came up, they slackened their speed and prepared to

dismount. To their surprise the stranger made preparations to mount,

as if he contemplated riding away if they stopped.

"He's going to run away," grunted Bruce, in disgust.

"Hold on," urged Merriwell, addressing the stranger. "We want to talk

with you."

Then the boys sprang off their wheels.

To their surprise, the stranger suddenly held out his hand, almost

shouting:

"It is Frank Merriwell, or my eyes can't see straight!"

"Bart Hodge, as I live!" cried Frank, grasping the outstretched hand.

Frank Merriwell's Alarm; Or, Doing His Best · 第 18 / 25 章