BART HODGE MAKES A CONFESSION.
It was Bart Hodge!
How they did shake hands! Strangely enough, neither of them laughed,
but there was a look of joy on their faces that told of satisfaction
and delight too great for laughter.
"Merriwell, old man," said Hodge, his voice unsteady with emotion, "I
can scarcely believe it is true! It seems too good to be true!"
"Hodge!" exclaimed Frank, "there is fate in this. I was speaking of
you not more than ten minutes ago."
"Speaking of me?"
"Sure."
"Then you had not forgotten me?"
"Forgotten you?" came reproachfully from Frank--"you should know I am
not the kind of fellow to forget my friends."
"That's right," nodded Bart, quickly; "you always did stick to your
friends through thick and thin."
"Yes, through thick and thin, old chum."
"But it is most astonishing to see you away out here in this part of
the country. Where did you drop from?"
"Oh, we are on a little run across the country," smiled Merry. "We
started from New York, and we're bound for San Francisco. Permit me to
introduce my friends."
Then he presented the others of the party in turn, and Bart shook
hands with them all, expressing his satisfaction at meeting them, but
seeming rather reserved and uneasy. Frank observed that Hodge turned
his head to glance down the road now and then as if expecting the
appearance of some one or something.
"So you're Hart Bodge--I mean Bart Hodge?" said Harry, as he was
introduced. "Well, I'm glad to know you. Merry has talked about you
ever since I first met him at Yale. He has told everything about you."
"If that is true, I'm afraid you have not formed a very good opinion
of me," said Hodge, somewhat gloomily.
"On the contrary, I have formed a very good opinion of you," assured
Rattleton.
"Then it can't be Merry has told you everything."
Frank was not a little surprised by Bart's manner, for Hodge had been
a fellow who could not easily suppress his self-conceit, and it had
always been his desire to impress strangers with the idea that he was
something quite out of the ordinary.
A vague feeling that something was wrong with Bart seized upon
Merriwell.
"You're not well, old man," he said. "I know it. Don't say you are."
"Never was better in all my life."
"But something is the trouble--I can see that."
"Oh, no!" assured Bart; "you are mistaken, I assure you."
But, for all of these words, Frank was not satisfied, as Bart's manner
had plainly betrayed the fact that he was trying to conceal something.
"Which way are you traveling?" Frank asked.
"East."
"Too bad! We are going the other way, and I hoped you'd go along."
"Oh, no! it is impossible," Hodge quickly asserted.
"Business important?"
"Well, it is--er--somewhat so."
"Where are you from last?"
"Oh, I've been traveling--yes, traveling," answered Bart, vaguely.
"Now, look here!" cried Merry, decisively; "you've got to travel with
us, old man. I won't take no for an answer, for I believe you can do
it. You'll turn about and go to San Francisco with us."
"That's right; come on," cried the others.
Bart shook his head.
"Can't do it--I can't. You don't know--I can't explain--now."
"Do you think this is using me just right?" asked Frank,
reproachfully. "You'll find us a jolly crowd, and we'll have dead
loads of sport. We've made a quick run across, and we can take our
time going back. None of the fellows are obliged to hurry home. Come
along with us, Bart, and we'll do you good."
Something like a smile flitted over Hodge's serious face.
"You are the same old Merriwell," he said. "It has done me good to see
you a little while, Frank."
"It will do you more good to see me longer, and it'll do me good to
have you come with me. Come along."
Bart wavered. It was plain enough that he longed to go, but, for some
reason, he hesitated.
Frank passed an arm about Hodge's shoulders, saying, gently but
firmly:
"You've got to do it; you can't get out of it, old chum."
A wave of feeling fled across Hodge's face, and there was something
like a suspicious quiver of his sensitive chin.
"You do not understand," he slowly murmured. "I'd like to have a talk
with you, Frank. I--I might tell you----"
"That's right," said Harry, heartily. "Old friends like you chaps want
a chance to talk over old matters and things. Excuse us. We're going
to find a chance to stretch our weary limbs on the ground. Browning
has an attack of that tired feeling, and he will fall asleep in his
tracks if he doesn't recline without delay."
"Huah!" grunted Bruce.
Then the boys withdrew, leaving Hodge and Merriwell together.
Bart seemed embarrassed and uneasy. He glanced at Frank slyly, as if
in doubt, which Merry did not fail to note, although pretending not to
observe it.
They sat down near the foot of a monster tree, against which they
could lean in a comfortable position as they chatted. The great forest
of redwood trees was all about them, and a Sabbath peace brooded over
the gentle slope of the Sierras.
"Well, Bart," said Frank, insinuatingly, "I trust things are going
well with you?"
A sudden change came over Hodge. A fierce look of rage came to his
face and his eyes blazed, while his voice was harsh and unpleasant, as
he cried:
"Things are not going well with me! Everything has gone wrong! Oh,
I've had infernal luck! I know I was born under an unlucky star, and
the only time I ever did get along was when you and I were together at
Fardale."
"Then stick by me, and change your luck again."
"I'd like to do it, but you are going the wrong way."
"What's the odds? There is no reason why you should not turn back
and----"
"There is a reason."
"Of course I do not know about that, but----"
"Listen, Frank; you remember Isa Isban?"
"Yes, and Vida Milburn, Isa's half-sister, with whom you were in love.
I distinctly remember that Vida was a beautiful and charming girl."
Hodge's teeth ground together with a nerve-tingling, grating sound,
and his face was set as stone, although his eyes still blazed.
"Yes, a beautiful girl--a charming girl!" he admitted, but with
sarcasm that could not be mistaken.
"What's the matter? Where is Vida now?"
"I don't know, and I don't care a rap!"
"Oh, say! I think I tumble. It is a case of lovers' quarrel. Now, now,
now! Don't be foolish, my boy! It will come out all right. You know
true love persistently refuses to run smooth. You'll make it all up in
time."
Hodge grinned, but there was nothing of mirth in the expression. It
seemed to Frank as if some wild animal had shown its teeth.
"Oh, yes, it will come out all right!" he sneered. "We'll make it all
up in time! It's too late, Merriwell."
"You think so, that's all."
"I know so. She's married!"
Frank gasped.
"Married?"
"Yes."
"Married? Why, she is a mere girl! And you--where do you come in?"
"I'm not in it, and I think I'm lucky. That's not worrying me."
"But how--how did it happen? Why did you throw her over? or why did
she go back on you?"
"I'm not going to tell the whole story now, Frank; but the fact is
that she lacked faith in me. I rather think I'm dead lucky to get out
of it, for she was rather weak and fickle. You know her half-sister,
Isa Isban, although stunningly handsome, is wild and reckless. She was
married to a gambler and maker of crooked money."
"But he is dead--was shot, and Isa disappeared."
"Well, she has reappeared, but I'll tell you about that later. It's
Vida I wish to tell you about now. You know Vida's old uncle and aunt
never did have a high opinion of me."
"Not till they discovered that you were a brave and honorable fellow.
Then they seemed to turn about and think you one of the finest chaps
in the world."
"They got over it," Hodge sneered. "They came to think me anything but
brave and honorable. They believed me a drunkard, a gambler and a
thief!"
Frank was shocked, and he showed it.
"Impossible!" he cried. "How could they think such a thing of you?
They had no reason to think so!"
Bart turned crimson till it extended all over his face and neck.
"You don't know, Merry," he muttered, positively showing shame. "I'm
not like you--I make a bad break sometimes. It is hard for me to
resist temptation, and--well, I was tempted, and I succumbed. That's
all."
"Succumbed? What do you mean? I know your heart is right, old fellow,
and you did not do anything wrong intentionally."
"Appearances were against me--I confess it. First--well, I was seen
drunk. That is, I seemed to be drunk, but I swear to you that I had
not taken but one drink, and that was not enough to knock out a
ten-year-old boy. It was drugged, Frank--I know it!"
"Drugged? Who did such a villainous trick?"
"My enemy--a young fellow who loved Vida. He has a father who's got
the rocks. He's older than I, and I thought him my friend. I met him
at her home. His name is Hart Davis."
"The whelp! But did Vida see you?"
"Yes. I had been out with Davis that night. In the morning I was found
on the steps of Vida's home, apparently dead drunk."
"How came you there?"
"I didn't know at the time. Since then--well, it is settled in my
mind. Davis said I left him to go to the place where I was boarding in
Carson City. He said I seemed to be all right when I left him, and so
he let me go. He appeared very shocked to think such a misfortune had
happened me: but--burn him!--I believe he gave me knock-out drops--I
believe he carried me to that house--I believe he left me on the
steps, where I was found!"
Frank's eyes were blazing now, and the look on his expressive face
told how he felt toward Mr. Hart Davis.
"And did Vida throw you over for that?" he asked, in an indignant
manner.
"Not entirely for that. She was very shocked and cold toward me, but
when I was arrested----"
"Arrested?" gasped Frank. "Arrested for what?"
"For stealing a watch."