FRANK BECOMES ALARMED.
"For stealing?"
Frank's astonishment was so great that he found it difficult to utter
the words.
"Yes," nodded Bart, gloomily, "for stealing a watch."
"But--but I know you never did such a----The man who would think such
a thing ought to be shot!"
"The watch was found on my person," said Bart, slowly.
"Found on you, was it? I don't care! I know you didn't steal it.
Nothing could make me believe that."
A gleam of satisfaction seemed to pierce the fierce look on Hodge's
face, as a shaft of sunshine sometimes pierces a black and sullen
cloud.
"You are right, Merriwell," he said; "I did not steal it. Give me your
hand. Oh, it is good--so good to have some one in the world who has
confidence in me! It has seemed of late that everybody was down on
me."
He grasped Frank's hand, and pressed it warmly.
"You have been up against hard luck, old friend," came feelingly from
Frank. "And the girl shook you quite after you were arrested?"
"Yes."
"Were you tried?"
"Yes."
"Convicted?"
"No."
"Still she threw you over?"
"She did."
"Well, you are dead lucky! Such a girl is not worth thinking about!
Don't let that break you up, Hodge."
"Wait," said Bart. "I have not told you all."
"Go on."
"I was arrested in one of the most notorious gambling houses in
Carson."
It was plain that the confession cost Hodge much, for his shame was
evident, and he hastily added:
"Give it to me, Merriwell! I deserve it! Blow me up!"
"I shall do nothing of the kind," said Frank, slowly, "although I am
very sorry to hear what you have told me. Were you in that house to
play?"
"Yes."
"That is the bad part of it, for you know you can't let gambling alone
once you get at it. I had hoped you were free of your old bad habits."
"You never hoped so more than I!" cried Bart. "But it's no use--I
can't reform. Davis induced me to go to the gambling house, and then
he dropped me like a live coal when I was pinched."
"But you said they proved nothing against you."
"No, they could not prove anything, for I proved that I bought the
watch of a young man who offered it to me at a bargain. That cleared
me of that charge."
"But Vida Milburn threw you down just as hard?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Don't you see, I was arrested in a gambling house while playing
roulette. She had seen me when I appeared to be drunk. That was
enough. Even though I did not steal, I drank and gambled. Her aunt
forbade her seeing me. She sent back my presents, and told me we must
become as strangers. Two months later she married Hart Davis."
Frank's hand fell on the shoulder of his old-time friend.
"It was hard luck, Hodge," he said, in a straightforward manner, "and
you were not entirely blameless. At the same time, it is certain that
girl did not care for you as she should, and she might have made you
miserable if you had won her. The girl who really loves a fellow will
believe in him and his honor till there is not a single tattered
remnant of his reputation to which she can pin her faith. I tell you,
old chum, you may congratulate yourself that you got off as you did."
"I have tried to do so," said Hodge, "and I resolved to be a man and
forget her. But it was harder to forget than I dreamed, and then, when
I was beginning to forget, that other came upon me again."
"That other? What other?"
"Her half-sister."
"Isa Isban?"
"Yes."
"You met Isa?"
"In Sacramento."
"And she looks as she did long ago--just as handsome?"
"A hundred times more so!" cried Bart, his eyes kindling and a flush
suffusing his cheeks. "Merriwell, she is the handsomest girl I ever
knew!"
Frank whistled, regarding Bart searchingly and uneasily.
"What's this? what's this?" he exclaimed. "What has she been doing
with you? Why, hang me if I don't believe--I know you were hard hit by
her!"
"I was," confessed Bart, flushing still more. "When I first saw her I
thought her Vida, but she seemed to have grown more beautiful than
ever, and I could not help looking at her. Then I discovered there was
a difference--I saw it was not Vida but Isa. When I spoke to her she
remembered me, and then--well, we became very friendly. I told her
everything, and she laughed. She said Vida was too soft for
anything--said the old aunt made Vida do anything she wished, and the
girl hadn't spirit enough to do as she desired. She said she would
stick to a fellow if she loved him even though he were jailed for
twenty years. There was spirit, dash, go about her, Merriwell! She
fascinated me. I saw in her what I had missed in Vida."
Frank shook his head in a very sober manner.
"My dear fellow," he said, "do you remember Isa had a husband?"
"Yes, but he is dead," said Bart, quickly.
"I know that; but do you remember the sort of fellow he was?"
"Of course; he was a counterfeiter."
"Exactly, and Isa 'shoved the queer' for him. She didn't do a thing to
me the first time we met. I changed a fifty-dollar bill for her, and
when I tried to pass the bill I came near being arrested. You remember
that?"
"Sure."
"I hardly think that is the sort of girl you wish to get stuck on, old
boy."
"I don't know about that," said Bart, rather defiantly. "She stuck to
her husband through thick and thin, and I think all the more of her
for it."
Frank was alarmed.
"My dear fellow," he cried, "you are an easy mark. That girl is
shrewd--altogether too shrewd for you to match your wits against hers.
She will play you for a fool--I am sure of it."
Bart reddened again and then turned very pale, his manner indicating
great embarrassment. He drew from Frank a bit, and something in his
air added to Merriwell's alarm.
"I hope you haven't been very friendly with Isa Isban," Frank said.
"I might have been more friendly, but she had a foolish idea that it
would injure me if I were seen with her often."
"She had such an idea?"
"Yes; and that goes to show the girl's heart is all right. She had
consideration for me."
Frank bit his lip and scowled.
"It is remarkable," he confessed. "Are you sure it was out of
consideration for you that she did not wish you seen with her?"
"Sure? Of course."
"It seems strange. It seems that the kind of life she has led with
that reckless coiner husband would be sure to make her careless of
others--make her hard and heartless."
"It is not strange you think so, Merriwell; but it is because you do
not know her. I honor and respect her for standing by her husband,
even when she knew he was a rascal, and I believe she has a heart and
soul a thousand times more noble than the heart and soul of her
half-sister."
"Bad, bad!" exclaimed Frank. "Look here, Bart, you must go along with
me. That is settled. Isa Isban will ruin you if you do not escape from
her influence."
A look of indignation settled on Hodge's face, and he drew away.
"If you knew her well, Frank, I would not pardon you for saying that
about her; but, as you know nothing about her, I will overlook it.
But, old fellow, please don't speak of Miss Isban in that way."
"Miss Isban? Her name is Mrs. Scott; her husband's name was Paul
Scott."
"I know, but she has resumed her maiden name since his death. She
calls herself Miss Isban now. You should see her, Merriwell. She looks
like a sweet girl graduate--a girl of eighteen, and----"
"She must be twenty-one or two."
"I don't know, and I don't care. She does not look it, and I believe
she is a splendid girl. I honor and respect her."
"Great Scott!" thought Frank; "Hodge is in the greatest peril of his
life! I am sure of it. I am sure that girl will work his utter
downfall if he is not saved from her influence. It is my duty to find
a way to save him. I will!"
When Frank made up his mind to do a thing, he bent all his energies to
accomplish the end. In the past Hodge had been easily influenced, but
he felt sure Isa Isban had a hold on the lad that could not be broken
with ease. The task must be accomplished by clever work.
"Where is she now?" Merry asked.
"I don't know."
"Don't? How is that?"
"Well, you see, I--I left Sacramento rather--rather suddenly,"
faltered Bart.
"Suddenly? Explain it, old chum. Why did you leave Sacramento
suddenly? I trust you did not get into trouble there?"
Hodge ground his heel into the ground, seeming quite occupied in
digging a hole in that manner. Suddenly he started and listened.
"A horse is coming this way--up the trail!" he exclaimed. "It is
coming at a hot pace, as if hard ridden."
"Let it come. That needn't bother us. Answer my questions, Bart. You
know I am your friend, and there should be perfect trust and no
secrets between close friends."
But Hodge did not seem to hear those words. He was listening to the
hoofbeats of the galloping horse, and his face had grown pale.
"Look here, Merriwell," he hastily exclaimed, "the rider of that horse
may be a person I do not care to meet."
Bart got up hastily, and Frank arose, saying:
"You needn't be afraid of him. The other boys are good fighters, and
there is no single man in this country that can do you up while you
are with this crowd. We will stand by you."
"It's not that; you don't understand. I must not be seen. I'll get out
of sight, and you must bluff him off, if he asks about me. That's all.
Here he comes!"
A glimpse of the horseman was obtained as he flitted along between the
great trees.
Immediately Hodge slipped behind a tree, and lost no time in getting
out of view.
The horseman came on swiftly, and the boys saw that he was a large man
with a grizzled beard that had once been coal black. He was roughly
dressed, with his pantaloons tucked into his boots.
As he approached the man eyed the boys closely. Close at hand he drew
up, saying in a harsh voice:
"Wa-al, who are you, and whatever are yer doing here?"