THE STOLEN RIFLE.
“Now, by gwacious!” cried Archie; “I’m going to twy this wifle. Let
me have a cawd out of that pack.”
Bruce did so, and Cholly hastened to pin the card onto the tree. It
happened to be the ace of spades.
When the card was fastened to the tree, Archie retired a
respectable distance and prepared to shoot.
“Right here,” said Frank, “is where he finds out it was not his
rifle that caused his bad shooting.”
“And he is liable to want to change back after he finds it out,”
grunted Browning.
“Well, I shall change with him if he does,” said Frank.
“What? You wouldn’t give up that rifle now you have it?”
“If he wants to do so, I shall change back without a word.”
“Well, you are queer!”
Archie lifted the rifle to his shoulder and aimed long and
carefully. The weapon was seen to wobble in a way that was actually
painful to witness.
“He couldn’t hit a house!” growled Bruce, in disgust.
Then the dude fired, and, accompanied by Cholly, he hastened
forward to the tree.
A great shout went up from both city sportsmen.
“I knew it, deah boy!” cried Archie, in great delight. “Didn’t I
tell you so?”
“Is it possible he hit the tree?” muttered Browning, in surprise,
as he and Frank went forward to see what had happened.
“Look there, gentlemen!” cried Archie, proudly pointing at the
card. “That shows what I can do with a gun that will shoot, don’t
yer ’now!”
“By Jawve! it’s wonderful!” exclaimed Cholly, in amazement.
“Not at all, deah boy--not at all!” declared Archie, stiffening up.
“I knew what I could do with a good wifle.”
“Of course,” agreed Cholly, doubtingly; “but it
is--aw--ah--wemarkable what a differwunce there ith in the two
wifles.”
“Well, may I be hanged!” grunted Bruce Browning, as he stared at
the card, as if doubting the evidence of his eyes.
“He cut out the spot all right,” laughed Frank.
“I suppose such miracles do happen occasionally,” muttered the big
Yale man; “but it seems hard to believe.”
“I’ll have to give my new rifle a trial now,” said Merry, as he
took the cards from Bruce and ran them over till he came to the ace
of clubs. “We’ll see if I can shoot with it.”
“But I hope, thir,” said Archie, quickly, “that you will not expect
me to change back if you find you cawn’t hit anything with it?”
“Oh, no,” smiled Frank; “but I rather fancy it will shoot better
than you thought, Mr. Elmer.”
“I gave it a verwy good twial,” said Archie, stiffly.
“Verwy,” nodded Cholly.
The card was fastened to the tree, and then they retreated till the
spot upon it scarcely showed.
There was a hurriedly whispered conversation between the city
sportsmen as Frank took his position and prepared to shoot.
Merry secured a quick but careful aim and fired. Then, with Bruce,
he walked forward to see the result of the shot.
The result proved entirely satisfactory, for Frank had cut out the
spot on the card.
“That settles it,” said Frank. “I knew well enough that this rifle
must shoot perfectly unless it had been damaged since leaving the
factory, Mr. Elmer.”
There was no answer, and both Yale men turned to look for the city
sportsmen, expecting to find them near at hand. What was their
astonishment to see Archie and Cholly hastening away toward the
village as fast as their legs would carry them.
“Why, they didn’t wait to see the result of the shot!” exclaimed
Frank, not a little surprised.
“Huh!” grunted Browning. “It’s plain they thought you wouldn’t hit
the card; that’s why they didn’t stay.”
Frank began to laugh again.
“And I’ll wager something they were afraid I would want to trade
back, for all of what I said.”
“That’s it,” grinned Bruce. “That’s why they are running away.”
“Well, let them go. Perhaps Elmer would not have been so perfectly
satisfied with his trade had he remained to see me try this rifle.
Of course, I did not want to beat the fellow, for he had a generous
fit after my little encounter with Dugan, and he actually offered
me the weapon as a gift.”
“Under the circumstances, you may be well satisfied with what you
did, for you gave him a rifle he coveted and fifty dollars in money
in exchange for what he had offered you as a present.”
“Still, he is such a tenderfoot that it almost seems like taking an
advantage.”
Frank took a silver half-dollar from his pocket and flung it far
into the air; as it turned, glittering in the sunshine, he fired at
it, hit it, sent it flying far out into the stream.
“That is quite enough,” he decided. “Now I know this rifle will
shoot just as well as the other one. John Caribou will be well
pleased with it.”
“It will be a fine present for the Indian.”
“But not more than he deserves.”
“No.”
“I read the fellow’s character aright when I first saw him. I
have seen all sorts of Indians, and I will say that, as a rule, a
redskin can’t be trusted. The Indians of the West are treacherous,
and still, occasionally, one is found who has all the high ideas
of honor and justice entertained by the simple aborigines of early
days. When such a one is found, you may trust him with your life.
I studied Caribou, and I saw he had a good head, a kind face, and
eyes that looked squarely and frankly into my own. Then, despite
Diamond’s prejudice against the fellow, I trusted him. I do not
believe I could send him anything that would be valued more by him
than this handsome rifle.”
“You are right in that, Merry. It is because you remember your
friends and show them that you appreciate their friendship that you
have so many of them all over the country.”
“I have observed,” said Frank, slowly, “that human beings are prone
to forget friendly acts of others. They may feel grateful for a
short time, but human nature is fickle, and without meaning to be
ungrateful, a man often fails, when he has the opportunity, to
return good for good, much less good for evil. But come, let’s go
back to the hotel. It’s getting late, and I don’t know what time we
have supper. I’m rather anxious about Hans, too.”
“Oh, the Dutchman is all right. He’ll come round to-morrow. All the
matter with him is that he tried to eat everything on the table at
the hotel in Greenville.”
“He said he was trying to keep up with you,” smiled Merry.
As they entered the village they came upon Enos Dugan, who seemed
to be waiting for them. Frank watched the man narrowly, not knowing
what treachery he might attempt.
Dugan’s eyes lighted with an evil look as he saw the handsome rifle
Merriwell was carrying; his face flushed, and he stepped toward the
lads.
“So ye got it?” he growled, glaring at Frank. “All right! But I
don’t fergit that you struck me.”
That was all he said, and then he wheeled squarely about and walked
away with a swinging stride.
“I’m glad we’re going to get out of this town to-morrow, if Hans
gets able,” said Bruce. “I believe that man would kill you, Frank,
if we remained here.”
“He might do so in a fit of passion,” nodded Merry; “but I hardly
think he would do such a thing in cold blood.”
“I don’t know. He has a bad face.”
On reaching the hotel, they went directly to the room occupied by
Hans. The doctor, although he had visited the Dutch boy once before
that day, was present.
He was a young man, lately settled in Brownville, and he was
letting slip no opportunity to get as many dollars as possible out
of strangers whom he never expected to see after they left the
place.
“You will be all right to-morrow, Mr. Dunnerwust,” he was saying.
“My medicine is bringing you round.”
“Vale,” grunted Hans, “I peen dot much a hurry in to got vell,
toctor, dot I vould took your medicines if I knewed it vould kill
me.”
At this the doctor laughed heartily, and Frank, coming in, paid
him for his call. The doctor was something of a sportsman, and he
expressed great admiration for the rifle, which Merry stood in a
corner of the room.
“I think it is the handsomest weapon I ever saw,” he said.
“_Yaw_,” said Hans, “id peen der handsomest vepons I nefer sawed,
und I never sawed dot. Shust holdt it ub so id can seen me,
Vrankie.”
So Merriwell held the rifle up for the Dutch boy’s inspection,
telling him how he came to get it and what he intended to do with
it.
“That is very generous of you,” said the physician. “Caribou is a
good guide. I was up in the woods last fall, and he was one of the
guides for our party. He went out with me one day, and got me two
fine deer that I should not have seen at all. Both times he gave me
the chance to shoot, and I was fortunate enough to get my game. He
can do some good work with that old large bore rifle of his, but he
will be delighted to get a new one like this.”
The doctor told some stories of his adventures in the woods, and
soon the supper bell rang.
“I’ll leave the rifle here in the room with you, Hans,” said Frank,
as he went out, following the others.
“All righdt, Vrankie; id vill vatch me, so I vill peen safe. Don’d
let me vorry apout dot.”
But when Frank Merriwell returned from supper he found Hans fast
asleep, and the rifle----
Was gone!
Frank looked all round the room for it, thinking it possible Hans
had arisen and looked at the weapon while they were down to supper,
leaving it in some other place when he had finished inspecting it.
It was not to be found.
“What’s the matter, Merry?” grunted Browning, who had lazily
followed Frank to the room, Diamond and Hodge having gone out for
a stroll.
“Matter!” cried Frank. “Matter enough! My new rifle has vanished.
It is gone!”
“Gone?” echoed Bruce, in a dazed way. “How can that be?”
“Some person must have taken it!”
Then Frank shook Hans, awakening him.
“Have you touched my rifle since I left it in that corner?” he
asked, as the Dutch lad stared up at him stupidly.
“Vot?” mumbled Hans. “Haf der rifle touched me? Vale, I guess
nod! Der ped haf peen righd here in me all der dime, so der rifle
couldn’t touch me uf I tried. Vot vos der madder?”
“It is gone! Somebody has taken it away!”
“How could it haf daken somepody avay?” exclaimed the Dutch boy,
sitting upright. “I has peen here vatching myselluf dot rifle mit
all der dime!”
“Little watching you have done!” exclaimed Bruce. “You were fast
asleep. Some person slipped in here and took the rifle while you
were sleeping.”
“You don’d pelief me!” gasped Hans. “I don’d see how dot rifle
could took anypody right from der room oudt dot vay.”
Merriwell lost no time in hastening down to the office and telling
the landlord what had happened. Browning thought it barely possible
that Archie Elmer might have repented of his trade and sought to
recover his rifle, but this turned out untrue. And a thorough
search of the hotel failed to bring about the discovery of the
rifle.
“It has been stolen, Merriwell,” said Browning, grimly, “and you
must suspect who took it.”
“I do!” came grimly from Merriwell’s lips. “We will search for Enos
Dugan.”
Nowhere in Brownville could Dugan be found. Rifle and man had
vanished together.
“But I will have that rifle back, even though I have to chase him
into Canada!” vowed Merriwell.