IN PURSUIT.
“Vanceborough! Vanceborough!” cried the brakeman on the
accommodation train that was rattling into the little village on
the west bank of the St. Croix.
Beyond the river lay New Brunswick. Vanceborough was the last town
on the American side.
As the train drew up at the station, Frank Merriwell, an alligator
skin grip in his hand, swung down from the steps.
He was quite alone, and he looked dusty and tired, but there was a
determined expression on his face.
“Is there a telegraph office in the station?” he asked, speaking to
a small boy who was looking at him curiously.
“Sure,” answered the urchin, promptly. “Feller that looks after
it’s seein’ to the freight now, though. He’ll go in soon’s the
train leaves.”
“Where is he?”
“Right over there.”
The boy pointed out the operator, and Frank gave him a quarter. The
urchin stared at the piece of silver with bulging eyes, forgetting,
in his astonishment, to even say thank you.
“Crickey!” he finally gasped. “That chap must have money to throw
at ther birds!”
Then he scudded away to spend the quarter at the nearest store.
As soon as the operator went into the office, Frank sent this
message to Brownville, Me.:
“MR. BRUCE BROWNING: Traced Dugan to Vanceborough. Shall try to
recover rifle. Party come on to Mattawamkeag, and wait for me
there.
“FRANK MERRIWELL.”
Then he inquired the way to the hotel.
Frank was tired. By sharp detective work, he had discovered
that Dugan had hired a team at Henderson, the nearest town to
Brownville, the very night the rifle was stolen, and was driven
to Lake View. The following morning Frank learned that the thief
belonged over around Grand Lake, on the New Brunswick line. Then it
came about that Merry had traced his man to Vanceborough. Advices
received by him at Mattawamkeag from an officer in Vanceborough
stated that Enos had arrived there and left for parts unknown on
the lake steamer.
At the hotel Merry registered and asked when dinner would be ready.
Finding he had almost an hour to wait, he inquired for the officer
from whom he had obtained information concerning Dugan.
In a little while the officer appeared at the hotel, accompanied by
the boy who had been sent for him.
A brief talk with this man convinced Frank that Dugan had his
rifle beyond doubt, although the thief was carrying it wrapped in
a blanket.
“Dugan lives up around Forest City somewhere,” said the officer.
“He is a rough fellow, and has a bad reputation. Although nothing
has ever been proved against him, it is said he is a smuggler. I
don’t know that anyone around here is sure just where he does live,
but I’ve heard he has a handsome daughter who is often seen in
Forest City.”
“Which is the best way to get to Forest City?” asked Frank.
“There are but two ways. You can take a train back to Forest
Station, and hire a team there to carry you up onto the Peninsula;
or you can take the lake steamer here, which will carry you
straight there.”
“How far is it from Forest Station to Forest City?”
“About seventeen miles over the roughest road you ever struck.”
“Then you think I had better go by boat?”
“Yep; that’s the best way.”
“When does the boat leave?”
“Noon to-morrow, if she gets in on time to-night.”
“Great Scott! I don’t want to waste all that time.”
“You look as if you needed it to get rested in; but, if you’ll take
my advice, you won’t follow Enos Dugan up into that section.”
“Why not?”
“The chances are about five to one that you’ll never be heard from
again if you do. You’ll disappear.”
“What?” cried Frank. “Has Dugan such a reputation as that? Why, I
should think he’d be taken care of by the officers.”
“It’s never been possible to prove anything against him. One or
two government officers, looking for smugglers, have vanished very
mysteriously after going up the lake. It is thought that Dugan
knows something of what happened to them, but nobody can tell.
They’re afraid of him up there, and nobody dares say anything
against him. If they know anything, they keep still. Every little
while he goes off somewhere, and it’s said he disposes of the stuff
that has been smuggled over the line. He’s just returned from one
of those trips.”
“Well, Mr. Dugan is turning out to be a far more interesting
individual than I imagined he could be when I first saw him,”
declared Merry.
“Oh, he’s interesting enough, but he’s dangerous. You’ll be spotted
as soon as you go up there. If you take my advice, you’ll let that
rifle go.”
“What’s that? Not try to recover my rifle?”
“Better lose a rifle than lose your life.”
“I vowed I’d recover that rifle at any cost when I found it was
stolen. I shall not be scared out of making a determined attempt to
keep that vow.”
“Well, I’m speaking for your good, young man. Dugan is connected
with a gang. It’ll not be a case of coping with one man; there will
be five or six against you.”
“The more the merrier,” said Frank, grimly, without the least
swagger or air of bravado. “I will have that rifle!”
“All right. I’ve warned you, that’s all I can do.”
“I’d like to hire you to go along with me.”
Instantly the man shook his head.
“Can’t,” he shortly declared.
“Why not? Your authority will permit you if Forest City is in this
county.”
“Oh, Forest City is in Washington all right; but it’s close to the
line, and no trouble for a man to get over into Aroostook or to
jump into New Brunswick. If you get back that rifle, you’ll have to
do it on your own hook.”
It was plain that the officer did not care to take any part in the
pursuit of Dugan. He showed that he, like others, feared the man
with the bad reputation.
“All right,” said Merriwell, stiffly. “I’ll get the rifle, and I’ll
do it alone. How far does the steamer run?”
“To the head of the lake.”
“What other places are there up that way?”
“Weston, South Bancroft and Orient on the west side of the lake;
Pemberton Ridge and North Lake on the New Brunswick side.”
“All small places?”
“Yes.”
“How much do I owe you for the trouble you have taken?”
“No trouble, young fellow; so you don’t owe me anything. But take
my advice, stay here and get a good rest to-night. You can go up
the lake on the steamer to-morrow and have a fine sail. Perhaps you
will not be able to get a team at Forest Station to land you in
Forest City to-night if you go there. You are taking chances.”
“This seems to be a game of chance, anyway,” laughed Frank; “but I
am bound to play it to the limit.”
Frank remained in Vanceborough and slept well that night, which
really put him in “fighting trim.”
It was with great difficulty that he repressed his impatience the
following morning. It seemed hard to wait for the steamer, and
he was tempted to try to reach Forest City by land. However, the
landlord advised him to go by water, and so he waited.
Just before time for the steamer to sail, Frank, who was standing
on the upper deck, watching the freight as it was taken on board,
saw a handsome young lady and a ministerial-looking young man come
down the plank. The young lady was scarcely more than a girl, for
she was not over eighteen or nineteen. She had red lips, dark hair
and eyes, a stunning figure, and was dressed in a stylish gown. In
her arms she carried a tiny black and tan dog.
Frank was struck by the appearance of this girl, for, despite her
stylish clothes and decidedly “swagger” appearance, there was that
about the healthy tint on her checks that told she was not merely a
common rusticator from a city, who had ventured out in the sunshine
for the sole purpose of getting a “tan” that would tell her friends
she had been spending her vacation in the country. Besides that,
although she seemed demure enough at first glance, Frank instantly
decided that she was rather reckless in her ways and “had a temper
of her own.”
The ministerial-looking young man was dressed in black clothes,
with a long coat and silk hat. He carried a cane. His face was
rather long and solemn. Plainly he was the girl’s companion and
escort.
These two passengers took a seat aft, and, a little later, as Frank
was strolling around, the man was saying to the girl:
“I feel that I have been called to carry the Word to these
out-of-the-way places. It is my mission, and I am performing it
according to my light. I have been blessed wonderfully in my labors
up this way, for I have won the hearts of many sinners by my
methods of traveling from house to house and calling the people to
repentance. I am certain I shall yet be able to prevail upon your
father to make a move on the road that leads to everlasting life.”
“Well, you may,” said the girl; “but I have my doubts, Elder Jones.”
“You must assist me in my efforts to soften his heart.”
Frank passed on, so he was unable to hear more of the conversation,
but now he was satisfied that the young man was a minister, just as
he appeared.
At last the boat started, and soon Vanceborough was left behind.
Frank strolled about restlessly, but finally settled down aft,
finding the minister and the girl had gone inside. He enjoyed the
magnificent scenery as the boat ran up one of the most beautiful of
the Maine lakes. So absorbed was he that he scarcely noticed the
return of the couple that had interested him so much.
His attention was called to them by a ringing laugh from the
girl. He looked up to discover that she was gazing straight at
him. Their eyes met, and, after one brief glance, her dark lashes
drooped.
There was something about that glance that caused Frank’s heart to
give a thump, for there was deep meaning in it. The drooping of the
eyelashes was the most artistic coquetry. It was apparent that this
handsome girl was inclined to flirt, and she had been attracted by
the manly-looking stranger.
But Frank was not the only one who had seen the glance and
understood its meaning. The girl’s companion intercepted it, and
he glanced round at Frank in a sour manner, after which he said
something to the girl in a low tone. His words brought a rebellious
curl to her lips, and then, as if in defiance of her companion, she
gave Merriwell a pronounced smile.
Then the minister was angry, for his thin face flushed, and he
looked as if he longed to do something to Merriwell. He got up and
started to go away, but seemed to change his mind, for he sat down
again, which brought another laugh from the girl.
Merry was amused, but he felt that he was certain to cause trouble
if he remained. Still he would not rise and leave at once, as that
would seem as if he had run away. He resolved to remain a short
time, but he would give his entire attention to the scenery. With
one last look at the girl, who was caressing the little dog, which
she still held in her arms, he turned away.
It was plain enough after that that the girl made several attempts
to attract Merry’s eyes. She had a laugh that was not exactly
“cultivated,” but there was something alluring about it, and it
made Frank feel more and more that he wanted to know her.
But it was plain enough that the minister was in love with her
himself, or was watching over her as he believed to be his duty;
and so, although the society of a bright, pretty girl would have
been very pleasant on the trip up the lake, Merry gave her no
further attention.
After a time the girl seemed piqued by her non-success with the
attractive stranger. She began to tease her companion. Before long
it seemed that a quarrel was taking place between them. She turned
her back to him and caressed the little dog.
Suddenly there was a scream, and the girl jumped up, wildly crying:
“Save him! Oh! save him!”
Frank was startled. His first thought was that the minister, in
a fit of desperation, had thrown himself into the lake; but the
moment he turned his head, he saw this was not true, for Elder
Jones was still there.
The man and girl had leaped to their feet and were looking over the
stern of the steamer. Frank looked back along the wake made by the
boat, and he saw the little black and tan dog bobbing in the water
like a cork.
Then a remarkable thing happened.
Having made a frantic appeal to her companion, the girl saw he had
no thought of taking any kind of risk in order to save the little
dog, and, the next moment, she leaped upon the seat and dived
headlong over the rail into the water!