WORDS OF WARNING.
“Hilda Dugan! Hilda Dugan!”
Frank repeated the name in a dazed way, as he sought the captain.
That worthy met him.
“Needn’t bother to change,” he said. “You may keep the togs till
yours are dry, young man. Leave them with Jim Popps. I’ll get ’em.
You’re a nervy chap.”
Frank thanked the captain, and soon he was going ashore with his
grip and his wet clothing done into a neat bundle. He looked back
for a glimpse of Hilda, but she was not to be seen, and, although
he lingered till the boat swung off and bore away up the lake, he
saw nothing more of her.
But he could remember just how her warm, firm, shapely hand felt as
it lay in his own, and he seemed to see her handsome face upturned
to his, while her dark eyes looked straight into his own.
Frank gave himself a shake.
“What’s the matter with you?” he growled to himself. “Are you going
to get broken up over this girl? Not much! Have a little sense, you
chump!”
He found accommodations, and then set out to learn what he could
about the man he had pursued to that wild region. He went straight
to “The Store,” in front of which several men were loafing in the
sunshine. The men gazed at him with great curiosity.
“Can some of you gentlemen tell me how to get from here to Blank
Island?” he asked.
“Ye might have gone right up on the bo’t,” said one.
“I want to go up to-morrow afternoon.”
“What ye goin’ up thar fer?” grunted another man, suspiciously.
“Oh, business.”
“Business, hey? There hev people gone up thar on business that
never got back. Better stay away, young man.”
“Who you goin’ to see?” asked a third.
“Miss Hilda Dugan,” answered Frank.
“Hum! Thought it couldn’t be Dugan hisself ye wanted ter see. Does
he know ye’re comin’?”
Frank was growing restless under this questioning, and he rather
sharply answered.
“I do not presume Mr. Dugan knows I am coming.”
“Then ye’d best keep erway. Give us a chaw of terbacker, Joe.”
“Why don’t ye buy some terbacker of yer own?” grumbled Joe, as he
fished down into a pocket and drew out a plug. “You never hev any.”
“Times is so darn hard I can’t raise money enough fer rum an’
terbacker this year. Ef we warn’t right on ‘the line,’ I wouldn’t
git more’n two ur three drinks a day.”
For the moment Frank seemed ignored, but he spoke up sharply:
“I want to hire a man to take me to Blank Island to-morrow
afternoon, and I will pay well for it. Who will take the job?”
The men looked doubtfully at each other, and one of them said:
“I don’t know anybody har as keers to kerry yer up to Dugan’s
Islan’, young feller.”
“But don’t you know of anybody in the town who will do it?” asked
Frank, desperately.
“It’s mighty doubtful if ye kin find anybody,” was the answer.
“I don’t understand it!” exclaimed Merry. “I saw several sailboats
down at the landing, and----”
“Oh, thar are plenty of them har, but folks have been warned ter
keep erway from Dugan’s, and they know better’n ter go agin’ any
warnin’ frum him, you bet!”
The others nodded and grunted, wagging their jaws over the tobacco
they were industriously chewing.
“It’s strange!” said Frank.
“If you’ll take my advice, young feller,” said an old man with one
eye that squinted, while the other stared, “you’ll keep clear of
Dugan’s.”
Again there was more nodding and grunting.
“Why?” asked Frank.
“Waal, ter be plain with yer, Dugan don’t think much of the young
fellers what git ter runnin’ arter his gal. He’s nigh kilt several
on’ em.”
“That’s so,” said some of the others.
“Thar was that summer dude that kem up hyer from Bangor last y’ar,”
the old man with the squint eye went on. “Why, Dugan ketched him,
tied him ter a tree, an’ nigh beat him ter death with birch
withes. Ther feller was sick fer two month arter that.”
“An’ then there was that Vanceborough chap,” said another. “The gal
uster meet him till Dugan got onter it. When he found it aout, he
laid for ’em, an’ ketched ’em. He broke one of the feller’s arms
with a club an’ laid his head open. That cooked that feller, you
bet!”
“You bet!” echoed the others.
“So you’d better go back an’ let Dugan’s gal alone,” advised the
squint-eyed man.
By this time Frank’s face was crimson, but he bit his lips and held
his temper, speaking coolly, even smiling:
“That is all right, gentlemen; but it is purely a business matter
between me and Miss Dugan. I don’t care what happened to those
other chaps, I am going up to Blank Island to-morrow. If I can’t
get anyone to take me there, I’ll hire a boat and go alone. Now,
who owns a good sailboat that I can get?”
“I own one,” admitted the squint-eyed man; “but I don’t want ter
take chances of lettin’ her to you.”
“I’ll pay. I will give you ten dollars for the use of your boat
to-morrow afternoon, providing she is satisfactory.”
At this the old man’s squinting eye squinted all the more, while
the other eye opened wider and stared hard at the determined lad.
“Hev ye got ther money?”
“Yes; here it is.”
Frank was careful not to display a large roll, but took out a ten
dollar gold piece, which he held up in view.
An avaricious look instantly settled on the old man’s face.
“Waal, I’ll let ye my bo’t fer that,” he said, “an’ take chances on
her; but if you hev her more’n to-morrow arternoon you must pay a
dollar an hour for her.”
“After what time?”
“Ten o’clock ter-morrer night.”
“All right. If I am not back before that, I shall not return till
the next day. Here is a dollar to bind the bargain.”
Frank found the people of Forest City would not say much about Enos
Dugan, save that he was a bad man to have anything to do with. He
was told that Dugan sometimes came into the settlement on a drunk,
and then everybody steered clear of him, for he was liable to do
injury to his friends, if he could find no enemies on which to
wreak his wrath.
Of course, Frank did not tell them that he had struck Dugan with
his fist and knocked the man into the river at Brownville, for he
realized that he would be regarded as a liar. And he did not tell
them why he had followed Dugan to that wild part of the country. He
let the impression get out that it was Hilda Dugan he especially
wished to see.
No one in Forest City spoke of Dugan as a smuggler. It was plain
to Frank that not a single person in the place cared to talk about
smugglers and smuggling.
Directly after dinner on the following day, Frank was ready to
leave Forest City. He had been given directions how to find
Dugan’s Island, and he felt sure he could not miss it.
The owner of the boat was on hand to see him off, and collected the
remainder of the ten dollars in advance.
There was a good steady breeze, and, after getting up the
“leg-o’-mutton” sail, it was not long before Merry left the
settlement behind.
The owner of the boat had whispered a last warning to him, asking
him if he had a revolver, and telling him to keep clear of Dugan if
possible.
The boat did not prove to be fast, but she was fairly satisfactory,
and Frank enjoyed the sail thoroughly.
The shores of the lake were wooded, and there were numerous
islands, but Frank watched for the one that had been described to
him, and, after an hour’s sail, saw the blasted pine on a rocky
bluff, telling him he was approaching his destination.
It must be confessed that Merry was not entirely without
apprehensions on approaching the island, for he realized that Dugan
was an unscrupulous ruffian, and was on his own stamping ground. It
was pretty certain the man would not hesitate at any crime.
It seemed almost impossible to Merry that such a man could be the
father of such a daughter, for Hilda seemed even more handsome and
attractive as he remembered her than she had while he was in her
society, and that is saying a great deal.
To Merry the girl was a marvel. He could not understand how such a
girl could be reared under such circumstances. The only thing that
seemed to offer the least explanation of it all was the fact that
she had spent some years at a boarding school.
Remembering what she had said to him, Frank was convinced that
Hilda thoroughly understood the desperate character of her father.
And yet she had invited Frank to come to the island.
The only explanation to this seemed to be that she had believed
Dugan would not be at home.
This thought caused Merry to hesitate. He might bring about an
embarrassing state of affairs by visiting her while she was alone
at her home on that island in the midst of the border lake. He had
seen beyond a doubt that she was possessed by a strong liking for
him, and he was determined that nothing he would do should lead her
to regard him with greater affection. For all of her outer polish,
she was a girl of the woods, and she might openly declare her love.
Then, if she were told by Frank that he could never love her in
return, her affection might turn to hatred.
But she had promised to aid him in recovering the rifle, and he
would go to the island. There was a floating landing, moored to the
shore, and alongside this Merry ran the sailboat. He made the boat
fast, and then went ashore. A path led up into the woods.
“This leads to her home,” he thought.
He started into the path. The woods were thick on either hand, and
the ground was soft beneath his feet. Away in the woods a squirrel
chattered. He came upon a partridge that, with a brood of little
ones, was crossing the path. The mother bird actually flew at him
with great fury when he attempted to capture one of the chickens
with his hands. The moment she saw all the little ones had hidden,
she fluttered into the woods and disappeared.
Laughing over this adventure, Merriwell went on his way. He chirped
to a squirrel that chattered saucily from a limb. The odor of the
woods was sweet in his nostrils, and he felt that it was a grand
thing to be living in such a beautiful world.
The path gave a sudden turn, and Frank halted with an exclamation.
Before him, standing full in the path, was Enos Dugan, holding a
rifle that was leveled straight at the lad’s heart.
“Up with yer hands!” snarled the man, his face showing his terrible
rage. “Up with them instanter, or by ther Lord Harry, I’ll shoot ye
dead whar ye stand!”
Dugan meant it, and Frank saw he was fairly trapped.
“Up they go,” he laughed, as he lifted them. “I am not anxious to
be shot this afternoon.”