FOREST LEARNS THE FACTS.
After a good night’s sleep, Fred Forest rose at sunrise, having
ordered an early breakfast, as he was to start up the river as soon
as possible.
He was standing in front of the hotel, breathing in the pure
morning air, and wondering if Merriwell and his friends would turn
out in time to go with him or would wait for the drive to reach
Matawamkeag, when he was astonished to see Mike Sullivan, his
foreman, come out of the door.
Sullivan was no less astonished to see Forest, and he would have
dodged back into the hotel, but he realized that he had been seen
and it was useless to dodge.
“What in the world does this mean, Sullivan?” demanded Forest,
sharply.
The foreman muttered something, quickly pulling out a colored
handkerchief and trying to conceal the battered and bruised
condition of his face under pretense of wiping his mouth.
“Why are you here?” asked the young lumberman.
“I thought you might be in town, and I came down ahead of the drive
ter see ye,” said the foreman, thickly.
“But what’s the matter with your face? You have been fighting.”
“Man has ter fight sometimes.”
“But I know your propensity. You had rather fight than eat. You
have been drinking, too. You had no business to leave the drive and
come down here. Your place is with the men.”
Sullivan was silent.
“You know your agreement when I hired you. You were not to drink
while on the drive.”
“A man has ter have something somtimes when he gets wet through,”
half growled the foreman.
“That argument may go in the spring time, when the water is cold,
but it is summer now, and it will not hold. It’s plain you have
been on a tear. Who did you fight with?”
“Oh, a gang pitched onter me an’ Pombere last night. There was
about twenty of ’em, and we was thumped pritty hard, but----”
Sullivan stopped short, muttering an oath, for at that juncture
Frank Merriwell appeared in the doorway, looking as fresh as a
morning-glory.
Forest saw Sullivan staring toward the door, his face working with
fury, and he turned about.
Frank came down the steps.
“Curse ye!” snarled Sullivan.
To Forest’s astonishment, he saw that his foreman was about to
make a dash at Merry, his fists clinched, his whole appearance
indicating great rage.
Fred caught Sullivan by the arm, crying:
“Stop! That is my friend!”
Frank had paused with his hands on his hips, smiling quietly.
“Let him come if he wants to so bad, Forest,” he said. “I’ll give
him another dose of the same medicine I gave him last night.”
“If you dare attempt to touch him, Sullivan, I’ll discharge you!”
came sharply from the young lumberman.
That caused the foreman of the drive to drop his hands, muttering
to himself.
“So you had an encounter with him last night, Mr. Merriwell?” said
Fred. “I don’t see that you bear any marks.”
“I was fortunate enough to escape without receiving any,” smiled
Frank.
“Sullivan says a gang of about twenty men jumped on him and Levi
Pombere.”
“I think he stretched that somewhat.”
“How many were there in your party?”
“No one but Diamond and myself.”
“What?”
Forest was astounded.
“That is straight,” nodded Merriwell.
“And you two fought Mike Sullivan and Levi Pombere?”
“We had to fight them.”
“It’s hard to believe!”
“Don’t believe it,” snarled the foreman.
“I can prove it,” declared Frank, quietly. “It was at the dance
last night, and all those in the hall witnessed the little
disturbance.”
“But Sullivan has whipped five good men at once.”
“I can’t help that. I knew nothing of his reputation as a fighter
till the trouble was over, and then they told me he was the
champion bad man of the river.”
“What have you to say about this, sir?” demanded Forest, turning on
the foreman.
“I was drunk, that’s all--Pombere was drunk. We couldn’t see ter
fight. Sometime, when I’m sober----”
“What?”
“I’ll settle with this smart young chap.”
“If you do try that while you are on the drive I’ll discharge you
without notice. Mr. Merriwell is my friend and my guest. He is
going down the river on the drift, and, as long as you remain with
the crew, you will use him with the utmost courtesy. I want you to
understand that. I shall be with the crew, and I’ll see all that
goes on.”
The foreman was furious, but he was obliged to suppress his rage.
“We start to join the drive immediately after breakfast,” Forest
went on. “I shall expect to find you and Pombere on duty when I get
there. You may go.”
Giving Merriwell a savage look, Sullivan turned and walked round
the hotel, disappearing from view.
Fred Forest surveyed Frank Merriwell from head to feet.
“Well,” he slowly said. “I have heard that you could fight as well
as you could do anything else, but I swear I did not think you
could whip that kind of a ruffian! Why, what you have done should
make you famous on the Penobscot.”
“Well,” smiled Frank, “I was forced into it.”
“Tell us about it.”
Frank did so. When he had finished Fred grasped his hand.
“You are a fellow after my own heart, Merriwell!” he cried.
“Sullivan is a good foreman, but he’s a brute, and I’m glad he was
whipped. But you must look out for him. He may try to get square.”
“Oh, I shall keep my eyes open,” declared Frank.