The hilarious fellows were repeating "The Red and Black" when Dick
passed down-stairs in search of the boy whose bicycle had been smashed.
Dick had been thinking of that lad. The boy had not raised a fuss over
the destruction of his wheel, and Merriwell admired him for his
behavior.
The boy was sitting on the hotel steps, mournfully trying to bend the
twisted spokes back into shape. A number of his friends had gathered
around him.
"It's tough on you, Sammy," said one of the group. "No fellow has a
right to grab a chap's wheel and smash it like that."
"He didn't mean to do it," said Sammy.
"That don't make no difference! He hadn't any right to take it at all."
"He did it to chase the runaway and save the girl."
"Well, you didn't start the runaway. You wasn't to blame for it.
Somebody oughter to pay you for your wheel."
"The fellow whose sister he saved said he'd give anybody a hundred
dollars to stop the horse. Why didn't he keep his word? Then Dick
Merriwell could pay me for my bike and have fifty dollars left."
Dick was deeply moved by this, and he came down the steps at once. The
boys looked a bit startled as they saw him and realized he might have
heard some of their talk.
"So you won your bicycle in a race at a fair, Sammy?" he said.
"Yes," said the boy, and there was a little choke in his throat. "It was
the best wheel I ever had. Judge Merritt put it up as a prize for the
best rider."
"An' he thought his son was going to git it," put in a little fellow;
"but Sammy he jest beat Arthur Merritt out at the finish an' got the
wheel, though Art was the maddest feller you ever saw."
"Well, it's a shame to have your wheel smashed after you worked so hard
for it," said Dick. "What did you do with your other wheel--the one you
had before you got this one?"
"I sold it. It wasn't much good, anyhow, and it only cost me nine
dollars second-hand. But I earned all the money to buy it myself."
"Did you race on your old wheel at the fair?"
"Oh, no! I never could have won on that. Fred Thurston let me have his
wheel to race on."
"Well, this bike is ruined, that's plain," said Dick, as he examined the
ill-fated bicycle. "You'll never ride it again."
"I guess that's right," nodded Sammy sadly. "But you stopped the horse
and saved the girl."
Not a whimper, not a sign of anger, only regret for the loss of the
wheel and satisfaction because Dick had been able to save June.
Young Merriwell realized that the boy was something of a hero, with a
most remarkable disposition.
"Don't worry, Sammy," he said, smiling reassuringly. "You shall have
another wheel, and I will buy it for you--a wheel just as good as this
one."
"Pardon me," said a voice that startled Dick and caused the boys to
stare as June Arlington herself came from the hotel and tripped down the
steps. "I claim the privilege of buying another wheel for him. No; it is
right, Mr. Merriwell! My father will gladly furnish the money when he
hears how this wheel came to be broken. I'll write him all about it this
very day."
"Hush!" grunted one of the boys doubtingly, speaking in a low tone to a
companion; "that's a big bluff! That's jest so Sam won't raise a row
about it."
"She's trying to make Sam think her father has money enough to buy a
fifty-dollar wheel every day if he wants to," said the other, joining in
the doubtful derision.
June was forced to smile. Sammy had risen and taken off his cap when
Dick lifted his.
"It's plain your friends haven't much faith in my promise," said June.
"That's all right," declared the owner of the wheel. "I believe it,
anyhow. Of course, I feel pretty bad over my wheel, but I'm glad the
horse was stopped before you was hurt."
June's expressive eyes glowed.
"Thank you," she said. "Did you ever hear of D. Roscoe Arlington?"
"No; I--why, do you mean the big railroad man?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I've heard of him!"
"He is my father, and I promise you that he will buy another wheel for
you at----"
"Excuse me," put in Dick. "But I was the one who snatched the bicycle
from this boy and smashed it, so it is I who should provide for the
loss."
"Not at all," declared June, with almost haughty decision. "You did it
while trying to save me from harm, and the debt is mine. I insist, and I
shall be angry if you do not let me refer this matter to my father, who
will certainly replace this wheel with the very best bicycle money can
procure."
Dick saw that she was very much in earnest, and it was plain that June
was accustomed to have her own way in most things. He was obliged to
yield gracefully.
June borrowed a pencil and piece of paper from Dick, after which she
noted the answers of the boy in regard to the kind of a wheel he wanted,
height of frame, gear, saddle, pedals, and so forth. She was perfectly
practical in this, and when she had finished questioning Sammy she was
in condition, if necessary, to go out and purchase the bicycle herself
and get exactly what the lad most desired.
Dick's admiration for June Arlington grew steadily. He noted that she
was perfectly cool and self-possessed, for all of the recent adventure
through which she had passed, and that, to a large extent, she was
lacking in the frivolity and giggling giddiness that marred the natural
charm of many girls near her age.
"If I had the money with me," said June to Sammy, "I would pay you for
your wheel right here; but I haven't that much, and, besides, I think it
possible you will get a far better machine if you permit my father to
select it for you."
"Oh, I'm willing to do that!" exclaimed the boy; "and I thank you
for----"
"I am the one to thank you," said June. "You happened along at just the
right time to aid in stopping that runaway."
This made the boy feel very good, while some of the fellows who stood
near grew jealous and tried to sneer.
June shook hands with Sammy, promising he should hear from Mr. Arlington
within a week, and then she turned back into the hotel, telling Dick she
wished to speak with him. The moment she entered the hotel the other
boys surrounded Sammy. One of them, a raw-boned, freckled chap with
dirty teeth, gave Sammy "the laugh."
"You're a soft mark!" he said. "Why, if you'd raised a big fuss you
might have frightened her into paying for your bike right off--that is,
if her father is the big gun she says he is."
"Go on, Spike Hanlon!" exclaimed Sammy. "What do you take me for? I
ain't built that way!"
"Because you're easy. Mebbe you'll get another bicycle, and, then again,
mebbe you won't! Soon as she gits outer town she'll never bother about
it no more. You let her soft-soap you and fool you jest because she
shook hands with ye! Yah!"
"Now, close your face!" exclaimed Sammy, flushing hotly and showing
anger for the first time. "If you say anything more about her I'll soak
you in the mouth!"
Which demonstrated that Sam had temper and could be aroused to anger,
for all that he had taken the smashing of his wheel so mildly.
At once the boys began to take sides. The majority were with Sammy, but
two fellows sidled over and joined Spike Hanlon.
"You hit me," said Hanlon, "and I'll break your head with a rock! That's
what I'll do, softie! I'm glad your old wheel was smashed. I'm glad of
it, and I'll bet you a hundred dollars you never get another one! Yah,
yah! Thought you was big because you beat Art Merritt and got a fine
bike, didn't ye! Well, now you ain't no better off than any of us! You
ain't so well off, for my brother's got your old wheel, and he lets me
ride it when I want to! Yah! yah! yah!"
But Hanlon had carefully placed himself at a distance by walking away in
a sidelong fashion, and he took to his heels, whooping and laughing
scornfully as Sammy made a move as if to rush at him.
"Don't you mind, Sammy," said one of the friends who had sided with him.
"Spike's jealous. He's been so ever since you won your bike. And I think
you'll get a new wheel all right."
"I know it!" said Sam, with the utmost confidence. "That girl's all
right, and I'd bet my life she'd have the wheel sent to me! Then won't
Spike feel sick!"