CHAPTER XXX.

MERRIWELL MISJUDGED.

The lads of the camp, aware that something momentous was brewing,

kept at a discreet distance from the colonel. They were plainly ill

at ease, although it was equally plain that they were trying not to

show it. Ballard, Clancy, Brad, and Handy formed a little group by

themselves. They had inside information as to what was going on, and

watched developments with considerably more anxiety than the rest of

the campers.

Frank walked briskly up to Colonel Hawtrey and put out his hand with a

smile.

“Good afternoon, colonel,” said he pleasantly. “Glad to see you.”

The colonel paid no attention to the extended hand. Leaning back

against his saddle horse, he hooked his left arm around the pommel of

the saddle and allowed the fingers of his right hand to fumble with a

watch chain. His snapping eyes fixed themselves on the frank, handsome

face of the lad in front of him.

“Merriwell,” said he cuttingly, “I’m disappointed in you. I thought you

were a worthy son of your father, and I repeat that I’ve been badly

disappointed.”

“I’m sorry for that, sir,” Frank answered, flushing a little as he

lowered his hand. “You have been to Camp Hawtrey?”

“I’ve just come from there; and, when I leave here, I’m going back.

What have you to say for yourself—anything? I didn’t think you were a

rowdy and a trouble maker.”

“You’ve heard one side of the story, colonel,” said Frank, keeping

himself well in hand, “and don’t you think, in the interest of fair

play, you ought to hear both sides?”

“What else,” demanded the colonel, “do you suppose I came over here

for?”

“From your actions it looks as though you had made up your mind that I

am in the wrong.”

“I have—I am sure of it. Jode has told me everything, and three of

Jode’s companions have vouched for his statements. The testimony is of

the very best.”

“Then, if you are so sure you have got the right of it, what was the

use of coming here to talk with me?”

Frank was nettled by the colonel’s injustice. He tried hard to restrain

himself and to give the older man the respect which was rightfully his

due, but a little temper flashed in his words.

“Young man,” was the icy response, “I try to be a true sportsman;

and, while you and that red-headed chum of yours have made a sorry

exhibition of yourselves, I have an idea as to where the cause lies.

You are at fault, of course, but I do not think that you are quite as

much at fault as some one else whom I could name.”

“You mean Darrel?” Frank asked quickly.

“Yes.”

“Then,” said Frank warmly, “I want to tell you that you are mistaken,

and that Ellis Darrel hadn’t the first thing to do with what happened

near Camp Hawtrey yesterday afternoon.”

“You are under the influence of that scapegrace nephew of mine,”

stormed the colonel. “Do you think I’m not able to see it? He has

set you against Jode. Do you admire a sneak, Merriwell? What, under

heavens, has got into you that you can’t see through the plans of

that—that young marplot?”

Here was the colonel, wrong in every way because of Lenning’s

influence, accusing his other nephew of being a sneak and a marplot.

Frank rallied promptly to the defense of his new chum.

“Darrel is not a sneak, sir,” said he. “I’m not under his influence,

either, in forming my own estimate of Jode Lenning.”

The colonel tossed his hand deprecatingly.

“Do you deny,” he asked, “that you and Clancy went over to the other

camp, yesterday, and stirred up a disgraceful fight with Jode and three

of his friends?”

“No, sir, I don’t deny that Clancy and I had trouble with Jode.”

“Clancy knocked Jode down. Do you deny that?”

“No. If Clancy hadn’t knocked him down, I should probably have done it

myself. He deserved it. Did Jode tell you that he struck Clancy first?”

“That is not true!” asserted the colonel. “You and your friend began

the fight. All Jode and his friends did was to defend themselves. Any

lad, with the right sort of spirit, will fight back when he’s set upon.

Jode is not a coward. If he hadn’t fought, I should have felt like

giving him a trouncing myself.”

It looked to Frank like a hopeless job, trying to set the colonel

right. He was so dominated by the influence of Lenning, that he took

for gospel all that Lenning told him—especially since Hummer, Lamson,

and Parkman vouched for the truth of Lenning’s statements.

“Is Bleeker at Camp Hawtrey, colonel?” inquired Frank calmly. “Or

Hotchkiss?”

“Those two fellows have made themselves extremely disagreeable to all

the others in our camp,” replied the colonel, “and, very properly, Jode

sent them packing.”

“Bleeker and Hotchkiss could tell you a few things about that row,

colonel, which Jode and his friends didn’t think necessary to mention.”

“They’re out with Jode, and they’d try to injure him if they could. I

don’t care to talk with either of them.”

“Then, colonel, I’m going to tell you what started the racket. If you

think Jode acted like a true sportsman, I’ll have nothing more to say.

I want you to remember, though, that I was brought up to hate a lie,

and that what you hear from me is the truth.”

“Go on,” said the colonel.

“Clancy and I set out for your camp to arrange for a series of

competitions,” went on Frank. “We wanted to do everything possible to

cause a better feeling between the two clubs, and stirring up trouble

was the last thing in our minds. Before we got to the camp, though, we

saw Jode and three of his friends blazing away at a coyote dog with a

revolver.”

“That coyote dog was a camp robber,” put in the colonel. “It was

perfectly right for the boys to shoot him.”

“Why, yes, if it was plain shooting they were going to do; but what

right had they to torture the brute?”

“There was nothing in the way of torture whatever,” declared the

colonel.

“Is tying a dynamite cartridge to a dog’s tail and lighting the fuse

torture?” demanded Frank.

“Nothing of that sort was done.”

Frank gasped. How was he to make any headway against all this

misinformation which the colonel had received from Jode? And it was

misinformation which the colonel accepted in every detail.

“Colonel,” continued Frank earnestly, “I was there and I know what took

place. Clancy and I didn’t interfere, until Jode had ordered one of the

boys to light the fuse and another one to cut the dog loose. It was a

brutal business. Clancy and I stopped it; and, if we had it to do over,

we would stop it again.”

“I shall not dispute with you, Merriwell,” returned the colonel. “I

consider that the source of my information is perfectly reliable.”

“I have something else to tell you,” Frank said respectfully, but

none the less firmly, “and if you don’t believe me now you will some

time. I cut the cartridge away from the dog and threw it off among the

rocks. While Clancy and I were talking with Bleeker and Hotchkiss, Jode

lighted the fuse and threw the cartridge toward us.”

“Merriwell!” The colonel’s eyes dilated, and angry protest was in his

voice.

“Jode,” Frank quietly continued, “never shouted one word of warning

when he let that infernal machine fly at us. Bleeker saw it, and he and

Hotchkiss began to run. Clancy and I took to our heels and just managed

to get out of the way before the cartridge exploded.”

“You are trying to make Jode out a murderous scoundrel,” cried Hawtrey,

“and I shall not stay here and listen to such talk.”

“You’d better listen; not only that, but you’d better take Jode in hand

and do something with him. He’s crazy. If he tries any more tricks of

that sort, I’ll put the matter in the hands of Hawkins, the deputy

sheriff.”

Angrily the colonel swung to his saddle. The subject of the dynamite

cartridge he did not pursue any further. Evidently Jode had given his

version of the affair, and the colonel had more faith in Jode than in

Merriwell.

“What I regret most about all this,” said the colonel, speaking from

the saddle and in a voice which he tried to make calm and judicial,

“is that it breaks off at once all friendly rivalry between the two

athletic clubs. The matter is worse, infinitely worse, than it was

before you came to Ophir and took a prominent part in the affairs of

the Ophir organization. There will be no football game between Gold

Hill and Ophir this year.”

Hawtrey snapped out the last words, set his square jaw doggedly, and

touched his horse with the spurs. Looking neither to left nor right, he

galloped down into the cañon and out of sight along the narrow trail.

Clancy, Ballard, Brad, and Handy hurried over to the place where

Merriwell was standing.

“What did he say?” all four of the youngsters asked, in one breath.

“He said a good many things,” Merry answered, “but about the bitterest

dose I had to swallow was what he said about the football game with

Gold Hill. It’s all off, fellows.”

“All off?” echoed Handy, as though he scarcely believed his ears. “What

has a little row with Lenning got to do with that?”

“I guess the colonel thinks we’re a lot of plug-uglies and might turn

the game into a Donnybrook fair. Jode has pumped him full, and Lamson,

Parkman, and Hummer have backed Jode up in everything. The colonel, of

course, is taking their word for it all. He didn’t tell me flatly that

I lied, although he might as well have done so. Lenning has made him

think, Clan, that you and I went over to Camp Hawtrey just to pick a

row.”

“Of course,” said Clancy sardonically, “what else could you expect?

How did Jode get around the dynamite cartridge?”

“By saying there wasn’t any such thing.”

“All the colonel has got to do, Chip, is to look at the hole in the

ground where it went off.”

“Funny thing about it is,” Merry went on, “the colonel blames Darrel,

he thinks Curly goaded us on to pick a row with Lenning.”

That brought a laugh, all the lads wondering how such a foolish notion

could be entertained by Hawtrey for a single moment. Lenning, they

agreed, must have contrived to give the colonel that impression.

“I’m going down the gulch to talk with Darrel,” said Frank. “If I were

you, Handy, I wouldn’t say anything to the boys about the colonel’s

calling the football game off. There’s a chance that Mr. Bradlaugh may

be able to smooth over the differences, so that the game will be played

according to schedule. Want to ride with me, Pink, you and Clan?”

Ballard and Clancy were eager to go with Merriwell and have a talk

with Darrel. In a few minutes all three of the chums were mounted and

galloping toward Dolliver’s.

Frank Merriwell, Jr.'s, Helping Hand; Or, Fair Play and No Favors · 第 30 / 48 章