THE TERROR OF O'TOOLE.
Watson Scott, familiarly known as Old Gripper, was a man of great
hardihood and endurance, and, therefore, for all of his recent
experience with Frank Merriwell's enemies, for all that he had been
imprisoned by his captors in a natural well and had stood for hours in
water up to his hips, he rapidly recovered after arriving once more at
the cottage of his friend and business associate, Warren Hatch, on Lake
Placid.
But Old Gripper had been aroused, and he was determined to make it hot
for his recent captors, who, led by Porfias del Norte, had gone to
desperate lengths to obtain valuable papers which were the basis of a
business combination that threatened the interests of Del Norte and his
associates.
"Unless they move on the jump I'll have the bunch of them nipped before
long," Old Gripper declared.
To his vexation he found it was impossible to properly swear out a
warrant for the arrest of Del Norte's companions without making the
journey to Saranac Lake.
"I'll do that the first thing in the morning," he said.
In the morning, however, he found himself stiff and lame, and he was
induced to delay until noon.
During the forenoon he decided to return without further delay to New
York. Having settled on this, he sent a message to Saranac Lake, stating
his charges against Porfias del Norte's band of desperadoes, and asking
that the warrant be drawn up and brought to him at the station as he was
passing through. He also gave instructions that officers should be on
hand to immediately take up the work of running the gang down.
Before noon Belmont Bland, Old Gripper's private secretary, was
apparently taken ill, and when the time came for Scott to depart Bland
seemed unable to travel. He asserted that it was one of his usual
nervous attacks, and declared he would be all right by the next day.
Therefore it was arranged that he should remain at Lake Placid.
Frank Merriwell had given in to the urging of Warren Hatch, who almost
begged him to stay over another day and fish again in the morning.
"It's not often I strike a fisherman after my own heart," said Hatch.
"When I do I don't like to let him slip through my fingers. Stay over
until to-morrow at least, Merriwell. There is no reason why you should
tear away in such a hurry."
"You can stay, Merriwell," declared Scott. "We have settled the railroad
deal right here. Bragg and I will get things to moving in the city.
Leave that to us."
"I'm very willing to leave it to you," laughed Frank. "I'll stay one
more day, Mr. Hatch."
"If we can have another good morning to fish--ah, we won't do a thing!"
chuckled Hatch, ending with a cough.
"You ought to stay up here for the next month," declared Old Gripper.
"That cough of yours----"
"Oh, it's nothing! I've had it for a year, and it's not serious in any
way--only annoying."
At Saranac Lake Scott saw that the warrant for Del Norte was placed in
the proper hands and the machinery of the law set in motion.
When Frank and Warren Hatch returned to the cottage of the latter they
were surprised to find the place locked, the shutters closed, and an air
of desertion hanging over everything.
But it was not deserted.
While Hatch was fumbling on the door they heard a stir within and a
voice shouted:
"Be afther getting away from there, ye divvils, ur Oi'll blow yez full
av lead! It's arrmed Oi am to th' tathe!"
It was the voice of Pat O'Toole, an Irishman who had been one of Del
Norte's gang, but out of gratitude, had saved Frank's life and had been
actively concerned in the rescue of Old Gripper.
"O'Toole!" cried Frank; "why the dickens have you locked yourself up
this way?"
"Is it you, Misther Merriwell?" cried O'Toole, joyously. "It's a great
relafe to hear your foine, musical voice wance more! Wait a minute
unthil Oi open th' dure."
The door was unlocked and thrown open. O'Toole stood with a rifle in his
hands, looking pale and agitated. Around his waist was a belt holding a
pair, of pistols and a knife.
"What's the matter, man?" asked Hatch. "You look like a walking
arsenal?"
"It's me loife Oi'm ready to defind to th' larrust gasp," declared the
Irishman.
"Your life? Why, what----"
"Oi'm in danger of bein' murthered."
"In danger?"
"Ivery minute av me ixistence."
"What makes you think that?"
"Oi don't think it; Oi know it. Afther ye wint away to th' shtation Oi
sat on th' verandy shmokin' me poipe an' thinkin'. The longer Oi thought
th' more froightened Oi became. It wur Porrfeeus dil Noort thot paid me
well to assist him in a litthle schame to trap a certain young gintleman
named Frank Merriwell. Oi took his money and promised to rinder me best
assistance. Oi know this parrut av th' counthry well, an' so Oi was
valuable to Dil Noort. Oi towld him about th' owld hut in th' valley
an' th' natural well. Oi towld him a man dhropped inther thot well
moight shtay there an' rot widout ivver bein' found. That wur pwhere he
meant to dispose av you, Misther Merriwell. Afther that it was yersilf
thot saved me loife at Sarrynack Lake. Thin Oi says, says Oi, 'O'Toole,
ye miserable divvil, av ye don't git aven wid thot foine young gint, ye
ought to be hanged fer a shnake.' Oi knew ye would be thrapped thot same
noight, Misther Merriwell, an' Oi rode loike th' ould bhoy to cut yez
off an' get me finger in the poie. You remimber pwhat happened."
"I remember that you aided me to escape from the hands of Del Norte and
his paid desperadoes," nodded Frank.
"An' got mesilf disloiked fer it. Oi knew Dil Noort would be ready to
cut me throat on soight. Oi thought th' safest thing wur to hilp capture
Dil Noort, an' thot's pwhat took me here, pwhere Oi arrived just in
toime to hilp in the search fer Misther Shcott."
"And help us you certainly did," nodded Merry. "Aided by you, we lost no
time in finding the valley and the well in which Mr. Scott was
imprisoned."
"But it's th' divvil's own doin's there was before thot," said O'Toole.
"Oi wur in a bad shcrape whin Oi run inther th' hands av Bantry Hagan
an' he marruched me to thot old hut, where Oi was bound hand an' foot.
Nivver a bit did Oi drame th' drunk aslape on th' flure av th' hut an'
shnorin' away wur yersilf, Misther Merriwell. Aven whin Oi lay chlose to
yez an' ye began to untoie me bonds Oi couldn't suspict it was yersilf.
Whin Dil Noort showed up Oi knew it meant throuble, an' sure it wur a
relafe to feel in me hand th' pistol ye put there. Th' divvil bent over
me wid a knoife in his hands, an' Oi saw murther in his oies. Thin Oi
didn't wait, but Oi shot him through th' head."
"But I don't understand what all this has to do with the fear you
profess to feel," said Hatch. "I didn't fancy you were a coward,
O'Toole."
"No more Oi am; but Porrfeeus dil Noort is a moighty dangerous mon, and
he----"
"Is dead. You're not afraid of dead men?"
"It's dead Oi saw him before me," nodded the Irishman; "but Oi wish Oi
had seen him buried, so Oi do. Whin we returned afther pulling Misther
Shcott out av th' well Dil Noort's body wur gone."
"His companions carried it away," said Merry.
"Mebbe thot's roight," said O'Toole; "but afther ye left me here, wid
Joe gone an' mesilf all alone, it's nervous Oi became. Oi took to
thinkin' it all over, an' in th' air Oi hearrud a voice whisper,
'O'Toole, yure goose is cooked, fer, dead ur aloive. Porrfeeus dil
Noort will get aven wid ye!' It made me have cowld chills down me back,
an' out in th' grove yonder Oi saw shadows movin' an' crapin'. Oi began
to ixpect a bullet through me body, an' afther a whoile Oi joomped up
an' run inther th' cabin, jist shakin' loike Oi had a chill an' me tathe
knockin' togither. Oi fashtened th' dures an' closed th' shutters av
ivery windy. Thin Oi arrmed mesilf, an' nivver in all me loife did Oi
hear swater music than whin ye shpoke outside, Misther Merriwell."
Merriwell laughed.
"I declare, O'Toole, I'd never expect a man of your courage and wit to
be frightened in such a manner. Del Norte is dead, and it's almost
certain his companions have taken to their legs to get away as fast and
as far as possible. Mr. Scott will have officers searching high and low
for them. They are fugitives from justice. Even though they were not
under the ban of the law, with Del Norte gone, there is not one chance
in a hundred that any of them would ever lift a hand to annoy or molest
you or me. The fall of their leader put an end to their work, and they
will scatter and keep under cover until the storm blows over."
"That's right, O'Toole," declared Warren Hatch. "You rendered Mr.
Merriwell and the rest of us a great service when you fired the shot
that brought Del Norte down. They won't dare have you arrested for that
shooting, as no one would venture to appear against you. If they escape
from the officers, I expect we'll hear in a few days how Del Norte's
body was carried out of the mountains and expressed to friends
somewhere."
"They may not dare do that," said Frank. "They may bury him here in the
mountains, rather than take any chances of being captured themselves. At
any rate, it's foolish for you to worry, O'Toole. Of course it's not a
pleasant thing to think you have shot a man, but you did it in
self-defense, and were justified."
"It's roight ye are on thot point, me bhoy; but it's a long toime before
Oi'll rist aisy from thinkin' av it an' belavin' me own loife in danger.
Oi'll be afeared av me own shadder in th' darruk. Porrfeeus dil Noort
wur th' firrust man Oi ivver saw that made me fale as if bullets
wouldn't kill him an' kape him dead. Wur he to roize before me this
minute nivver a bit surphrised would Oi be."
Although Merry jollied the Irishman, it was no easy matter to relieve
O'Toole's nervousness.
Later Belmont Bland appeared at the cottage, having sought the advice of
a physician who was spending an outing at the little settlement on the
southern shore.
"I'm feeling better already," said Bland. "The doctor gave me some
medicine to quiet my nerves. I'll be all right to leave for the city
to-morrow, I hope, although I feel that I need several days of rest."
Frank wondered why Bland had lingered at the lake.