CHAPTER III.

NEW ARRIVALS AT THE LAKE.

Late that afternoon Warren Hatch and Frank went out to fish and remained

until after nightfall.

Lights were gleaming from the cottage windows as they rowed slowly back.

Away at the southern end of the lake were other lights, indicating the

location of the little settlement of cottagers. Lake Placid was a

popular resort at this season of the year.

Joe, the man of all work, came down to the shore and took care of the

boat.

"Take care of the fish, Joe," called Hatch, as he hastened after Merry,

who was striding toward the cottage.

The shades were drawn and the place seemed silent enough until Frank

opened the door and stepped inside. Then he was surprised and startled

to find himself seized by four pairs of hands, which hustled him about

amid bursts of laughter and shouts of welcome.

"Hold on! hold on!" he gasped, in the greatest astonishment, for he

recognized his four assailants as his friends, Bart Hodge, Bruce

Browning, Inza Burrage, and Elsie Bellwood. "Where in the world did you

all drop from?"

"We have run you down at last," said Hodge; "but you gave us a merry old

chase."

"It's been the greatest game of hide and seek I ever played," grunted

Browning, ceasing from his attack on Frank and dropping lazily on a

chair, which creaked beneath his weight. "Just when we would think we

were going to put our hands on you sure you would disappear like a

wizard."

"Aren't you glad to see us?" demanded Inza.

"If you're not, we'll go right away," said Elsie.

"Glad!" cried Frank. "I'm speechless with delight. But I don't

understand it yet."

Then they explained how they had followed him to Boston and from that

city to New York, and how in the latter place, after no end of trouble

and detective work, they learned that he was off for Lake Placid, in the

Adirondacks. Arriving at Newman late that afternoon, they had driven

over to the cottage of Mr. Hatch, which they reached while Frank and his

host were still out fishing.

"Here is Mrs. Medford, Frank," said Inza, calling his attention to a

smiling, middle-aged lady who sat near the open fireplace.

Mrs. Medford was a relative of Inza's who often accompanied her as

companion and chaperon.

"Mrs. Medford," said Merry, hastening to clasp the smiling woman's hand,

"I am delighted to see you again. I'm quite overcome with surprise and

pleasure. It's evident I am, for I have forgotten Mr. Hatch."

No wonder Mr. Hatch had been overlooked, for he had stepped back and

remained quiet during all the chatter and laughter of the meeting

between Frank and his friends.

"I am greatly pleased to meet your friends, Mr. Merriwell," he declared,

as Frank introduced one after another. "If the accommodations at my poor

cottage----"

"Oh, we wouldn't think of putting you to the slightest inconvenience!"

declared Inza. "We can find accommodations in Newman, Mr. Hatch, and we

wouldn't think of----"

"Unless it is too uncomfortable here," Hatch hastened to say, "I shall

consider it a favor to entertain you as the friends of the cleverest

fisherman and finest young man it has been my good fortune to meet in

twenty years. Anything and everything here is yours as long as you

choose to remain, and you can't remain too long for me."

That was quite enough, for they saw he was in earnest. He could thaw out

and be genial and pleasant when he chose, and this was an occasion when

he had no difficulty in thawing. He called Joe and gave orders about

supper, and soon the delightful odor of cooking fish came faintly to

their nostrils.

While supper was being prepared Frank related the story of the many

adventures which had befallen him since he hastily left Maine in pursuit

of the Mexican who had stolen one of his valuable papers.

As she listened Inza flushed and paled by turns. She was elated by his

success, and she found it difficult to check a tremor as she realized

how many times he had been in deadly danger.

"Where is O'Toole?" cried Hodge, as Frank finished. "I want to

congratulate him on his job in ending the career of that snake, Del

Norte."

O'Toole was aiding Joe in the cook house, and he was finally induced,

under protest, to appear in the cottage. He stood before Frank's

friends, grinning bashfully and bowing awkwardly.

"O'Toole," said Bart, shaking the Irishman's hand, "you never did a

better bit of work in all your life than when you shot Porfias del

Norte."

"It's not so sure Oi am av that," declared the man. "It's nivver a bit

will Oi shlape till Oi know fer sure th' baste is dead an' burried six

fate under ground."

"Why, Frank said you shot him through the head."

"Oi did thot, but whin we returned to th' hut pwhere he was it's up an'

gone he had."

"Frank says the body was carried off by his friends."

"Mebbe it wur, Oi dunno; but whoy th' ould scratch they wur afther

takin' all thot throuble an' risk is pwhat bates me. Somehow Oi'm

thinkin' th' mon up an' walked away all by hissilf, an' it's cowld

chills Oi git from thinkin' he may be lookin' fer me to sittle our

account."

"You'll get over that feeling after a while," said Hodge. "Frank knows

when a man is dead, and you heard him pronounce Del Norte dead."

In Browning's ear Frank whispered:

"I confess I'd feel better satisfied if I had seen him buried; but I

don't intend to tell O'Toole that."

In due time supper was cooked and served in the plain but comfortable

dining room. The death of Del Norte was forgotten, and it was a jolly

crowd that gathered about the large table.

"Hold me!" cried Browning, as he drank in the odor of baked potatoes,

cooked fish and steaming coffee. "If you don't look out I'll wade in

here and create a famine. I feel as if I might eat everything on this

table without half trying."

"There is plenty of everything," said Warren Hatch. "Joe tells me there

is more fish. Here he comes with some of his hot biscuits right out of

the oven."

Joe appeared with a heaping plate of biscuits, and soon all were

enjoying the meal.

Inza was unusually vivacious, her cheeks being flushed and her dark eyes

sparkling. The pleasure of being with Frank again was enough to put her

at her best, and indeed she was a most beautiful girl.

Elsie was quieter, but there was no mistaking the expression of deep

satisfaction which hovered on her sweet face. The fact that Inza was

happy was enough to give her pleasure.

In the midst of the meal there came a rapping at the door. Mr. Hatch

answered the summons and was gone some time. When he returned he

explained that there was to be a masquerade dance at a pavilion used for

dances and picnics down at the cottage village, and, having learned of

the presence of guests at his cottage, invitations had been extended to

them all.

"Perfectly jolly!" cried Inza. "But we have no costumes."

"Never mind that," said Mr. Hatch. "Without doubt there will be others

in the same predicament. You can easily manufacture some masks, and,

being strangers here, no one outside your own party will recognize you.

I'm sorry I can't assist you in the matter of dress, but I can help the

male members of the party. I have a full Indian rig and a cowboy outfit,

which will do for two. The third can dress in old clothes, like a hunter

or guide. The whole thing can be arranged somehow if you care to go.

Where there's a will there's a way, you know."

"Oh, say," grunted Browning, "count me out. I'm no dancer. Besides that,

I'm tired."

"The same old complaint," laughed Frank. "What do you think about it,

Elsie?"

"If Inza wishes to go, I'm ready," answered Elsie. "We might have a good

time."

Hodge expressed a willingness to go along, and then Frank cried:

"It's a go, my children! Let's enter into this thing in earnest and have

a high old time. Bruce, you ought to be ashamed of your laziness."

"Don't begin that old song!" said the big fellow. "There's not enough

laziness in this world. Everybody howls about strenuousness and hustle,

and people wear themselves out and die before they should. I'm setting a

good example, and I'll continue to set."

"Or sit," nodded Merry. "All right, Lazybones, stay here by your

lonesome and content yourself thinking what a fine time we're having."

"Thanks," grunted Bruce.

Frank Merriwell's Pursuit; Or, How to Win · 第 3 / 30 章