THE RECEPTION AT CARTERSVILLE.
The town of Cartersville is situated in the southern part of the State
of Iowa. This was the first stop Frank and his party made after leaving
Omaha. Their first view of the town was not particularly inviting, as
the railway station, after the disagreeable habit of nearly all railway
stations, was situated in the most unsightly and forbidding portion of
the place. In the immediate vicinity were unpainted, ramshackle
buildings, saloons, cheap stores and hovel-like houses. In front of the
saloons and stores lounged a few slovenly, ambition-lacking loafers,
while slatternly women and dirty children were seen in the doorways or
leaning from the open windows of the wretched houses.
On the station platform had gathered the usual crowd, including those
who came to the train from necessity and those drawn thither by
curiosity. There was also a surprisingly large gathering of boys of
various ages, from six to eighteen.
Frank walked briskly along to the baggage car and noted that the baggage
belonging to his party was put off there. Then he glanced around, as if
in search of some one.
“I wonder where Mr. Gaddis is?” he said. “He was to meet us at the
station.”
A big, hulking six-footer, with ham-like hands and a thick neck, stepped
forward from the van of a mixed crowd of about twenty tough-looking
young fellows who had flocked down the platform behind Merry and his
party.
“Are you Frank Merriwell?” asked the huge chap, who was about twenty
years old, as he held the butt of a half-smoked cheroot in the corner of
his capacious mouth.
“Yes, sir,” answered Merry promptly. “Do you represent Joseph Gaddis?”
“I should say not!” was the retort. “Not by a blame sight.”
“I thought not,” said Frank.
“Oh, ye did? What made ye think not, hey?”
“You are not just the sort of man I expected to meet. Do you know Mr.
Gaddis?”
“Do I? Some!”
“Isn’t he here?”
“I reckon not.”
“Where is he?”
“Ask me!”
Although the manner of the big fellow was openly insolent, Merry did not
seem to notice it.
The motley crowd accompanying this man were grinning or scowling at
Merriwell and his friends, while some of them made half-audible comments
of an unflattering sort. They were tall, short, stout, and thin, but one
and all they carried the atmosphere of tough characters.
“It’s rather odd, Bart,” said Frank, speaking to Hodge, who was
surveying the crowd with dark disapproval, “that Gaddis should fail to
keep his appointment to meet us here.”
“No it ain’t odd,” contradicted the big chap. “He knowed better than to
be here. You made some sort of arrangement with him to play a game of
baseball in this town, didn’t ye?”
“Yes.”
“Well, fergit it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Fergit it. You’ll be wastin’ a whole lot of time if you stop here, an’
you’ll put yourselves to a heap of inconvenience. You won’t play no
baseball with Gaddis’ team, so you’d better hop right back onter the
train and continue your ride.”
Merry now surveyed the speaker from his head to his feet.
“I happen to have a contract with Mr. Gaddis,” he said. “How is it that
you have so much authority? Who are you?”
“I’m Mat Madison, and I happen to know what I’m talkin’ about. Joe
Gaddis has changed his mind about playin’ baseball with you. He ain’t
goin’ to play baseball no more this season.”
“Did he send you here to tell me this?” demanded Frank, his eyes
beginning to gleam with an ominous light.
“No, he didn’t send me; I come myself.”
“Then you haven’t any real authority.”
“Is that so! You bet I have! I’m giving it to you on the level when I
say you won’t play no baseball game in Cartersville, and the wisest
thing you can do is to step right back onter this train and git out. In
short, I’m here to see that you _do_ git back onter the train, and I
brought my backers. If you don’t git we’ll have to make ye git.”
By this time Frank’s friends were gathered at his back, ready for
anything that might happen. They scented trouble, although they could
not understand the cause of it.
“I have no idea of leaving Cartersville until I see Mr. Gaddis,” said
Merry, with cool determination. “If he fails to keep his agreement with
me, I propose to collect one hundred and fifty dollars forfeit money.”
“Oh, haw! haw! You do, do ye? Well, when you collect a hundred and fifty
from Joe Gaddis you’ll be bald-headed. There ain’t no time for foolin’.
The train will pull out pretty soon, so you want to hop right back onto
it and go along. If you don’t, I’ll make you hop. Git that?”
“If you bother me I’ll feel it my duty to make you regret your action.
Get that?”
“Why, you thunderin’ fool, you don’t mean to fight, do ye? I’ll knock
the head off your shoulders!”
“I don’t think you will.”
“Then take this!”
As he snarled forth the words, Madison struck viciously at Frank’s face
with his right fist.
Merry ducked like a flash, at the same time throwing up his left hand
and catching the fellow’s wrist. With this hold, he gave a strong, sharp
pull in the same direction that Madison had started, at the same time
jerking the fellow’s arm downward. While doing this, Merry stooped and
thrust his right arm between the ruffian’s legs, grasping Madison’s
right leg back of the knee. In this manner he brought the bruiser across
his back and shoulders in such a way that the fellow had no time to
recover and was losing his balance when Frank suddenly straightened up
with a heaving surge.
To the amazement of Madison’s friends, the fellow was sent flying
through the air clear of the platform, striking the ground on his head
and shoulders.
Merry calmly turned to look after the baggage, not giving his late
assailant as much as a glance after the latter struck the ground.
Madison was somewhat stunned. He sat up, holding his hands to his head
and looking bewildered. A number of his friends sprang from the platform
and gathered around him.
The young toughs were astounded by the manner in which Merry had met
Madison’s assault. If before that they had contemplated an attack on
Frank and his party, the sudden disposal of their leader caused them to
falter and change their plan.
Hans Dunnerwurst chuckled as he looked after Madison.
“Maype you vill holdt that for a vile,” he observed.
“There is something wrong about this business here in Cartersville,
fellows,” said Frank; “but we’ll find out what it is. If Gaddis squeals
on his contract with me, I’m going to see if he cannot be compelled to
pay the forfeit.”
“That’s business,” nodded Hodge. “I’ll wager he sent these thugs to
frighten us away, so he wouldn’t be compelled to pay the money. If we
didn’t stop, he could get out of it.”
“Whereupon we’ll linger,” murmured Jack Ready.
“Somebody’s gug-gug-going to fuf-fuf-find out we mean bub-bub-business!”
stuttered Gamp.
“I opine one chap has found it out already,” observed Buck Badger dryly.
“It must have been a shock to him,” said Dade Morgan, a gleam of
satisfaction in his dark eyes.
“Glad he tackled Frank,” yawned Browning, with a wearied air. “I don’t
feel like exerting myself after that infernally uncomfortable car ride.”
“The gentleman experienced a taste of jutsuju—I mean jujutsu,” laughed
Harry Rattleton.
“Sorry Merry had to soil his hands on the big loafer,” said Dick
Starbright, taking off his hat and tossing back his mane of golden hair.
“It was a clever piece of business,” admitted Jim Stretcher; “but two
years ago, at a fair in Tipton, Missouri, I saw a little piece of
business that——”
“Don’t tell it—don’t dare to tell it!” exclaimed Badger. “I’m from
Kansas, and I’m sick of hearing these powerful extravagant tales about
Missouri. If you mention Missouri in my hearing for the next three days
you’ll be in danger of sudden destruction. That’s whatever!”
“You’re jealous, and I don’t blame you,” said Jim. “If I lived in Kansas
I’d never acknowledge it. It was the last place created, and made out of
mighty poor material. Everybody in Kansas worth knowing has moved out.”
“Which is a genuine Irish bull,” said Morgan.
“All aboard,” called the conductor.
A few moments later the train pulled out.
In the meantime, Mat Madison had recovered and regained his feet. The
result of his attack on Merriwell had astonished him no less than it did
his followers. Even after recovering from the shock he could not
understand just what had happened to him, although he realized that, in
some manner, he had been sent spinning through the air. It had dazed
him. After regaining his feet he asked one of the young toughs what had
happened.
“Why,” was the answer, “he just grabbed you and throwed you, that’s
all.”
“Oh, he throwed me, did he?” growled Madison, a vicious look on his
face. “Well, I ruther think I’ll throw him next time. He’ll git all
that’s coming now!”
“That’s right, Mad!” encouraged his followers. “You didn’t hit him
because he dodged. Go for him again. Grab him this time before he can
grab you.”
“Just watch me,” advised the thug, as he sprang to the platform.
Without warning, Madison came quickly up behind Merry, throwing his arms
round Frank, in this manner pinning the arms of the latter to his sides.
“Now I’ve got ye, burn your hide!” snarled the ruffian. “You worked a
slick trick on me t’other time, but you can’t do it aga——”
He did not finish; Frank gave him no further time for speech.
Down Merry dropped to one knee, causing the man’s arms to slip up about
his neck. Before Madison could get a strangle hold, even as he dropped
to his knee, Frank caught the ruffian’s right hand and twisted it
outward, bringing the palm upward. With his other hand Frank secured a
hold on Madison’s wrist, and then he jerked downward, bending far
forward.
Mat Madison’s feet left the ground, his heels flew through the air and
he went turning over Merry’s head, landing flat on his back in front of
the undisturbed young man.
The town toughs, who had fancied their leader had the stranger foul,
were even more astonished than by Madison’s first failure.
Merriwell rose to his feet, stood with his hands on his hips and
regarded his fallen assailant with a pitying smile.
Frank’s friends—the most of them—seemed amused over the affair, and
either smiled broadly or laughed outright. Hodge and Morgan were the
only ones who betrayed no mirth.
“Jee-roo-sa-lum!” cried one of the tough youngsters. “Did you see that,
fellers?”
“How did he do it?” gasped another.
“Why, he throws Mad just as e-e-easy!”
“He’s a slippery chap!”
“Slippery! He’s quicker’n lightnin’!”
“Strong as a bull!”
“Full of slick tricks!”
The astonishment of Madison’s friends was somewhat ludicrous. They had
expected the bully to handle the clean, quiet young man with perfect
ease, especially when he seemed to obtain such a great advantage by
seizing Merry from the rear.
Madison’s arm had been given a severe wrench, but the fellow rose
quickly, not yet subdued or satisfied.
“I ain’t done with ye,” he snarled; “I ain’t done yet!”
“That’s unfortunate—for you,” declared Frank, wholly undisturbed.
“I’ll kill ye yet!”
“You frighten me.”
But the tone of voice in which Merriwell spoke the words told he was not
frightened in the least.
Madison was breathing heavily, his huge breast heaving, as he rose and
confronted Frank. With his hands hanging at his sides, the young man who
had twice taken a fall out of the bully seemed utterly off his guard and
unable to defend himself quickly.
The thug stepped in, suddenly shooting out his left fist toward Merry’s
solar plexus, hoping to get in a knockout blow.
Merriwell sidestepped in a manner that caused the bruiser to miss
entirely. With his right hand Frank caught the fellow’s left wrist,
giving the middle of his arm a sharp rap with the side of his left hand,
thus causing it to bend. Instantly twisting the man’s arm outward and
bending it backward, Frank placed his left hand against Madison’s elbow
and pushed toward the thug’s right side. In the meantime, Merry had
placed his right foot squarely behind Madison’s left. Madison found
himself utterly unable to resist, and, almost before he realized that he
was helpless, he was hurled over backward with great violence.
“Maype dot blatform vill lay sdill on you a vile,” observed Dunnerwurst,
as Madison fell with a terrible thud.
“Three times and out,” murmured Jack Ready.
“It ain’t no use!” exclaimed one of Madison’s backers. “Mat can’t do
this chap on ther level. He’s up against a better man.”
Madison thought so, too. He was beginning to realize that he had
encountered his master, although the thought filled him with rage he
could not express. For some time he had been the bully of Cartersville,
universally feared by the younger set of hoodlums, and in that period he
had not encountered any one who could give him anything like an argument
in a fight. He had expected to handle Merriwell with ease, and the ease
with which he was defeated made the whole affair seem like an unreal and
unpleasant dream. Furthermore, he knew that never after this would he be
regarded with the same degree of respect and awe by the young ruffians
of the town. Having seen him handled in such a simple manner by a calm,
smiling stranger, they would never again look on him as invincible.
The encounter had been witnessed by others besides those immediately
interested. Madison was well known and feared in Cartersville, and the
loafers about the station, as well as those who had business there, saw
him defeated for the first time in his career of terrorism. Although
some of them rejoiced over it, yet nearly all were still too much awed
by his record to express themselves.
The treatment he had received at the hands of Merriwell had wrenched and
bruised the ruffian, whose arms and shoulders felt as if they had been
twisted nearly out of their joints. The fellow got up slowly after the
third fall.
Some fancied he would attempt to get at Merriwell again, but he had been
checked and cowed most effectively. He stood beyond Frank’s reach and
glared, his face showing his fury, while his huge hands twitched
convulsively.
The language that flowed from the lips of the ruffian was of a character
to make any hearer shudder in case he possessed any degree of decency.
“That will do!” interrupted Merry sharply, the pleasant expression
leaving his face. “Not another word of it! Close up instantly!”
“What if I don’t?” demanded Madison.
“Then what you have received from me is a mere taste beside what you’ll
get,” promised Frank.
Madison turned to his followers.
“What’s the matter with you?” he snarled. “What made you stand round and
see him do stunts with me? Why didn’t you light on him, you muckers?”
“We were waiting and pining for them to make some such movement, gentle
sir,” observed Jack Ready.
“Yah!” cried Dunnerwurst. “Id vould haf peen very bleasing for us to
seen id did.”
“You told us you’d do ther whole thing when we came down to the station,
Mad,” reminded one of the gang.
“We was waitin’ for ye to do it,” said another grimly.
“Of vaiting you haf become tiredness,” observed Hans. “You don’d blame
me vor dot.”
Madison started to pour forth vile language again, but Merry took a
single step in his direction and he stopped, lifting his hands to defend
himself.
“I don’t care to touch you again,” said Frank; “but if I hear two more
words of that character from your lips I’ll take another fall out of
you.”
“You’re mighty brave now!” muttered the tough; “but I ain’t done with
ye. No man ever flung Mat Madison round like a bag of rags and didn’t
regret it. You’d been better off if you’d took my advice and left on
that train. Now you can’t leave before to-morrer, and I’m going to
square up with you before you git away.”
“I don’t fancy your threats, any more than your vile language. I’ll take
neither from you. We came to this town to play baseball, and we propose
to do so—or know the reason why.”
“You won’t play no baseball here, and don’t you think ye will. That’s
all settled. There won’t be no more baseball in this town as long as Joe
Gaddis tries to run things.”
“What’s the matter with Gaddis?”
“You’ll find out—mebbe. There ain’t no baseball team here now.”
“No ball team?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“It don’t make no difference whether you believe it or not. You go ahead
and investigate. Mebbe you’ll have a good time stopping in Cartersville,
but I don’t think it.”
“Oh, they’ll have fun!” sneered one of the crowd.
“Carey Cameron will see about that.”
“Shut up, Bilker!” snapped Madison. “You ain’t to call no names.”
“Who is Carey Cameron?” asked Merry promptly.
But no one would answer the question.
Madison turned away, after giving Merriwell another glaring look of
hatred, and the young ruffians flocked after him.
“Well,” said Merry, “that incident is closed for the present. Now we’ll
find a hotel and secure accommodations.”
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