CHAPTER XI.

FALSE REPORTS.

Moslof seized Frank's hand and shook it heartily.

"That Rockland affair didn't amount to anything, after all, did it?" he

asked.

"No," said Merry; "the chap who caused my arrest skipped out when he

learned that Jack Benjamin, the man I bought the yacht of, was in

Rockland. He didn't stay to press the complaint of theft. He thought

Benjamin had gone to Alaska. It must have been a frightful shock to him.

You've met Diamond? Yes. Let me introduce Bart Hodge."

"Hodge!" cried Moslof. "You caught for Merriwell this season? Jove! but

you made a record for a freshman! I am glad to know you, Hodge."

They shook hands, and Moslof said:

"Here is McDornick, our left fielder, the biggest little crank on earth

and the best base runner in the Knox County League, if I do say so! We

need more of them, too."

McDornick shook hands all round, spluttered a little about the "beastly

luck" the Camdens had been having, and ended by swearing that Camden

would "wipe up the earth" with Rockland before the season was over. He

was very vehement in his expressions.

"We've been awfully weak in the box," said Moslof. "Bascomb, of the

University of Maine, is a good little man, but he has had poor luck

against the Rocklands. That's the trouble with our pitchers. They are

all right against Thomaston, but they do not work to advantage against

Rockland, and I'll swear that Thomaston has the heaviest batting team."

"If often works that way," said Frank.

"But the worst of it is," Moslof went on, "Rockland has a pitcher who is

a hoodoo for Camden. He is pie for Thomaston, but he makes monkeys of

our men."

"Who is he?"

"Dayguild, late of the New England League. Rockland has found out that

he can play thunder with Camden, and they hold him back for us all the

time. They don't care about Thomaston; it's Camden they want to beat."

"How is it with Camden?"

"Well," laughed Moslof, "to tell the truth, the feeling is just as

strong up there. We'd give our boots to down Rockland, and we don't care

so much about Thomaston. I played with Rockland last year. They used me

well down there, but said I couldn't bat any. That made me mad. This

year for the first two weeks of our season I led the league in batting.

I am falling off a little, but still I am ahead of the average. They are

beginning to change their mind down there about my batting."

"Well," said Merry, "we are going to see your game this afternoon. I

suppose it will be pretty hot?"

"Hot! You bet! I expect Woods and Makune, of the disbanded Portlands,

here by noon. We have Williamson, of the Lewistons, but he has been ill

and is not in the best form. We're going to do our best to take the lead

again to-day. Woods is a dandy little pitcher and a fine fellow."

"But if we had you, Merriwell, we'd be all right," said McDornick. "Say,

old man, won't you pitch for us this afternoon? Makune will cover

second, and we can put Woods anywhere. With you in the box, we can

paralyze Rockland."

Frank shook his head.

"It's no use," he said. "I can't play with you."

"I hope the stories that fellow has been telling about you are not

true," said Moslof, slowly.

"What stories?"

"Why, he's been saying that Rockland had secured you sure--that you came

down into Maine on purpose to pitch for Rockland. When I told him you

had given me your word to pitch for Camden if you pitched at all, he

laughed in my face, and said I was easily fooled. He swore that he knew

for an absolute fact that you had signed with Rockland."

As Frank listened to this, he flushed and then turned pale. There came a

dangerous fire into his eyes, and he laughed in a manner that was a

danger signal for those who knew him best.

"Moslof," he said, "you must know these reports are lies. You must know

I can't sign a contract, as that would bar me from college baseball."

"I didn't believe it," said the manager of the Camdens; "but there are

plenty who did, and the men who are backing the club here are sore on me

for letting you get away after helping you out of that scrape in

Rockland. If Rockland got you now, I'd jump this town in a hurry."

"Don't let that worry you a bit, old man. I said I would pitch for

Camden if I pitched at all, and I rather think I am known as a man of my

word."

Moslof seemed relieved.

"Oh, say!" exclaimed McDormick, impulsively, "just pitch this game for

us this afternoon! We'll sink the knife deep into Rockland!"

"I hate to refuse," said Frank; "but I must. What I want to know is, who

this fellow is who has been telling that Rockland had me."

"Oh, he is a fly chap who is stopping at the Bay View--a summer

boarder."

"What does he look like?"

"He's a loud dresser--wears plaids, pink shirts, lots of rings, loud

neckties, and so forth."

"What's he look like in the face? How old is he?"

"He may be nineteen. His eyes are set near together, and he is freckled

and foxy looking."

"He's a sneak!" broke out McDornick, in his impulsive way. "I knew it

the first time I saw him."

"Where is the Bay View?" asked Merriwell.

"Right there," answered Moslof, motioning toward a large building

sitting back on the opposite side of the street.

"This fellow is stopping there?"

"Yes."

"What is his name?"

"Don't know."

"Let's go over. I want to see that gentleman. I hope we may find him

around the hotel."

"If you'll punch him, I'll pay your fine!" said the hot-headed

McDornick, as they crossed the street.

While they had been talking in front of the opera house, a small boy was

standing near them, his hands clasped and an ecstatic look of happiness

on his face, while his eyes were not taken off Frank Merriwell for a

moment. When Frank had started to cross the street with the others, the

boy heaved a sigh.

A gentleman who was passing stopped and looked at the boy in surprise.

"Well, my little man," said the gentleman, "what is the trouble? You

look as if you had seen a vision."

"I've jest seen somebody I never thought I'd see," said the boy. "Oh,

I'd like to grow up and be famous like him! It must be fine to be

famous."

"My boy," said the gentleman, encouragingly, "if you live you may be a

great man some day."

"I can't never be like the feller I've just seen."

"Why, who could this wonderful person have been? I didn't know there was

such a famous man stopping in Camden at present. Was it the governor of

the State?"

"Naw! Somebody bigger'n him!"

"A United States Senator, perhaps?"

"Senators ain't in it with this feller!"

"Really! You surprise and interest me. It could not have been the

President of the United States?"

"Bigger feller than the Prince of Wales! Oh, if I could grow up to be

like him!"

"Now I am astounded!" exclaimed the gentleman. "Who can this wonderful

person be? Won't you tell me his name?"

"His name is Frank Merriwell, and he is a lollypolooser! He's the most

wonderful feller living in the whole world."

"Frank Merriwell?" repeated the gentleman, in perplexity. "It's strange

I never heard of him. What has he ever done?"

"Done?" cried the boy, excitedly and enthusiastically. "What ain't he

done? He's traveled round the world, shot panthers and Greasers in South

America, gorillas in Africa, tigers in India, elephants in Ceylon, and

bears and other critters out West in this country. Done? Why, he made a

bicycle trip across the country from New York to San Francisco, and he

licked everybody that tried to bother him on the way. Done? Mister, he

goes to Yale College, and he is the greatest football player in the

world! He pitches on the Yale nine, and he wiped up the earth with

Harvard and Princeton this spring. Done? If there's a thing that feller

ain't done an' can't do, I want ter know it!"

The gentleman was gasping for breath.

"Really!" he said, "a most remarkable person! And you want to grow up

and be like him?"

"If I thought I could--if I ever did, I'd die happy!"

"Strange I never heard of this person before. I don't believe he is very

well known."

"Now, don't fool yourself, mister. He's known by every boy in the United

States! We've all heard of him, and all the boys down in this town would

give anything to be like him. I tell you he is a bird!"

"Where is he now?"

"He's just gone over to the Bay View with Moslof and some other

fellers."

"Really, I believe I'll have to go over and see what this wonderful

person looks like," and the gentleman crossed the street toward the

hotel.

In the meantime Frank and his companions entered the hotel in search of

the person who had been circulating the false reports about Merriwell.

The report that Merriwell was in town had reached the hotel, and no

sooner had the boys entered the office than the landlord came forward

and greeted them heartily. Moslof introduced Merry and his two friends.

The landlord proved to be a cordial, pleasant gentleman.

"Mr. Merriwell," he said, "you have caused me no end of trouble."

"I have?" exclaimed Frank, astonished.

"Yes."

"How is that?"

"Well, there isn't a table girl, a kitchen girl or any other girl in

this house who does not know all about you. They read those yarns about

you so much that they neglect their business. And, Mr. Merriwell," with

sudden sternness, "I think you will have to settle with me for it."

"All right," smiled Frank. "What is the bill?"

"There is no bill. I mean you have to settle at this hotel and stay here

while you are in town. There will be no bill. You shall have the best

the house affords, and it shall not cost you a red cent."

Frank was surprised, but he thanked the genial landlord, saying:

"Really, sir, you are too kind, but we have everything comfortable on my

yacht, and the fellows would not like it if I deserted them."

"Then bring them all here! I'm crowded, but I'll find room for you, if I

have to give up a room myself."

He was in earnest, too.

Frank thanked him warmly once more, but exclaimed that such a thing

would not do, as the _White Wings_ might be stolen by the party who had

attempted to seize her in the very mouth of Rockland harbor.

While they were talking, a very pretty, roguish-eyed girl came into the

office, making an excuse that she was there on some sort of an errand.

She cast sly glances at Frank, for really she was there to see him.

Of a sudden the landlord, laughing, caught her by the arm, and drew her

round, saying:

"Here, Mr. Merriwell, is your greatest admirer in the house, Miss Phebe

Macey. I heard her say once that she thought Frank Merriwell the finest

fellow in the world, and she wondered why some of the Camden boys were

not like him."

Frank was a little confused, but he lifted his cap and bowed, saying:

"Miss Macey, I am glad to know I have such an ardent admirer here."

Phebe was blushing crimson, but the roguish look was still in her eyes.

Never in all her life had she looked prettier than in that moment of

excitement and confusion. She lifted her hand and felt it grasped by

Frank, and then, in dismay, she turned and fled, laughing to cover her

agitation. She quickly disappeared, but her laugh rang in Merriwell's

ears, for it was quite as bewitching as her roguish eyes.

The landlord seemed to enjoy the agitation he had caused the girl, and

he laughed again. In fact, he was quite a man to laugh.

He urged Frank to remain to dinner, and Merry finally consented,

although Jack and Bart, who were likewise invited, decided to return to

the yacht.

While they were talking, Moslof suddenly grasped Merriwell's arm, saying

in his ear:

"Here's the fellow you want to see."

He turned Frank toward a person who had just entered the office. In a

moment Merry advanced toward that person, confronted him, and sternly

said:

"So, sir, having failed to injure me in other ways, you have been lying

about me! Well, it's quite like you, Snell!"

"Merriwell?" gasped the other, recoiling and turning pale. "The

dickens!"

Frank and his old foe, Wat Snell, were again face to face.

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