THE FIGHT ON THE TRAIN.
It happened that, as he was perched on the shoulders of his friends and
admirers, Frank Merriwell saw Flemming and Thornton in the further end
of the car.
Merriwell would not have given his enemies more than a passing glance,
but it occurred that he saw and recognized the man who was talking to
Flemming.
"It is the scoundrel who tried to bribe me!" muttered Frank, angrily.
"And he is with Flemming and Thornton! I fancy I smell a mouse."
Then he forced his friends to put him down, and, the moment he was on
his feet, he hastened along the aisle toward the end of the car, having
called Diamond to follow him.
The plotters saw Frank coming, and the expression on his face told them
that there was a storm brewing.
"By Jove!" fluttered Thornton, in alarm; "he looks as if he means to
thump somebody!"
Although he did not show it, Flemming was not a little alarmed by
Merriwell's angry appearance.
Several of the students gathered about the crew saw there was something
in the wind, and they followed Merriwell and Diamond down the crowded
aisle.
Halting within a short distance of his enemies, Frank pointed straight
at the stranger and cried:
"There he is! Take a good look at him, boys! That is the creature who
tried to bribe me to throw the ball game to Harvard!"
His words rang through the car, and were heard by every one. The uproar
and excitement that followed was quite unexpected by Frank.
A wild shout of anger broke from the college lads, and there was a
scramble for that end of the car.
"Mob the wretch!"
"Thump him!"
"Choke him!"
"Don't let him get away!"
These cries broke from the crowd of lads, who strove in mad haste to get
at the stranger.
"Great Christopher!" gasped Tom Thornton, in terror. "I'm going to get
out of this! It's altogether too hot for me!"
Then he tried to slip away.
Flemming did not know what to do. The manner of the angry lads was
alarming, and he saw no reason why he should defend a man who was quite
unknown to him.
But the stranger did not wait to be defended. With a wild shout, that
was like the war whoop of an Indian, he leaped up and lunged straight
into the crowd, striking out right and left.
In less than ten seconds a general fight was taking place in that end of
the car. Jack Diamond, who had a grudge against Tom Thornton, collared
Tom as he was trying to slip away.
"Hold on!" cried the Virginian. "You can't play the sneak in that way! I
saw you talking with that scoundrel! Did you and Flemming set him on to
bribe Merriwell?"
"I don't know anything about it!" protested Tom, struggling. "Let go,
Diamond!"
"Well, not in a hurry!" returned Jack. "I don't know where the money
came from, but I believe you and Flemming tried to ruin Merriwell by
bribing him to throw a game and then exposing him. If that was the
trick, you fooled yourselves. Frank Merriwell is not that kind of a
fellow!"
With a fierce exclamation, Thornton struck savagely at Jack's face, but
Diamond dodged the blow.
"Oh, you will, will you!" he cried, and then he gave Thornton a terrible
thump between the eyes.
In another moment they were at it fiercely.
Although Flemming was a big fellow with a reputation as a bully, Harry
Rattleton had not hesitated to lay hands on him.
"You're a chine fap--I mean a fine chap!" shouted Harry. "So you are
concerned in this attempted bribery!"
"Get out!" snarled Flemming. "I'll break your nose!"
"Break it!" invited Rattleton. "I'll try to do a little something while
you are about it!"
Flemming waited to say not another word, but, quick as a flash, he did
strike Harry a heavy blow on the jaw. Rattleton was staggered, but he
held on to Flemming. A moment later both were swept down by the rush of
the crowd.
It was something of a blind fight, and it waged with great fierceness,
although in an aimless manner, for some moments. Several of the windows
in the car were broken.
Bob Collingwood waded into the midst of the struggling mass of human
beings, scattering them with his powerful arms, and crying:
"Here, stop this senseless scrapping! Where is the fellow who tried to
bribe Merriwell?"
Where, indeed? All looked around for him, but he was gone. In some
manner he had made his escape in the midst of the tumult.
"He must be on the train!" cried Frank. "He can't escape from the train
till it stops! Here--I have his coat! He left it in my hands when the
crowd tore us apart."
Merriwell held up the garment.
"He must be in the car back of this!" declared Collingwood. "I want to
see him--I want to get a fair look at his face."
"I'd like to do something else to his face!" shouted another student.
"Think of any one offering a Yale pitcher money to throw a game to
Harvard!"
This brought a mad howl from the angry students.
Rattleton and Flemming had been torn apart during the struggle, and
Thornton and Diamond were separated, but not until Jack had thumped the
fellow he disliked, and done it several times.
Both Flemming and Thornton were forgotten. The excited students rushed
out by the open door, and crowded into the rear car, which was the only
one on the train to which the unknown man could have escaped.
"Where is he?" was the hoarse shout that went up, as the angry boys
packed into the car.
They looked desperate and dangerous, as if they were thirsting for human
blood.
At the farther end of the car a man in his shirt-sleeves crouched and
muttered:
"Well, derned if I expected to kick up this sort of a rumpus! I've seen
all kinds of mobs, but I will allow that this reminds me of a regular
Judge Lynch crowd, and no mistake. Never judged a lot of youngsters
would get stirred up this way any whatever. They're on a regular
rampage."
He kept out of sight as far as possible, feeling that it was the most
"healthy" thing to do.
"Where is he?" demanded Collingwood, who was just ahead of
Merriwell--"where is the man who belongs to this coat? He must have come
in here! Did a man in his shirt sleeves come in here?"
"Yes, yes!" replied several. "What has he been doing?"
"Doing!" roared "Dear Old Bob," flushed with anger. "Why, he is the
creature that tried to bribe Merriwell!"
It seemed that this piece of business was generally known, for
Collingwood's words produced a roar of indignation.
Down at the rear end of the car a young man stood up and shouted:
"This way! Here he is! He can't get away!"
Then it seemed that the students all spotted their game at the same
moment, and there was a fierce scramble for that end of the car.
The hunted man saw them coming, and a desperate look settled on his
face.
"I'd as lief fall into the clutches of a whole tribe of Apache Indians!"
he gasped. "They're after my scalp for sure!"
He leaped to the door, and tore it open.
"Stop!" rang out the voice of Frank Merriwell. "You cannot escape, for
you will be killed if you leap from the train!"
The man hesitated one moment. He saw the college lads rushing down the
aisle, and then, although the train was making a speed of at least forty
miles an hour, he descended the steps.
Collingwood and Merriwell came out through the open door. As they
reached the platform, they saw the man clinging in the darkness at the
foot of the steps. He was in a crouching position, his hands clasping
the iron holds. In the gloom his face seemed fully as white as the
sleeves of his shirt, which fluttered in the breeze.
"For Heaven's sake, don't jump!" cried Frank.
Collingwood tried to grasp the man by the arm. As he did so, the
mysterious man dropped from the steps, instantly disappearing in the
darkness.
"He's gone!" gasped Frank, horrified.
"Yes, he is gone!" said Collingwood, hoarsely. "That's the end of him,
for surely he was killed when he struck the ground!"