ON THE REAR PLATFORM.
A feeling of exultant satisfaction flashed over Merriwell, and he
quickly stepped out onto the platform, closing the door behind him.
The woman turned and looked toward him.
The train was racing along, the track seeming to fly away from beneath
the last car.
It was a strange place for a woman to be, out there on the rear
platform, and Merry's first thought had been that it must be the woman
he sought, for had she not come out there to escape him? She had fancied
he would look through the car, fail to find her, and decide that she was
not on the train. It must be that she had seen Hodge come in, and had
realized at once why he had entered the car. When he departed to carry
the information to Frank, the desperate woman had fled to the rear
platform.
Immediately on stepping out onto the platform, however, Frank decided
that his reasoning was at fault.
It was a veiled woman, and she was in black, but it was not the woman he
sought. It was not the woman who had caused his arrest in Denver!
Merry was disappointed.
The unknown looked at him, and said nothing. He looked at her and
wondered. The veil was thick and baffling.
"Madam," he said, "this is a dangerous place."
She said nothing.
"You are liable to become dizzy out here and meet with an accident," he
pursued. "If you should fall--well, you know what that would mean. It is
remarkable that you should come out here."
"The air," she murmured, in a hoarse, husky voice. "The car was
stifling, and I needed the air. I felt ill in there."
"All the more reason why you should not come out here," declared Frank,
solicitously. "You could have had a window opened, and that would have
given you air."
"The window stuck."
"It must be some of them would open. If you will return, I'll endeavor
to find you a seat by an open window."
"Very kind of you," she said, in the same peculiar, husky voice. "Think
I'll stay out here. Don't mind me."
"Then I trust you will permit me to remain, and see that you do not meet
with any misfortune?"
"No. Go! Leave me! I had rather remain alone."
She seemed like a middle-aged lady. He observed that her clothes fitted
her ill, and her hands were large and awkward. She attempted to hide
them.
All at once, with a suddenness that staggered him, the truth burst on
Frank.
The woman was no woman at all! It was a man in disguise!
Merry literally gasped for a single instant, but he recovered at once.
Through his head flashed a thought:
"This must be some criminal who is seeking to escape justice!"
Immediately Frank resolved to remain on the platform at any hazard. He
would talk to the disguised unknown.
"The motion of the train is rather trying to one who is not accustomed
to it," he said. "Some people feel it quite as much as if they were on a
vessel. Car sickness and seasickness are practically the same thing."
She looked at him through the concealing veil, but did not speak.
"I have traveled considerable," he pursued, "but, fortunately, I have
been troubled very little with sickness, either on sea or land."
"Will you be kind enough to leave me!" came from behind the veil, in
accents of mingled imploration and anger.
"I could not think of such a thing, madam!" he bowed, as gallantly as
possible. "It is my duty to remain and see that you come to no harm."
"I shall come to no harm. You are altogether too kind! Your kindness is
offensive!"
"I am very sorry you regard it thus, but I know my duty."
"If you knew half as much as you think, you would go."
"I beg your pardon; it is because I do know as much as I think that I do
not go."
The unknown was losing patience.
"Go!" he commanded, and now his voice was masculine enough to betray
him, if Frank had not dropped to the trick before.
"No," smiled Merry, really beginning to enjoy it, "not till you go in
yourself, madam."
The train lurched round a curve, causing the disguised unknown to swing
against the iron gate. Frank sprang forward, as if to catch and save the
person from going over, but his real object was to apparently make a
mistake and snatch off the veil.
The man seemed to understand all this, for he warded off Frank's clutch,
crying:
"I shall call for aid! I shall seek protection!"
"It would not be the first time to-day that a veiled woman has done such
a thing," laughed Frank,
The disguised man stared at him again. Merry fairly itched to snatch
away the veil.
"If you are seeking air, madam," he suggested, "you had better remove
your veil. It must be very smothering, for it seems to be quite thick."
"You are far too anxious about me!" snapped the disguised man. "I would
advise you to mind your own business!"
This amused Merry still more. The situation was remarkably agreeable to
him.
"In some instances," he said, politely, "your advice would be worth
taking, but an insane person should be carefully watched, and that is
why I am minding your business just now."
"An insane person?"
"Exactly."
"Do you mean that I am insane?"
"Well, I trust you will excuse me, but from your appearance and your
remarkable behavior, it seems to me that you should be closely guarded."
That seemed to make the unknown still more angry, but it was plain he
found difficulty in commanding words to express himself.
"You're a fool!" he finally snapped.
"Thank you!" smiled Frank.
"You're an idiot!"
"Thank you again."
"You are the one who is crazy!"
"Still more thanks."
"How have I acted to make you fancy me demented?"
"You are out here, and you may be contemplating self-destruction by
throwing yourself from this train."
"Don't worry about that. I am contemplating nothing of the sort."
"But there are other evidences of your insanity."
"Oh, there are?"
"Yes."
As the disguised unknown did not speak, Merry went on:
"The strongest evidence of your unbalanced state of mind is the
ill-chosen attire you are wearing."
"What do you mean?"
"Why are you not dressed in the garments of your sex?"
"Sir?"
"You are not a woman," declared Frank, coolly; "but a man in the
garments of a woman. Your disguise is altogether too thin. It would not
deceive anybody who looked you over closely. You are----"
Frank got no further. With a cry of anger, the disguised unknown sprang
at him, grappled with him, panted in his ear:
"You are altogether too sharp, Frank Merriwell! This time you have
overshot yourself! This ends you!"
Then he tried to fling Merry from the swiftly moving train.
Frank instantly realized that it was to be a struggle for life, and he
met the assault as quickly and stiffly as he could; but the disguised
man seemed, of a truth, to have the strength of an insane person. In his
quick move, the fellow had forced Frank back against the gate, and over
this, he tried to lift and hurl him.
"No you don't!" came from Merry's lips.
"Curse you!" panted the fellow. "I will do it!"
"Yes, you will--I don't think!"
In the desperate struggle, both seemed to hang over the gate for a
moment. Then Frank slid back, securing a firm grip, and felt safe.
Just then, however, the door of the car flew open, and out sprang Hodge.
Bart saw what was happening in a moment, and he leaped to Merry's aid.
Out on a high trestle that spanned a roaring, torrent-like river rumbled
the train.
Bart clutched Frank, gave the disguised man a shove, and----
Just how it happened, neither of them could tell afterward, but over the
gate whirled the man, and down toward the seething torrent he shot!
Up from that falling figure came a wild cry of horror that was heard
above the fumbling roar of the train on the trestle bridge.
Over and over the figure turned, the skirts fluttering, and then
headlong it plunged into the white foam of the torrent, disappearing
from view.
On the rear platform of the last car two white-faced, horrified young
men had watched the terrible fall. They stared down at the swirling
river, looking for the unfortunate wretch to reappear. Off the bridge
flew the train, and no longer were they able to see the river.
"He's gone!" came hoarsely from Bart.
"Then you saw--you knew it was a man?" cried Frank.
"Yes, I saw his trousers beneath the skirts as I came out the door."
"This is terrible!" muttered Frank.
"He was trying to throw you over?"
"Yes; attempted to take me off my guard and hurl me from the train."
"Then the wretch has met a just fate," declared Bart.
But now it seemed that the struggle on the platform had been noticed by
some one within the car. There were excited faces at the glass in the
door, and a trainman came out, demanding:
"What is all this? Why are you out here? They tell me a woman came out.
Where is she?"
With unusual readiness, Bart quickly answered:
"She's gone--jumped from the train."
"Jumped?"
"Yes. We both tried to save her. Just as I reached the door I saw my
friend struggling to hold her, but she was determined to fling herself
over."
"Well, this is a fine piece of business!" came angrily from the
trainman. "What ailed her?"
"She must have been insane," asserted Bart. "She attacked my friend
here, and then tried to jump off. He could not hold her. I did not get
hold of her in time."
"What was he doing out here?"
"Watching her. You will admit it was rather queer for a woman to come
out here on the platform and stand. He thought so, and so he came out to
watch her."
"Well, you can both come in off this platform!" growled the trainman, in
anything but a civil manner.
They did so. The passengers swarmed round them when they entered the
car, literally flinging questions at them.
"Who was the woman?"
"What ailed her?"
"Why did she go out there?"
"What did she do?"
"Tell us about it!"
Again Bart made the explanation, and then there arose a babel.
"I noticed her," declared one. "I saw she looked queer."
"I noticed her," asserted another. "I saw she acted queer."
"I saw her when she went out," put in a third, "and I thought it was a
crazy thing to do."
"Without doubt the woman was insane," declared a pompous fat man.
"She must have been instantly killed."
"She jumped into the river."
"Then, she was drowned."
"Who knows her?"
"She was all alone."
Frank had been thinking swiftly all the while. He regretted that Bart
had been so hasty in making his explanation, and now he resolved to tell
as near the truth as possible without contradicting Hodge.
"Gentlemen and ladies," he said, "I have every reason for believing that
the person was a man."
Then there were cries of astonishment and incredulity.
"A man?"
"Impossible!"
"Never!"
"Ridiculous!"
But an elderly lady, who wore gold-bowed spectacles, calmly said:
"The young gentleman is correct, I am quite sure. The person in question
sat directly in front of me, and I discovered there was something wrong.
I felt almost certain it was a man before he got up and went out on the
platform."
Then there was excitement in the car. A perfect torrent of questions was
poured on Frank.
Merry explained that he had thought it rather remarkable that a woman
should be standing all alone on the rear platform, and, after going out
and speaking to the person, he became convinced that it was a man in
disguise. Then he told how the man, on being accused, had attacked him
furiously, and finally had seemed to fling himself over the iron gate.
It was a great sensation, but no one accused either Merry or Bart of
throwing the unknown over, not a little to Frank's relief.
At last, they got away and went forward into the car where the company
was gathered. Havener and Gallup had been holding the double seat, and
Frank and Bart sat down there.
"Well, I fancy you failed to find the lady you were looking for," said
Havener. "But what's the matter? You look as if something has happened."
"Something has," said Frank, grimly.
"Gol-darned ef I don't b'lieve it!" exclaimed Ephraim. "Both yeou an'
Hodge show it. Tell us abaout it."
Frank did so in a very few words, astonishing both Ephraim and the stage
manager.
"Waal," said the Vermonter, "the gal who tackled yeou in Denver warn't
no man."
"Not much," said Frank, "and it is remarkable that Hodge should have
mistaken a man for such a woman as I described."
"Didn't," said Bart.
"But you have acknowledged that you believed this was a man."
"Yes, but this man was not the veiled woman I saw."
"Wasn't?"
"Not much!"
"By Jove!" exclaimed Frank. "The mystery deepens!"
"Did you mistake this person for the veiled woman I meant?"
"Sure thing."
"And did not find another?"
"Not a sign of one. I do not believe there is another on the train."
"Well, this is a mystery!" confessed Hodge. "I saw nothing of the one I
meant when I went to look for you."
"It must be you saw no one but that man in the first place."
Bart shook his head, flushing somewhat.
"Do you think I would take that man for a woman with a perfect figure,
such as you described? What in the world do you fancy is the matter with
my eyes?"
"By gum!" drawled Gallup. "This air business is gittin' too thick fer
me. I don't like so much mystery a bit."
"If that man was not the one you meant, Hodge," said Merry, "then the
mysterious woman is still on this train."
"That's so," nodded Bart.
"Find her," urged Frank. "I want to get my eyes on her more than ever.
Surely you should be able to find her."
"I'll do it!" cried Bart, jumping up.
Away he went.
Frank remained with Havener and Gallup, talking over the exciting and
thrilling adventure and the mystery of it all till Hodge returned. At a
glance Merry saw that his college friend had not been successful.
"Well," he said, "did you find her?"
"No," confessed Bart, looking crestfallen. "I went through the entire
train, and I looked every passenger over. The woman I meant is not on
this train."
"Then, it must be that your woman was the man who met his death in the
river. There is no other explanation of her disappearance. You must give
up now, Hodge."
But Hodge would not give up, although he could offer no explanation, and
the mystery remained unsolved.
There were numerous stops between Denver and Puelbo, and it was
nightfall before the train brought them to their destination. The sun
had dropped behind the distant Rockies, and the soft shades of a perfect
spring evening were gathering when they drew up at the station in
Puelbo.
Lights were beginning to twinkle in windows, and the streets were
lighted. "Props" had gone to look after the baggage, and the company was
gathered on the platform. Cabmen were seeking to attract fares.
Of a sudden, a cry broke from the lips of Bart Hodge:
"There she is!"
All were startled by his sudden cry. They saw him start from the others,
pointing toward a woman who was speaking to a cabman. That woman had
left the train and crossed the platform, and she was dressed in black
and heavily veiled.
Frank saw her--recognized her.
"By heavens! it is the woman," he exclaimed.