THE WEDDING.
Excitement in Bloomfield was at fever heat. Scores of visitors were in
the town. The old hotel was filled to overflowing. Nearly all these
guests were young men and women, and a pleasant, jovial lot they were.
Of course, the members of Frank’s athletic team were present to the
last man. Besides these there were others who had been his chums and
comrades in college. Bink Stubbs and Danny Griswold were together
again, fussing in their old, friendly way. Dismal Jones had turned
up from somewhere, as long-faced as ever, quoting Scripture to fit
all occasions. Grog Carker appeared more rabid in his socialistic
views than in the old days, and equally easy to lead into prophesying
the coming of the “great earthquake that should overturn the social
conditions of the whole world.”
A surprise that delighted every one was the appearance of Jack Diamond
and his handsome wife, Julia, bringing with them a little Diamond
somewhat more than a year old. Jack had “crossed the pond” to make a
visit in Virginia and arrived just in time to hasten to Bloomfield for
the wedding.
Barney Mulloy came on from the West, and his brogue seemed not a whit
changed, while his wit and good nature remained quite as infectious.
It was the day before the wedding. A select party assembled at the
station for the purpose of meeting Inza, who was to arrive on the
afternoon train, accompanied by Winnie Badger, with Buck Badger and
Bart Hodge as escorts.
Frank had reached Bloomfield earlier in the day.
As train time drew near a closed carriage that was quite unfamiliar
in the village drew up beside the station platform. The curtains at
the carriage windows were drawn. The carriage was drawn by two fiery
horses. On the seat sat the driver, a wide-brimmed hat slouched over
his eyes, while his features were almost wholly hidden by a profuse
mass of whiskers.
Some of the people on the platform observed the driver closely. One man
walked past and surveyed him. This man hastened to join some of the
loungers.
“Say!” he exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper, “I bet ten dollars that
feller’s wearin’ false whiskers!”
“Git out!” retorted several. “What makes you think so?”
“I seen Sile Levitt wear whiskers jest like them in the play over to
the Four Corners Schoolhouse last winter.”
“You’re luny! What would that man want to wear false whiskers for? He
ain’t in no play.”
Another carriage appeared. Mr. and Mrs. Diamond left it. They had come
to meet Inza.
The train whistled in the distance.
In a few moments it whistled for Bloomfield station. It came rushing up
to the platform and stopped. Inza and her companions were on board.
In the midst of the excitement the door of the strange closed carriage
opened and a pale-faced young man stepped out. He fixed his eyes on
Inza, who had descended from the train. She was dressed in a brown
traveling suit and was acknowledging the merry greetings of the friends
who had met her.
Bart Hodge had hastened away to look after the baggage.
The villagers were staring agape.
“Gosh!” exclaimed Bill Kimball, who had reached the station barely in
time to see the passengers descend. “That’s her—that stunnin’ gal in
brown! She’s got black eyes, an’ Toots told me she was black-eyed and
the handsomest gal in the world. That’s her!”
“Who’s that pale-faced feller that’s jest got out of that kerriage?”
asked a young chap, turning his quid of tobacco in his mouth. “He’s
actin’ almighty queer.”
The person referred to was approaching Inza from behind, stepping
softly. He was unobserved by the friends who surrounded her. Of a
sudden he stepped forward, flung his arms round her, caught her from
her feet and turned to dash with her toward the carriage. The door was
open. The driver had his whip poised.
Inza screamed.
The man who had seized her flung her into the carriage and leaped after
her, jerking the door closed with a slam.
The whip in the hands of the driver whistled through the air and cut
the horses.
Away they leaped.
The astounded people on the platform had seemed dazed, but now they
awoke and shouted.
Buck Badger, who had sauntered after Hodge, turned at Inza’s cry. He
saw her flung into the carriage and saw the desperate man leap after
her.
“The old boy’s to pay!” cried Buck, his hand going to his hip. “That’s
whatever!”
Two strides brought him to the edge of the platform. As the horses
turned toward the street beyond the station something bright glinted
in the hand of the Kansan. This thing was leveled and a spout of smoke
burst from it.
The sharp report of a revolver added to the excitement of the moment.
With that report one of the horses gave a convulsive leap and fell to
the ground, dragging the other horse down. The uninjured animal was so
entangled in the harness that he could do little damage kicking. The
carriage was overturned.
Men rushed to the spot. From the upset carriage they dragged Inza
Burrage, somewhat hysterical, yet practically unharmed. Likewise they
pulled out the young chap who had tried to carry her off in such a
crazy manner. He had been stunned, and made no resistance.
It was Fred Fillmore.
The village constable came bustling up while men and boys were at work
extricating the uninjured horse.
“What’s this mean?” he demanded. “Who’s guilty of breakin’ the law
here? Somebody’s goin’ to git arrested.”
“I opine there’s your man, officer,” said Buck Badger, pointing at
Fillmore. “He’s either a criminal or a lunatic, and either way he
should be taken into custody. That’s whatever.”
Hodge tried to reach Fillmore.
“The whelp!” he cried. “He——”
The constable seized the desperate young man.
“I arrest you in the name of the law!” he cried.
“Where’s the driver?” was the cry.
But the wearer of the false whiskers had found an opportunity to slip
away and improved it.
* * * * *
The little church was beautifully decorated and fragrant with flowers.
It was well filled. There was a hush. The organ began to throb and a
thrill ran over every person present.
Down one of the aisles slowly advanced the minister, carrying a little
book in his hands. At a distance behind him came Frank Merriwell,
looking handsomer than ever before in his life, accompanied by the best
man, his bosom friend, Bart Hodge.
Merry’s heart was beating high with the mighty exultation of the
grandest moment of his life. He turned with Bart and followed the
minister toward the altar.
Suddenly the sound of the organ changed. The music became the “Wedding
March.”
Down the centre aisle came a vision of loveliness, Inza Burrage in
snowy white, with her veil flowing round her. She was somewhat pale,
but never had she looked sweeter, and a more bridelike bride-to-be the
sun could not shine on.
She was followed by a pretty girl friend, who was acting as bridesmaid.
Elsie Bellwood was not there. That was the only thing that marred the
occasion.
As Inza approached the altar Frank stepped out and met her.
A splendid couple they made. Many an eye grew dim as they stood there
hand in hand and the minister began the ceremony.
No one dreamed what was to happen.
The ceremony had progressed until the minister was on the point of
pronouncing Frank and Inza man and wife, when there came a startling
interruption.
A wild-eyed youth dashed down the aisle.
“Hold!” he shouted. “I forbid this marriage!”
It was Fred Fillmore, who had somehow managed to escape from custody.
The poor fellow was insane in his desire to stop the wedding. Indeed,
drink and his passion for Inza had quite upset his mental poise.
Of course, his appearance created consternation, and Inza nearly
swooned.
It happened that the constable and two deputies were close after
Fillmore. They reached the church as Hodge, Badger, and Browning rushed
Fillmore down the aisle to the door.
“Let me have him!” cried the officer. “I bet, by gorry! he don’t git
away from me ag’in!”
“I should say you had better take care of him!” exclaimed Hodge, in
disgust.
Although the wedding had been thus interrupted, Inza bore up bravely
and the ceremony continued.
* * * * *
That night there was a merry reception and wedding feast in the old
home at Bloomfield. Frank and Inza were supremely happy, and their
friends were sharers of their happiness.
That day had seen the crowning triumphs of Frank Merriwell’s career.
In truth, Fred Fillmore was mentally unbalanced. It became necessary to
place him in a private sanitarium, although the examining physicians
announced that there was a fair prospect that he might recover in time.
THE END
The Merriwell boys again score in dramatic successes in life and win
additional friends in the next publication of the MERRIWELL SERIES,
called “Dick Merriwell, the Wizard,” No. 126, by Burt L. Standish.
The Dealer
who handles the STREET & SMITH NOVELS is a man worth patronizing. The
fact that he does handle our books proves that he has considered the
merits of paper-covered lines, and has decided that the STREET & SMITH
NOVELS are superior to all others.
He has looked into the question of the morality of the paper-covered
book, for instance, and feels that he is perfectly safe in handing one
of our novels to any one, because he has our assurance that nothing
except clean, wholesome literature finds its way into our lines.
Therefore, the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer is a careful and wise
tradesman, and it is fair to assume selects the other articles he
has for sale with the same degree of intelligence as he does his
paper-covered books.
Deal with the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer.
STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
79 Seventh Avenue New York City
End of Project Gutenberg's Frank Merriwell's Marriage, by Burt L. Standish