THE SNARE IS BROKEN.
When Frank parted from Inza that afternoon, he had made a free and full
confession of his fault. She had listened with pained surprise, almost
with incredulity, but she had not shown the scorn that Frank felt he
fully deserved. However, she had exacted a pledge, which he had freely
given, and, returning to the academy, he felt that he was himself once
more. His step was elastic, his heart was light, and he whistled a
lively strain.
That evening he had a long talk with Bart.
"Come, Bartley," urged Frank, "drop this card-playing, and give
attention to your studies."
Bart was in a bad mood, as he had been much of the time lately, and he
laughed harshly.
"You're a fine fellow to give that sort of advice when you cannot keep
away from the game yourself!" he said.
"But I can keep away," came quietly and decidedly from Frank's lips.
"Prove it."
"I will. I am not going to play any more. I have been a fool, and I
am ashamed of it."
"That is easy enough to say, but---- Well, we will see what we will
see."
"You doubt my ability to keep away from the game?"
"Haven't I reason to do so?"
"You surely have. But look here, Bart; you know as well as I the kind
of fellows we are running with when we play cards with that gang.
Neither you nor I care to call Gage and Snell our particular friends."
"That's right."
"And Harris is a kind of uncertain fellow--neither one thing nor
another."
"Sure."
"Sam Winslow hasn't enough stamina to resist temptation of any sort."
"Go on."
"Harvey Dare is a pretty decent chap, but he doesn't care a rap what
people think or say of him."
"Well?"
"Hans Dunnerwust has been inveigled into the game, and I am going to do
my best to make him break away."
Bart drew a deep breath.
"Go ahead, Frank," he said, "and I hope you may succeed in your
missionary work. You didn't name my failings, but I have them, or they
have me, for I can't break away from them."
"You can if you will try. Make a desperate effort, Bart. Think how
differently you are situated than I, who was born with a passion for
gambling."
Bart rose impatiently.
"Drop it, old man," he growled. "I've lost too much to knock off now.
I am going to play to-night."
"To-night? Why, it is Saturday night!"
"Yes."
"If you begin playing, you will not stop before Sunday comes in."
"Perhaps not."
"You don't mean to say that you are going to play on Sunday?"
"The better the day, the better the deed," mocked Bart.
Frank said no more, but he formed a firm resolution. He would find a
way to save his roommate and break up the card game. Gage and Snell
were welcome to all they had won off him, but he would bring their
career to an end.
How was he to do it?
Surely he could not report them, for that would place him beneath a ban
among the cadets.
He studied over the problem.
That night, when Hodge arose to slip away, Frank got up also, and began
to dress. Bartley heard him, and was surprised.
"Where are you going, Frank?" he whispered.
"With you," was the quiet reply.
"But I thought----"
Hodge stopped; he would not say what he thought. But he told himself
that he had known all along that Frank could not keep away.
They got out of the academy, and made their way to the old boathouse,
where the company was already assembled.
Gage and Snell were there, but neither of them spoke to Frank.
Bart sat into the game immediately, but, to the general surprise, Frank
declined.
"I am short, and I don't feel like playing to-night," he said. "I've
got a book I want to read, and it wasn't possible for me to have a
light in quarters, so I came along."
He declined all offers of money, and sat down to read the book. He
turned his back to the table, so the light fell on the pages from over
his shoulder, and in a short time he seemed too much absorbed in the
book to observe anything that was going on.
The game became very warm. It was without limit, and Hodge lost from
the first. Both Gage and Snell were winning steadily.
Still Merriwell seemed to read on calmly. But he was not reading a
great deal. In the palm of one hand he had a small mirror concealed.
By the aid of this mirror, he was watching the movements of Gage and
Snell.
And he was making some very interesting discoveries!
At length there came a large pot. Hodge and Gage stayed in and raised
till every one else fell out. Hodge took one card; Gage, who was
dealing, took two.
Then there was betting such as had never before been known in that old
boathouse.
Hodge's face was pale, and he refused to call, for he believed his time
to get square had come. He put in his "paper" for more than fifty
dollars, after his money was exhausted.
Finally the game came to an end, and Gage proclaimed himself the winner.
He started to take the money lying on the table. Like a leaping tiger,
Frank Merriwell came out of his chair, whirled, thrust Leslie's hands
aside, and pushed the money toward Bart.
"Not this evening, Mr. Gage!" he said. "I am onto your little game,
and it won't work any more with this crowd!"
The boys sprang to their feet.
"What do you mean?" asked Gage, hoarsely, his face very pale.
"I mean that you are a sneak and a cheat!" said Frank, deliberately.
"I mean that you are too mean and contemptible for any honest fellow in
this academy to ever have anything to do with! I mean that you have
deliberately robbed your companions by means of crooked appliances made
for dishonest gamblers! That is exactly what I mean, Mr. Gage."
Leslie gasped, and managed to say:
"Be careful! You will have to prove every word, or----"
"I will prove it! I have been watching you, and I have seen you
repeatedly make the pass that restores cut cards to their original
position. I have seen you hold back at least three of the top cards in
dealing, and give them to Snell or take them yourself. Those cards
will be found to be skillfully marked, and that pack is short. Boys,
count those cards!"
The cards were counted, and the pack proved to be four cards short.
"Here is one of the gambler's appliances of which I spoke," said Frank,
thrusting his hand under Leslie's side of the table and wrenching away
something. "It is a table hold-out, and it contains the four missing
cards. This is the kind of a fellow you are playing cards with,
gentlemen."
The faces of the boys were black with anger, Wat Snell being excepted.
Seeing his opportunity, Snell quickly slipped away, and before he could
be stopped, had bolted from the boathouse.
Gage took advantage of the excitement to make a break for liberty, and
he, too, got away.
"What a howling shame!" said Harvey Dare, in disgust. "We'd tar and
feather them both. Anyway, they'll have to get out of the academy."
The boys who had put money into the game were given what they had
invested. The rest was turned over to Hodge. It made his losing
nearly square.
"This settles me," he said, grimly. "I am done playing. No more of
this business for me."
"Stick to that, and you will be all right," said Frank Merriwell, in a
low tone.
* * * * * *
Leslie Gage knew what must follow. The story was bound to spread among
the cadets, and he would find himself scorned and shunned. He
immediately ran away, and it was reported that he had gone to sea.
Wat Snell had not the nerve to run away, but he found himself the most
unpopular fellow at the academy, shunned by the cadets generally, and
regarded with contempt.
The exposure of Gage's crookedness broke up the poker parties for that
season, at least; and Frank was happy, for he had saved himself and
rescued Hodge and Hans Dunnerwust.
But he was happiest in receiving the approbation of Inza Burrage, who
learned, through her brother, what Frank had done.