A GOOD WORD FOR LENNING.
It was Monday forenoon, and the second day after Merriwell’s pick-up
nine had clashed on the diamond with the team from Gold Hill.
As a result of Jode Lenning’s clever work during that game, he won over
all the ball players, and made many friends among the spectators; but
the one man Merry and Darrel had wished to reconcile with Lenning became
angry at what he termed Lenning’s deception, and seemed more bitterly
set against the young fellow than ever. That one man was Colonel
Hawtrey.
Lenning, happy in the thought that many of the friends he had lost had
been regained, returned with a light heart to his work at the Ophir
Mine. At the Ophir House, directly after the baseball game, Mr.
Bradlaugh, president of the Ophir Athletic Club and general manager for
the syndicate that operated the gold mine, had labored hard with Colonel
Hawtrey to soften him in his attitude toward Lenning. He had not been
very successful, but he had given Frank a tip that, Monday forenoon, he
and the colonel were to play a game of golf on the Ophir club links, and
he suggested that Frank appear personally and speak a good word for
Lenning.
What the ball game had failed to accomplish, Frank might succeed in
bringing about by explaining that, whatever duplicity Lenning had used
in the game, had been at the suggestion and by the advice of Merriwell
himself and of Darrel.
It was a delicate mission, this that was taking Frank to the golf links
that forenoon, and he had every reason to consider it, as he had
observed to Clancy, “one of the hardest jobs he had ever tackled.”
The club links lay to the south of the clubhouse, and Merry and Clancy
had hardly reached the clubhouse door before they glimpsed two
white-clad figures and two diminutive lads with bags out on the course.
One of the white-clad figures was on its knees, building a tee.
“There they are, Clan,” remarked Merriwell soberly.
“Sure thing, Chip,” laughed Clancy, a little uneasily. “Let’s mosey over
and have our little interview.”
Perhaps it was not an opportune moment in which to interrupt two golf
enthusiasts, but Merry reflected that he and Clancy were there by
invitation of Mr. Bradlaugh, and it seemed the part of wisdom to get
their interview with the colonel over as soon as possible.
It was the colonel’s first drive, and he was carefully weighing his
driver in his hands as the boys came up.
“Hello, Merriwell,” he called out genially; “and here’s Clancy, too. Did
you come out to see me get the better of Bradlaugh? This,” he laughed,
“is going to be one time when Gold Hill puts Ophir down and out.”
Mr. Bradlaugh nodded to the boys, and gave Merry a suggestive wink. That
wink said, as plain as words, that Merriwell had better chip in with his
word for Lenning while the colonel was feeling in such an amiable mood.
“I don’t want to butt in here, colonel,” said Frank, “but Clancy and I
didn’t come to see your match with Mr. Bradlaugh, but to have a bit of a
talk with you.”
A look of surprise crossed the colonel’s face, and then his brows
lowered with just a shade of suspicion. He tucked his driver under his
arm, gave a regretful look at the waiting ball, and then pushed his
hands resignedly into his trousers pockets.
“Go ahead, Merriwell,” said he. “I wouldn’t allow many young fellows to
stand between me and the ball I’m going to put over that bunker, I can
tell you. I realize, though, that I’m vastly indebted to you in a good
many ways. What’s on your mind?”
“There’s just one thing, colonel,” returned Merriwell earnestly, “which
I’d like to see accomplished before Clancy, Ballard, and I pull up
stakes and quit southern Arizona.”
“Only one thing, eh?” said the colonel, with a faint smile. “Well, what
is it?”
Frank was brought right up to the critical point, first crack out of the
box. He had steeled himself for the ordeal, however, and answered
calmly:
“It’s about Jode Lenning, colonel. I’d--I’d like to see you take down
the bars a little, and be friends with him.”
The faint smile had passed from Hawtrey’s face. The brows lowered again.
“Be friends with that young ne’er-do-well?” he observed. “That’s the
thing you’d like to see accomplished before you leave Arizona?”
“Yes, sir,” Frank answered hopefully.
“When do you expect to leave?”
Frank’s hopes continued to grow. Why all this talk if the colonel was
not inclined to be in a receptive mood regarding his cast-off nephew?
“Why, we’re going to leave just as soon as Professor Borrodaile receives
his check from Mr. Bradlaugh’s syndicate for the mine in the Picketpost
Mountains. Just when that will be I don’t know.”
“I can tell you, my boy,” struck in Mr. Bradlaugh. “I had a telegram
from New York yesterday, saying the check would be here in to-day’s
mail. The stage will bring it this forenoon.”
“That means, then,” said Merriwell, “that we’ll probably get away
to-morrow.”
“Too soon.” scowled the colonel. “You’re not giving me time enough.”
“About how much time do you want, Hawtrey,” queried Mr. Bradlaugh, “in
order to show a merciful and forgiving spirit toward your own flesh and
blood?”
Colonel Hawtrey faced Mr. Bradlaugh slowly and looked him full in the
eyes.
“About fifty years,” he answered harshly, “and then some.” His tone
changed a little as he turned back to Merriwell. “I’m sorry, my lad,” he
went on. “I suppose you’ll think I’m a hard-hearted old wretch, but this
matter that seems so simple to you is really quite complicated. As I’ve
said before, Jode has made his own bed, and now he must lie in it.”
“I’d like to explain,” Frank continued gloomily, “that Jode got into the
ball game because Darrel and I begged him to. If there was any
deception, Darrel and I are responsible for it.”
“I suppose that Jode is sending you to me with all this talk,” commented
the colonel. “It would be like him.”
“He has nothing to do with it, colonel,” protested Frank. “In fact, he
says he doesn’t want to curry any favor with you. He says you did
exactly right to set him adrift, and that, from now on, he intends to
make his own way in the world and stand on his own feet. He doesn’t want
any help from you.”
“That’s a very laudable purpose--if Jode really means what he says.
But--you never can tell about that. I’ve had enough of the young cub.”
“He means what he says now, colonel,” averred Frank earnestly, hating to
give up championing Lenning’s cause.
“It’s my opinion that you’re wrong in thinking that. It’s also my
opinion that you’re showing very poor judgment, as well as a very
generous and forgiving nature, by having anything whatever to do with
Jode. You’ll be sorry, I fear, before you’re done with that scapegrace.”
“Merriwell’s judgment,” suggested Mr. Bradlaugh, “has proved to be
pretty good since he has been with us.”
“I’ll agree with you there, Brad,” nodded the colonel; “but,” and he
laughed, “there’s always got to be a first time when a fellow’s judgment
goes wrong.”
“You ought to make Merriwell feel good over this Lenning affair before
he leaves Ophir, colonel,” observed Mr. Bradlaugh casually. “It wouldn’t
cost you much but a little pinch in your pride.”
“It’s a matter of principle, not pride, with me,” growled Hawtrey. “I’d
do a good deal for you, my boy,” he added, turning to Frank, “but you
could hardly expect me to break a principle just to make you ‘feel
good,’ as Bradlaugh puts it.”
“Lenning is trying to do right,” Mr. Bradlaugh persisted. “He’s as
steady as a clock, out at the mine.”
“Glad to hear it. You can’t depend on him, though, Bradlaugh. He’s
liable to go wrong again at any time. Lenning’s my nephew, and I hate to
say it, but there’s nothing to be gained by shying at the truth.”
Colonel Hawtrey, as though he considered these words final, put himself
in position and let drive at the ball. The white sphere went arching
magnificently across the bunker.
“Beautiful!” murmured Mr. Bradlaugh. “You’re in great form to-day,
Hawtrey.”
The colonel laughed good-humoredly. Turning, he slapped Merriwell
affectionately on the shoulder.
“Don’t fret about Lenning,” said he, “for you’ll find that----”
The colonel was interrupted by a man on a horse, who galloped up and
came to a quick stop at that moment. It was Burke, the superintendent at
the mine.
“Hello, Burke!” exclaimed Bradlaugh, who was just getting ready to make
his drive. “What’s on your mind this beautiful morning?”
“We’ve got to have a new night watchman at the cyanide plant,” Burke
answered.
Everybody’s attention was captured on the instant.
“Where’s Lenning?” demanded the general manager.
“He went away yesterday and hasn’t come back,” said the superintendent.