STARTLING NEWS.
The night watchman at the cyanide works had very important duties to
perform. Jode Lenning, in spite of his youth, had been filling the
position to the satisfaction of everybody at the mine. Burke’s
announcement, therefore, came as a tremendous surprise.
“Went away?” repeated Mr. Bradlaugh. “Didn’t he tell you he was going?”
“Oh, certainly,” replied the superintendent, “he told me he was going,
and that he would be back in plenty of time to go on duty at the tanks.
Borrowed my saddle horse, too--the sorrel with the white stocking foot.
Up to an hour ago, though, he hadn’t got back. Had to fill in his place
last night with a man from the night shift in the mill.”
Colonel Hawtrey was taking this all in with significant glances,
directed now at Frank and now at Mr. Bradlaugh. His face wore a grim
“I-told-you-so” expression.
“What time did he leave the mine?” asked Mr. Bradlaugh.
“About nine in the morning.”
“Did he say anything about what he intended to do?”
“No. But he did remark, I remember, that he had quite a long ride to
make; and, last evening when he failed to return, the man in charge of
our powder house told me that Lenning had given him a dollar for some
dynamite, a length of fuse, and a cap.”
This merely intensified the mystery.
“What the deuce do you suppose he wanted of that dynamite?” muttered Mr.
Bradlaugh.
“Lenning’s schemes go pretty deep sometimes,” frowned the colonel.
“He’ll not come back, Burke. I don’t believe he intended to come back,
when he left the mine. I’ll ride over in a day or two and give you a
check for your horse and riding gear. I don’t consider that I’m in any
way responsible for your missing property, understand, but Lenning is a
relative of mine, and I don’t want any of my friends to suffer financial
loss through him.”
“I believe he’ll come back,” said Burke. “All my opinions about that boy
have changed since he’s been working at the mine. I think he’s trying to
be square, and to clear his record.”
“I’d give fifty thousand dollars this minute,” declared the colonel, “if
I could know that what you say is a fact. But,” he added, “actions speak
louder than words. Before many hours have passed we’ll hear what Lenning
has been up to. Maybe he just got tired of a life of honest endeavor and
made a sudden break to get away from it. I was afraid that, sooner or
later, the life out there would get too monotonous for him.”
“We’re going to give him the benefit of the doubt,” said Mr. Bradlaugh.
“He was going to take a long ride, and may have met with an accident, or
have been delayed in some other way. Just leave the mill hand on the
work for a day or two, Burke, and we’ll wait for Lenning to show up, or
to send us word.”
“Thought I’d better report the thing to you, Mr. Bradlaugh,” Burke
remarked. “If any other hand had turned up missing, I’d not have
bothered you with the matter, but I realize that Lenning is a sort of
protégé of Merriwell’s, and I wanted to let him know what had happened.”
“I think the affair will come out all right, Merriwell,” said Mr.
Bradlaugh to Frank, “and that there’s no need to do any worrying.”
“Whether it comes out all right or whether it doesn’t, Brad,” spoke up
the colonel, “we’ve got a little business together on the links. Go
ahead and get started.”
Mr. Bradlaugh turned to make his drive.
“Lenning had a reason for not getting back as he said he’d do,” Frank
asserted confidently. “When he shows up at the mine, he’ll explain the
delay in a manner that will be satisfactory to everybody. I’m just as
sure of that as I am that I’m alive this minute.”
The youngster’s loyalty to Lenning won a nod of approval from Mr.
Bradlaugh. While the latter was swinging at the ball, Frank, Clancy, and
Burke turned and started for the trail in front of the clubhouse. The
superintendent rode slowly at the side of the two boys.
“What in the world do you suppose Lenning wanted that dynamite for?”
Burke asked.
“Search me!” Frank answered, vastly puzzled.
“While you’re asking conundrums,” chimed in Clancy, “what did he want to
take a ride for--and a long one, at that?”
“Yesterday was Sunday.” Burke reminded Clancy, “and the mill is shut
down. Most of the men pull out for a ride or a walk.”
“But Lenning has to be on duty every night, hasn’t he? If he was going
to take a ride that lasted all day, when would he get his share of
sleep?”
“Probably he could do without that for one day. You see, he----”
Burke bit off his words abruptly. His eyes were fixed on the trail that
led from the main road to Gold Hill to the clubhouse.
“Who’s that over there?” he asked, with a hint of a laugh in his voice.
“The man, whoever he is, seems to be having a little trouble.”
Against the clear, bright sky a man on a mule stood out in clean-cut
prominence. The man was tall and angular, while the mule was long and
equally angular. The mule was at a standstill, his long ears laid back,
and the rider was pounding his bony sides desperately in an attempt to
get him to move.
“Holy smoke!” chuckled Clancy; “why, that’s Professor Phineas
Borrodaile, our tutor, and he’s trying to make Pophagan’s mule, Uncle
Sam, carry him on to the clubhouse.”
“Uncle Sam appears to be an obstinate brute,” laughed Burke.
“He’s worse than that,” grinned Merriwell. “When Uncle Sam starts, he’s
liable to begin all at once and go straight up in the air before he
moves ahead. We know a little about that mule, and the professor ought
to be pretty well acquainted with him by this time. He---- Ah, look at
that, will you?”
Uncle Sam had suddenly resented the sting of the quirt. As though
propelled by springs he had all at once bounded upward.
Daylight showed between the professor and the saddle, but he kept
himself from going overboard by grabbing at the saddle horn with both
hands. This time, at least, the upward jump was not followed by a
movement forward; on the contrary, Uncle Sam continued to rise in the
air, but not altogether, as at first. The brute was full of tricks and
vagaries, and he began to rise now forward and now at the rear, canting
himself from one position into the other with a lightninglike, seesaw
motion that must have been intensely disagreeable to Professor
Borrodaile. It was rather edifying to the super and the boys, however.
The professor’s hat was jarred off, and the skirts of his long, black
coat billowed about him with each upward spring of the mule. The rider,
flung alternately toward the front of the quadruped and then toward the
back, was put to it to remain in the saddle. Language could be heard,
flowing copiously across the bleak sands from the professor--words of
many syllables, some Latin and a little Greek, but all well calculated
to express the professor’s annoyance.
Burke bowed his head and shook with suppressed mirth. Clancy snickered.
Merry, knowing the professor was safe from injury, took his own toll of
enjoyment. All three of them laid a course calculated to bring them to
the part of the trail at that moment occupied by the professor and Uncle
Sam.
Before they reached the scene of the professor’s trouble, the learned
gentleman had slipped wrathfully from the saddle to the ground and had
planted himself in front of his refractory steed. Clinging to the bridle
reins with one hand, the “prof” shook a finger in the mule’s face and
commenced telling the brute what he thought of him.
“You belong to the stone age, you obnoxious quadruped,” he cried, “when
the genus homo ruled the rest of creation with clubs and granite
hammers! Your unmannerly attempts to relieve yourself of my weight,
should bring upon you punishment of a most severe nature. If I were
possessed of any instrument at all adequate, I should use it savagely in
an attempt to subjugate you. As it is. I can merely pit my strength
against your own, and pull. Will you come, you vicious, long-eared peace
disturber? Will you?”
Hanging to the reins with both hands, the professor lay back on the
bridle with all his strength. For a moment, Uncle Sam resisted; then,
urged by some mulish, mischievous instinct, the brute allowed himself to
relax abruptly and to lurch forward. As a result, the professor went
backward, almost heels over head.
The reins were suddenly released. Freedom, perhaps, was what Uncle Sam
had desired and had been working for. The instant he found himself free,
he whirled around on his hind feet and would have cleared out in the
direction of Ophir had Frank not deftly seized the flying reins.
The professor got up dazedly. Rubbing the small of his back, he passed
his eyes over those who had just arrived upon the scene of his trouble
with the mule. Then, recognizing those who had suddenly grouped around
him, his face brightened.
“Ah, Merriwell!” he murmured; “and Clancy!”
“And Mr. Burke, from the mine,” added Clancy, smothering his enjoyment
as he picked up the professor’s hat. “I guess you know Mr. Burke?”
“I believe we have met,” was the reply. “I was in a hurry to get from
Ophir to the clubhouse, and so I borrowed Pophagan’s mule. That was a
mistake,” he added ruefully, taking his hat from Clancy and carefully
settling it on his head, “a very great mistake. If any one is in a hurry
to transport himself from one place to another, about the worst thing he
can do is to take Uncle Sam. A most perverse brute, young gentlemen! I
assure you that I have spent nearly an hour on the road from Ophir to
the clubhouse.”
“What was your hurry, professor?” inquired Merry, hiding his smile by
turning toward Uncle Sam.
“News of most tremendous importance reached Ophir. I wanted to convey
it to Mr. Bradlaugh. I was informed that he is playing golf on the club
links, so I took Uncle Sam and started for the links.”
“Important news?” asked Clancy, brushing the professor’s clothes with
his hands. “Anything exciting, professor?”
“It has excited me,” was the reply, “because I am indirectly concerned
in what has happened. Did I tell you that payment for the mine in the
Picketposts was due to arrive this morning, by mail from the East?”
“I don’t think you told us, professor,” returned Frank, “but Mr.
Bradlaugh gave us the information a short time ago. The stage must be in
by this time. Did you get your money?”
“Not at all, I’m sorry to say. You see, the stage was robbed while
coming through the cañon, robbed, and----”
“Robbed!” came the startled exclamation from Merriwell, Clancy, and
Burke.
“Yes, robbed,” repeated the professor. “There wasn’t much aboard but the
mail pouches. They were taken, and in one of them was my certified
check, and also the check for Mrs. Boorland. The--the event is most
deplorable. I can ill afford to lose twenty-five thousand dollars. You
see, young gentlemen, I had been counting upon that money to afford me
rest and comfort in my declining years. Now it is gone! I--I thought I
had better tell Mr. Bradlaugh.”