STARTING OUT.
The following morning Frank was up bright and early and ready to take
the train.
Havener came to the station to see him off, together with Ephraim Gallup
and Hans Dunnerwurst.
“Gol dinged if I ain’t sorry yeou’re goin’ to leave us!” said the Yankee
youth, dolefully.
“Yaw,” nodded the Dutch boy, sniffing; “you vos sorry I vos goin’ to
left you, Vrankie.”
“Haow long do yeou expect to be aout ahead of the show?” asked Ephraim.
“I can’t tell about that,” answered Frank. “Perhaps not very long, for I
may not suit.”
“I’ll risk that,” said Havener. “You’ll be all right. There’s something
rather odd I’ve been thinking about—something of a mystery.”
“What’s that?”
“Why should Delvin Riddle try to pump you and get our route from you?”
“Why, I suppose he wanted to know what towns we were going to play in so
he could——”
“But Collins knew the route.”
Frank started.
“That’s so!” he exclaimed. “Never thought of that.”
“King gobbled up Collins, and so, of course, Collins told him the
route.”
“It seems so.”
“Of course it was so.”
“Then why——”
“That’s it, exactly—why did Riddle take so much trouble to try to pump
it out of you? I’ve been puzzling over that. There’s some kind of a
mystery here.”
“Where’s Riddle?”
“Nobody knows. He didn’t stay at our hotel last night, and Haley was not
able to find him in town. He suddenly and mysteriously disappeared.
There is something queer about this business, Merriwell.”
“I scent a mystery!” cried Frank. “Mysteries always interest me. Wish I
had time to solve this one.”
“Well, don’t let it bother you. Here comes the train. Remember your
instructions. Of course, you know just how the company stands, but Haley
is holding fast to Hawkins, and the old man will be able to work the
‘angel’ if we get into another hard place. We must strike better
business soon, and I guess we’ll pull out all right.”
A short time later, Frank was seated on the train, waving a farewell
from the window to his two friends and the stage-manager.
Hans and Ephraim stood side by side in solemn sorrow, one tall, lank,
angular, the other short, stout, rotund. They presented a strong
contrast, and Merry could not help smiling a bit. Then came a thought
that saddened him somewhat. He could see there was a big change in
himself since the old, rollicking days at Fardale—he could feel it. He
had been forced to face the world and battle for bread, and the
circumstances and his advance in years had wrought the change. He was no
longer a thoughtless boy; he felt the blood and vigor of dawning manhood
in his veins. Boyish things were past. Still he could enjoy fun as well
as ever, but the time when he was continually planning and carrying into
execution practical jokes was gone.
Frank believed that Hans and Ephraim saw the change in him. Still he was
sure their affection for him was as strong and enduring as ever.
They, too, had changed somewhat, for they had been forced, like Frank,
to win their way in the world.
Thinking it all over, Merry did not long to go back to his boyhood days,
pleasant though they had been. He realized that he was enjoying life as
he had never before enjoyed it. The battles, the rebuffs, the triumphs,
they were something, worth living for, and they gave such a pleasure to
existence that it took away all regrets for his lost boyhood.
Then he thought of Yale—dear old Yale! Then a pang of regret shot
through his heart, for he had not completed his college course—he had
not graduated with honors, as he had believed he some day should.
But the man who had robbed him of his fortune had not prospered. For a
long time the sword of justice had been suspended over Darius Conrad’s
head, and it had seemed that it would never fall. The unscrupulous
rascal had gone on his wicked way unmolested till the tide turned
against him.
Then his downward course had been swift and the end awful. His
ill-gotten gains melted away, and the man who had been rich and the
ruling power of the Blue Mountain Railroad at last stood face to face
with ruin.
Then came another thought that added to his heartsore feeling. Ephraim
Gallup had brought him unpleasant news of Elsie Bellwood. Her father was
dead, and Elsie was alone in the world, save for some not very closely
connected relatives.
Poor Elsie! Thrown on her own resources, she must find the struggle hard
and trying. He did not even know her address, so he could not write to
her.
Had fate parted them forever?
That thought was maddening. He would not believe anything so cruel had
happened. Some time he would find his little, blue-eyed sweetheart, and
then they would be parted never again.
Frank was musing thus when a man came out of the smoker and dropped into
the seat at his side, coolly observing:
“Fine morning, Merriwell.”
Frank looked up quickly.
“Riddle!” he exclaimed.
“Sure thing,” nodded the advance man for the “Julian King Stock
Company.” “We seem to be traveling in the same direction.”
Frank was not pleased. He did not like Riddle. There was something about
the fellow that struck him unfavorably.
“Yes,” he said, shortly.
“Been having an after-breakfast smoke,” explained Riddle. “Bad habit to
smoke in the morning, but I’ve fallen into it. Old Haley was looking for
me last night, wasn’t he?”
“I believe so.”
“Well, I knew better than to let him find me. He’s ugly sometimes, and
he hates King as much as King hates him. He got King into a wild-cat
scheme once and did him out of a pretty little boodle. When they saw the
show was going to pieces, Haley planned to sell off a lot of the stuff
and get enough money to jump back to New York and leave the company.
King got ahead of him, though, and did the trick first. Since then they
have been ready to shoot each other on sight.”
This was a different version of the story from the one told Merry by
Haley, and was an illustration of the old axiom “there’s always two
sides to a story.”
Riddle rattled away with his talk. He told some stories, one or two of
which were not at all to Merriwell’s relish. He cracked a few jokes, and
he tried to show himself as an all-round good fellow.
“The real fact is,” he finally said, “that old Haley is a skin. He does
everybody he can, and he’ll do you. Bet he’ll stick you a right good bit
by the time he gets ready to drop you—that is, if he is able to hold his
old show together, which I doubt most mightily. Think he’ll be able to
keep it running another month?”
“Do you think I would tell you if I didn’t believe he’d be able to do
that?” asked Frank.
“Oh, you’re too stiff, my boy. You’ll get over that by the time you’ve
associated with theatrical managers as long as yours truly. Now, look
here, I’ve got a proposal to make to you.”
Frank was silent.
“It’s this,” Riddle went on; “you give me the route of your company, and
I’ll give you mine. If you think this isn’t a fair exchange, I might
make it an object to you. Old Haley needn’t know anything about it, and
you can nail a tenner down into your inside pocket. What do you say?”
“I say, Mr. Riddle,” said Frank, rising, his eyes flashing, “that you
are a confounded scoundrel! I don’t know what your object is in wishing
to learn the route of our company, but I do know it cannot be an honest
one, and I do not wish to have anything further to do with you. There
are lots of vacant seats in this car, so be good enough to get out of
this one, or I shall throw you out!”
That was straight talk, and Delvin Riddle did not misunderstand it. He
looked Frank over rather sneeringly, then laughed in a most cutting
manner.
“All right, my young gamecock,” he chirped, “I’ll leave you, for you are
altogether too touchy. You are a very fresh duck, and I’ll show you
before many days that you’re not half as smart as you fancy you are.”
Then he got up, still laughing sneeringly, and retired to the smoker.
Frank sat down.
“I don’t like to be taken for a scoundrel by such a fellow,” he thought.
“It galls me. But it certainly is a singular thing that Riddle is so
anxious to learn our route, and it is far more singular that he has not
learned it through Collins. As Havener said, there is a mystery about
it.”
Frank was provided with a ticket to Dundee, but he decided to get off at
Salacia, the town from which Collins had wired Haley that he had
abandoned his job and joined King’s company.
Something made Merry desirous of asking a few questions about Weston
Collins.
It was near eleven o’clock in the forenoon when the train arrived at
Salacia.
Frank got off.
So did Delvin Riddle!
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