CHAPTER VIII.

AFTER FRANK'S MONEY.

"Haow are ye, Frank?" cried Ephraim Gallup, a friend of Frank's, from

Vermont, as Merry entered the office of the hotel.

The long, lank Vermonter came forward, followed by a short, fat lad,

who exclaimed:

"Yaw, how you peen, ain'd id, Vrankie?"

The short lad was Hans Dunnerwurst, another friend.

"Ephraim! Hans!" gasped Frank.

"Yes, we're here, bag an' baggage, by gum!" declared the down-Easter.

"Dot peen a fact," nodded Hans, with owl-like gravity. "Der pag und

paggages vos here mit us."

"Why, what does it mean?" Frank managed to ask.

"The jig's up, b'gosh!"

"Dot vos id," agreed the Dutch boy.

"I do not understand," confessed Frank. "You should be playing in

Tornton to-night."

"Waal, we ain't there."

"Tornton don'd peen us in to-nighd," averred Hans.

"But why not? Has the company----"

"Busted--that's it."

"Gone der spoudt ub," further explained Hans.

"Is it possible?"

"Yas."

"Yaw."

"And you----"

"We managed to scrape together enough money to git here, an' we ketched

a train that took us here all right. Jest got to this air howtel an'

faound yeou was over to the theater. We was goin' right over there."

"But now you haf come ofer us to id safed us der droubles," said the

Dutch boy.

Frank sat down on a chair and stared at them some seconds.

"Well," he murmured, "I thought the company would break up, but this is

sooner than I expected. What's the matter?"

"Haley, the manager, skipped out."

"Haley did?"

"Yas; left ther hull craowd in ther lurch. They'd lynch him if they

could git their paws onter him."

"How did he happen to skip?"

"Waal, we done a purty good business last night at Ivervale, an' the

gang was shoutin' fer some dust, yeou bet. The ghost ain't walked for

three weeks, an' we wanted some money to git some shirts an' collars

an' things done up clean. Haley promised to cough when we got to

Tornton. We all went on board the train, s'posin' he was along with

the tickets. When the train started, he dropped off. That's abaout all

there is to it, except me an' Hans had some stuff soaked, an' we didn't

git chucked off at a little side deepoe, same's the rest of the gang

did."

"Then the show is completely stranded?"

"Jest that."

"What's the name of the place?"

"Ballardvale, I believe."

"Hotel there?"

"Dunno. We didn't stop to see."

"Well, that was a miserable trick for Haley to play, but I guess most

of the managers of traveling companies play it sometimes. Why did you

chaps come here?"

"We knowed you'd be here."

"What of that?"

"Waal, we reckoned mebbe we'd be able to git up some kind of a

three-cornered show an' keep from starvin'. That was aour scheme. I

dunno haow it'll hit ye, Frank."

"I have just given a show at the opera house here."

"Yeou hev?"

"Yes."

"Whut kaind of a show?"

Then Frank explained just what had happened and what he had done, while

his two friends listened in open-mouthed astonishment and admiration.

"Jest like ye, by gum!" shouted Ephraim. "Can't throw yeou down! Yeou

alwus light on yeour feet!"

"Yaw," nodded Hans, "yer veet alvays lighd on you, Vrankie."

"Haow much money did ye make?" whispered Ephraim, eagerly.

Frank pulled out a large roll, on the outside of which was a

fifty-dollar bill. Both lads stared at it, and then they leaned heavily

against each other.

"Efy," whispered Hans, "I pelief I vos goin' to had a pad case uf

heardt vailures!"

"Waal, I'm ruther dizzy myself!" gurgled the Vermonter. "Never saw so

much money as that in all my life. Why don't yeou retire an' live on

the intrust of it, Frank?"

"Yaw, why you don'd led der interest uf id life on you, Vrankie?" asked

Hans.

"Here is just about enough to get us started on the road in good

shape," said Merriwell. "We shall need every dollar of it."

"We!" squawked Ephraim.

"Us!" gasped Hans.

Merriwell nodded.

"We will go into partnership," he said. "It will take three of us to

run the thing right."

The Yankee youth and the Dutch lad fell into each other's arms.

"Saved!" cried Ephraim.

"Dot's vot's der madder!" rejoiced Hans. "Oh, dot Vrank Merriwell vas a

beach, you pet!"

They sat down and talked it over for a long time. Frank believed

Ephraim could learn to assist him about his tricks, and he fancied Hans

would be good for something. They were his old Fardale schoolmates, and

he had no thought of leaving them stranded away out there so far from

their homes.

By the time they had talked over their plans it was after midnight.

Then Frank found himself unable to deposit his money in the safe, as

the clerk had gone to bed and taken the key, and no one would assume

the responsibility of awakening him.

Ephraim and Hans were given a room together.

As they went upstairs, the Vermonter said to Frank:

"Look aout for that air money, Frank. If yeou lose that, we're in the

soup fer sure."

"Oh, I'll look out for it," assured Merry. "No one will think of

molesting me to-night."

He little knew that these words were overheard by his worst enemy.

From his own unlighted room Sport Harris peered forth, having the door

slightly ajar.

"So he's taking the money to his room?" thought the young scoundrel.

"Well, he must have a pretty good pile of it, for that was a great

house. I'm rather hard up, and I wouldn't mind lifting a fat roll off

that fellow."

In his stocking feet he slipped out into the hall and followed Frank,

locating Merry's room.

Frank went in, closed the door and locked it.

He was pretty tired, and he lost little time in undressing. He did not

give Sport Harris a single thought. In a short time he was in bed and

the light was extinguished.

Tired though he was, it was some time before Frank could get to sleep,

for his brain was teeming with exciting thoughts.

At last, however, he dropped off.

Frank awoke with a consciousness of danger. It seemed that a slight

rustling had aroused him. In a twinkling he was on the alert, although

he kept perfectly still.

There was a sliding sound near the door. Turning his eyes, he saw a

dark figure slowly slipping in through the transom, which was wide open.

"Hello!" thought Frank. "Somebody is after my boodle! Well, I'll give

that chap a surprise."

He reached up near the head of his bed and pushed the button there,

distinctly hearing the bell ring down in the office. Again and again he

pushed it, determined to arouse somebody if possible.

The intruder dropped down from the transom, and Frank shot out of bed.

A second later Merriwell and the burglar were locked in each other's

grasp.

Frank Merriwell's Own Company; Or, Barnstorming in the Middle West · 第 8 / 29 章