PIKE'S LITTLE PLAN.
Donald Pike was in a nagging mood. He walked up and down the room a few
times, finally stopping in front of his chum, Buck Badger. They had been
talking about the Saturday ball-game, and both were in bad humor.
"I don't know what's the matter with you, Badger! I'm disgusted with
you!"
The Westerner shifted his feet nervously, but said nothing.
"Perhaps you consider it an honor to receive that invitation from
Merriwell? I don't! I am surprised that he sent it."
Badger shifted his feet again, and shrugged his thick shoulders. His
face was flushed and his eyes looked troubled.
"I am, too!"
"He had a motive, of course!"
Badger tossed a leg over the arm of his chair, and looked out of the
window.
"It has been his boast all along that he would have you in his flock by
and by! You have always sworn by all that's good and bad that you would
never become a friend of his!"
"I'm not a friend of his!"
Pike laughed sneeringly.
"What do you call it? If I say a word against Frank Merriwell you want
to eat me up. It's come to that! You were ready to fight him any minute,
at first; now you're ready to lick the polish off his shoes, just like
the rest of those fellows."
"Nothing of the kind!" Badger hotly declared.
"Well, you're going to pitch for his picked team Saturday!"
"Kirk asked me to."
"And Merriwell sent him?"
"Yes!"
"And they have become such friends that they're almost chums. The
fellows are beginning to say that Dunstan Kirk manages the Yale
ball-team, and Frank Merriwell manages Dunstan Kirk. They are about
right, I guess!"
"I allow that I'm no nearer being Merriwell's chum than I ever was. We
could never be chums. But I'm not going to forget what he did for me on
the _Crested Foam_. He saved my life, then, Pike!"
"And proposes to wind you round his fingers and drag you at his heels to
make you pay for it!"
"So, when he sent me that invitation, and I talked it over with Kirk, I
thought I ought to accept it."
"Don't you know that Hodge will refuse to catch?"
"Don't talk about him!" Badger hissed.
"He has already said that he will not catch for such a scoundrel as
you!"
"Did he say that?"
"He says you will lose them the game; that it's an outrage to put you
into the box, and he won't be a party to it. He says you can't pitch."
"Can't I? He says that, does he?"
"He says that if Frank Merriwell takes up with you, he will never speak
to him again. Anyhow, what good will it do you to pitch for Merriwell?
You'll be no nearer getting a show on the regular nine."
Badger shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and showed his broad
white teeth unpleasantly. Pike was again walking up and down the room.
"I'd almost be willing to become a member of Merriwell's flock just to
spite Bart Hodge. My hands just naturally go up, and I want to fight
whenever I see him. That's whatever!"
"Oh, you two will be as chummy as the Siamese twins in less than a
month."
"Never! I hate him too badly."
"That's the way you were talking of Merriwell a month ago. You will come
round to it!"
"Not on your life! Hodge is a different sort of fellow from Merriwell, I
allow."
"And you are going to accept that invitation?"
"I told you, Pike, that I have already accepted it. I'm not Merriwell's
friend, and I despise Bart Hodge; but I'm not ungrateful. Whatever other
things we learn out West, we learn to pay back favor for favor. I'd be a
dirty coyote if I refused to accept that invitation after what Merriwell
did for me. That's the way I look at it. I know that I can pitch ball.
You know it, too. I can twirl a ball just as good as Frank Merriwell, or
any other fellow in Yale, and you know that, too. I reckon I'm able to
ride my bronco alone, without Merriwell's help. I am not asking
favors--none whatever! I'm simply returning a favor already given! You
can see through that, can't you? If you can't, you're as chuckle-headed
as a prairie-dog!"
"I can see that you are becoming Frank Merriwell's friend just as fast
as you can!"
"You're riding away off the line, Pike! I shall never be Merry's friend
in the sense you think. But you know that he is the clean white article.
He is straight goods. I've found that out. I used to think different,
just as you do, but I've found out I was mistaken. He is a square man.
And when he sent that invitation I knew there was no underhand business
about it whatever. That's the reason I accepted it; that and because it
would have made me feel meaner than a Digger Indian if I had refused it.
I'm going to pitch for him Saturday forenoon, and I'll win that game for
him, too. Don't you let that fact escape your memory! I hope Bart Hodge
will refuse to catch. I'm afraid I couldn't resist the temptation to
throw the ball square at his head every time, if he was behind the bat.
I want him to stay out!"
"Well, you're a fool!" Pike snapped, striding toward the door. "I never
thought you'd do a thing like that. You are no more like the old Badger
than a calf is like a mountain-lion. You had some fire in you once, but
you have become as soft as a ninny. The whole thing simply makes me
sick."
Badger's face was red and his neck veins were swelling.
"I'm not used to any such talk whatever, Pike!" he exclaimed, as Pike
hurled these sentences back at him from the doorway. "If you say
anything like that again I'll kick you down-stairs! I've taken more off
of you to-night than I ever thought I could take from any one, and I
won't stand it any longer!"
"Cool off, old man!" Pike sneered. "You're making a chuckle-headed
prairie-dog out of yourself, I think. If you should kick me you would
kick the best friend you ever had. Good-by. See you later!"
The Westerner did not even grunt a reply, but sat still in his chair
with his hands in his pockets, his eyes glittering, his broad teeth
showing, his neck veins protuberant and his face as red as a boiled
lobster, while Pike walked away.
When Pike came back to the room Badger was gone. Pike entered with his
own key. He knew that the Westerner would likely be away a number of
hours, calling on Winnie Lee. He glanced round the room, then went to
the closet in which Badger's clothing hung.
Pike was crafty in his hate. He did not intend to lose his grip of the
Kansan. He realized that he had gone almost too far. Badger would bear a
good deal from him because of what they had been to each other, but to
this there were limits. He felt that he had nearly reached the limit.
"He shall not pitch ball Saturday, if I can help it!" he hissed, as he
looked over the things in the closet. "If I can work it, it will make
Hodge so hot against him that there will be a fight. And perhaps it will
turn Merriwell and his precious flock against him, too. It's risky, but
it is worth all the risk."
He took out a suit of Badger's clothes, and laid it in a chair. Then he
went to a desk and selected from it some "make-up" preparations which
had been there ever since the production of the sophomore play, "A
Mountain Vendetta." Then, after locking the door, he arrayed himself in
Badger's suit, and, standing before the mirror, applied the preparations
to his face, forehead, and eyebrows.
Pike had a good deal of artistic skill in such matters, and in a short
time he had darkened his face, blackened his brows and drawn certain
lines and colors, that, together with the change produced by the
clothing, made him resemble Badger in a remarkable manner. When he put
on Badger's hat the alteration seemed complete.
"Of course, that wouldn't stand close inspection," he muttered. "But
there will be no close inspection. I shall look out for that. Now for
the voice!"
He bunched up his shoulders to give them a thick look, cleared his
throat, and looking straight at himself in the glass, began to imitate
Badger's tones and characteristics of speech, speaking so low, however,
that there was no danger of being heard by any one who might chance to
pass.
"I allow that I'm a Kansan from away beyond the Kaw, and I reckon I'm a
diamond pure without the slightest flaw! Sure! A genuine prairie-dog
from the short-grass country couldn't chatter more like a Westerner than
that. That would fool Badger himself. That's whatever! Yes, I reckon. My
daddy is a rancher, and I allow that I am great; for my home is on the
boundless plains of the wonderful Sunflower State! If I should practise,
I reckon I could become a poet!"
Satisfied with his make-up and his abilities to imitate Badger's tone
and language, Donald Pike returned the unused articles to the drawer,
put away the clothing he had removed, and then sneaked down into the
campus, carrying under his coat a long, stout cord. Keeping away from
the electric lamps and other lights he slipped stealthily on until he
reached the entrance which led to the rooms occupied by Merriwell and
Hodge.
Diamond and Browning came down, talking in low tones of Merry and Bart,
and from this talk, Pike, who had withdrawn into the shadows, learned
that both Hodge and Frank were out in town somewhere. This suited Pike's
plans, and when Diamond and Bruce disappeared, he crawled into the
shadow of a column and watched the path along which Hodge and Merriwell
would come on their return.
"They'll not come back together, sure, unless all the stories I've heard
are lies; for they're not on speaking terms!" he reflected. "The only
thing I fear is that Hodge may not care to come to his rooms at all."
The thought made him uneasy, and caused the vigil which followed to
appear torturingly long.
"Ah! there he is!" he whispered, at last.
Slipping across the path, he tied an end of the cord he had brought to a
post, then retreated into the shadow and tied the other end about the
column. The youth he had seen came on at a brisk walk. Pike was sure it
was Hodge. He almost ceased to breathe as the unsuspecting young fellow
approached the cord. He put himself in position for a hasty spring.
Crash!
The youth tripped over the string, and went down headlong, falling
heavily.
"I reckon I've got you now!" Pike hissed in a low tone, imitating
Badger's voice, and at the same time leaping toward the prostrate form.
Deceived by the darkness, Donald Pike had tripped Frank Merriwell, but
he did not yet know it. With that imitation of the Westerner's speech,
he knocked Merriwell down, as the latter tried to get up.
Again he struck, as Frank attempted to rise, but Merriwell dodged the
blow, and, catching Pike by the legs, threw him. Before Pike could
realize what had happened, Merriwell was on top, with his fingers at
Pike's throat.
"You scoundrel!" Frank hissed. "I am tempted to give you what you
deserve for that!"
But Pike was not ready to surrender, though he knew now that he had
committed a woful blunder. In fact, the knowledge that he was dealing
with Frank Merriwell aroused him to a fierce resistance. He felt that it
would simply be ruinous to be held and recognized by Merriwell, and he
began to fight like a demon to get away.
He freed his hands, and struck Frank heavily in the face, at the same
time kicking with all his might. He tried to thrust his thumbs into
Frank's eyes.
"I'll kill you, if you don't let me go!" he snarled.
Frank had felt from the first that his assailant could not be Buck
Badger; now he recognized the voice of Donald Pike, for Pike, in his
fright and desperation, forgot to keep up the disguise.
Seeing that the only way to deal with Pike was to choke him into
semi-insensibility, he caught and crushed down the flailing fists and
arms and tightened his grip on Pike's throat. Pike writhed and flounced,
kicking and struggling, but all without avail. That viselike grip grew
tighter and tighter. The pain seemed unbearable. He gurgled and choked,
and his lungs seemed to be bursting. He could not breathe, and his brain
began to reel.
"Give in?" Frank asked.
"Don't k-k-k-ill me!" Pike gasped, as the grip on his throat relaxed.
"You deserve it, you scoundrel!"
Frank took his knee from Pike's breast, removed the choking hand, and
flung Pike from him.
"Now get up!" he commanded. "Get up before I am tempted to kick you
across the campus!"
Pike shuffled and evaded, as his breath came back.
"I thought you were Badger, and I was just playing a little joke on
you!" he whined.
"Get up!" Frank exclaimed.
Pike struggled up, and Merriwell jerked him toward the nearest light. He
saw the "make-up," and recognized the clothes as some he had seen on the
Kansan.
"What were you up to?" he demanded, with threatening emphasis. He saw
forms moving in the campus, and he did not want to tarry with Pike.
"Just a little sport!" Pike whined. He was completely crushed.
"You lie, Donald Pike! You had some object. I can almost guess what it
was. You imitated Badger's voice and way of speaking, when you jumped on
me. You are wearing Badger's clothing. That make-up is intended to lead
any one who sees you into thinking you were Buck Badger. You wanted to
make me believe that Badger had assaulted me."
"Just a joke!" Pike pleaded. "Merriwell, I didn't mean anything, only to
have a bit of sport. That is honest. I didn't know it was you."
"Ah! That last sounds as if you meant it. I hardly think you did know
who you were tackling. I think I shall take you over to Badger's room,
and let him see you just as you are. Come along!"
Pike was not anxious to be seen by the men who were crossing the campus,
so he moved along, with Frank at his side.
Frank was thinking rapidly, in an effort to understand Pike's motives.
"I want to know why you leaped on me in that cowardly way, and struck me
when I was down. You wouldn't have served Badger that way! And if you
wanted to have a little fun with Badger, you would not have disguised
yourself and imitated his way of speaking. That story don't go with me,
Pike!"
Pike was watching for a chance to escape, intending to make a dash for
liberty at the first opportunity.
"You are disguised as Badger. Badger would not assault me that way, for
Badger is a man! But you wanted to make some one think he had been
assaulted by Badger. That one must be Bart Hodge!"
Pike started to run, but Frank caught him by the collar, and jerked him
back.
"Don't be in a hurry, Pike! I've seen you through and through for some
time, and understand your little game of this evening."
Donald Pike walked on for a time peaceably enough, but he was only
watching for an opportunity to break away. Again he fancied the
opportunity had come. But no sooner did he start than Frank tripped him,
and he fell sprawling. Before he could get up, Frank's hand was on his
collar.
He made another fierce struggle as soon as he was on his feet, only to
discover that he was as helpless as a child in the hands of Frank
Merriwell. He had never dreamed that Merriwell was possessed of such
strength and skill.
The shadows were heavier at this point, and Merriwell kept a grip on
Pike's collar.
"See here, Pike!" he exclaimed. "If you try anything of that kind again
I shall simply knock you down. You are going with me, if I have to tie
and drag you. So you might as well come along quietly and save trouble."
"I shall have you arrested for this!" Pike blustered, now that whining
and begging and fighting had failed.
"Do! I think your friends would enjoy hearing the story of your
remarkable masquerade told in court. Go ahead with the proceedings,
Donald. Just now you are going with me, regardless of the after
consequences."
Pike caught at a post, but Merriwell jerked him away from it, and then
hurried him rapidly on in the direction of Badger's room. Pike was sure
Badger was not in, and began to think that he might save himself bruises
and rough treatment by apparent acquiescence.
"I will go with you," he finally panted, "but under protest. And I shall
make you sorry for this outrage. You have no right to treat me thus."
Merriwell did not answer, but kept a hand on Pike's collar while he
conducted him up the stairs. To Pike's consternation, Buck Badger was in
the room and the door was open.
Before Pike could quite make up his mind to try again to escape,
Merriwell had bundled him through the doorway.
Badger scrambled up.
"There is your friend!" said Merriwell, pointing a finger accusingly at
Pike, who was too confused and humiliated to speak. "He disguised
himself that way, and attacked me awhile ago near my room, thinking I
was Bart Hodge. He has found out his mistake. He wanted to make Hodge
think that you had done the dirty work, so that you and Hodge would lock
horns the first time you met, and there would be trouble again all
around the camp. He is a contemptible and cowardly puppy, and I feel
that I have soiled my hands by touching him. But I wanted you to see him
in that rig, and know him as he is."
A fierce denial was on the lips of Donald Pike, but he had not the
courage to utter it. He saw that something more than denials would be
necessary to explain matters. The Westerner was as speechless as Pike,
and Merriwell turned away.
"I reckon we'll have a little explanation of this, Pike!" were the words
Merry heard as he reached the head of the stairs. They were spoken in an
awesome tone of voice, and came from Badger's lips.
Then the door closed with a bang, and he knew that the Kansan had barred
the way of Pike's escape from the room. The next morning Frank received
this note:
"MR. FRANK MERRIWELL: Pike and I had a settlement last night. He
tried to lie out of the thing, but I made him confess to the whole
truth. Then I kicked him down-stairs. We are not rooming together
any more whatever. BUCK BADGER."