BADGER'S CHALLENGE.
Merriwell and others sprang toward him to offer their aid. Frank could
hardly believe what he had seen and heard. He feared Badger was
seriously or fatally injured, but was relieved before he reached the
Kansan to see the latter rise unsteadily to his feet.
Badger looked dazedly about, then down at his numbed left hand and arm.
They felt dead, and he could hardly lift them. But he saw they were not
mangled.
"I hope you are not hurt!" Frank exclaimed.
The blood rushed in a great wave into the Westerner's dark face, and he
gave Frank a strange look.
"Your gun has gone to pieces!" he said gruffly.
"But I hope you are not hurt. There are other guns. I don't understand
how it happened."
There was a suspicious light in Badger's eyes.
"I'll not be able to beat you," he said. "I don't know that I can shoot
again, and it's a wonder, I reckon, that my arm wasn't torn off."
He turned toward the exploded gun. The stock was uninjured and the lock
mechanism, but the muzzle end of the right barrel was split open and a
section blown out of it.
"You didn't get mud or anything of that kind in the muzzle?" Merriwell
questioned, anxiously examining the ruined weapon. "That will sometimes
make a gun explode."
"None whatever!" Badger grumbled, nursing his numbed hand and arm, while
a crowd gathered round him and Merriwell, asking excited and eager
questions. "Do you think I'm fool enough to do a thing like that?"
Frank plucked at Rattleton's arm.
"Take charge of that box of shells," he said, in an undertone. "Don't
let any one touch them. The box from which I took the shells for Badger!
I'm afraid the shells in it have been tampered with."
"Agnew!" Rattleton gasped. "He's somewhere on the grounds, you know, and
he was right up here awhile ago!"
"I don't know. It may be. We can tell better later. Just now, take
charge of that box. No more shells must be used out of it, nor out of
any others of mine."
"All right!" Rattleton promised, and moved quickly away.
"How is your hand and arm?" Merriwell asked, again addressing Badger.
"Well, I allow it's good enough to do some more shooting!" Badger
snarled, giving Hodge a suspicious glance. "You didn't beat me! I missed
that bird; but the gun blew up was the reason. I'll shoot you those two,
yet; but I'd rather try you ten birds straight--ten double rises, just
the kind we were shooting at. I reckon we'd better settle this thing
square!"
There was something very unpleasant in his tone and manner. Hodge saw
the glance, heard the words, and could hardly resist the temptation to
walk up and knock him down.
"The scoundrel!" he hissed to Browning. "What is he driving at? Does he
mean that Merry hasn't given him a fair deal, or that he had the gun
explode in some way to keep from being tied by him, or beaten? Perhaps
he is hinting crooked work against me! If he does, I'll punch his head,
sure. Frank is a fool to stand such stuff."
Merriwell showed a slight trace of annoyance. He took Badger by the arm
and they walked aside together. A dozen men were examining the gun, and
a score more were craning their necks to get a look at it, while all
sorts of excited conjectures and comments filled the air.
"See here, Badger," said Merriwell, somewhat sternly. "You think Hodge
may be responsible for that accident. He isn't--no more than I am! You
either had mud in the gun----"
"Or something was the matter with the shells!"
"Exactly. That is what I was going to say, if you had let me finish the
sentence. No more shells will be used out of that box. They may have
been tampered with, but not by Hodge. I know Hodge! He wouldn't do such
a thing."
"I reckon that he is none too good for that, if he had a chance!"
"Hodge is my friend."
"I don't care if he is your friend a dozen times over. That might have
killed me, or crippled me for life!"
"If those shells were tampered with, it was done for my benefit, Badger,
and not for yours. Hodge wouldn't put in shells that would endanger me.
I gave you those shells out of my own box."
"And Hodge was talking to you, and knew what you meant to do. He could
have juggled a fixed-up shell on you."
"We won't talk about it!" said Merriwell, turning away.
"I've a right to think what I please," Badger grumbled, following him.
"He thinks you can beat me shooting. He was afraid I would. I can beat
you, and I'd like to do it, to spite Bart Hodge."
"I don't think you are in any condition to do more shooting."
"Oh, I'm all right!" Badger rather snappishly declared, his heart hot
against Hodge. "Don't let anything of that kind worry you, Merriwell. I
want to shoot at ten double rises against you--ten double rises at
unknown angles. You've declared that you haven't tried to shoot. I dare
you to give me this trial. The numbness is going out of my arm, and it
will soon be all right. And I warn you not to throw away any shots!"
They were near the excited crowd.
"All right, Buckrum!" Merriwell answered. "I'll try you, if you're so
anxious!"
"We'll buy shells here. And that gun----"
"Perhaps you think there was something the matter with the gun?"
"Oh, I'll buy you another gun!" growled Badger.
Frank flushed.
"The impudence of the fellow!" grunted Browning, who overheard the
remark. Hodge, who was standing near Browning, heard it, too.
"I wish you'd hit him, Merry!" he panted.
"No doubt you'd like to do that," said Badger. "But I'd advise you not
to try."
"Mr. Badger and I are going to shoot at ten double birds," said Frank,
pretending not to notice these things. "I will use your gun, Bart."
"And Badger may use mine," said a sophomore, who was one of Badger's
friends, and had been one of Merriwell's enemies. "But for goodness
sake, don't use any more dynamite shells!"
Merriwell saw that Morton Agnew had come up and was looking earnestly at
Badger and at the ruined gun.
"I wonder that Badger doesn't remember that you slipped a 'fixed'
cartridge into a gun for him once," was Frank's thought. "You are at the
bottom of this, and your villainy has gone far enough. When I come to
strike you I shall strike hard!"
The shattered gun still furnished attraction for many, and Agnew pushed
forward to get a close look at it, and to ask questions. Rattleton came
up to Merriwell with the box of loaded shells.
"They are not all just alike, Merry!" he declared. "I have been looking
them over. See!"
He took up three of the shells and exhibited them to Frank. A casual
glance would show no difference between them and the other shells in the
box. But a close inspection showed that the brass did not go up quite so
high on the paper.
"I am sure that all the shells in the box were just alike," said Merry.
"Those were slipped in there. Keep them safe."
"But what if they blow me up?" Rattleton gasped. "I'm afraid of the
things. Some of the fellows are saying there was dynamite in the shell
that tore up the gun!"
"There is no danger, I think. Take care of them, and see that the other
boxes are not tampered with. Watch Morton Agnew."
"Let your bife I'll watch him! And he has been watching me! I caught him
at it awhile ago!"
"I think Agnew fixed up some shells to kill or maim me," said Frank. "No
doubt he would give a great deal to get the unused ones away. Look out
for him."
Then Merriwell went back to the crowd, where Badger was exhibiting his
benumbed arm and hand, and explaining how it felt to have a gun burst in
one's fingers.
"Are you ready?" he asked. "I am."
"Yes," Frank answered.
It was strange how the fellows on the shooting-grounds ranged themselves
into two companies--the supporters of Merriwell in one knot and the
supporters of the Kansan in the other. It was as if an invisible hand
had gone through the crowd and separated Merriwell's friends from his
foes. About Badger gathered Walter Gordan, Bertrand Defarge, Morton
Agnew, Gil Cowles, Mat Mullen, Lib Benson, Newt Billings, Chan Webb, and
more of the same sort, a number of them now Merriwell's pretended
friends, but all at heart his enemies. While about Merriwell swarmed his
friends tried and true, with Hodge, Browning, Diamond, Rattleton, Gamp,
Bink, and Dismal close to his person.
"Don't monkey with him," urged Bart, as Merriwell sent Danny and Bink
away for some shells and began to wipe out Bart's gun in readiness for
the shooting-contest. "Don't throw away any shots. Show those cads what
you can do. A lot of them are beginning to think that Badger is really a
better man than you are. If he defeats you----"
"He'll never defeat Merriwell!" asserted Rattleton. "Come off the dump!"
"Of course he can't!" added Diamond.
"There are no dead-sure things," droned Dismal. "I've been enticed into
squandering good dollars on several dead-sure things. I've got more
sense and less dollars."
"Wait and see!" sputtered Rattleton.
"Who is to shoot first?" Badger asked, walking toward Merriwell's crowd.
Badger had noticed the character of the fellows who had gathered round
him, and he was nettled. On the outskirts he even saw the face of Donald
Pike--once his friend, now hated by him as a foe.
"Suit yourself," Merriwell answered.
"We'll flip a coin," said Badger.
One of the sophomores drew out a half-dollar and twirled it in the air.
"I'll take heads!" said Merry.
But the head of the coin fell downward, and Badger, taking the gun given
him, walked out to the line and faced the traps.
"We will have no signaling," he said, turning round and facing
Merriwell's crowd. "As we step up here, let the traps be sprung, and
we'll shoot at the birds, whether ready or not."
He was supremely confident in his own abilities.
"All right. Any way to suit you. Go ahead!"
Before Badger could turn back, he heard the sound made by the traps
springing. Two birds shot out, one toward the right and the other
straight away.
Bang! bang! Badger wheeled and fired quickly, and made a clean kill of
both birds. There was a skirmish fire of clapping hands in the circle of
his admirers.
"Fine work!" Merriwell admitted, as he stepped into place with Bart's
gun.
He stood with his gun down until the birds were hurled from the traps,
then, with a couple of quick snapshots, smashed them to pieces.
"Whoop-e-ee-ee!" squealed Danny Griswold, turning a handspring. "This
soft snap can shoot a little!"
Again the Westerner made a clean kill of two birds. Frank followed him
and did the same.
Five times more the Kansan did this, and Merriwell duplicated the
performance. The antagonistic crowds ceased to whoop and shout their
exclamations of pleasure. The thing was becoming interesting. It began
to seem that Badger and Merriwell would again tie. Then Badger, becoming
overconfident, missed a bird. He stepped back, with a look of chagrin on
his face.
Frank stepped forward, pitched up his gun as the birds were thrown--and
missed one! Merriwell missed with the left barrel of his gun, and Badger
had missed with the left barrel.
"Now you're monkeying!" Hodge grumbled, as Merriwell retired into the
circle of his friends. "Don't do it, Merry! What did you do that for?
You could have made the whole string straight, without a single
goose-egg!"
Badger's dark, heavy face was flushed as he advanced again into
position. He felt, like Hodge, that Merriwell had purposely missed that
second bird, and it annoyed and angered him. This was the worst possible
thing that could have happened to him, for when he fired he again missed
a bird.
"Don't imitate him again!" Hodge implored.
And Merriwell did not. He made a clean kill of both birds.
"Only two more birds apiece, and Merry one ahead!" squealed Bink, vainly
tiptoeing to see as well as those who were taller.
"You want to see Merry do him up?" said Bruce. "You little runt, I'll
take pity on you!"
"Me, too!" squeaked Danny.
With little apparent exertion of strength, Browning hoisted the little
fellows to his shoulders, thus elevating them above the heads of others,
where they sat in great glee, squealing and laughing, Danny on the young
giant's right shoulder and Bink on his left, as Badger walked out to
shoot at his last two birds.
Again the Westerner killed his birds.
"Now, if Merry misses one, it will be another tie!" grunted Bart.
"Stop hawking through your tat--I mean----Oh, I don't know what I mean!
But just keep still!" Rattleton almost breathlessly begged. "Merry is
all right!"
And Rattleton's confidence was justified. Merry fired, with the same
result.
"Pulverized 'em!" howled Bink.
"Smashed 'em into bug-dust!" squealed Danny.
"Bub-bub-beat Badger again!" sputtered Gamp.
A cheer of gratification went up from the circle of Frank's friends.
Merriwell motioned to Rattleton to bring him some shells.
"Bring me Danny's gun, too!" he called; and Harry ran out to him with a
box of shells that he knew were reliable and with Griswold's repeating
shotgun.
"All three traps at once!" said Merriwell to the trap manipulators.
Three birds flew at the same moment of time.
Bang! bang! bang!
Badger in his best shooting at two birds had never made cleaner kills.
The clay birds seemed to vanish in puffs of dust at the crack of the
gun. Merriwell put down Danny's repeater, and took up Bart's gun.
"Three birds again!" he commanded, as he dropped in the two shells and
closed the breech with a click.
Almost before the words were out of his mouth, the birds were thrown.
Bang! bang! bang!
He killed the left and center birds with the two loads in the gun; then
reloaded and killed the third bird before it could touch the ground!
Badger's face grew redder. There was a wild clapping of hands, joined in
by many who were in Badger's crowd.
"Whoop-ee-e-ee!" squealed Danny, wildly waving his cap. "Who says we
can't shoot?"
They had been shooting at a rise of twenty-five yards. Merriwell stepped
back five yards, thus increasing the distance to thirty. He loaded his
gun and held an extra shell in his left hand. Then he turned his back on
the traps.
"Pull when you want to?" he called.
The manipulators of the traps seemed to desire to test him. There was an
exasperating delay and some questions; then the traps were sprung with
startling suddenness.
Merriwell's quick ear was alert. He wheeled as if on a pivot, killed the
left bird and the right one. Then dropped in another shell with a
slowness that set Bart Hodge wild, and killed the third bird, which had
gone off at a difficult tangent, at a distance of at least sixty yards!
"Come on!" grated Defarge, almost beside himself with anger and
disappointment. "The devil can't beat him! Let's get out of here!"
"Right!" said Pike, also turning wrathfully away. Badger seemed turned
to a statue.
Then again the unexpected happened. A sophomore, who was known to be an
intimate friend of Morton Agnew, by seeming accident fired off a gun
with which he had been monkeying. Agnew, who had, unnoticed, wormed his
way into Merriwell's crowd during the excitement of the
shooting-contest, fell to the ground with a cry, as if shot, knocking
Harry Rattleton over as he did so.
The shells which Harry had been so carefully guarding were scattered on
the ground, and seemed likely to be stepped on and lost in the
excitement that followed.
Agnew flounced and threshed about, crying out that he was shot. He was
anxiously lifted up, and on his face was seen a drop of blood, which had
come from a cut recently made.
"One shot went in right there!" he cried. "I think there are others! Get
me into a carriage quick!"
A half-dozen young fellows ran for the nearest carriage, toward which
Agnew was conducted as rapidly as possible. Harry Rattleton seemed
dazed, and began to look about on the ground as the crowd thinned out
there, Merriwell hurried to him.
"What's the matter?" he anxiously asked.
"The shells were knocked out of my hands!" gasped Rattleton. "And not
half of them seem to be here!"
Merriwell's look became anxious. He stooped down with Harry and began to
gather up the shells.
"A shrewd trick, but it didn't work!" he exclaimed, holding up a
cartridge. "Here is one of those that were fixed for me, anyway. And now
I know that Agnew did it, and that he intended to kill me!"
The other shells which Agnew had prepared were gone, having been
gathered up in the midst of the tumult and excitement and cleverly
slipped by Agnew into his pockets.
"Who fired that shot?" Merriwell asked.
"I don't know!"
Others were gathering round.
"He tried to kill me, Harry, and I shall strike back. And when I strike
I shall strike in a way to make the stroke felt!"