A DASTARDLY DEED.
The following afternoon there was an extra drill of Arlington’s class,
in which he was compelled to take part. He detested this work, and his
heart was full of envy as he stood in line with his classmates, bearing
a rifle, and saw the members of the baseball team, several of whom had
been excused from drill, hastening away to the ball ground.
“Oh, this is a fine old school!” he thought. “Now if I was on the
baseball team I could get out of this work.”
His mind wandered so that he failed to hear the command, twice repeated,
of “right dress,” and at length the cadet officer in command was
compelled to speak directly to him.
“Dress, Cadet Arlington!” was the order.
Chet’s face grew crimson as he moved into line with his companions. He
was destined to suffer still further annoyance, for the inspecting
officer, on looking his rifle over, reprimanded him sharply for not
having it in perfect order.
“What does he think!” Arlington mentally exclaimed. “Does he fancy I am
going to spend my time rubbing at a useless old gun with a greased rag?
That’s a fine occupation for a gentleman’s son!”
When drill was over, and he could get away, Arlington hastened toward
the ball ground, arriving there to find the boys on the point of
leaving. In vain he looked around for Merriwell.
“Hello, Arlington!” said Jack Harwood. “Why, you look ugly enough to
chew nails!”
“I am! I am sick of a school where a lot of fellows can get excused from
drill in order to put in baseball practice. I believe in using every one
alike.”
“Do you?” smiled Jack. “Why, it has been hinted here that you fancy you
should be used better than any one else.”
“Well, I haven’t been! I have been used worse! Merriwell is the only
fellow who can do just as he pleases around here. Where is he?”
“Why, I saw him a while ago,” said Jack. “I saw him strike off to the
south.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“With a ball suit on?”
“Yes.”
“Wonder where he was going?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll bet I do!” muttered Chet.
Five minutes later Arlington was also hurrying away.
“Let me catch him!” he growled. “I know where he has gone! He is playing
a double game.”
Coming to the woods, he hurried along the path that led to the rustic
bridge over Ripple Brook. As he approached the vicinity of the bridge he
moved with great caution, coming at last to a point where he could look
down along the path and see the bridge. There he suddenly halted.
Leaning on the rail of the bridge, he saw Zona Desmond.
Beyond Zona, at the opposite end of the bridge, partly hidden from view,
he beheld another girl in company with Dick, who was talking to her. The
foliage prevented him from obtaining more than a glimpse of them, and
immediately he hissed:
“I knew it! He came here to meet Doris. If ever there was a two-faced
duffer, it is Merriwell; but I will fix him—I will fix him!”
Backing away a short distance, he turned and fled along the path,
retracing his course. He did not stop running until he was within sight
of the academy. There were some boys on the parade ground, and he
hastened toward them.
“Seen anything of Darrell?” he asked.
“Why, yes,” answered one. “There he is over yonder.”
Reaching Hal, Chet touched him on the shoulder.
“I have something to tell you,” he said.
Darrell frowned.
“All right; tell away.”
“It’s private.”
“Private?”
“Yes. It will interest you, and you won’t care to have everybody hear
it.”
Chet drew aside and, after a moment’s hesitation, Hal followed him. He
did not trust Arlington, whom he regarded with the greatest aversion,
yet something led him to listen to the fellow’s words.
“I presume,” said Chester, “you think Dick Merriwell is one of your
friends? You fancy him a fine sort of a chum, don’t you?”
“We’re not chums,” retorted Hal. “We’re simply friends.”
“Oh! you’re friends, are you?” was the sneering retort. “I suppose you
are such friends that you are always open and aboveboard with each
other. You wouldn’t deceive each other for the world, would you? You
don’t have an idea that Merriwell would fool you?”
“He is not that kind.”
“Oh! isn’t he? That shows how little you know him.”
“I am sick of this business, Arlington,” declared Darrell. “No fellow in
this school has done as much for you as Merriwell. Yet you continue to
backbite him. What sort of a cock-and-bull story have you faked up now?”
“Oh! I am not going to tell you any story, but if you want to see
something with your own eyes that will wake you up, just follow me and
get a move on.”
“I can’t waste time in chasing you about.”
“Well, you’d better—you’d better!” nodded Chet. “I will show you
something that will make you sizzle.”
“What will you show me?”
“Come and see. I will prove to you by the evidence of your own eyes that
Dick Merriwell is a double-faced sneak. If I don’t prove it——”
“If you don’t prove it,” said Hal grimly, “I will make you wish you had!
Go ahead!”
“You will follow?”
“Yes. Lead on.”
Not a few of the boys were surprised to see Chet and Hal walking rapidly
away in company. As soon as they were some distance from the academy and
not liable to attract attention, Arlington started into a run.
“We must hurry!” he called. “Get a gait on you, Darrell!”
Coming to the path through the woods, they ran along this, with Chet in
advance and Hal close at his heels.
“I am a fool!” thought Darrell more than once. “I know it. I ought to be
kicked for taking any stock in him.”
Approaching a spot from which they might peer down the path to the
bridge, Chester slackened his pace and cautioned his companion to move
silently.
At last Darrell reached out and seized Chet by the collar, stopping him
in his tracks.
“Now, hold on,” he said, in a low tone, “I want you to tell me just what
you are going to show me.”
“You will see in a minute.”
“What is it?” demanded Hal. “I refuse to play the monkey any longer
unless I know why I do it.”
“Don’t speak so loud!” whispered Arlington. “We will be in sight of the
bridge in a minute. There is some one down there by the bridge, or was a
short time ago.”
“Merriwell?”
“Yes.”
“Who else?”
“Oh, two girls!”
“Who are they?”
“Well, one is Zona Desmond; but she didn’t go there to meet Merriwell.
She just came to accompany a chum. Now you ought to guess who the other
girl is. You know who she chums with.”
Hal’s eyes gleamed.
“See here,” he said, “you don’t mean to tell me that Doris Templeton met
Merriwell at the rustic bridge by appointment?”
“Don’t I?”
“Do you?”
“It looks like it. I saw them together down there.”
“I believe you lie!” grated Hal. “Why, Doris told me herself——”
Chester began to laugh.
“So she told you she would never have anything more to do with
Merriwell, did she? Ha! ha! She probably thought so then; but you know
how he fascinates the girls. They can’t resist him. He is a perfect
sneak! He charms them!”
“Your sister——”
“Now don’t say a word about her!” harshly exclaimed Chester, in a low
tone. “I’d give fifty dollars to have her here now so I could show her!
I have done everything possible to break her foolish friendship with
that fellow.”
Darrell felt his blood burning hot in his veins. His admiration for
Doris had remained unchanged through everything, but the manner in which
he believed she had “turned him down” for Dick had made him bitter and
morose. At last her eyes had been opened to the fact that Merriwell
admired June Arlington more than any one else, and again she had turned
to Darrell. This had filled him with deepest satisfaction, and over and
over he vowed Merriwell should never again interfere between them.
Now—now, what if they had met by appointment at the bridge!
“Go on, Arlington!” he said. “Hustle! Prove it—or you will wish you
had!”
Once more they stole softly forward, quickly coming to the spot where
the bridge could be seen.
Chester had feared the trio might have left the bridge during his
absence; but his heart gave a leap of triumph as he saw they were still
there. Dick was talking to both of the girls now, while Zona was idly
tossing pebbles into the pool below the bridge.
“There!” panted Chet. “There they are! Now you see! Now you’re
satisfied!”
Hal stood quite still for a moment, then began to retreat softly,
drawing back so that he could not be seen by the three on the bridge.
Chester followed, eagerly demanding:
“What are you going to do? Aren’t you going down there and pitch into
him?”
“You poor fool,” retorted Hal, in the greatest disgust. “You miserable,
sneaking spy!”
“Here! here!” grated Arlington. “What do you mean by talking like that?”
“Why, you blithering idiot,” said Darrell, “that’s not Doris down there
with them! That’s your own sister, June!”
Arlington stood still a moment as if turned to stone. Then he whirled
and peered forth along the path toward the bridge.
Darrell had spoken the truth. In his eagerness and excitement Chester
had not paused to obtain a good view of the girl with Merriwell, being
convinced on seeing Zona that her companion must be Doris.
“Well, I’ll be blowed!” he growled, backing away. “I swear I thought it
was Doris!”
Darrell stood looking at him, with an expression of supreme contempt on
his face.
“Arlington,” he said, “you’re not only an ingrate, but you’re a liar and
a sneak! That’s my opinion of you.”
“Be careful!” palpitated Chet, quivering with disappointment and rage.
“I won’t stand that from any fellow!”
“You will have to stand it from me!” retorted Hal, in the same low tone.
“You know it’s the truth, too! You have been lying about Merriwell, and
now you play the spy upon him! Why, I thought you had reformed—and that
you were going to be honorable and upright! Is this your honor? There is
not a particle of decency in your miserable body! You don’t know what it
is to be decent! You’re a disgrace to your sister and to your family!
You are a disgrace to Fardale! I was a fool to take any stock in you and
follow you here! I am ashamed of it! Here and now I quit you, and I want
you to keep away from me at all times in the future!”
With that Hal turned his back on Chester and started to move away.
Shaking with rage, Arlington made two swift, silent steps and leaped on
Hal’s back, grasping him by the throat and hurling him to the ground.
Hal made a desperate effort to turn on his assailant, and together they
rolled over and over in the path until they came to the top of the
slope, down which they plunged, crashing into the bushes at one side.
Arlington’s hold was broken, but he continued fighting savagely.
The girls and Dick had been startled by the sounds, and now Merriwell
came running up the path. June and Zona followed.
When Dick reached the struggling boys he found Hal holding Chet down,
and was in time to see Darrell lifting his clinched fist. With a leap he
seized Darrell’s fist and prevented the blow.
“Hold on, Hal!” he exclaimed. “Don’t hit him!”
June saw her brother and uttered a cry of alarm as she ran forward.
“The spy! The sneak!” grated Darrell.
“Let me up!” panted Arlington.
“Don’t! don’t—don’t strike my brother!” burst from June’s lips.
“The girls, Hal—think of the girls!” urged Dick.
“He jumped on me!” declared Chester. “He jumped on my back!”
“You liar!” hissed Darrell.
“Let him up, Hal,” urged Dick. “It’s the best thing you can do. Let him
up.”
June added her pleading, and Darrell finally rose to his feet. Arlington
scrambled up, livid with rage.
“You will pay for this!” he palpitated, shaking his fist at Darrell. “I
will fix you for this!”
He seemed on the point of again attacking the boy he had so
treacherously assaulted. June seized his arm.
“Stop, Chester—for my sake, stop!”
“For your sake!” he snarled, turning on her. “Why should I do anything
for you? What do you mean by coming here to meet this duffer, Merriwell?
I thought better of you! You’re a fine sister to have! I’m ashamed of
you! You’re a disgrace!”
“Chester!” she gasped.
“I mean it!” he raged. “Now, you come along with me!”
Saying which he seized her roughly by the arm, giving it a jerk that
made her utter a cry of pain.
That was too much for Dick, who suddenly tore him from June and sent him
staggering to one side.
“Don’t put your hands on her again, Arlington!” he said, in a low tone,
his eyes blazing.
“You’re crazy, Chester!” exclaimed June.
“Well, isn’t it enough to make a fellow crazy! What will your mother say
when I tell her? Nice sort of a girl you are!”
Dick quickly stepped toward Chet.
“Another insulting word from your lips and you will regret it!” he
declared.
Their eyes met, and for a moment there was a silent battle between them.
At last Chester looked down.
“Oh, this doesn’t end it!” he muttered.
“Take the girls away, Merriwell,” urged Hal. “I’ll take care of him.”
“No, no!” panted June.
Turning his back on Arlington, Dick stepped to June’s side.
“Come,” he said, “let me take you back to the academy. He will be all
right when he cools down. It isn’t safe for you to trust yourself with
him now. He is beside himself with rage.”
It was quickly arranged that Hal should act as Zona’s escort, and the
four set off down the path. Chester watched them a few moments and then
deliberately started to follow, at the same time crying:
“You’re both cowards! Merriwell is a coward and a sneak! I dare him to
come back!”
“Pay no attention to him, Hal!” said Dick.
Although they disregarded Arlington, he continued to follow them all the
way through the woods.
“How did it happen?” asked June. “Why, I don’t understand it! Chester
has been so good lately, and I thought he had changed.”
“How did you two come to be there, Darrell?” asked Dick.
Hal flushed.
“I will tell you sometime,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about it
now.”
Coming to the border of the woods where they were in full view of
Lakeside Academy, Dick paused.
“I think I can handle Chester better than any one else,” he said. “I am
going back. Darrell, take the girls to the academy.”
June clung to his arm.
“Dick, you—you won’t——”
“Trust me,” he said.
“I do,” she whispered. “I trust you fully, Dick.”
Arlington saw Merriwell turn back and wondered at it.
“He’s coming!” panted Chet. “I wonder what he thinks he’s going to do?”
After a moment he turned and fled along the path, and, although Dick
followed at a rapid walk, Chester soon disappeared from view.
Wondering if Arlington would not stop, Dick continued to hurry along.
The bridge was reached and recrossed, but nowhere could Chet be seen.
Near the spot where the encounter had occurred Merriwell paused a
moment.
“Strange,” he muttered. “Strange Darrell should be here with him!”
On the ground near his feet he saw a jackknife, and he stooped to pick
it up. As he bent over something came whizzing through the air and
struck him on the side of the head. It was a heavy stone, and Dick fell
senseless to the ground.
As the stricken boy lay there the bushes were parted and a pair of eyes
peered out at him. They were set in a pale, wrathful face, and the voice
of Arlington muttered:
“Soaked you that time!”
Then, as Dick continued to remain motionless, Chester came creeping from
the bushes and hesitatingly approached him.
“Hit him plumb on the head,” he said. “That was a big stone, too. By
George! perhaps I cracked his skull!”
Drawing a little nearer and feeling a quiver of apprehension run over
him, Chester bent and turned the prostrate lad upon his back. As he did
so he saw a streak of blood across Merriwell’s temple.
A gasp came from the lips of the young scoundrel and he straightened up.
“Heavens!” he muttered, “I believe I have fixed him! Must have hit him
fairly on the temple. If I did he’s dead, that’s all!”
Fear grew upon him as he stared at the pallid face of the unconscious
lad. Bending over, he placed his hand on Dick’s breast. With a cry he
started back.
“He’s dead!” he whispered. “I have killed him! Good Lord! what a
scrape!”
He was trembling in every limb. Suddenly he crouched like a hunted thing
and began staring around.
“No one saw me!” he whispered. “They can’t prove it! What will I do?
Darrell will find him when he comes back!”
Through his mind ran a wild plan to carry the body away into the woods
and conceal it somewhere. With this object in view, he again bent over
Merriwell; but suddenly terror seized him to such an extent that he
could not touch the silent figure.
“No, no!” he half screamed, as he quickly drew back. “I can’t do it—I
can’t! I won’t put my hands on him again!”
With his heart pounding furiously in his bosom, he began to retreat, his
eyes still fixed on the boy he had so treacherously struck down. Step by
step, foot by foot, he backed away. The bushes closed around him. He
paused a moment to take a last look at that still form and then
vanished.
With a feeling of horror and guilt growing upon him, he hurried away
into the silent woods. Now and then he cast an apprehensive glance
backward over his shoulder, for time after time he felt that the spirit
of the lad he had slain was following him.
“They will call it murder!” he groaned. “But I’ll deny it! I’ll swear I
never did it! How can they prove it against me?”
The woods grew thicker and thicker. Finally he found himself crashing
and floundering through a dense jungle. Before him the tangled bushes
seemed to bar his way, and, as he sought to force a passage, they
resisted and held him back.
“You can’t stop me!” he snarled. “You can’t hold me! I know what you are
trying to do. You want him to catch me!”
At length he paused, panting and exhausted. For some moments he stood
listening to the silence of the forest. Behind him at a distance a twig
snapped. It seemed as loud as a pistol shot, and he gave a great start.
“He’s coming! he’s coming!” he palpitated, and then tore his way through
the tangled underbrush. The branches whipped his face and tore his
clothes. He tripped and fell on his hands and knees. He crept onward.
Finally he sank on his stomach, prostrate on the dank ground, where he
lay trembling and breathing heavily. Somewhere in the dense wood a tree
toad piped mournfully.
“Peep! peep! peep!” cried the little fellow, and there was unutterable
sadness and lamentation in the sound.
“Dry up!” whispered the haunted lad. “Be still and let me listen!”
But the only voice he could hear, save that of the tree toad, was the
voice of his conscience, which seemed to whisper over and over:
“You’re a murderer! You’re a murderer!”
“Who says so?” he almost shouted. “It’s a lie! It’s a lie! I am not a
murderer!”
But a gloomy echo answered:
“Murderer!”