Frank Merriwell's Backers; Or, The Pride of His Friends

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  BOXER TO THE RESCUE.

  The second ruffian was ejected, and Frank and the talking dog wereregarded with unbounded admiration by every one present.

  "I neffer haf seen Shentle Pob done upness pefore," remarkedSchlitzenheimer. "He vos a pad man."

  "You bettee!" put in Sing Lee, who crept forth from behind a barrel,where he had taken refuge during the encounter. "Him velly bad. Himshootee, stabbee, killee."

  "An' so he will," nodded Pat O'Grady, seeming quite concerned. "It's meopinion he wur lookin' fer throuble whin he came here."

  "Well, he found it," smiled Merry.

  "That's what!" said Boxer, wagging his tail and looking up at Frankknowingly. "But he tasted disagreeable. You don't suppose it will makeme sick, do you?"

  Frank stooped and patted the dog's head.

  "I hope not," he laughed. "You got hold of his leg just in time, oldboy."

  "Oh, I didn't dally when I saw him throw his gun out," said Boxer,winking rapidly with both eyes. "I allowed he was going to beginshooting directly."

  "Uf you vould tookit my device," said Schlitzenheimer, "you couldt outuf dis town get a hurriness indo."

  "Thot's roight," nodded O'Grady. "It's moighty dangerous to remain afterthis, Oi know."

  "Pob vill got vor heemseluf another gun, und he vill look vor you on dersdreet," declared the saloon-keeper.

  "Well, he may find us, eh, Boxer?" smiled Frank.

  "Sure thing," said the dog. "And I reckon you can shoot as quick and asstraight as he can."

  Schlitzenheimer shook his head and averred that Bob was the greatestpistol-shot known in those parts, which, however, did not seem to alarmFrank Merriwell in the least.

  Suddenly there came a scream from the street, the voice being that of agirl, and the sound indicating that she was in great fear and distress.

  Frank sprang to the open door, Boxer barking at his heels, and Hodge wasnot slow in following.

  The cry had issued from the lips of June Arlington, who was then on herway to the post-office to mail the letter she had written, not wishingher mother to see it.

  June had arrived in the vicinity of the saloon as Gentle Bob was turningaway. She noted that the man's face was cut and bruised and one eye wasswollen. His appearance led her to look at him with something likesympathy, when, of a sudden, he turned on her, smiling evilly, andseized her arm.

  "Derned ef you ain't a right peert gal!" said the fellow insolently."Gimme a kiss, sweetness."

  Then June screamed and tried to break away, striking at him with herclenched fist. She was frightened and angry.

  "Stop yer squarmin'!" snarled the fellow, who had thought to kiss herquickly before she could make much resistance, and then hasten along, itbeing his intention to boast of what he had done.

  But June would not stop. She saw a tall, athletic young man comebounding through an open doorway into the street, followed closely by adog and another young man. Her eyes recognized the one in advance, andshe cried out:

  "Mr. Merriwell, help--help, quick!"

  With a growl of rage, Gentle Bob released her and turned. As he did so,the dog, terrible in his fury, shot past Frank, and made a great springthrough the air straight at Bob's throat.

  Bob threw up his arm, and the teeth of the dog fastened on it. The forceof the creature's leap hurled the ruffian backward.

  The man went down in the dust, and Boxer was at him with all the fury ofa mad animal. He would have torn the wretch to pieces right before theireyes, but Frank fearlessly grasped the dog and pulled him away, at thesame time crying commandingly to him.

  "Keep him off!" palpitated Bob, now filled with a great terror for thefierce animal. "Don't let him touch me ag'in! He's near bit me to piecesnow!"

  "You got just what you deserved, and no more, you miserable creature!"said Frank indignantly.

  Then he turned and asked June what Bob had been doing.

  "Oh, he grasped me, and he tried to kiss me!"

  "Did he!" grated Merry, very white. "Then I should have let Boxer finishhim!"

  "No, no!" gasped June.

  "No, no!" exclaimed Bob.

  "On your knees!" cried Frank, in ringing tones--"on your knees andapologize to the young lady! If you don't do it, so help me, I'll letBoxer get at you again!"

  Bob did not hesitate. Ruffian and desperado though he was reputed to be,he cast himself on his knees before June and humbly begged her pardon,all the while watching Boxer, who glared back at him and licked hischops.

  "Get up and go, you pitiful coward!" said Frank. "Keep out of my sightwhile I'm in town, and be careful not to try any dirty tricks. If youhurt me, Boxer will eat you up; if you hurt Boxer, I'll have your life!Go!"

  The wretch lost not a moment in getting away.

  Frank stooped and picked up the letter June had dropped. He wasrestoring it to her when his eye caught the address upon it, and hestared in astonishment.

  "MR. RICHARD MERRIWELL, "Fardale."

  That was the name and address he read. Then he looked closely at Juneand recognized her.

  "Miss Arlington?" he exclaimed, his hat in his hand; "is it possible?"

  The color was coming back into her cheeks.

  "Mr. Merriwell," she said, "let me thank you for coming so quickly to myassistance."

  "It was Boxer who got there first. But I'm amazed to see you here--herein Arizona."

  "I don't doubt it."

  "What brings you to this place?"

  "I came with my mother."

  "Your--your mother?" he said, still further astonished. "And yourfather--he is here, also?"

  "No, sir."

  "He is coming?"

  "No, sir, I believe not."

  Merry had thought at once that there might be a very good reason why D.Roscoe Arlington should come to Holbrook to learn just how well thehired ruffians of the syndicate had performed their tasks, but thepresence there of Mrs. Arlington and June, without D. Roscoe, ratherbewildered him.

  June looked back toward the hotel windows, thinking it must be that hermother had heard her cry and would be looking forth; but was relievedto see nothing of the lady.

  "You were on your way to mail this letter?" said Frank, divining herdestination.

  "Yes."

  "May I accompany you, to make sure you are not molested further?"

  She accepted his escort. Bart had lingered near, and Frank presentedhim.

  "An old school and college chum, Miss Arlington," he said, "and one ofmy closest friends."

  Bart lifted his hat and bowed, smiling a bit on the pretty girl. In hisway, which was dark and silent, he was almost every bit as handsome asFrank himself, and it is no cause of wonderment that June could notwholly repress the flash of admiration that came into her splendid eyes.

  On his part, Bart was quite smitten with her, and he stood watchingFrank walk away at her side, Boxer following, smiling without envy, yetthinking his friend fortunate to have the company of such a charminggirl for even a brief time in that part of the country.

  Frank found himself somewhat embarrassed, not a little to his surprise,as he walked down the street with June. The girl was the daughter of theman who was doing his best to bring upon Merriwell complete ruin--orseemed to be doing his best to that end, for Frank could not know thatall his trouble at the Queen Mystery had not risen directly from D.Roscoe Arlington. Much less did he suspect that any great part of itcame without Mr. Arlington's knowledge and through the vengeful maliceof Mrs. Arlington.

  It was not agreeable to speak of this matter with June, and still in hisheart Merry was more than eager to know what had brought the girl toHolbrook. He had not forgotten that it was the hand of June that hadrestored to him the precious papers relating to the mines when thosepapers had been stolen from him in Fardale, a service for which heremained grateful.

  Further than this, Frank had learned that Dick had a deep interest inJune--so deep, indeed, that the boy himself did not quit
e suspect itsmeasure. Merry had been able to read his brother, and his good sensetold him beyond question that never would Dick hold his hand from theperson of his most persistent enemy simply because that enemy's sisterthus entreated him, unless there was back of it all a feeling ofaffection for the sister that was of no small magnitude.

  That June cared something for Dick, Merry more than half-suspected, andthe sight of the name on the letter she now carried in her hand seemedvery good evidence that this was not false fancy on his part, for didshe not care for the lad far away in Fardale, then why should she writeto him?

  It was June herself who relieved Frank's embarrassment by earnestlyturning to him and beginning speech.

  "Mr. Merriwell," she said, with such a sober face that he was greatlysurprised, "I have wanted to see you since you came into town."

  "Then you knew I had entered town?"

  "I saw you; and I have wanted to speak with you to warn you."

  "To warn me?" said Frank. "Of what?"

  "Of your great danger, for you are in danger here. You have in this towna man who would kill you."

  "I think we lately parted from such a man," smiled Merry.

  "But he is not the one."

  "Is there another?"

  "Oh, yes! I saw him! Perhaps I saved your life."

  At this Frank gave a great start of surprise and asked her how thatcould be, upon which she told him how Cimarron Bill had shot at him fromthe window, and how she had spoiled the aim of the would-be murderer.She held back the fact that the man had fired from one of the windows ofher mother's rooms, and that her mother had shortly before been inconsultation with him. Still Frank was keen enough to see that she washiding something, and he had the good discernment to come close toguessing the truth.

  "Miss Arlington," he said, "it seems that I owe you my life. I heard theshot, but I could not be sure it was fired at me. If I mistake not, theman who fired it has a deadly aim, and I could not have escaped but foryour quickness in spoiling his sight. I owe you a great deal more than Ican ever repay."

  June knew something of the truth, and she was aware that her father wasconcerned in a movement the accomplishment of which meant ruin to bothFrank and Dick; therefore this acknowledgment by Frank of hisindebtedness to her caused her to flush with shame.

  "It is I who owe you a great deal!" she exclaimed. "See what you havejust done--saved me from a ruffian! But your brother--Dick--he did more.He saved me once from the fangs of furious dogs, at another time frombeing killed in a runaway, and that is not all. It is I who owe you muchmore than I can ever repay. My brother"--she choked a little--"mybrother is Dick's enemy, yet, for a promise to me, Dick has been easywith him and has not forced him in disgrace from Fardale. Oh, Mr.Merriwell!" she suddenly exclaimed, feeling her utter inability toexpress herself, "it seems to me that never before was a girl placed insuch a position as I find myself in! What can I do?"

  "You can do nothing, Miss June," he said gently. "You are not to blamefor anything that may happen, and I shall not forget that. I am verysorry for you, as I fancy you must be far from comfortable."

  At this her pride returned, and she straightened, thinking she could notacknowledge to him that her people were in the wrong.

  "You know there is always two sides to any question," she said, "andthere may be as much of right on one side as the other. I presume myfather has every reason to think himself right."

  Now, June knew that it was her mother who hated Dick and Frank withundying intensity, while her father cared very little about either ofthe Merriwells, save that he had been led to wonder immoderately at thesuccess of Frank in fighting the syndicate; but she wished to avoid theshame of confessing that her mother had such a vengeful nature and couldenter with vindictiveness into an affair that might well be left to men.

  Frank had no desire to hurt her feelings. He understood her pride andsensitiveness, and he said:

  "It is very likely you are correct about that. At any rate, we will notargue it. It is no matter for us to speak of, as what we might say wouldnot change the situation in the least. Still, if I should becomesatisfied that your father had the right in this thing, even though itstripped me of my last dollar and made me a beggar, I would surrender tohim immediately."

  She did not doubt him then, and she saw that the character of FrankMerriwell was one to be admired, his one concern being for perfect andcomplete justice, even though by justice he might be the sufferer.Inwardly she was struck with the conviction that her father seldom madeinquiry into the justice of any project he wished to carry through, hisone concern being to accomplish his ends by any method whatever, so longas it did not involve him in difficulties of a nature too serious.

  "Mr. Merriwell," she said quickly, "you must leave Holbrook just as soonas you can!"

  "Why?"

  "The man who tried to shoot you is here--the man with the wicked faceand evil eyes."

  "I am not given to running away from one man."

  "It's not that. He is an assassin! See how he tried to kill you withoutgiving you a show! You don't know what moment he may try it again. If hewere to meet you face to face it would be different. You cannot defendyourself from attacks in the dark. You have no show."

  "Well, there is some truth in that," smiled Merry.

  "He will attack you that way again. I know it! He will strike at youfrom behind."

  "Possibly."

  "You must go! You must leave Holbrook before dark!"

  "I hardly fancy it," muttered Frank, frowning. "I do not like thenotion. It leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth to think of runningaway from Cimarron Bill."

  For, although June had not mentioned the ruffian by name, not knowing itherself, her description of him had satisfied Frank that it could be noother than the baffled scoundrel who had twice attempted to seize theQueen Mystery Mine.

  "But you will go?" she urged.

  "I'll think of it."

  They had reached the post-office and were now standing in front of thebuilding. Bart Hodge was sauntering slowly in their direction on theopposite side of the street, having kept within easy pistol-shot ofFrank all the while.

  Frank's words did not satisfy June. He saw she was in distress.

  "If you will not go for your own sake," she said, "please do for mine."

  He looked astonished.

  "For your sake?" he said. "Why, I had not an idea in the world that itcould be of so much concern to you. I'm afraid I do not understand whyit should be. Now, if Dick----"

  She stopped him with a gesture, her face flushing very warm.

  "Don't!" she entreated, in a low voice. "At least, you are his ownbrother! But it is for my sake more than yours. I cannot explain. Do notembarrass me! But promise me you will go--for my sake!"

  Having a quick perception, Frank suddenly fancied he caught an inklingof the truth. In that moment he saw Mrs. Arlington dealing with CimarronBill. It was a conjecture, but it struck him hard as the truth.

  This, then, was the reason why June wished him to flee from Holbrook.She feared that her mother somehow would become involved in the murderin case Cimarron Bill should carry into execution his dastardly purpose.

  Of course, it was not possible for him to be sure he had struck upon thetruth.

  "It is hard for me to refuse a girl when she corners me like this," hesmiled.

  "You'll go?" persisted June.

  "If you insist."

  "Oh, thank you--thank you! I shall not breathe easy until I know you arewell out of this dreadful place."

  "And I shall not breathe easy as long as I know you remain here, whereyou may become subject to such insults as to-day happened. It is noplace for you at the present time. Holbrook is well enough in its way;but you are too pretty to walk its streets without an escort. Westerngentlemen are gentlemen in every sense of the word, and no man can holdthe honor of a lady more sacred; but Western ruffians are dangerous, andit seems there are several of the latter class in this place."

  "I must remain wh
ile mother stays here; I must stay with her."

  The letter was dropped in the post-office, and June urged Frank todepart at once; but he insisted on escorting her back to the hotel.

  Boxer kept close to their heels, seeming to listen to their conversationat times; but, strange though it may appear, he made no attempt to takepart in it, nor did he speak as much as one word during all the timethat he seemed neglected by his master.

  Frank made a sign to Bart, who crossed the street and joined them.

  "I have decided to leave town right away," said Merry. "Have the horsessaddled and prepared. We'll start as soon as I have escorted MissArlington back to the hotel."

  Hodge looked surprised.

  "The horses are in no condition, Frank," he said. "You know they are insore need of a good rest."

  "I know it, Bart; but I have a reason for this. We'll go. Get themready, please."

  "All right," said Bart, as he turned away to carry out instructions.