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

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER XXV.

  UNTO DEATH!

  The sun was down in the west and night was gathering over the face ofthe world when Frank and Bart rode forth from Holbrook, setting theirfaces to the southwest. Boxer trotted behind them.

  They were not molested, although Frank remained in constant expectationof an attack until they were fairly clear of the place and had it a longrifle-shot at their backs.

  The blue night grew upon the distant plain, and the stars were comingforth over their heads as they rode down into the distance, the beatinghoofs of the ponies making rhythm on the baked ground. The first coolbreath of night touched their heated cheeks with grateful kisses.

  "How did you happen to do it, Frank?" asked Bart.

  "I found out a thing or two," Merry answered. "Cimarron Bill is in town,and he was watching his chance to get another shot at me."

  "Another?" exclaimed Bart; upon which Merry explained how Bill had firedat him already.

  "It was rather dangerous to stay there, and I couldn't resist when apretty girl took enough interest in me to urge me to get away," Franklaughed. "We had some sport with our talking dog, and now----"

  "You can't mean to ride far?"

  "Remember the hut we passed on the way into town? It's not very far.We'll stop there to-night."

  "Good!" said Bart; and they rode on.

  Coming to the deserted hut, they stopped there. The horses were caredfor, and Frank and Bart entered the hut with their blankets, where theyprepared to sleep until toward morning, planning to rise before daybreakand get an early start, so that some distance could be covered ere thesun rose.

  Both of the young men were weary, and they lost little time in drawingtheir blankets about them and rolling on the floor. Boxer curled in acorner and went to sleep. The door of the hut was left open to admit thecool night air.

  Frank fell asleep at once, and Bart was not slow in following hisexample.

  They were awakened in the middle of the night by a snarl, a cry, astruggle, and a fall. Both sat up, grasping their weapons.

  The moon was up, and by its light, which streamed in at the wide-opendoor, a man and a dog were seen struggling on the floor. The dog wasBoxer, who had leaped at the throat of the man as he came slipping in atthe open door.

  "Great Scott!" exclaimed Hodge. "What's the meaning of this?"

  "One of my friends has arrived," said Frank. "Boxer has him."

  The struggle was fierce and terrible. The dog seemed to have the man bythe throat. Before either Merry or Hodge could interfere the moonlightglinted on something bright in the hand of the man, who struck andstruck again.

  Not a sound came from the dog. But the bright thing in the man's handgrew suddenly dark.

  "Heavens!" gasped Frank, leaping forward. "He has a knife!"

  Then a terrible sound came from the throat of the man, and he lifted hisarm no more. The thing in his hand, dark and dripping, fell to the floorof the hut.

  A moment later the man rolled into the shadow, and then Boxer was seendragging himself away, while the man lay still.

  "Boxer! Boxer!" cried Frank, bending over the dog. "Are you hurt, boy?Merciful goodness! he ripped your whole side open with that knife!"

  Hodge struck a light and bent over the man who lay in the shadow. Whenthe match burned out in his fingers he dropped it and stepped out tojoin Merriwell, who had picked up the dog and carried the creature intothe open air.

  Bart found Merry sitting on the ground, with the dog in his arms. Boxerhad been cut in a terrible manner, and was bleeding in a way thatplainly told his end was near.

  "Oh, the wretch!" choked Merry, in a husky voice. "Oh, the wretch whodid this! He ought to be hanged!"

  "No need of hanging for him," said Hodge. "He'll be beyond that in lessthan three minutes."

  "You mean----"

  "He's pretty near dead now. Boxer's teeth found his jugular vein."

  "Who was it, Bart?"

  "The fellow who made the row in Schlitzenheimer's saloon."

  "Gentle Bob?"

  "Yes."

  "One of Cimarron Bill's hired tools, or I am mistaken! He followed ushere and tried to creep in on us with that knife, meaning to finish thejob at which he failed in town. Boxer saved us. Good old Boxer! Poor oldBoxer!"

  The dog whined a little on hearing this name from Frank's lip's, andfeebly wagged his tail. The moonlight showed his eyes turned towardMerry's face.

  "Is it so bad there's no show for him?" asked Hodge, in genuinedistress.

  "No show!" sobbed Frank. "He's finished, Bart! It's a shame! The mostknowing dog in the whole world! And he has to die like this, killed by ahuman being that is more of a beast than he!"

  "It's a shame!" said Bart.

  The dog licked Frank's hand. Merry bowed his head, and tears startedfrom his eyes.

  "Poor Boxer!" he choked. "Boxer, we have to part here. You're going toanother country, where I must follow in time. It's all up with you. Youmay find your first master over there; but he'll never love you morethan I have. Good-by, Boxer!"

  The dog uttered a whine. And so his life ended in Frank's arms, with themoonlight falling on them and the stillness of the Arizona night allaround.

  Hodge entered the hut, only to come forth, bringing the blankets andlooking very sick.

  "For Heaven's sake, let's get away from here!" he exclaimed.

  "The man in there?"

  "Dead!" said Bart. "The place is gory! I'm faint from it!"

  Boxer's body was wrapped in a blanket, and they mounted and rode away,Frank carrying the dead dog in his arms to find a burial place wherethere could be no chance that his body should be exhumed by any prowlingthing of the desert.