Frank Merriwell's New Comedian; Or, The Rise of a Star

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER X.

  AT THE FOOT OF THE BED.

  Late that evening, after the work and rehearsing of the day was over,Frank, Bart and Ephraim gathered in the room of the first-mentioned anddiscussed matters.

  "I told you Burns was no good," said Hodge, triumphantly, "I knew how itwould be, but he showed up sooner than I expected. I suppose you willget rid of him in a hurry now?"

  "I think not," answered Merry, quietly.

  "What?" cried Hodge, astounded. "You don't mean to say you will keep himafter what has happened?"

  "I may."

  "Well, Frank, I'm beginning to believe the theatrical business hasturned your head. You do not seem to possess the good sense you hadonce."

  "Is that so?" laughed Merry.

  "Just so!" snapped Hodge.

  "Oh, I don't know! I rather think Burns will turn out all right."

  "After making such a fizzle to-day? Well, you're daffy!"

  "You do not seem to understand the man at all. I can appreciate hisfeelings."

  "I can't!"

  "I thought not. It must be rather hard for him, who has alwaysconsidered himself a tragedian and a Shakespeare scholar, to burlesquethe parts he has studied and loved."

  "Bah! That's nonsense! Why, the man's a pitiful old drunkard! You givehim credit for too fine feelings."

  "And you do not seem to give him credit for any feelings. Even adrunkard may have fine feelings at times."

  "Perhaps so."

  "Perhaps so! I know it. It is drink that degrades and lowers the man.When he is sober, he may be kind, gentle and lovable."

  "Well, I haven't much patience with a man who will keep himself filledwith whisky."

  Frank opened his lips to say something, but quickly changed his mind,knowing he must cut Hodge deeply. He longed, however, to say that theones most prone to err and fall in this life are often the harshestjudges of others who go astray.

  "I ruther pity the pore critter," said Ephraim; "but I don't b'lievehe'll ever make ennyboddy larf in the world. He looks too much like afuneral."

  "That is the very thing that should make them laugh, when he has hismake-up on. I have seen the burlesque tragedian overdone on the stage,so that he was nauseating; but I believe Burns can give the characterjust the right touch."

  "Well, if you firmly believe that, it's no use to talk to you, foryou'll never change your mind till you have to," broke out Hodge. "Ihave seen a sample of that in the way you deal with your enemies. Now,there was Leslie Lawrence----"

  "Let him rest in peace," said Frank. "He is gone forever."

  "An' it's a dinged good riddance!" said Gallup. "The only thing I'msorry fer is that the critter escaped lynchin'!"

  "Yes, he should have been lynched!" flashed Bart. "At the Twin StarRanch now the poor girl he deserted is lying on a bed of pain, shot downby his dastardly hand."

  "He did not intend the bullet for her," said Frank, quickly.

  "No; but he intended it for you! It was a great case of luck that hedidn't finish you. If you had pushed the villain to the wall beforethat, instead of dealing with him as if he had the least instinct of agentleman in his worthless body, you would have saved the girl from somuch suffering."

  "She loves him still," said Frank. "Her last words to me were a messageto him, for she does not know he is dead beneath the quicksands of BigSandy."

  "The quicksands saved him from the gallows."

  "An' they took another ungrateful rascal along with him, b'gee!" saidEphraim, with satisfaction.

  "Yes," nodded Frank; "I think there is no doubt but Lloyd Fowlerperished with Lawrence, for I fancied I recognized Fowler in the fellowwho accompanied Lawrence that fatal night."

  "And Fowler was a drinking man, so I should think he would be a warningto you," said Hodge. "I shouldn't think you'd care to take another sotinto the company."

  "You must know that there is as little resemblance between Fowler andBurns as there is between night and day."

  "Perhaps so, but Burns can drink more whisky than Fowler ever could."

  "And he is ashamed of himself for it. I have talked with him about it,and I know."

  "Oh, he made you believe so. He is slick."

  "He was not trying to deceive me."

  "So you think. He knows where his money comes from to buy whisky. It'smore than even chance that, when you are ready to start on the road, hewill give you the slip."

  "He asked me to release him to-day."

  "And you refused?"

  "I did. I urged him to stay with us."

  Hodge got up.

  "That settles it!" he exclaimed. "Now I know theatricals have wroughtyour downfall! Your glory is fast departing."

  "Then let it depart!" laughed Frank. "You have been forced to confessyourself mistaken on other occasions; you may on this."

  "Good-night," said Hodge, and he went out.

  Ephraim grinned.

  "Some fellows would say it'd be a gol-danged sensible thing fer yeou togit rid of that feller," he said, nodding toward the door. "He's gittin'to be the greatest croaker I ever knew."

  "Hodge is getting worse," admitted Frank, gravely. "I think theunfortunate end of his college course has had much to do with it. Hebroods over that a great deal, and it is making him sour and unpleasant.I can imagine about how he feels."

  "If he ever larfed he'd be more agreeable. Danged if I like a fellerthat alwus looks so sollum an' ugly. Sometimes he looks as ef he couldsnap a spike off at one bite an' not harf try."

  "Wait," said Frank. "If I am successful with this play, I hope to goback to Yale in the fall and take Hodge with me. I think he is gettingan idea into his head that his life career has been ruined at the verystart, and that is making him bitter. I'll take him back, run him intoathletics, get his mind off such unpleasant thoughts, and make a new manof him."

  "Waal, I hope ye do," said Gallup, rising and preparing to go. "There'sjest one thing abaout Hodge that makes me keer a rap fer him."

  "What's that?"

  "It's ther way he sticks to yeou. Be gosh! I be'lieve he'd wade througha red-hot furnace to reach yeou an' fight for yeou, if yeou was indanger!"

  "I haven't a doubt but he'd make the attempt," nodded Frank.

  "An' he kin fight," the Vermonter went on. "Aout at Ace High, when wewas up against all them ruffians, he fought like a dozen tigers allrolled inter one. That's ernnther thing that makes me think a littlesomethin' of him."

  "Yes," agreed Merry, "Bart is a good fighter. The only trouble with himis that he is too ready to fight. There are times when one should avoida fight, if possible; but Hodge never recognizes any of those times. Inever knew him to try to avoid a fight."

  "Waal," drawled Ephraim, with a yawn, "I'm goin' to bed. Good-night,Frank."

  "Good-night."

  Merry closed the door after Gallup and carefully locked and bolted it.Then he sat down, took a letter from his pocket, and read it throughfrom beginning to end. When he had finished, he pressed the missive tohis lips, murmuring:

  "Elsie! Elsie! dear little sweetheart!"

  For some time he sat there, thinking, thinking. His face flushed andpaled softened and glowed again; sometimes he looked sad, and sometimeshe smiled. Had a friend been there, he might have read Frank's thoughtsby the changing expressions on his face.

  At last Merry put away the letter, after kissing it again, and, havingwound up his watch, undressed and prepared for bed. His bed stood in alittle alcove of the room, and he drew the curtains back, exposing it.Donning pajamas, he soon was in bed. Reaching out, he pressed a button,and--snap!--out went the gas, turned off by electricity.

  Frank composed himself to sleep. The dull rumble of the not yet sleepingcity came up from the streets and floated in at his open window. Thesound turned after a time to a musical note that was like that whichcomes from an organ, and it lulled him to sleep.

  For some time Merry seemed to sleep as peacefully as a child. Graduallythe roaring from the streets became less and less. Frank bre
athed softlyand regularly.

  And then, without starting or stirring, he opened his eyes. He lay quitestill and listened, but heard no sound at first. For all of this, he wasimpressed by a feeling that something was there in that room with him!

  It was a strange, creepy, chilling sensation that ran over Frank. Heshivered the least bit.

  Rustle-rustle! It was the lightest of sounds, but he was sure he heardit.

  Some object was moving in the room!

  Frank remembered that he had closed and locked the door. Not only had helocked it, but he had bolted it, so that it could not be opened from theoutside by the aid of a key alone.

  What was there in that room? How had anything gained admittance?

  Frank attempted to convince himself that it was imagination, but he wasa youth with steady nerves, and he knew he was not given to imaginingsuch things without cause.

  Rustle--rustle!

  There it was again! There was no doubt of it this time!

  Something moved near the foot of the bed!

  Still without stirring, Merriwell turned his gaze in that direction.

  At the foot of the bed a dark shape seemed to tower!

  Impressed by a sense of extreme peril, Frank shot his hand out of thebed toward the electric button on the wall.

  By chance he struck the right button.

  Snap!--up flared the gas.

  And there at the foot of the bed stood a man in black, his face hiddenby a mask.

  The sudden up-flaring of the gas seemed to startle the unknown intruderand disconcert him for a moment. With a hiss, he started backward.

  Bolt upright sat Frank.

  Merry's eyes looked straight into the eyes that peered through the twinholes in the mask.

  Thus they gazed at each other some seconds.

  There was no weapon in the hands of the masked man, and Merriwellguessed that the fellow was a burglar.

  That was Frank's first thought.

  Then came another.

  Why had the man sought the bed? Frank's clothes were lying on somechairs outside the alcove, and in order to go through them it had notbeen necessary to come near the bed.

  Then Merry remembered the feeling of danger that had come over him, andsomething told him this man had entered that room to do him harm.Somehow, Frank became convinced that the fellow had been creeping up toseize a pillow, fling himself on the bed, press the pillow over thesleeper's face, and commit a fearful crime.

  Even then Frank wondered how the man could have gained admittance to theroom.

  Up leaped the former Yale athlete; backward sprang the masked man. Overthe foot of the bed Merry recklessly flung himself, dodging a hand thatshot out at him, and placing himself between the man and the door.

  As he bounded toward the door, Merriwell saw, with a feeling ofunutterable amazement, that it was tightly closed and that the bolt wasshot in place, just as he had left it.

  He whirled about, with his back toward the door.

  "Good-evening!" he said. "Isn't this rather late for a call? I wasn'texpecting you."

  The man was crouching before him, as if to spring toward him, butFrank's cool words seemed to cause further hesitation. A muttering growlcame from behind the mask, but no words did the unknown speak.

  "It is possible you dropped into the wrong room," said Merry. "I trustyou will be able to explain yourself, for you are in a rather awkwardpredicament. Besides that, you have hidden your face, and that does notspeak well for your honest intentions."

  Without doubt, the intruder was astonished by Merriwell's wonderfulcoolness. Although startled from slumber in such a nerve-shockingmanner, Frank now seemed perfectly self-possessed.

  Silence.

  "You don't seem to be a very sociable sort of caller," said Merry, withsomething like a faint laugh. "Won't you take off your mask and sit downa while."

  The youth asked the question as if he were inviting the stranger to takeoff his hat and make himself at home.

  The man's hand slipped into his bosom. Frank fancied it sought a weapon.

  Now it happened that Merry had no weapon at hand, and he felt that hewould be in a very unpleasant position if that other were to "get thedrop" on him.

  Frank made a rush at the stranger.

  The man tried to draw something from his bosom, but it seemed to catchand hang there, and Merry was on him. The unknown tried to dodge, and hepartly succeeded in avoiding Frank's arms.

  However, he did not get fully away, and, a second later, they grappled.

  The man, however, had the advantage; for all that Frank had rushed uponhim, he had risen partly behind Merry, after dodging. He clutched Frankabout the waist and attempted to hurl him to the floor with crushingforce.

  Frank Merriwell was an expert wrestler, and, although taken thus at adisadvantage, he squirmed about and broke his fall, simply being forcedto one knee.

  "Now I have ye!" panted the man, hoarsely.

  "Have you?" came from Frank's lips. "Oh, I don't know!"

  There was a sudden upward heaving, and the ex-Yale athlete shot up tohis feet.

  But the man was on his back, and a hand came round and fastened onMerry's throat with a terrible, crushing grip.

  Frank realized that he was dealing with a desperate wretch, who wouldnot hesitate at anything. And Merriwell's life was the stake over whichthey were struggling!

  Frank got hold of the man's wrist and tore those fingers from histhroat, although it seemed that they nearly tore out his windpipe incoming away.

  On his back the fellow was panting, hoarsely, and Merry found it no easything to dislodge him.

  Round and round they whirled. Frank might have shouted for aid, but herealized that his door was bolted on the inside, and no assistance couldreach him without breaking it down.

  Besides that, Merry's pride held him in check. There was but oneintruder, and he did not feel like shouting and thus seeming to confesshimself outmatched and frightened.

  They were at a corner of the alcove. The partition projected sharplythere, and, of a sudden, with all his strength, Merry flung himselfbackward, dashing the man on his back against that projecting corner.

  There was a grunt, a groan, and a curse.

  It seemed that, for an instant, the shock had hurt and dazed the man,and, in that instant, Merry wrenched himself free.

  "Now this thing will be somehow more even," he whispered, from hiscrushed and aching throat. He whirled to grapple with the fellow, butagain the slippery rascal dodged him, leaping away.

  Frank followed.

  The man caught up a chair, swung it and struck at Merriwell's head withforce enough to crush Frank's skull.

  Merry could not dodge, but he caught the chair and saved his head,although he was sent reeling backward by the blow.

  Had the fellow followed him swiftly then it is barely possible he mighthave overcome Frank before Merry could steady himself. A moment ofhesitation, however, was taken advantage of by the youth.

  The chair was tossed aside, and Merry darted after the fellow, who wasastounded and dismayed by his persistence.

  Round to the opposite side of the table darted the intruder, and acrossthe table they stared at each other.

  "Well," said Frank, in grim confession, "you are making a right goodfight of it, and I will say that you are very slippery. I haven't beenable to get a hold of you yet, though. You'll come down on the run whenI do."

  The man was standing directly beneath the gas jet which Merry hadlighted by pressing the electric button. Of a sudden he reached up andturned off the gas, plunging the room in darkness. Then, as Frank sprangtoward the jet, something swooped down on him, covering his head andshoulders in a smothering manner!