Dick Merriwell Abroad: or, The Ban of the Terrible Ten

“How much farther to the tavern, driver?” asked Professor Gunn.

“Not hover four mile, sir,” was the answer.

Behind them on the hard road there sounded the clatter of hoofs and rumble of wheels. Looking round, they saw a closed carriage, drawn by two horses, rapidly approaching.

“Some one drives in a great hurry,” said Dick.

The horses were steaming as they whipped past at a favorable place for doing so. The curtains of the carriage were closely drawn, and not a soul save the muffled driver was to be seen.

“Those horses have been pushed right hard,” observed Buckhart. “Wonder who’s inside the old hearse.”

They crossed a stone bridge and followed the winding road on into a still deeper portion of the forest. The sun went down and darkness gathered.

At last a light glimmered cheerfully in the distance and a dog barked.

“That is Robin ’Oods Tavern,” said the driver.

“Glad of it!” exclaimed the professor. “It’s getting cold since sunset. Not quite as bad as it was in Scotland, but too cold for comfort while driving.”

“Why, I allowed it was some hot up round Lochleven in Scotland,” chuckled Buckhart. “We warmed things up one night. Eh, pard?”

“Rather,” agreed Dick.

Amid the massive oaks stood the little inn, with the light shining cheerfully from its windows. Soon they drew up before it, their journey ended for the night.

Outside the inn, with the horses unhitched and removed, stood the same closed carriage that had passed them on the road.

A hostler came to take charge of their horses, and they entered the inn, being greeted by the landlord, a ruddy-cheeked man, named Swinton, who was smoking a rank-smelling pipe. The landlord welcomed them in a hearty, cheerful manner, bidding them come in by the fire and get warm.

“It’s going to be a cold night, gentlemen,” he said.

“Cold, indeed, sir,” agreed the professor; “but your little house looks bright, and warm, and comfortable.”

“So I think you will find it. You will stay to sup with me?”

“We hope you can give us accommodations overnight. Have you two rooms, one with a fire in it?”

“I have just what you want, I believe – two rooms with a door between, and a grate fire in one of them. You may be as comfortable as you please here.”

By this time the professor had learned that it was always best to bargain in advance for accommodations in England, and this he proceeded to do, haggling in a good-natured way with the landlord, who at first asked an exorbitant price.

“We’re not millionaires, my dear sir,” said Zenas. “We’re just plain, ordinary people, traveling through your beautiful country. The pennies count with us.”

“You’re from America, are you not?” asked the innkeeper, seeming greatly surprised at this confession.

“We are, but not all Americans have money to burn, even though the most of them who come abroad wish people to think so.”

Finally the landlord agreed to a price a full third lower than he had originally named, after which, having ushered them into a room with an open coal fire, he went away to prepare their rooms for them.

A servant came and removed the wraps, saying they would be taken to the rooms upstairs. He also took charge of the big hand bag, which contained their nightdresses and such toilet articles as they always carried with them.

After a time the porter came and announced that their rooms were ready for them. At the foot of the stairs a maid with a lighted candle waited to escort them. She was a buxom, red-cheeked country girl.

“Be careful hof of the stairs, sir; they’re very steep sir,” she said to Zenas, giving him a smile that made him brace up wonderfully. “Hi ’ave to climb them hoften henough to know.”

“Er-hum!” coughed the old fellow. “They say climbing stairs is fine exercise – great for the complexion. But you don’t need anything to improve your complexion, my dear – it couldn’t be improved.”

“’Ow kind you hare, sir!” she said, with a smothered laugh.

Dick was behind Brad, and he gave the Texan a pinch that caused him to utter a whoop.

“Ow, goodness!” cried the girl, in alarm.

“Don’t be frightened, my dear – don’t be frightened!” said Zenas quickly. “It’s only the boys.”

“Hit gave me ’art a hawful jump,” said the girl. “One gets frightened terrible in this ’ouse.”

“Get frightened here? Why?”

“’Avent you ’eard, sir?”

“About what?”

“This place is ’aunted, you know.”

“Eh? Hey? Haunted, did you say?”

“Yes, sir; they do say it’s the spirit of Robin ’Ood hisself that come ’ere, sir.”

“This is interesting – decidedly so!” said Zenas. “A haunted inn in the heart of Sherwood Forest! Why, I should think it would drive away custom if such a report got out.”

“Hinstead of that, hit brings people ’ere to see the place, sir. They seem to take great hinterest in ’aunted ’ouses.”

She flung open the door of a room.

“’Ere is your rooms, sirs,” she said. “The fire is warm, and Hi ’ope you will be very comfortable. Is there hany thing I can bring you?”

They entered the first room, in which the fire was burning. It was fairly large and comfortable, with a big English bed, surrounded by curtains.

“Wait a minute, my dear,” urged the professor. Then turning to the boys, he said:

“Here, you youngsters, take that candle on the mantel and inspect your room. The door is open, I see.”

Dick gave Brad a wink and picked up the candle, starting for the adjoining room. The maid had entered the first room and was waiting, candle in hand.

“You may go with Richard, Bradley,” said Zenas, seeing that Buckhart lingered behind.

“All right,” nodded the Texas youth.

As he stepped past the girl he gave a puff that extinguished the candle in her hand. Then he swiftly strode into the adjoining room, closing the door behind him.

Immediately the old professor began to call loudly for Dick and Brad to return.

“Come back here, you young rascals!” he shouted. “What are you up to, you scoundrels? Bring that candle instantly! How dare you do such a thing – how dare you!”

“I’m so frightened!” fluttered the girl, catching hold of Zenas. “’Ave you a match, sir? We might light the candle, sir.”

Dick opened the door and peered back into the room, discovering the girl clinging to the professor.

“Here! here!” he cried reprovingly. “What are you doing, Professor Gunn? You’re a married man. I didn’t think it of you! I didn’t think you would blow out the young lady’s candle and attempt to kiss her in the dark. It’s really scandalous! What would Mrs. Gunn say if she ever heard of this?”

“Oh, goodness! She’d have a fit!” confessed Zenas. “Bring that candle instantly! How in the world did this candle happen to go out?”

“Oh, I think you know how it happened,” laughed Merriwell.

“On my word I don’t!” declared Gunn. “I believe that reprobate Buckhart did it!”

“But he didn’t compel you to attempt to kiss the girl in the dark.”

“Oh, murder! I never touched her! She was frightened. She clung to me for protection.”

“Oh, all right,” said Dick; but his tone and manner seemed to indicate that he knew better and could not be fooled by such an explanation.

Zenas shook his fist at Dick in great excitement.

“If you dare hint that I was trying to kiss her, I’ll – I’ll – I’ll – ”

He seemed unable to find words with which to complete the threat, and so he turned to the maid, anxiously urging her to attest that he had done nothing of the sort.

Behind the professor’s back Dick winked and nodded at her, making signs she understood.

“Why, sir,” she said, falling in with the joke, “Hi don’t hexactly suppose you hactually meant to kiss me, sir; but – ”

“There it is professor – there it is!” cried Dick, while Buckhart laughed aloud. “She confesses that you really did do it, although she tries to shield you by saying it was an accident.”

“She didn’t confess anything of the sort!” palpitated Zenas, actually dancing in his excitement. “You’re twisting her language, you rascal! You’re perverting her meaning! You’re trying to ruin my reputation!”

“If she hadn’t said so with her own lips – the lips you tried to – ”

“Stop it! stop it!” implored Zenas. “If you respect me in the least, I implore you to stop it! If you ever hint that such a thing happened, if you ever breathe a suggestion of it in the presence of my wife, I’ll – ”

“Now, don’t threaten me,” said Dick reproachfully. “You know I’m your friend, and even though I have been saddened to know of your disreputable behavior, I’ll remain silent as the grave concerning it. Even though I may deplore your inclination to get gay with the girls, I’ll bury the black secret in my heart and never breathe a word of it to your lovely, delicate and trusting wife.”

“Lovely! Delicate!” gasped the old pedagogue.

“Don’t say a word against her, sir!” exclaimed Dick, with a pretense of righteous indignation. “She remains at home and permits you to travel abroad for your health, little dreaming that, while she thus sacrifices herself for your sake, you are carrying on scandalously with every pretty girl you meet.”

Zenas threw up his hands in despair, the expression on his face being so laughable that Buckhart with difficulty kept himself from roaring.

“I didn’t dream you could say such things of me, Richard!” groaned the old man.

“And I didn’t dream you would cut up so among the girls. Of course, I’ll keep still about it, and Brad will never say a word, but still it may leak out. It may get into the newspapers. You know there are representatives of the yellow journals of America in London. They may hear of it. It will make a breezy bit of scandal – a juicy morsel – for them. How would this sound in one of their papers: ‘Professor Gunn Gets Gay With the Girls. Giddy Old Chap, Traveling in England, Tickles the Chambermaids – ’”

With a genuine shriek of horror, Professor Gunn dropped on a chair.

“Stop! stop!” he yelled. “You’ll drive me to suicide!”

“But you know it may get into the papers,” Dick went on. “As I said, neither Brad nor myself will say anything about it.”

“Then how can it get out?”

“Why, the girl you tried to kiss may – ”

“Never tried it – never!”

“Well, the girl who says you tried to kiss her – ”

“Who says you did kiss her – by accident,” put in the boy from Texas.

“I stand corrected, and I accept the correction.” said Dick. “The girl who says you did kiss her by accident may happen to speak of it to other tourists. She may mention your name. It’s not unlikely some of those tourists may be newspaper men. If they are not, they may be friends of newspaper men. They may see an opportunity of making a good, spicy item out of it. Oh, there are ways enough for it to get into the American papers.”

“How can I prevent it?” groaned the tortured old fellow.

“Why, you might fix it with the girl,” answered Dick, again giving the maid a significant wink. “She’s a poor girl, but she’s honest and kind-hearted. She wouldn’t like to ruin you, and she’ll keep still – for an inducement.”

“Ow, Hi couldn’t think hof it – ” began the girl.

Thinking she meant that she could not think of keeping still, Zenas sprang to his feet, cold perspiration starting out on his pale face.

“I implore you! I beseech you!” he cried. “I’m an honorable man, and I hold a position of trust and responsibility in America. If this thing gets into the American papers I’m ruined. Here, my dear girl, take this – take it and remain silent – for my sake.”

Eagerly he thrust a pound note into her hand.

“Ow, you hare so kind, sir – so very kind, sir!” she tittered, bobbing him a bow. “Hi’m ownly a poor girl, and Hi thank you for being so hawfully kind to me, sir. If there’s hanything Hi can do for you, sir, while you are ’ere – ”

“You can,” said Zenas solemnly.

“You may depend hon me, sir. What is it?”

“Keep away from this room. Don’t come near it while I remain in the house. If you do these boys will see something further that is improper. Go at once. Every moment you remain adds to my peril. Go!”

“Very well, sir. Hi ’opes you ’ave a pleasant time while ’ere, sir. Hi ’opes you henjoy your supper and your night’s rest, sir. Good night, sir.”

Bobbing a bow to each of them in turn, she smilingly left the room.

CHAPTER XI. – THE SPANIARD AGAIN

“I don’t think you’re really to blame, professor,” said Dick. “Indeed, I have often wondered in the past how you succeeded in warding off the attacks of the fair sex, who are continually besieging you. No one is to blame if he happens to be attractive and fascinating to women.”

The old fellow brightened up a little.

“That’s nonsense, Richard,” he said. “Of course, there was a time when the girls did chase after me more or less, but that’s gone by.”

“You know better, professor. In these days girls are learning to admire men of brains, and talent, and genius. You’ll have to be careful, professor. There’s something about you that fetches them every time.”

Zenas smiled.

“Do you think so?”

“I know it! I want to warn you for your own good. You’ll have to hold them off. If we go to Paris, you’ll have to be on your guard. They’re sure to throw themselves at you. Paris is full of pretty girls, they say, and they’ll keep you ducking. If you were inclined to be frisky, you could have a score of handsome women chasing you.”

“He! he!” laughed Gunn. “That would be embarrassing, but it would be rather exciting.”

He rose to his feet and threw out his chest.

“I don’t know but you are right,” he nodded. “Since crossing the pond I’ve noticed the ladies glancing my way and smiling on me. In London they smiled at me, and in Scotland the Scottish girls were inclined to give me the eye. I used to be quite a chap with ’em, but since getting married I’ve lived retired and kept away from ’em. I’ll have to look out or some of them will be trying to steal me.”

Buckhart turned a laugh into a severe fit of coughing.

“I’m afraid I’ve taken cold,” he barked.

By this time Dick had Professor Gunn thinking himself really a very captivating old chap with the ladies, and he began to tell how he had found it necessary to dodge them all his life.

“Stop it, pard!” whispered the boy from Texas. “If you don’t let up I’ll sure give myself away to him.”

Thus adjured, Merriwell finally quit egging Zenas on, but he improved an opportunity to slip out of the room and leave the professor relating some of his experiences to Buckhart.

Dick descended to the lower rooms of the inn, entering the one to which they had first been ushered by the landlord.

A man in black clothes was half sitting, half reclining in a big easy-chair that was drawn up before before the fire. Evidently he had been perusing a newspaper, over which, made drowsy by the warmth, he had fallen asleep. The paper was spread over his face.

At one corner of the glowing open grate was another chair, and Dick sat down in this.

“A cool night, sir,” he observed, by way of being sociable.

The man did not stir. Evidently he was quite sound asleep.

Dick took from his pocket a tourist’s map and began examining it. The old professor had stated that in a few days they would leave England for warmer countries to the south, but their exact route had not yet been decided on.

For ten minutes or more Dick studied the map closely, becoming quite absorbed in it. At last, although he had not heard a sound or observed a movement on the part of his companion, he was led to glance up quickly, feeling himself attracted by something.

The man in the easy-chair had permitted the newspaper to slip down just enough for him to peer over the upper edge of it.

Merriwell found himself looking straight into a pair of dark, magnetic eyes, which were fixed on him with a steady, intent gaze. As those eyes met Dick’s they did not waver or blink in the least, and thus the two sat perfectly still, Dick holding the map and having his head partly lifted, gazing at each other unwaveringly and in stony silence.

Almost instantly Dick knew he had seen those eyes before. There was something familiar about them. They gave the boy at first a queer, uncanny sensation, and something like a chill, followed by a tingling flush of heat, passed over him.

A sense of danger came to Dick Merriwell. He seemed to feel the influence of a strange, subtle power. Directly he realized that this unknown power emanated from those piercing dark eyes, and it seemed that in his ear his guardian genius whispered an anxious warning.

Immediately the boy roused himself and brought his own firm will to the task of combating the influence whose touch he had so distinctly felt. Summoning his spirit of resistance to the contest, he continued to watch the eyes revealed above the edge of the newspaper.

Neither man nor boy moved a muscle. In dead silence they remained thus, watching each other like panthers about to spring.

The fire glowed warmly on the hearth and a great clock that stood in one corner of the room ticked solemnly and regularly. Outside the wind rose in a great gust and swept with rushing sound through the branches of the trees. Ghostly hands, like those of restless spirits seeking admission from the darkness and the cold, rapped at the casement of a window.

Still the unknown man and the American lad sat motionless, gazing into each other’s eyes.

The unvaried ticking of the great clock began to sound loud as hammer strokes.

Gradually Dick realized that he was obtaining the mastery. He had met and resisted the unknown influence the other was bringing to bear upon him, and his determination was conquering the subtle power of those magnetic eyes.

He called into action all the force of will he could command, knowing that he was defeating the object of the silent man before the fire.

Finally the man uttered a low exclamation of disappointment and anger, and the newspaper fell rustlingly from his face.

Dick sat face to face with Miguel Bunol!

“Curses on you!” hissed the Spanish youth. “Had you not looked up so soon I would have succeeded.”

“Never!” retorted Dick. “It is not in you, Bunol, to conquer a Merriwell.”

“We shall see.”

“I should think you would know it by this time. What are you doing here?”

“That is my business.”

“In which I am somewhat interested. How dare you show your face again?”

“Dare?” laughed the young Spaniard, harshly. “Did you think you could frighten me? Fool not yourself by such a fancy. I have a right to go where I choose, have I not?”

“You might find it unpleasant if you were to appear in the vicinity of Kinross, Scotland, about now. Of course you have a right to go there, if you choose, but you would be arrested if you did so.”

“We are not in Scotland, Merriwell. This is England and the heart of Sherwood Forest.”

“But the law is just as strong here as in Kinross. If Dunbar Budthorne were here he would – ”

Bunol snapped his fingers contemptuously.

“He would do nothing at all. Had he sat before me, were he sitting thus now, I’d have him powerless to disobey my command – I’d have him subject to my every wish. I am his master, and he knows it.”

“Still at Lochleven you did not succeed in forcing him into your dastardly scheme – you did not compel him to aid you in your plot to marry his sister.”

“But for you, Merriwell, I should have succeeded. You ruined my plot. That very night, as I fled in a boat across the bleak bosom of the lake, I swore to turn my attention to you, and put you beyond the possibility of baffling me again. Now you know why I am here. What will you do about it?”

The Spaniard asked the question mockingly. He was flinging defiance in the teeth of the young American.

“You have selected a big task, Mig Bunol.”

“But I have sworn to succeed.”

“You will fail utterly and miserably.”

Bunol lifted one hand to caress the thin, black mustache upon his lip.

“That is what you believe,” he said; “but I know I shall not fail. At Fardale I hated you, but I forgot you after I left the school. Never again would I have given you a thought had you not crossed my path in London. You crossed it at a most unfortunate time for me, as then I was on the very verge of accomplishing my great object.”

“And that object was to ruin Dunbar Budthorne and to make his beautiful sister your wife.”

“I love her!”

“You love her! Never! You love nothing but your own selfish, villainous self, Bunol. You were interested in her, and fascinated by her, because of her beauty; but had she been a poor girl you would not have dreamed for a moment of marrying her.”

“How wise you are!” sneered Miguel, shrugging his shoulders. “Even if that is so, what does it prove?”

“It proves that you are a fortune hunter of the lowest and most contemptible sort.”

“Is it such a crime to be a fortune hunter, as you call it? What are the ruined and penniless noblemen of Europe who seek marriage with American heiresses?”

“You are not even in the class of those men, for, though they may be cads, and snobs, and weaklings, and utterly lacking in manly qualities, few of them are downright scoundrels and desperadoes. At least, they have titles to give in return for the wealth their rich wives will bring them; but you have nothing to give.”

“Yah!” snarled the Spaniard, showing his white, gleaming teeth. “You say things that sting, but some day your tongue will be silent with death!”

“Your threats do not disturb me in the least, Bunol, for I am confident that I shall live to see you hanged, as you justly deserve to be. Bunol, your power is broken and your great scheme has come to naught. You may as well seek other victims, for never again will your fingers handle a dollar of Budthorne’s money.”

With a sneer on his dark face, the Spanish youth had listened to Merriwell’s words.

“It is a great wonder you think yourself!” he cried. “You think you have defeated me. How little you know me, boy! Did you imagine you had thrown me off the track and would see me no more while abroad? I am here. From Edinburgh you I followed to Glasgow, from Glasgow to Dublin, from Dublin to Manchester, Sheffield and here. I chose this spot to appear to you again and to let you know I am on your track. All this time you have known nothing of it, and you have thought me frightened by what happened in Scotland. While you remained in Scotland I did not care to appear, as I knew you would try to have me arrested.

“In Dublin there was no reason why I should make myself known, nor yet in Manchester or Sheffield. Here we are far from any town and in the heart of a forest. True, your friends are within call of your voice if you lift it; but I, too, have friends ready to spring in on us at a signal. My friends are all armed, and it is short work they would make of two boys and a cowardly, withered old man. Ha! ha! Call, if you like! I am willing; I am ready. Utter a shout, and by the time your friends get down to this room you will be lying on this hearth in your blood.”

“Are you trying to frighten me with such talk, Mig Bunol? You should know by this time that I am not easily frightened. You say you have followed me. That is good. While you were doing so Dunbar Budthorne and his sister were getting far beyond your reach. You have followed me in order to be near when they joined us again. That is it!”

Dick laughed triumphantly, for he had stated the reason why Bunol had so persistently dogged him about, and he felt that the fellow had been completely baffled.

Dick’s laughter caused Bunol to turn pale with rage. He saw that the young American regarded him with positive contempt. In Dick he had not aroused an atom of fear – nothing but aversion, scorn and contempt.

“You cannot fool me!” he snarled. “The Budthornes are not very far away. If you live, you will meet them soon. I shall be there.”

“Will you?”

“Yes! I know your cowboy friend has become deeply interested in Nadia, but – bah! – what is he? I can dispose of him so.” Bunol gave a careless flirt of his hand.

“It’s plain enough you do not know the kind of stuff that Brad Buckhart is made of.”

“He is nothing but a blustering braggart.”

“He’s a fighter, every inch of him; fearless as a lion. It was his bullet that pierced the shoulder of Rob MacLane, the outlaw, on the wall of Lochleven Castle, and sent him tumbling to the ground, where his career ended with a broken neck, greatly to the relief of all honest people.”