Frank Merriwell's Champions: or, All in the Game

This did not suit Rolf Harlow at all, but he saw it was useless to try to urge the oarsmen on. They were inclined to obey Spencer.

“All right!” he grated; “listen to their lies, if you like. You’ll be disgusted when you hear what they have to say.”

Spencer eyed Harlow closely, wondering why he should be so eager to keep the strangers from speaking. He seemed to fear something that he knew would be said.

“As for lies,” said Frank, “if I am not mistaken, I fancy you will hear a few from this fine gentleman who has been coaching you, but who is a traitor to you at the same time.”

“A traitor!” cried Spencer. “Be careful! Mr. Harlow is a gentleman and a student of Yale College.”

“A what?” shouted Diamond.

“A what?” echoed Merriwell. “Why, the nearest this fellow ever came to the inside of Yale College was Jackson’s poker joint in New Haven. If he has represented himself as a student of Yale, it shows he began by lying to you right off the reel. This fellow was expelled from Harvard, and was drummed out of New Haven for cheating at cards! That’s the kind of a bird he is!”

CHAPTER XII – HARLOW’S DISCOMFITURE

Something like a grating imprecation escaped Harlow’s lips, and it seemed that he would leap for Frank’s throat.

But the revolver was still in Merriwell’s hand, and, somehow, its muzzle wandered around, and stopped when it covered Rolf.

The accused lad literally gnashed his teeth.

The others were aghast for a moment, and then Kent Spencer seriously said:

“Look here, sir, you will have to prove that charge. Otherwise, you will find you have made a big mistake in accusing a gentleman of being a blackguard.”

“I can prove it without a struggle,” assured Frank.

“How?”

“In several ways. To begin with, I am a student at Yale myself. It was in New Haven I first met this crook. I exposed him when he was bleeding some of my friends by playing poker with them and using marked cards.”

“A lie!” Harlow almost screamed; “a vile lie!”

“It is the truth,” asserted Jack Diamond. “I was in that game. Harlow beat me, and he would have beaten me worse but for Mr. Merriwell.”

“Mr. Who?” Spencer shouted.

“Merriwell.”

“Who is Mr. Merriwell?”

“That is Mr. Merriwell right there,” said Jack, nodding toward Frank.

“Frank Merriwell – Frank Merriwell, the ball player and all-around athlete?” questioned Spencer, excitedly.

“That’s who he is,” assured the Virginian.

“Then Mr. Harlow should be very well acquainted with him,” said the stroke of the crew, “for he has said that Frank Merriwell is his particular friend.”

“Yes,” spoke up another, “he referred us to Frank Merriwell when he applied for the position to coach our crew.”

“My eyes! what a crust!” shouted Diamond. “I never heard of such cheek! He referred you to Merry because he thought you could not reach him by letter as he knew Merry was somewhere out West on a bicycle tour.”

“All of us had heard of Mr. Merriwell,” said Spencer. “We saw his name in the papers often. A sporting magazine spoke of him as the destined leader in baseball and football at Yale. Besides that, I know a person who is personally acquainted with him. Naturally, when Mr. Harlow declared that Frank Merriwell was a particular friend of his we were inclined to regard him with favor, and I am greatly astonished to discover that he has been deceiving us.”

Harlow looked disgusted.

“I presume you are ready to take the word of these strangers against me!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think that of you, but – ”

“If this is Frank Merriwell, why shouldn’t we take his word?”

“How do you know he is Frank Merriwell?” demanded Rolf.

“I can prove that with ease,” smiled Frank, thrusting his hand into his pocket and pulling forth some letters. “Here is some of my correspondence, here is my card, and here is my name and address on this key check. If you want further proof, gentlemen, I can show you my name marked upon my clothes.”

“That is quite enough,” assured Spencer. “We are satisfied that you are what you represent yourself to be. And now will you be good enough to tell us the meaning of this struggle here on the bank?”

“With pleasure,” bowed Frank. “My friend here, Jack Diamond, a Virginian born and bred, asked me to leave the road over yonder and come here, where he could show me a pretty view of the Potomac. We locked our bicycles to a tree, where it was not likely they would be seen, and came this way. As we approached, we saw this chap in flannels standing on the bank and shouting his orders to your crew. Curiosity brought us nearer, and then we heard him talking with another chap who was hidden in the bushes where he could watch your work. From what we overheard – ”

It was getting too hot for Harlow, and he interrupted Frank.

“It is plain to me,” he cried, “that you are ready to take the word of a stranger instead of mine, and that is too much for me to stand. That being the case, I’ll leave you with your new friends.”

He was about to hurry from the spot, but Frank checked him.

“Hold on, Harlow,” he said, suavely. “I have your revolver, you know.”

“Then give it to me!”

“Come take it.”

Although thus invited, Rolf did not hasten to obey, for the muzzle of the weapon was looking straight at him.

“I thought you would wait a while,” nodded Frank. “You shall have the gun directly.”

Then he continued his story:

“From what we overheard, we learned that your coach and the spy in the bushes were in league with each other. Evidently, the spy belongs to a rival crew, and he was watching to get points from your work.”

Exclamations of anger broke from the rowers, and it was plain they were greatly incensed.

Harlow fidgeted uneasily. A short time before, he had been very popular among these fellows, but now they regarded him with distrust and positive contempt.

All through Frank Merriwell! How he hated Merriwell!

“It was one of the A. A. C. fellows!” cried a red-headed fellow, whose name was Fred Dobbs. “I thought I recognized him from the river.”

It was plain that Spencer was loath to believe such a thing about any person.

“Why should Mr. Harlow betray us?” he asked, in an undecided way.

“That’s it!” cried Rolf, catching at this as a drowning person might catch at a floating chip. “Why should I do such a thing?”

“He’ll do anything for money!” scornfully exclaimed Jack Diamond.

“And the Alexandria fellows have money to burn,” came from Fred Dobbs. “They are furious because we won the championship of the Potomac last year, and they mean to win it back this year by fair means or foul. I can understand why they should buy up our coach.”

“But Harlow has seemed to work for our interest thus far,” said another. “Surely we have improved under his coaching.”

“If you hadn’t you would not have confidence in him as a coach, would you?” asked Jack.

“No, of course not.”

“Well, that’s just where he has been playing his card shrewdly. He wanted you to have enough confidence so you would make up your crew at the last minute just as he directed. That would settle it.”

Harlow saw the case had gone against him.

“Settle it to suit yourselves!” he cried. “This is the first time ever I was treated like this! I fancied they raised gentlemen down here in Virginia!”

“And so they do!” came sternly from Kent Spencer; “but we have found they are not always all gentlemen who come down here from the North. Mr. Harlow, you shall be given a fair show. A meeting of the Blue Cove Academy Athletic Club shall be called, and the charges against you shall be impartially investigated. If they are proven, we shall publicly proclaim you a scoundrel. But you will be given a good opportunity to disprove them. You can ask for nothing more.”

Rolf braced up.

“I do not ask for anything more,” he declared. “I will be on hand at the meeting, and I will prove that I have been defamed and lied about by these fellows. I did think Frank Merriwell was my friend; but he is never a friend to a rival in athletics and sports, so he has turned against me, and is trying to down me.”

This came near being too much for Jack Diamond to stand. Knowing Frank as he did, and thinking how generous Merriwell always was in dealing with a rival, Jack felt like slapping Rolf across the mouth.

Frank seemed to divine the feelings and thoughts of his comrade, for he caught Jack’s arm, saying, swiftly but quietly:

“Never mind that, my boy. If it’s a lie, these fellows will find it out in time, and it will harm nobody but the one who told it.”

Jack growled a bit, but he always obeyed Frank, so Rolf escaped.

“Here, Mr. Harlow,” said Merriwell, reversing the revolver and handing it to its owner, “here is the gun you pulled on me. I have no further use for it.”

Sourly, the exposed rascal accepted the weapon, and put it in his pocket. Then he said:

“I am going now, and I leave you fellows to listen to the lies these chaps may tell about me. I don’t care! They don’t cut any ice. I’ll be on hand at the investigation, and I’ll show you what monumental liars they both are.”

Then he walked away, not a hand being lifted to stop him.

“Mr. Merriwell,” said Kent Spencer, when Rolf had vanished, “I am pleased to meet you, but sorry that the meeting should be under such unpleasant circumstances.”

“Don’t mention it,” smiled Frank. “I am glad to be of service to you in helping expose a rascal like Harlow.”

“If the charges against Harlow stand, we’ll need a new coach,” quickly put in Fred Dobbs.

“That’s right,” nodded Spencer; “and I don’t know where we will get one, unless we can induce Mr. Merriwell to serve us.”

“He’ll make a dandy for you!” cried Diamond. “The first year he was in Yale he coached the freshmen so that we beat the sophomores without a struggle, and we had the poorer boat, too. Oh, Frank can put you in shape all right.”

“We may not need a coach,” said a slender chap by the name of Bob Dean. “If Alexandria has resorted to such dirty tricks as putting spies on us and bribing our coach, I am for refusing to row with them.”

“And I!”

“Same here!”

“I’m another!”

The boys of Blue Cove Academy were aroused.

“Easy, fellows,” advised Spencer. “We must row with Alexandria. If not, with whom can we row?”

“Bristol Academy,” suggested one.

Kent shook his head.

“It won’t do,” he declared. “Bristol is not in our class. And everybody would say we were afraid to meet Alexandria. If there was another crew – ”

Diamond struck Frank a slap on the shoulder.

“By Jove, Merry!” he cried; “we can turn out a crew ourselves. If we can get into this race, why not do so? Blue Cove Academy against the Yale Combine. That should be a better race than the other. It would attract more attention.”

The Blue Cove boys were interested immediately.

“What do you mean?” asked Bob Dean. “How could you row against us? Where is your crew?”

“The rest of them are stopping at a bicycle repair shop near Brooke,” Jack explained. “Merry and I rode out by ourselves for a spin, and that is how we happened to be here. Say, fellows, this is a great idea! Let us into this race, anyway. We are on a regular athletic tour, and have taken part in every event we could get into since leaving San Francisco. We’ve left a trail of glory all the way from California to Virginia.”

The Blue Cove boys looked at each other doubtingly. Bob Dean was the only one who seemed to snap at the scheme with eagerness.

“Let’s do it, fellows!” he cried. “Let’s leave Alexandria out and race with the Yale crowd!”

“I do not think we can leave Alexandria out now,” said Spencer, gravely. “We have agreed to meet them, and the time is set.”

“But think of the sneaking trick they have played on us! That ought to be enough to queer them.”

“It ought to, but we can’t be hasty in this matter. We’ll consider it at the special meeting that will be called to investigate the charges against Harlow. Mr. Merriwell, you and your friend must be present at that meeting.”

“If necessary, we’ll be there.”

“And if we were to decide to let you into the race, have you a boat?”

“If you decide to let us in, we’ll soon provide ourselves with a boat,” declared Frank.

“Anyway, you must come to Blue Cove Academy – all of you. The boys will make you welcome. Will you come?”

“Where is the academy?”

“Up the river about four miles.”

“Yes, we will come.”

“Good!” shouted the oarsmen. “We’ll give you a jolly reception.”

Then Kent Spencer drew Frank aside.

“Mr. Merriwell,” he said, “my knowledge of you has not been obtained entirely from the papers.”

“Indeed?” smiled Frank, lifting his eyebrows.

“No; I have heard much of you from a personal friend and admirer who is stopping at the Cove.”

“That is pleasant news. I shall be pleased to meet him. I am always glad to meet my friends. Is it a Yale man?”

“No,” said Kent, “it is not a Yale man. It is some one you have not seen in a long time. There is a little hotel down at the Cove, and you must bring your party there. This friend of yours is stopping at the cottage of a retired sea captain who lives at the Cove. My sister is also stopping at the same place.”

In vain Frank urged Spencer to tell the name of the mysterious person of whom he spoke. He declared that it was some one Merriwell would be delighted to see, and that was all Frank could get out of him.

“Well,” laughed Merry, “you have aroused my curiosity so that I am going down to Blue Cove immediately. I shall send Jack back to Brooke for the rest of the fellows, but I shall continue on to Blue Cove.”

This pleased Spencer.

“Do it!” he cried. “You won’t be sorry.”

Then Frank went back and told Jack of his decision.

“I will go on to Blue Cove and make arrangements for our party at the hotel,” he said, “while you are to go back for the fellows.”

Jack was not quite pleased with the idea of wheeling back to the others all alone, but he did not murmur much.

CHAPTER XIII – AGAINST ODDS

A short time later, the Blue Cove boys were pulling up the river in their boat, while Diamond was riding in one direction and Merriwell in another.

Frank arrived at the Cove ahead of the crew. He found a pretty little spot, with a hotel set back on an elevation from the water, while the academy was surrounded by well-kept grounds and tall trees.

It was the vacation season at the academy, but two of the professors lived in the building the year around, and by the rule of the institution, the annual boat race on the Potomac was not allowed during the spring term. For some years it had been a midsummer event, a number of students remaining at the academy and getting into trim after the spring term was over.

As the Cove was something of a summer resort, where there were often many pretty girls, this was a pleasure instead of a hardship, and the rivalry for the crew was intense.

Often from six to a dozen students besides the crew remained at Blue Cove during the summer, and at the time of the race every student who could get there was on hand.

There were nearly a dozen cottages at the Cove, and Frank’s first view of the place brought a cry of delight from his lips.

Amid the trees, hammocks were swung, and in them could be seen several girls in light dresses, idly perusing paper-covered novels or chatting with the young fellows who lingered near.

There were two large tennis courts, and upon one of these, despite the warm sun, a party of four, two fellows and two girls, were engaged in a most exciting game.

Above the Blue Cove Academy boathouse flew a beautiful flag, and several pleasure boats lay beside a float, or were moored at a distance from the shore.

“Great stuff!” exclaimed Frank, with satisfaction. “And to think we might have missed this place but for the little adventure down the river. We won’t do a thing here but have sport!”

Straight to the hotel he rode, attracting some attention. Soon he had disposed of his wheel, and made arrangements for the accommodation of his party, fortunately being on hand in time to take some rooms left vacant by some visitors who had departed that morning.

Having settled this matter, Frank went out to look for Kent Spencer and the crew. He found they were not yet in sight, and he was devoured by curiosity to learn without delay what friend of his was stopping at the Cove.

Being thus impatient, Frank made inquiries about a retired sea captain who lived in the neighborhood.

He was told that an old sea captain by the name of Tobias Barnaby lived about half a mile away. Barnaby was said to be queer, having considerable money, but being rather close-fisted and mean.

Frank was shown a path that led over a rise and through some timber to Barnaby’s home, and he immediately set off in that direction.

Merry’s curiosity seemed to increase as he hurried along the path. What friend of his could be stopping with this queer old sea captain? It was some one who had spoken well of him to Kent Spencer.

The timber through which the path passed was rather thick, and Frank did not obtain a sight of the old sailor’s home till he came out suddenly and saw the wood-colored roof of the old house showing amid the trees in a little hollow at his feet.

“Well, that’s a cozy nest!” he muttered, as he paused to admire the picture; “and the last place in the world where I should expect to find any one who knows me.”

At that moment he was startled by a sound that came from the midst of the trees near the back of the house.

“Go away and let me alone!” sounded the voice of a girl. “If you don’t – Help! he-e-e-lp!”

The cry for help was uttered in a smothered, frightened manner, and it stirred Frank Merriwell’s blood from his crown to his toes.

“I think I am needed down there!” he muttered.

With that, he went leaping down the steep path at breakneck speed.

“Stop your screaming!” roughly commanded a voice. “I won’t hurt you, you little fool! But I am going to kiss you, and you can’t stop me, for I know old Barnaby is away. I saw him row off in his boat.”

“Help – help! Kate!” cried the appealing voice of the girl from the midst of the trees back of the old house.

These voices served to guide Frank. He left the path and rushed toward the spot from whence the frightened appeal came, his feet making very little noise on the grass.

In a moment he came upon a spectacle that fired his heart with the greatest rage.

A girl with golden hair was struggling in the arms of a young fellow, who was doing his best to hold her while he pressed a kiss upon her unwilling lips.

And that young fellow was Rolf Harlow!

Frank recognized his enemy at a glance, and the sight of the fellow added to the consuming fury burning in his breast.

By brute strength, Harlow overcame the girl, and, as he held her helpless in his arms, he laughed triumphantly, crying:

“What’s the use to make so much fuss! I won’t hurt you. I was stuck on you the first time I saw you, my little peach, and I made a bet that I’d kiss you within two days. I must do the job now, or lose my bet.”

“Then you will lose your bet!”

Rolf heard the words, but he had no time to turn and meet Frank, who was right upon him.

In a moment, Frank had torn the girl from Harlow’s arms, and planted a hammer-like blow under the fellow’s ear.

Merry’s knuckles cracked on the neck of the young ruffian, and Harlow went down as if he had been struck by a club.

With the girl on his arm, his fist clinched, Frank stood over Rolf, ready to give him another if he tried to get up.

But Harlow lay gasping and quivering on the ground, knocked out for the moment.

The girl, who was almost swooning, slipped her soft arm about Frank’s neck, and then, to his astonishment, he heard her whisper:

“Frank! Frank! is it you – can it be?”

Then he looked at her, and, to his unbounded astonishment and joy, he saw resting against his shoulder the sweet, flower-like face of Elsie Bellwood.

Was he dreaming? For a moment it seemed that he must be. He doubted the evidence of his eyes.

Was this Elsie, his old-time girl, of whom he had thought so often and so tenderly – Elsie, of whom he had dreamed, and whom he longed to see – Elsie, blue-eyed, golden-haired, trusting and true!

How his heart leaped and fluttered! How the love-light leaped into his eyes! How his stern face softened!

It was Elsie – dear little Elsie – the old sea captain’s daughter, and, if possible, she was sweeter, prettier, more attractive than when last he had seen her.

She was pale when he first looked at her, but as she saw the joyous light of recognition in his eyes, the warm color stole into her cheeks, and she gasped with a delight that was almost childish.

“It is!” she panted; “it is Frank – my Frank!”

He drew her close to him, forgetting the scoundrel he had knocked down. Both his arms were about her, and for the moment the joy of his heart was too deep for words.

She lay in his strong arms, laughing, almost crying, half hysterical, wholly happy. From the terror and despair of a few moments before to relief and joy of the present was so great a revulsion of emotions that she felt herself incapable of any movement or act.

It was the same noble fellow she knew so well, only it seemed that he was handsomer and nobler in appearance than ever before. He was older, and there was more than a hint of dawning manhood in his face.

For the time, wrapped about with the unbounded delight of their unexpected meeting, they were utterly oblivious to their surroundings. They did not see Rolf Harlow struggle to a sitting posture, rubbing the spot where Frank’s fist had been planted. They did not see him glaring at Merriwell with deadly hate, while he felt to make sure that his revolver was where his hand could find it quickly.

Harlow arose quietly to his feet, assuming a crouching posture, ready to leap upon Frank, whose back was toward him.

At that instant, a handsome, black-eyed girl came running around the corner of the house, closely followed by another lad, the latter being the spy Merriwell and Diamond had detected in the bushes farther down the river.

A cry from the lips of the girl warned Frank, and caused him to whirl quickly about. As he did this, Harlow leaped and struck out with all his strength.

Frank was able to dodge slightly and avoid the full force of the blow. However, he did not escape it entirely, and it staggered him. He released his hold upon Elsie immediately, for Harlow was closely following up the attack, and Merriwell saw he was in for a fight with the furious young scoundrel.

That would have not alarmed Frank, but Harlow called to the other lad:

“Here, Radford, jump in here and help me thump the stuffing out of him! He’s alone! It’s the chap who caught you down the river, and he just hit me a thump when I wasn’t looking. Come on!”

“I’m with you!” shouted Radford. “We’ll lick him till he can’t stand! This is our chance to get square!”

He hastened to join Harlow in the attack upon Frank.

Merriwell laughed. It was his old, dangerous laugh, which came from his lips when he was most aroused in time of peril.

“Come, on!” he invited, promptly. “Sail right in and lick me! I’ll watch and see how you do it! The way I feel now, it would take four or five more such chaps as you to do that little job! There is one for you, Radford!”

Harlow had struck at Frank. Merry dodged under his arm, came up behind him, and struck Radford a stinging blow before Rolf could turn about.

Then a furious struggle began, while the two girls, clasped in each other’s arms, looked on in terror, fearing the dauntless fellow who was battling against such odds would be severely punished.

“Who is he, Elsie?” gasped the other girl. “Isn’t he brave! Isn’t he smart! Oh, I never saw a fellow who could fight like that! I do admire a fellow who can fight!”

“It’s terrible!” whispered timid little Elsie, her hands clasped in distress. “A fight always terrifies me! But they can’t whip him!” she declared, with the utmost confidence. “I know they can’t!”

“Who is he? You must know him, and you have not told me who he is.”

“That is Frank Merriwell, of whom I have told you so much, Kate,” said Elsie, proudly. “He is the bravest fellow in the whole world!”