Frank Merriwell's Backers: or, The Pride of His Friends

When Frank asked to see the woman he was told that the doctor attending her had said no one was to see her without his permission.

"Then I must see that doctor in a hurry," Merry declared. "Where can I find him?"

He was directed and hastened to the home of the doctor, who proved to be a red-faced, pompous little fellow.

"Impossible to see the lady," declared the doctor. "She has heart trouble, and it might prove fatal. I cannot permit it."

"See here, doctor," said Frank, "I have ridden a right good distance to see her, having heard of the disappearance of her daughter June. I have come to see what I can do about tracing the missing girl and restoring her to her mother. To start the work right, I should have an interview with the lady."

"Hum! hum!" coughed the doctor. "I don't know about it." He shook his head, but Merriwell caught his eye and continued to talk earnestly until the man gradually ceased his opposition.

"I'm afraid it's not just the wisest thing," he said. "But still it is anxiety over her daughter that has brought her to this pitiful condition. If you can do anything to relieve that anxiety, it may be better than medicine. But you must take care not to excite her more than possible."

This Frank readily promised, and they set out for the hotel.

Having ascended to the rooms occupied by Mrs. Arlington and those she had brought with her, the doctor entered first, being admitted by the faithful colored maid. In a few moments he came out and said:

"I forgot to ask your name, but Mrs. Arlington says she will see you. Come in."

Frank followed the doctor into the room.

Mrs. Arlington, partly dressed, was reclining on a couch, propped up amid cushions. She was very pale and showed signs of great worriment and grief.

The moment her eyes rested on Frank, who came forward, hat in hand, she gave a great cry and started up. The doctor hurried to her side, cautioning her against becoming excited, but she appeared to heed him not in the least.

"You?" she cried, pointing at Frank. "You have dared to come here?"

Merry bowed.

"I know of no reason why I should not come here," he said. "I have heard of your misfortune, and – "

"Wretch!" the woman panted, glaring at him. "How dare you! I'll have you arrested at once!"

Frank was surprised by this reception, but he kept his composure, although he was struck by a thought that the woman must be mad.

"Why should you have me arrested?" he asked. "For defending my property? I scarcely think you will do that, madam!"

"You – you scoundrel!" panted Mrs. Arlington, pointing at him. "Where is my daughter? You shall never leave this place until you restore her to me!"

This did stagger Merry somewhat.

"Mrs. Arlington," he said, "I have come to offer my services in searching for your daughter. If I can be of any assistance – "

"You – you lured her away!" declared the shaking woman. "You were seen talking with her on the street. Is this the way you defend your property? I know your game! You mean to make me promise to drop the battle against you, on which condition you will restore June to me! I have been told that you would try that trick! But I am ready for you, and you shall be arrested immediately. You have walked into the trap!"

"My dear woman," said Merry quietly, "you never were more mistaken in all your life. I know absolutely nothing of the whereabouts of your daughter; but I fancied you might be able to tell me something that would serve as a clue in the search for her."

"Don't tell me that! I have sense enough to know you would not offer to help me find her!"

Startled by the sound of Mrs. Arlington's excited voice, Eliot Dodge, her agent, who was in an adjoining room, now entered quickly. When he saw Merriwell he stopped short.

Frank had met Dodge once in Denver, at which time the man with the blue nose had made him an offer in behalf of the mining syndicate for the San Pablo and Queen Mystery Mines, an offer that Merry had scornfully declined. Now Frank recognized the crafty fox of a lawyer at once.

"So you are here, Dodge?" he said. "And I fancy you are behind some of the doings that have been going on in this region of late."

Dodge puckered up his mouth and tried to look at the young man with something like contempt, although the effort was a failure.

"Yes, I am here," he said, in his raspy voice; "and I fancy it is a pretty good thing for Mrs. Arlington that I am. I have been able to show her the inwardness of this last move of yours."

"Then you are the one who has filled her mind with the idea that I know something of the whereabouts of Miss Arlington? Well, Dodge, I know you are not a fool, and, therefore, I must conclude at once that you have some rascally reason for giving her such an impression. Be careful, sir, that you do not make a false step! In this part of the country it is very dangerous. Down here men are sometimes lynched for rascality."

"Don't you dare threaten me!" fumed Dodge, shaking his fist at Frank. "There is a warrant out for your arrest, and you'll find that the end of your career is pretty near."

Frank smiled derisively.

"You remind me of a snapping cur, Dodge," he observed; then he turned from the man, as if not deigning to waste further words on him. "Mrs. Arlington," he said earnestly, "I assure you on my honor that I have come to you with the most friendly intentions. I assure you that I have ridden more than one hundred miles for the purpose of offering my services in the search for your daughter. You may not believe me, but it is the simple truth. You have received me in a manner most disheartening; but I understand that your nervous condition must be the excuse.

"I am not your enemy. I do not wish to fight you. I am fighting the Consolidated Mining Association of America. I would not like to think that I have a woman among my enemies, who have hired murderers and ruffians to try to seize my property! Such a thought is most distasteful to me. I have had the pleasure of meeting your daughter, and I found her a most charming girl. I was interested in her. When I learned that she had disappeared I lost not a moment in gathering a few friends and starting for this place. We have covered the ground as fast as possible, taking the heat into consideration. If any one has told you that I am even remotely connected with the disappearance of Miss June that person has lied to you and deceived you. If you will give me a little aid, I shall exert myself to the utmost to restore June to your arms. That is all I have to say."

She heard him through with impatience. Frank saw before he had finished that her mind was set and that he had wasted his breath.

"Like your brother," said the woman passionately, "you are a scoundrel! Like him, you assume the airs of a gentleman. I know your tricks, and I am not deceived. You have been told that there is a warrant out for your arrest. It is true – and here is the officer to serve it!"

Behind Merry there was a heavy step. He turned and found himself face to face with a plain, quiet-looking man, who promptly said:

"Are you Frank Merriwell?"

"I am."

"Then let me tell you that I am Ben File, city marshal of Holbrook, and you are my prisoner! If you try to pull a gun, I'll shoot you in your tracks!"

Frank showed his nerve then. He did not even change color, although the arrest had fallen upon him so suddenly.

"Your words are plain enough, sir," he said. "There is no reason why I should provoke you into shooting me, as I have nothing to fear from arrest."

"I have been led to understand that you are a very dangerous character," said File, looking Merry over in some surprise. "You do not seem so at first glance."

Frank smiled a bit.

"I assure you I am not in the least dangerous," he said. "I surrender without the least resistance."

Eliot Dodge stood in the background, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

"Mr. Dodge," said the city marshal, "will you be good enough to relieve this young man of his weapons."

"Eh?" said Dodge nervously. "I – I – yes, sir."

He came forward and took Frank's revolvers, handling them gingerly, as if fearing they would explode in his hands. He passed them over to File, who afterward searched Merry himself.

In spite of Frank's coolness, he was indignant over the outrage.

Mrs. Arlington astonished the doctor by seeming stronger and better than she had been since it was known that June had disappeared.

"Now I have you!" she said exultantly. "If you do not tell me at once where my daughter may be found it will go still harder with you."

Merry gave her a look of pity.

"Madam," he said, "I fear that you are not in your right senses. Your action in coming to this part of the country and bringing your daughter here, where you have had dealings with ruffians, confirms me in this belief. I cannot believe you would do such things if perfectly sane."

"You insult me!" she exclaimed, tossing her head. "But you shall pay dearly for your insults! The law will punish you!"

"And are you to stand clear of the law – you, who have incited ruffians to attack me and my property? I am well aware that law and justice may frequently be two different things; but I fancy it will be to your discomfort to have the whole truth come out. I know a ruffian called Cimarron Bill fired at me from the window of this very room. How came he here unless by your permission? And were you in partnership with a man of his character in an attempted murder?"

Frank's fearless words struck home, and the woman turned pale, in spite of herself.

"Oh, doctor!" she said, sinking back on the couch.

The astonished physician, who had remained dumb and staring through the most of this scene, now cried to Frank:

"See what you have done! See what you have done!"

"She brought it on herself," retorted Merry, turning away, his heart hardened toward the woman. "I have ridden a hundred miles to do everything in my power to find her daughter and restore her to her mother, and I am – arrested!"

There was deep bitterness in his tone and manner.

"Mr. File," he said, "I am ready to go with you, sir."

"Hold! Wait!" called Mrs. Arlington from the couch. "Tell me where you have taken my daughter!"

Frank gave her a look, shook his head a bit, and again turned away.

"Oh, tell me!" pleaded the wretched mother. "I can't bear this suspense! My poor June!"

Then she sat bolt upright and almost screamed:

"If you harm a hair of her head, I'll make you regret it until the day of your death! You'll be conpelled to tell! I'm going to see that you are sent to prison! I'll make a convict of you!"

Frank did not retort. As he was walking out with File's hand on his shoulder, the woman fell on her knees and begged him to restore her daughter.

"Too bad!" said Merry, when the door was closed. "I believe she really thinks I know something about the girl."

File said nothing until they had descended to the street. On the steps of the hotel he paused and looked hard at Frank.

"Young man," he said, "you don't act to me like a desperado. I'm mightily disappointed in you. From what I heard, I supposed you a ruffian. To tell you the truth, I'm rather inclined in your favor."

"Thank you," said Frank, with a bit of bitterness. "Little good that does me, although I am grateful to know that I have not become villainous in appearance. I came here to do that woman a favor, knowing all the while that she hated me, and this is the way I have been received."

"Why did you take so much pains to come?"

"Because I know her daughter, a handsome, refined, noble-hearted girl. It was not for the woman's sake, but for her daughter's that I put myself to the trouble that has drawn me into this scrape, Mr. File. Tell me, what has been done to find and rescue June Arlington?"

"Everything possible," said the city marshal. "But the girl seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. She vanished in the very heart of this town, too. It's a most mysterious affair. Mr. Merriwell, I regret that my duty compelled me to place you under arrest and now compels me to lock you up. I hope circumstances may give you your freedom very soon."

Frank was somewhat touched by these simple words.

"Go ahead," he said. "But you had better get me under lock and key before my friends find out what has happened. They might raise trouble, and I don't want to see anybody hurt over this affair."

So they started down the street, walking side by side, like two friends. File did not even keep a hand on Merry.

They had proceeded but a short distance when a man suddenly appeared in the open doorway of a saloon. Frank saw the pistol in the man's hand, and he recognized his mortal enemy, Cimarron Bill.

As Bill appeared in that doorway, Merry knew the fellow's purpose was to make a second attempt to kill him, and Frank was unarmed and defenseless, under arrest at the time.

As Bill's weapon came up Frank made a sidelong spring. He did this at the very instant, it seemed, that the revolver spoke. The fact was that he sprang a trifle before the shot was fired. His movement seemed much like that of a man death-smitten by a bullet, and Cimarron Bill dodged back at once, believing he had accomplished his dastardly purpose.

Frank was not touched.

But the bullet meant for him had found a human target. Ben File swayed from side to side, his legs buckling beneath him, and fell into Merriwell's arms.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

BILL HIKES OUT

"Got it!" whispered File huskily. "He nailed me good and plenty that time!"

Without a word, fearing Cimarron Bill might discover he had shot the wrong man and seek to rectify his bad work, Frank lifted File in his muscular arms and ran into a store with him.

The city marshal was stretched on a counter.

"Send for a doctor!" commanded Merry. "And turn out a posse to take Cimarron Bill. He fired the shot."

At the mention of Cimarron Bill, however, consternation reigned. The desperado was all too well known in Holbrook, and scarcely a man in all the place cared to face him.

"No use," said File faintly. "Nobody'll dare touch Bill. He'll get out of town deliberately without being molested."

"Impossible!" exclaimed Merry. "Why, you don't mean to say they will let that murderous hound escape?"

"He'll escape now that I'm flat. There's not a man in Holbrook that dares face him."

"You're mistaken!" said Merry. "There is one man!"

"What one?"

"This one!"

"You?"

"Yes."

"Do you mean to say – "

"That I dare face that man! Give me my weapons and I'll go out and get him!"

Ben File looked at the boyish young man incredulously.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, as they were trying to stop the bleeding of his wound, which was in his left side. "That man has a record. He's the deadliest ruffian in Arizona. He would kill you."

"I don't believe it," said Frank. "I've seen his like before. Give me my revolvers, and I'll go take him. I'll bring him to you if you live!"

File fumbled in his huge pockets and brought out Merry's long-barreled revolvers.

"Go ahead if you want to," he said. "Somehow I take stock in you, though I'm afraid it's your funeral you're going to. Anyhow, if I'm booked to cash in, I don't mind giving you a show to levant. Here comes the doctor."

The same red-faced little man came rushing into the store, brought there by a messenger who had gone in search of him.

Frank examined his weapons, and then walked out of the store.

There was considerable excitement on the street, caused by the shooting. Merry minded no one, yet kept his eyes wide open for every one. As fast as he could step he proceeded straight to the open door from which Cimarron Bill had fired the shot. He had a pistol in either hand when he stepped through that doorway.

As he had expected, it was a saloon. Three persons were in the room, but Cimarron Bill was not there.

"Gentlemen," said Merry, "I'll be obliged if you will tell me where I can find the white-livered cur who just shot Ben File from this doorway."

They stared at him as if doubting their senses.

"If it's Cimarron Bill you're looking for, young man," one of them finally said, "take my advice and don't. It's the most onhealthy occupation you can engage in, and I advise – "

"Cut out the advice," said Merry sharply; "and tell me where the cowardly dog has gone."

"He ambled out o' yere directly arter doin' the shootin', and we last sees him lopin' down the street that-a-way. But you wants to keep a heap long distance – "

Frank waited for no more. He was satisfied that Bill had departed just as the man said, and he wheeled at once and started down the street.

Merry knew full well what sort of mission he had undertaken, but he was not daunted in the least by its magnitude. Cimarron Bill was his deadly foe, but he now saw his opportunity to bring the ruffian to an accounting for his crimes, and he did not propose to let the chance slip.

So he inquired as he passed down the street and found that Bill had hurried to the saloon kept by Schlitzenheimer.

Again Merry had his pistols ready when he entered the saloon. Early though it was, he found four men there engaged in a game of draw poker, and one of the four was old Joe Crowfoot.

Schlitzenheimer gave a shout when he saw Frank.

"My gootness!" he cried. "How you vos? Vere vos dot dalking tog alretty? I vouldt like to blay dot tog anodder came beenuckle of."

Frank was disappointed once more in failing to discover Cimarron Bill. He asked if the man had been there.

"He vos," nodded Schlitzenheimer. "Und avay he dit his saddle take."

"He took his saddle?"

"Yah."

"Then his saddle was here?"

"It he dit keep here, vor id vos very valueless," said the Dutchman. "He vos avraid stolen id would pe. I know Pill. Ven he come und say, 'Vritz, you tookit my saddles und keepit it a vile undil vor id I call,' I say, 'Yah, you pet.' I haf nod any anxiety him to make some drouble by."

"If he came for his saddle it is likely he meant to use it. Was he in a hurry?"

"Der piggest hurry I ever knewn him to pe indo. Ven I invortationed him to a drink take, he said he could not sdop vor id."

"He's on the run!" exclaimed Frank. "Where does he keep his horse when in town?"

"Ad Dorvelt's shust down a liddle vays."

Frank almost ran from the saloon and hurried down the street to Dorfelt's stable.

He was stared at in the same wondering amazement when he asked for Cimarron Bill.

"Mebbe you has urgent business with that gent?" said one man.

"I have," answered Merry. "He shot Ben File about ten minutes ago, and I am after him."

"Waal, you'll have to hustle to ketch him, an' I 'lows it's jest as well fer you. His hoss was saddled jest now, an' I opine he's well out o' town by this time."

Frank listened to hear no more. On the run, he set out to find his friends.

Singularly enough, not one of them knew anything of his arrest, although they had heard of the shooting. He found them in short order, and what he told them in a very few words stirred them from lassitude to the greatest excitement.

"Fellows," he said, "I'm going to run Cimarron Bill down if it takes a year! I've given my word to Ben File that I would bring Bill back. I mean to make good. Are you with me in this chase?"

They were with him to a man.

CHAPTER XXIX.

OLD JOE TAKES A DRINK

Away on the horizon, riding to the southeast, was a black speck of a horseman as Frank, Bart, Jack, and Ephraim galloped out of town on fresh mounts secured by Merry.

"There he is!" cried Frank. "We mustn't lose him! We must keep him in view and run him down before nightfall. Can we do it?"

"We can try!" said Bart grimly.

These young fellows seemed made of iron. All their weariness had vanished, and they sat in their saddles like young Centaurs, with the exception of Gallup, who could not be graceful at anything.

"This is what might well be called the strenuous life," observed Jack Ready. "It's almost too much for my delicate constitution. I fear my health will be undermined and my lovely complexion will be ruined."

"He has seen us," declared Frank. "He knows we are after him! It's going to be a hard chase."

"How about June Arlington?" asked Bart.

"When I gave Ben File my word to bring Cimarron Bill back I was under arrest for kidnaping June Arlington. Had I not made that promise I might still be under arrest. I must keep my word to File. I hope to do something for June later."

So they rode into the scorching desert, seeming to be gaining on the man ahead for a time.

The sun poured down mercilessly. Alkali dust rose and filled their nostrils. Red lizards flashed before them on the ground at rare intervals. And far ahead the black speck held into the distance.

"He knows where he's going, fellows," said Frank. "He's not the man to strike blindly into the desert. He'll come to water and feed before his horse gives out, and so we must find the same."

But fate seemed against them. Afar on the desert a haze arose and grew and became a beautiful lake, its shores lined with waving trees. And in this mirage the fugitive was swallowed up and lost. When the lake faded and vanished the black speck could be seen nowhere on the plain.

"Vanished into a gully of some sort," said Frank. "We must find just what has become of him."

So they kept on; but in time they came to feel that the search was useless. Water they had brought for themselves, together with some canned food; but the only relief they could give the horses was by pouring a little water over a sponge and wiping out the dry mouths of the poor animals.

They were forced to turn aside and seek some hills, where Frank felt certain there was a spring.

Thus it was that nightfall found them at the spring, but Cimarron Bill was gone, none of them knew where. There was feed for the horses in the little valley, and they made the best of it.

Frank was far from pleased. Everything had gone wrong since their arrival in Holbrook, and the prospect was most discouraging.

"By gum! it's too bad to hev to give it up," said Ephraim.

Frank shot him a look.

"I have no intention of giving it up," he said. "But I confess that I made one bad mistake."

"What was that?"

"I left Crowfoot back there in Schlitzenheimer's saloon playing poker."

"You think he'll be skinned, do you?" said Bart.

"Oh, I'm not worrying about that. The old reprobate can take care of himself. I knew it would be almost impossible to drag him away from that game, and that was why I did not bother with him. Didn't want to lose the time. But that redskin can follow a trail that would bother a bloodhound. If we had taken him at the start, he'd never lost the scent."

They lay on the ground and watched the heavens fill with bright stars. The heat of the day melted into coolness, and all knew it would be cold before morning.

Frank had anticipated that they might have to spend the night in this manner, and blankets had been brought.

They seemed alone in the wild waste, with no living thing save their horses within miles and miles. So, with no fear of attack, they wrapped their blankets about them and slept.

The wind swept almost icy through the little valley before morning dawned. As the eastern sky grew pale Frank opened his eyes and sat up.

A moment later a shout from his lips aroused the others.

Merry was staring at a familiar figure in a dirty red blanket. In their very midst old Joe lay stretched, and apparently he had been sleeping as soundly as any of them. Nor were his slumbers broken by Merry's shout, which astounded Frank beyond measure, for never before had he known the old fellow to sleep like that. Always when he had stirred he had found the beady eyes of the redskin upon him.

"Behold!" said Jack Ready. "Lo, the noble red man is again within our midst. But how came it thus?"

"Waal, may I be honswizzled!" grunted Gallup.

Frank flung aside his blanket.

"Something is the matter with him!" he said, in a tone that indicated anxiety. "If there wasn't, he'd not sleep this way. I wonder what it is. Is he dead?"

But when the red blanket was pulled down it was found that Joe lay with a quart bottle clasped to his heart in a loving embrace. The bottle was fully two-thirds empty.