Frank Merriwell's New Comedian: or, The Rise of a Star

“Wh – a – at?” squealed the individual addressed, in great excitement. “This to me! Why, I’ll – ”

“I wish ter great goshfrey yeou would!” hissed Ephraim, glaring at him. “I’d jest like to hev yeou try it! I’d give yeou a jolt that’d knock yeou clean inter the middle of next week!”

“Why, who is this fellow that seeks to create a disturbance?” blustered the little man, his fiery whiskers beginning to bristle and squirm again. “He should be sat upon.”

The country youth turned on him.

“I wish yeou’d tackle the job, yeou condemned little red-whiskered runt;” he shot at the blusterer with such suddenness that the little man staggered back and put up his hands, as if he had been struck. “Yeou are another meddler! I’d eat yeou, an’ I’d never know I’d hed a bite!”

“This is very unfortunate, madam,” purred the gallant man at the veiled woman’s side. “I am extremely sorry that you have had such an unpleasant experience. Now, if that creature – ”

He designated Ephraim by the final word, and Gallup cut him short right there.

“Yeou’re the cheapest one of the hull lot, old oil-smirk!” he flung at the speaker. “Such fellers as yeou are more dangerous to real ladies than all the young mashers goin’, fer yeou are a hypocrite who pretends to be virtuous.”

The man gasped and tried to say something, but seemed stricken speechless.

Now the cock-eyed man was aroused once more. He seemed on the point of making a swing at somebody or something. He pushed his face up close to Ephraim, but still his rebellious eye seemed looking in quite another direction.

“If you want any trouble here,” he said, hoarsely, “I’ll attend to you. I can do that very well.”

Ephraim looked at him, began to smile, broke into a grin, and burst into a shout of laughter.

“Haw! haw! haw!” he roared. “I couldn’t fight with yeou ef I wanted to, fer I’d think yeou didn’t mean me all the time, but that yeou really ought to be fightin’ with some other feller yeou was lookin’ at. Yeou’re the funniest toad in the hull puddle!”

“I’ll arrest the whole lot of you!” threatened the policeman. “Quit that business! Come along to the police station if you want to make any complaints.”

Then he turned to the woman, saying:

“Madam, I presume you will make a complaint against this fellow,” indicating Frank.

“I certainly shall,” she promptly answered; “for it is my duty to teach him a lesson.”

“Will you come to the station?”

“Yes.”

“Permit me to accompany you,” urged the gallant man.

“You are very kind,” she said; “but I think I can get along. I will follow at a distance.”

“All right,” nodded the officer, once more gripping Merriwell’s collar savagely. “March, sir!”

And then they started toward the station.

The bobbing man, the little man, the cock-eyed man, and the gallant man formed behind. Then the crowd fell in, and away they went, with the mysterious veiled woman following at a distance.

Ephraim placed himself at Frank’s side.

“This is a gol-darn outrage!” fumed the Vermonter, speaking to Merry. “Whut be yeou goin’ to do abaout it?”

“I shall have to do the best I can,” answered the unfortunate youth, quietly.

“But yeou won’t be able to start for Puelbo with the rest of the people.”

“It doesn’t look that way now.”

“That’s tough!”

“It is decidedly unfortunate, but I hope to get off in time to join the company before the first performance to-morrow night.”

“Haow did it happen?”

“I hardly know. The woman stopped me and insisted that I should go somewhere to talk with her. I explained that my time was limited, but that seemed to make no impression on her. When I tried to get away she flung her arms around me and screamed. That brought a crowd together, and then she declared I had assaulted her.”

The policeman on the other side of Frank laughed in ridicule. Although he said nothing, it was plain he took no stock in Frank’s story.

“Larf!” grated Gallup, under his breath. “Yeou think yeou know so gol-darned much that – ”

“Hush!” warned Frank. “I do not wish you to get into trouble. You must inform the others what has happened to me.”

“It’s purty gol-darn hard to keep still,” declared Ephraim. “I never see sich a set of natteral born fools in all my life! How many of the craowd saw what happened ’tween yeou an’ the woman?”

“No one, I think.”

“An’ I’ll bet a squash they’ll all go up an’ swear to any kind of a story she’ll tell. Who is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s queer. Wut was her little game?”

“Don’t know that.”

“By gum! it’s some kind of a put-up job!”

“I have a fancy there is something more than appears on the surface. It is an attempt to make trouble for me.”

“That’s right.”

“I hope to see the woman’s face at the police station.”

“Yeou won’t!”

“Why not?”

“She won’t show it.”

“Perhaps the judge will request her to lift her veil.”

“Not by a gol-darned sight! Men are too big fools over women. They’ll take any old thing she’ll say abaout yeou, an’ lock yeou up fer it. She’ll give some kind of name and address, an’ they’ll let her go at that.”

“Well, unless I can get bail right away I shall be in a bad fix. If Kent Carson were in town he would pull me out of it, as he did before.”

The officer pricked up his ears.

“Ha!” he exclaimed. “Then you have been arrested in Denver before? This is a second offense! I rather think you’ll not get off as easy as you did the first time.”

“Oh, yeou are enough to – ”

“Ephraim!”

With that word Frank cut Gallup short.

In a short time they approached the police station.

“I have been here before,” said Merry, quietly. “This is the station to which I was taken when Leslie Lawrence made his false charge against me.”

Entering, he was taken before the desk of the sergeant, the bobbing man, the little man, the cock-eyed man, and the gallant man following closely, while others also came in.

The sergeant looked up.

“Ah, Brandon,” he said to the officer, “another one?”

“Yes, sir,” answered the policeman.

“What is the charge?”

“Insulting a lady on the street.”

“Who was the lady?”

“She is coming. She will be here directly to make the complaint against him.”

Then the sergeant took a good look at the accused. He started, bent forward, and looked closer.

“Mr. Merriwell!” he exclaimed; “is it you?”

“Yes, sergeant,” bowed Frank, with a smile. “It seems to be my luck to cause you trouble once more.”

“Trouble!” ejaculated the man behind the desk. “Why, this is very surprising! And you are accused of insulting a lady?”

“I am,” was the quiet answer.

“Well! well! well! It hardly seems possible. I fail to understand why you should do such a thing. It was very kind of you to send me tickets for your performance yesterday, and I was fortunate to be able to attend. I was greatly pleased, both with your play and yourself, to say nothing of your supporting company. I see the papers have given you a great send-off, but it is no better than you merit.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Frank, simply.

The policeman began to look disturbed, while the bobbing man, the little man, the gallant man, and the cock-eyed man all stared at Frank and the sergeant in surprise.

“You seem to recognize the offender, sir,” said the officer who had arrested Frank.

“I recognize the gentleman, Brandon,” said the sergeant, putting particular emphasis on the word “gentleman.”

“He said he had been arrested before.”

“He was, on a trumped-up charge, and he was promptly dismissed by me.”

The officer looked still more disturbed.

“But this is no trumped-up charge,” he declared. “I have witnesses.”

“Where are they?”

“Here.”

He motioned toward the men, who had followed closely on entering the station, whereupon the little man drew himself up stiffly, as if he imagined he must be six feet tall, at least; the bobbing man bobbed in a reckless manner, as if he had quite lost control of himself; the gallant man lifted his hat and mopped the shiny spot on the top of his head with a silk handkerchief, attempting to appear perfectly at ease; and the cock-eyed man made a desperate attempt to look the sergeant straight in the eye, but came no nearer than the upper corner of the station window, which was several yards away to the left.

“And where is the lady who makes the charge?” demanded the man behind the desk.

Where, indeed! It was time for her to appear, but all looked for her in vain.

“She must be here directly,” said the sergeant, “if she is coming at all.”

“Oh, she is coming!” hastily answered the officer.

“She may be waiting outside, hesitating about coming in,” said the sergeant. “You may go out and bring her in, Brandon.”

The policeman hesitated an instant, as if he feared to leave Frank.

“It is all right,” asserted the sergeant. “I will guarantee that Mr. Merriwell is quite safe.”

Then Brandon hurried out.

“I believe you are going on the road with your play, Mr. Merriwell?” said the sergeant, in a most friendly and affable manner.

“I am,” answered Frank, “if I succeed in getting started.”

“How is that?”

“Well,” smiled Merry, “I was due to take a train in one hour and thirty minutes when I was accosted by the unknown woman whom it is said I insulted. I hardly think I shall be able to catch that train now.”

The sergeant looked at his watch.

“How much time have you now?” he asked.

Frank consulted his timepiece.

“Just forty-one minutes,” he said.

“Will you kindly tell me what occurred on the street?” invited the sergeant. “But wait – first I wish to know who witnessed this assault.”

There was some hesitation as the official behind the desk looked the assembled crowd over.

“Come,” he cried, sharply. “Who knows anything about this affair?”

“I do,” asserted the man with the cock-eye, summoning courage to step forward a bit. “And here are others.”

“Which ones?”

“Him, and him, and him,” answered the crooked-eyed man, jabbing a pudgy and none too clean forefinger at the gallant man, the little man, and the bobbing man, although he seemed to look at three entirely different persons from those he named.

The gallant man was perspiring, and looked as if he longed to escape. He also seemed anxious over the non-appearance of the veiled lady.

The bobbing man took a step backward, but somebody pushed him from behind, and he bobbed himself nearly double.

The little man tugged at his fluttering whiskers, looking to the right and left, as if thinking of dodging and attempting to escape in a hurry.

“And these are the witnesses?” said the sergeant, his eyes seeming to pierce them through and through. “Their testimony against you shall be carefully heard, Mr. Merriwell, and it will be well for them to be careful about giving it.”

“If I understand what is proper,” said the cock-eyed man, who seemed the only one who dared speak outright, “this is not the court, and you are not the judge.”

But he subsided before the piercing eyes of the sergeant, so that his final words were scarcely more than a gurgle in his throat.

“Now, Mr. Merriwell,” said the sergeant, “I will listen to your story. Officer at the door, take care that none of the witnesses depart until they are given permission.”

Frank told his story briefly, concisely, and convincingly. Barely had he finished when the officer who made the arrest came in, looking crestfallen and disgusted.

“Where is the lady, Brandon?” asked the sergeant.

“I can’t find her, sir,” confessed the policeman. “She is nowhere in the vicinity.”

“Then it seems you have been very careless in permitting her to slip away. Now there is no one to make a charge against the prisoner.”

“The witnesses – perhaps some of them will do so.”

The sergeant turned sharply on the little man, to whom he fired the question:

“Did you witness this assault on the unknown lady, sir?”

The little man jumped.

“No, sus-sus-sir,” he stammered; “but I – ”

“That will do!” came sternly from the man behind the desk. “Step aside.”

The little man did so with alacrity, plainly relieved.

Then the sergeant came at the gallant man with the same question:

“Did you witness the assault on the lady, sir?”

“I was not present when it took place, but I – ”

“That will do! Step aside.”

The gallant man closed up and stepped.

Next the bobbing man was questioned:

“Did you witness the assault on the lady, sir?”

“I arrived just after it was committed, but I can tell you – ”

“Nothing! That will do! Step aside.”

The cock-eyed man folded his arms across his breast and glared fiercely at the window, which seemed to offend him.

“You are next.” said the sergeant. “What did you see?”

“I saw quite enough to convince me that the assault had been committed before I reached the spot, but – ”

“Another ‘but.’ ‘But me no buts.’ There seems to be no one present who witnessed the assault, and so no one can prefer a charge against Mr. Merriwell. Mr. Merriwell, you have now exactly thirty minutes in which to catch your train. Don’t stop to say a word, but git up and git. You are at liberty.”

And Frank took the sergeant’s advice, followed closely by Ephraim.

CHAPTER XVIII. – AT THE LAST MOMENT

Frank Merriwell’s company had gathered at the railway station to take the train for Puelbo. All but Merriwell and Gallup were on hand. Havener had purchased the tickets.

Hodge restlessly paced up and down the platform, his face dark and disturbed.

There were inquiries for Frank. Stella Stanley came to Havener and asked:

“Where is Mr. Merriwell?”

“I do not know,” confessed the stage manager, who had been deputized for the occasion by Frank to look out for tickets, and make necessary arrangements.

“He hasn’t come?”

“No; but he’ll be here before the train pulls out. You know he has a way of always appearing on time.”

Hodge stopped in his walk, and stared at Havener.

“I’d like to know when he left the hotel,” said Bart. “I called for him several times before coming here, but each time I found he was not in his room, and no one knew anything about him. His bill was not settled, either.”

“But his baggage came down with the others,” said Havener.

“Because the hotel people permitted it, as he was vouched for by Mr. Carson, who seems to be well known to everybody in this city.”

“You don’t suppose anything has happened to detain him, do you?” anxiously asked the actress. “I do hope we shall not make another bad start, same as we did before. Agnes Kirk says she knows something will happen, for Mr. Merriwell gave away the cat Mascot.”

“Agnes Kirk is forever prophesying something dismal,” said Hodge. “She’s a regular croaker. If she didn’t have something to croak about, she wouldn’t know what to do. She declared the cat a hoodoo in the first place, but now she says we’ll have bad luck because Frank let it go. She makes me a trifle weary!”

Hodge was not in a pleasant humor.

Granville Garland and Lester Vance came up.

“It’s almost train time,” said Garland. “Where is our energetic young manager?”

“He will be along,” Havener again asserted.

“I hope so,” said Vance. “I sincerely hope this second venture will not prove such a miserable fizzle as the first one. Everything depends on Frank Merriwell.”

“Something depends on you!” flashed Hodge, who seemed easily nettled. “Frank Merriwell’s company did all it could to make the first venture a fizzle. Now they should do all they can to make this one a success.”

“Hello, Thundercloud is lowering!” exclaimed Garland.

“Save your epithets!” exclaimed Bart. “My name is Hodge.”

“My dear Hodge,” said Garland, with mock politeness, “you must know it is but natural that we should feel a bit anxious.”

“I may feel as anxious as any of you, but I do not go round croaking about it.”

“But our first failure – ”

“There it is again! I’m tired of hearing about that! You and Vance are dead lucky to be in this second company, for you both joined in the attempted assault on Merriwell when Folansbee skipped, and the company seemed to be stranded in Puelbo. If I’d been Frank Merriwell I’d sent you flying, and you can bet I would not have taken you back.”

“Then it’s fortunate for us that you were not Frank Merriwell,” Garland sneered.

“It is,” agreed Hodge. “Some people do not know when they are treated well.”

“That will do!” came sharply from Havener. “This is no time to quarrel. By Jove! it’s time for that train, and Merriwell’s not here.”

“Perhaps he’s backed out at the last minute and decided not to take the play out,” said Vance. “It may be that his courage has failed him.”

“Now that kind of talk makes me sick!” exploded Hodge. “If you had any sense you wouldn’t make it!”

“I like that!” snapped Vance, his face flushing.

“I’m glad you do!” flung back Bart. “Didn’t think you would. Hoped you wouldn’t. Only a fool would suppose that, after all this trouble and expense, any man with an ounce of brains in his head would back out without giving a single performance of the play.”

“Well, where is Merriwell?”

Again Havener declared:

“He’ll be here.”

“But here comes the train!”

The train was coming. There was activity and bustle at the station. The platform was alive with moving human beings. Agnes Kirk and Cassie Lee came out of the ladies’ waiting room. The male members of the company got together quickly.

“He has not come!” exclaimed Agnes Kirk, her keen eyes failing to discover Frank. “I feared it! I knew it!”

Hodge half turned away, grumbling something deep in his throat.

The actors looked at each other in doubt and dismay.

With a rush and a roar the train came in, and drew up at the station. Passengers began to get off.

A heavily veiled woman in black came out of the ladies’ room, and started for the train. As she passed the group of actors some of their conversation seemed to attract her notice. She paused an instant and looked them over, and then she turned toward the steps of a car.

“Excuse me, madam,” said Hodge, quickly. “You have dropped your handkerchief.”

He picked it up and passed it to her. As he did so, he noticed the letters “L. F.” on one corner.

“Thank you,” she said, in a low voice.

At that moment, for the last time, Havener was reiterating:

“I believe Frank Merriwell will be here. All get onto the train. He never gets left.”

Then the woman tossed her head a bit and laughed. It was a scornful laugh, and it attracted the attention of several of the group. She turned quickly, and stepped into the nearest car.

“Something tells me he will not arrive,” declared Agnes Kirk. “The hoodoo is still on. This company will meet the same fate the other did.”

“Don’t talk so much about it,” advised Havener, rather rudely. “Get onto the train – everybody!”

Hodge was staring after the veiled woman.

“Wonder what made her laugh like that?” he muttered. “Seems to me I’ve heard that laugh before. It seemed full of scornful triumph. I wonder – ”

He did not express his second wonder.

“Come, Hodge,” said Havener, “get aboard. Follow the others.”

“I’ll be the last one,” said Hodge. “I’m waiting for Frank.

“I’m afraid,” confessed Havener, beginning to weaken.

“Afraid of what?” Hodge almost hissed.

“It begins to look bad,” admitted the stage manager. “I’m afraid something has happened to Frank. If he doesn’t come – ”

“I don’t go,” declared Bart. “I shall stay and find out what has happened to him. You must go. You must sit on those croakers. Your place is with the company; mine is with Frank Merriwell.”

“All aboard!”

The conductor gave the warning.

“What’s this?”

Rattle-te-bang, on the dead jump, a cab was coming along the street. The cabman was putting the whip to his foaming horses.

“He’s coming,” said Hodge, with cool triumph, putting his hands into his trousers pockets, and waiting the approach of the cab.

Something made him feel certain of it. Up to the platform dashed the cab, the driver flinging the horses back, and flinging himself to the platform to fling open the door.

Dong dong!

The train was starting.

Out of the cab leaped Frank Merriwell, grip in hand. At his heels Ephraim Gallup came sprawling.

Bart was satisfied, Havener was delighted. Both of them sprang on board the train. Across the platform dashed Frank and the Vermont youth, and they also boarded the moving cars.

“Well,” laughed Merry, easily, “that was what I call a close call. Ten dollars to the cabby did it, and he earned his sawbuck.”

“I congratulate you!” cried Havener. “I confess I had given you up. But what happened to detain you?”

“Nothing but a little adventure,” answered Merry, coolly. “I’ll tell you about it.”

They followed him into the car.

Several members of the company had been looking from the car window, and the arrival of Frank had been witnessed. They gave a shout as he entered the car, and all were on their feet.

“Welcome!” cried Douglas Dunton, dramatically – “welcome, most noble one! Methinks thou couldst not do it better in a play. It was great stuff – flying cab, foaming horses, moving train, and all that. Make a note of it.”

“I believe he did it on purpose,” declared Agnes Kirk, speaking to Vance, with whom she had taken a seat.

“Very likely,” admitted Lester. “Wanted to do something to attract attention.”

“I think it was mean! He fooled us.”

But several members of the company shook hands with Frank, and congratulated him.

“I told you he would not get left,” said Havener, with triumph.

At the rear end of the car was a veiled woman, who seemed to sink down behind those in front of her, as if she sought to avoid detection. Somehow, although her face could not be seen, there was in her appearance something that betokened disappointment and chagrin.

Of course Frank was pressed for explanations, but he told them that business had detained him. He did not say what kind of business.

At length, however, with Hodge, Havener and Gallup for listeners, all seated on two facing seats, he told the story of his adventure with the veiled woman, and his arrest, which ended in a discharge that barely permitted him to leap into a cab, race to the hotel, get his grip, pay his bill, and dash to the station in time to catch the train.

As the story progressed Hodge showed signs of increasing excitement. When Merry finished, Bart exclaimed:

“How did the woman look?”

“I did not see her face.”

“How was she dressed? Describe her.”

“Don’t know as I can.”

“Do the best you can.”

Frank did so, and Bart cried:

“I’ve seen her!”

“What?”

Merry was astonished.

“I am sure of it,” asserted Bart. “I have seen that very same woman!”

“When?”

“To-day.”

“How long ago?”

“A very short time.”

“Where?”

“At the station while we were waiting for you to appear.”

“Is it possible. How do you know it was her?”

Then Bart told of the strange woman who had dropped her handkerchief, of the initials he had seen when he picked it up, and of her singularly scornful laugh when she heard Havener declare that Merriwell never got left.

All this interested Frank very much. Bart concluded by saying:

“That woman is on this very train!”

“Waal, may I be tickled to death by grasshoppers!” ejaculated the youth from Vermont. “Whut in thunder do yeou s’pose she’s up to?”

“It may be the same one,” said Frank. “It would be remarkable if it should prove to be the same one. Two women might look so much alike that the description of one would exactly fit the other – especially if both were heavily veiled.”

Bart shook his head.

“Something tells me it is the same woman,” he persisted.

“But why should she be on this train?”

“Who can answer that? Why did she try such a trick on the street?”

“Don’t know,” admitted Merry. “Once I thought it might be that she was mashed on me, but it didn’t prove that way.”

“Oh, I dunno,” drawled Gallup, with a queer grin. “Yeou turned her daown, an’ that made her sore. Ef she’d bin mashed on ye, perhaps she’d done jest as she did to git revenge fer bein’ turned daown.”

“No, something tells me this was more than a simple case of mash,” said Frank.