Frank Merriwell's Backers Part 38

"Look!" he said, pointing from the open window. "See--see that fellow on the dark horse!"

Mrs. Arlington was near the window.

"The one with the small mustache?" she asked.

"Yes, that's the one."

"I see him."

"Well, that's Frank Merriwell!" said Bill.

Cimarron Bill was right. Frank Merriwell and Bart Hodge had ridden into Holbrook, and with them had come Boxer, the dog. Boxer had been attacked by the mongrel curs, and he showed his mettle by quickly putting them to flight.

As Bill gazed down from that window the evil light in his eyes deepened.

"Remember our bargain!" he said in such a terrible voice that the woman at his side shuddered.

Then she saw him bring forth a revolver, and, knowing what he meant to do, she uttered a little scream and ran back into another part of the room, unwilling to witness the dark deed.

Quickly kneeling, Bill rested his elbow on the window-ledge and took aim, meaning to send a bullet through the heart of the rightful owner of the Queen Mystery Mine.

The commotion in the street and her mother's cry had brought June Arlington into that room. June saw the man with the revolver, and her eyes fell on the horseman below. She recognized Frank Merriwell, for all that he was bronzed and changed, and had a small mustache.

With a sudden scream, the girl flung herself on Bill and spoiled his aim, so that when the revolver spouted smoke the bullet flew wide of the mark intended.

Bill uttered a savage snarl, wheeling about.

"You wretch!" panted the girl, who was now pale as snow. "You murderer!"

The man was dazzled by her beauty. Immediately he moved back from the window, bowing low.

"Beg your pardon, miss," he said. "He sure is an enemy of mine, and out here we shoots on sight. But mebbe he is your friend, in which case I lets up and gives him another show."

In that moment of excitement he had fallen into the frontier manner of speaking.

She looked at him with unspeakable horror in her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she panted. "You--you--murderer! Mother--this man--why is he here?"

But Mrs. Arlington, usually cold as ice and perfectly self-possessed, had quite lost her nerve. She sank into a chair, seeming on the verge of fainting, while she gave Bill a look that, ruffian though he was, he understood as an appeal to be left alone with June.

Nor was he loath about getting out of that room. His pistol had been discharged from the window, and, though the bullet had found no human target, men might come in haste to ask unpleasant questions.

"I begs your pardon, madam," he said, hurriedly picking up his hat. "I thinks I'll call again and finish this yere bit o' business. Just now I has another matter to attend to."

Then he hastened out.

June had flown to her mother.

"Tell me--tell me, mother, what it means!" she implored.

"My smelling-salts," faintly breathed the woman. "My heart, June! I--I'm afraid!"

Now, June knew well that the one great fear of her mother's life was sudden death from a heart trouble that came upon her at times, and so the girl hastened to bring out the bottle of salts and hold it beneath the pale lady's nose till she was somewhat recovered, though still resting limp on her chair and breathing heavily.

"What does it mean, mother?" asked the girl again. "I do not understand these strange things. I do not understand why such a wicked-looking man should be here in this room and about to shoot down in cold blood a young man in the street. He would have shot him from this very window had not I spoiled his aim."

Mrs. Arlington turned her eyes toward her daughter's face, but looked away quickly, still trembling.

"Did you know him at whom the man was about to shoot?" she weakly asked.

"Yes, I knew him, or I am much mistaken. It was Frank Merriwell. I saw him at the hotel in Fardale the day I returned to him those papers. You recollect, mother?"

"Yes, I remember it all too well, and it was the giving back to him of those papers that has made no end of trouble for us all. But for that foolish act of yours, June, he would not still be holding the mines that are rightfully the property of the C. M. A. of A."

"If those mines do not belong to him, how is it that he can hold them?"

"He has possession, and he holds it with armed men."

"But the law----"

"The law is slow, and, without those papers, it is not very sure. It is your folly, girl," declared the woman reproachfully, "that has made no end of trouble. It is your folly that brought Frank Merriwell near to his end a few moments ago, though you it was who saved him then."

"Mother, you speak in riddles! How can that be? I gave him back what was his. And have you forgotten that it was his brother, d.i.c.k, who kept you from slipping beneath the car-wheels, where you must have been maimed or killed?"

At this Mrs. Arlington sat up, and something like anger took from her her great pallor.

"No," said she, "nor have I forgotten that it was d.i.c.k Merriwell who brought upon my son all his trouble at Fardale! d.i.c.k Merriwell has been his blight there! d.i.c.k Merriwell is his enemy. He has tried to set himself over my boy, and no one shall do that!"

June knew how useless it was to talk of this matter with her mother, who refused to listen to reason, and so she did not try to press it further; but she again asked who was the man who had tried to shoot from the window.

"He was a miner," said Mrs. Arlington.

"And what business had he here in this room?"

"That is nothing to you, girl. Forget that you saw him here."

"A thing easier said than done, mother. I saw his face and his eyes, and I know he is a wicked man and one to be greatly feared. Why should you have dealings with such a wretch?"

"You ask too many needless questions, June. Look out and tell me if you still see anything of--of--Frank Merriwell."

But when June looked from the window Frank Merriwell was not to be seen on the street, which had again resumed its usual aspect.

"I must have a spell of quiet to restore my nerves, June," said Mrs.

Arlington, when the girl had told her. "Leave me. Call Jackson. I think I will lie down."

So the colored maid was called, and June lingered to make sure there was nothing she could do for her mother, who coldly bade her go.