Frank Merriwell's Races Part 35

"Oh, nothing in particular," answered Merriwell, quietly. "I simply fired a scoundrel, that's all."

"What was he up to, old man?" demanded Bob Collingwood, in a tone that indicated that he was sorry not to have taken a hand in the little fracas. "Did he try to do you?"

"No; but he is trying to do Yale."

"How is that?"

Frank explained, briefly telling of the bribe offered by the mysterious stranger.

A circle of lads had gathered about Merriwell, and they listened with rising anger to his words. Cries of astonishment and rage broke from their lips when Frank told of the truly astonishing bribe which the unknown had offered.

"My only regret," concluded Frank, "was that I did not have two good hands with which to handle the rascal."

"And my regret is that I was not there to handle him for you!" cried Jack Diamond.

"I wonder how the fellow got in here?" exclaimed Collingwood. "I'll have to inquire into that."

"He can't be far away," cried one of the angry lads. "Let's get out and nab him!"

"Come on! come on!" was the general cry, and there was a rush for the door.

But the unknown had not lingered in the vicinity of the boathouse. He was not found, which made it plain that he had taken to his heels as soon as he landed outside the window.

"Too bad!" growled Collingwood. "A good soak in the river is what he'd got, if we'd caught him."

CHAPTER XXI.

ON THE SPECIAL TRAIN.

Some of the lads felt like staying in New London and making a night of it, but this was strictly against rules, and those who did so took a desperate chance of getting into trouble by it.

After the race there was a general rush for the trains, and those bound west over the N. Y., N. H. & H. were crowded.

Later on there was a special train for the Yale crew and their friends.

As this train was not exclusive and it was generally known that it would be run, large numbers of students waited for it, and it was quite as crowded as the trains which had preceded it.

The car containing the victorious crew was a scene of wild merrymaking.

The eight muscular lads who had pulled off another victory for Old Eli were gathered in the middle of the car and surrounded by admiring friends, who cheered and sang and smashed one another's hats, and played the very Old Nick with one another.

Beer, wine and whiskey had been brought on board the train, and it was urged upon the crew. Danny Griswold was in his glory. About half the time he was perched upon the shoulders of the crowd, and it was observable that he did not refuse anything that was offered him in the way of a liquid. Still, for all that he drank so much and mixed his drinks, he did not seem to get any worse off than he had been when the train started from New London.

Charlie Creighton climbed upon the backs of two seats and made a speech.

"Hark, ye n.o.ble sons of Old Eli!" he began, with a spread-eagle gesture that came near causing him to lose his balance and fall off headlong.

"This is the great day when we can get up on our hind legs and make the welkin ring with war whoops of victory. To-day we stand with one foot on Princeton's neck and the heel of the other foot gouging into Harvard's back. They have bitten the dust before us, oh, mighty warriors in blue!

They have fallen like autumn leaves before a gale. We have carried our colors on to victory in many a mad scrimmage, but never have we done a better job than we did this day. During the greater part of the race it looked as if Harvard would take our scalps. We who watched the awful struggle felt our blood turn cold with fear. Then, when we looked upon the calm face of our captain [cheers], we took heart and hoped. Like clockwork he was handling his men, and his calm confidence gave them heart. They saw he did not fear the result, and when he began to drive them for the final spurt every one of that n.o.ble band responded like the greatest of heroes. [More cheers.] Then it was that Yale began to crowd Harvard. Then it was that the Harvard crew showed how the pressure was telling on them. Then it was that the backers of Old Eli who were watching the struggle became confident that we were still in it and would pull off the race after all. Then Old Yale crept into the lead, the spurt being admirably timed, so that our boat crossed the line just in time to make Old Eli again the winner. And to whom is honor due for this? You know!"

"Collingwood! Collingwood!" roared the jubilant crowd in the car.

"Hurrah for dear old Bob!"

Then they cheered and cheered, and then they called for a speech from "dear old Bob."

Collingwood was lifted to his feet. He protested that he could not make a speech, but they would not be satisfied till he had said something, and so he cried:

"Well, boys, we did them--and we did them good!"

This was better than a long speech, and it produced the most unbounded enthusiasm.

When the excitement had abated somewhat, Collingwood arose again, and motioned for silence. In a moment he was receiving the full attention of every one.

"Every man on the crew deserves praise," began Bob.

"Hooray for the croll hew--I mean the whole crew!" shouted Harry Rattleton, smashing his new straw hat over Bandy Robinson's head.

"But there is one who deserves especial commendation," Collingwood added.

There was a breathless silence, and all eyes were turned on Frank Merriwell, who flushed beneath this sudden attention.

"There was one man on the crew who was not in condition to row in the race to-day, and I came very near letting him out. Now I am glad I did not, for, although he had a bad felon on his left hand, there was no man of the crew who pulled a stiffer stroke or showed more lasting powers till the finish was reached. He fainted then, it is true, but it was because of the frightful pain in his hand and arm, and I wish you to remember that he did not faint till the victory was won."

"Merriwell! 'Rah! 'rah! 'rah!"

Not even Bob Collingwood himself received a greater ovation. Frank was seized, he was lifted aloft, he was perched on the shoulders of his friends, and then there was a general howl for a speech.

Frank felt himself thrill from his hair to his toes; his eyes were dimmed with moisture, even though he laughed. In his bosom there was a choking sensation of grat.i.tude and love for his comrades and the admiring throng around him. He forgot that he had a single foe at Yale--that he had a foe in all the wide world.

"Boys," he said, somewhat brokenly, "I did my best for dear old Yale--that is all."

That was all he said. It was enough. It seemed to touch a chord in every breast, and there was a ring of patriotism in the cheering that followed.

"Here's to good Old Yale--drink it down!

Here's to good Old Yale--drink it down!

Here's to good Old Yale, She's so hearty and so hale-- Drink it down! drink it down! down! down!"

It seemed that every person in the car joined in singing this song. The enthusiasm was running higher and higher. In every heart the Yale spirit grew deeper and stronger during that ride from New London to New Haven.

The students who were there never forgot that scene--never forgot how they thrilled with love for Old Yale. The hardships and struggles of college days were forgotten; the triumphs and joys alone were remembered.

But with it all it is certain that the result of the race had disappointed no Harvard man more than it did Fred Flemming.

At the last moment he had been overjoyed to learn that Merriwell had a bad felon on one of his hands, which, it seemed, must debar him from rowing in the great race.

Flemming had kept himself in condition as far as possible, and he lost no time to let Collingwood know that he could be called on in case of emergency.

That he would be called on seemed almost certain, for he was notified to be on hand at Yale's quarters before the time set for the race to begin.