Frank Merriwell's Races Part 39

The boys turned toward college, discussing the queer actions of the unknown as they walked along. One or two of them fully believed the man must be a lunatic.

That night, as Frank and Harry were preparing for bed, the former declared:

"That strange man is about as large a mystery as I ever ran across. He is beginning to be a decided nuisance."

"What do you make of him, anyway?"

"That he is a Westerner, or wishes to be thought such. His language betrays that. And he is the last man I could dream would be staking enough money on a game of college baseball to be able to offer a bribe of two thousand dollars to make sure that the game would result in his favor."

"By Jove!" cried Rattleton; "if any other fellow but yourself had told me that a stranger had made them such an offer and had forked over one-half cash in advance I should have considered him a looming byer--no, a blooming liar!"

"And you would not be to blame for thinking so. To me it seems like a dream, but I know it actually happened."

"Well, what is he hanging around New Haven for?"

"I'll give it up, unless he hopes to get at Heffiner or Dad Hicks, one of whom must pitch the game at Springfield."

"He'll get used rough if he pushes his dirty dough at either Heffiner or Hicks!" cried Rattleton.

"I think so," nodded Frank. "I believe they are loyal to dear old Yale, and nothing can buy their honor."

"Most Yale men are. There may be one or two sneaks who would sell out, as there are black sheep in every flock. I don't believe Flemming would be above such a trick."

"Oh, I don't know! I do not wish to think that bad of Flemming. I know he is my enemy, and I believe he hates me so he would do almost anything to injure me but I do not wish to think that a fellow like him even would stoop to such a dastardly trick as to betray old Yale."

"You always think every fellow is white till you are convinced to the contrary beyond the shadow of a doubt."

"I had rather believe all men honest and deceive myself in that manner than to suspect everybody and thus think that one honest man was a rogue."

Harry regarded Frank in a queer manner, slowly shaking his head, but saying nothing more. For all that they had been friends and roommates for a year and a half, Rattleton was forced to confess to himself that there still remained many things about Merriwell that he could not understand.

That Frank was shrewd Harry knew, and yet Merriwell sometimes seemed to deliberately deceive himself by thinking that certain fellows were honest when he should have known better. It seemed the hardest thing in the world for Frank to be convinced that any fellow was thoroughly bad, even though that person might be an enemy who had endeavored in numerous ways to do him an injury.

"Merriwell seems to come out all right in everything," thought Rattleton; "but it would not be the luck of any other fellow who dared take the chances he does."

CHAPTER XXIV.

TWO WARNINGS.

The morning after the evening when Frank saw the mysterious stranger in front of Traeger's he received a warning note through the mail. It read as follows:

"Be constantly on your guard. Your enemies are plotting to do you serious injury. I shall do what I can to foil them, but you had better watch out."

It was unsigned, and the handwriting was cramped and awkward, as if the person who wrote it was not accustomed to handle a pen.

"Well, I wonder what sort of a game this is!" cried Frank, in disgust.

"It is a fake, pure and simple!"

Rattleton was at his side.

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"Read that!" invited Frank, thrusting the anonymous warning into the ready hands of his friend.

Harry glanced it over and then whistled softly.

"Rot!" he cried. "Anybody can see that's lot on the nevel--I mean not on the level."

"But what sort of a game is it?" questioned Frank, in perplexity. "If it was an appointment to meet somebody somewhere, or even a warning to stay away from some place, I could see something in it; but the mere statement that enemies are plotting to injure me doesn't indicate much in this case."

"It seems to indicate that somebody fakes you for a tool--no, takes you for a fool!" spluttered Rattleton.

Frank's face grew scornful.

"That somebody may find out that it is not entirely healthy to try crooked games with me," he grimly said. "I believe I see through the trick."

"What is it, then?"

"This bogus warning will be followed by another. The other will go a little further than this. Then will come the third, which will be the one intended to draw me into some sort of a trap. Oh, the game is too thin!"

Harry looked into his roommate's face, and saw that Frank Merriwell was aroused at last.

"What are you going to do?" asked Rattleton.

"I am going to have a few words with Fred Flemming at the first opportunity. I have been easy with Flemming, for I could not believe the fellow all bad, even though he had tried to injure me, but, if he is going to hire a ruffian like this unknown man to try to work my ruin, I shall draw the lines on Mr. Flemming. He is rich, but that will not save him."

"They say he has money to burn."

"I don't care if he is a Monte Cristo. He cannot ride over me with all his money, and I do not believe that a scoundrel will be tolerated at Yale after his villainy is exposed, even though he may be rich and have influential parents and connections."

"What do you think the game is?"

"As to that I am more or less at sea; but I believe that the bribe which was offered me to throw the ball game to Harvard was a trap meant to work my undoing."

"Flemming must have known your hand would not permit you to play in that game, so he could not have been in that piece of business."

"My dear boy, I do not fancy I was expected to pitch that game. It was thought that I would keep the money. That money was marked. This man would have gone forth and blowed that he had bribed me. He would have told what marked money he had given me. I should have been cornered--perhaps arrested--then searched. You see what that would have meant. The marked money would have been found on my person. It would have been exactly as the stranger had described it. It is certain that somebody was watching and saw him give me the money. That person would have testified against me. Then Frank Merriwell's college career would have come to a sudden termination. In some ways it was a bungling plot, and in others it was crafty enough."

"But a cool thousand--that was an awful roll to push at a fellow!"

"It was a bold and desperate stroke, and the fact that such a sum was offered shows that the one who put up the job knew I could not be bought with a petty amount. He did not know that it made no difference whether it was one dollar or one million--I would not sell my honor and betray dear old Yale for any sum!"

"You have other enemies besides Flemming."