Frank Merriwell's Races Part 46

The mysterious man introduced himself as David Scott, the confidential agent of Charles Merriwell, Frank's unfortunate father, who had spent the best years of his life and separated himself from his family and friends in the mad search after "phantom fortune."

At last Charles Merriwell had "struck it rich," and he was now a very wealthy man; but he was broken in health, and he often feared for his reason. As Charles Merriwell had been eccentric and unfathomable all his life while poor, thus he remained now that he was rich. Of late he had been seized by a conviction that he could not live long, and it was his desire to make a will that would give almost his entire wealth to his son. But before he made such a will, Mr. Merriwell decided to know just what sort of a young man his son had become. As he did not feel like leaving his mine and going East to investigate, he sent his confidential clerk, David Scott.

In his instructions to Scott, Charles Merriwell showed the peculiarities of his character. He provided the agent with plenty of money, and instructed him to thoroughly probe the inward character of the youth about which he was to acquire information. Scott was instructed to discover all of Frank's bad habits, and to determine if the lad could be led astray by evil influence, or in any other manner. The agent had carried out his instructions to his complete satisfaction, and he complimented the blushing boy on his integrity of character and sterling manhood.

Scott explained how he had pretended to ally himself with Frank's foes, and thus had heard the plots against the boy. He had sent Frank the warnings, and he had secured the aid of Plug Kirby to aid him in beating off Merriwell's ruffianly a.s.sailants.

"I scarcely think you will be troubled any more by your enemies,"

declared Scott. "I had a session with them last night, after the failure of their attempt on you, and I sent the varmints scurrying for tall timber in a hurry. I told them that I was your friend, and not your enemy, and that I would come up as a witness against them if you saw fit to prosecute them. Then they begged me to keep still, and agreed to let up on you for good and all if I wouldn't chirp. I made the galoots no promises."

For hours Frank and Scott sat and talked of Charles Merriwell, his health, his mine and his plans. And when the man departed, it was with a letter from Frank Merriwell to Charles Merriwell in his possession.

The next evening Frank received a call which surprised him greatly. What it was the next chapter will tell.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

FRIENDS OR FOES.

Thump--bang! thump--bang!

"Open this door!"

Thumpety--thump--bang! bang; bang!

"Open this door, or I will dake it brown--I mean I will break it down!"

Harry was excited.

"Hold on a moment, can't you?" cried the laughing voice of Frank from within the room.

Harry was pressing against the door with one hand, having rained the heavy blows upon it with the other hand, which was clinched in a most threatening manner.

The door flew open with a suddenness that precipitated Rattleton into the room with a headlong rush and plunged him plump into the stomach of a young man who happened to be in the way.

"Ugh!"

"Wow!"

b.u.mp! b.u.mp!--both went down, clasped in each other's arms.

Two other lads stood staring at the fallen ones. They were Frank Merriwell and Fred Flemming.

Tom Thornton was the unfortunate who stood in the way of Rattleton's headlong rush.

And Harry, quite unintentionally, had struck Thornton a smart blow with his clinched fist.

At that moment it did look as if the excited lad had rushed into the room with the premeditated purpose of hitting Tom.

"Here! here!--break away!" cried Merriwell, sharply.

"Not much!" panted Tom, in excitement and anger. "Think I'm going to let him go, so he can hit me again?"

"Catch hold, Flemming," ordered Frank--"catch hold of your friend, and we'll part them."

He grasped Rattleton by the collar as he spoke, but Fred made no move to pull Thornton away.

Seeing this, Merriwell obtained a firm hold on the collars of both Harry and Tom, and, with a surprising display of strength, wrenched them apart, yanked them to their feet, and held them at arm's length.

"Steady, now!" he cried, as they seemed to betray a desire to get at each other. "Quit it!"

"He struck me!" cried Thornton.

"It was antirely excidental--no, entirely accidental," declared Harry, flourishing his arms.

Tom dodged.

"Well, you act as if you are trying to bring about another accident," he said. "I know you hit me intentionally, and I'll make you pay for it, too!"

"Bah! you can't make me pay for anything!" flung back Harry, his anger aroused by Thornton's words.

"Do you think you can run around punching fellows in this way without getting it back? You'll find you are mistaken!"

"You were in my way when I came in."

"I didn't have time to get out of your way."

"Well, what's all this about anyway?" demanded Frank. "Are you fellows trying to settle some sort of a score?"

"It looks to me," said Flemming, stiffly, "as if Mr. Rattleton took advantage of our presence in this room to strike Thornton."

"Well, what are you chaps here for, anyway?" demanded Harry. "That is what I would like to know. We don't run in your cla.s.s, and so----"

"Hold up, old man," interrupted Merriwell, promptly. "Mr. Flemming and Mr. Thornton called to see me about a personal matter."

"I thought so," declared Rattleton, "and I decided you would get the worst end of it, as they were two to your one--and the door was locked.

If they are here to do you, count me into it. I'll take care of this fellow Thornton while you polish off Flemming."

"We did not come here to fight," said Fred, haughtily.

"Didn't?" exclaimed Harry, in surprise. "Then what sort of a game are you up to, for I know it is something crooked?"

Flemming tossed his head.

"Mr. Rattleton," he said, "your language is very offensive to me."