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CHAPTER XVIII. – OLD FRIENDS
“We are a set of jolly, jolly lads,
As we ride – as we ride away!
You bet we’re up to date, but are no cads,
As we ride – as we ride away!
We’ve crossed the plains and scaled the Rockies high,
And now hurrah! for ’Frisco’s town is nigh;
We sing as toward that port we swiftly fly,
As we ride – as we ride away!”
Through a California forest of monster trees our five boys were riding, and they sang as they rode, their voices blending beautifully and making the old woods echo with sweet music.
To them it seemed that all the perils of the trip were past and San Francisco was in view, although in truth, it was more than two hundred miles away by the route they would be compelled to follow.
It was a perfect day, with the sun shining from a cloudless sky, as it always seems to shine in California. It was warm, but not too hot for comfort, and the road through the forest was fairly good, winding to the right and then to the left beneath the shadows of the great trees.
“If this road wasn’t so crooked, we wouldn’t have to travel so far,” groaned Browning, his manner being so dismal that the others broke into a shout of laughter.
“You shouldn’t kick about this road,” smiled Frank. “I’ve seen a road much more crooked than this.”
“It must have been pretty crooked.”
“It was so crooked that when you started to ride on it you’d meet yourself coming back.”
“Yow!” whooped Rattleton. “That’s the worst I ever heard! A man should be put behind bars for perpetrating anything like that.”
“I don’t think I’d like to be put behind bars,” confessed Merry.
“Huah!” grunted Bruce. “There are others. Why, I know fellows who want to be in front of bars all the time.”
“You mean they drink incessantly?”
“No, I mean they drink whiskey.”
“Yah! yah! yah!” shouted Toots, his shrill laugh awaking the echoes. “Nebber heard Mistah Brownin’ say nuffin’ funny as dat befo’! Dat teks de cake!”
“I wouldn’t mind taking a small cake,” said the big fellow. “This California air makes me hungry.”
“Land ob wartermillions! yo’s alwus hungry, Mistah Brownin’, sar. Yo’s been eatin’ all de way ’crost de country.”
“That’s right,” was Browning’s confession. “And there was one strip of country where they didn’t seem to have anything to eat but corn beef and cabbage. I actually ate so much corn beef and cabbage that I was ashamed to look a cow in the face.”
“Well, we’ll soon be in San Francisco, the greatest city in all this Western land,” put in Frank. “There we can get almost any kind of feed we like. Why, I know a restaurant where we’ll be able to get ‘genuine Boston baked beans.’”
“You know a place?” questioned Diamond. “You know? Look here, Frank Merriwell, what is there you don’t know about? Have you been everywhere and seen everything?”
“Not by a long distance, but I have been in San Francisco.”
“Well, it seems to me that we never mention a place that you don’t know all about. You were perfectly familiar with Carson City.”
“Yes, I had been there before, and it is a place I shall not soon forget, for it was there I last saw my old chum of Fardale, Bart Hodge.”
“You have spoken of him often of late.”
“Yes; I have been thinking of him very much. It is natural, as I am near where I saw him last. Dear old fellow! How we fought in the old days when we first met! And, after that, what firm friends we became! Hodge had his failings, but he was white at heart. He would lay down his life for a friend. His parents were wealthy, and they had indulged him in everything he desired, till he was completely spoiled and they could do nothing with him. Fardale was noted as a place where just such fellows were taken and broken into the traces, and so his father sent him there. Hodge didn’t do a thing at first – oh, no! not a thing! He raised merry thunder, and he hated me with a virulent hatred. He tried to injure me in every way he could devise, but when I pulled him out of several bad scrapes, incidentally saving his life, he began to see that he was in the wrong. He had a fierce battle to overcome his natural inclination to do dirty things, but overcome it he did, and he became fairly popular in time, although no one knew him and understood him like myself. Between us there was a perfect understanding, and I could control him when he would not listen to reason from any other person.”
“I believe you were stuck on Hodge!” said Diamond, somewhat piqued.
“No more than I am on any of my true friends,” answered Frank.
“It seems you put yourself to lots of trouble with him.”
“I did; but I fancied there was the making of a fine man in him, and I felt that it was a shame to see a chap go to the dogs. Several times he came near being fired from Fardale, for they could do nothing with him. If he had been fired, his father would have forced him to hustle for himself. With a boy of Hodge’s nature that must have meant ruin, as he would have fallen in with fast companions, would have required money, and would have obtained it by some means or other. If his companions had been crooked, Hodge, although his nature would have rebelled against anything dishonest, would have become crooked also. He told me that, and he said I was his good angel.”
“Hang it, Merry!” spluttered Rattleton; “you’ve been a good angel for lots of us. It seems that every fellow who sticks by you gets on better than he ever did before.”
“I’m a mascot,” laughed Frank. “Follow me and you’ll wear diamonds – or something else.”
“There’s no doubt about it,” grunted Browning. “We’ll be arrested if we don’t. Can’t go naked in this country.”
“Yah!” cried Toots. “Don’ yo’ try so hard to say somefin’ funny, Mistah Brownin’, fo’ dat is where yo’ meks a mistook, sar. Yo’ falls do’n on yo’se’f, an’ yo’ don’ get funny at all.”
“Thanks, my colored counsellor,” murmured the big fellow. “You have a shocking habit of giving advice when it isn’t asked. I wouldn’t do it so much if I were you.”
“Choke off, Toots,” advised Frank.
“All right, sar – all right,” muttered the colored boy; “but I knows what I knows – yes, sar. It done do some of de crowd good if dey took mah advice, sar.”
The boys admired the trees and the weather, and they were supremely happy. All were hearty and healthy, with muscles as hard as iron and eyes clear as the eagle’s.
Browning, although still stout and sturdy, had worked himself down to a hard, healthy condition, and was really a stunningly handsome fellow. There was about him a suggestion of great strength, and almost any man might have hesitated about facing him in anger.
As Merriwell was one who constantly kept himself in perfect condition, it cannot be said that he was looking better than when the party left New York, although he, like the others, was tanned by exposure to all sorts of weather.
As the party came around a bend of the road, they saw another young bicyclist, who was standing beside his wheel, somewhat uneasily regarding their approach.
“Hello!” exclaimed Diamond. “Here’s a fellow traveler.”
Frank took off his cap and waved it about his head, but the stranger did not answer the salute.
“Some way he doesn’t seem at all pleased to see us,” said Rattleton.
“It may be the way with Californians,” said Diamond.
“Anyhow we’ll stop and ask him a few questions,” Merriwell said. “At least, he can’t refuse to answer us, if we are civil.”
So, as the boys came up, they slackened their speed and prepared to dismount. To their surprise the stranger made preparations to mount, as if he contemplated riding away if they stopped.
“He’s going to run away,” grunted Bruce, in disgust.
“Hold on,” urged Merriwell, addressing the stranger. “We want to talk with you.”
Then the boys sprang off their wheels.
To their surprise, the stranger suddenly held out his hand, almost shouting:
“It is Frank Merriwell, or my eyes can’t see straight!”
“Bart Hodge, as I live!” cried Frank, grasping the outstretched hand.
CHAPTER XIX. – BART HODGE MAKES A CONFESSION
It was Bart Hodge!
How they did shake hands! Strangely enough, neither of them laughed, but there was a look of joy on their faces that told of satisfaction and delight too great for laughter.
“Merriwell, old man,” said Hodge, his voice unsteady with emotion, “I can scarcely believe it is true! It seems too good to be true!”
“Hodge!” exclaimed Frank, “there is fate in this. I was speaking of you not more than ten minutes ago.”
“Speaking of me?”
“Sure.”
“Then you had not forgotten me?”
“Forgotten you?” came reproachfully from Frank – “you should know I am not the kind of fellow to forget my friends.”
“That’s right,” nodded Bart, quickly; “you always did stick to your friends through thick and thin.”
“Yes, through thick and thin, old chum.”
“But it is most astonishing to see you away out here in this part of the country. Where did you drop from?”
“Oh, we are on a little run across the country,” smiled Merry. “We started from New York, and we’re bound for San Francisco. Permit me to introduce my friends.”
Then he presented the others of the party in turn, and Bart shook hands with them all, expressing his satisfaction at meeting them, but seeming rather reserved and uneasy. Frank observed that Hodge turned his head to glance down the road now and then as if expecting the appearance of some one or something.
“So you’re Hart Bodge – I mean Bart Hodge?” said Harry, as he was introduced. “Well, I’m glad to know you. Merry has talked about you ever since I first met him at Yale. He has told everything about you.”
“If that is true, I’m afraid you have not formed a very good opinion of me,” said Hodge, somewhat gloomily.
“On the contrary, I have formed a very good opinion of you,” assured Rattleton.
“Then it can’t be Merry has told you everything.”
Frank was not a little surprised by Bart’s manner, for Hodge had been a fellow who could not easily suppress his self-conceit, and it had always been his desire to impress strangers with the idea that he was something quite out of the ordinary.
A vague feeling that something was wrong with Bart seized upon Merriwell.
“You’re not well, old man,” he said. “I know it. Don’t say you are.”
“Never was better in all my life.”
“But something is the trouble – I can see that.”
“Oh, no!” assured Bart; “you are mistaken, I assure you.”
But, for all of these words, Frank was not satisfied, as Bart’s manner had plainly betrayed the fact that he was trying to conceal something.
“Which way are you traveling?” Frank asked.
“East.”
“Too bad! We are going the other way, and I hoped you’d go along.”
“Oh, no! it is impossible,” Hodge quickly asserted.
“Business important?”
“Well, it is – er – somewhat so.”
“Where are you from last?”
“Oh, I’ve been traveling – yes, traveling,” answered Bart, vaguely.
“Now, look here!” cried Merry, decisively; “you’ve got to travel with us, old man. I won’t take no for an answer, for I believe you can do it. You’ll turn about and go to San Francisco with us.”
“That’s right; come on,” cried the others.
Bart shook his head.
“Can’t do it – I can’t. You don’t know – I can’t explain – now.”
“Do you think this is using me just right?” asked Frank, reproachfully. “You’ll find us a jolly crowd, and we’ll have dead loads of sport. We’ve made a quick run across, and we can take our time going back. None of the fellows are obliged to hurry home. Come along with us, Bart, and we’ll do you good.”
Something like a smile flitted over Hodge’s serious face.
“You are the same old Merriwell,” he said. “It has done me good to see you a little while, Frank.”
“It will do you more good to see me longer, and it’ll do me good to have you come with me. Come along.”
Bart wavered. It was plain enough that he longed to go, but, for some reason, he hesitated.
Frank passed an arm about Hodge’s shoulders, saying, gently but firmly:
“You’ve got to do it; you can’t get out of it, old chum.”
A wave of feeling fled across Hodge’s face, and there was something like a suspicious quiver of his sensitive chin.
“You do not understand,” he slowly murmured. “I’d like to have a talk with you, Frank. I – I might tell you – ”
“That’s right,” said Harry, heartily. “Old friends like you chaps want a chance to talk over old matters and things. Excuse us. We’re going to find a chance to stretch our weary limbs on the ground. Browning has an attack of that tired feeling, and he will fall asleep in his tracks if he doesn’t recline without delay.”
“Huah!” grunted Bruce.
Then the boys withdrew, leaving Hodge and Merriwell together.
Bart seemed embarrassed and uneasy. He glanced at Frank slyly, as if in doubt, which Merry did not fail to note, although pretending not to observe it.
They sat down near the foot of a monster tree, against which they could lean in a comfortable position as they chatted. The great forest of redwood trees was all about them, and a Sabbath peace brooded over the gentle slope of the Sierras.
“Well, Bart,” said Frank, insinuatingly, “I trust things are going well with you?”
A sudden change came over Hodge. A fierce look of rage came to his face and his eyes blazed, while his voice was harsh and unpleasant, as he cried:
“Things are not going well with me! Everything has gone wrong! Oh, I’ve had infernal luck! I know I was born under an unlucky star, and the only time I ever did get along was when you and I were together at Fardale.”
“Then stick by me, and change your luck again.”
“I’d like to do it, but you are going the wrong way.”
“What’s the odds? There is no reason why you should not turn back and – ”
“There is a reason.”
“Of course I do not know about that, but – ”
“Listen, Frank; you remember Isa Isban?”
“Yes, and Vida Milburn, Isa’s half-sister, with whom you were in love. I distinctly remember that Vida was a beautiful and charming girl.”
Hodge’s teeth ground together with a nerve-tingling, grating sound, and his face was set as stone, although his eyes still blazed.
“Yes, a beautiful girl – a charming girl!” he admitted, but with sarcasm that could not be mistaken.
“What’s the matter? Where is Vida now?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care a rap!”
“Oh, say! I think I tumble. It is a case of lovers’ quarrel. Now, now, now! Don’t be foolish, my boy! It will come out all right. You know true love persistently refuses to run smooth. You’ll make it all up in time.”
Hodge grinned, but there was nothing of mirth in the expression. It seemed to Frank as if some wild animal had shown its teeth.
“Oh, yes, it will come out all right!” he sneered. “We’ll make it all up in time! It’s too late, Merriwell.”
“You think so, that’s all.”
“I know so. She’s married!”
Frank gasped.
“Married?”
“Yes.”
“Married? Why, she is a mere girl! And you – where do you come in?”
“I’m not in it, and I think I’m lucky. That’s not worrying me.”
“But how – how did it happen? Why did you throw her over? or why did she go back on you?”
“I’m not going to tell the whole story now, Frank; but the fact is that she lacked faith in me. I rather think I’m dead lucky to get out of it, for she was rather weak and fickle. You know her half-sister, Isa Isban, although stunningly handsome, is wild and reckless. She was married to a gambler and maker of crooked money.”
“But he is dead – was shot, and Isa disappeared.”
“Well, she has reappeared, but I’ll tell you about that later. It’s Vida I wish to tell you about now. You know Vida’s old uncle and aunt never did have a high opinion of me.”
“Not till they discovered that you were a brave and honorable fellow. Then they seemed to turn about and think you one of the finest chaps in the world.”
“They got over it,” Hodge sneered. “They came to think me anything but brave and honorable. They believed me a drunkard, a gambler and a thief!”
Frank was shocked, and he showed it.
“Impossible!” he cried. “How could they think such a thing of you? They had no reason to think so!”
Bart turned crimson till it extended all over his face and neck.
“You don’t know, Merry,” he muttered, positively showing shame. “I’m not like you – I make a bad break sometimes. It is hard for me to resist temptation, and – well, I was tempted, and I succumbed. That’s all.”
“Succumbed? What do you mean? I know your heart is right, old fellow, and you did not do anything wrong intentionally.”
“Appearances were against me – I confess it. First – well, I was seen drunk. That is, I seemed to be drunk, but I swear to you that I had not taken but one drink, and that was not enough to knock out a ten-year-old boy. It was drugged, Frank – I know it!”
“Drugged? Who did such a villainous trick?”
“My enemy – a young fellow who loved Vida. He has a father who’s got the rocks. He’s older than I, and I thought him my friend. I met him at her home. His name is Hart Davis.”
“The whelp! But did Vida see you?”
“Yes. I had been out with Davis that night. In the morning I was found on the steps of Vida’s home, apparently dead drunk.”
“How came you there?”
“I didn’t know at the time. Since then – well, it is settled in my mind. Davis said I left him to go to the place where I was boarding in Carson City. He said I seemed to be all right when I left him, and so he let me go. He appeared very shocked to think such a misfortune had happened me: but – burn him! – I believe he gave me knock-out drops – I believe he carried me to that house – I believe he left me on the steps, where I was found!”
Frank’s eyes were blazing now, and the look on his expressive face told how he felt toward Mr. Hart Davis.
“And did Vida throw you over for that?” he asked, in an indignant manner.
“Not entirely for that. She was very shocked and cold toward me, but when I was arrested – ”
“Arrested?” gasped Frank. “Arrested for what?”
“For stealing a watch.”
CHAPTER XX. – FRANK BECOMES ALARMED
“For stealing?”
Frank’s astonishment was so great that he found it difficult to utter the words.
“Yes,” nodded Bart, gloomily, “for stealing a watch.”
“But – but I know you never did such a – The man who would think such a thing ought to be shot!”
“The watch was found on my person,” said Bart, slowly.
“Found on you, was it? I don’t care! I know you didn’t steal it. Nothing could make me believe that.”
A gleam of satisfaction seemed to pierce the fierce look on Hodge’s face, as a shaft of sunshine sometimes pierces a black and sullen cloud.
“You are right, Merriwell,” he said; “I did not steal it. Give me your hand. Oh, it is good – so good to have some one in the world who has confidence in me! It has seemed of late that everybody was down on me.”
He grasped Frank’s hand, and pressed it warmly.
“You have been up against hard luck, old friend,” came feelingly from Frank. “And the girl shook you quite after you were arrested?”
“Yes.”
“Were you tried?”
“Yes.”
“Convicted?”
“No.”
“Still she threw you over?”
“She did.”
“Well, you are dead lucky! Such a girl is not worth thinking about! Don’t let that break you up, Hodge.”
“Wait,” said Bart. “I have not told you all.”
“Go on.”
“I was arrested in one of the most notorious gambling houses in Carson.”
It was plain that the confession cost Hodge much, for his shame was evident, and he hastily added:
“Give it to me, Merriwell! I deserve it! Blow me up!”
“I shall do nothing of the kind,” said Frank, slowly, “although I am very sorry to hear what you have told me. Were you in that house to play?”
“Yes.”
“That is the bad part of it, for you know you can’t let gambling alone once you get at it. I had hoped you were free of your old bad habits.”
“You never hoped so more than I!” cried Bart. “But it’s no use – I can’t reform. Davis induced me to go to the gambling house, and then he dropped me like a live coal when I was pinched.”
“But you said they proved nothing against you.”
“No, they could not prove anything, for I proved that I bought the watch of a young man who offered it to me at a bargain. That cleared me of that charge.”
“But Vida Milburn threw you down just as hard?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you see, I was arrested in a gambling house while playing roulette. She had seen me when I appeared to be drunk. That was enough. Even though I did not steal, I drank and gambled. Her aunt forbade her seeing me. She sent back my presents, and told me we must become as strangers. Two months later she married Hart Davis.”
Frank’s hand fell on the shoulder of his old-time friend.
“It was hard luck, Hodge,” he said, in a straightforward manner, “and you were not entirely blameless. At the same time, it is certain that girl did not care for you as she should, and she might have made you miserable if you had won her. The girl who really loves a fellow will believe in him and his honor till there is not a single tattered remnant of his reputation to which she can pin her faith. I tell you, old chum, you may congratulate yourself that you got off as you did.”
“I have tried to do so,” said Hodge, “and I resolved to be a man and forget her. But it was harder to forget than I dreamed, and then, when I was beginning to forget, that other came upon me again.”
“That other? What other?”
“Her half-sister.”
“Isa Isban?”
“Yes.”
“You met Isa?”
“In Sacramento.”
“And she looks as she did long ago – just as handsome?”
“A hundred times more so!” cried Bart, his eyes kindling and a flush suffusing his cheeks. “Merriwell, she is the handsomest girl I ever knew!”
Frank whistled, regarding Bart searchingly and uneasily.
“What’s this? what’s this?” he exclaimed. “What has she been doing with you? Why, hang me if I don’t believe – I know you were hard hit by her!”
“I was,” confessed Bart, flushing still more. “When I first saw her I thought her Vida, but she seemed to have grown more beautiful than ever, and I could not help looking at her. Then I discovered there was a difference – I saw it was not Vida but Isa. When I spoke to her she remembered me, and then – well, we became very friendly. I told her everything, and she laughed. She said Vida was too soft for anything – said the old aunt made Vida do anything she wished, and the girl hadn’t spirit enough to do as she desired. She said she would stick to a fellow if she loved him even though he were jailed for twenty years. There was spirit, dash, go about her, Merriwell! She fascinated me. I saw in her what I had missed in Vida.”
Frank shook his head in a very sober manner.
“My dear fellow,” he said, “do you remember Isa had a husband?”
“Yes, but he is dead,” said Bart, quickly.
“I know that; but do you remember the sort of fellow he was?”
“Of course; he was a counterfeiter.”
“Exactly, and Isa ‘shoved the queer’ for him. She didn’t do a thing to me the first time we met. I changed a fifty-dollar bill for her, and when I tried to pass the bill I came near being arrested. You remember that?”
“Sure.”
“I hardly think that is the sort of girl you wish to get stuck on, old boy.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Bart, rather defiantly. “She stuck to her husband through thick and thin, and I think all the more of her for it.”
Frank was alarmed.
“My dear fellow,” he cried, “you are an easy mark. That girl is shrewd – altogether too shrewd for you to match your wits against hers. She will play you for a fool – I am sure of it.”
Bart reddened again and then turned very pale, his manner indicating great embarrassment. He drew from Frank a bit, and something in his air added to Merriwell’s alarm.
“I hope you haven’t been very friendly with Isa Isban,” Frank said.
“I might have been more friendly, but she had a foolish idea that it would injure me if I were seen with her often.”
“She had such an idea?”
“Yes; and that goes to show the girl’s heart is all right. She had consideration for me.”
Frank bit his lip and scowled.
“It is remarkable,” he confessed. “Are you sure it was out of consideration for you that she did not wish you seen with her?”
“Sure? Of course.”
“It seems strange. It seems that the kind of life she has led with that reckless coiner husband would be sure to make her careless of others – make her hard and heartless.”
“It is not strange you think so, Merriwell; but it is because you do not know her. I honor and respect her for standing by her husband, even when she knew he was a rascal, and I believe she has a heart and soul a thousand times more noble than the heart and soul of her half-sister.”
“Bad, bad!” exclaimed Frank. “Look here, Bart, you must go along with me. That is settled. Isa Isban will ruin you if you do not escape from her influence.”
A look of indignation settled on Hodge’s face, and he drew away.
“If you knew her well, Frank, I would not pardon you for saying that about her; but, as you know nothing about her, I will overlook it. But, old fellow, please don’t speak of Miss Isban in that way.”
“Miss Isban? Her name is Mrs. Scott; her husband’s name was Paul Scott.”
“I know, but she has resumed her maiden name since his death. She calls herself Miss Isban now. You should see her, Merriwell. She looks like a sweet girl graduate – a girl of eighteen, and – ”
“She must be twenty-one or two.”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. She does not look it, and I believe she is a splendid girl. I honor and respect her.”
“Great Scott!” thought Frank; “Hodge is in the greatest peril of his life! I am sure of it. I am sure that girl will work his utter downfall if he is not saved from her influence. It is my duty to find a way to save him. I will!”
When Frank made up his mind to do a thing, he bent all his energies to accomplish the end. In the past Hodge had been easily influenced, but he felt sure Isa Isban had a hold on the lad that could not be broken with ease. The task must be accomplished by clever work.
“Where is she now?” Merry asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t? How is that?”
“Well, you see, I – I left Sacramento rather – rather suddenly,” faltered Bart.
“Suddenly? Explain it, old chum. Why did you leave Sacramento suddenly? I trust you did not get into trouble there?”
Hodge ground his heel into the ground, seeming quite occupied in digging a hole in that manner. Suddenly he started and listened.
“A horse is coming this way – up the trail!” he exclaimed. “It is coming at a hot pace, as if hard ridden.”
“Let it come. That needn’t bother us. Answer my questions, Bart. You know I am your friend, and there should be perfect trust and no secrets between close friends.”
But Hodge did not seem to hear those words. He was listening to the hoofbeats of the galloping horse, and his face had grown pale.
“Look here, Merriwell,” he hastily exclaimed, “the rider of that horse may be a person I do not care to meet.”
Bart got up hastily, and Frank arose, saying:
“You needn’t be afraid of him. The other boys are good fighters, and there is no single man in this country that can do you up while you are with this crowd. We will stand by you.”
“It’s not that; you don’t understand. I must not be seen. I’ll get out of sight, and you must bluff him off, if he asks about me. That’s all. Here he comes!”
A glimpse of the horseman was obtained as he flitted along between the great trees.
Immediately Hodge slipped behind a tree, and lost no time in getting out of view.
The horseman came on swiftly, and the boys saw that he was a large man with a grizzled beard that had once been coal black. He was roughly dressed, with his pantaloons tucked into his boots.
As he approached the man eyed the boys closely. Close at hand he drew up, saying in a harsh voice:
“Wa-al, who are you, and whatever are yer doing here?”
