CHAPTER XXXIX.THE GHOSTLY FACE.
“’St, Brad!”
The Texan stopped in his tracks as a dark figure stepped out before him. Brad had just left the pier, having told Lynch, Ditson, and Du Boise what he thought of them and what he meant to do.
A queer, quivery sensation shot along Buckhart’s spine. He stood quite still and stared at the dark figure which promptly strode toward him.
“Don’t raise a shout, old man,” said the voice of Dick Merriwell. “Don’t let those fellows hear you. It is I.”
Brad deliberately pinched himself to make sure he was awake.
“It sounds like you, and it looks like you,” he said, “but it can’t be you. You’re drowned!”
“Hardly,” said Merriwell, as he dropped a hand on the shoulder of his chum. “But I want those fellows still to think I’m drowned. I’m in hopes it will worry them some. That’s why I didn’t let you know I hadn’t gone to the bottom.”
Realizing at last that Merriwell was there in the flesh, the Texan suddenly caught Dick’s wet figure in his arms and gave him a bear hug.
“Oh, great horn spoon, I’ve got to yell!” he panted. “If I don’t, I’ll sure blow up. Say, partner, can’t I yell just once? Can’t I let off steam a little? Gophers and jack rabbits, I thought you were dead! Oh, say, what a funny feeling I’ve got! I don’t know how to express it. Hang it all, didn’t you know I was searching for you with the rest of the bunch? Didn’t you realize how I felt about it? Partner, I wouldn’tgo through that thing again for fifty thousand dollars! I sure reckoned you were food for the fishes.”
The Texan’s voice was quivering with emotion, and he trembled in every limb.
“It was rough on you,” agreed Dick, “and perhaps I’m mistaken in thinking it will disturb those rascals to fancy me done for. Let’s wait here until they pass. We can tell by what they are saying whether they are disturbed or not.”
Hidden in the narrow space between two of the old buildings, the boys waited until the trio of rascals came along and passed on their way. Falling in behind but taking pains not to be seen, Dick and Brad followed the three to the first saloon and from thence to Fred’s place of business.
“They’ve taken a private room,” said Brad, after peering between the swinging doors. “They’ve gone upstairs, partner. I reckon they intend to drown their remorse with plenty of booze. If you should appear before them now, they’d certain think you a spook.”
Dick laughed softly.
“I have a fancy to play the spook,” he said. “Come with me.”
In a near-by restaurant he purchased a few cents’ worth of flour, which was given him in a paper bag. Slipping this into his pocket, he led the way back to Fred’s.
There were a very few patrons in Fred’s as the boys entered. Spofford, a sophomore, was leaning lurchingly on the bar and telling a story. Two or three of Spofford’s chums were with him. The barkeeper was listening and the waiter was opening a barrel in the back room. No one paid any attention to Dick and Brad, who sauntered through and quietly ascended the stairs.
There were two rooms above. Listening, Merriwellsoon learned which of these was occupied by the fellows he hoped to frighten. Having located them, he brought forth the bag of flour, which he proceeded to smear over his face until his features were well coated with it.
“Do I look rather ghostly, Brad?” he whispered.
“Your face looks that way,” softly chuckled the Texan, “but there’s nothing very ghostly about the rest of you.”
“Then I’ll show only my face,” decided Dick. “Here’s the panel through which drinks are passed into that room.”
“They shouldn’t see you in too strong a light,” murmured Brad.
Merriwell’s fingers found the switch and turned it. This cut off all the lights in the upper part of the building.
“That’s too much,” he whispered quickly. “Turn off that one over your head, Brad. Hurry up.”
There was a faint click, and the Texan announced that he had found the electric bulb and turned off the current. Then Dick softly pushed back the panel and manipulated the electrical switch. He did not turn it on at once, but moved it gradually, getting the result hoped for as the lights glowed dimly at first.
The startled fellows within that room saw the white, ghastly face at the open panel and Du Boise shrieked and fell to the floor in a faint. Dick closed the panel at once.
“Skip, Brad!” he hissed. “We must make a sudden duck.”
Spofford and his friends had left, and only the barkeeper was found in the lower room.
“What’s that yell I heard?” he asked, as the boys appeared.
“Nothing but a little practical joke,” said Dick, ashe mopped the flour from his face with his handkerchief. “Those fellows upstairs are hitting the booze too hard. It’s time they swore off. They may think they’ve seen a ghost. Perhaps you’ll help them reform if you fail to undeceive them.”
“Don’t say a word,” said Brad, tossing a silver dollar on the bar.
“You sure gave those gents something of a start, partner,” said Brad, as they hurried away.
“I think I did,” agreed Merriwell. “You should have seen them, Brad. Their eyes stuck out of their heads. Du Boise collapsed like a pricked bladder. It was really amusing. I’ve been well paid for the ducking I received.”
“Perhaps you have!” growled the Texan. “But I’ve got a bill to settle with those gents. They still have to pay me for mySallie, and you bet your life I’ll make them cough up. You hear me gently chirp!”