CHAPTER XX.THE CAPTURE.

CHAPTER XX.THE CAPTURE.

"Spy! spy!" cried the boys, jumping up and rushing back.

Dick yanked the fellow out in a hurry.

"Come out here, you sneak!" he exclaimed hotly. "Let us have a look at you!"

"Be careful," warned the spy angrily. "You’ll tear my clothes."

"They ought to be torn!" retorted Dick. "You should have them torn off your back!"

Then the fellow struck at Dick, who dodged the blow. The spy tried to break away and seek some means of escape, for he realized that the Fardale players were certain to be furiously angry.

"Let me get at him!" roared Brad Buckhart. "He’ll think he’s been run over by a stampeded bunch of longhorns!"

"Give me a chance!" came from Bob Singleton. "I want to thump him once!"

But Frank Merriwell leaped in and checked their furious assault on the fellow.

"Stop!" he said sharply. "Let’s have a look at him. Let’s see who he is."

But the fellow did not fancy being looked at, and he made another lunge to break from Dick, althoughhe would have found it difficult to escape from the room had he succeeded in that plunge.

"No, you don’t!" exclaimed young Merriwell. "Be still, sneak!"

"Don’t you call me ‘sneak’!" panted the spy, as he succeeded in hitting Dick a glancing blow on the cheek.

That was where he made a mistake. It was like a flint striking steel in a powder-mill. Quick as a flash, Dick hit the spy a blow under the ear, lifting him and dropping him prostrate at the upper end of an aisle.

Frank Merriwell caught the chap by the collar and stood him up, at the same time thrusting back with a sweep of the arm Brad Buckhart, who was trying to get in a blow.

"Steady down!" commanded Merry. "Let’s inspect him and hear what he has to say for himself."

Then he pinned the fellow against the wall, and they crowded around.

"He’s not a Fardale man," said Steve Nunn.

"Who knows him?" demanded Frank.

"He’s a stranger," said Burrows. "Doesn’t belong here."

"I’m glad of that," came from Merry.

"You fellows are too fresh!" exclaimed the spy, with pretended indignation. "Can’t a person look round your old academy without being mobbed like this?"

"You were looking round?"

"Yes."

"What were you doing in here?"

"Just happened to drop in."

Dick Merriwell laughed.

"A silly excuse," he said.

"I’d like a chance to settle with you!" declared the stranger hotly. "I’d make you laugh out of the other side of your mouth!"

"Bet you can’t do it!" came quickly from Dick. "Let him go, Frank! Let him take his coat off! I’d like to have it out with him! I’d like to give him what he deserves!"

"Yes, let me!" urged the spy just as eagerly. "I’ll agree to lick that fellow in one minute!"

"Why, you poor, onery scrub!" exclaimed Buckhart, "he’d knock the hay out of you in about ten seconds! You don’t know what you’re talking about! That’s Dick Merriwell, and I allow he can whip four times his weight in mountain lions!"

"I don’t care who he is! He hit me, and I’ll settle with him for that!"

"Stop that fighting-talk now," ordered Frank Merriwell, "and explain how you happened to be in this room."

"Why, I just walked in. Saw the door open and sauntered in."

"What for?"

"To look at the place."

"Mighty interesting place to look at!" sneered the Texan Maverick incredulously.

"What were you doing under that bench?"

"Nothing in particular."

"Listening?"

"Well, I couldn’t help hearing what you were saying, though that didn’t amount to much."

"Of course, he’s a spy," said Elmer Dow. "That’s how he happened to be here. He was here to find out about that new play and to get onto the signals."

"Do you deny that?" asked Frank of the captive.

"Of course, I deny everything," answered the fellow defiantly. "What are you going to do about it?"

He showed his teeth in a sneering smile.

At this moment Dick Merriwell brought out something he had discovered beneath the desk where the fellow had been.

"Look here!" he exclaimed. "A pad and pencil. He’s got the signals scrawled here on the pad! He was taking them down!"

Then there was a moment of silence, followed by an angry murmur from the Fardale men, which grew louder and louder.

"Spy!"

"Sneak! sneak!"

"Dirty dog!"

"Onery coyote!"

"Give it to him!"

But for Frank Merriwell he must have received rough treatment then and there.

"It’s proof enough against him," said Steve Nunn. "It’s useless for him to try to lie out of it now."

The fellow decided to be defiant.

"What are you going to do about it?" he brazenly asked.

"Somebody helped him get in here," Dick declared. "He was told when we were to meet here! He was helped by a traitor in our own camp!"

"I’m afraid that’s right," said Dow regretfully.

"Of course, it’s right! He won’t deny it."

"I won’t deny anything," said the captive. "What’s the use?"

"Well, I’d like to get my paws onto that traitor!" broke forth Buckhart. "I’d kick him into shoestrings! You hear me shout!"

"Make him tell who it is," suggested Burrows.

"Yes, go ahead and make me!" laughed the spy defiantly.

"Bring him out here where I can get a good look at him," urged Don Kent. "I believe I know him."

So the captive was pulled out to a spot where the light from the windows fell on his face.

"Sure thing!" cried Kent. "I know him! Some of you others ought to know him, too."

"Who is he?"

"Phil Cranch, Viewland’s left end last year."

"Cranch?" cried several. "It is!"

"Well, if you’re not a peach!" came scornfully from Big Bob, as he glared at the captive. "You should be ashamed of yourself! I’d want to go die if I’d been caught this way."

"Viewland must consider the case pretty desperate when it resorts to this kind of business," said Frank Merriwell.

"Don’t blame the team," said Cranch quickly. "I did it on my own accord, and none of the rest knows anything about it."

"You ought to be proud of the trick," grumbled Big Bob. "I suppose you regard this as square sport?"

"Square or not," said the spy, "we don’t propose to let Fardale beat us this year."

"I’ll bet you anything you like we do beat you!" flashed Dick Merriwell. "All you’ve found out here won’t do you any good."

"Oh, I don’t know. You can change your code of signals, but you won’t be able to use your fancy ‘ends-around’ play against us. We’ll have something to offset that, all right."

"Do you think we’re going to let you go back and carry your information to your old team?"

"I don’t see how you can help it."

"Don’t you?"

"No."

"Well, you’re going to find out."

Cranch laughed.

"You worry me," he sneered.

"What do you say, fellows," came from Dick Merriwell, as he appealed to the others, "are we going to let this fellow off, to carry all he has discovered back to his team for Viewland to use the information against us?"

And it seemed that every man appealed to answered in a breath:

"No!"

Cranch laughed again, in the same derisive, defiant way.

"I’d like to know what you think you can do?" he said.

"We’ll show you!"

"You can only turn me over to the authorities. They may fancy there is a case against me for some trivial charge, but what does that amount to? I did not break and enter. This is a recitation-room, not a residence. If I am held, I fancy I can readily obtain bail. Now, will you be good?"

The spy seemed to think he had the best of it.

"Oh, we won’t turn him over to the authorities!" exclaimed Dick Merriwell, at once.

"Hardly that!" came from several of the others.

About this time Frank Merriwell decided that itwas best for him to withdraw and let the others settle what they would do with the captive.

"Do not offer him any bodily injury," advised Frank. "I find I have urgent business that must be given attention."

He laughed, and they understood him. He was giving them the opportunity to dispose of Cranch as they saw fit. Cranch understood this, too, and he appealed to Frank.

"Hold on, Mr. Merriwell!" he cried. "You have no right to leave me this way. You saw them attempt to mob me, and——"

"I really think you deserve to be mobbed," returned Frank, with perfect coolness. "At the same time, I counsel against anything of the sort. A chap of your stripe, Mr. Cranch, does not deserve protection when he gets into a scrape. You’ve got nerve, it seems; well, let your nerve stand by you now, for I decline to bother with you longer. It is true that I have business elsewhere."

Some one unlocked the door for him, and he departed, leaving the spy in the hands of his angry captors.

The moment Frank was gone, Brad Buckhart again proposed doing physical violence to Cranch. But now Dick Merriwell seemed to take the lead, and he intervened.

"No," he said, "we’ll not lower ourselves by jumping on him; but we must find a way to prevent him from carrying tales to his team. Now, how is that to be done?"

That was a serious question.

"We might drown him," suggested Big Bob. "They say that is a very easy death, and so we could not be accused of violence."

"It really will not do to let him loose," said Elmer Dow.

"Then," spoke Dick, "the only thing to be done is to keep him a captive."

"That’s right."

"Till after the game Saturday."

"Good scheme!"

"Who agrees?" asked Dick.

"I! I! I!" came from all sides.

The spy saw they were in earnest, and he began to grow anxious.

"Oh, you can’t mean that!" he said. "Why, that would be an unlawful piece of business."

"Don’t talk to us about the law, you duffer!" rumbled Singleton.

"Thank your luck you’re not in the Rio Pecos Valley," said Buckhart. "They’d hang you in the first chaparral out there."

"And serve him right, too!" exclaimed Captain Nunn.

"I promise you I shall give you the full extent of the law if you forcibly detain me," threatened Cranch.

"Go ’way back and sit down!" said Burrows. "We’ll take our chances with the law."

"And you’ll show yourself up as a pretty poor pup before the case is over if you resort to the law," said Buckhart.

"It’s getting dark," said Dick. "We can run him out of here, but where shall we take him?"

"The Meadow Barn," suggested some one.

"Good place! First rate! But some of the fellows who do not understand about the affair might find him there and make trouble."

"I’ll be missed," said Cranch, "and they will search for me everywhere. You can’t keep me anywhere without getting into a scrape. Better drop this foolish piece of business."

"Save your breath," said Dick Merriwell. "You’re in for a period of imprisonment, and it’s no use to squirm. Can’t somebody think of a better place than the old barn?"

"The Dead Road Mill," said Don Kent. "That’s the place."

"That’s the place," agreed the others. "But it’s farther away than the barn."

"All the better."

"And the story that the old mill is haunted will keep people away from it," said Nunn. "He’s notlikely to be found there. We’ll have to set a guard over him."

"To the Dead Road Mill he goes," decided Dick Merriwell, who had assumed leadership without being disputed.

"I think I have something to say about that!" exclaimed Cranch. "I won’t go! You can’t make me!"

"Oh, I think we can!" said Big Bob. "That doesn’t worry us a bit."

"I’ll raise a disturbance! Do you think I’ll go without a fight? Well, you’ve made a mistake! I’ll yell for help now if you do not set me free at once! I’ll bring the faculty of the academy down upon you!"

They looked at one another, and then, of a sudden, as if by a single impulse, three of them leaped upon him. He was tripped and flung to the floor, being held there.

"Kneel on his arms!" commanded Dick Merriwell. "Hold his hands while I fix this!"

He had taken out a handkerchief.

"Help!" shouted Cranch, his voice echoing hollowly in the room.

Over his mouth the handkerchief was placed. He struggled to keep them from fastening it there, but two more knelt and held his head. Dick was skilful and rapid in his work. Soon the captive’s roars for help were muffled and smothered, but Dick calledfor another handkerchief, which he bound over the first.

Cranch began to realize that he was in a decidedly serious scrape, and he grew frightened at last.

"Bring cords of some kind," commanded Dick. "We’ve got to tie his hands behind him, to keep him from snatching the gag away from his mouth."

It was not long before the captive’s hands were securely fastened behind his back. Then they lifted him and stood him on his feet. By this time it had grown quite dark in the room.

"Now," said Merriwell, "two of you fellows saunter out and see when the coast is clear. Give us the signal, and we’ll run him out round the building, get him back of the gym, and carry him off across the field."

It was strange that none of them thought of rebelling against accepting this plebe as their leader, and the team was made up of men in every class; but during the past few weeks Dick had made a record that seemed to indicate his right to be a leader, and, in the excitement of the moment, the fact that he was a plebe did not count against him.

As directed, two of them went out and looked around. Pretty soon one of them slipped back and hissed at the door.

"Come on, quick!" he said. "Now is our time."

Cranch made one more feeble attempt to resist, butthey packed about him, grasping his arms, and he was carried forward. Out through the hall, down the steps, and round the corner hastily went that mass of lads, bearing the captive spy in their midst. They did not pause, rushing round the gymnasium, and soon they were quite a distance away from the buildings.

No sentry paced the path across the field at this season of the year, and they escaped without being challenged or stopped. Not till they were far away, however, did they pause for a breathing-spell.

"Talk about rustling cattle!" exclaimed Buckhart, in a low tone. "Well, this must be something like it, though I allow I never took part in that kind of a game."

"Will you agree to keep quiet if we take the handkerchiefs off?" asked Dick of Cranch.

The captive nodded.

"All right," said Merriwell. "Off they come."

But barely were they removed than the spy raised a wild shout for help.

They flung themselves on Cranch again, soon gagging him more securely than before.

"Might have known I could not trust him!" muttered Dick. "Come on, fellows; let’s get him away from here."

And soon they had vanished into a fringe of dark woods, where a lonesome owl was hooting now and then.


Back to IndexNext