CHAPTER XIII.IN THE TRAP.
The astounded man expected to see the college youth flung headlong to the ground, but to his still greater amazement, Frank landed fairly on the back of the horse, where he clung with perfect ease.
But not a moment was to be lost, for they were close upon the old negro, who was vainly trying to rein his horse out of the road. Still, Frank Merriwell did not seem at all nervous or excited. With a swift, sure grasp he caught both the reins and then he turned the madly running horses to one side.
Just in time. One of the carriage hubs clicked against the car as they whirled past. But a catastrophe had been averted for the time, at least.
Jack Cunningham stared as the “college chap” clung to the galloping horses, drawing strong and sure on the reins, and talking in soothing tones to the badly frightened animals.
It was a revelation to Cunningham, but he had no hope that the youth would be able to handle and stop the runaways.
However, although not seeming to be making great efforts to stop them, Merriwell continued to talk to the terrified creatures, his voice rhythmical, soothing, and pleasant.
For a considerable distance the runaways continued at their mad pace, but at last they began to slacken little by little, reassured and checked by that soothing voice.
And so, watched by the amazed man in the carriage, Frank slowly quieted them down until he was able to bring them to a halt upon the road, although they were trembling and nervous.
Merry had them by the heads the moment they stopped, having leaped to the ground.
Jack Cunningham jumped out of the wagon, declaring, in very picturesque language, that the trick had been well done.
“Yo’ must have been raised with hosses, young feller?” said the wondering ruffian.
“Not exactly,” said Frank, “but I have had some experience with them, and I have learned that no sensible man ever uses a whip on a horse without reason.”
“Do yo’ mean to call me a fool, youngster?”
“Well, I did not state it in exactly that language, but I think you were foolish to whip the horses in order to try to frighten me. That is plain.”
Cunningham glared at Merry, longing to put his hands on the cool youth who dared talk to him thus plainly.
“That’s sassy!” he growled.
“But it’s true, Mr. Muldoon.”
“Well, I don’t ’low everybody to tell me the truth, so yo’ had better be careful in the future.”
“As long as it is my misfortune to be in your society, I shall not hesitate to tell you the truth, sir.”
Frank was gently stroking the muzzles of the horses and patting their necks while he talked, and the animals became calmer and calmer beneath his touch.
“Well, yo’ are a mighty queer chap!” blurted Cunningham, who was beginning to realize that he did not understand Merriwell at all.
“Splice that rein somehow,” said Frank, “and we’ll go on, for I have no time to waste.”
When the horses were thoroughly quieted, Cunningham found a piece of stout twine in his pocket. Merriwell had a jack-knife that was also a handy kit of tools, and with these the rein was securely spliced, Frank doing most of the work.
“Yo’ are clever at some things,” the ruffian was forced to confess; “an’ I judge yo’ don’t scare very easy.”
To this Frank deigned no retort, but asked:
“How much farther have we to go?”
“Not more than a mile, suh.”
“A mile? Why, you said it was not over two miles at the start, and I’m sure we’ve covered a longer distance than that already.”
“Well, suh, Virginyah miles are pretty long.”
“I should say so! Well, make it as soon as you can, for I must get back to town, but don’t use your whip on the horses again.”
Frank vaulted lightly into the carriage, and Cunningham followed him. Then they drove along once more. Reaching a piece of timber, they turned into a road that seemed little used. After driving some distancethey came in sight of a ramshackle-looking house with some outbuildings near.
“Is that the place?” asked Frank wonderingly.
“Yes, suh; that’s the place,” averred Cunningham. “The girl is waiting for yo’ there.”
Elsie in such a place as that! It seemed impossible. No wonder she had appealed to Frank for help! She must be in dire distress.
But was this the home of the rich Mrs. Parker with whom Elsie had been traveling in the South? It could not be!
“Does Mrs. Parker live here?”
“Yes, I reckon that’s her name,” answered the man. Then he gave a sharp whistle, and a colored man loafed deliberately round a corner of the old house.
“Take care of the hosses, Toby,” ordered Cunningham. “You know what to do, you black rascal. Give them a good rubbing down, or I’ll tan your hide!”
“Yes, suh; all right, suh!” said Toby, moving with greater alacrity when he recognized the man in the carriage.
Cunningham jumped out.
“Come on, suh,” he said to Frank.
Feeling bewildered, as well as dismayed, Frank obeyed.
Where was Elsie? Why did she not appear at the door to welcome him? Perhaps she was ill! The thought was startling. He had not asked “Muldoon” about that.
“Come right in,” invited Cunningham, as he led the way.
Frank followed. The front door had been closed, but Cunningham thrust it open and entered. When that door closed with a bang behind Frank, a sudden presentiment of danger seized upon him.
Up to that time there had been nothing to arouse his suspicions, and, knowing Elsie was in Charlottesville, it is not at all strange that he had failed to penetrate the deception. Had there seemed to be any reason why any one should wish to do him harm, Merriwell would have been on his guard before, and it is certain he must have penetrated Cunningham’s trickery.
Now, having proceeded thus far, Frank quickly resolved to see the matter through. He would not retreat until he knew what was “doing,” but he would be on his guard.
“She’s up-stairs,” said Cunningham.
Up-stairs Frank followed the ruffian, striding along in advance in a careless manner.
“She’s right in this room,” declared the man, flinging open a door. “Walk in.”
But Frank did not walk. In that room he had caught a glimpse of two men who were playing cards at a rough table.
Instantly Cunningham turned round and grasped Merry’s collar.
“Walk in!” he repeated commandingly. “Here, Ben, I’ve got a visitor to see yo’.”
“Remove your hand!” said Frank, in a low, cold tone. “Remove it instantly!”
And then, when Cunningham failed to obey, Merry struck the man a blow that sent him up against the partition with a terrible thud that seemed to shake the whole house.