That afternoon Frank Merriwell accompanied Warren Hatch when the latter left the city to return to his home on the Hudson. They took a train at the Grand Central Station.
When they were comfortably seated on the train, Mr. Hatch observed:
"Well, Frank, the thing is settled at last, and now it will be pushed through as fast as possible. We'll have that railroad built in a hurry, and you don't have to lift a hand. You have business enough to look after, and so——"
"I was not particularly anxious to become actively concerned in the construction of our railroad," said Merry; "but, of course, I stood ready and willing to do my share."
"Which you did by pledging yourself to take a good big lot of the stock when issued. As this road is to be capitalized at its actual value, it ought to become a rich thing for every stockholder. Leave it to us to take care of everything, Frank. There will be no delays."
"Unless Bantry Hagan and Felipe Jalisco cause them."
"But you were absolutely confident that Jalisco's document was a forgery."
"Absolutely confident, Mr. Hatch. I can't say whether Bantry Hagan worked up this scheme or not, with the idea of squeezing something out of us; but if he did he must have worked swiftly after the death of Del Norte. I'm more inclined to believe that by some chance he ran across Jalisco and was himself convinced that the document was genuine. The fact that I have so thoroughly investigated everything that might have the slightest bearing on the legality of my title to the San Pablo makes me absolutely confident that the Jalisco grant is a forgery."
"Well, you have settled Watson Scott's mind on that point, and Scott is not a man to make mistakes. The rest of us are ready to follow his lead."
"It's something of a relief to me," confessed Merry. "Of course, I was confident of coming out ahead of Del Norte, but the man kept me moving. As it has turned out, I don't feel it necessary to make a rush to Mexico, and I'll take my time about going West. If things pan out all right, I'll have some of my friends along, and we'll stop on the way at St. Louis and other places. I'm almost tempted to seek recreation in athletics and sports."
"You can choose your own course about that, Frank. If your business admits of it, I don't blame you for enjoying life through those sports in which you seemto take such a great interest. But you must stop with me a day or two. I want you to meet my boy, Arthur. He's a fine chap, but just a little inclined to be wild. I have to watch him closely to hold him down, and I'm afraid I don't hold him down all the time. I believe you'll like Art."
They chatted in this manner until Irvington was reached, where they left the train and entered Mr. Hatch's private carriage, which was waiting.
They were driven from the beautiful village to the splendid home of Mr. Hatch, which overlooked the Hudson.
A boy of seventeen or eighteen, with his head bare and his hands in his pockets, was standing on the veranda as they approached.
"There's Art now!" exclaimed Mr. Hatch. "Hello, Art!"
"Hello, dad," coolly responded the boy, without stirring.
"Here, Art, is Mr. Merriwell," said the banker, when they had left the carriage. "Mr. Merriwell, my son."
"How are you, Mr. Merriwell," said Arthur, with a touch of cordiality, as he shook hands with the visitor. "Father has been telling me about you. Says you're a corking fisherman. That was what put you right with him. He's the biggest crank on fishing that I ever saw."
Arthur Hatch was a chap it was not easy to fathomat first sight. He resembled his father slightly, but he was larger and better built, although somewhat too flat across the chest. He seemed to affect a drawl, and the grasp of his hand was not exactly hearty.
They entered the house.
"I'll take care of Merriwell now, father, if you don't mind," said the son. "Perhaps I can entertain him until dinner time."
"You'll find I don't need entertaining," laughed Frank. "I particularly dislike to have any one put himself out to entertain me. I feel easier when no effort is made."
"Come up to my room," invited the boy.
They ascended to Art's room, which was on the second floor, and proved to be almost luxurious.
"Now, make yourself at home, Merriwell," drawled the boy, with an air of familiarity. "There is the bathroom."
Frank removed his coat, pulled back his cuffs, and washed his face and hands, which gave him a feeling of freshness.
In the meantime, on returning to Art's room, he found the boy had produced a flask and glasses.
"Here's some fine old rye," he said. "We have lots of time to touch it up a little before dinner."
"Excuse me," said Merry, shaking his head.
"Don't you care for rye? Well, I have some bourbon here. Perhaps that will——"
"I'll have to be excused from taking anything."
"Really? It will do you good. You've been having a session with the governor and those Wall Street sharks, and it seems to me you need something after that."
"I don't think I need anything, thank you."
"Well, later on we can have a cocktail before dinner. Which do you prefer, a Manhattan, or a——"
Frank was now brought to the point where it was necessary for him to state that he did not drink Manhattans or cocktails of any sort.
Young Hatch eyed him with an expression of doubt.
"You don't seem to be stringing me," he said. "Don't you drink at all?"
"No."
"Never?"
"Never."
"I can't understand it," said Arthur. "Everybody drinks nowadays."
"Not everybody. You are mistaken about that."
"Well, there are precious few who don't. Young men who are up to date all take something."
"Then I'll have to confess that I'm not up to date."
"Strange," muttered the youth. "Have a cigarette?"
"I do not smoke them."
"Well, I keep a box of cigars for my friends who do not care for cigarettes. They are——"
"I do not smoke at all."
Arthur sat down, slowly rolling a cigarette between his fingers, eying Merry all the while.
"I didn't believe it," he finally muttered.
"Didn't believe what?"
"I've heard of you, you know, and what I've heard led me to think you a corking chap, one of the boys, you understand."
"I think those who know me well have always considered me 'one of the boys,'" smiled Merry.
"But really a fellow who never drinks nor smokes—why, he can't have any fun!"
"I beg to differ with you on that point. I do not believe any chap ever got more fun out of life than I have."
"Then you used to drink and smoke?"
"Never."
Arthur lighted his cigarette, took several whiffs, staring at Frank all the while, and finally observed:
"When the governor came home and told me about you, he said you didn't touch liquor and didn't smoke; but I sort of fancied you had been playing it clever with him for reasons of your own."
Merry flushed a little.
"In short," he said, "you thought I was fooling him?"
"Well, I thought it rather clever of you, for you were trying to get dad and a lot of those men ofdough into some sort of a railroad scheme, and I reckoned you were playing it fine with them."
"That's not my way of doing things."
"Beg pardon; no offense. Everybody is slick in these times, you know. You'll find the men you are dealing with are all sharp as steel. They never play any game frank and open."
Frank looked doubtful.
"Of course you do not mean to place your father in that class?"
"Well, I fancy the old boy knows all the tricks," laughed the lad softly. "He's been able to hold his own with the rest of them. How did you get through college without drinking?"
"That was easy. When the other fellows found I was sincere in letting the stuff alone they respected my principles, and I had no trouble at all."
"You were a great athlete?"
"I made a fair record."
"Well, didn't you ever see the time when you felt that, just as you were about to take part in some contest, a drink might give you vim and energy?"
"Never. By letting the stuff alone and keeping constantly in the best possible condition, I had vim and energy enough. Had I drunk, it must have robbed me of some of my vim and energy."
"Oh, come, now! Not if you had drunk moderatelyand discreetly. Not if you had used liquor with good judgment."
"Liquor never gave a thoroughly healthy man any strength that was not false strength. It makes men feel stronger, but in truth it weakens them. I don't care to preach you a temperance lecture, Arthur, but you sort of forced this out of me."
"I'm glad to hear what you think about it. I can't agree with you, you know; but you interest me. You don't mean to say that drinking has ever hurt me, do you?"
"It has never done you a particle of good, and the chances are that it has hurt you."
"I can't believe it. Look at me, and then look at my father. I'm better built, healthier and stronger in every way than he ever was. I've taken an interest in athletics always, and he has encouraged me, saying he made a mistake when he was in college by not doing so."
"Well, you owe much of your good condition, it is likely, to your inclination toward athletics and physical culture; but I believe you would be in better condition if you let liquor alone, and did not smoke cigarettes. Your father has weak lungs, and you are not properly developed across the chest. Still you injure the delicate tissues of your lungs by inhaling the smoke of cigarettes. At the same time you are weakening your brain power and your force of character. I am absolutely certain of this, for no fellow who indulges in those things escapes injury."
There was something in Merry's manner that impressed the boy. Frank had a way of convincing listeners when he spoke.
"If I thought so——" muttered Art.
"Would you give up cigarettes and liquor?"
"Well, I don't know. It would be pretty hard."
"Do you mean that your habits have such a hold on you already?"
"If I could go somewhere away from here where there was no whisky and no cigarettes, and I could see none of my chums who drink and smoke, I suppose I might break off."
"Why not here? Are you at your age a slave to cigarettes?"
"Well, you see it's this way: all the fellows know I drink and smoke, and they would laugh at me if I should say I'd stopped. They wouldn't believe it. They would keep at me until they shamed me into keeping on."
"Then you confess that you have not the will power to refuse and stick to it. Can't you see that your will power is weakened?"
"It's not that; it's because I don't wish to be laughed at and jollied."
"Which is a confession of weakness. Let themlaugh; in the end, if you stick to your good resolutions, they will stop laughing and learn to respect you."
"Perhaps that's right; but I've seen some mighty mean, narrow, contracted men who never drank, never smoked, and never swore. I've seen some rascals who had none of the small vices, and usually they are the meanest sort of rascals."
"I don't doubt it; but does that prove that all men, or even the majority of men, who have none of the small vices are mean or rascally? I don't fancy you believe that. You know it's natural to suppose that a bad man should be a drinker, a smoker, and a swearer. When you see a bad man who does none of these things, it is so unusual that you immediately look on him as a representative of his kind."
Art nodded.
"Perhaps that's so," he acknowledged. "Of course, I do know men who have no vices, and who are good fellows. I swear, Merriwell, you've almost converted me."
Frank smiled.
"Would that I might wholly convert you!" he exclaimed. "Does your father know you drink?"
"Lord, no! I wouldn't have the governor know it for anything! He takes a little himself, but he thinks I'm on the water wagon yet—thinks I'm not old enough to get out with the boys and whoop her up."
After a moment he dropped the half-smoked cigarette on an ash tray.
"I believe I'll quit!" he exclaimed. "I've been working for chest development, and it's coming slower than any other part of me. Perhaps smoking is holding me back. I believe I'll let tobacco alone for a few months and see if I improve."
"Good!" cried Merry. "But you should knock off drinking at the same time."
"I will! It's going to be a hard thing to do, but I'll try it."
"Give me your hand on it, Arthur! Don't merely try, but make up your mind that nothing shall cause you to break your resolution. Show that your will power and determination have not been weakened."
They shook hands.
Frank was well pleased over the resolution of Arthur Hatch. He was beginning to like the boy.
They were talking in the most friendly fashion by this time, and Arthur began questioning Merry about college days and his life at Yale.
"I'd like to go to Yale," he said; "but the governor has made up his mind on Harvard, and it's Harvard for me."
"A fine college," said Frank.
"Somehow it seems to me that the fellows at Yale have better times."
"In a way, I believe they do. Harvard is more givento cliques. You know it has been called the rich man's college. Yale is more democratic. I have a brother not far from your age who is fitting for Yale."
"Where is he fitting?"
"He has been at Fardale Military Academy; but just now he is traveling abroad in company with his tutor, Professor Gunn, of Fardale."
"Traveling abroad! That must be fine. You have traveled a great deal, haven't you, Merriwell?"
"I have seen a part of the world. I went abroad myself when I was quite young with Professor Scotch, of Fardale, who was my guardian, as well as my tutor. We saw a great many countries."
"But none equal to this country, I'll wager?"
"None equal to this country for an American."
"Seems to me I heard the governor say something about a mine or mines of yours down in Mexico."
"I have a mine in the State of Sonora, Mexico. This projected Central Sonora Railroad will assist me greatly in handling the products of that mine."
"I see. Have you been in Mexico much?"
"Quite a lot."
"How do you like the people down there?"
"Well, you know that about two-thirds of the country's population consists of Indians. They are the descendants of the once mighty Aztecs, but there is nothing very warlike about the most of them. They seem crushed, poverty-stricken, and sad. They laborlike slaves for a mere pittance when they work at all, and their condition is truly pitiful."
"But the progressive citizens, the ruling class—what do you think of them?"
"I have met some very pleasant people among them."
"I know a fellow from the City of Mexico."
"Do you?"
"Yes; he's here in New York now. His father sent him here to learn something about our ways of doing business. He seems like a pretty fine fellow, too. I invited him out for dinner to-day, but I'm not sure he will come. He knows he's welcome to drop in any time."
"What's his name?"
"Carlos Mendoza. His father is a great gun down in Mexico."
"The Mendozas form an important family."
"I hope he comes out, for I'd like lo have you meet him."
Less than ten minutes later Carlos Mendoza himself knocked at the door of that room.
"I came right up, Arthur, my dear friend," he laughed, showing his handsome teeth as he entered.
"That was right," said Hatch. "Let me introduce you to Mr. Merriwell, Carlos. Mr. Merriwell, the friend I mentioned, Mr. Mendoza."
The young Mexican straightened up, and looked at Merry with an expression of the keenest interest.
"Mr. Merriwell," he said, "I am happy to know you. I believe I have heard of you before."
There was nothing of genuine American heartiness in the handshake he gave Frank.
Mendoza had the atmosphere of his race, easy and languid. He dropped gracefully on a chair and reached out for the cigarettes, the open case of Arthur Hatch being near.
"Forgot my papers," he smiled, "so I can't roll one of my own. I won't rob you, Arthur?"
"You'll not rob me if you take them all."
"You're always generous."
"Nothing generous about that, old man."
"Oh, I know cigarettes are inexpensive, especially to the son of an American money king; but——"
"I shall not want those things any more," said Art, as if determined to let his new visitor know without delay of his resolutions. "I have quit smoking, Carlos."
The Mexican lad lifted his eyebrows in surprise.
"Quit?" he questioned. "Are you joking?"
"No; I'm in earnest. I've knocked off for good."
"How foolish!" laughed Carlos. "Why, how can you bear to deprive yourself of such a comfort and luxury? Oh, the enjoyment of a good cigarette! Nothing can take its place. A fellow loses a great dealif he doesn't smoke. Next thing you'll tell me that you have stopped drinking."
"I have."
Mendoza almost dropped his cigarette.
"What?"
"I don't wonder that you stare, but it is true. I have sworn off."
"Pardon me for smiling!" exclaimed the young Mexican, lifting his slender hand to his mouth. "I fear it is not good breeding, but I can't help it."
Young Hatch flushed.
"That's all right, Carlos!" he exclaimed. "I have a right to knock off any of my bad habits if I wish to, I suppose."
"Oh, why do you call them bad habits? I see no sense in that, Arthur. Every one smokes and drinks, you know. Down in my country——"
"Not every one," interrupted Arthur. "Merriwell does not."
Mendoza shrugged his shoulders like a Frenchman.
"Then he doesn't know what he's missing. Oh, stop if you wish, Arthur; you'll be at it again within a week."
"I'll bet you ten dollars on that!" cried Hatch warmly.
"You'd lose. But be careful; perhaps Señor Merriwell is so very scrupulous that he does not believe in betting. Perhaps he never bets. Ha, ha, ha!"
The laughter of Mendoza was most irritating.
By this time Frank's dislike for the fellow was most pronounced. In Mendoza he saw one of the companions of Arthur Hatch who was bringing to bear a most evil influence on the boy. It was the laughter and ridicule of such fellows as this that Arthur dreaded.
"I do not believe in betting," admitted Merry, at once. "By that I mean that I do not believe in betting for the purpose of making profit, and particularly am I opposed to betting on games of chance."
"I am afraid," said Carlos, with sarcasm, "that you're a trifle too good, Señor Merriwell, for association with the rest of us. Did you never bet?"
"Yes," admitted Frank, "I have done such a thing."
"Ah! Then you have reformed? You've had your fun, and now you think others should not have theirs. Did you never play cards?"
"Yes."
"For money?"
Frank admitted that he had played for money.
"Then you have not always been a saint," observed Mendoza, in that same irritating manner. "You have really lived—a little."
The insolence of the fellow in talking to Frank in such a manner was felt by Hatch, who hastened to check him.
"Mr. Merriwell is no softie!" he exclaimed, seeming to feel that Frank needed defending. "He was a famous athlete at Yale College. He made a great reputation as a baseball and football player."
"Baseball—paugh!" cried Carlos. "I have seen the senseless sport you call baseball. Sport! There is no sport in it. It is tame. Football is better, but that is not much. For real sport, Señor Merriwell, you should see a Mexican bullfight."
"That is what you consider real sport, is it?" asked Frank.
"It is—it is grand sport! It is fine to see the bullfighters in the ring, to see the bull charging one after another, to see them fleeing on their horses, to see the horses gored and brought down, while the riders barely escape by a hair, and at last to see the chief bullfighter meet the charge of the bull and slay the creature. You should witness a bullfight, Mr. Merriwell."
Frank smiled into the face of the callow Mexican lad. No wonder he smiled, for, years before, in Spain, as a mere boy, while traveling with Professor Scotch, Frank had leaped into the ring at a bullfight in order to save the life of Zuera, the lady bullfighter of Madrid, and with a sword dropped by a frightened espada had himself slain the bull.
"Mendoza," he said, "I have seen your Mexican bullfights, and I once witnessed such a spectacle in Madrid. A Spanish bullfight is bad enough, but aMexican bullfight is the most disgusting and brutal thing imaginable. Usually your bull is frightened and runs around seeking some avenue of escape from the torturers who pursue him, assailing him with their banderillos. At last he may be goaded and driven to a sort of desperate resistance. When he turns on his tormentors they permit him to gore the wretched old horses which have been provided as a sacrifice to glut the thirst of the populace for the sight of blood.
"I have seen three or four of those poor beasts dying in a Mexican bull ring at the same time, some lying on the ground, and feebly trying to rise, or staggering weakly around with their bodies ripped open. I have seen the bull at last stand exhausted and cowed while the one chosen to dispatch him walked up and did the job. I have heard the crowd roar with delight as the sword was plunged into the neck of the bull and the creature's blood gushed forth. Don't talk to me about such sport!"
Frank's words and manner seemed to scorch the Mexican for a moment, but he quickly recovered, snapping his fingers.
"Like most Americans, you quail and grow sick at the sight of a little blood," he sneered. "We hear about the courage of Americans, and, of course, some of them are brave; but I doubt the courage of any man who gets sick over the sight of a little good, red blood."
"Gentlemen," cried Hatch, in dismay, "I hope you are not going to——"
"Don't worry, Arthur," interrupted Frank. "It is plain that Mendoza and I hold quite different views. It is the difference between two races. There will be no further discussion."
Mendoza sprang up.
"You are right," he admitted; "it is the difference between my people and your people. We do not understand each other. If I have been hasty in anything, forget it. I presume Señor Merriwell is right—from his standpoint. Let it pass."
Hatch was relieved.
"Let's go out for a little air," he suggested. "I wish to show Merriwell round the place."
"A lovely place," nodded the Mexican lad. "The home of my good friend Arthur Hatch, who, although an American, is a man I do not believe would turn squeamish at sight of a little blood."
Frank was quite willing and ready to go out.
The sun was hanging low in the west, its last rays shimmering upon the surface of the broad Hudson. The air was chilly and rapidly growing colder.
"It's fine here in the summer," said Arthur, as they strolled about; "but I prefer the city just now. Later, when there is ice boating, we have some great sport up here. Yes, that is real sport! Making a mile a minute on an ice boat is enough to satisfy any one.I'd like to have you up here for some of that, Merriwell."
"I know I would enjoy it," smiled Frank. "I've done a little ice boating; but not on the scale that it's done up here."
As they walked about, Mendoza gradually fell behind.
"I'm afraid your friend is sulking," said Merry.
"Let him sulk!" exclaimed Arthur, in a low tone. "He had deuced bad taste in making the talk he did, and I'm rather sore on him. Don't pay any attention to him."
Thus it happened that Carlos was left behind and dropped out of sight.
He was passing a thick hedge, when suddenly from the opposite side rose the head and shoulders of a boy nearly his own age, and somewhat resembling him in general appearance. This boy whistled a soft signal and called the name of Carlos, who turned in surprise and saw him.
For a moment Mendoza stood staring in a surprised and bewildered way. Then his eyes gleamed, and he exclaimed:
"As I live, it is Felipe Jalisco!"
The boy beyond the hedge spoke in Spanish.
"I have been watching for you, Carlos, for I saw you enter that house. Join me quickly."
There was an opening in the hedge, and throughthis Mendoza hastened, the two boys falling into each other's arms like long-lost brothers.
"How comes it that you are here?" questioned Carlos, still betraying his amazement.
"Come away into the wooded hollow down yonder," invited Felipe. "I will then tell you. I do not wish to be seen by any one but you."
Together they descended into the little hollow through which ran a stream that was spanned by a rustic bridge. They sat down on the bridge staring at each other with a strange expression of delight and affection in their eyes.
"I knew it would surprise you to see me," said Felipe.
"Is that strange? When last we met it was thousands of miles away in our own country. I told you then that my father had promised to send me here to learn some of the business ways of these miserable gringoes."
"I remember; and I told you that I had found an old document that would make me very rich."
"Yes, Felipe. Are you rich now?"
"Not yet; but I shall be soon."
"I am glad, for you are my dearest friend. Did your search for riches bring you so far?"
"Yes."
"But you told me the old document would give you much land in Mexico."
"So it should, Carlos; but the document was never recorded. It was made when Mexico first came to be a republic, and then there was much confusion and little method. It gives me a great strip of land in Sonora, and on that land, as I have learned, is one mine alone rich enough to provide me all the money I could ever desire. But that mine is held and is being worked by a cursed gringo. It was to find him that I came so far."
"And have you found him?"
"Yes, and demanded what is rightfully mine."
"His answer——"
"Was to laugh at me! All I wished was that he should pay me well. Why should he not, when he is getting richer and richer from property that is mine? Had he given me my right, I could have everything I need. I meant to let him go on working the mine if he gave me one-half it produces; but first I sought to frighten him by demanding a great sum. I asked for five hundred thousand dollars. I showed the document. He told me not one dollar would he ever pay me. Carlos, this gringo even told me the document was a forgery!"
"It is like them all! I hate them, Felipe! Not one have I found that I can really care for. Still I take pains not to let them know what I really think of them. It is to learn their business ways and tricks I am here, and I will succeed. This day I am visitingArthur Hatch, who thinks me his friend. Ha, ha! I took pains to make his acquaintance because his father is one of the great business men I wish to watch. I want to find out how it is he succeeds so wonderfully. But there are other reasons why I stick close by Hatch. He spends much money, and he knows many gringoes it is good for me to meet. Sometimes I feel like telling him what a great fool I think he is; but it would not be wise."
"When I came up here to-day," said Felipe, "I did not once dream that I should find you. I have some friends in New York, but none like you, Carlos—not one. I came here because of the American who has my mine. He has sworn never to give me a dollar of what is rightfully mine, but to his face I told him he must pay or I would kill him."
"That was right. Did he turn pale?"
"Not at all; he laughed."
"It will do you no good to kill him."
"It would give me the greatest pleasure, but then I could not frighten him into paying me what I will have. It is to begin to frighten him I am here. I wish him to know his life is in danger all the time. I will follow him night and day, and make him understand in time. I saw him shortly before you came along by the hedge."
"Did you, Felipe?"
"Yes; he was with the boy whose father lives in that house."
Carlos was surprised.
"Do you mean Frank Merriwell?"
"He is the one! It is he who is robbing me of what is mine. He laughed at me when I demanded money. I hate him!"
"Felipe, I love you more because you hate him! I have seen and talked with him, and my pleasure would be to put a knife between his ribs!"
Again those boys embraced.
"Carlos, you can help me," said Felipe.
"How?"
"If we could meet him together in the dark and fall upon him. Together we could beat him down and nearly kill him. Then I would tell him that next time Felipe Jalisco would finish the job unless he paid to me that money. The gringoes are cowards. They laugh and pretend they are not afraid; but when real danger comes they have no courage at all."
"It would do me good to help you," said Carlos. "Have you a plan?"
"Could you not induce him to walk down here after dark? I would be waiting here, and would spring on him from behind."
"He does not like me. I fear he would not walk with me at all. I don't think it can be done."
"I must find a way to strike at him my first blow to-night."
"Wait," said Mendoza. "He will stay here overnight."
"Yes?"
"So will I."
"What of it?"
"I think I know the room he will have. I can point it out to you. If you could attack him in that room and give him a great fright——"
"How is it possible?"
"It will be cold to-night, but you are wearing your heavy coat. If you could wait until all had gone to bed, then I might let you into the house. I might show you his room. But, Felipe, you would not kill him to-night?"
"Not to-night."
"Then, if you wish, I will dare it. I will let you into that house, but you know what it means if you should be caught there. Will you take the chance?"
"Can it be arranged so that I may get out quickly and easily?"
"I believe it can."
"Then I will dare anything that I may let him know Felipe Jalisco means to keep the oath he has taken."
It was a pleasant dinner hour at the home of Warren Hatch when Frank met Mrs. Hatch, who proved to be a strangely modest, motherly sort of woman. Merry decided that she had been a country girl, and that the change in fortune that had lifted her from humbleness to her present position as the wife of a very wealthy man had not changed her character in the least.
Mendoza was exceedingly agreeable at table. He was not forward, but seemed to take just the proper interest and proper part in the flow of conversation, and not once during the meal was he offensive in the slightest degree. But for his first unpleasant impression of the fellow, Merry might have fancied him quite a decent chap.
The Mexican was very frank in stating his desire to learn everything possible about American methods of business while he remained in New York, and he asked a few questions of Mr. Hatch, but never pressed a point when the gentleman seemed reticent over it.
"I don't presume you are looking for a business opening here?" questioned Hatch. "Why, Americans have their eyes on Mexico, which they say is very richand offers innumerable opportunities for the man of brains, business, and capital. You have fine plantations, splendid ranches, and some of the richest mines in the world. Are you going to let Americans open up all your mines and work them?"
"Oh, no," laughed Carlos. "Americans have not all our mines, by any means. Many Americans have obtained mines in my country to which they have no legal right. For instance, there were the great Santa Maria Mines, which were secured and operated by a syndicate of Americans. They thought they had a claim to those mines that could not be disputed, and they laughed at any one that suggested the possibility of trouble over them. One day a man by the name of Casaria came along and told them that the property was his, and that they must either pay him well for the privilege of working them, or get out. They told him to go away. He went. Then he began proceedings against them, and in less than a year they were ousted and compelled to abandon every building they had constructed, every piece of machinery they had put in, and all that. Casaria had beaten them, and he turned round and leased his property to another company that pays him well for the privilege of working it. The same thing is likely to happen to other Americans in Mexico."
Frank surveyed Mendoza keenly, wondering if the boy had told this for his benefit; but apparently thelad was wholly innocent that it might apply to any one present.
After dinner Merry spent the evening with Mr. and Mrs. Hatch, while Arthur and Carlos retired soon to Art's room.
Finally Mr. Hatch asked Frank if he wished to retire, and Merry expressed a desire to do so.
It happened that Frank's room was not far from that of Arthur Hatch. As he followed Mr. Hatch past Art's open door, Mendoza called to him.
"Going to bed so soon, Mr. Merriwell?" he inquired. "Come in for a moment before you retire."
Having been shown to his room, Frank decided to accept Mendoza's invitation. It was a queer feeling that impelled him to do so, for Arthur had said nothing.
As he entered Art's room, he detected a quick movement on the part of young Hatch, who hastily rose to his feet, asking Frank to sit down. His face was unnaturally flushed, and there was a peculiar expression in his eyes.
Carlos was smoking a cigarette, and the air of the room was heavy with smoke. About him there was a certain air of suppressed satisfaction.
There seemed no particular reason why the boys should wish Frank to drop in before going to bed. Indeed, Arthur seemed ill at ease and talked little. He seemed to be making an effort to appear natural.
It was not long before Merry divined Mendoza's object in calling him.
The Mexican had induced Arthur to break the pledge recently made to Frank.
Although Carlos was smoking, on a little ash receiver beneath the table near which Hatch had been sitting lay a freshly lighted cigarette, from which a vapory bit of blue smoke was rising.
Arthur had been smoking and drinking with Carlos.
The young Mexican had wished Frank to see that his power over the boy was strong enough to make him break his pledge.
Having decided on this, Frank felt like seizing Mendoza and giving him a thorough shaking up. Inwardly he was angry with the fellow, but outwardly he was undisturbed.
Carlos took special delight in trying to induce his host to talk, apparently hoping Hatch would make some sort of a break.
Frank knew it would do no good to talk to Arthur Hatch then. Instead, it would almost surely anger and shame him to such an extent that he would become resentful, announce himself as his own master, and declare his perfect ability to look out for himself, without the advice or assistance of any one.
"The smoke is somewhat too thick for me here, boys," said Merry. "I think I'll turn in."
"Sorry you can't sit up with us a while longer," saidArthur, but he could not hide his relief and satisfaction.
He was glad Frank was going, and Merry knew it.
"As in other things," smiled Carlos, "you seem to have some old-fashioned ways about sleeping. I don't believe any man half lives who sleeps too much at night. Ah! New York and upper Broadway is the place! There something is doing nearly all the night."
"If the occasion demands," said Merriwell, "I can stay up with any of them; but just now I feel like bottling up a little sleep, as the expression goes."
"I hope you may enjoy your rest," said Carlos. "I hope nothing may disturb you. Good night, señor."
"Good night," said Frank. "Good night, Arthur."
In his room Merry fell to thinking of the two boys as he undressed.
"Carlos Mendoza is Arthur's evil genius," he decided. "The influence of the fellow on Hatch is wholly bad. What is the best course for me to pursue? Had I better warn his father? Is there not some other way to open Arthur's eyes? If I go to Warren Hatch, the man may become angry, and give his son a raking down that will do more harm than good."
After getting into bed, Merry continued to meditate on the matter, finding it was not easy to decide on a course.
He thought of many other things. The memory of his recent encounters with Porfias del Norte hauntedhim. He thought of the manner in which he had been trapped by Del Norte up in the Adirondacks, and thanked his lucky stars that O'Toole, the Irishman, out of gratitude, had aided him to escape from the murderous Mexican.
"Poor O'Toole!" he murmured. "When he became my friend he was faithful unto death."
The memory of his own desperation and distress on learning that Inza Burrage had fallen into the power of Del Norte caused him to twist and turn on the bed. Only for O'Toole, he might have been baffled in following Inza's captors. Through the acquaintance and friendship of O'Toole with Red Ben, Del Norte's Indian guide, had come the rescue of Inza.
Once more Frank seemed to be standing in the depths of the Adirondack wilderness at the foot of the mountain, and again he seemed to hear the shriek of terror which escaped the lips of the Irishman as he fell from the precipice, and came crashing through the treetops to strike the ground a short distance away. Then Merry lived over once more his knife duel with Del Norte on the cliff, the escape from the cave, and the struggle to get away from the landslide, when, with superhuman efforts, he had carried Inza in his arms to a place of safety.
"Del Norte is dead," he muttered; "but he seems to be reincarnated in Felipe Jalisco. I have not seen the last of Jalisco. That man Hagan is dangerous, too.Without the backing Hagan will try to give, Jalisco would give me little trouble in regard to the mine. His claim is a forgery beyond doubt; but he seems to think it genuine. Were it not for Hagan, I might do something for the boy, if his demands were anywhere near reasonable. Hagan is determined to get his finger into the pie, and he'll want a large slice. He'll get nothing."
Finally Frank slept; but he was awakened by something that pressed sudden and hard across his throat. He tried to start up, but that thing across his throat held him helpless.
Besides that, there was a sudden weight on his breast, as of a hand that thrust him back.
Through the window of his room came a dim light, by which he discerned a dark figure that seemed crouching on the edge of the bed.
He knew instantly that some person was there. Through the gloom a pair of gleaming eyes, like those of an animal, seemed to look into his.
"Be still!" came a hissing whisper. "Make a sound and you shall die!"
By this time Frank was wide-awake, with every sense aroused.
He wondered if it was a burglar.
"Don't cry out!" again commanded his assailant. "One little cry from you will be your last! Do you feel this?"
Something keen pricked Merriwell's throat.
"It is my knife," declared the unknown. "With a single stroke I can open the vein in your throat, and nothing in all the world can save you."
The situation was one to send a thrill through the strongest nerves.
"What do you want?" asked Merry, in a low tone.
"Softer than that!" hissed the fellow with the knife. "Don't speak louder than a whisper if your life to you has any value."
"What do you want?" whispered Merry.
"Ha! That is right! Now let me warn you further. There is a stout cord across your neck, and you cannot lift your head if you attempt it so much as your strength will admit. The cord is made fast to both sides of the bed beneath you. You are perfectly helpless. First it is that I want you to know. Even if the cord should not be there, with my knife I could kill you when you tried to struggle. Now should you with your hands grasp me you would be like a child to destroy."
"Having made all this plain, go ahead and tell me what you are after," urged Merriwell.
"Are you not afraid? I expected to hear your teeth chattering together like castanets. I expected to feel your body shaking, as if with a great chill."
There was disappointment in these whispered words.
"What good would it do me to be afraid?"
"Can you reason like that in a moment when your life is in the most terrible danger? Have you ice in your veins?"
"Why should you do me an injury? If you are here to rob me——"
"I am not! I am here to make you stop from robbing me. I told you I would have my right or kill you. You laughed at me. Now you do not laugh!"
"Felipe Jalisco!"
"It is my name," was the bold confession.
Frank was amazed.
"How did you get into this house?"
"I find the way. When I told you that, night or day, asleep or awake, there would never be one moment that you would not be free from the peril of death at my hand, you laughed. You do not laugh now!"
"This isn't my time to laugh," confessed Frank. "Only fools laugh at the wrong moment."
"You were a fool when you defied me. You did not know me. You did not know the blood of the Jaliscos in me. To-night you thought yourself safe from harm. You did not dream it possible that Felipe Jalisco might strike his knife into your heart while you slept. When I told you that not one moment would you be safe, you thought it the foolish talk of a boy. Now you see."
"It is too dark for me to see very well."
"I am here to make you swear to give me what is mine. If you do it not, then you die!"
"And you will go to the electric chair at Sing Sing. Should you kill me to-night, Jalisco, you would be executed for murder."
"Paugh! I fear it not."
"Do you fancy you could escape?"
"I could."
"How little you reckon on the power of the law in this country. For you there would be no escape. You threatened my life, and that threat was heard before many witnesses. Those witnesses are all rich and powerful men. Should I be killed here and now, the first thing those men would do would be to bring all their combined influence to bear on having you arrested immediately, and convicted of that murder. Even if you were not guilty, and by some chance an unknown party should murder me, you would find it almost impossible to escape punishment for the crime. All those men would believe you did it, and they would bend every energy and the influence of their great wealth to carry you to the death chair. Did you attempt to prove an alibi, with all their influence and their wealth they would overthrow the proof, and show your witnesses were liars and perjurers. You cannot harm me without bringing destruction on yourself."
In this manner Frank forced the belief that he spokethe truth upon Felipe. Although he could not see the dark face of the Mexican, he felt that Jalisco had received his check.
"I have not come to kill you now," confessed the boy. "I want you to know I can do it. I want you to feel the constant danger. I want you to understand that when I am ready to strike I can do so, and strike to destroy. Perhaps not in New York or any great city like this shall I do it. I will follow you like a shadow. Where you go, there I will be. Unless you give me what I demand, I will some day kill you, having chosen the spot and time. Then I will escape, and no power may stop me. Fool of a gringo, you must give me my own! I will leave you in possession of the mine, but you must pay me one-half of all the money you make from it. It is the only thing that will save you. Señor Hagan asked for a big sum all at once, as he thought thus to get his share right away. I would have had him accept half the profit. Swear now that I shall have it! Swear you will pay——"
"Not a cent!" answered Merry grimly. "You have taken the wrong method of getting anything from a Merriwell. Not a cent shall you ever have!"
Felipe swore in Spanish.
"Then you are doomed!" he panted.
Suddenly he paused and lifted his head. A sound had reached his ears from some distant part of the house. It seemed that some one was stirring.
"Lie still!" he hissed. "If you try to follow, at the door you shall die!"
He sprang away with the soft step of a cat, and darted out at the door.
In a twinkling Merry slipped from beneath the cord, leaped from the bed, and made the house echo with the shout he uttered.
Unmindful of Jalisco's threat, he was out of that room and after the fellow in an amazing hurry. It must have been amazing for Jalisco, for the fellow was overtaken by Merry at the head of the stairs. He whirled and struck at Frank's breast, but the strong arm of the young American swept the blow aside.
Merry seized his foe, and together they went bounding and rolling the full length of the stairs.
When they landed at the bottom, Frank was on top, and the Mexican was pinned to the floor.
By this time the whole house was in commotion. Voices were calling, and lights were beginning to gleam.
"This way!" cried Frank. "I have him!"
He heard a sound on the stairs behind him, and supposed some one was rushing to his assistance. There was a patter of feet, and then the smothering folds of a blanket were flung over his head, and he was dragged backward to the floor, his hold on Felipe Jalisco being broken.
When Merry succeeded in flinging off the blanket,he found some one had turned on all the lights of the house. He saw Mr. Hatch, Arthur, Carlos Mendoza, and one or two servants near at hand. The front door stood wide open.
"A thousand pardons!" cried Mendoza, in apparent consternation and distress. "It was a sad mistake I made!"
"You flung that blanket over my head and dragged me off the fellow!" said Merry. "You permitted him to escape!"
"A thousand pardons! I thought you were the other. I thought he had you down. It was dark. I could not see."
"You deliberately aided him to escape."
"No, no; I swear I made a sad mistake—I swear it!"
"And lie when you take the oath!" retorted Frank, unable longer to restrain his feelings toward the fellow. "Mr. Hatch, you have a snake in your house, and there he is!"
Felipe Jalisco made good his escape that night, thanks to the assistance of his friend, Carlos Mendoza.
The following morning Frank swore out a warrant for the arrest of Jalisco, and this he took with him in order to have it ready when the proper time came.
He was determined to get back at the fellow without delay.
Believing Jalisco was stopping in New York, Frank gave a description of him to the police, and set them on the lookout for the fellow. He likewise told them that Jalisco might be found in company with Bantry Hagan sooner or later.
Two days passed without the apprehension of the Mexican lad being made or any trace of him discovered. On the forenoon of the third day Frank suddenly came face to face with Bantry Hagan in front of the Vendome Hotel, on Broadway.
The moment he saw Merry, the Irishman stopped, planting himself fairly in Frank's path.
"Sure it's a word I'd like to have with you, young man," he growled, frowning blackly.
"Well, I have little time to waste on you," retorted Merry.
"I want to know what you mean by it!" said the Irishman.
"By what?"
"By giving me the devil's own annoyance with the police. For two days I've had some of them following me round in plain clothes, and I'm tired of it. Call them off, me boy—I warn ye to call them off!"
"When they find Felipe Jalisco I think they'll not bother you further."
"So you're going to have the boy arrested? It's a bad mistake you're making by putting the coppers after him, for he has a nasty temper, and next time he gets you under his knife he's certain to cut your throat. I've warned him against it, but when you get through talking to one of those Mexicans they're worse than when you began. If it's sensible you are, you'll listen a bit to the boy's just demand. It may save your life if you listen."
"If there was a particle of justice in his demand, I would not refuse to listen. If anything happens to me it's pretty certain you'll find yourself arrested as the accomplice of Jalisco."
Then Frank passed on.
That night, after leaving a theatre which he had attended, Merry encountered, at Herald Square, a plain-clothes man, whom he knew, an officer by the name of Bronson. He had paused to speak with this man when he noticed on the opposite side of the streetseveral youngsters who seemed to be having something of a hilarious time.
"They're pretty well started," observed Bronson, noting Merry's glance; "but they're still able to keep out of trouble. One chap is pretty full."
"I know him," said Frank. "I know the fellow who has him by the arm."
He had recognized Arthur Hatch and Carlos Mendoza. Arthur was unsteady on his feet and rather boisterous.
Frank's first inclination was to cross the street immediately and to get Arthur away from his companion; but something caused him to decide on a different course.
"See here, Bronson," he said, "have you any particular duty on hand just now?"
"No, sir; not just at present. I'm on the lookout for crooks and sharks along here. You know we have orders to keep this part of Broadway clean of them."
"Can you come with me? I wish to follow those chaps. The one who appears to be in the worst condition is the son of Warren Hatch, the banker, and his associates are helping him go to the dogs as fast as possible. I'd like to find a way to break up his friendship with that crowd."
Bronson was willing to accompany Merry, and they followed the boisterous young men down Sixth Avenue some distance. Finally the boys disappeared into a cigar store.
"Hanged if they haven't gone into Spice Worden's!" said Bronson.
"Who is Spice Worden?"
"The proprietor of a gambling house. I know him, but I've been tipped to let him alone. There's graft in it for somebody, and I fancy I know who gets the rake-off, though I wouldn't like to say."
When they looked into the cigar store Hatch and his companions had disappeared.
"The entrance to the gambling house is through the store," explained Bronson. "Do you wish to go in?"
"Yes."
"Come on."
They entered the store. A young man behind the counter looked startled when he saw Bronson, and made a motion that the plain-clothes man checked.
"Don't bother with the buzzer, Tommy," said the officer. "There's nothing doing to my knowledge. This friend of mine wants to reach a chap who's inside. Call Worden, will you?"
A moment later Spice Worden himself appeared, and Bronson quickly convinced him that it was "all right." Worden seemed fearful that they were getting evidence, but the officer assured him to the contrary, upon which they were conducted behind the rear partition,through a dark passage, up a flight of stairs, and finally admitted to Worden's gambling joint.
The place was not luxurious, although it was comfortably fitted and furnished. The air was heavy with tobacco smoke, and a great crowd of men were playing roulette, faro, and other games.
Frank quickly discovered Arthur Hatch, who was "bucking the tiger," his recent companions around him.
But what was more interesting was the discovery of both Felipe Jalisco and Bantry Hagan in the group.
In a moment Merry had pointed Jalisco out to Bronson, and placed the warrant in the hands of the officer. Then he strode forward, pushed into the group, placed his hand on the shoulder of young Hatch, and said:
"Come, Arthur; you're going to come out of this place with me."
Bantry Hagan gave a cry of surprise and anger.
"It's Merriwell!" he shouted. "Jump him, boys! Do him up!"
Felipe Jalisco drew a knife, but suddenly found his wrist seized, the knife taken from him, and a pair of handcuffs snapped on his wrists, while Bronson said:
"I'll have to take you with me, young fellow. Better not make a row unless——"
"Don't let him arrest Felipe!" cried Carlos Mendoza. "Take him away from the cop! Come on!"
At this moment, however, there came to the ears ofall a sudden hammering and crashing, together with the whirring sound of a buzzer. Instantly the entire place was in confusion.
"A raid!" was the cry, and the men started on a rush to get out.
There came further crashing at the door of that room, which fell before the blows, and a squad of officers with drawn clubs poured in.
"Oh, goodness!" gasped Arthur Hatch, horrified and sobered. "We'll all be pinched and locked up. The governor will hear of it! If my mother finds out—— What shall I do?"
He was on the verge of collapsing.
"I'll try to get you out," said Merry. "But you must swear to cut your bad companions and to forever quit drinking and smoking."
"I swear it!" panted the boy. "Anything to get out of here. I'll keep the oath, too!"
In the meantime, the gamblers had rushed, and shouted, and struggled, and fought to escape; but all their efforts were useless. They were captured to the last man of them.
Spice Worden was arrested in his own gambling den. In the grasp of an officer he came face to face with Bronson, who had Jalisco.
"I didn't think it of you, Bronson!" he said, his face pale. "I thought you a square man."
"I swear I knew nothing of this raid," said Bronson. "I have my game here. I never lied to any man yet."
Frank and Arthur were close at hand, and Merry appealed to Bronson.
"How are we going to get clear of this trap?" he asked. "I don't fancy going to jail with a lot of gamblers."
"I'll take care of you," promised Bronson.
"And my friend here, too?"
"Your friend, too."
He turned Jalisco over to another policeman, and told Frank and Art to follow him. There was a back door that was guarded. When this door was reached, Bronson held a short, low-spoken conversation with the officer in charge there, after which he motioned to his companions, and the three descended the stairs and finally came out upon a street that ran from Sixth Avenue to Broadway.
"Here you are, Mr. Merriwell," said Bronson. "Sorry that raid happened just then, but I reckon there's no harm done. I suppose you'll be on hand to appear against Jalisco in the morning?"
"Without fail," said Merry. "Good night, Bronson. This has been a fortunate night for me."
"And for me!" exclaimed Arthur Hatch, as Bronson departed. "Good Lord! but I was frightened when those officers came! I saw myself scorned bymy father! I saw my mother broken-hearted! In one moment I realized what my bad habits had brought me to. I broke my first pledge to you, Frank Merriwell; but, with the help of God, I'll keep my second one!"
Frank Merriwell had just taken his cold plunge the next morning, when the telephone in his apartments rang.
Immediately Merry answered the summons.
"Hello!" he called into the phone.
"Hello!" was the answer. "Is this Frank Merriwell?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm Sam Bronson."
"Oh, good morning, Mr. Bronson."
"I'm afraid you'll not be so good-natured, Mr. Merriwell, when I tell you what has happened."
"Eh? What's the matter? Anything gone wrong?"
"I should say so! You know that Mexican that I arrested on the warrant you gave me?"
"Of course."
"Well, I turned him over to the rest of the boys who had the whole crowd rounded up, while I helped you get your friend, Hatch, out of the place, you know."
"Yes. I am to appear against Jalisco in court this morning."
"You don't have to appear."
"Why not?"
"He wasn't with the bunch locked up last night."
"Impossible!"
"It's true, unfortunately."
"How could that be? I don't understand it."
"Nor I. I'm doing my best to get at the bottom of it. Neither he nor Bantry Hagan were locked up. Both got away somehow."
Frank was more than vexed over this information.
"There's something crooked about this, Bronson!" he exclaimed. "Why, you put the irons on Jalisco."
"I know I did, and I'm shy a good pair of bracelets."
"He could not have escaped from the handcuffs unless they were removed by an officer. I should say this thing needs investigating, Bronson! And Hagan was not locked up either?"
"No. Neither Jalisco nor Hagan was with the bunch when it was rounded up at the station house last night. Both got away somewhere between Worden's and the station house. You know this man, Hagan, is pretty well known to the police, and he has influence. I'm going to make a roar over the business, and somebody's head will come off if I can fix the blame anywhere. It's the best I can do. I'm sorry, but I know you can't blame me."
"I'm sure you were not to blame, Bronson. Thisis bad business. I wanted to teach Jalisco a lesson. He's a dangerous young thug, and he's taken an oath to kill me unless I cough up a lot of cash to him. Do your best to get at the bottom of the matter and to get track of Jalisco at the same time. If you set eyes on him again, pinch him at once."
"Leave that to me," said Bronson. "I'm pretty sore over it. I'll call round to see you in an hour or so. Thought I'd phone you and let you know what had happened."
"Thank you, Bronson. Good-by."
"Good-by."
Frank hung up the receiver.