CHAPTER XISETTLING A SCORE.
Hector King’s disguise was so very superficial that Dade wondered at the daring of the man. Yet it was more effective than an elaborate disguise would have been. His face and hands were darkened, his hair cut short, and his dress was that of one of the numerous “sweeps” who take care of the rooms of the Yale students. The disguise had served so well that King had been able to hover on the outskirts of the sophomore mob without detection or question.
The last time Dade Morgan had seen the man whom he had come to call Hector King, the latter was in the disguise of a Hindu juggler. The pretended juggler had been unmasked by Frank Merriwell, to whom he stood revealed as Brandon Drood, alias Dion Santenel, the hypnotist, the deadly enemy of Frank and his father, whose ruin and disgrace he sought with a bitterness and tenacity almost beyond comprehension. Dade had dragged him from the room in which Merriwell had hypnotized him, and forced from him an important confession—Frank having overthrown him by his own methods, in his chosen field, and on his own battle-ground—had dragged him away, and thus prevented Frank from making him a prisoner and taking steps for his punishment.
“You are losing your customary calm!” Santenel cynically repeated.
“And it seems to me you are losing your customary caution!”
“I can look out for myself!” Santenel answered somewhat tartly. “You lost your temper and made an ass of yourself. How long do you suppose you can hold your influence in Yale by acting in that way? A man who would be a master of others must learn first to master himself. That is the very primer of the whole thing—the first lesson.”
“Oh, well!” Dade snarled. “That stuff made me sick!”
He was about to say more, but ceased when he observed that they were being followed.
“That’s a student, sure! Yes, and it’s Dick Starbright!”
“Let’s move on!” said Santenel. “I don’t care to make intimate acquaintances among your student friends.”
He emphasized the word “friends” in a way that made Dade writhe, for he knew how Dade hated the big freshman. Though they walked on, it was soon apparent that Starbright was following them. They did not like the lighted streets, so they turned into the green, but Starbright sauntered after them.
“I’m going to halt and see what the scoundrel means by that,” Dade declared, stopping. Santenel did not object, but walked on.
Dade waited impatiently and angrily by the side of the path.
“You’ve been following me!” he cried curtly, when Starbright came up.
“Yes,” said Dick; “I’ve a settlement to make with you.”
Dade coaxed the smile to his face.
“I’m not a bone, to be followed and sniffed at by a dog like you!”
Starbright angrily reddened.
“You’ve been following me all evening!” Dade continued.
“That’s a lie.”
Dade clenched his fist.
“You followed me to Mrs. Throckmorton’s this evening. You stood on the steps, eavesdropping, trying to hear what I might say. You’re a sneaking puppy!”
He was white with wrath, and found it impossible to keep that famous smile on his face.
“Go on!” said Dick coldly. “The more you say, the more occasion I shall find for thumping you to my complete satisfaction when I begin on you. I did not follow you to Mrs. Throckmorton’s. I went there to make a call on Miss Thornton, hearing that she is to leave the city soon. I was a fool for going, I’ll admit. When I mounted the steps——”
“Crept up like a sneaking dog, you mean!” interrupted Dade, holding himself in readiness for the blow which he expected.
“When I mounted the steps I overheard you talking to Miss Thornton, for you were speaking so loud that I couldn’t help hearing. You know what you said to her. I caught only a few words, but enough to understand the whole thing. I have seen it all along, but have had no proof of it till now. You went with her simply because you thought it would hurt me and make me jealous. You thought me weak enough to throw myself into the saloons and make a fool of myself generally. You have seen that I did nothing of the kind, and now, having failed in your object, you throw her over with no feeling whatever, showing you to be a thoroughbred cad!”
Dade was trembling, but fear of the big freshman’s fist made him cautious. In spite of his bluster and sharp words he had learned to respect that fist and the man behind it.
“Is that all?” he sneered.
“No. It won’t be enough until I have taught you to respect women. I regret that I have been compelled to mention Miss Thornton in this matter. She is a lady, and has had the misfortune to become acquainted with a conscienceless villain and to be made his tool. I shouldn’t have mentioned her name, but I want you to understand just what I mean.”
He slipped up his sleeves.
“There is no other way to redress such things, and, as Miss Thornton doesn’t happen to have a brother to do this for her, I shall take the pleasure. Put up your hands, you scoundrel, or I’ll knock you down!”
There was no mistaking the tone of Dick Starbright’s voice. Morgan glanced round. The place was isolated and poorly lighted, and Dion Santenel had disappeared.
“Defend yourself!” Dick hissed.
Dade backed away, but he put up his hands, for he saw that Starbright meant to strike him.
“Why, you puppy!” he snarled.
The freshman’s big fist caught him on the cheek and almost lifted him from his feet.
The blow drove away every atom of fear from the heart of Morgan and filled him with inconceivable wrath. Gathering himself, he rushed at Starbright with the ferocity of a mad dog. But again that huge fist met him and knocked him backward.
“Come again!” said Starbright, as coolly as if he were merely sparring in the gymnasium. “I want to hammer that villainous smile off your face. Your friends won’t think you so handsome in the morning!”
Morgan tried to calm his raging heart. He saw that if he did not he would be knocked out in short order. So, instead of making another mad rush, he called to his aid all his undoubted skill, and began to circle slowly about Starbright, looking warily for an opening.
Twice Starbright lunged at him, and twice Morgan dodged out of the way. Then, with a quick leap, Morgan sprang in and landed a resounding blow.
Dick, finding an opening, then drove his terrible right with such weight that Morgan went down on the grass with stunning force.
Thud! A club in the hands of Dion Santenel fell on Starbright’s head, blinding and stunning him. The club was lifted again and hung poised in the air.
Then there was a swish of a rope, which was preceded by light, springy footsteps, and the club, while poised in mid-air, was plucked from the hand of Santenel.
“No, ye don’t!” came in the roaring voice of Bill Higgins, the cowboy. “Fair play’s a jewel, and I’m the jeweler that sees ’t gits a proper settin’, b’jing!”
Santenel knew that voice only too well. He had met Higgins while posing as the Hindu juggler, and knew that Higgins was the friend of Merriwell. Visions of a capture and unpleasant interview with Frank, and other disagreeable consequences, flashed through his mind. The club had been torn from his hand, and he was weaponless. So, without stopping to further take the part of Dade Morgan, who was struggling to his feet, Santenel hurried off and disappeared behind the trees, Higgins looking after him, as if he did not know whether to follow and rope him or let him get away.
Dade rose to his feet, his face distorted with anger, pain, and baffled hate. He dared not again face the fist of Dick Starbright.
“I don’t care to fight you further, when you’ve got help!” he sneered, his words trembling and his whole form shaking. “But I’ll settle with you yet, Starbright!”
“Any time!” said Dick, pulling down his sleeves. “I’ve more where that came from!”
Though his head was throbbing and he felt a trickle of blood on his face, caused by the blow of the club, he stood erect again, firmly facing Dade Morgan.
“I’ll settle with you for this!” Morgan slowly repeated, as if his brain were in a whirl and his mind still incoherent. Then he flung the cowboy a look of hate and disdain, and walked away in the direction taken by Santenel.
“Who was that there feller? The one that hit ye with the club?” asked Higgins, staring in the direction Dade was taking. “I ’low I was a fool to let him go.”
It was a question that Dick could not answer.
“There was only one thing I clearly understood about that business, and that was that you ran up against a bigger man than you could handle!” said Santenel, when they reached Morgan’s room.
“Oh, don’t say anything more about it!”
Santenel took a seat by the fire, while Dade applied liberal douches of hot water to his battered head.
“But I want to know about it. I stood behind one of those trees while you were engaged with that big two-fisted cyclone, and I had my curiosity aroused. My advice to you is to keep away from him. He’s too much for you. What did he tackle you about? I couldn’t just make out!”
Dade dropped the hot towel he had been holding to his face, walked to a drawer, drew out a photograph and threw it into Santenel’s lap.
“That!”
“Quarreling about this girl?”
“Yes, if you must know. I didn’t care anything for her—not a thing! and I only went with her to spite him and make him jealous. I was fool enough to think it might drive him to drink. Either he didn’t care for her as much as I supposed, or that story of his all-absorbing appetite for liquor is a fairy-tale. I found out that I was wasting my time, and I threw her over. He heard about it, and he—well, you saw what he did!”
His face crimsoned; not with shame for his treatment of Rosalind Thornton, but because he had been worsted so completely by Starbright, and the memory of it stung him to the quick.
“A handsome girl!” commented Santenel. “Well, you failed!”
He seemed in a lenient mood, and tossed the photograph back. He remembered that he, too, had met with a bitter failure some days before, when he thought he had Frank Merriwell completely under his hypnotic control, only to discover, when too late and after he himself had been hypnotized by Frank, that Merriwell had been playing with him all along for the purpose of getting him in his power and unmasking him. The recollection was quite as irritating as that which so stung Dade Morgan.
Dade gave the photograph a savage kick, which landed it in the fire. Santenel watched it leap into flame and crisp and curl to ashes. A cynical smile sat on his cold lips, and the leaping flame seemed to light up kindred fires in the depth of his black eyes. They were peculiar eyes; and, as he sat staring into the grate, the pupils appeared to contract and expand somewhat like those of a cat.
“You are wondering why I am here again?” he said, at length, to Dade, who had gone back to his hot towels. Dade affected a show of indifference.
“I knew you would tell me after a while—when you got ready!”
“I’m back here because I never give up. I never yet was defeated at anything which I seriously undertook, and I never will be. You know my purpose?”
He spoke in a low, droning tone, seeming to direct his words to the dim face of a girl which he fancied he could still see in the ashes of the photograph—spoke in so low a monotone that, though the words were clearly heard by Dade, they could not have been overheard by any one with less alert ears or beyond the room.
“You have told that to me scores of times!”
“You’re no more likely to forget it than I am. But you thought I failed and abandoned the field. You were mistaken. You don’t know me yet as you ought. I can still crush Merriwell and his father, and I shall do it. That’s what I’m here to talk about—to plan for.”
Dade did not answer, though he stood with a hot cloth to his face, staring at Santenel in a fascinated way. There was so strong a bond between them, and the capabilities of the greater villain were of so sublime and audacious a character that Dade felt drawn to him, as an inferior mind to a superior.
Santenel was thinking, as he looked at the face in the ashes of the photograph—thinking first of a face somewhat like that, which he had known and loved so many years ago, then of his life since those distant days, and particularly of his connection with the elder Merriwell, whom he had deeply wronged—Merriwell, who had hounded him throughout the world, and whom he was now determined to crush at once and forever in the most humiliating way that his fiendish inventiveness could suggest.
“You want to get even with the young fellow who knocked you out a while ago?” he asked, at last arousing himself, but speaking in that same low monotone, as if addressing the picture. Dade, who had not taken his eyes off the strange man, started at the sound of his voice.
“Be careful, or you will be heard!”
Santenel sat more erect, shrugged his shoulders, passed a hand half-dreamily over his darkened and stained face.
“I’ve studied something of acoustics,” he answered. “You couldn’t have heard that yourself if your ears hadn’t been on edge.”
“I hate him!” snarled Dade, speaking of Starbright. “I shall never rest until I’ve wiped out the insult of those blows to-night.”
“You can’t do it by going at him face to face and fist to fist. He would simply knock you out again. You must try another way. Only fools and pugilists resort to slugging-matches to settle real or fancied wrongs. A man who is a mere bulldog fighter is only a bungler and blunderer. There are other ways, surer ways, safer ways.”
Dade had crushed the towel in his tremulous hand and was still staring at Santenel, as if the reserved and unseen power of this terrible man enchained him.
“There are two things!” Santenel droned on, dropping his shoulders and sinking lower in his chair, as he again seemed to talk to the fire. “I want to strike Charles Conrad Merriwell, and you want to even your score with Dick Starbright. Both can be done at the same time.”
Dade leaned forward, his face working with hate against Starbright.
“How?” he whispered. “Only tell me how?”
“I had Charles Merriwell in my power a short time ago, and his son broke my grip and got him away. I must get him in my power again. I can’t do it while Frank Merriwell is here in New Haven, for his father will not leave the place now for a number of days, and it may be weeks and months. He fears me too much since that. Frank must be lured out of the city.”
“How are you to do it?” Dade demanded.
“Get him away on a ball-game, or some kind of game.”
“The football season is over.”
“There is a polo-team at New London.”
“Merriwell might play them if they would come here.”
“He must play them there.”
“He won’t do it.”
“He must be made to do it.”
“How?”
“That’s for you to answer. Perhaps I can help you. But it must be done. Starbright is on his team?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I thought. They must play the New London polo-team in New London. And while they are over there I will work my plans to get Charles Conrad Merriwell again in my power. But Frank must be out of New Haven. Must be lured out, I say. I can’t cope with him, and I must have a clear track here if I am to win. I know I can win if he can be led away. I don’t care how you do it, so it is done. Perhaps I can help you.”
He sunk his head deeper between his shoulders, and his eyes blazed as brightly as the fire.
“And Starbright?” Dade anxiously and tremulously asked, for he was, at the moment, more interested in the overthrow of Starbright than of Merriwell.
“A polo-game is a rough game, and a polo-stick may be a dangerous weapon in the hands of the right man. If there is not a man on the New London team who will do the work for you, scheme some way to get a man on that team who will. I have heard of men having their arms broken in such games. I see no reason why a man mightn’t be killed in such a game!”
He spoke as coldly as if his eyes were not flames of fire and his heart a seething volcano. Dade flushed and paled, while his breath came panting hot from between his lips.
“I’ll do it!” he said, gasping out the promise. “I’ll do it, somehow. I’ll need money to work the trick, maybe, and a lot of it. Money can do anything, if a fellow only has enough of it.”
Santenel turned on him those awful eyes. The pupils had shrunk to a pin-point in size and Dade shivered, for they seemed to shoot out at him points of fire.
“You’re a devil!” he half-gurgled to himself, but the words caught the keen ears of Santenel.
“Only a villain, with the purse of Fortunatus! How much will you need? I’ll help you out of what I won from Frank Merriwell in those poker-games with him, when I was trying to conquer him and he conquered me. There will be an added pleasure in fighting him with his own money. The battle isn’t lost, Dade; the fighting has only begun!”
He felt in an inner pocket, and taking out a roll of bills, threw it to Dade.
“That’s a good deal more than I obtained from Merriwell. But take it. We can’t afford to count the cost. Spend it like water. A thousand dollars will buy half the thugs in New York. Get the right men on that New London polo-team, and do what you please with Starbright; just so you secure for me a clear field here in New Haven. We’ll have money enough after we have won out!”
Dade took the roll, looked it through with paling and flushing face, for he saw that Santenel had been more than generous, then he tucked it away in his pocket.
“I could buy up the police force of New Haven with that!” he laughed. “Don’t be afraid but that I’ll put it where it will do the most good!”