CHAPTER XX.HONORED BY ALL.
Frank Merriwell had not interfered. While he did not believe in fighting, he knew Dick’s cause was just, and he had wished to see if the boy could take care of himself in such an affair. The result was decidedly gratifying to Merry.
Old Joe had on many occasions watched Frank giving Dick sparring-lessons, and the savage had regarded the whole affair with supreme scorn and contempt. More than once he had tersely expressed his opinion in regard to it.
Now, however, there was such satisfaction expressed on the old fellow’s usually stony face that the look could not be mistaken. When the flushed and triumphant boy turned about after the skulking away of the bully, the redskin quickly put his arms about the lad, saying:
“Heap good work! Steady Hand teach Injun Heart mighty big white man trick with him hands. Um can fight white man way heap good! Ugh!”
This was much for the old savage to say, and it gave Dick a thrill of pride and satisfaction.
“He would have hurt you, Joe,” said the boy. “He was ready to do it!”
“No hurt me.”
“But he was ready to.”
“No hurt me,” insisted the Indian.
“Why not? You could not fight him with your fists.”
“Knife heap ready. Him strike with fist, Joe strike with knife. Cut him heart in two mighty quick!”
“It is plain that you saved the fellow’s life, Dick,” said Frank, his hand falling on the shoulder of his brother; “yet I hardly think he would thank you if he knew it. You showed that I have not wasted my time and yours in giving you boxing-lessons. I am rather proud of the way in which you put the young thug out of commission.”
“Richard, my lively young gazelle, it was a sight to gladden the heart and bring tears of joy to the eye,” put in Jack Ready. “I wanted to slip into the fracas, and gently t’ump somebody, but your greedy brother insisted that you should have all the fun. He wouldn’t let me mingle.”
The policeman now came into the midst of the crowd, and demanded to know what was happening. He regarded Old Joe with suspicion, and seemed rather anxious to arrest somebody.
A citizen, however, explained the matter to him, and he looked Dick Merriwell over curiously.
“That boy?” he asked, as if in doubt.
“That’s the one,” answered the citizen.
“Did up Squinty Jim?”
“He did.”
“I’m glad of it, but it don’t seem possible. Squinty’s one of the worst characters in this ward, and he’s always fighting and whipping somebody.”
“He struck more than his match this time.”
“The boy ought to have a medal. Who is he?”
“They say he’s Frank Merriwell’s brother. I don’t suppose you know who Frank Merriwell is——”
“Don’t I? Say, do you mean Frank Merriwell, the great athlete of Yale College?”
“Yes. There he is standing beside the boy now.”
“What? Is that the real Frank Merriwell?”
“It is. He’s stopping at the Continental.”
The officer strode up to Merry.
“Beg pardon,” he said, with an air of politeness. “Is what I’ve just heard true?”
Merry smiled, saying:
“I am sure I can’t say, sir, for I don’t know what you have just heard.”
“A man just told me that you are the genuine Frank Merriwell of Yale.”
“I must confess that the gentleman told you the truth. I am Frank Merriwell.”
“And this chap who just did up Squinty Jim is your brother?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mr. Merriwell,” said the policeman, “I want to shake hands with you. I have a boy who owes his life to you.”
The earnestness of the officer showed he was perfectly sincere, and Merry readily shook hands.
“Owes his life to me?” said Frank, in some surprise. “How is that? What have I done for your boy?”
“Saved his life, and yet you have never seen him to know him. He has seen you, though. He has seen you play football and baseball. He has read much about you in the newspapers. He was not a strong boy, and he early fell into habits of dissipation. He drank and traveled with a gang. He smoked forty and fifty cigarettes a day. He was fast becoming a total wreck when he first saw you play football here against U. of P.
“He talked about your playing for days. Then he began to find out everything he could about you. Somehow, he learned that you were not strong at one time, and he also learned that you never smoke, drink, or carouse. Something led him to resolve to be as much like you as possible. He had will-power, sir, and he at once quit his old companions, stopped drinking, and gave up smoking. The last thing was the hardest to do. It was a hard fight for him, but he conquered. Everybody had told me he would go intoquick consumption.
“That was almost two years ago. To-day my boy is healthy and strong and manly. He belongs to a Y. M. C. A. gym, where he goes regularly every night, and they say he is fast becoming an athlete. More than that, he is working to save money, and is attending a school to fit himself for college. Mr. Merriwell, I have longed to meet you, and I’ve often thought of writing to you and telling you the good you had done my boy. I cannot repay you, sir, but I take off my hat to you as the model young American, and one every true American should be proud of!”
Then, before the Continental Hotel in the city of Philadelphia, was seen the remarkable spectacle of a policeman uncovering his head to a civilian, a youth whom he had not known by sight twenty minutes before.
Dick Merriwell had heard the words of the officer, and he thrilled from his feet to his head, whispering to himself:
“It is my brother! Everybody honors him! Officers take off their hats to him! All say he is a model American youth. Ah! can I ever become thus famous and loved! I do not believe it is possible!”
Frank had been touched himself, and he now assured the officer that he desired to meet his son, which gave the man no small satisfaction, as he said:
“I’ll bring Bob round. It is one great desire of hislife to shake hands with you, and he’ll be jealous when he hears I’ve got ahead of him.”
A time was set when Frank would meet the officer’s son, that evening, and then the policeman saluted and turned away.
“I can’t believe the things me heavenly blue eyes have seen, nor those me shell-like ears have heard!” came from Jack Ready. “A cop hath lifted his tile to thee, O most noble snoozer! and his language was the language of respect, yet thou art not an alderman, nor yet a political boss. And this in Philadelphia! Ye gods! the heavens will fall next!”