CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIII.

FRANK AND THE POLICEMAN.

O’Farrel gasped.

“Here! here! here!” he cried; “don’t be afther tryin’ any av yer funny thricks on me! Oi won’t shtand fer it!”

“There is nothing funny about this; it is sober, serious business. Although you have not been long on the force, Mr. O’Farrel, you have distinguished yourself by your courtly bearing, your utter fearlessness and your politeness to the ladies. You have been a bright and shining star on the New Haven force, shedding brilliant effulgence around you, so that, although in your modesty you were not aware of it, you were regarded with admiration and esteem by a large number of citizens. Whenever you were on night duty, the belated citizen who passed over your beat felt that he was safe, for he knew you were a terror to footpads. In the daytime the ladies went blocks out of their way in order to have you escort them across the street. The moment it was known that you had been injured, there was general sorrow and indignation. Then it was that your friends showed themselves, and they have raised a fund to be paid you as long as you shall be incapacitated for work.”

O’Farrel nearly lost his breath.

“In—inca—— Pwhat’s thot mane?” he gurgled.

“It means as long as you are unable to perform your duties.”

“Is thot it? Oi didn’t know but it wur th’ name av some new disease. You don’t be afther tellin’ me thot th’ citizens av New Haven are goin’ to pay me fer bein’ hurted?”

“Exactly that.”

“Oi’ll belave it whin Oi receive th’ money.”

“Here is your first week’s payment,” said Frank, producing a roll of bright new bills and dangling them before the officer’s eyes.

“Let me fale ’em,” said O’Farrel, reaching out.

“Wait a bit,” said Frank, putting the money behind his back. “There is a condition. You can do a certain person a favor.”

“Oi thought there wur something behind all thot. Pwhat shall Oi do?”

“Keep your mouth shut.”

“Kape me mouth shut? How?”

“About the manner in which you were hurt. Tumble? Catch on?”

O’Farrel looked doubtful.

“Oi dunno,” he confessed. “Will ye be afther makin’ it a bit plainer?”

“That’s easy. Certain persons in New Haven—friends to you—are interested in the chaps who were concerned in this unfortunate affair. They are also interested in you. They do not wish you to bring harm to the students, and they do not wish you to be at any loss on account of that unfortunate encounter.”

The injured man looked still more bewildered.

“It’s big worruds ye are afther usin’ now,” he said, hazily. “Oi’m worse mixed thin Oi wur before.”

“I am trying to make it plain that it is for your interest not to push this matter. Doctor says you are not much hurt. It was a boy who hurt you. You are an officer, and you do not want it known that a boy without a whisker on his face did you up. Some folks might think you were no good. The ladies who have walked blocks out of their way to have you assist them across the street would turn their backs on you. The citizens who have felt perfectlysafe while passing along your beat at night would feel safe no longer. Burglars and footpads who have trembled at the mention of your name would sneer at you. You would fall into deep disgrace. It is more than likely that you would be fired from the force as inefficient.”

O’Farrel blinked and gasped again.

“Begobs! Oi niver thought av thot,” he muttered.

“You can see it plainly enough now. You must state that the fellow who slammed you against the post was a giant—six feet four. Say he caught you from behind. Say another fellow hit you with a baseball bat. Say you are satisfied you were mistaken in thinking them students. Say they must have been hoodlums of the town.”

“An’ pwhat do Oi get fer thot?”

“This!”

Again Frank flourished the money before Patsy O’Farrel’s greedy eyes.

“You get this now,” declared Frank. “You get as much more next week. You get another lot the next week, if the doctor says you are not fit to go back to duty.”

“Begorra! it’s a timptation.”

“No temptation; an act of friendship on the part of your friends. And your friends are working for your good.”

“Pwhat av they bring th’ spalpane that did it before me?”

“You must fail to recognize him. That is easy. You might say you never saw him before. You might call attention to the fact that you are an officer who could handle such a boy with one hand. You might become indignant to think that anybody fancied such a boy could do you up.”

“It’s a good schame; but Oi’m not sure this ain’t a thrap.”

Frank saw that he must allay O’Farrel’s suspicions, andhe talked his prettiest. When he made the effort, Frank could be extremely suave and persuasive. Never in his life was he more persuasive than just at that time. Occasionally he would flourish the bright, new bills before O’Farrel’s eyes.

At last the officer succumbed. He took the money, and then Frank snapped out a little book, saying:

“Sign here, Mr. O’Farrel.”

“Soign! Soign pwhat?”

“Your name.”

“Th’ divvil Oi will! Ye don’t catch me thot way! Whoy should Oi sign me name, Oi dunno?”

“Receipt. That’s all. Reads like this: ‘Received of Frank Merriwell the sum of twenty-five dollars, in consideration of which I agree to his proposal.’ That’s simple.”

“It looks loike a thrap.”

“No trap.”

“Phwat av ye wur to show thot recate against me?”

“You could swear that the proposal was any old thing. If I swore it was something else, your word is as good as mine. As you are an officer, it should be a little better. This is a mere formality—a matter of business. I always take a receipt when I pay out money.”

“It’s an Oirishman ye ought to be, me b’y,” declared O’Farrel, admiringly. “It’s a slick tongue ye have in th’ head av yez.”

Then he signed the receipt, and Frank left the hospital, feeling well satisfied with the result of his visit.

“I believe Hodge is safe now,” he thought.

He was right. Somebody “blowed” on Hodge, and Bart was taken before O’Farrel. The injured policeman looked him over, and then positively stated that Hodge was not the one who slammed him against the post. He added that he did not remember Bart at all.

Hodge was released.

Ned Noon swore when he learned of this.

“Beastly luck!” he grated. “Thought I had fixed it so Hodge would get snapped. That cop must be a fool!”

Others were taken before O’Farrel, Browning among them, but he failed to say that he recognized one of them.

The town lads who had been engaged in the affair kept still, fearing they would get into trouble if they came forward and told what they knew.

All were astonished when O’Farrel failed to recognize Hodge, for it was not known that Bart had been saved by the hand of a friend.

It was a great relief for Hodge, who had feared the outcome of his passionate act.

As often as possible the regular nine and the “scrub” got out for practice.

Hodge had not been given a trial on the regulars, for all of his good work on the scrub team.

“We’ll fix that, old man,” said Frank Merriwell. “Haggerty and Walbert are going to be tried in the box next time, while I am to pitch against the regulars. Haggerty, you know, is the little chap who came here from Williams. He pitched against Yale year before last, and held Old Eli down to seven singles. Without doubt he is a good man. Walbert is an Andover man, who may show up well, although he is rather new.”

“How are you going to fix the regulars?” asked Bart, eagerly.

“I am going to pick the scrub to suit myself.”

“How will you make up the team?”

“You and I will make the battery, and I shall put Browning on first.”

“What?” shouted Bart, astonished. “You can’t mean it?”

“Why not?”

“Why, he is too lazy to draw his breath, to say nothing of playing ball.”

“That’s all right. He will play for me.”

“And he will be worse than a wooden man on first bag.”

“Not on your life! I know Browning. He is all right.”

“Can’t see how you can say that, Frank. His laziness is something awful. He won’t be able to stir out of his tracks to stop a hit or a wild throw.”

“Don’t believe yourself, my boy. You seem to have forgotten that he covered first for us when we played against Fort Worth.”

“No, I have not forgotten. But he was in different condition then. He had worked himself down during the trip across the continent. There was some life in him then, but now——”

“You shall see there is some life in him now. I can wake him up, if anybody can, and I’ll do it. He will do anything for me.”

“Perhaps he might if he thought it of any importance, but he will not think so about a game against the regulars. He’ll say it’s simply to give the regulars practice, and he won’t stir up.”

“You’ll see what he will do after I talk to him. He will surprise you, and you won’t be the only one.”

“All right; have your own way. I know you will, no matter what I say. Who are the others?”

“Diamond on second.”

“He’s all right.”

“Rattleton on third.”

“He’s fair, but Flobert is a better man.”

“I’d rather have Rattleton, for he is another fellow who will break his neck, if necessary, for me. I can get out of him all there is in him, and Flobert sulks sometimes.”

“All right. Suit yourself. Who will play short?”

“Haven’t decided on that position yet. There are two or three to choose from.”

“Take Fales.”

“What Fales?”

“Freshman. Good player. I recommend him.”

“Well, we’ll take Fales if you say so.”

“Now, how have you fixed the outfield. Who is in right?”

“Tom Thornton.”

“Good man?”

“Pretty good. I’ve taken him for his batting. If he could play as well all round as he can bat, he’d be on the regulars.”

“Middle?”

“Jones.”

“What, the fellow you call Dismal?”

“Same.”

“Why, he’s too sad and slow to play ball!”

“Wait till you have seen him. He can wake up, and he’ll throw almost as well as Ephraim Gallup. If he gets a good chance, he’ll surprise somebody.”

“Who’s the left fielder?”

“Joe Gamp.”

Hodge gasped.

“That beats all!” he cried. “Why, that fellow is a regular blunder-heels. He can’t play marbles!”

“Wait and see. He’ll be another surprise, or I’m mistaken. He is a slugger with a stick, and no mistake. Tried to fool him one day, and he seemed able to rap out anything I gave him. He dug ’em out of the dirt with his bat, took ’em two feet off from the base, and reached up into the air and drove ’em out. The pitcher who tries to fool him will drop dead before the game is over.”

“Well,” said Bart, slowly, “you have seemed to be a pretty good judge of ball players, old man, but I think youare away off this time. You have named the most confounded aggregation ever seen around here.”

“The other side will be confounded,” smiled Frank. “Wait and see, old man. All I ask of you is to do your prettiest.”

“You may be sure I will.”

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