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"Don't I?" interrupted the desperate lad with the revolver. "You'll find I do! I've been jumped on by you fellows till I can't stand any more of it! This is a case of self-defense, and I can prove it so. You attacked us! I have a right to defend my life!"
It was plain that Harlow was trying to convince himself that he was in the right, and, could he do so, hating Frank Merriwell as he did, it was certain that he might shoot on the slightest provocation.
Jack stood still; for the moment he knew not what to do.
"Come here, Diamond," called Frank, sharply. "Come quick! Don't mind that fellow! If he does any shooting, I won't leave much of a job for the lynchers! I believe they string people up down in this State in a hurry!"
"Stand where you are, Diamond!" shouted Harlow.
But Jack obeyed Frank, and Harlow did not shoot.
"Now, hold this spy, and I will deal with that crook," said Frank, turning the lad he had captured over to Jack.
As soon as he had done this, Merriwell started to walk straight toward Harlow, who still had him covered with the revolver.
"Stop!" shouted Rolf, fiercely; "stop! or by the Lord Harry, I will shoot!"
"Oh, no, you won't," answered Merriwell, with the utmost confidence, as he calmly continued to advance, apparently as unconcerned as if it were a toy pistol in the hand of his enemy.
Harlow hesitated, and gasped. Reckless though he was, intensely though he hated Frank, he had not the nerve to shoot the cool lad down.
Through Harlow's head flashed a thought. What if he should pull the trigger, and the revolver failed to go off? He knew Merriwell would be on him like a furious tiger. He knew Merriwell would have no mercy.
He dared not try to shoot. The eyes of the Yale athlete were fastened steadily upon him, and there was something in their depths that made him falter.
One, two, three seconds, and then Frank's hand grasped the revolver and firmly turned it aside. Harlow seemed incapable of resistance, and, to his own astonishment, as well as to the unutterable amazement of the witnesses of the act, Frank took the revolver away without being resisted.
Diamond was paralyzed by the nerve of his friend. Although he had known Frank long, and thought he knew him fully, this act was a revelation to him.
Then it was, while Diamond was staring and muttering, that the spy suddenly struck him a terrific blow behind the ear, sending Jack to gra.s.s.
For an instant Diamond was stunned, and when he recovered, the spy was far away, running as if his very life depended on it.
Jack scrambled up as quickly as he could, and would have followed, but Frank called:
"Let him go! It's useless to chase him."
"Well, that was a fool trick of mine!" growled the Virginian, disgusted with himself. "I ought to have a leather medal!"
The boat's crew had made a landing, and now they came toward the spot on a run. Handsome, manly young chaps, from sixteen to nineteen, they were.
"Genuine Virginians, they are!" muttered Jack, admiringly. "They don't grow anything better anywhere!"
Harlow seemed cowed by what had taken place.
Since being disarmed without a struggle, all the spirit seemed to have left him. He stood still, looking sullen and uncertain, as if not quite sure what to do.
Up came the oarsmen, a solid-looking, brown-eyed lad in the lead.
"What's all this about, anyway?" he sharply asked, addressing Rolf. "Who are these chaps, and what are they doing?"
An idea came to Harlow; he grasped at it.
"They are spies-enemies!" he quickly declared. "They were watching here in the bushes. They must be connected with the Alexandria fellows."
Then the rowers, sunburned and brawny appearing, gathered about Frank and Jack, regarding them with anything but pleasant looks.
"Give it to 'em!" shouted Harlow, hoping to set the boys on Frank and Jack before any explanation could be made. "See here-don't you see one of them threatening me with a revolver? They are desperadoes!"
"In that case, gentlemen, perhaps it would be well enough not to push us too hard," coolly observed Frank, as he moved the muzzle of the revolver about in a careless manner. "Just give us time to say something for ourselves."
"Don't listen!" cried Rolf, wildly. "They will try to lie out of it, but I saw them spying!"
"Who was the chap that ran away?" asked the leader of the oarsmen, the stroke, whose name was Kent Spencer.
"He was one of them," a.s.serted Harlow.
"In that case, it is odd we didn't run away with him," smiled Frank. "We might have done so, you know."
"Well, why didn't you?" asked Spencer.
"Because there was no reason why we should run, and several reasons why we should stay. We can tell you a few things that may surprise you."
"Don't listen to their lies!" shouted Harlow. "Pitch them into the river! It's what they deserve!"
For a moment it seemed that the young oarsmen would obey him. They seemed about to precipitate themselves on the strangers. Again Frank's coolness caused a delay.
"If you want to souse us in the river after we have made our explanation, you can do so," he smiled; "but isn't it well enough to hear what we have to say first?"
"I don't see that it can do any harm," admitted Spencer. "Give the fellows a show, boys, but don't let 'em get away."
This did not suit Rolf Harlow at all, but he saw it was useless to try to urge the oarsmen on. They were inclined to obey Spencer.
"All right!" he grated; "listen to their lies, if you like. You'll be disgusted when you hear what they have to say."
Spencer eyed Harlow closely, wondering why he should be so eager to keep the strangers from speaking. He seemed to fear something that he knew would be said.
"As for lies," said Frank, "if I am not mistaken, I fancy you will hear a few from this fine gentleman who has been coaching you, but who is a traitor to you at the same time."
"A traitor!" cried Spencer. "Be careful! Mr. Harlow is a gentleman and a student of Yale College."
"A what?" shouted Diamond.
"A what?" echoed Merriwell. "Why, the nearest this fellow ever came to the inside of Yale College was Jackson's poker joint in New Haven. If he has represented himself as a student of Yale, it shows he began by lying to you right off the reel. This fellow was expelled from Harvard, and was drummed out of New Haven for cheating at cards! That's the kind of a bird he is!"
CHAPTER XII-HARLOW'S DISCOMFITURE