Frank Merriwell's Triumph Part 28

"That settles it!" roared Dan. "I will fix yer in thirty seconds now."

"Dear, dear!" yawned Wiley, leaning on the bar. "How sleepy I am! I think this bout should have been pulled off under Marquis of Deusenbury rules. I, too, am against the use of feet. Cut it out, mates, and come down to real business."

"Very well," said Frank.

"You kick no more?" questioned the ruffian.

"Not to-day."

"Then I thumps the head off you right away."

Spotted Dan sailed into it then, and for a few moments the fight was rather lively, although the ruffian was doing all the hitting. That is, he was trying to do all the hitting, but he was wasting his blows on the air, for Frank parried them all or ducked and dodged and escaped by such cleverness as none of Dan's comrades had ever before witnessed. Still the bruiser was the aggressor, and they were confident he would soon weary the youth, when a single blow would bring about the finish of the encounter.

Indeed, one thing that led Dan on and made him force the fight harder and harder was the fact that Merry seemed to be panting heavily and betrayed signs of great exhaustion. The desperado was sure the youth was giving out, and so, although he was likewise somewhat winded, he continued to follow Merry up. At length, quick as a flash, Frank's manner changed. He no longer retreated. He no longer sought to escape his enemy. He made Dan parry two heavy blows aimed at him. Then he countered, and the big fellow was sent reeling. Like a wolf Frank followed the bruiser up, hitting him again and again until he went down.

Cap'n Wiley roused up a little at this and observed:

"That's somewhat better. Now it grows slightly interesting. But he hasn't oiled his machinery and started in earnest yet. Wait a few moments, gents, and see him cut parabolical circles through the diametrical s.p.a.ce around Daniel's dizzy cranium."

Spotted Dan sat up, astonished beyond measure at what had happened. He saw Frank standing at a little distance, with his hands on his hips, smiling down at him and showing not the least sign of exhaustion. The man who had seemed winded a few moments before and ready to drop was now as fresh and unwearied as if nothing had happened.

Through the bruiser's dull brain crept a suspicion that he had been deceived by this handsome, smooth-faced young man. He knew now that Merriwell could fight in the most astounding manner. This, however, enraged him to such an extent that he banished reason and coolness and rose to charge on Merry, with a roar like that of a mad bull. Frank avoided the rush, but hit the ruffian a staggering blow on the ear as he went past. Dan turned quickly and charged again.

Four times the big bruiser charged, and four times Merry avoided him and sent him reeling. The fourth time Frank followed him up. He gave Spotted Dan no chance to recover. Blow after blow rained on the man's face and body. Dan was driven back until he was close upon the card table that sat in the rear of the room. Then, with a swinging upward blow, Merriwell's fist hit the fellow on the point of the jaw, and the ruffian was actually lifted off his feet and hurled clean over the table against the wall. He fell to the floor and lay there in a huddled, senseless heap, literally knocked out.

Frank turned toward the bar, rolling down his sleeves.

"Watch his pards like a hawk, Wiley," he said. "Now is the time they may try treachery, if ever."

"Depend on me," nodded the sailor.

Frank quickly slipped on his coat and placed his hat upon his head. Then he turned to the amazed ruffians, saying, quietly:

"Gents, you heard the agreement between us. If I whipped that fellow, the engagement which he claims to have made for himself and for you through Cap'n Wiley was off. I think you will acknowledge that he is whipped. That settles it."

He backed toward the door of the saloon, followed by the sailor, also backing in the same manner and keeping his pistols ready. When the door was reached Merry turned and disappeared, and Wiley followed him.

CHAPTER XIII.

MACKLYN MORGAN APPEARS.

"Mate," said Cap'n Wiley, as they hurried along the street on their way back to the hotel, "you are in every minute particular the finest specimen of exuberant manhood that it has ever been my fortune to a.s.sociate with. Of course, I felt sure you would do up that fellow, but you came through the seething and turgid fray without so much as a scar.

I don't believe he even touched you once."

"Yes, he did," said Merry, "a couple of times. He hit me on the shoulder, but the blow was spent, and he caught me a fair one over the heart. I leaped away just in time to spoil the effectiveness of that."

"But you are certainly the supreme fighter of this period of sc.r.a.ppers.

If you chose to enter the ring, you might be champion of the world. It would delight my soul to be able to put up a real fight like that."

"It disgusts me," returned Merry.

"Wha-a-at?" gasped the sailor. "I think I fail to catch your meaning."

"It disgusts me," repeated Merry. "If there is anything that makes me feel degraded, it is being compelled to take part in a fight of that sort. I was practically forced into it on this occasion. I saw those fellows meant mischief, and I felt that the only way to settle the affair was to give that big duffer a thumping. It's about the only reasoning a man can use on men of his calibre. Words and arguments fail to affect them, and a good thras.h.i.+ng moves them to respect."

"But do you mean to tell me," said Wiley, "that you are not an admirer of the manly art of self-defense? Do you mean to tell me that you take no interest in the prize ring and the glorious heroes of it?"

"If there is anything for which I have absolutely no use," said Merry, "it is a professional prize fighter. To me prize fighting is the most degrading of all the so-called sports."

"This is more than pa.s.sing strange," said the sailor. "If such can be the case, will you elucidate to me how it happened that you ever learned to use your little dukes in such a marvelously scientific manner?"

"I think it is the duty of every American youth to learn to defend himself with his fists. No matter how peacefully inclined he is, no matter how much of a gentleman he is, no matter how much forbearance he may have, there is bound to come a time in his life when he will be forced to fight or suffer insults or bodily injury. As a rule, I never fight if I can avoid it. In this instance I might have avoided it for the time being, but I was certain that if I did so the matter would culminate in something more serious than a fistic encounter. Had I escaped from that saloon without meeting Spotted Dan, he and all his partners would have regarded me as afraid of them, and you know very well that they would have sought to force trouble on me at every opportunity. The easiest way to settle the whole matter was to fight then and there, and therefore I did so."

"Well, you oughter feel proud of the job you did!"

"Instead of that, I feel as if I had lowered and degraded myself. I'll not throw off the feeling for some time. To make the matter still worse, it was a saloon fight. However, I do not go there to drink. Out in this country the man who does business with the men he finds here is sometimes compelled to enter a saloon."

"That's true--quite true," sighed Wiley. "I sometimes find it necessary to enter one myself."

By this time they had reached the hotel, and as they entered the office Merry suddenly paused in surprise, his eyes fastened on a man who stood before the desk.

This man was tall and well dressed, with a somewhat ministerial face and flowing grayish side whiskers. He was speaking to the clerk.

"I see here the name of Mr. Frank Merriwell on the register," he was saying. "Can you tell me where to find him?"

"Mr. Merriwell!" called the clerk. "Here is a gentleman inquiring for you."

The man at the desk turned and faced Frank.

"Is that so?" muttered Frank. "It is Macklyn Morgan!"

Morgan, one of the money kings of the great Consolidated Mining a.s.sociation of America, looked Merriwell over with a glance as cold as ice.

"How do you do, sir?" he said, in a calm, low voice. "It seems that I have found you at last."

"From your words," returned Merry, "I should fancy you had been looking for me for some time?"

"I have."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, I have looked for you in Denver, in Holbrook, and at your Queen Mystery Mine."

"It appears that I have given you considerable trouble?"