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"Thutteration! I don't believe I've thought of the baby in twenty-four hours."
"Oo, how could you be so cruel not to theenk of the babee?" murmured his wife. "I theenk of eet efry hour. I hope you are not going to be seek, Ephraim."
"Bless ye, Teresa, I couldn't get sick if I wanted to. Jest yeou let me alone, and I'll be all right. Guess I've gut a case of fan-tods."
"What ees them fan-tods? Ees eet the same as the malaria I hear you say they have sometimes een the United States?"
"Nope. The fan-tods are something like the blues. A feller gits them when he realizes he's one of the biggest chumps walkin' raound on two laigs."
She could get nothing more out of him, and finally she sought her friend, Juanita Garcia, to whom she confided her fears that Ephraim was on the verge of a sick spell.
Gallup wandered off by himself and strolled around the grounds, with his head down and his hands in his pockets, occasionally muttering and growling in a disgusted manner.
Barney Mulloy found an opportunity to follow Ephraim.
"Come on, Eph," he said, slipping an arm through Gallup's, "let's you and Oi go for a warruk. You nade it, my bhoy--you nade it."
"If yeou'll jest take me daown to the lake and kick me in, I'll be much obleeged to ye, Barney," said the Vermonter.
"It's moighty bad you're faling, Oi dunno?"
"By gum! I oughter feel bad. Yeou heard Frank talking about jest sech gol-dinged chumps as I be. He made me so tarnal disgusted with myself that I wanted to find a hole and crawl into it. The trouble was that I didn't know where I could find a hole small enough."
"It's a livel head Frankie has, Ephie."
"You bet your boots!"
"Whin he got through talkin' Oi was ashamed to think Oi'd ever even contimplated makin' a bet."
"And I was the blamed idiot that done the betting, Barney! I thought I was kinder showin' my nerve. Naow I know I didn't show much of anything but foolishness. Barney, I'm married. I've got one of the finest little women that ever stood in shoe leather. And the kid--by gum! the kid's a ripper! Together me and yeou have made a pretty good thing in that railroad business. I was brung up on a farm in Vermont. It was called a pretty good farm, too. My old man was reckoned well off in that community, but his whole farm wasn't wuth more'n half what I've made in the last year. It took him years of hard diggin' and scratchin' to git that place and clear it of debt. Daown in them parts a man that's wuth ten thousand dollars is reckoned slappin' rich. They make every cent caount there, Barney. If them folks want anything that costs a dime and they kin git along any way without it, they git along without it and save the dime. That's what they call New England thrift. My dad had to scratch gravel pretty hard to send me to school. I helped aout some myself, but I'd never gut my schoolin' if he hadn't pinched and saved for me. Naow here I be, wuth more money in my own right than he's ever been able to scratch together in his life, and I'm jest darned fool enough to resk that money on a game of baseball. I kinder cal'late we're goin' to win that game, but it's jest as Frank says--we may lose it. If we do, where'll I be?"
"Howld on, Ephie--howld on!" exclaimed the young Irishman. "Tell me something, my bhoy."
"What is it?"
"How much did yez bet on thot game?"
"If I tell ye, I want yer to promise never to say nuthin' abaout it to Frank. If I win that bet, I'm goin' to give every cent of my winnings to some charitable inst.i.tution. I mean it, by ginger! If I win that bet, yeou'll never ketch me in a sc.r.a.pe like this ag'in if I live to be four thousand years old."
"Thot's a good resolution to make, Ephie. Ye know you can trust me.
Oi'll say nivver a worrud about it to Frankie. How much did yer bet?"
"Ten thousand dollars."
Mulloy came near falling in his tracks. He caught Gallup by the arm and held on to support himself.
"Tin thousand?" he gasped. "Tin thousand dollars? Ye don't mane it!"
"That's jest what I bet. Dad bim me for a fool!"
"Howly saints! It's crazy ye were, Ephie!"
"Call me anything yeou want to."
Barney was completely overcome. He realized that Gallup had spoken the truth, and now he understood why his old comrade had appeared so worried and broken up.
"Oi don't blame yez for wearing a face a yarrud long, Ephie," he said.
"Tell me how it happened, me bhoy."
Gallup related the particulars. As he told how Silence had sneered and mocked, the young Irishman began to grow warm.
"It's roight Frankie is about betting," said Mulloy; "but divvil a bit different could Oi have done mesilf, Ephraim. It's wake and feeble crathers we are. Gallup, me bhoy, Oi'm your side parthner. We're going to do our bist to win thot game to-morrow. But if we lose, so help me, Oi'll nivver spake to yez again unless we take half the money Oi have in the Wellsburg Bank! Oi'll divvy with ye to me last cint. Now do brace up, Ephraim. It's not broke ye'll be. Ye'll have plenty av time to think what a thunderin' fool ye've made av yersilf. But let's not cry over it now."
"I couldn't take half of your money, Barney. That wouldn't be right. No, sir, I'll never do that."
Gallup clenched his fist and pushed it up under Ephraim's nose.
"Ye'll take it or Oi'll knock the stuffin' out av yez!" he said. "Ye'll take it or ye'll have a doctor to bind up yer wounds. Thot's sittled.
Come, now, let's go back to the house and make belave we're happy.
To-morrow we'll play baseball loike the divvil himsilf!"
CHAPTER x.x.xVII.
A PROTEST.
The morning paper from Wellsburg arrived in Bloomfield at seven o'clock.
Before the coming of Frank Merriwell to Bloomfield this morning paper had been able to boast of barely a dozen regular subscribers or purchasers in the little town. Now, however, things were different, and Bloomfield took fully fifty copies of the paper each morning. The formerly indifferent citizens had become eagerly anxious to get the paper as soon as possible after its arrival each morning in order to be posted on the county and State news.
The increasing circulation in Bloomfield had been noted by the editor of the _Herald_, who wisely decided to have a regular correspondent in that town who would furnish a daily news letter. This correspondent had faithfully reported the reunion of Frank Merriwell's old flock and the doings of the house party at Merry Home.
Between eight and nine o'clock each forenoon Frank found a short period of rest from his duties at Farnham Hall. On the morning following the arrangements for the ball game with the Rovers he jogged into town in company with Hodge and called at the post office for his mail.
Something unusual seemed to be taking place at the post office. More than a dozen villagers were a.s.sembled there in two or three groups, all of them talking earnestly and some appearing decidedly excited. Merry observed that many of them held Wellsburg _Heralds_ in their hands.
"What's up, Frank?" questioned Hodge. "Suppose the advertis.e.m.e.nt of that game to-day has kicked up all this disturbance?"
"I can't tell," answered Merry. "Perhaps we'll find out."
As they stepped inside they heard a tall, thin-lipped man declaiming in a sharp, rasping voice:
"You'll find out, neighbors, that my predictions will come true. They're coming true already. The spirit of frivolity and sin is running riot in this town. Wickedness is rampant. Staid and respectable citizens are losing their dignity. Good church members are becoming afflicted with this worldly spirit. And who's to blame for it all--who's to blame?
There's only one man. He's created this indescribable change. The foolish ones have regarded him as a public benefactor, but I insist that he's doing untold harm. He brought about the downfall of Brother Hewett, who was respected and revered by every one in Bloomfield for years.
You're afraid of him--that's what's the matter. You don't dare to speak out and express yourself. Now I'm not afraid of him. I am ready to denounce him in public. I'm ready to denounce him to his face. You know who I mean. His name is---- Er, hum! How!"
"Good morning, Deacon Crabtree," said Frank, as the speaker stammered and hemmed, having ceased abruptly in his remarks. "I notice that, as usual, you are denouncing sin and wickedness. Bloomfield should be proud of the fact that it has one man who makes no compromise with iniquity.