Frank Merriwell's Backers: or, The Pride of His Friends

CHAPTER III.

INTO THE NIGHT

Cimarron Bill was a man who disliked being outwitted and outdone, especially by a youth of Frank Merriwell's years, and he was one who was not at all likely to let such a thing pass without seeking to recover and accomplish his object by some method, failing in which, he was almost certain to take summary and tragic vengeance on the one who had baffled him.

Merriwell knew well enough in what peril he stood, and yet he maintained his manner of composure.

Bill spoke to two of the ruffians, of whom Big Monte was one, and Sam, the red-headed rascal, the other.

"You two take charge of this here altogether too smarty young gent," said the leader of the desperadoes, "and look out for him a heap close. Don't let him come none of his slick tricks on you, for you will be held responsible for him, and I opines you know what that means."

"Oh, we'll take care of him!" said Sam significantly, as he fingered the butt of a pistol. "All I wants is a right good chance to do that!"

Bill fixed the red-head with a look of his narrow black eyes.

"At the same time," said he, "permit me to suggest that you lets no special harm come to him, as I reckons him valuable property just about now, and I may need him a whole lot later. If anything unnecessary happens to the young gent, you'll deal with me for it!"

It must be confessed that Merry felt somewhat safer in the hands of those ruffians after that, for he began to perceive that, for some reason, Bill wished to preserve him for the time being without harm.

Apparently the captive gave little heed to these words, but in truth he missed nothing.

As the others drew aside with Bill, Big Monte took a picket rope, observing:

"I allows, Sam, that we'd better be keerful, jest as the boss suggests, fer it ain't a whole lot healthy to have anything happen contrarywise to his wishes. Such bein' the case, I propose we tie up this here young gent some, so he'll not bring trouble on hisself an' us by tryin' to lope out."

Sam looked disappointed.

"I was a-thinkin'," he said, "that I'd like to see him try to lope; but sense the boss has put it so plain, I kind of changes my mind, an' I thinks your propersition is kirect. Go ahead, Monte, while I keeps him kivered with my shootin'-iron."

Frank made no objection as Big Monte tied his hands behind him. He knew it was quite useless, and so he submitted with a meekness that was rather deceptive, for it seemed to indicate that he was quite awed by his situation and the men who had taken him captive.

"I judges that will do," said the big man, having bound the rope about Merry's wrists until it was uncomfortable in its tightness. "He's good an' fast now."

Merriwell sat down on a rock, while the two ruffians flung themselves on the ground in the shadow of the wall and waited the end of the consultation between the chief and the remainder of the band.

Bill was talking to his ruffians in his low, quiet way, and they were listening. Frank wondered what was passing, but they were too far away for him to hear.

At last, one of the men, who had but one arm, started off from the others, hurrying toward the horses. Bill had thrust something into this man's hand, seeming to give him a final admonition. Five minutes later the one-armed man, mounted on the very best horse he could find, rode away at good speed.

Even then Merry did not conceive that it was the desperate purpose of One-hand Hank to follow those papers all the way to Fardale, if necessary, in the attempt to gain possession of them. He fancied that Hank meant to try to find the Indian, with the hope that the papers still remained in old Joe's possession.

Bill came back and stood looking Merriwell over. Several of the men had departed toward the spot where the horses were kept.

"I reckons you thinks yerself some slick, kid!" he said, with cold contempt. "You'll git all over that before you're through dealin' with Cimarron Bill. I'm sartin to take the conceit out of ye a whole lot."

To which Merry vouchsafed no retort.

"Bring him along," said the chief, to Sam and Monte. "We're goin' to pull up stakes and hike."

So Frank was marched up to the horses, among which was his own animal, which had been captured by the ruffians.

"If you don't mind, gentlemen," said Merry, "it would give me considerable satisfaction to imbibe a little water."

"You'll choke plumb to death afore ye ever gits a drap from me," averred Sam.

Whereupon Bill looked at the red-head sharply, saying:

"Sam, give him a drink from your canteen."

And Sam did so.

"Thanks," said Merry easily. "It was the desire for water that led me to saunter out from my place among the rocks earlier than I intended. I feel much better now."

His saddle had been brought along, and, when it was strapped upon his horse, he was tossed into it by Big Monte and another. The rest of the band had prepared to move, with the exception of those who had come from down the ravine and one fellow who seemed to have taken the place of the departed fellow with one arm. These men had horses beyond the rocky barrier that had been blown down to prevent Merriwell from escaping in that direction, and it was necessary for them to return and pursue another course, as the horses could not be brought over that barrier.

There was little delay when everything was ready. Bill took the lead, and those who were to follow did so, the captive in their midst; his horse led by one of them.

The others had turned back.

The sun was descending peacefully behind the barren mountains, and night was spreading her sable pinions over the land. There was gold in the western sky. The heat yet seemed unabated, save in the valleys and gorges; but later it would become unpleasantly cool.

In silence those men rode onward, with their dark, cruel-faced leader at their head. The hoofs of the horses clinked and rang, bestirring the echoes; and, when the gloom of night had stolen upward from the gulches, there came an occasional spark like a firefly when the iron of a hoof struck a flinty rock.

So night came on, and still they went forward. Frank wondered what their destination could be; but he saw they were taking a course that must bring them nearer the Queen Mystery Mine.

He wasted no words in seeking to engage any of them in conversation. All the while, however, his thoughts were busy. He wondered much if he could come safely through this perilous mischance and how it was to be accomplished. For Frank had not given up, and he had confidence that somehow he would find a way, or one would be opened to him.

CHAPTER IV.

IN THE OLD HUT

In a valley amid the hills that lay at the base of the barren mountains stood an old hut. Who had built it there? It seemed that it had, beyond doubt, been erected by some prospector. What fate had befallen the builder no man knew. The hut remained, weather-worn and falling to pieces.

The coming of another day found Frank Merriwell a captive in that hut, closely guarded. The ruffians had stopped there, for in the vicinity could be found wood and water, and feed for the horses.

Some time during the night they had been joined by Big Monte and the others who had turned back to secure the horses beyond the barrier in the ravine.

In the morning the men lay about in the vicinity of the hut. Two fires had been built, and breakfast was preparing.

Inside the hut an armed man kept guard over the captive. At intervals the guard was changed, but always a man was near with a pistol ready to shoot Merry down if he offered to make a break for freedom.

But Frank seemed strangely contented. After the ride through the night, he asked for a blanket to make himself comfortable, suggested in a pleasant way that it would be agreeable to have the cords about his wrists loosened a little, as they were chafing him and his wrists were swollen, and, when the ropes were entirely removed, then lay down on the blanket and went calmly to sleep.

Merry slept until one of the men brought him some breakfast. This fellow kicked him to awaken him, whereupon Frank looked up and observed:

"Gently, partner – gently! You don't have to kick in a rib in order to get my eyes open."

"Ef it wasn't fer ther boss," said the fellow, "I'd take a heap o' satisfaction in kickin' ev'ry dern rib outer ye!"

"Then I am thankful for the boss."

"Hush! Mebbe ye thinks so now; but wait till he gits round ter deal with ye. I opines he'll disterb ye some."

"Well, don't lead me into worriment before it is necessary," entreated Frank, with a smile. "As long as I'm comfortable, I see no reason to disturb myself over what may happen – for there is always a chance that it may not happen."

"Waal, not in this case. Ye've robbed us outer a clean two hundred dollars apiece by sendin' off them papers."

"Only that? Why, you seem to be cheap men! I should fancy it would take at least five hundred each to hire men to go out to commit robbery and murder."

"Thar ain't no robbery about it."

"Now, you don't tell me? Perhaps you are right, but the object was robbery, all right enough."

"Nary robbery! Ther papers belongs to ther gents what wants to git 'em an' what engaged Bill to do the job."

"Possibly I might convince you to the contrary if I had time; but just now I will admit that I'm remarkably hungry. Put down the feed right here on the floor, and I'll turn to directly."

As the man stooped to put down the stuff, as directed, he brought his head quite close to Frank's lips. In the fellow's ear Merry whispered:

"I'll make it one thousand dollars in your fist if you find a way to help me out of this scrape."

The man started a little, gave Frank a look, then glanced toward the armed guard, who had heard nothing.

Merry touched a finger to his lips, thus enjoining silence.

"Ha!" he exclaimed. "Thank Bill for me! This coffee smells most satisfactory. It will serve finely to wash down the hard bread and beef. To a healthy appetite, like mine, this will be a feast fit for an epicurean."

The ruffian looked at him in apparent wonderment.

"Fer a cool galoot, you sure are the limit!" he exclaimed.

Then he went out.

Frank wondered if his proposal to the fellow would bear fruit. He knew well enough that these men stood in great awe of Cimarron Bill; but would the greed of this one overcome his fears of the chief and lead him to attempt to set Frank at liberty?

That was a serious question.

Having eaten heartily, Merry once more made himself comfortable and slept.

When next he was awakened, Cimarron Bill himself was sitting near, smoking a Spanish cigarette.

"Good morning," said Frank.

"It's a long distance past morning," said the leader of the ruffians. "You've slept away the whole morning. You seem to be takin' it a heap easy and comfortable like."

"Just bottling up a little sleep in case of need," said Merry, sitting up and placing his back against the wall. "There's no telling when I may have to keep awake a whole lot, you know."

"Instead of keeping awake," said Bill, in a sinister manner, "you're a heap more likely to fall asleep some of these yere times an' never wake up."

"In that case, it will be of no consequence, so I am not losing anything by sleeping while I may."

The man surveyed Merry long and intently, as if trying to probe the nature of this cool youth. At last, he turned to the sentinel and dismissed him.

The sentinel went out, closing the door.

Bill lighted a fresh cigarette.

"Young man," he said, "I want to inform you right yere and now that it will do you no good whatever to try to bribe any of my men."

"Possibly not," said Frank noncommittally.

"You bet your life it won't!" said Bill emphatically. "Thar ain't one of them but what knows me, an', knowin' me, thar ain't one what would dare play me crooked. Savvy?"

"It's quite plain."

"It's straight goods, Merriwell. A while ago you offered one of 'em a thousan' dollars if he would find a way to get you out of this."

"Correct," admitted Merry immediately. "And had he accepted the offer and accomplished the job, I should have congratulated myself on getting off very cheap."

He had seen at once that it was useless to try deception or denial with Bill, and so he spoke frankly.

"That's right," nodded Bill. "A thousan' would be small money fer such a job; but it ain't no use, for none of them will take the job at that or five times as much. 'Cause why? 'Cause they knows me, Cimarron Bill, right well. They know I'd sure settle up with 'em if they done any crooked work. They have seen the notches in my guns. Some of 'em has seen me shoot."

"Well, my dear sir," smiled Merry, "I don't presume you fancied I would remain here like a man in a trance without trying to get away in some fashion?"

"I hardly opined that would be your style. But I has to warn ye that you has about one chance in fourteen million of gettin' off with a hull hide. I keep a guard inside and outside, besides another over the hosses. I don't want to shoot ye – now – but it sure will be done if you breaks an' runs fer it."

"Of course I'd have to take chances on that."

"Don't! But your offer to Jake has set me thinkin'. Somehow I kinder take to your style."

"Thanks!" laughed Merriwell.

"You has a heap of nerve for a youngster."

"Thanks again!"

"And I opine we'd make a pretty strong team together. Such bein' the case, I has a propersition to make to ye, whereby, in case you accepts, you gits outer this scrape in a hurry an' none the worse for wear."

"Let it drive," said Frank. "I'm listening."

"Like 'most ev'rybody," said Bill, "I'm out fer the dust. That's what brought me up against you. I opined you'd be easy meat. I've sorter changed my mind. You look an' talk like a tenderfoot, but I take it that you has your eye-teeth cut, an' this yere ain't the first time you've seen Arizona."

"I have been in Arizona before. I have likewise been in various parts of the West."

"I knowed it," nodded Bill. "I likewise opine you has a whole lot of fight in ye."

"Well, I rather enjoy the strenuous life."

"But you're certain up against a right powerful combination in this yere gang what means to have your mines."

"Without doubt."

"You needs assistance to hold them there mines. Such bein' the case, suppose we strikes a partnership, you an' I, an' stan's by each other. You'll find me a right handy partner when it comes to fightin', an' I kin back ye up with a gang what will wade through gore fer me. Under them circumstances, I reckons we kin give this yere minin' trust a run fer its money."

"Your offer is very interesting, not to say fascinating," confessed Frank. "But there is something behind it. Come out with the whole matter."

"There's nothing to come out with, save that I'm to be taken in a half-partner in your mines."

"Only that?" smiled Merry scornfully.

Bill did not like the manner in which the youth spoke those two words.

"I 'lows," he said, "that you'll be gettin' off a heap cheap at that. If you fails to accept, it's almost certain your friends never hears of you no more. You'll be planted somewhere yereabouts. Arter that, the minin' trust will have easy goin'."

"Well," said Merry, "I presume you will give me time to think this matter over?"

"Certainly. I gives ye till to-morrer mornin'."

"All right."

Again Bill lighted a fresh cigarette.

"But, without 'pearin' to press ye too hard, which might cause ye onpleasant rememberances in the futer, I hints that I'll be a heap riled up if you fails to accept my offer."

Then Bill called the guard and sauntered out.

Frank had no thought of permitting the desperado to force him into such a partnership, but he believed that it would be well to appear to take time to consider it.

That afternoon, toward nightfall, he was permitted to go outside in the open air, with two armed guards watching over him.

Frank inhaled the open air with a sense of gratitude, for the hut had become stuffy and oppressive. He looked around, noting the surroundings, without betraying any great interest in the location. He saw that all about the hills rose to enclose the valley, but conjectured that the party had entered from the south or southeast.

By this time the men were interested in him, and they looked him over curiously. Four of them were playing cards, and Merry sat down on the ground where he could watch the game.

"You don't want to be makin' no remarks about what keerds ye sees in anybody's hand, young man," growled one of them, whose cards Merry could see.

Frank smiled.

"I'm not quite that fresh," he said. "I have played the game occasionally myself. If I had a chance to sit in, I might give you some points."

They laughed derisively at that, for the idea that this smooth-faced youth could give them points at poker seemed preposterous.

"Why, ef you got inter this game we'd skin the eye-teeth outer ye!" declared one.

"You'd be easy pluckin'," said another.

"It would be a shame to rob ye," sneered a third. "But seein's you ain't got no dust we won't have that pleasure."

"If it's dust that bars me," said Merry, "I might have enough to last a hand or two. I see you're playing five dollars limit, with a two bits edge."

"Why, you're plumb skinned dry!" said Big Monte. "You ain't got no stuff."

Whereupon Frank displayed a little thin wad of bank-bills, amounting to about twenty-five dollars in all.

They were astounded, for no money had been found on him when he was searched for the papers.

"How is this?" growled Monte. "Whar did ye keep it hid?"

"That's my business," said Merry. "If you're anxious to teach me this game let me in."

They made a place for him, assuring him that he would "last quick."

Now Merry was a most adept poker-player, although he let the game entirely alone, not believing in gambling. He was also a clever magician, and he could do tricks with cards to astonish far more astute men than these ruffians.

It was Pinto Pede's deal, and the Mexican handled the cards in a slick manner. Without pretending to watch him, Merry really kept a close eye on the fellow's movements.

Pede looked his cards over carelessly. Big Monte chipped a dollar, the next man raised him a dollar, and it was up to Frank, who immediately raised five.

Monte laughed hoarsely.

"Throwin' yer money away right off, eh?" he said.

The man after Frank dropped out.

Pinto Pede raised five dollars.

The fellow whose edge it was dropped his cards, but Monte came in, as did the next man and Frank.

"How men' card?" asked the Mexican.

"I'll take two," said Monte.

"Better draw to the strength o' yer hand," advised the next man. "Gimme three."

Pede looked inquiringly at Merry.

"One card," said Frank.

Pede frowned and looked annoyed. He had stacked the cards, and everything had worked perfectly up to Merriwell, who had been given three jacks on the deal, and whom the Mexican had expected would draw two.

"You take da two card!" exclaimed Pede. "Yo' no fool anybod' with da side card."

"I'll take one!" said Frank grimly. "If I choose to hold a side card to threes that is my business. Perhaps I have two pairs."

The Mexican had betrayed his trick by his anger at Merry's style of drawing. Writhing with anger, he tossed Frank one card.

"I tak' two," he said.

Merry leaned forward and watched the Mexican's fingers so closely that Pede was given no chance to perform any crooked work, if he had contemplated it.

"Now we're off," said Frank. "Go ahead and do your betting."

Then he glanced at his cards. He had held up a five spot with his three jacks. To his satisfaction, he found Pede had given him another five spot.

Merry had conceived that it was the Mexican's plan to give him threes and then to fill his hand with a small pair, but to take a pair himself, having on the deal secured threes of a higher denomination than those in Merry's hand. For that very reason, Frank had decided to draw one card, instead of two, thinking to defeat Pede's object in securing a full.

By a strange chance, Frank had held up a five spot, while all the time Pede had been intending to give him a pair of fives. This being the case, the youth secured his full hand just the same, but without the knowledge of the dealer. At the same time, he spoiled Pede's draw, for the pair the Mexican had counted on getting had been divided, he getting instead one of the fives intended for Merriwell. This left Pede with three queens, a five, and a nine.

But the Mexican believed that Merriwell had secured only threes, as he did not dream for an instant that the side card held up with the three jacks could be a five spot.

In case Frank had three jacks only, Pede's three queens were "good."

The betting began.

Monte started it with a dollar.

The next man had failed to improve his hand, and he fell out.

Frank raised five.

Pede shoved in six dollars, and added another five.

"I tak' dis pot," he said.

Monte looked his cards over. Then he looked at Pede. He knew the Mexican.

"You oughter be shot!" he said. And he threw his cards down, turning to Frank.

"You ain't got a ghost of a show agin' that greaser, youngster," he averred.

"Well, as long as my money lasts I'll stay with him," smiled Merry.

He did. Having thrust the last of his money into the pot, he finally called.

Pede spread out his three queens, smiling with crafty triumph.

"You no fool me," he said. "My t'ree bigger dan your t'ree. I tak' da mon'."

"Wait a minute," said Merry. "I happen to have more than threes here."

And he displayed his full hand, coolly raking the money over to his side of the blanket.

CHAPTER V.

PINTO PEDE RECEIVES HIS LESSON

Pinto Pede was the most disgusted Mexican in all Arizona. At the same time he was thoroughly thunderstruck. That Merriwell had secured the pair of fives with his three jacks for all of his style of drawing seemed like legerdemain.

Big Monte gave a shout of surprise, that was not entirely unmingled with delight.

"Waal, say!" he roared; "that's the furst time I ever seen Pede done up on his own deal by a tenderfoot! Haw! haw! haw!"

As the game continued Frank soon demonstrated that he was quite capable of holding his own with those men. On his deal he simply played "hob" with them. In less than thirty minutes he had won over a hundred and fifty dollars.

Cimarron Bill had sauntered up and was standing near, his arms folded, silently watching the progress of the game.

"Gentlemen," said Frank finally, "you're too easy for me. Just to show you how easy you are, I'll deal a hand around and then tell you what you have."

"Not if you lets me cut," declared Monte.

Merry had gathered the cards and was shuffling them.

"You may cut," he said.

He put the cards down on the blanket, and Monte divided them into two parts, after which he watched Frank to see that he picked them up right.

Merry picked them up with one hand, doing so swiftly. He picked them up all right, but he cleverly made the pass, which restored the cards to their original positions, as they were before Monte had cut.

Then he dealt.

When they picked up their cards, he began at the left and called off the cards each man held, going around the entire circle.

Monte threw his down, with a cry of amazement.

"An' this yere is what we takes for an easy mark!" he exclaimed.

"He cheat!" grated Pinto Pede. "Dat how he win all da mon'."

"I don't want your money," said Merry. "I find it too easy to make money off such chaps as you. You talk about tenderfeet, but the East is full of tenderfeet who could skin you fellows to death. If you ran into a New York bunco man he'd have your boots off your feet in less than thirty minutes. In fact, gentlemen, you need to get your eye-teeth filed."