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Frank Merriwell Down South, a novel by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 23. Fighting Lads |
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_ CHAPTER XXIII. FIGHTING LADS While attending school at Fardale Military Academy, Frank had met and become acquainted with a charming girl by the name of Inza Burrage. They had been very friendly--more than friendly; in a boy and girl way, they were lovers. After leaving Fardale and starting to travel, Frank had written to Inza, and she had answered. For a time the correspondence had continued, but, at last, Frank had failed to receive any answers to his letters. He wrote again and again, but never a line came from Inza, and he finally decided she had grown tired of him, and had taken this method of dropping him. Frank was proud and sensitive, and he resolved to forget Inza. This was not easy, but he thought of her as little as possible, and never spoke of her to any one. And now he had met her in this remarkable manner. Some fellow had written him from Fardale that Mr. Burrage had moved from the place, but no one seemed to know whither he had gone. Frank had not dreamed of seeing Inza in New Orleans, but she was the mysterious Queen of Flowers, and, for some reason, she was in trouble and peril. Although dazed by his astonishing discovery, the boy quickly recovered, and he felt that he could battle with a hundred ruffians in the defense of the girl beyond the broken door. Barney Mulloy seemed no less astonished than Frank. "Be me soul! it is thot lassie!" he cried. "Inza! Inza!" shouted Frank, through the broken panel. She heard him. "Frank! Frank! Save me!" "I will!" The promise was given with the utmost confidence. At that moment, however, the ruffian whose wrist Frank had broken, leaped upon the girl and grasped her with his uninjured arm. "_Carramba!_" he snarled. "You save-a her? Bah! Fool! You never git-a out with whole skin!" "Drop her, you dog!" cried Frank, pointing his revolver at the fellow--"drop her, or I'll put a bullet through your head, instead of your wrist!" "Bah! Shoot! You kill-a her!" He held the struggling girl before him as a shield. Like a raging lion, Frank tore at the panel. The man with the girl swiftly moved back to a door at the farther side of the room. This door he had already unfastened and flung open. "_Adios!_" he cried, derisively. "Some time I square wid you for my hand-a! _Adios!_" "Th' spalpanes are comin' up th' shtairs again, Frankie!" cried Barney, in the ear of the desperate boy at the door. Frank did not seem to hear; he was striving to break the stout panel so that he could force his way through the opening. "Frank! Frank! they're coming up th' shtairs!" "Let them come!" "They'll make mince mate av us!" "I must follow her!" "Well, folly, av ye want to!" shouted the Irish lad. "Oi'm goin' to shtop th' gang!" Crack! The panel gave. Crack! splinter! smash! Out came a long strip, which Frank flung upon the floor. Barney caught it up and whirled toward the stairs. The desperadoes were coming with a rush--they were well up the stairs. In another moment the leading ruffian would have reached the second floor. "Get back, ye gossoons! Down, ye haythen! Take thot, ye bloody pirates!" The strip of heavy wood in Barney's hands whirled through the air, and came down with a resounding crack on the head of the leader. The fellows had not learned caution by the fate of the first man to climb the stairs, and they were following their second leader as close as possible. Barney had a strong arm, and he struck the fellow with all his power. Well it was for the ruffian that the heavy wood was not very thick, else he would have had a broken head. Back he toppled upon the one behind, and that one made a vain attempt to support him. The dead weight was too much, and the second fell, again sweeping the whole lot to the foot of the stairs. "Hurro!" shouted the Irish boy, in wild delight. "This is th' koind av a picnic pwhat Oi admire! Come on, ye nagurs! It's Barney Mulloy ye're runnin' up against, an' begobs! he's good fer th' whole crowd av yez!" At the foot of the stairs there was a writhing, wrangling, snarling mass of human beings; at the head of the stairs was a young Irishman who laughed and crowed and flourished the cudgel of wood in his hands. Barney, feeling his blood leaping joyously in his veins, felt like singing, and so he began to warble a "fighting song," over and over inviting his enemies to come on. In the meantime Frank had made an opening large enough to force his body through. "Come on, Barney!" he cried, attracting the other boy's attention by a sharp blow. "Pwhere?" "In here--somewhere." "Frankie, ye're muddled, an' Oi nivver saw yez so before." "What do you mean?" "Nivver a bit would it do for us both to go in there, fer th' craythers moight hiv us in a thrap." "You're right, Barney. I will go. You stay here and hold the ruffians back. Here--take my revolver. You'll need it." "G'wan wid yez! Quit yer foolin', Frankie! Oi hiv an illigant shillaly here, an' thot's all Oi nade, unliss ye have two revolvers." "This is the only one I have." "Thin kape it, me b'y, fer ye'll nade it before ye save the lass, Oi think." "I think you may be right, Barney. Here goes! Hold them back. I'll not desert you." "It's nivver a bit Oi worry about thot, Frankie. G'wan!" Through the panel Frank forced his way. As soon as he was within the room he ran for the door through which the ruffian had dragged Inza. Frank knew that the fellow might be waiting just beyond the door, knife in hand, and he sprang through with his revolver held ready for instant use. There was no light in the room, but the light from the lamp in the adjoining room shone in at the doorway. Frank looked around, and, to his dismay, he could see no one. "Are they gone?" he asked himself. "If so, whither?" It was not long before he was convinced that the room was empty of any living being save himself. The Spanish ruffian and the unfortunate girl had disappeared. "Oh, confound the infernal luck!" raved the boy. "He has escaped with her! But I did my best, and I followed as soon as possible." Then he remembered that he had promised Inza he would save her, and it wrung a groan from his lips. "Which way have they gone?" he cried, beginning to look for a door that led from the room. By this time he was accustomed to the dim light, and he saw a door. In a twinkling he had tried it, but found it was locked or bolted on the farther side. "The fellow had little time and no hands to lock a door. He may not have gone this way. He must, for this is the only door to the room, save the one by which I entered. He went out this way, and I will follow!" Retreating to the farther side of the room, Frank made a run and plunged against the door. It was bolted on the farther side, and the shock snapped the iron bolt as if it had been a pipe stem. Bang! Open flew the door, and Frank went reeling through, revolver in hand, somewhat dazed, but still determined and fierce as a young tiger. At a glance he saw he was in a small room, with two doors standing open--the one he had just broken down and another. Through this other he leaped, and found himself in a long passage, at the farther end of which Barney Mulloy was still guarding the head of the stairs, once more singing the wild "fighting song." Not a trace of the ruffian or the kidnaped girl could Frank see. "Gone!" he palpitated, mystified and awe-stricken. "Gone--where?" That was a question he could not answer for a moment, and then---- "The window in that room! It is the one by which Barney entered! It must be the one by which the wretch fled with Inza!" Back into the room he had just left he leaped. Two bounds carried him to the window, against which brushed the branch of the old willow tree. He looked out. "There they are!" The exultant words came in a panting whisper from his lips as he saw some dark figures on the ground beneath the tree. He was sure he saw a female form among them, and his ears did not deceive him, for he heard at last a smothered appeal for help. Then two other forms rushed out of the shadows and fell upon the men beneath the tree, striking right and left! There was a short, fierce struggle, a woman's shriek, the death groan of a stricken man, a pistol shot, and scattering forms. Without pausing to measure the distance to the ground, Frank sprang over the window sill and dropped. _ |
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