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Frank Merriwell's Son; or, A Chip Off the Old Block, a fiction by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 19. An Intruder |
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_ CHAPTER XIX. AN INTRUDER Turned from his socialistic theories and arguments into a different channel, Carker proved to be a most delightful conversationalist and companion. He was educated, cultured, and witty, although evidently lacking in humor. Possibly this came from the fact that he had so long and so earnestly regarded and meditated on the somber side of life. He seemed to fascinate Juanita, who listened intently whenever he spoke. "What you do, senyor, when you travel so much?" inquired Teresa. "You leave Senyora Carkaire at home?" Carker smiled sadly. "There is no Senyora Carker," he answered. "Oo!" cried Teresa. "You are not marreed?" "No," replied Greg, "I'm not married." "That ees so singulaire!" "Veree, veree," murmured Juanita. "It may seem singular," admitted Carker, "but a man like me, who has pledged his life to humanity, has little right to get married." "I do not see why you say that," said Juanita. "Perhaps I cannot make my reason plain to you, but there is an excellent reason. A man who marries should have a home. And a man who has a home should live in it. If I had such a home and was bound to it, I could not travel and carry on my life-work. I could not drag my wife around over the country, and it is not right for a married man to leave his wife alone a great deal." "Gol rap it, Greg," exclaimed Ephraim, "I don't believe that's your real reason for not gittin' married! I'll bet some gal throwed you down!" "Well, perhaps you're right," admitted the young socialist. "You can't blame her if she did." "Why not can we blame her?" questioned Juanita. "Deed she have the other lovaire? Oh, ha! ha! Senyor Carkaire! Maybe eet ees not nice to laugh, to joke, to speak of eet. I beg the pardon, senyor." She had seen a shadow flit across his face and vanish. He forced a laugh. "If there was another man," he said, "I'm conceited enough to think I might have captured the prize in spite of him had I been willing to sacrifice my principles and renounce my socialistic beliefs." "Oh, the girl she not have you because of that?" breathed Juanita. "Eet ees veree strange." "Not so very strange," he asserted. "We'll say that she was a lady. Now it is a fact that nearly all ladies are extremely conventional in everything. They have a horror for the bizarre and the unconventional. They are shocked by the man who declines to be hampered with the fashion in clothes and in similar things. I could not fall in love with a girl who was not a lady." "Begorra, you're an aristocrat at heart!" cried Mulloy. "Ye can't git away from it, me bhoy, no mather how much ye prate about socialism and th' brotherhood av mon." "Still I protest you do not understand me." "By gum!" muttered Gallup; "it don't seem to me that yeou are right 'bout the gals. Yeou kinder stick for the sort that's been born in the higher strata of life, as yeou call it. Ain't thar a hull lot of mighty smart ones that come out of the lower strata somewhere?" "Oh, I admit that most of the brainy women and most of the brainy men come from the lower strata. Nevertheless, such women are not ladies." "Begobs, ye make me tired!" cried Mulloy. "What you nade, Greg, is a dhoctor to look afther your liver." "Mebbe the best doctor," grinned Gallup, "would be a girl he'd fall in love with and who'd fall in love with him. I guess she could cure him. If he happened to run across the right one and she axed him to give up his career and stop rampin' round over the country, I'll bet a good big punkin he'd cave in right on the spot." "You're wrong," denied Carker. "No matter how much I cared for a girl, I could not give up my career. There was one once who asked me to give it up. She married another man." He smiled as he made the confession, but in his eyes there was a look which told of the great sacrifice he had made. "Mebbe you think you're doing a great work for humanity," observed Ephraim; "but, by ginger! I kinder think that Frank Merriwell is doing a greater work." "What is he doing?" "Haven't you heard 'bout it?" "No. I haven't heard from Merriwell in the last year or more. The last I knew of him he was accumulating a fortune in mining. Like other men in these degenerate times, he had turned his great abilities to the mercenary task of amassing wealth. I was sorry when I heard this, for I had expected other things of him." "Sorry, was ye?" snapped Ephraim. "Sorry and disappointed," said Greg, shaking his head. "Waal, now, you want to come right along with us to Bloomfield. We'll show you what Frank Merriwell's doing with that money he's accumulated. Ain't you ever heard 'bout his School of Athletic Development?" "No." "Waal, I guess that'll interest ye some, by jinks!" "Tell me about it." As clearly as he could, Ephraim explained the plan of Merry's new school. Carker listened with a show of interest until the Vermonter had finished. "Well, I'm glad he's doing some good," said Greg. "Still, this is of minor importance compared with the great work in which I'm engaged." "You go to grass!" almost snarled Ephraim. "Great fiddlesticks! Why, Frank is making real men of growing boys. He's making good, strong, healthy men that kin go out and successfully fight their way through life." "Life should not be a battle," asserted the socialist. "Every man's hand should be outstretched to help a needy fellow man. This old-fashioned theory that human life is bound to be a battle is all wrong. We are one great body of brothers, bound together by a universal tie." "Choke off roight where ye are," commanded Barney. "Oi'm yer fri'nd, Greg Carker, but Oi'll hit ye av ye sling any of that socialist talk at us! Ye've r'iled me now. Oi must have a shmoke to soothe me narves." "Me, too," grinned Ephraim, as they both rose. "You'll 'scuse us for a little while, won't ye, girls? We'll jest step into the smokin' compartment." "You may have the excuse if you weel leave Senyor Carkaire to entertain us," murmured Juanita. "I'll remain here," nodded Greg. "I don't smoke." "Gol ding him!" growled Ephraim, as he followed Barney into the smoking compartment. "He's a bigger crank than ever! He's gittin' wuss and wuss!" "What he nades is a girrul to marry him and straighten him out," declared the Irish youth. Five minutes after the departure of Eph and Barney a slender, black-eyed man, with a small dark mustache, came sauntering through the car. As he reached the spot where Carker was talking to Teresa and Juanita he stopped short, uttered an exclamation of satisfaction, and lifted his hat, bowing with a triumphant smile. "Ah, Senyorita Garcia," he jubilantly said, "you take the flight from me, but I have found you." "Jose Murillo!" exclaimed Juanita. And there was dismay and fear in her voice. _ |
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