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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 31. A Challenge |
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_ CHAPTER XXXI. A CHALLENGE Basil Bearover's usually florid face turned pale, and the man actually staggered. The horse tossed its head, wrinkled its upper lip, and seemed to grin. "That gave the big bear a jolt," he apparently observed. Bearover's companion was a husky-looking young Irishman, and he now seemed on the point of taking flight. He was even paler than Bearover, and his teeth actually chattered together. "Holy saints!" he gasped. "The divvil is in the beast! It spakes." "Don't get excited," smiled Merry. "I told you Dick was an educated horse. I think I've proved my statement. Now, Dick, my boy, you'll follow Bart and Pansy round to the stable and permit Toots to look after you. I'll see you at the usual hour this afternoon and give you your lessons in algebra and Latin. Be a good boy, Dick. Trot along. Ta! ta!" "Ta! ta!" answered the horse, as it turned away. "Look out for the big bear. He thinks he's a sharper, but he's only a common lobster." With a whisk of his tail and a flirt of his heels, Dick followed Pansy and disappeared round the corner toward the stable. Basil Bearover pulled himself together and took a deep breath. "Say," he huskily remarked, "have you a little something bracing round this place? I'd like a small nip of whisky after that." "I'm sorry," answered Frank, "but I don't keep it in the house. I haven't a drop of liquor of any kind round the place." "Be Heaven!" exclaimed the Irishman. "I nade a drink meself." Bearover placed a hand on his companion's shoulder. "Tell me, McCann," he said, "did you hear that horse speak? I must have dreamed it. I must be getting in a bad way." "It was no dream, Mr. Bearover," was the answer. "I heard it meself. The baste talked as plain as any man could spake." "Jerusalem!" exploded the stout stranger, as if struck by an idea. "That animal ought to make a fortune for its owner. What'll you take for that horse, Mr. Merriwell?" "You can't buy him, sir," was the quiet answer. "Do you think I'd be heartless enough to sell Dick after spending all this time in educating him and getting him trained to such a high point of perfection? Why, it would break the poor creature's heart." "I'll give you a thousand dollars for him," offered the man, thrusting a hand into his breast pocket and producing a pocketbook. "Put up your money," said Frank. "I tell you that you can't buy him. Why, if I should sell that horse to you, just as likely as not he'd be so disgusted and angry that he'd never speak again. You know it's no small matter for a horse to talk. It isn't natural for them. It could only be produced by a mighty effort, and the most natural thing in the world would be for the creature to relapse into dumbness if transferred to another owner." Bearover looked disappointed as he slipped the pocketbook back into its resting place. Glancing around, he observed that the young man near at hand and the young ladies on the veranda were all smiling and laughing as if highly amused. Their suppressed merriment gave him a resentful feeling, and suddenly his face flushed, while an expression of anger came into his small eyes. "You're purty smart, young man--purty smart," he said. "You think you fooled me, don't ye? Well, you didn't. I happen to know how you done the trick. You're a ventriloquist. The horse didn't talk. I was jest testing you to see if you would try to soak me by selling the critter to me." Bearover fibbed, for, although he had finally hit upon the truth, it was an afterthought conjured up by the laughter of the spectators. "Do yer mean to say the horse didn't spake?" demanded the Irishman. "I heard it meself--I tell ye I heard it meself!" "That's all right, McCann!" rasped the big man. "Perhaps you've never seen a good ventriloquist do a turn, but I have. That horse can't talk any more than a cow or a dog or any other dumb creature can." "Vale," observed Hans Dunnerwurst, who stood Bear, with his hands thrust deep into his trousers pocket, "it took it a long time to found you oudt. Dot hoss peen a good 'rithmeticker uf he coot talk or not. Yah!" "You've had your fun with me, Mr. Merriwell," said Bearover, ignoring the Dutchman; "but I hope to have a little sport with you later. I've driven over from Wellsburg this morning for the express purpose of seeing you." "What can I do for you, sir?" asked Merry. "I understand you have a baseball team here." "Do you mean my Farnham Hall team?" "I don't know what you call it." "Well, I have a ball team made up of youngsters. They are able to put up quite a game." "What sort of youngsters?" "Boys--my pupils at the Hall." "But I ain't referring to that kind of a team. I mean your regular team--I mean the one you play on." "Oh, that's different." "You've got such a team here, ain't ye?" "As you see, a lot of my friends are visiting here just now. I can't say that we have a regular organized team." "They told us in Wellsburg you had, and that's why I took the trouble to come here. I'm manager of the Rovers, the strongest independent team of this country. We're making a tour by automobile and playing the best teams we can get up against. I have a big seven-seated car at Wellsburg, and that machine, together with this one, carries my men from place to place. We made arrangements to play Wellsburg to-day and to-morrow. We were to have a guarantee of three hundred dollars and sixty per cent. of the gate receipts. When we gut into Wellsburg last night we found that the team had disbanded and the manager skipped out. That leaves us without a game to-day and to-morrow. We're looking for a game. This is Mike McCann, captain of my team." The young Irishman nodded and touched his cap brim. "Go on," invited Merriwell. "I've always had a desire to meet you," continued Bearover. "You have a big reputation as a baseball man. I'd like to play you in Wellsburg for a purse." "Evidently you're out for the dust," said Frank. "It takes money to run a team." "Your team is composed of professionals, isn't it?" "They're all salaried players." "Just a bit out of our class. We're straight amateurs." Besides the chauffeur, a rather sad-faced, somber-looking man was sitting in the car. This man now arose with a languid air and stepped out. "I told you how it would be, Bearover," he said, with a slight drawl. "Merriwell has made his reputation by defeating second-class amateur teams. I didn't think he'd have the sand to play a nine like the Rovers." "Who is this gentleman?" asked Frank. "This is Casper Silence, the backer of the Rovers," explained Bearover. "Mr. Silence, Mr. Merriwell." "How do," nodded Silence, as he adjusted his nose glasses and surveyed Frank from head to foot. "I presume the report that you're a back number may have some truth in it. A great many pitchers use themselves up in their prime. You look all right, but I take it your arm is gone." "Well, now," retorted Frank, "you place me in a rather embarrassing position, Mr. Silence. I don't feel like cracking up myself, you know." "Waugh!" snorted Buck Badger, unable to keep still longer. "I certain opine you're still in the ring, Merry. I judge it wouldn't take you long to show this gent that you're no back number." "You're a prosperous young man," said Silence, still addressing Frank. "Such being the case, if you have a team here, why not play us in Wellsburg for a small purse? If you're the wizard we've heard you are, you can make a little money while you're having the enjoyment of a game. A purse of five hundred dollars would be all right. It would suit us. We'll play you to-morrow. What do you say?" "I say no, sir," answered Frank. "If we were to play you for such a purse, we would immediately become professionals, like yourselves. We have no desire to be classed as professionals, and therefore I decline your proposition." "Just as I thought," nodded Silence. "I've seen amateurs before who took refuge behind such an excuse. Well, if you'll not play us for a purse, will you play us with the agreement that the winning team takes the entire gate proceeds?" "Not in Wellsburg." "Eh? Why not in Wellsburg?" "Because I have a better baseball ground yonder within sight of this house. Because at the present time I have a house party here, and we're not looking for baseball games. If your team of Rovers will come here and meet us on my field, we'll give you a game to-morrow, I think. What do you say, boys?" "You pet my life ve vill!" shouted Dunnerwurst. "By gum, that'll suit me!" came from Gallup. "I'm with you, Merry!" said Carson. "You know you can depend on me!" rumbled Browning. "Begorra, it will suit me clane down to the ground!" came from Mulloy. "Waugh!" exploded Badger. "You can bank on the whole bunch of us, Frank. That's whatever!" "But what inducement have we to come here?" demanded Bearover. "This is a little dried-up country town, and we couldn't turn out a hundred and fifty people to see that game. We've gut to make expenses somehow." "If you decide to play us here, and the weather's favorable, I'll guarantee a thousand paid spectators. It's a safe guarantee, and in all probability there'll be two or three thousand persons here. I'll have the game announced by the Wellsburg Herald. I'll see that it is advertised in the neighboring towns. We do not depend on Bloomfield alone for our spectators. They come in from all the surrounding towns. We'll play with the understanding that the winning team takes the entire gate receipts. If we win, we'll donate the money to some charitable purpose. If you win, you may do whatever you please with it." "Will you make a written guarantee that there'll be at least a thousand paid admissions?" asked Bearover. "With the weather favorable," assented Frank. The manager of the Rovers turned to Silence. "What do you say, Casper?" he asked. "We haven't any game for to-morrow, and we can't arrange one unless we accept this man's terms." Silence shrugged his shoulders, lighted a cigarette, and stepped back into the car. "Go ahead, Bearover," he drawled. "Make any arrangements you please." "All right, Merriwell," said the manager, "we'll play you. Draw up that agreement in regard to the gate receipts, and we'll sign it." _ |
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