“Pard,” said Brad Buckhart, edging his chair close to Dick as they sat on the veranda of the hotel, “this yere business is a whole lot like a Sunday-school picnic to me. I sure am getting some weary of it. I don’t want to kick any, but it seems to me you’re not having a hilarious old time yourself.” “Oh, I am enjoying it all right,” answered Dick.
“Still don’t you feel a heap like a misfit in this crowd? If it were our bunch it would be different. We don’t seem to pair up any. There’s Rattleton, he’s satisfied to sit and look on, and Browning is too lazy to be disturbed over anything, while the rest of the party kind of pair up and go it first-rate. I don’t want to make a holler, but I’d some prefer to be down on the Sachem about now, and I think we can add to the bliss of the others if we vamoose.”
“Well, if you’re anxious to go——” began Dick.
“Not exactly anxious, but I am tired of keeping still. We won’t break up the congregation any if we pull out by our own selves, partner.”
“All right,” said Dick, “we will do so. I fancy we’ll have no trouble in following the wagon road down the mountain.”
Young Merriwell told Rattleton of their decision, and asked him to inform Frank when Merry returned to the hotel.
A few moments later Dick and Brad set out, taking the wagon road. At intervals they passed through dark strips of timber, where the moonlight failed to penetrate. There were other spots where it shone through in patches upon the winding road.
“Don’t suppose there are any panthers or catamounts?” said the Texan.
“It’s quite improbable,” answered Dick. “There are few wild creatures in this vicinity.”
“Seems a whole lot strange to me. You know out in Texas we kind of reckon Maine as being made up of woods, and bears, and creatures of that sort. Down here I find lots of folks think Texas is all prairie, and cattle, and cowboys. I didn’t get back home this summer, but I’ve had a mighty fine vacation, Dick. I will never forget it. Pard, we certain did a big thing by landing the pennant in the Trolley League. When I think it over now, I don’t wonder any at all that the people in the league laughed at us a heap and fancied we would finish at the bottom. They didn’t know us, though. We were out for scalps, and we took ’em. Those last two games in Fairhaven were corkers. How old Hammerswell did fight to lug off one of those games! They say he went clean busted by losing them both.”
“That’s right,” said Dick. “I understand he didn’t have a dollar left in the world when the season was ended.”
“Money wouldn’t have been much good to him.”
“Possibly you’re right, Brad, for if Arlington told the truth, Hammerswell stood in the shadow of a murder charge. For he it was who hurled Sullivan into Rapid River and thus caused Sullivan’s death by drowning.”
“Don’t talk to me about Chet Arlington!” exclaimed Brad growlingly. “Don’t mention that coyote to me! The sound of his name makes my fur stand. Pard, do you reckon he’ll have the nerve to show his nose at Fardale after what he’s done this summer?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me to find him there.”
“Why, dern his pesky hide! he went plum back on us the very day we landed in Maplewood. He turned traitor. Then he had the crust to crawl around you and try to excuse himself.”
“He has plenty of crust,” agreed Dick. “It’s his cheek that keeps him up in the world.”
“When do you plan to start for Fardale?” asked the Texan.
“In a day or two. I wish to be with Frank as long as possible. I have thought he may be ready to go on to New York by the time we have to start for school.”
“Well, I don’t know, but I’ll be glad to get back to the old school,” confessed the Texan. “There will be doings this fall. I suppose you will jog out the bunch and commence football practice just as soon as we strike there?”
“I will not waste time about it. The more practice we get the better it will be.”
“We ought to have a hot old team this year, partner.”
“I think we’ll have a good one. Frank wants to come on to Fardale for a few days, but he’s afraid he can’t do it. He’s going to have his hands full directly with that railroad business.”
“How would you like to go down there into Mexico with him and see the railroad pushed through?”
“I should like it,” confessed Dick; “but there’s nothing of the sort for me. It’s school for me now.”
“I don’t take much to greasers. They are a-plenty treacherous. Now there’s that smooth, smiling chap, Del Norte—he don’t hit me at all fine. He’s too slick and oily for my fancy. Oh, we see lots of them down on the Rio Pecos. You know we’re some near the Mexican border. I have had dealings with the varmints, and you can never depend on them to any great extent. They are not all bad, but a Texan never takes stock in any of them. He can’t afford to. Where you find one that’s white all the way through, you find a hundred who will eat your bread and stick you between the shoulder blades. I reckon old Del Norte is one of those.”
“I myself don’t like Del Norte,” confessed Dick. “I have seen him watching Inza in a way I didn’t fancy. He had better be careful or Frank will teach him a lesson if he gets too forward in that direction.”
“What is he doing on the Sachem, anyhow? I heard him talking yesterday with Mr. Crossgrove about mines and a railroad and one thing and another. I believe he’s a promoter.”
“I think he’s a schemer of some sort. There’s not much doubt about that.”
Having reached the foot of the mountain and the main road, the boys turned toward town and Dick began singing “Fair Fardale.” Brad joined in, and the rocks and cliffs of the mountainside reverberated with the melody of the beautiful song.
At length they passed the cemetery at the foot of the mountain and came into the village.
“How will we get off to the yacht, partner?” asked the Texan.
“Oh, we can find some one to set us off, I think,” said Dick. “If not we will signal, and one of the sailors will row ashore for us.”
Arriving at Fishmarket Wharf, they were just in time to see a boy row in with a small boat.
“Hello!” said Dick. “Do you want to make fifty cents?”
“Sure thing,” was the reply. “Just made a dollar, and fifty more will keep it from being lonesome. What can I do?”
“Set us off to the yacht Sachem.”
“Hey?” exclaimed the boy, with a slight show of surprise. “Are you in a great hurry?”
“No.”
“Don’t want me to rip things in getting you on board, I suppose?”
“No; you may take your time. We have the whole night before us.”
“Well, I didn’t know,” muttered the boy, a touch of disappointment in his voice. “I thought mebbe you was in the same hurry t’other chap was. He gave me a dollar to hump myself and put him off to the Sachem.”
“To t............