Frank Merriwell's Champions Part 15

Two other lads, in bicycle suits, unseen by the treacherous coach and the spy in the bushes, having left their wheels near the highway that ran some distance from the river, had come down and stopped near enough to hear all this conversation.

They were Diamond and Frank.

Diamond had brought Merriwell to that point in order to show him the pretty view of the Potomac River, and not till they had advanced more than two-thirds the distance from the road did they hear the shouted cries of the coach, and see him standing on the bluff.

The curiosity of the boys was aroused, and they came forward quietly to see what was taking place.

The coach, and the spy in the bushes, were so absorbed in the movements of the crew that neither saw Merriwell and Diamond, and so, without thinking of playing eavesdroppers, the Yale lads heard something that was not intended for their ears.

Jack clutched Frank's arm.

"What do you think of that?" he hissed, his dark face growing still darker.

"Think," said Frank, scornfully. "I think that coach should be ducked in the river!"

"And I think the spy should be ducked with him!" came fiercely from the lips of the young Virginian.

"Look here, Jack!" said Frank, "there is something familiar about that fellow in flannels. I've seen him before."

"His voice sounded familiar to me," nodded Diamond.

At this moment, as if he had heard their voices, the coach looked in their direction, and saw them. He gave a violent start, seemed a bit confused, and then cried:

"What are you doing there-playing the spy? Don't you know you have no right there?"

In another instant Frank was bounding toward the spot, followed by Jack.

"No, we are not spying," said Merriwell, "but we know a chap that is!

Here he is!"

Then he pounced on the startled youth in the bushes and dragged him forth, for all of his resistance.

"Let me go, hang you!" came from the fellow Frank had exposed. "If you don't let me go, you will be sorry!"

"I'll let you go when I have shown you to the gentlemen in that boat down there," declared Frank. "I have dealt with sneaks like you before."

The spy struggled desperately, furious at the thought of exposure and disgrace.

"You shall suffer for this!" he grated.

Then the coach advanced quickly on Merriwell, speaking in a low tone, although his voice quivered with pa.s.sion:

"Let him go-let him go! If you don't--"

"What then?" said Jack Diamond, placing himself in the path of the treacherous coach. "What do you think you will do about it, my fine fellow?"

"I will-- Great Scott! It is Jack Diamond!"

The coach staggered from the shock of the discovery, for up to that moment he had been too excited to recognize either of the boys. Now he looked at the other, adding, hoa.r.s.ely:

"And that's Frank Merriwell! Satan take the luck!"

This attracted Frank's attention, so he turned and took a square look at the coach, in whose appearance he had fancied there was something familiar from the very first.

"Great Jove!" he cried. "Rolf Harlow!"

The name and the sight of its owner awakened a host of unpleasant memories in Frank's heart.

Harlow, expelled from Harvard for gambling and cheating at cards, had come to New Haven in search of "suckers" among the Yale students. He had been introduced by a student by the name of Harris, and Frank, whose one great failing was his strong inclination to play cards for a stake, had been drawn into the game in his endeavor to pull Rattleton out of it.

In the end it had proved fortunate that Frank was led into the game, for he had detected Harlow in his crooked dealing and exposed him, compelling him to give up certain of Diamond's promises to pay, and thus saving Jack from disgrace.

Harlow was revengeful, and he had tried to "get square" with Frank, but each attempt had rebounded disastrously upon him. When last seen, Rolf was following a circus through the State of Missouri, and working a sh.e.l.l game on the country people.

Now he was in Virginia, coaching a crew of oarsmen who were practicing for a race!

And, as usual, he was playing a crooked game.

The crew in the boat saw the struggle on the sh.o.r.e, and wondered what it meant. There was a landing near, and toward it the c.o.xswain directed the boat, saying:

"Pull, fellows! We must go up there and investigate this affair. We have been watched."

Harlow turned very pale when he recognized Frank, for he had learned to fear our hero. He had not dreamed they would meet in Virginia.

As soon as Diamond could recover from the astonishment of the discovery, he scornfully cried:

"Harlow it is, and he is up to his old tricks!"

The spy, whom Frank had captured, made a savage attempt to thrust Merriwell from the edge of the bluff into the river, seeing the crew was coming, and he soon would be face to face with a lot of angry lads who might not have any mercy on him.

"Easy, my fine chap!" laughed the Yale athlete. "What's the use! You can't do it, you know!"

"Help, Harlow!" appealed the spy. "The Blue Cove fellows are coming, and they'll be awfully mad!"

Harlow hesitated, and then a desperate light came into his eyes. Young ruffian that he was, he always went armed, and now he decided to make an attempt to bluff Frank.

With a quick movement, Rolf produced a revolver, which he pointed straight at Merriwell, crying:

"Let him go-let him go, or I'll shoot!"

The expression on his face seemed to indicate that he really meant it, and Diamond s.h.i.+vered a bit, knowing Harlow as he did, and thinking him desperate and reckless enough to do almost anything in a burst of pa.s.sion.

Jack crouched to move aside, so he could spring at Rolf, but Harlow saw the movement, and hissed:

"Stand still there, or I'll shoot you first!"

"You don't dare--" began Jack.