Frank Merriwell's Champions Part 33

"Yaw," grunted Hans; "dot growkay likes me, for id don'd peen so much drouble to blay him. Der b.a.l.l.s can knock me apoud shust so easy as nefer vas."

"Frank and Jack seem to be enjoying some mild sport," said Harry, as the click of billiard b.a.l.l.s and Merriwell's infectious laugh came from the open windows of a large summerhouse in the shrubbery close at hand.

"Those fellows never seem to care about resting," grunted Browning.

"They will wear themselves out long before they are old men, unless they let up in their wild career."

All of the boys had reached Springbrook Farm, and Toots was taking care of their wheels. They had been left to themselves for a time, while Preston St. Ives and Kenneth went away to see that proper arrangements were made for the entertainment of their guests.

It had not taken Frank and Jack long to find the billiard table and get into a game, pulling off their jackets to it, as if they were in deadly earnest.

As the boys lolled there in the shade, they saw Harry Harden and Iva St.

Ives come down a walk and pa.s.s near them, chatting and laughing, seeming well satisfied with each other's society.

At a distance behind them, taking care not to be seen, Stephen Fenton stole along, keeping jealous watch of them.

"Aisy, b'ys," warned Barney, speaking softly. "Take a look at th'

spalpane through th' bresh here. It's a dirruty face he has, or me name's not Mulloy."

"That's what he has," nodded Hodge, who took an instant dislike to Fenton. "Who is he? Is that the fellow who was with Miss St. Ives?"

"Th' same, bad cess to him! She was afther callin' him 'cousin'."

"He is following them!" exclaimed Harry, softly. "You don't suppose he will try any crooked work, do you?"

"Oi have a fancy Misther Harden can look out for hisself, me lads," said Barney. "Oi'll back him against Mr. Fenton."

"Yaw," said Hans. "When Parney says dot, id peen all right. He knows my pusiness." Then the Dutch boy relapsed into a position of comfort again, while the jealous spy pa.s.sed on, watching the couple ahead of him.

Five minutes later the boys were startled by the sound of excited voices and a feminine cry of alarm.

Barney seemed to be waiting for that sound, for he sprang away like a flash, and Bart Hodge was not far behind him. Through the shrubbery crashed the two, and, in a moment, reached a spot where they were able to see what was taking place.

One young man was rising from the ground, while another stood over him, with clinched fists, evidently having knocked him down. To the arm of the latter, begging him not to strike again, clung Iva St. Ives.

"Oi knew it!" chuckled Barney in delight. "It's Fenton thot interfared, an' th' other b'y knocked him down."

In truth, Fenton it was who was getting up from the ground, while it was plain that he had been struck by Harden.

"Oh, I'll even this!" snarled the man who had received the blow.

"Come on!" cried Harden, whose blood was aroused.

"Stop, Cousin Stephen-stop, Mr. Harden!" cried the girl, in distress.

"You shall not fight!"

"He insulted me!" flamed Harden.

"I called you a sneaking cur, as you are!" hissed Fenton, getting upon his feet.

"And I knocked you down, as you deserved!" flung back the other young man.

"Hurro!" came softly from the lips of the Irish lad. "Thot's th' shtuff!

Sail in, Misther Fenton, an' do up th' spalpane!"

At this moment the other boys, with the exception of Browning, came cras.h.i.+ng through the hedge, and were by the two young men.

Fenton looked up, muttered an imprecation and then sibilated at Harden:

"We will settle this some other time!"

"At any time you like," was the prompt retort.

Then Fenton whirled and quickly vanished in the shrubbery.

"It's all over," said Hodge. "Let's get out of this instanter, for it must be a trifle embarra.s.sing to Miss St. Ives."

This little encounter had revealed to the boys that Fenton was jealous of Harden, who, plainly enough, was paying attentions to Iva.

"I believe Fenton is a bad man to have for an enemy," said Rattleton, with unusual seriousness, as the boys once more gathered about the hammock, which Browning had not left for all of anything that was taking place beyond the shrubbery.

"Well," said Hodge, slowly, "it's not likely he is in love with Frank, for Merry was not willing to be imposed upon by him. Frank may have to look out for the fellow."

"What's that you are telling about me?" called the pleasant voice of Frank himself, as he emerged from beneath the vines over the door of the summerhouse followed by Diamond. "I'm all the time looking out for somebody. Here I've been having the battle of my life with Jack, and only beat him one point. I won the game on a fluke, at that."

"But he won it, as he always wins everything he goes into," said the Virginian, with traces of mingled vexation and admiration.

Toots came panting toward the spot all out of breath.

"Lordy! Lordy!" he gasped; "I done 'clare teh goodness; I's 'feared to stay 'roun' dat stable any mo'!"

"What's the matter?" asked Frank. "You haven't cleaned up all those wheels as soon as this?"

"No, sar; but dat hostler in dar am crazy ma-ad, sar."

"What's the matter with him?"

"He done suffin' to dat hawse Fiahfoot, an' de hawse don kick him up again' de side ob de stall. Wondah it didn't kill him, sar! Po-erful wondah it didn't bre'k some ob his bones! Made him so mad he got a fork an' was gwan teh stick it right inteh dat hawse. I couldn't stan' teh see dat, an' I hollered. Den he see I was a-watchin' ob him, an' he was ma-ad enough teh kill meh, sar. I don' dar' stay an' clean dem bisuckles, Ma.r.s.er Frank."

"Those wheels must be cleaned to-night," said Merriwell, decisively.

"Come with me, Toots, and I will settle this thing so the hostler will not interfere with you."

He strode away toward the stable, and the colored boy followed at his heels. Hodge and Rattleton followed more leisurely.

As Frank entered suddenly he detected the hostler, wrench in hand, doing something to one of the bicycles. It looked as if the man was making an attempt to ruin the wheel.

And it happened that the wheel belonged to Frank!

Three bounds took Merriwell to the side of the man, whom he grasped by the collar, crying: