Frank Merriwell's Athletes: or, The Boys Who Won

“It’s Inza’s father thot’s in th’ cab.”

“It was not her father that pulled her back from view.”

“Whoy?”

“Because he has not the strength to handle her with such ease. The last time I saw him he was a weak and broken old man.”

“It’s betther he is now, Frankie. Thravel sames to hiv’ done th’ ould duck good, so it does.”

“It is probable that both her father and Lord Stanford are in that cab.”

“An’ it’s not yesilf thot will think av throying to take th’ girrul away from her fayther, is it?”

“I don’t know,” said Frank, his face hard and stern. “In this free country fathers who try to force their daughters into odious marriages are not popular, and, should I be arrested for interfering, it is almost certain I would have the sympathy of the public.”

He looked out of the window and urged the driver not to lose sight of the other cab if he had to kill his horses in pursuing.

“Kill both your horses if necessary!” he cried. “I can pay for them! Remember it is ten dollars anyway if you keep them in sight.”

“They’ll not lose me,” declared the driver, shouting to make his voice heard above the rattling rumble of wheels.

At the very next corner the cab in advance swung sharply around into Beach Street, and now they were in sight of the bay that was but a few blocks away.

The driver of the pursuing cab attempted to make a sharp turn at the corner, but he did not do it skillfully, and a catastrophe occurred.

Over went the cab!

Crash – smash!

The driver was flung to the ground, and Frank was shot out through a window.

By the rarest kind of luck Frank was not injured severely, and he quickly leaped to his feet.

The frightened horses were plunging and rearing, but the driver had clung to the reins, and was holding them from running away.

Frank wondered if Barney had been hurt, but there was no time for him to stop there, if he meant to keep the other cab in sight.

Frank was a sprinter, and he started after the cab at a run.

Two men tried to stop him, thinking he must have caused the smash and was running away to escape arrest.

“Hold on!” they shouted, grabbing at him.

“Hands off!” he flung back, dodging them.

A policeman appeared at the opposite corner and yelled across the street for the running lad to stop.

Frank did not heed the command.

Seeing the driver struggling with his frantic horses the officer hastened to his aid, letting Frank go.

Round to the left the cab turned at the next corner.

Frank saw a head thrust out of a window, and he knew one of the occupants was looking back.

Round the corner darted Frank.

Out upon a long pier the cab was being driven.

Setting his teeth the pursuer made a last great burst of speed, and went racing out upon the pier.

The cab stopped, and a young, red-faced man flung open the door and sprang out. Then he reached back and pulled the girl out after him.

A short distance from the pier a handsome white yacht lay at anchor. At the foot of the stone steps that ran down to a small floating landing lay a rowboat. In the boat was a sailor in yachting costume, while another sailor stood on the pier, as if he had been waiting for the appearance of some one.

“Here, Bush!” cried the man who had pulled the girl from the cab; “take her – hold her! I must have it out with this blooming young idiot who is coming.”

“Drop that girl!” cried Merriwell, with one hand outflung, as he came straight on.

Inza’s father was slowly getting from the cab, shaking with excitement, his face being very pale.

Lord Stanford tried to hand the girl over to the sailor, but at this juncture Inza showed her spirit:

“Don’t touch me – don’t you dare!” she cried to the sailor, her eyes flashing at him in a manner that made him hesitate.

Then she broke from all detaining hands and ran toward Frank, who met her and placed an arm about her shoulders.

“Oh, Frank!” she panted; “is it you – can it be?”

“Yes, Inza,” he answered, as he held her close and kept his eyes on the Englishman, whose flushed face had grown white with rage. “It is I.”

“And you have come to – to save me from that horrid wretch?”

“Well, you should know I am ready to do anything in my power for you, Inza. Have I ever failed to respond when you have appealed to me for aid?”

“Never – never, Frank! Don’t let him come near me again! I am afraid of him!”

“Release that young lady!” cried Lord Stanford, his voice hoarse and husky. “Who are you that you dare interfere here?”

He took a step toward Merriwell, but was halted by a look from the Yale lad’s flashing eyes.

“I am the friend of Miss Burrage,” answered Frank; “and I shall protect her from you, sir.”

The Englishman forced a husky laugh.

“That’s a blooming good joke!” he sneered. “Miss Burrage is in her father’s charge, and I scarcely think you will have the impudence to interfere.”

Bernard Burrage looked on in a helpless manner, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Her father has no right to force her into an odious marriage against her will,” declared Frank. “It is possible that she needs protection from him.”

“What insolence!” fumed Lord Stanford. “I never heard anything like it! There’s not an English boy living who would dare think of attempting such a thing.”

“Possibly not; but you are not dealing with an English boy, sir. I am American to the bone.”

“And what you need is a good sound drubbing.”

“Possibly you think of giving it to me? If so, I advise you to take off your coat, as you will find it warm work, I assure you.”

Inza clung to Frank, looking up at his handsome face with an expression of admiration in her dark eyes.

“You young scoundrel! Perhaps you do not know whom you are addressing?”

“It makes no difference to me, sir.”

“I am Lord Stanford, of – ”

“I don’t care if you are the lord of all Europe! You are on American soil now, and dealing with a full-blooded American.”

“Bah!” cried the Englishman. “You are nothing but a young braggart! You are trying to pose as a hero before the young lady, but it will do you no good.”

“Do you think so? That makes not a bit of difference to me.”

Frank regretted very much that he had not been able to follow them to the pier with a cab, for then he would have made an attempt to hurry Inza into it and carry her away.

Now he fully realized that, should he attempt to walk away with her, if Lord Stanford found no other manner of stopping him, he could follow and order the first policeman he met to arrest Frank.

Merriwell saw that Bernard Burrage was shaking with excitement, showing the old man’s nerves were quite unstrung.

Stanford appealed to Inza’s father.

“Mr. Burrage,” he said, “why don’t you order that young man to unhand your daughter? Is it possible you mean to let him carry on this outrage in such a high-handed manner?”

“Let her go! Let her go!” cried the invalid, weakly, lifting his heavy cane and shaking it in a feeble manner at the youth.

“I will do so when she commands me, not before,” declared Frank, calmly. “I am astonished at you, Mr. Burrage! I never dreamed you would attempt to force your daughter into a marriage against her will.”

“Have you forgotten?” whispered Inza. “This is not the first time. He tried to make me marry my cousin in New Orleans.”

“It’s nothing to you – nothing, sir, nothing!” excitedly shouted Bernard Burrage.

“Take her away from him, why don’t you?” fretted Lord Stanford.

Frank laughed with a cutting sound.

“That is very fine, noble sir!” he sneered. “It seems quite appropriate that you should stand still and order this feeble old man to take her from me.”

“He has the right to do it, don’t you know.”

“You do it, Lord Stanford – I give you the right to do it,” said the old man.

“Yes, come and do it!” urged Frank.

“Oh, can’t we get away!” whispered Inza. “We must!”

“If Barney would appear with the cab!” thought Frank. “I am afraid he was badly injured.”

Once more he looked around, but the one he wished to see was not in view.

Frank longed to have several of the boys on hand, for then he could have looked after the Englishman and the girl’s father while they carried Inza away.

As Frank turned his head, Lord Stanford stepped swiftly forward and grasped Inza’s wrist, attempting to draw her away.

She gave a scream.

Merriwell turned like a flash, saw what was occurring, and swung his fist at the Englishman.

Crack! – the blow caught Lord Stanford fairly on the left ear.

Down he went, measuring his length on the planking in a moment.

The sailor who had been standing on the pier was near at hand, and he hurried to assist the fallen nobleman.

But Stanford was not hurt, and he got up quickly.

The blow was sufficient to arouse his anger fully, and he made a blind rush for Frank.

Merriwell saw he was in for a struggle with the enraged nobleman, and he quickly placed Inza behind him, keeping his eyes on Stanford all the while.

The furious fellow struck at Frank, huskily crying:

“Take that, you young ruffian! It’s a bobby I’ll call and have you arrested for what you have done!”

But Frank avoided the blow with ease.

He did not strike Stanford again.

“You are a mark,” he laughed. “I’m ashamed to give you what you deserve. Why, I could break your nose in a moment if I wished.”

“Bragging again! You Americans are always bragging! That is all you know how to do!”

“Really! History shows we have done up Johnny Bull twice, and done him good. If necessary, we can do him up again.”

Again Stanford rushed, and again Frank ducked and dodged aside, thrusting out his foot and tripping the Englishman.

Down upon the planking plunged the angry nobleman, striking his nose hard enough to scrape it quite severely.

When he got up he was blind with rage – almost frothing.

He made such a swift rush at Frank that Merry was not able to dodge again, and he received a slight blow on the cheek.

Frank’s eyes flashed, and he grappled with Stanford.

Whirling the fellow about, he grasped him by the collar and a convenient portion of the trousers he wore.

“You are excited, my dear sir,” said Merriwell, gently. “What you need is a nice chance to cool off. I think I will give you an opportunity to do so.”

Then he ran the frightened and frantic nobleman to the edge of the pier and kicked him off into the water.

“There,” said Frank, as he stood looking down, having thrust his hands into his pockets, “that will be a fine thing for you.”

Lord Stanford came up, spouting like a whale.

“Murder!” he cried. “He means to drown me!”

“Oh, no; only give you a bath,” said Frank, soberly.

Then he heard a shrill cry of fear behind him, and whirled to see that the sailor had seized Inza.

Like a leaping panther the young athlete went for the man.

“Help!” appealed Inza.

The sailor saw Frank coming, and prepared to meet the attack. He was a thick, muscular-appearing fellow, and he did not seem in the least afraid of Merriwell, for all that the latter had handled Lord Stanford with such ease.

“You won’t find a snap with me,” said the man, showing eagerness for the struggle. “I can handle two or three of you.”

He looked as if he fully believed it. Indeed, he had the appearance of a prize fighter, and ninety-nine boys out of a hundred would have hesitated about tackling him.

Not so with Frank. He was ready to tackle an army of giants in defense of Inza, and he grappled with the sailor.

But he was given no time to see what he could do.

It seemed that a thunderbolt from the clear sky descended and smote him on the head. There was a flash of light as if something had exploded in his head.

Darkness followed.

CHAPTER VI – FRANK BUYS A YACHT

Frank sat up and looked around. Deep-toned bells seemed to be ringing in his head, which throbbed with a pain that made him weak and faint.

He was on the pier, and a man in yachting dress was approaching him. There seemed to be something familiar in the appearance of the man.

Frank wondered what had happened, for his wits were so scattered that he could not pull them together readily.

“That was a decidedly rough deal you received, Mr. Merriwell,” said the man in the yachting suit. “I saw it all, and you did not have a fair show.”

Frank looked at him stupidly.

“You know me,” he said, speaking with an effort; “but you have the advantage of me. Somehow, though, your face does seem familiar. I believe I have seen you before.”

“Sure you have! Why, have you forgotten last night in Chinatown?”

“No. I have not forgotten. You are Mr. Chandler.”

“Yes. Permit me to assist you to rise. I hope you are not badly hurt. It was a wicked blow, delivered with all the strength the old man could muster.”

“Blow?” muttered Frank, as he was aided to his feet, but found that at first he was unable to stand without aid. “Was I struck? It seems that somebody hit me on the head.”

“You’re dazed. Somebody did hit you. I saw you toss one chap into the water and grapple with the other. Then the old man knocked you down with his cane.”

Frank grew excited.

“I was fighting for Inza!” he exclaimed. “I remember it now! So her father knocked me out? Where have they taken her?”

“They took her away in a boat, although she struggled to break away and reach you,” answered Chandler. “They are on board that yacht out there now.”

He pointed toward Lord Stanford’s yacht, where it was seen that sailors were making hasty preparations to get under weigh, but no sign of the Englishman, Inza, or Mr. Burrage could be seen.

Frank Merriwell straightened up with a sudden return of strength that was, to say the least, astonishing.

“So they have carried her on board?” he said, quickly. “And it is plain they will be away directly. Mr. Chandler, I believe you have a boat?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where is it?”

“There it lays.”

The man pointed to a small but handsome single-sticker that lay within a short distance of Lord Stanford’s boat.

“It seems to me that you said last night that you wished to sell her.”

“I do.”

“How much will you take for her as she lays?”

“She cost me fifteen hundred dollars, but I am anxious to sell, and I will take a thousand.”

“I’ll take her.”

John Chandler gasped for breath, and then smiled doubtingly.

“That is easily said, but I must have ready cash for her, and – ”

“You shall have ready cash. I will give you a check on the Nevada Bank, where I have an account. My guardian fully expected I would need plenty of money by the time I reached San Francisco, and he arranged it for me, so I am able to secure almost any reasonable sum. There will be no trouble or delay in getting your money.”

Chandler still looked doubtful, as it seemed rather improbable that this lad could draw so much money on short notice.

“How many men have you on your yacht?” asked Frank, as if the matter were settled.

“None now. The two friends who were with me last night were the last of my party, save the cook, and even the cook left this morning.”

“Is she fitted up for a cruise?”

“I should say so! I expected to spend four more weeks on board, but business changes have knocked me out on that.”

“Remember, I have bought her just as she lays.”

“Certainly.”

“That includes everything on board, save your personal property, Mr. Chandler.”

“Exactly.”

“I shall take possession, with a full crew, before noon.”

“Great Scott! You do things in a hurry, young man.”

“This occasion makes it necessary. I am going to follow that other yacht.”

“I am afraid she will get off ahead of you, and you may have some trouble in following her.”

“Well, I shall attempt it. Come; we’ll get a cab, and go to the bank at once. The transfer must be made in a hurry, and I must get my party together without the loss of a moment.”

They hastened off the pier.

Coming toward them they saw a cab that looked somewhat bruised and battered, one of its lamps having been smashed and one side damaged.

“I believe it is the very cab in which I pursued Lord Stanford!” cried Frank. “Yes, I know it is! And there is Barney coming, too!”

The Irish boy was on foot, limping along painfully, but he waved his hand in a cheerful manner when he saw Frank, shouting:

“Hurro, me b’y! It’s nivver a bit can yez kill Barney Mulloy at all, at all!”

Then the Irish boy hurried forward, still limping, and excitedly asked:

“Pwhere be they, Frankie? Is it th’ shlip they gave yez, me lad? Musha! musha! it’s bad luck we had!”

“They got away for the time,” said Frank, swiftly; “but I am going to follow them in a yacht I have just bought.”

“A yacht? Ye’ve bought a yacht? It’s jist loike yez! Ye’d be afther buying a stameboat av it wur necessary!”

Then Barney recognized Chandler as one of the men who had hastened to their aid in the Chinese theatre.

“An’ is it your yacht he’s bought?” asked the Irish lad. “It’s nivver Oi saw th’ bate av this! An’ th’ droiver says ye’ll have ter pay fer his smash, though it’s litthle his cab wur damaged.”

The driver stopped at the curb and began to bemoan the fate that had befallen him.

Frank cut him short.

“Give us a rest!” he exclaimed. “You were paid to take chances, and it is not my fault if you upset by turning a corner too sharply. It’s a wonder you escaped arrest for reckless driving.”

“I should have been pulled, sir,” said the driver, “but it happened I knew the officer who saw the affair. But I’ll have to pay for the damage done to the hack, sir, and I’m a poor man with a wife and five children to support.”

“Here is the ten dollars I promised you if you would get me to the water front inside of twenty minutes,” said Frank, as he handed over a bill, which the driver eagerly grasped. “Do you want to earn ten more? That will make twenty-five, and will pay you well for everything, damage and all.”

“Tell me how I can make ten more.”

“By taking us to the Nevada Bank in a hurry.”

“Get in.”

The door of the cab was jerked open, and Frank urged Chandler and Barney in. He paused to say to the driver:

“Every minute is precious. You know I pay right off the reel if you give satisfaction. Do your best.”

The door slammed, and away went the cab.

“Barney,” said Frank, when they were started, “this cab will land us at the corner of Montgomery and Pine streets, where I shall leave it to complete my business with Mr. Chandler. I want you to stay in the cab, which will take you to my hotel. You are to tell the boys I have bought a yacht, and every man must be on board ready to sail before noon. Get them together, have Rattleton settle the hotel bill, and see that they are all ready to get out of the place, for I shall want them to start the instant I appear.”

“Did yez ivver hear th’ loikes av it?” gurgled the Irish lad. “Oi nivver knew anybody to do anything in such a rush in all my loife.”

“A rush is required in this case, or Lord Stanford will get too much the start of me.”

Frank finished giving Barney instructions during the ride, and before the bank was reached, the Irish lad knew exactly what was expected of him.

When the bank was reached, Frank and Chandler got out. Frank gave the driver the promised money, and added something to pay him for taking Barney to the hotel.

This was done without waste of time, and then Merriwell led the way into the bank.

Business in the bank was soon concluded, and when Frank again reached the pier at the foot of Taylor Street, having in his pocket a paper that showed he had paid one thousand dollars for the yacht Greyhound, seven boys were there to greet him.

Jack Diamond started in to grumble, but Frank cut him short.

“Not a word!” he said, sharply. “All who wish to go with me without question are welcome; any who do not wish to do so are at liberty to remain behind.”

As he spoke he was eagerly looking for Lord Stanford’s yacht, which was gone from its place of anchorage. An expression of great satisfaction, of positive joy, escaped his lips when he saw far out toward the Golden Gate a sloop-rigged craft that he believed was the Englishman’s boat.

“Thank goodness the breeze has fallen!” he muttered. “She has not been able to get out of the harbor.”

Three minutes later Frank had bargained with a boatman to set the whole party on board the Greyhound.

This was not necessary, however, for he discovered the small boat beside the pier, Chandler having come off in it.

However, as the bargain was made, the man took off all but three of the boys. Frank, Bart and Barney used the small boat.

Frank was wondering at the non-appearance of the former owner of the yacht, as Chandler had stated he would be on hand to see if there was any of his personal property on the Greyhound that he wished to take away.

“I can’t wait for him,” Merry decided. “It was odd he did not keep with me. As I had a little business to look after, and was in a rush, I presume he did not care to chase me around, and he thought I would not be able to get here as soon as this.”

Immediately they were on board, Frank set each one at some task, and put them on the jump.

“Do you see that small white yacht that is trying to beat out past the point?” he asked.

“Yah,” nodded Hans, “we seen dot.”

“Yah!” exclaimed Frank, whose spirits were rising now they were on board the Greyhound and Lord Stanford had not been able to get out of sight and give them the slip. “What do you mean by addressing the captain in that manner, sir? Yah! Who ever heard of a sailor saying ‘yah’ to his superior officer! You should say, ‘Ay, ay, sir.’”

“Vale, I dinks me I said dot der next times, Vrankie.”

“‘Vrankie,’” shouted Merriwell. “Who ever heard anything like that? Think of a common sailor addressing the captain of a vessel by his front name! Have a little more respect, young man!” he suddenly thundered, as if greatly enraged. “If you are not careful, you shall be placed in irons and thrown into the hold!”

Hans gasped for breath and began to tremble.

“Dunder und blitzens!” he murmured. “Vat vos der madder mit dot poy! Uf dis been der vay he done as soon as we get der vater on, der next time I took a sail mit him I vas goin’ to sday ad home. Yah!”

Frank pointed out Lord Stanford’s yacht to the boys, and told them that he did not wish to lose sight of it.

He set Toots and Hans to hoisting the anchor, while Harry, Bart and Jack shook out the sails.

The jib was run up first, and then the mainsail was hoisted, Barney, who was a skillful sailor, having taken the helm.

Strange to say, it seemed as if the wind had been waiting for them to make sail, for it arose promptly and filled the sails so that the Greyhound soon bore away on the starboard tack.

Out beyond the point the Fox, Lord Stanford’s yacht, had felt the wind first, and was already tacking close under the northern shore.

Frank went aft and stood near Barney, while he watched the actions of the Greyhound with no little anxiety.

He had no idea what sort of a boat he had purchased, and he could see that the Englishman’s yacht had a rakish, saucy look, as if it might be able to show him a clean pair of heels in a fair breeze.

Under Frank’s directions, the sails were trimmed and the Greyhound close hauled, as he wished to see how near he could run to the wind without falling off.

Although the wind was unfavorable, as it was not steady, coming in gusts now and then, Frank waited till fair headway had been obtained, and then had Barney luff till the course was close into the wind, which was held long enough to convince him that the Greyhound did not jibe easily.

“Good!” he exclaimed, with satisfaction. “I was afraid she might prove cranky. Hold her as close as you can, Barney, and not let her yaw. I believe she is a dandy against the wind. If she proves all right before the wind, we’ll give Lord Stanford a hot little run of it.”

CHAPTER VII – THE STORM

After a while Frank went below to examine the interior of the yacht. He found it very comfortable and well furnished with all necessities and not a few luxuries.