Dick Merriwell Abroad: or, The Ban of the Terrible Ten

A growl of rage came from the throat of Brad Buckhart, and he planted himself in front of Marsh and Durbin, his fists clinched and his whole atmosphere breathing fight.

“Whatever are you two sneaking, onery, low-down coyotes doing here?” he roared, his rugged face dark as a storm cloud.

“My goodness! my goodness!” gasped Zenas Gunn, in great alarm. “Stop him, Richard, or he will attack them! We shall be arrested for making a disgraceful disturbance here!”

Dick caught Brad’s muscular arm in a grip of iron.

“Go slow, old man!” he said, in a low tone.

Neither Marsh nor Durbin acted as if the encounter had given them great surprise. Durbin was smoking a black, rank-smelling cigar, which he rolled into the corner of his mouth, thrusting his pudgy hands deep into his trousers pockets, and surveying the trio before him with an air of insolent contempt.

Marsh exposed his teeth in a sneering grin.

“Why, hello!” he said, in a voice like the croaking of a bullfrog. “So you people are here, eh? What are we doing? Well, I rather guess we have just as good right to visit this old castle as you have.”

“Right,” said Durbin. “And he wants ter be careful about callin’ folks names, or he’ll git his block knocked off. See!”

Dick felt Brad’s arm quiver and the muscles tighten.

“I’d certain enjoy it a heap if either of you varmints would try to knock my block off!” exclaimed the Texan. “I’d enjoy it if you both tried the trick! Just break loose and sail right into me. I’ll stampede over you red-hot and a-whooping, as sure as I’m the Unbranded Maverick of the Rio Pecos!”

“You’re just as big a blower as ever,” said Marsh. “Why don’t you cut out that hot air and learn decency in your talk.”

“Learn decency! Whoop! Would I learn it any of you? Why, you crawling cur, you haven’t one decent bone in your body!”

“Stop him – Dick, do stop him!” gasped the professor. “He’ll get us into a broil!”

Dick’s good judgment told him that it was better to avoid an encounter at that time and place, and, therefore, he spoke a few words to Buckhart, seeking to quiet him.

“That’s right!” cried Marsh. “Better pull him away if you don’t want him hurt.”

“You’ll never harm any one,” said Dick, remembering Hector’s natural cowardice. “I don’t wish him to soil his hands on you, that’s all.”

“If the hot-air merchant wants ter fight,” said Durbin, “why don’t you give him all he’s lookin’ fer, Heck? We’ll jest step aside somewhere an’ you can knock the stuffin’ outer him. I’ll see that his frien’s don’t interfere.”

Marsh turned pale at the thought. He had not the slightest desire to meet Bradley Buckhart in a square fight, man to man.

“Oh, no!” he quickly said. “The fellow talks fight, but it’s all talk.”

“It is, eh?” cried Buckhart, attempting to free himself from Dick’s clutch and stride forward, a furious gleam in his eyes.

Suddenly the bold front Marsh had assumed disappeared. Knowing Merriwell’s disinclination to engage in a personal encounter unless forced to do so, and counting on the pacifying influence of Professor Gunn, the fellow had assumed an air of bravery that was entirely fictitious. Thinking the Texan might get free and come at him, he now dodged behind Durbin, crying:

“Keep your distance! I’ll have the law on you if you touch me! I can prove that we were going about our business when you stopped us.”

Buckhart paused in disgust, muttering:

“I might have known it! I didn’t stop to think what a coward he was at school.”

Durbin showed disappointment.

“Here, what are you dodging for?” he snapped. “You’ve tol’ me fifty times that that fellow was nuttin’ but a bag of wind, and that you could knock the tar outer him in a minute.”

“So I can – if I want to,” said Heck. “But I don’t want – at least, not here. There’s plenty of time. I’ll see him again. I’ll fix him all right.”

“Come along, Brad,” urged Dick. “Here come some other visitors from the castle. Don’t let them see you wasting words on such a worthless and cowardly scamp.”

Professor Gunn also took hold of the Texan and urged him to move away.

“It is the regret of my life,” said the old pedagogue, “that while the fellow was in school I did not sooner learn his true character. I am sorry he was permitted to remain there so long to contaminate other boys.”

“Bah, you old fossil!” croaked Marsh. “You’re an old back-number anyhow, and you’re not fit to teach a monkey school. Why don’t you go die and get yourself buried out of the way! You’d never be missed.”

“Outrageous – outrageous!” gasped Zenas, shaking his cane at the insulting chap. “I’d like to break this stick over your back, you scamp!”

“You never will, old lobster. If you should try it I’d give you a punch in the bread basket that would unhinge you.”

“Are you going to remain here longer and give him further opportunity to insult me, Bradley!” demanded Gunn.

“I’ll go,” said Buckhart, cooling down a little. “Dick is right about him. He is a pitiful coward, and any one who touches him will simply soil his hands.”

As they walked away Marsh continued to shout taunts and insults until they were quite out of hearing.

“Now what do you think about it, partner?” asked Buckhart, as they retraced their way into the city.

“About what?” asked Dick.

“About the possibility that there is something wrong, and that is why Nadia and her brother failed to meet us here. Marsh and Durbin are here, and you can bet your sweet life Bunol is not far away. They followed the Budthornes.”

“It may be that you are right.”

“I’m plumb certain of it. That gang has not given up the hope of again getting hold of Dunbar Budthorne and squeezing money out of him. But what worries me most is the fact that Bunol has an infamous scheme to force Nadia into marriage with him. Just think of it! That sweetest of girls married to a snake like Mig Bunol! It’s enough to make a chap crazy!”

“He’ll never succeed in that, don’t worry, Brad. She knows him, and she despises him quite as much as we do.”

“But they may make her a right good lot of trouble.”

“The fact that those fellows are here in Edinburgh would seem to indicate that the Budthornes must be in the city. Perhaps there was some mistake about the hotel where we are to meet them. We must search for them, Brad.”

“That’s the stuff, pard; we’ll turn this old city over, but we’ll find them.”

“Dear me!” said Professor Gunn. “I hope there will be no serious trouble. I do hope we’ll not get into a fight of any sort with those ruffians.”

“But, professor,” smiled Dick, “a short time ago, as you were recalling the fact that we are in the land of Wallace and Bruce, you said you knew there was good fighting stuff in you and you lamented greatly because you had never been given an opportunity to demonstrate what a hero you really are. It is possible you may have an opportunity while we are in Scotland. Who knows? I seem to scent fighting in the crisp air here.”

“Goodness knows that’s not the sort of fighting I meant! I could shed my blood joyfully for my country, or something like that; but fighting of any other sort is low and degrading and I abhor it – I abhor it.”

Upon arriving at their hotel they found a letter there, addressed to Dick.