Dick Merriwell's Trap: or, The Chap Who Bungled

“Oh, hush, Chester!” she said gently. “I am very sorry anything happened to you.”

“And you came near being killed, too. If you had – ”

“Don’t talk that way! I am all right, thanks to Mr. Merriwell.”

He started as if he had been stabbed with a keen point, his face showing pain and anger.

“That fellow! that fellow!” he panted. “That he should be the one to stop the horse! Oh, I’d given anything rather than had him save you!”

“I presume you would have preferred to see me thrown out and injured or killed!” she exclaimed.

“No,” he huskily said, “no, June! Oh, you don’t know how I felt when I realized what had happened and that you might be hurt! I tried to get up and run after the horse, but I didn’t have the strength. June, you know I – I wouldn’t have harm come to you for anything. You know it! But to have him save you!”

There was no doubting Chester Arlington’s affection for his sister; but his hatred for Dick Merriwell was equally intense.

“My dear brother!” she murmured, gently touching his hair. “Don’t be silly! Don’t worry any more. It’s all right.”

“No, no; all wrong!” he groaned.

CHAPTER III – HAPPINESS AND MISERY

Dick escaped from the crowd and from his friends and took a bath, followed by a brisk rub-down. When this was over, he donned his clothes, feeling pretty well, for all of the game he had played through, for all of his exertions in pursuing the runaway, for all of the bruises received in stopping the frightened horse.

Being in perfect physical condition, he recovered swiftly. His eyes were sparkling and there was a healthy glow in his cheeks as he hurriedly packed his stuff and prepared to take the train that was to carry the triumphant cadets back to Fardale.

He could hear the boys singing in a room across the corridor. The “faithful” were having a high old time. They were packed into that room, their arms locked about one another, howling forth the old songs of their academy, “Fair Fardale,” “The Red and Black,” and “Fardale’s Way.”

“It’s no use moaning, it’s no use groaning,
It’s no use feeling sore;
Keep on staying, keep on playing,
As you’ve done before.
Fight, you sinner; you’re a winner,
If you stick and stay;
Never give in while you’re living —
That is Fardale’s way.”

Dick smiled as he heard this familiar old song roared forth by the lusty-lunged chaps who were rejoicing over the wonderful victory. It gave him a feeling of inexpressible pleasure, and it was something he would never forget as long as he lived.

Oh, these wonderful days at Fardale! It was not likely he would forget them in after years. He had learned to love the old school as Frank Merriwell loved it before him, and he was thankful that Frank had rescued him from the lonely life in far-away Pleasant Valley beneath the shadow of the Rockies and brought him to the academy.

Not that Dick’s heart had ever ceased to turn lovingly toward the hidden valley where he had lived a peaceful, happy life, with his little cousin Felicia Delores as his sole companion and playmate near his own age. True, he often thought of the days when he had wandered alone into the woods and called about him the birds and wild creatures, every one of whom seemed to know him and fear him not a bit. True it was that he realized a change had come over him so that no longer could he call the birds and the squirrels as he had done; but still he was happy and had no desire to exchange the present for the past.

“No matter where we roam in the mystic years to come,
There are days we never shall forget,
The happy days when we, in a school beside the sea,
Cast aside the past without regret;
’Twas there sweet friendship grew ’mid hearts forever true,
And our longing souls must oft turn back
With yearnings for that time in youth’s fair golden clime
When we wore the royal red and black.

“Oh, the royal red and black!
We’ll love it to the end.
True to it we’ll stand,
And true to every friend;
So rise up, boys, and cheer
For those colors bright and clear —
For the royal red and black.”

In spite of himself, Dick’s eyes filled with a mist as he heard this sweet song, in which the great chorus joined in that room packed with loyal Fardale lads. His lips smiled while there was a tear in his eye, for that tear was a pearl of happiness. They were cheering! He stopped and listened. They cheered for the red and black, and then a voice cried:

“I propose the long cheer for Captain Merriwell, the royal defender of the red and black, the greatest captain Fardale ever knew, and the finest fellow who ever breathed. Let her go!”

They did let her go! It seemed that they would raise the roof. And the cheer ended with Dick’s name three times shouted at the full capacity of their lusty, boyish lungs.

In his room Chester Arlington heard them, and he writhed with mental anguish that caused him to forget his bodily pain.

“Fools! fools!” he snarled. “Where is Darrell? Why doesn’t he come to me? Is he ashamed because he broke his promise not to play? Well, he ought to be! He swore he wouldn’t go into that game, and then he went!”

June could have told her brother that Hal offered to go into the game because she had urged him to do so, but she did not care to agitate Chester any further just then.

“You must keep still,” she said. “The doctor is going to bring back another physician and make a closer examination. You may be seriously hurt.”

“No!” snapped Chester. “I won’t have it so!”

“But I hope it is not so.”

“I won’t have it so! Why should I be hurt while he – while Dick Merriwell is all right? It isn’t possible!”

“I hope not! I think you will be all right, Chester.”

“You’re a good sister, June!” he suddenly exclaimed, looking at her. “I’m sorry you made the mistake of having anything to do with that cheap fellow Merriwell. But, June, you can never know how I felt when I saw you in that carriage and knew I could do nothing to save you. I thought I should die! But to have him save you, June – that was the bitterest pill of all!”

“Don’t keep thinking about that, Chester. Just be quiet until we find out how much you are hurt. It will kill mother if you are hurt much.”

For Chester Arlington’s mother doted on him. He was her pride and joy, and she had implicit confidence in him. She had permitted June to come to Fardale to satisfy June that Chester was in the right in his trouble with Dick Merriwell, but she had not fancied that June did not mean to let her brother know she was in town until after she had investigated and discovered the truth.

“I won’t be hurt!” exclaimed the unfortunate lad. “Why should anything like that happen to me? But it was so strange that I had no strength in my legs when I tried to stand.”

“That is what worried the doctor.”

“Worried him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He was afraid your spine had been injured.”