Frank Merriwell's Alarm: or, Doing His Best

“That’s dead easy. Of course I forgive you. Think I’m a stiff to hold a grudge over a little matter like that?”

Diamond looked his admiration from his bloodshot eyes.

“You’re all right, Merry,” he hoarsely declared. “You always were all right. I knew it all along. Sometimes I get nasty, for I have a jealous nature, although I try to hold it in check. I never did try to hold myself in check in any way till I knew you and saw how you controlled your tastes and passions. That was a revelation to me, Merry. You know I hated you at first, but I came to admire you, despite myself. I have admired you ever since. Sometimes the worst side of my nature will crop out, but I always know I am wrong. Forgive me for striking you.”

“There, there, old chap! Why are you thinking of such silly things? You are talking as if you had done me a deadly wrong, and this was your last chance to square yourself.”

“It is my last chance – I am sure of that. I am played out, and I can’t drive that wheel farther. It’s no use – I throw up the sponge right here.”

A look of determination came to Frank’s face.

“You shall not do anything of the kind!” he cried. “I won’t have it, Jack!”

Diamond did not reply, but lay limp on the ground. Frank put a firm hand on his shoulder, saying:

“Come, Jack, make a bluff at it.”

“No use!”

“I tell you it is! Come on. We can reach the mountains within an hour.”

“The mountains!” came huskily from Diamond’s lips. “God knows if there are any mountains! They, too, may be a mirage!”

“No! no!”

“Think – think how long we have been riding toward them and still they seemed to remain as far away as they were hours ago.”

“That is one of the peculiar effects of the air out here.”

“I do not believe any of us will reach the mountains. And if we should, we might not find water. Those mountains look baked and barren.”

“Remember, I was told how to find water there.”

But this did not give the disheartened boy courage.

“I know you were told, but the man who told you said that at times that water failed. It’s no use, Frank, the game is not worth the candle.”

Then it was that Merriwell began to grow angry.

“I am ashamed of you, Diamond!” he harshly cried. “I did think you were built of better stuff! Where is your backbone! Come, man, you must make another try!”

“Must?” came rather defiantly from Jack. “I’ll not be forced to do it!”

“Yes, you will!”

The Virginian looked at Frank in astonishment.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean that you will brace up and attempt to reach the mountains with the rest of us, or I’ll give you the blamedest licking you ever had – and there won’t be any apologies afterward, either!”

That aroused Jack somewhat.

“You – you wouldn’t do that – now?” he faltered.

“Wouldn’t I?” cried Frank, seeming to make preparations to carry out his threat. “Well, you’ll see!”

“But – but – ”

“There are no buts about it! Either you get up and make one more struggle, or I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you are not in condition to make a struggle when I leave you. This is business, and it’s straight from the shoulder!”

Diamond remonstrated weakly, but Frank seemed in sober earnest.

“I believe it would do you good,” he declared. “It would beat a little sense into you. It’s what you want, anyway.”

A sense of shame came over Jack.

“If you’ve got enough energy to give me a licking, I ought to have enough to make another try for life,” he huskily said.

“Of course you have.”

“Well, I’ll do it. It isn’t because I fear the licking, for that wouldn’t make any difference now, but I can make another try for it, if you can.”

Frank dragged the other boy to his feet, and then picked up their fallen wheels. Jack was so weak that he could scarcely stand, seeming to have been quite exhausted by his last furious struggle with the boy who had raced across the desert sands to save his life. Twice Frank caught him and kept him from falling.

“What’s the use?” Diamond hoarsely whispered. “I tell you I can’t keep in the saddle!”

“And I tell you that you must! There are the other fellows, coming this way. I will signal them to ride toward the mountains, and we will join them.”

Frank made the signal, and the others understood, for they soon turned toward the mountains again.

Then Merriwell aided Jack in mounting and getting started, mounting himself after that, and hurrying after the Virginian, whose wheel was making a very crooked track across the sand.

When it was necessary Frank supported Jack with a hand on the arm of the dark-faced lad, speaking encouraging words into his ear, urging him on.

And thus they rode toward the barren-looking Desert Range, where they must find water or death.

They came to the mountains at last, when the burning sun was hanging a ball of fire in the western sky. From a distance Merriwell had singled out Split Peak, which had served as his guide. At the foot of Split Peak were two water-holes, one on the east and one on the south.

First Frank sought for the eastern water-hole, and he found it.

But it was dry!

Dry, save for the slightest indication of moisture in the sand at the bottom of the hole.

“I told you so!” gasped Diamond, as he fell to the ground in hopeless exhaustion. “There is no water here.”

“Wait,” said Frank, hoarsely. “We’ll see if we can find some. Come, boys; we must scoop out the sand down there in the hole – we must dig for our lives.”