water was dashed into cole’s face, and he was given a swallow or two. it was some minutes before he could sit on a chair without threatening to pitch off to the floor.
when he could sit up he looked around for dick.
merriwell was there, and, as he stepped forward, he said:
“i hope you’re not badly hurt, cole. i didn’t mean to wind it up this way, but you forced me. i had to.”
“that’s all right,” said cole in a low tone. “it’s not wound up yet!”
“whatever does he want, pard?” exclaimed buckhart. “is he piggish enough to be itching for any more?”
“i hope not,” said dick. “he ought to be satisfied.”
“i ain’t satisfied!” grated jack. “i never had nobody do me up before, and i won’t forget this!”
“it’s an outrage!” declared old john, flourishing his fists in the air and glaring around. “i say it’s an outrage, henry duncan!”
“you brought it on your son, sir,” said duncan coldly. “you came here and forced the encounter. merriwell was considerate with your son until he saw it was jack’s purpose to do him injury.”
“he couldn’t do up my boy again in a year!” snapped the old man. “it was jest an accident, anyhow!”
“you mulish old ignoramus!” exclaimed duncan, in exasperation he could not repress. “only for you at the outset we would have retained these boys here as the maplewood baseball team. you joined hammerswell and backed him up when he refused to accept them. he used you as his tool. are you satisfied with the result? when he became tired of your boy he kicked him off the maplewood team. you’re a particularly offensive nuisance, john cole. this clubhouse is on private grounds, and hereafter i wish you and your son to keep away from it. we don’t want you here. perhaps that’s plain enough for you to understand.”
“oh, yes, it’s plain enough!” snarled old john. “i understand all about you, duncan! you think you’re mighty fine and aristocratic because you happened to get in with the summer folk who come here. you think you’re a lot better than us people who belong here.”
“that will do!” said duncan. “i think your son is able to use his feet now. take him and walk.”
although old john seized jack by the arm and they started away, he continued to splutter and snarl until he was quite out of hearing.
“i congratulate you, my boy,” said mr. duncan, as he placed his hand on dick’s shoulder. “i confess i feared that strapping chap would be too much for you. you demonstrated that you knew more than he about the science of boxing, but until near the finish i didn’t fancy you could put him out. your forbearance is creditable.”
“i thought he might quit,” said dick.
“he’s not the kind to quit easily. i advise you to look out for him. it’s my opinion he’s revengeful and will try to square this thing up. it won’t surprise me if you had trouble at the ball field this afternoon.”
the boys spent the rest of the afternoon lazing about on the veranda of the clubhouse or swimming in the lake. near midday one of the rooms of the clubhouse was closed and the boys heard the rattling of crockery within that room.
this interested tubbs at once, and he immediately pricked up his ears, while a look of expectancy came to his face.
“something doing in there,” he piped. “seems ter me i smell pie.”
within thirty minutes mr. duncan appeared on the veranda and invited the boys to come in.
the room had again been thrown open, and the sight they beheld caused them to gasp in astonishment. a long table was covered with a snowy cloth. this table was daintily set, and the display of food upon it made their mouths water.
but by far the most agreeable spectacle was presented by six young girls in white, three on one side of the table and three on the other, who evidently were there to act as waitresses.
brad buckhart stopped short and caught his breath.
“oh, say,” he muttered, “i can’t do it! i certain can’t plant myself there with them to wait on us. they are the real swell articles, and i sure feel more like making a choice and inviting one to dine with me some.”
the astonishment the boys could not conceal caused the girls to smile a little.
“sit right down, boys,” laughed henry duncan. “this is not the maple heights hotel, but i fancy you will find enough here to satisfy you.”
“to satisfy us!” said obediah tubbs, in his piping voice, which he tried to repress. “well, if anybody in this crowd isn’t satisfied with what there’s here, he ought to go drown himself, by jim!”
“sus-sus-sus-sus-shut up!” whispered jolliby. “don’t make a fool of yourself!”
“he couldn’t do that,” said smart. “nature got ahead of him on that job.”
it was a jolly meal. the boys enjoyed themselves thoroughly, especially tubbs, whose liking for pie was known by the pretty girl who waited on him. she had pie of all kinds for obediah, and he sampled every variety placed before him.
“i bet i’ll play the best game i ever played in my life this afternoon,” he chuckled.
when the meal was finished dick made a little speech of thanks, addressed to the girls, to henry duncan, and to the maplewood canoe club.
“for some time,” answered mr. duncan, “it has been my desire to show you in some manner that there are those in maplewood who sincerely regret what took place here on your first arrival in the town. we wished to show our friendly feeling toward you and your companions of the fairhaven baseball team. baseball properly played is a clean, manly, wholesome sport. i am sorry to say that baseball as conducted by one or two teams in this league has been anything but clean, manly, and wholesome. it was my conviction from the first that fairhaven had a team to be proud of, both as gentlemen and as ball players. never yet, on the ball field or elsewhere, have i heard anything from a fairhaven player that could offend the most sensitive and particular person. i wish to add that, with the single exception of benton hammerswell, the original maplewood baseball association regrets exceedingly that you were not all retained in maplewood to represent this town in the league. you have made a gallant struggle against seemingly overwhelming odds, and should you succeed in winning the pennant for fairhaven, be sure that many persons in maplewood will feel intensely satisfied over such a result.”
he was heartily applauded, and again dick uttered a few words of thanks.
the pretty waitresses smiled on the boys as they filed out of the room, and then the sliding door closed once more.
after dinner some of the boys tried the canoes. brad was anxious to try one, and induced dick to accompany him. they were given the use of henry duncan’s own canoe, and in this they sped away over the smooth surface of the lake.
in the bottom of the canoe lay a coil of small rope, which buckhart observed, wondering for what purpose it was generally used.
“talk about flying!” laughed the texan. “this is the next thing to it. i say, pard, did you hear them say anything about a fine echo that can be heard at the upper end of this lake? they say the hills yonder fling back the sounds and make them wonderfully distinct. let’s paddle over there and give the echo a try-out. what do you say?”
dick readily agreed, and they headed toward the precipitous hills near the head of the lake. as they approached the locality for which they were heading, they passed close to a small and heavily wooded island.
suddenly dick ducked involuntarily, for over his head he heard the hum of a bullet almost simultaneously with the crack of a rifle somewhere on the island.
“that was a little too close!” he exclaimed. “somebody is decidedly careless!”
buckhart blazed his indignation.
“i should say so!” he exclaimed. “it must have been a right close call, partner.”
“don’t think he missed me by more than a foot, at most,” said dick.
brad had paused with his paddle uplifted. a strange expression settled on his rugged face.
“look here, dick,” he said, in a low tone, “i don’t more than half reckon that was accidental.”
“what do you mean?”
“somehow i fancy a whole lot that the bullet was intended for you.”
“impossible!” exclaimed dick.
“all the same, i’ve got it into my head that way. i say, partner, let’s land on that island and see who did the shooting.”
immediately dick dipped his paddle into the water and headed the canoe toward the island.
barely had they taken a stroke or two, before merriwell saw another canoe move out from the opposite side of the island and swiftly glide away. there were two persons in it, and both were plying paddles.
“there they go, buckhart!” said dick. “one of them fired that shot.”
“hike up, partner!” exclaimed the texan. “let’s get after the galoots good and lively.”
without delay the pursuit began. the occupants of the strange canoe glanced back and saw they were followed. immediately they bent to their work, and this aroused both brad and dick.
“they are a heap anxious to get away, pard,” breathed the texan. “that looks a whole lot guilty.”
“do you know them?” asked dick.
“haven’t taken a square squint at them yet.”
“it’s jack cole in the stern,” merriwell declared.
“that varmint!” grated brad. “then it’s a plenty lucky the bullet missed you at all.”
“i don’t like to think jack cole would deliberately do a thing like that,” said dick.
“i judge i know the other gentleman,” suddenly declared brad. “if that bullet had come my way i’d bet all my loose collateral he fired at me.”
dick’s keen eyes surveyed cole’s companion in the canoe.
“brad,” he said, “i believe that’s tom fernald.”
“hit him first crack out of the box,” said the texan.
“they’ll deny they fired at all.”
“that’s what they will. it’s up to us to run them down and take a look into their canoe. if they have a gun with them, then they can do some explaining. bend to it, partner. we’re gaining.”
both canoes were merrily flying now. cole and his companion were doing their best, but fernald’s skill with the paddle was not equal to that of the boy. sometimes he missed a stroke and cole was heard speaking sharply to him.
the excitement of the race took hold of brad and dick. with the steadiness of clockwork they swung their paddles and bent to the task.
dip and lift! dip and lift!
on either side the smooth water seemed flying backward, while the canoe raised a slight ripple and left a broadening wake behind it.
cole and fernald headed down the western shore of the lake, apparently looking for a good chance to run in and leave the canoe before their pursuers could come up. all along there the shore was rocky, and no favorable landing spot presented itself.
“we’ve got them, brad!” laughed dick exultantly.
the faces of the boys were flushed and their eyes gleaming. they felt the breeze rush past their ears.
before long fernald began to show signs of weariness. once more cole was heard speaking to him, and this time it was plain the boy urged him to keep at it and do his best.
“wait some,” invited buckhart. “we want to chat with you a little.”
“you go to thunder!” cried cole, once more glancing back.
still the pursuers continued. fernald seemed inclined to give up, but cole would not quit.
foot by foot the canoe in the rear drew nearer to the one in advance. the distance that separated them was cut down swiftly, and brad muttered:
“we’ll be on top of them in less than two minutes.”
not more than ten feet lay between the canoes when buckhart, giving an unusually heavy surge at the paddle, met with an accident.
the handle of the paddle snapped short off.
the texan uttered an exclamation of dismay.
glancing back, cole saw what had happened, and again urged fernald to exert himself.
“now wouldn’t that bump you some!” exclaimed brad. “in four seconds more i could have placed my hand on his neck.”
dick had not ceased paddling. instead of that, he seemed to put more force into his strokes, if such a thing were possible.
although both fernald and cole pulled away as hard as they could, the distance between the boats increased with astonishing slowness. plainly merriwell was nearly equal to the task of keeping up alone.
suddenly an idea occurred to buckhart. he turned his body and reached backward for the coil of rope behind him.
“keep it up, partner!” he palpitated. “just hold her as she is a minute.”
then the texan made a running noose in one end of the rope. he did this with the skill acquired from cowboy instructors on his father’s ranch. having accomplished his object, the texan ran off some of the rope into loops, which he held in his left hand.
“she may not work, dick,” he said. “all the same, we’ll give her a try.”
then, as he knelt in the canoe, he swung the loop of the rope once or twice round his head and sent it writhing through the air.
the cast was made with all the cleverness of a mexican lariat thrower. the noose fell over cole’s head and shoulders, and buckhart quickly drew it taut, pinning jack’s arms to his sides.
had cole been aware of brad’s purpose, he might have flung the noose off by quickly lifting his arms. not being aware of it, he was taken by surprise and found himself unable to ply the paddle. not only that, but the forward motion of his canoe was checked and a steady pull by the texan drew the other canoe nearer.
in his excitement cole made an effort to cast aside the noose. in doing this he partly rose to his feet, and a moment later the canoe shot out from beneath him, sending him with a loud splash into the water.
it happened at that very moment that buckhart had relaxed his grip on the rope slightly as he moved forward toward the prow of the canoe, with the intention of grasping the one in advance. as cole went down, the rope was snapped from buckhart’s fingers.
although cole had thus been projected into the lake, the canoe from which he plunged did not upset. it seemed to dart from beneath him.
fernald turned a somewhat agitated face to look round and was amazed to find himself alone in the canoe. in a moment, nevertheless, he realized that his late companion had fallen overboard. he also saw that attention had been turned from him to cole.
immediately the man retreated toward the middle of the canoe in order to balance it evenly, and then, without offering to aid in the rescue of jack cole, he paddled hurriedly away.
“hold on, fernald!” cried dick. “wait and help your friend! don’t play the coward!”
the man made no retort, but continued to pull away.
cole rose to the surface and attempted to swim. to his horror, he found he was entangled in the rope in such a manner that he could not take a stroke.
with a gurgling cry, he again disappeared from view.
dick merriwell wasted no time. slipping off his shoes and speaking a word of warning to brad in order that the texan might not be taken by surprise and upset, he plunged from the canoe into the lake, thus promptly going to the assistance of his enemy.
