the short mile separating ophir from the mine was quickly covered by the big car. there was little time for conversation during the ride, and what little talk the general manager indulged in had nothing to do with lenning, but concerned mexican joe entirely.
“burke got hold of joe less than two weeks since,” remarked mr. bradlaugh. “the boy came here from a mine near wickenburg, with the best recommendations i ever saw for a mexican. he’s as strong as a horse and as spry as a wild cat; what’s more to the point, he knows his business, and is straight as a string. just now, merriwell, joe is a comparative stranger. he flocks by himself pretty much, but he is well liked by those who have come to know him. burke, the superintendent, can’t say too much in his favor.”
“how old is he?” frank asked.
“eighteen.”
a disappointment awaited the general manager and merriwell when they stopped at the blacksmith shop for a few words with mexican joe. joe had been given leave of absence by burke to go to the bedside of a sick relative who lived near gold hill.
the superintendent, who saw the car at the blacksmith shop, strolled down from the little headquarters office to find out what the general manager wanted. his face lighted up when he heard about the forthcoming ball game.
“you’ve got to have joe, merriwell,” he declared. “our
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miners play ball a little, between shifts, and i’ve seen joe behind the bat. he’s a wonder as a backstop.”
“but if he’s away,” frank answered, intensely disappointed, “how can we possibly have him?”
“he’ll be back to-morrow morning, and i’ll arrange to have him go out to the clubhouse whenever you say.”
“good! make it to-morrow afternoon at two-thirty.”
“he’ll be there; and i can promise you that, on the day of the game, there’ll be a big attendance from these diggings. but don’t you let gold hill down you!”
“we’re going to do our best, burke,” laughed merriwell. “where is lenning?”
“lenning?” the super echoed, giving frank a quick glance, and then shifting his gaze to the general manager.
“merriwell,” mr. bradlaugh explained passively, “has chosen lenning for one of his players.”
it seemed, for a moment, as though burke was going to voice a protest of his own against the availability of lenning. he thought better of it, however.
“lenning ought to be at the bunk house now,” said he. “he’s still the night watchman, you know, and doesn’t go on duty until seven-thirty.”
“you go over to the bunk house, merriwell, and talk with him,” suggested mr. bradlaugh. “i’ll stay here with burke.”
frank was glad that he was to be alone when he talked with lenning. in a private interview there would be less restraint, and a freer expression of views and motives, than could have been the case if the general manager or the superintendent had been present.
lenning was found sitting on a bench in the shadow of the bunk-house wall. his back was against the wall and his eyes were turned upward, staring into vacancy.
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evidently he was in a thoughtful mood, and gave no heed to frank when he came around the corner of the bunk house.
at a little distance, frank halted. the friendly shout which was on his lips was smothered, and he stood silently at gaze for a few moments studying the form on the bench.
lenning had a sinister face and eyes that showed a tendency to waver and shift about, looking anywhere but at the person with whom he happened to be talking. neither face nor eyes, it must be admitted, were calculated to inspire confidence. and yet, as merry knew well, such appearances are not to be taken as final in judging a person’s character.
just at that moment, lenning’s face wore an overwhelming expression of sadness, perhaps of contrition. he did not have to go far into his past to find abundant cause for self-reproach and regret.
lenning, when he had posed as the favorite nephew of colonel hawtrey, had been allowed everything for his comfort that money could buy. his only work had been to act as his uncle’s secretary, and he had worn expensive clothes and had been supplied with more of the good things of life than often come the way of most boys.
now, by contrast, he was an ordinary hand at the cyanide plant, and the serviceable corduroys in which he was clad were frayed and stained with oil and dust. from almost a drone, living on another’s bounty, jode lenning had become a worker, and was earning his own support.
here was proof of lenning’s resolve to be different from what he had been, and it was one of the things that had impelled merriwell to befriend the fellow when all others had turned against him. with an odd feeling
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of heightened respect for the lad on the bench, frank moved forward with a cheery, “hello, jode!”
lenning gave a start, lowered his eyes, and turned. the next moment he had started to his feet, a pleased smile wreathing his lips.
“howdy, merriwell?” he called, taking the newcomer’s outstretched hand. “what brings you over this way? had a notion you’d left arizona by this time.”
“i wouldn’t do that, len,” answered frank, “without coming around to say good-by. can’t tell just how soon we’ll go, but it won’t be for a few days yet. what sort of a ball player are you, old chap?”
the question rather surprised lenning.
“oh,” he answered noncommittally, “i know the game, after a fashion. but i’m no great shucks at it.”
“i guess you’re pretty good, from what i hear. i’m picking up some fellows for a game next saturday. how’d you like to make one of the nine?”
“you—you don’t want me, do you?” lenning inquired curiously.
“sure i want you.”
“who’s going to play?”
“ballard, and clancy, and i; then mexican joe, if we can get him, and a few chaps from the o. a. c.”
“i reckon you better count me out,” said lenning, turning his face away. “it wouldn’t be pleasant for your chums, or the o. a. c. fellows, to have me around.”
“bother that! i’m bossing this nine, and i guess that whatever i say will have to go. don’t be foolish, len. i’ve got a special reason for wanting you in that game.”
“what reason?” lenning, steadily enough, brought back his gaze and fixed it on merriwell.
“for one thing,” explained frank, “there’s nothing like a good, stiff contest on a ball field to level the differences
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one chap may have against another. i’ve seen out-and-out enemies play together, help each other in a pinch, according to league rules, and then, when the game was done, forget that they’d ever had a grouch. something queer about what the diamond can do in a case of that kind, but it’s a fact, all the same.”
lenning’s face clouded and filled with distrust.
“you think, merriwell,” said he, “that i haven’t any friends, and that this game would probably make some for me. is that it?”
“well, yes, something like that.”
“don’t you know,” went on lenning, paling a little under his tan, “that if i failed in a close play some one would say that i was trying to throw the game? nobody has any confidence in me. every one has the notion that i’m a crook, and can’t get over it. my cue is to keep away from people. i’m sorry, merriwell, because if there’s one person on earth i’d hate to disappoint, it’s you.”
“i don’t think that’s the proper spirit, lenning,” insisted frank. “you’re all right, but how is any one going to know it if you don’t get out and show them? i’m planning on you. you’re one of the first fellows i thought about when the idea of the game was sprung on me this afternoon.”
“who sprung it?”
“colonel hawtrey.”
“and your pick-up nine is going to play a team from gold hill?”
“yes.”
“that does settle it. even if i could get along with the ophir crowd, i’ll bet the gold hillers would refuse to play if they knew i was in the game.”
there was bitterness in the boy’s voice.
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“why,” he went on, “the colonel himself would be the first to kick up trouble. i’m asking no odds of my uncle. he’s cut loose from me, and i’m not blaming him. i’ve got my own way to make, and i’m going to do it without trying to curry favor with colonel hawtrey. you’ll have to find another player in my place, merriwell.”
frank had not expected lenning to take such a stand. although it was beginning to look as though his choice of lenning for the nine, if not unwise, might be hopeless, yet he continued to try persuasion.
“i’ve got my heart set on this,” said he, “and you might at least go over to the athletic field with me and join in the preliminary round-up.”
“haven’t time for athletics,” was the answer. “i have to work nights, you know, so i can’t very well stay up all day.”
“mr. bradlaugh says that he’ll relieve you of your work between now and saturday, if you’ll play.”
lenning’s interest showed itself immediately.
“mr. bradlaugh said that, did he?” he asked, as though surprised.
“yes.”
“did he say he thought it was all right for me to get into that game?”
“that part of it was left with me, len,” frank answered. “you like to play ball, don’t you?”
lenning’s face lit up with a sudden glow, and his eyes sparkled. but it was only for a moment. a dejected expression quickly drove away the flash of feeling.
“i don’t think that has anything to do with it, merriwell,” he returned.
“then, you won’t play? you won’t give yourself a chance to make good on the diamond?”
there was something about the phrase “make good”
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which evidently struck the right chord in lenning’s new resolutions.
“i’d do a heap for you, merriwell,” said he, in a low tone, “and if you really are anxious to have me go over to the clubhouse grounds this afternoon, and it’s all right with mr. burke, i’ll go. but i won’t promise to play until i see how matters stack up on the diamond. how does that strike you?”
“get your hat, len, and come along,” answered merriwell, pleased to secure even that much of a concession.