jode lenning’s experience with shoup and geohegan, his recovery of the stolen mail bags, and his rescue of colonel hawtrey from the runaway ore car were topics of discussion in that part of arizona for a good many days.
geohegan, it developed, was the cracksman who, on a former occasion, had helped shoup break into the safe at the cyanide works and make off with four bars of bullion. hawkins had been hunting for shoup and geohegan on the score of that attempted robbery, and he had about given up finding the rascally pair, when they dropped into his hands through that holdup in the cañon.
shoup, although a young fellow, was a drug fiend. he had gone from bad to worse, until now he had committed a crime which, in all likelihood, would have to be expiated in some government prison.
in the confession which geohegan made, it appeared that the two thieves had blundered upon lenning entirely by chance. taking his clothes and his horse was a plan of shoup’s. after hiding the mail bags in the cañon, the two robbers had gone into the gulch. here they discovered some of hawkins’ posse, and fled to escape them. they were followed relentlessly, and finally captured.
two drafts for twenty-five thousand dollars each, one for the professor and one for mrs. boorland, were found in one of the stolen mail pouches. thus the matter of the mine in the picketpost mountains was wound up, and nothing further remained to delay the departure of frank and his chums from southern arizona.
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the one thing frank had wished for with all his heart—the reconciliation between colonel hawtrey and lenning—had been accomplished. the lad now felt that he could leave ophir with a cheerful spirit.
among the first to pay lenning a visit in the ophir bunk house and congratulate him on his brightening prospects were clancy and ballard.
“don’t congratulate me, fellows,” said lenning. “give merriwell the credit. he was my friend when every one else had turned against me. whenever i needed a boost in the right direction, i could always count on him to give it. i’ll never forget chip, and i’ll never cease to be grateful to him.”
“chip is all to the mustard,” said clancy loyally, “and i can only find fault with him about one thing.”
“what is that?”
“he wouldn’t let pink and me go along with him and blunt when they answered that mysterious call from dolliver. see what a lot of excitement we missed!”
“that was a case, clancy,” smiled lenning, “where two of you were company and four would have been a crowd.”
“all right,” assented ballard cheerfully, “we’ll leave it that way. going to gold hill to live, jode, as soon as that broken pin is mended?”
“no,” replied lenning, “i’m going to stay right here and work for mr. bradlaugh and mr. burke. the colonel has done the fine thing by me, and he’d do more, but i don’t intend to let him. from now on i shall make my own way in the world.”
and for this determination, clancy, ballard, and all the rest of lenning’s friends thought more of him than ever.
it was wednesday when frank and his chums took
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their leave of ophir. the last thing frank did, before getting out of the town, was to send borak to barzy blunt with a card. the card presented barzy with frank’s compliments and best wishes, and begged him to accept borak as a present.
borak had once belonged to blunt. when dire necessity urged, the cowboy had been compelled to sell the famous black steed. frank had purchased the animal, but had always intended, on leaving arizona, to return the saddler to his former owner.
when the stage, which was to take the boys to gold hill, the nearest railroad point, pulled up at the door of the ophir house, pophagan, woo sing, and a host of others were gathered on the veranda to bid merriwell, clancy, and ballard good-by. a miner, whose regard frank had won by coaching the ophir football squad to victory, presented each of the lads with a nugget of placer gold to be made into a scarfpin.
“you’re sartinly the clear quill, kids,” said the miner, “and we’re a heap proud to have had ye among us. pure gold, them nuggets is, and i reckon as how you’re all three the same. come back to us some time. don’t let this be the last time we see ye.”
“maybe we will,” said frank, shaking hands all around with a smothered feeling in his throat. “you’ve been mighty good to us, all you ophir people.”
“that’s no jolly,” said the red-headed chap.
“we almost feel like we belonged to ophir,” added ballard.
the professor had gone on to gold hill the day before, and the boys were to meet him in that town, and they were all to proceed northward together.
when the lads had shaken hands until their arms ached, they climbed into the stage, and the driver
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whipped up his team. as they rolled down the straggling, familiar street, cheers went up from the hotel and were echoed all along the sidewalks.
“three cheers for merriwell, clancy, and ballard!” rang out the cry, and they were given again and again with a hearty good will.
“seems almost like we were leaving home,” sniffed clancy.
“that’s right, red!” agreed ballard.
but merriwell said nothing. he could not trust himself to speak.
“frank merriwell, jr.’s mission” will be the title of the next volume of the merriwell series, no. 218. burt l. standish has outdone himself in this latest narrative. it is a tale of sympathetic understanding and real friendship, as well as a story of action and excitement.
