Dick Merriwell's Trap: or, The Chap Who Bungled. Standish Burt L.
was thinking of Dick Merriwell, and she thought how nearly Dick had been knocked out of the game that day, how she had rushed to him as he lay on the field, and how she had given him the little locket as a “charm” to keep away misfortune in the future.
“What made you do it, June?” whined the lad on the bed, and she started as she realized he was thinking of the same thing. “It was a shame – a disgrace!”
“I’m sorry I disgraced you, Chester!” she said, somewhat coldly.
“I’d rather given anything than to have my sister make such a spectacle of herself. All Fardale will know of it! They will say you are smitten on him – on that fellow!”
“Chester, I know how much you dislike him; but don’t you think you are somewhat in the wrong yourself?”
He started to his elbow, with a cry.
“It’s hard enough to be knocked out this way without having my sister go back on me for a dog like that!” he exclaimed fiercely.
“He is no dog, Chester! Have you forgotten that he stopped the runaway and saved me?”
“No! no! Wish I could!”
“Have you forgotten that this is the second time he has saved me? Surely I owe him something! I owe him respect, at least!”
“That’s all! You can keep away from him! June, you must stay in Fardale no longer. I’ll write mother. That is, if you do not decide to leave at once.”
“Perhaps I may not be able to leave.”
“Not able?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You may need me.”
“You think I am going to be as bad as that? Then that infernal doctor must have told you something he did not say to me! But I’ll fool him – I’ll fool them all! I’ll get up all right in a day or so! It’s nothing but a sprained back! Why doesn’t Darrell come to me? Has he gone back on me entirely?”
“Perhaps the doctor has told everybody to keep away.”
“Confound the doctor! June, go find Hal Darrell and tell him to come here right away. I have something to say to that fellow, and I’m going to say it while it is hot on my mind.”
“Keep still while I am gone,” she said. “Will you?”
He promised, and she left the room to look for Darrell.
CHAPTER IV – JUNE’S PROMISE
The hilarious fellows were repeating “The Red and Black” when Dick passed down-stairs in search of the boy whose bicycle had been smashed. Dick had been thinking of that lad. The boy had not raised a fuss over the destruction of his wheel, and Merriwell admired him for his behavior.
The boy was sitting on the hotel steps, mournfully trying to bend the twisted spokes back into shape. A number of his friends had gathered around him.
“It’s tough on you, Sammy,” said one of the group. “No fellow has a right to grab a chap’s wheel and smash it like that.”
“He didn’t mean to do it,” said Sammy.
“That don’t make no difference! He hadn’t any right to take it at all.”
“He did it to chase the runaway and save the girl.”
“Well, you didn’t start the runaway. You wasn’t to blame for it. Somebody oughter to pay you for your wheel.”
“The fellow whose sister he saved said he’d give anybody a hundred dollars to stop the horse. Why didn’t he keep his word? Then Dick Merriwell could pay me for my bike and have fifty dollars left.”
Dick was deeply moved by this, and he came down the steps at once. The boys looked a bit startled as they saw him and realized he might have heard some of their talk.
“So you won your bicycle in a race at a fair, Sammy?” he said.
“Yes,” said the boy, and there was a little choke in his throat. “It was the best wheel I ever had. Judge Merritt put it up as a prize for the best rider.”
“An’ he thought his son was going to git it,” put in a little fellow; “but Sammy he jest beat Arthur Merritt out at the finish an’ got the wheel, though Art was the maddest feller you ever saw.”
“Well, it’s a shame to have your wheel smashed after you worked so hard for it,” said Dick. “What did you do with your other wheel – the one you had before you got this one?”
“I sold it. It wasn’t much good, anyhow, and it only cost me nine dollars second-hand. But I earned all the money to buy it myself.”
“Did you race on your old wheel at the fair?”
“Oh, no! I never could have won on that. Fred Thurston let me have his wheel to race on.”
“Well, this bike is ruined, that’s plain,” said Dick, as he examined the ill-fated bicycle. “You’ll never ride it again.”
“I guess that’s right,” nodded Sammy sadly. “But you stopped the horse and saved the girl.”
Not a whimper, not a sign of anger, only regret for the loss of the wheel and satisfaction because Dick had been able to save June.
Young Merriwell realized that the boy was something of a hero, with a most remarkable disposition.
“Don’t worry, Sammy,” he said, smiling reassuringly. “You shall have another wheel, and I will buy it for you – a wheel just as good as this one.”
“Pardon me,” said a voice that startled Dick and caused the boys to stare as June Arlington herself came from the hotel and tripped down the steps. “I claim the privilege of buying another wheel for him. No; it is right, Mr. Merriwell! My father will gladly furnish the money when he hears how this wheel came to be broken. I’ll write him all about it this very day.”
“Hush!” grunted one of the boys doubtingly, speaking in a low tone to a companion; “that’s a big bluff! That’s jest so Sam won’t raise a row about it.”
“She’s trying to make Sam think her father has money enough to buy a fifty-dollar wheel every day if he wants to,” said the other, joining in the doubtful derision.
June was forced to smile. Sammy had risen and taken off his cap when Dick lifted his.
“It’s plain your friends haven’t much faith in my promise,” said June.
“That’s all right,” declared the owner of the wheel. “I believe it, anyhow. Of course, I feel pretty bad over my wheel, but I’m glad the horse was stopped before you was hurt.”
June’s expressive eyes glowed.
“Thank you,” she said. “Did you ever hear of D. Roscoe Arlington?”
“No; I – why, do you mean the big railroad man?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of him!”
“He is my father, and I promise you that he will buy another wheel for you at – ”
“Excuse me,” put in Dick. “But I was the one who snatched the bicycle from this boy and smashed it, so it is I who should provide for the loss.”
“Not at all,” declared June, with almost haughty decision. “You did it while trying to save me from harm, and the debt is mine. I insist, and I shall be angry if you do not let me refer this matter to my father, who will certainly replace this wheel with the very best bicycle money can procure.”
Dick saw that she was very much in earnest, and it was plain that June was accustomed to have her own way in most things. He was obliged to yield gracefully.
June borrowed a pencil and piece of paper from Dick, after which she noted the answers of the boy in regard to the kind of a wheel he wanted, height of frame, gear, saddle, pedals, and so forth.