CHAPTER XIX.
BART HODGE MAKES A CONFESSION.
It was Bart Hodge!
How they did shake hands! Strangely enough, neither of them laughed,but there was a look of joy on their faces that told of satisfactionand delight too great for laughter.
"Merriwell, old man," said Hodge, his voice unsteady with emotion, "Ican scarcely believe it is true! It seems too good to be true!"
"Hodge!" exclaimed Frank, "there is fate in this. I was speaking ofyou not more than ten minutes ago."
"Speaking of me?"
"Sure."
"Then you had not forgotten me?"
"Forgotten you?" came reproachfully from Frank--"you should know I amnot the kind of fellow to forget my friends."
"That's right," nodded Bart, quickly; "you always did stick to yourfriends through thick and thin."
"Yes, through thick and thin, old chum."
"But it is most astonishing to see you away out here in this part ofthe country. Where did you drop from?"
"Oh, we are on a little run across the country," smiled Merry. "Westarted from New York, and we're bound for San Francisco. Permit me tointroduce my friends."
Then he presented the others of the party in turn, and Bart shookhands with them all, expressing his satisfaction at meeting them, butseeming rather reserved and uneasy. Frank observed that Hodge turnedhis head to glance down the road now and then as if expecting theappearance of some one or something.
"So you're Hart Bodge--I mean Bart Hodge?" said Harry, as he wasintroduced. "Well, I'm glad to know you. Merry has talked about youever since I first met him at Yale. He has told everything about you."
"If that is true, I'm afraid you have not formed a very good opinionof me," said Hodge, somewhat gloomily.
"On the contrary, I have formed a very good opinion of you," assuredRattleton.
"Then it can't be Merry has told you everything."
Frank was not a little surprised by Bart's manner, for Hodge had beena fellow who could not easily suppress his self-conceit, and it hadalways been his desire to impress strangers with the idea that he wassomething quite out of the ordinary.
A vague feeling that something was wrong with Bart seized uponMerriwell.
"You're not well, old man," he said. "I know it. Don't say you are."
"Never was better in all my life."
"But something is the trouble--I can see that."
"Oh, no!" assured Bart; "you are mistaken, I assure you."
But, for all of these words, Frank was not satisfied, as Bart's mannerhad plainly betrayed the fact that he was trying to conceal something.
"Which way are you traveling?" Frank asked.
"East."
"Too bad! We are going the other way, and I hoped you'd go along."
"Oh, no! it is impossible," Hodge quickly asserted.
"Business important?"
"Well, it is--er--somewhat so."
"Where are you from last?"
"Oh, I've been traveling--yes, traveling," answered Bart, vaguely.
"Now, look here!" cried Merry, decisively; "you've got to travel withus, old man. I won't take no for an answer, for I believe you can doit. You'll turn about and go to San Francisco with us."
"That's right; come on," cried the others.
Bart shook his head.
"Can't do it--I can't. You don't know--I can't explain--now."
"Do you think this is using me just right?" asked Frank,reproachfully. "You'll find us a jolly crowd, and we'll have deadloads of sport. We've made a quick run across, and we can take ourtime going back. None of the fellows are obliged to hurry home. Comealong with us, Bart, and we'll do you good."
Something like a smile flitted over Hodge's serious face.
"You are the same old Merriwell," he said. "It has done me good to seeyou a little while, Frank."
"It will do you more good to see me longer, and it'll do me good tohave you come with me. Come along."
Bart wavered. It was plain enough that he longed to go, but, for somereason, he hesitated.
Frank passed an arm about Hodge's shoulders, saying, gently butfirmly:
"You've got to do it; you can't get out of it, old chum."
A wave of feeling fled across Hodge's face, and there was somethinglike a suspicious quiver of his sensitive chin.
"You do not understand," he slowly murmured. "I'd like to have a talkwith you, Frank. I--I might tell you----"
"That's right," said Harry, heartily. "Old friends like you chaps wanta chance to talk over old matters and things. Excuse us. We're goingto find a chance to stretch our weary limbs on the ground. Browninghas an attack of that tired feeling, and he will fall asleep in histracks if he doesn't recline without delay."
"Huah!" grunted Bruce.
Then the boys withdrew, leaving Hodge and Merriwell together.
Bart seemed embarrassed and uneasy. He glanced at Frank slyly, as ifin doubt, which Merry did not fail to note, although pretending not toobserve it.
They sat down near the foot of a monster tree, against which theycould lean in a comfortable position as they chatted. The great forestof redwood trees was all about them, and a Sabbath peace brooded overthe gentle slope of the Sierras.
"Well, Bart," said Frank, insinuatingly, "I trust things are goingwell with you?"
A sudden change came over Hodge. A fierce look of rage came to hisface and his eyes blazed, while his voice was harsh and unpleasant, ashe cried:
"Things are not going well with me! Everything has gone wrong! Oh,I've had infernal luck! I know I was born under an unlucky star, andthe only time I ever did get along was when you and I were together atFardale."
"Then stick by me, and change your luck again."
"I'd like to do it, but you are going the wrong way."
"What's the odds? There is no reason why you should not turn backand----"
"There is a reason."
"Of course I do not know about that, but----"
"Listen, Frank; you remember Isa Isban?"
"Yes, and Vida Milburn, Isa's half-sister, with whom you were in love.I distinctly remember that Vida was a beautiful and charming girl."
Hodge's teeth ground together with a nerve-tingling, grating sound,and his face was set as stone, although his eyes still blazed.
"Yes, a beautiful girl--a charming girl!" he admitted, but withsarcasm that could not be mistaken.
"What's the matter? Where is Vida now?"
"I don't know, and I don't care a rap!"
"Oh, say! I think I tumble. It is a case of lovers' quarrel. Now, now,now! Don't be foolish, my boy! It will come out all right. You knowtrue love persistently refuses to run smooth. You'll make it all up intime."
Hodge grinned, but there was nothing of mirth in the expression. Itseemed to Frank as if some wild animal had shown its teeth.
"Oh, yes, it will come out all right!" he sneered. "We'll make it allup in time! It's too late, Merriwell."
"You think so, that's all."
"I know so. She's married!"
Frank gasped.
"Married?"
"Yes."
"Married? Why, she is a mere girl! And you--where do you come in?"
"I'm not in it, and I think I'm lucky. That's not worrying me."
"But how--how did it happen? Why did you throw her over? or why didshe go back on you?"
"I'm not going to tell the whole story now, Frank; but the fact isthat she lacked faith in me. I rather think I'm dead lucky to get outof it, for she was rather weak and fickle. You know her half-sister,Isa Isban, although stunningly handsome, is wild and reckless. She wasmarried to a gambler and maker of crooked money."
"But he is dead--was shot, and Isa disappeared."
"Well, she has reappeared, but I'll tell you about that later. It'sVida I wish to tell you about now. You know Vida's old uncle and auntnever did have a high opinion of me."
"Not till they discovered that you were a brave and honorable fellow.Then they seemed to turn
about and think you one of the finest chapsin the world."
"They got over it," Hodge sneered. "They came to think me anything butbrave and honorable. They believed me a drunkard, a gambler and athief!"
Frank was shocked, and he showed it.
"Impossible!" he cried. "How could they think such a thing of you?They had no reason to think so!"
Bart turned crimson till it extended all over his face and neck.
"You don't know, Merry," he muttered, positively showing shame. "I'mnot like you--I make a bad break sometimes. It is hard for me toresist temptation, and--well, I was tempted, and I succumbed. That'sall."
"Succumbed? What do you mean? I know your heart is right, old fellow,and you did not do anything wrong intentionally."
"Appearances were against me--I confess it. First--well, I was seendrunk. That is, I seemed to be drunk, but I swear to you that I hadnot taken but one drink, and that was not enough to knock out aten-year-old boy. It was drugged, Frank--I know it!"
"Drugged? Who did such a villainous trick?"
"My enemy--a young fellow who loved Vida. He has a father who's gotthe rocks. He's older than I, and I thought him my friend. I met himat her home. His name is Hart Davis."
"The whelp! But did Vida see you?"
"Yes. I had been out with Davis that night. In the morning I was foundon the steps of Vida's home, apparently dead drunk."
"How came you there?"
"I didn't know at the time. Since then--well, it is settled in mymind. Davis said I left him to go to the place where I was boarding inCarson City. He said I seemed to be all right when I left him, and sohe let me go. He appeared very shocked to think such a misfortune hadhappened me: but--burn him!--I believe he gave me knock-out drops--Ibelieve he carried me to that house--I believe he left me on thesteps, where I was found!"
Frank's eyes were blazing now, and the look on his expressive facetold how he felt toward Mr. Hart Davis.
"And did Vida throw you over for that?" he asked, in an indignantmanner.
"Not entirely for that. She was very shocked and cold toward me, butwhen I was arrested----"
"Arrested?" gasped Frank. "Arrested for what?"
"For stealing a watch."