Frank Merriwell's Backers; Or, The Pride of His Friends
CHAPTER XXVIII.
BILL HIKES OUT.
"Got it!" whispered File huskily. "He nailed me good and plenty thattime!"
Without a word, fearing Cimarron Bill might discover he had shot thewrong man and seek to rectify his bad work, Frank lifted File in hismuscular arms and ran into a store with him.
The city marshal was stretched on a counter.
"Send for a doctor!" commanded Merry. "And turn out a posse to takeCimarron Bill. He fired the shot."
At the mention of Cimarron Bill, however, consternation reigned. Thedesperado was all too well known in Holbrook, and scarcely a man in allthe place cared to face him.
"No use," said File faintly. "Nobody'll dare touch Bill. He'll get outof town deliberately without being molested."
"Impossible!" exclaimed Merry. "Why, you don't mean to say they will letthat murderous hound escape?"
"He'll escape now that I'm flat. There's not a man in Holbrook thatdares face him."
"You're mistaken!" said Merry. "There is one man!"
"What one?"
"This one!"
"You?"
"Yes."
"Do you mean to say----"
"That I dare face that man! Give me my weapons and I'll go out and gethim!"
Ben File looked at the boyish young man incredulously.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, as they were tryingto stop the bleeding of his wound, which was in his left side. "That manhas a record. He's the deadliest ruffian in Arizona. He would kill you."
"I don't believe it," said Frank. "I've seen his like before. Give me myrevolvers, and I'll go take him. I'll bring him to you if you live!"
File fumbled in his huge pockets and brought out Merry's long-barreledrevolvers.
"Go ahead if you want to," he said. "Somehow I take stock in you, thoughI'm afraid it's your funeral you're going to. Anyhow, if I'm booked tocash in, I don't mind giving you a show to levant. Here comes thedoctor."
The same red-faced little man came rushing into the store, brought thereby a messenger who had gone in search of him.
Frank examined his weapons, and then walked out of the store.
There was considerable excitement on the street, caused by the shooting.Merry minded no one, yet kept his eyes wide open for every one. As fastas he could step he proceeded straight to the open door from whichCimarron Bill had fired the shot. He had a pistol in either hand when hestepped through that doorway.
As he had expected, it was a saloon. Three persons were in the room, butCimarron Bill was not there.
"Gentlemen," said Merry, "I'll be obliged if you will tell me where Ican find the white-livered cur who just shot Ben File from thisdoorway."
They stared at him as if doubting their senses.
"If it's Cimarron Bill you're looking for, young man," one of themfinally said, "take my advice and don't. It's the most onhealthyoccupation you can engage in, and I advise----"
"Cut out the advice," said Merry sharply; "and tell me where thecowardly dog has gone."
"He ambled out o' yere directly arter doin' the shootin', and we lastsees him lopin' down the street that-a-way. But you wants to keep a heaplong distance----"
Frank waited for no more. He was satisfied that Bill had departed justas the man said, and he wheeled at once and started down the street.
Merry knew full well what sort of mission he had undertaken, but he wasnot daunted in the least by its magnitude. Cimarron Bill was his deadlyfoe, but he now saw his opportunity to bring the ruffian to anaccounting for his crimes, and he did not propose to let the chanceslip.
So he inquired as he passed down the street and found that Bill hadhurried to the saloon kept by Schlitzenheimer.
Again Merry had his pistols ready when he entered the saloon. Earlythough it was, he found four men there engaged in a game of draw poker,and one of the four was old Joe Crowfoot.
Schlitzenheimer gave a shout when he saw Frank.
"My gootness!" he cried. "How you vos? Vere vos dot dalking tog alretty?I vouldt like to blay dot tog anodder came beenuckle of."
Frank was disappointed once more in failing to discover Cimarron Bill.He asked if the man had been there.
"He vos," nodded Schlitzenheimer. "Und avay he dit his saddle take."
"He took his saddle?"
"Yah."
"Then his saddle was here?"
"It he dit keep here, vor id vos very valueless," said the Dutchman. "Hevos avraid stolen id would pe. I know Pill. Ven he come und say, 'Vritz,you tookit my saddles und keepit it a vile undil vor id I call,' I say,'Yah, you pet.' I haf nod any anxiety him to make some drouble by."
"If he came for his saddle it is likely he meant to use it. Was he in ahurry?"
"Der piggest hurry I ever knewn him to pe indo. Ven I invortationed himto a drink take, he said he could not sdop vor id."
"He's on the run!" exclaimed Frank. "Where does he keep his horse whenin town?"
"Ad Dorvelt's shust down a liddle vays."
Frank almost ran from the saloon and hurried down the street toDorfelt's stable.
He was stared at in the same wondering amazement when he asked forCimarron Bill.
"Mebbe you has urgent business with that gent?" said one man.
"I have," answered Merry. "He shot Ben File about ten minutes ago, and Iam after him."
"Waal, you'll have to hustle to ketch him, an' I 'lows it's jest as wellfer you. His hoss was saddled jest now, an' I opine he's well out o'town by this time."
Frank listened to hear no more. On the run, he set out to find hisfriends.
Singularly enough, not one of them knew anything of his arrest, althoughthey had heard of the shooting. He found them in short order, and whathe told them in a very few words stirred them from lassitude to thegreatest excitement.
"Fellows," he said, "I'm going to run Cimarron Bill down if it takes ayear! I've given my word to Ben File that I would bring Bill back. Imean to make good. Are you with me in this chase?"
They were with him to a man.