Dick Merriwell's Trap: or, The Chap Who Bungled. Standish Burt L.

Ledge.

      The squirrel in the grove seemed calling to him, the woods seemed to beckon, and even the dull, distant roar of the sea struck a responsive chord in his heart. A sudden desire came upon him to stray deep into the woods and hills and seek to renew the old-time friendship and confidence with nature and the wild things he had once been able to call around him. Then he thought of Fardale, of the football-field, of his friends at school, and, lastly, of – June.

      “No,” he muttered, “I would not give up my new friends for those I used to know. The birds and squirrels know me no longer, but I have found human friends who are dearer.”

      He resumed his whistling and trudged onward with a light heart.

      That afternoon Dick worked earnestly with the scrub on the field, for the weakness of the academy’s line in the recent game with Hudsonville had shown him that injury to one or two players simultaneously might cause Fardale’s defeat unless some remarkably good substitutes were ready at hand to go in. And he had come to realize that first-class substitutes were lacking.

      The injured ones were improving as swiftly as could be expected, but it was certain they would not get into practice until near the end of the week, and Shannock might not be able to go on to the field for another week to come.

      At the opening of the season Fardale had resolved not to play with Franklin Academy for reasons well known on both sides. A year before Franklin had permitted a Fardale man and a traitor to play with its eleven, and the traitor had dashed red pepper into Dick Merriwell’s eyes at a time when it seemed certain that the game would be won by the cadets through young Merriwell’s efforts.

      Brad Buckhart “mingled in” and promptly knocked the pepper-thrower stiff, after which the fellow had been exposed.

      But Franklin’s action in permitting the traitor to play on her team had angered the Fardale athletic committee so that a vote was taken not to meet her on the gridiron again. But the faculty at Franklin took a hand, offered apologies, regrets, and made promises to look after the team in the future. They felt a keen disgrace to have Fardale refuse to meet the Franklin eleven. The result was that the Fardale athletic committee finally withdrew the ban, and a date was arranged with Franklin.

      This was the team Fardale had to meet on the following Saturday after the game with Hudsonville, and to Dick’s ears came a rumor that Franklin had a remarkable eleven that had been winning games in a most alarming manner.

      To add to Dick’s uneasiness came a report that Franklin had hired a professional coach and that there were at least four “ringers” on the team. Dick was not inclined to believe this at first, for it did not seem possible such fellows would be permitted on the eleven after the entreaty and assurance of the Franklin faculty.

      Brad Buckhart resolved to investigate. Without saying a word to Dick, who, he fancied, might object to “spying,” the Texan paid a man to find out the truth. The result was that, one day, he informed Dick there was not the least doubt but the “ringers” were to be with the Franklin team.

      “I can hardly believe it now!” exclaimed Dick, when Buck had explained how he came by his knowledge. “How can they afford to do such a thing?”

      “Well, pard,” said the Westerner, “I hear that they’re hot set to wipe out the disgrace of last year’s defeat, and then they won’t care a rap whether we play with them any more or not. That’s what’s doing over yon at Franklin. I opine we’d better decline to play.”

      “No,” said Dick. “We have no absolute proof that there are ‘ringers’ on their team, although it is likely your man made no mistake. I shall notify their manager at once that I have heard such a report, ask concerning its correctness, and protest against the questionable men being in the game.”

      “And then if they are in it just the same?”

      “We’ll play them,” said Dick grimly, “and beat them. After that we can decline to have any further athletic dealings with them.”

      “Partner, you’re right!” exclaimed the Texan. “The only thing I fear is that our team may not be up to its usual form. If it is, we can down ’em, ‘ringers’ or no ‘ringers.’”

      No reply came to Dick’s note of protest until Friday, before the game was to come off. Then the manager answered briefly that all the men on his team were amateurs and were taking regular courses at Franklin Academy.

      “That settles it,” said Dick. “I’d play him now if I had proof that he had ‘ringers’ on his team. Then I’d relieve my mind after the game.”

      CHAPTER VII – SOMETHING WRONG

      Dick knew Mrs. Arlington had arrived in Fardale, and after her arrival he waited in daily expectancy of hearing something from June. He learned that the injury to Chester Arlington was so serious that he might be confined to his bed for two or three weeks. And he also found out that Hal Darrell visited the hotel daily.

      Ostensibly Hal went to see Chester, but Dick felt that the real reason of his going was to see June. And Dick was startled to feel a sensation of keen jealousy in his heart. He tried bravely to put it aside, telling himself that June was his friend and nothing more; but it was obstinate and declined to be crushed in such a manner, not a little to his annoyance.

      On Saturday morning Dick received a brief note from June, and it fairly staggered him. This was what she said:

      “Mr. Richard Merriwell: Kindly return my locket at once by the messenger who brings you this. I insist on it, and you will do so if you are a gentleman. —

June Arlington.”

      A second time had this happened. Once before June had sent for her locket and Dick had returned it as requested. Then, when he sought to call for an explanation, he was snubbed at the door. He puzzled over this second note, being astonished by it. For had not June urged him to promise not to give up the locket on any condition?

      “Is she so changeable?” he muttered, in great disappointment. “I could not have thought it of her! She doesn’t seem that way.”

      He could not express his feeling of disappointment at June. She had seemed like an unusually sensible girl, who would not whiffle round with every shifting wind.

      He understood that, without doubt, strong pressure had been brought to bear on June by her mother and brother. She had been commanded to send again for her locket. Chester Arlington was determined that Dick should not keep it, and he would rejoice if it were sent back to his sister.

      But had June been influenced so that she really wished the locket returned? Rather had she not been compelled to write the request while she did not wish Dick to comply with it?

      He started at this thought, and, of a sudden, he found a way to excuse June. She could not refuse to obey the command of her mother, and she had written for the locket because Mrs. Arlington commanded it. That was the explanation. The messenger was waiting outside the door. Dick turned, walked to the door, and said:

      “There is no answer.”

      “But the lady what give me the note said there would be one,” declared the boy. “She said I was to bring back somethin’ you’d give me.”

      “Did she?”

      “Yep. An’ said I was to be careful not to lose it.”

      “What sort of a lady gave you this note?”

      “Oh, she was pritty swell, you bet! She wore good togs, but she had gray hair, and she looked me over through a glass with a handle what she held up to her eye, and she says, says she, ‘Boy, are you honest?’ and I says, ‘I am, though I know I’ll never grow up to be a great politician or a millionaire if I stay so.’ She didn’t seem to like that much, but she finally give me the paper what I brought to you, sayin’ as how I was to bring back the thing what you would give me.”

      “Well, there is nothing for you to take back,” said Dick. “But here is a quarter for you. Just say to the lady that the article is so precious that I will bring it in person, as I dare not trust it out of my hands.”

      “All