Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Alarm: or, Doing His Best - Standish Burt L. - Страница 6

CHAPTER VI. – TRICK RIDING

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The Indians made room for Frank to mount and ride.

Standing beside the wheel Frank sprang into the saddle without using the step, caught the pedals and started.

The savages gave utterance to a grunt of wonder and admiration.

Frank had practiced trick riding, and he now proposed to exhibit his skill, feeling that it might be a good scheme to astonish the savages.

He started the bicycle into a circle, round which he rode with the greatest ease, and then of a sudden he passed one leg over the frame, and stood up on one of the pedals, which he kept in motion at the same time.

The Indians nodded and looked pleased.

Then Frank began to step cross-legged from pedal to pedal, passing his feet over the cross bar of the frame and keeping the wheel in motion all the time.

A moment later he whirled about, and with his face toward the rear, continued to pedal the bicycle ahead the same as if he had been seated in the usual manner on the saddle.

“Heap good!” observed Black Feather.

Then, like a cat Merriwell wheeled about, lifted his feet over the handlebars to which he clung, slipped down till he hung over the forward wheel, placed his feet on the pedals, and rode in that manner. This made it look as though he were dragging the bicycle along behind him.

There was a stir among the Indians, and they looked at each other.

Without stopping the bicycle, Frank swung back over the handlebars to the saddle. Having reached this position, he stopped suddenly, turning the forward wheel at an angle, sitting there and gracefully balancing on the stationary machine.

“Heap much good!” declared Black Feather, growing enthusiastic.

“Oh, those little things are dead easy,” assured Frank, with a laugh. “Do you really desire to see me do something that is worth doing?”

“What more white boy can do?”

“Several things, but I’ll have to make a larger circle.”

It was growing dark swiftly now, the sun being down and the shadows of the mountains lying dark and gloomy in the valleys.

“Go ’head,” directed Black Feather.

Frank started the bicycle in motion, and then, with it going at good speed, he swung down on one side and slowly but neatly crept through the frame, coming up on the other side and regaining the saddle without stopping.

“Paleface boy great medicine!” said Black Feather.

“Ugh!” grunted all the Indians but Blue Wolf.

The little savage was looking on in a sullen, wondering way, astonished and angered to think the white boy could do all those things, while he had been unable to mount the two-wheeled horse.

“How do you like that, Black Feather?” asked Frank, cheerfully.

“Much big!” confessed the chief. “Do some more.”

“All right. Catch onto this.”

Then away Frank sped, lifting the forward wheel from the ground and letting it hang suspended in the air, while he rode along on the rear wheel.

“Merry is working hard enough,” said Rattleton. “I never knew he could do so many tricks.”

“There are lots of things about that fellow that none of us know anything about,” asserted Browning, who was no less surprised, although he did not show it.

“He is a fool to work so hard to please these wretched savages!” muttered Diamond.

“Now, don’t you take Frank Merriwell for a fool in anything!” came swiftly from Harry. “I never knew him to make a fool of himself in all my life, and I have seen a good deal of him.”

“Well, why is he cutting up all those monkey tricks? What will it amount to when it is all over?”

“Wait and see.”

“The Indians will treat us just the same as if he had not done those things.”

“Perhaps so.”

“Of course they will!”

“Now, Black Feather, old jiblets,” cried Frank, in his merriest manner, “I am going to do something else. Get onto this.”

Sending the bicycle along at high speed Frank lay over the handlebars and swung his feet into the air till he held himself suspended in that manner, head down and feet up.

The Indians were more pleased and astonished than ever.

“Oh, it’s all in knowing how!” laughed Frank, as he gracefully and lightly dropped back to the saddle.

Again the Indians grunted.

“Now, Black Feather, old chappie,” said Frank, “I am going to do the greatest trick of all. I’ll have to get a big start and have lots of room. Watch me close.”

Away he went, bending over the handlebars and sending the bicycle flying over the ground. He acted as if he intended to make a big circle, but suddenly turned and rode straight toward the pass by which they had entered the basin. Before the Indians could realize his intention, he was almost out of sight in the darkness of the young night.

Howls of rage and dismay broke from the redmen. They shouted after the boy, but he kept right on, quickly disappearing from view.

“There,” sighed Browning, with satisfaction, “I told you he was not doing all that work for nothing, fellows.”

“He’s done gone an’ lef us!” wailed Toots.

“That’s what he has!” grated Diamond – “left us to the mercy of these miserable redskins! That’s a fine trick!”

“Oh, will you ever get over it?” rasped Rattleton. “Why shouldn’t he? He had his chance, and he’d been a fool not to skin out!”

“I thought he would stand by us in such a scrape as this.”

“What you thought doesn’t cut any ice. He’ll come back.”

“After we are murdered.”

Rattleton would have said something more, but the Indians, who had been holding an excited conversation, suddenly grasped the four remaining lads in a threatening manner.

“Oh, mah goodness!” palpitated Toots. “Heah is whar I’s gwan teh lose mah wool! It am feelin’ po’erful loose already!”

Browning was on the point of launching out with his heavy fists and making as good battle of it as he could when he heard Black Feather say:

“No hurt white boys. Make um keep still, so um not run ’way off like odder white boy. That am all.”

“I’ll take chances on it,” muttered Bruce, giving up quietly.

The four lads were forced to sit on the ground, and some of the savages squatted near. The fire was replenished, and the Indians seemed to hold a council.

“Deciding how they will kill us,” said Diamond, gloomily.

“Nothing of the sort,” declared Rattleton. “See them making motions toward the bicycles. They are talking about the wonderful two-wheeled horses.”

Frank Merriwell's Alarm: or, Doing His Best

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