Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's First Job; Or, At the Foot of the Ladder - Burt L. Standish - Страница 7
CHAPTER V.
THE MAN WHO WORKED THE WIRES.
ОглавлениеAll through the weary night Frank watched at the bedside of the professor, scarcely closing his eyes to sleep for a moment. When the gray light of morning came the sick man lay in a doze, for the medicine had taken effect at last.
Then Frank was relieved by Toots, and he sought rest.
The doctor sent an experienced nurse, who arrived by nine o’clock that forenoon. The doctor himself came shortly after, and Frank, who had been unable to sleep long, had a talk with him after he had seen the professor.
The doctor was very grave.
“The strain upon the man has been severe,” he said. “He may come round all right in a day or two. I hope to avert brain fever.”
“Do everything you can for him, doctor,” Merry urged. “You shall be well paid, for there must be still something left to pay bills with.”
The physician looked at Frank in a strange manner.
“This man has squandered your fortune?”
“No; he simply misapplied it.”
“And you hold no hard feelings against him?”
“No; I am sure he thought he was doing what was for the best. I pity him.”
“You are a strange young man.”
“Why so?”
“Few persons in your place would care to see him live, unless it were to punish him.”
“What good would it do me to punish him? That would not bring my money back, and it would give me no satisfaction. I think he is being punished now.”
“You are generous.”
“I fail to see the generosity. A person who could wish to harm that poor, old man would be cruel.”
“They say Darius Conrad led him into the first speculations. Have you no feelings against him?”
“Yes! He is the one who should be punished; but he is rich and powerful, and I am poor now. How can I reach him? His money would save him, as it has saved him from his other victims; but he will not always triumph. The mills of the gods grind slowly, but his turn will come!”
Frank’s eyes were flashing now, and his face showed the fire that was burning deep within his soul. Looking at him, the doctor suddenly awoke to the fact that there was something besides forgiveness in his nature. Frank would not forget the real cause of his ruin.
“Be careful, young man,” he warned. “If you seek revenge on him, you will find he is powerful, and he will crush you.”
Frank smiled grimly.
“I shall wait my time,” he said. “It will come, something tells me that. It may not be for years, but it will come.”
“What do you intend to do now that your fortune is gone?”
“Work.”
“At what?”
“I do not know yet. At something—anything.”
“But you are not accustomed to work; you were not brought up to work.”
“The time has come for me to get accustomed to it. I have played, and now I will work.”
“Don’t you dread it?”
“Dread it? No! I welcome it! When I leave Bloomfield it will be to go out into the world and seek honest work of some kind.”
“But you do not expect to become a common day laborer?”
“I expect to become what I must. It is an old saying that beggars must not be choosers.”
“But think of the disgrace of it!”
Frank drew himself up with dignity.
“The disgrace, doctor? There is no disgrace in honest toil. I shall not fear it.”
“Your hand, young man!” cried the physician. “You will get on in the world, I am sure of that. You have the right spirit, and you will make a success in life.”
“Thank you, sir; I hope you are right. I shall do my best.”
“And that will be good enough. I wish you the best of luck, which you will deserve.”
And the physician left the house thinking that the calamity that had befallen Frank Merriwell was not nearly as severe as he had at first imagined.
Frank ate a good breakfast, served by Toots, and then he went up and saw the professor. Scotch awoke, but turned his face away, with a weary sigh, and did not look at Frank again.
There was business ahead of Merry, for it was necessary to learn just how his affairs stood. He obtained the keys to the professor’s desk, and to the little safe, and spent the forenoon in rummaging among private papers and examining documents, but he could find very little to satisfy him.
After dinner he visited the lawyer who had done much of the business for the estate. Two hours spent with the lawyer convinced Frank that he would be fortunate to find a dollar that he could call his own when everything was settled. Indeed, it looked as if he would be forced to sell the old place in order to square all claims against him.
The lawyer attempted to condole with him, but Frank cut him short with the declaration that, although he appreciated the motive, he was not in need of sympathy. He left the office with a firm step, his head erect, his manner betraying no despondency.
And just outside the door he met Darius Conrad.
“Ah, Mr. Merriwell,” said the rascal, with an oily smile that was followed immediately by a look of pretended sorrow; “this is a most unfortunate affair. I assure you that you have my heartfelt sympathy in your misfortune.”
Frank stopped and surveyed the man from his head to his feet, and the look on his face was crushing. Darius Conrad seemed to wither before it, and he rubbed his hands together in a nervous manner.
“Mr. Conrad,” said Merry, very slowly, “it is unnecessary for you to play the hypocrite with me.”
“Eh? What do you mean, sir?”
“Just what I say. I know you for just what you are, and that is an unprincipled scoundrel!”
“Be careful! be careful!” blustered the man, growing red in the face and making a threatening gesture. “I will not endure such insolence from you!”
“I am glad of this opportunity to tell you just what I think of you,” said Frank, grimly. “If I had not met you here by accident, I should have sought you. You lured my guardian into your robber scheme, and you fleeced him easily, as you have many other men; but the time will come when you will overstep the bounds, and the hand of the law will reach you.”
“You have no right to make such statements! Horace Scotch was eager to invest money in the Golden Peaks Mining and Smelting Company. I did not lure him into doing so, and I will not be accused of it. He did ask my advice, and I gave it. I believed the concern solid and all right. I was mistaken, that is all.”
“It is known that the whole business was a fake, and you were one of the chief movers in it. The greater portion of the money you obtained through Horace Scotch went into your own pocket. It is not the first time you have been implicated in fraudulent concerns. Once you were a poor man; now you are rich. You have made your money by fraud and crime!”
“I will have you arrested for using such language. It is criminal libel!”
“You are at liberty to have me arrested, but you will not dare, for you know I might be able to put you in a very bad box. I do not fear you.”
“It is scandalous—scandalous! Why, I really sympathized with you. I thought you would appreciate it.”
“Sympathy from you? Now, I shall despise you even more than I did before!”
Dyke Conrad came up hastily at this moment.
“What is he saying to you, governor?” he asked, glaring at Frank. “Is he using insulting language? If he is, I will slap his face!”
Frank smiled.
“I wish you would do that,” he said, almost entreatingly. “I’d very much enjoy the privilege of knocking you down.”
Dyke hesitated. Something told him it would be very rash for him to attempt to slap Frank, so he said:
“Come away, governor. Don’t talk to the low fellow!”
And he led his father away.