Burt Standish - Frank Merriwell's Athletes - or, The Boys Who Won

At length the streets were less obstructed, and the driver made greater speed. He wielded the whip mercilessly.

“This is fun aloive,” gasped Barney. “Oi’ll not hiv’ a whole bone in me body whin Oi git there.”

Frank said nothing, but looked at his watch, after which he nodded in a satisfied manner.

“Is it fast enough fer yez – we are going – Frankie?” asked Barney, with a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“If it is only two miles to North Beach we will get there in less than fifteen minutes,” said Frank.

“But it’s did we may be whin we arroive, me b’y.”

Crack! crack! crack! sounded the driver’s whip, each snap being like the report of a pistol. Clatter! clatter! co-lat-ter! sounded the hoofs of the galloping horses.

“Oi’ve played football a little in me loife,” said Barney, as he picked himself up from the bottom of the cab, only to be thrown down again with greater violence, “but Oi’ll admit this takes th’ cake. Football is not in it, at all, at all.”

Still Frank was silent. Now he held his watch in his hand his eyes fastened upon it. Montgomery Avenue was reached, and they turned into it.

At the corner of the next street they nearly ran down another carriage. By a sharp turn to the right, the driver whirled alongside of the cab into which he had nearly crashed.

Looking from the window, Frank gazed directly into the window of the other cab.

A cry escaped his lips:

“Inza – there she is!”

There was an answering cry, and the face of a beautiful girl appeared at the window of the other cab.

“Frank!” she almost screamed. “Frank, is it you?”

Then a pair of hands grasped her, and pulled her back from view.

But Frank had seen enough, and now his very heart was on fire with excitement. Inza – he had found her.

Both Frank and Barney saw that a struggle was going on in the other cab. They could hear Inza crying for some one to let her go, and the sound of her voice made Frank more desperate than ever.

“The scoundrel!” he panted, trying to tear open the door and spring out. “I’d like to choke the breath of life out of him! If he harms her, I will.”

“Thot’s roight, me b’y!” shouted Barney. “We’ll give it to th’ spalpeen!”

Then the driver of the other cab whipped up his horses, and away they dashed getting in ahead of the one carrying Frank and Barney.

“They are making for the harbor!” grated Frank. “That is how it happens we came upon them.”

“Roight again, as ye always are,” agreed Barney.

Frank thrust his head out of the window and shouted to the driver.

“After them! after them! Don’t let them get away, on your life!”

“After who?” asked the driver.

“That cab!” flashed back Frank. “Are you dazed or drunk? Whip up, man – whip up!”

“They didn’t do nothing,” declared the driver. “It was me who came near running into them.”

“Hang it!” burst from Merriwell. “I don’t care about that! I want you to follow them!”

“What for?” asked the driver.

“Because I tell you to, you stupid blockhead!” Frank almost roared. “It will be worth ten dollars to you if you keep them in sight.”

“I will do it or kill my horses!” declared the man.

The other cab had obtained quite a start while Frank was urging the driver to start in pursuit.

“It’s a hot toime we’re in fer, me b’y,” said Barney.

“It’s a hot chase I propose to give them,” came determinedly from Merriwell’s lips. “Fortune has favored us, and now we must not let them get away.”

“Pwhat do yez mane to do afther ye catch thim?”

“Don’t know now. I’ll be able to tell better when we catch them.”

“It’s Inza’s father thot’s in th’ cab.”

“It was not her father that pulled her back from view.”

“Whoy?”

“Because he has not the strength to handle her with such ease. The last time I saw him he was a weak and broken old man.”

“It’s betther he is now, Frankie. Thravel sames to hiv’ done th’ ould duck good, so it does.”

“It is probable that both her father and Lord Stanford are in that cab.”

“An’ it’s not yesilf thot will think av throying to take th’ girrul away from her fayther, is it?”

“I don’t know,” said Frank, his face hard and stern. “In this free country fathers who try to force their daughters into odious marriages are not popular, and, should I be arrested for interfering, it is almost certain I would have the sympathy of the public.”

He looked out of the window and urged the driver not to lose sight of the other cab if he had to kill his horses in pursuing.

“Kill both your horses if necessary!” he cried. “I can pay for them! Remember it is ten dollars anyway if you keep them in sight.”

“They’ll not lose me,” declared the driver, shouting to make his voice heard above the rattling rumble of wheels.

At the very next corner the cab in advance swung sharply around into Beach Street, and now they were in sight of the bay that was but a few blocks away.

The driver of the pursuing cab attempted to make a sharp turn at the corner, but he did not do it skillfully, and a catastrophe occurred.

Over went the cab!

Crash – smash!

The driver was flung to the ground, and Frank was shot out through a window.

By the rarest kind of luck Frank was not injured severely, and he quickly leaped to his feet.

The frightened horses were plunging and rearing, but the driver had clung to the reins, and was holding them from running away.

Frank wondered if Barney had been hurt, but there was no time for him to stop there, if he meant to keep the other cab in sight.

Frank was a sprinter, and he started after the cab at a run.

Two men tried to stop him, thinking he must have caused the smash and was running away to escape arrest.

“Hold on!” they shouted, grabbing at him.

“Hands off!” he flung back, dodging them.

A policeman appeared at the opposite corner and yelled across the street for the running lad to stop.

Frank did not heed the command.

Seeing the driver struggling with his frantic horses the officer hastened to his aid, letting Frank go.

Round to the left the cab turned at the next corner.

Frank saw a head thrust out of a window, and he knew one of the occupants was looking back.

Round the corner darted Frank.

Out upon a long pier the cab was being driven.

Setting his teeth the pursuer made a last great burst of speed, and went racing out upon the pier.

The cab stopped, and a young, red-faced man flung open the door and sprang out. Then he reached back and pulled the girl out after him.

A short distance from the pier a handsome white yacht lay at anchor. At the foot of the stone steps that ran down to a small floating landing lay a rowboat. In the boat was a sailor in yachting costume, while another sailor stood on the pier, as if he had been waiting for the appearance of some one.

“Here, Bush!” cried the man who had pulled the girl from the cab; “take her – hold her! I must have it out with this blooming young idiot who is coming.”

“Drop that girl!” cried Merriwell, with one hand outflung, as he came straight on.

Inza’s father was slowly getting from the cab, shaking with excitement, his face being very pale.

Lord Stanford tried to hand the girl over to the sailor, but at this juncture Inza showed her spirit:

“Don’t touch me – don’t you dare!” she cried to the sailor, her eyes flashing at him in a manner that made him hesitate.

Then she broke from all detaining hands and ran toward Frank, who met her and placed an arm about her shoulders.