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

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know it!” said Sam, with the utmost confidence. “That girl’s all right, and I’d bet my life she’d have the wheel sent to me! Then won’t Spike feel sick!”

      CHAPTER V – DICK KEEPS THE LOCKET

      Up one flight in the hotel was a window in the hall at the front of the house. Dick and June passed by this window, which, although closed, did not prevent them from hearing the words of the boys below, and June laughed when Sammy declared he would soak Spike Hanlon in the mouth if Spike said anything more about her.

      “That’s the kind of champion to have!” exclaimed Dick.

      “They are going to fight!” exclaimed June. “That freckled boy is big and strong.”

      “But I’ll bet anything Sammy does him if they come to a genuine scrap,” said Dick. “But don’t worry; there’ll be no fight. The most of the boys are on Sammy’s side, and the other fellow doesn’t want to mix in.”

      They heard Spike’s taunts just before he retreated, and June muttered:

      “Just you wait and see what kind of a wheel he’ll have! I’ll make father buy him the very best in the market.”

      “Then that other boy will turn green with jealousy,” laughed Dick. “It will be a great triumph for Sammy.”

      “He deserves it.”

      “I agree with you. He is a most remarkable fellow, and I like him. Evidently he’s a poor boy. But he didn’t whimper when his wheel was smashed, and that is why I say he is remarkable. Most boys would have put up a terrible outcry over it.”

      “It is strange that my brother should have been hurt so badly just from falling backward out of the carriage when the horse started,” said June.

      “Is it a fact that he is badly hurt?” asked Dick.

      “I fear so. The doctor told me that, at least, we had not better think of returning to Fardale before to-morrow. He said he would be able to say positively to-morrow whether Chester is badly hurt or not. He is coming back with another doctor in a short time, and they will make a more complete examination.”

      “For your sake,” said Dick sincerely, “I am very sorry that your brother was hurt.”

      Dick spoke with perfect truthfulness, and she understood him. It is not likely that he would have felt keen regret on Chester’s account alone, but his interest in June made it possible for him to be sorry, as the affair had caused her distress.

      She thanked him, but she did not misinterpret his words in the least. She understood that her brother and Dick Merriwell were persistent and unrelenting enemies.

      “I was so glad to see you win the game to-day,” she said, seeming to wish to change the subject.

      “Yes, the boys did splendidly.”

      “They did very well, but you – you were the one who really won the game.”

      “In football every man is dependent on the others engaged in the game. Without their assistance he would be powerless to win.”

      “Oh, if you put it that way, of course no fellow could stand up alone against eleven others and win a game. But that does not alter the fact that you were the one who won the game to-day. And I thought you badly hurt that time when I – when I made a sensation by running on to the field,” she finished, her face getting very red.

      She was confused, and Dick’s heart beat a bit faster now. But she quickly found a way to make it appear that it was not purely from agitation over Dick that she hurried on to the gridiron.

      “I was so afraid that meant failure for the team! When I saw you down and feared you would have to leave the field, I knew Fardale was in a bad scrape. Without a captain, she would have been defeated quickly.”

      Dick knew well enough that it was more than fear for the result of the game that had caused her to rush pale and trembling across the field and kneel to lift his head while he lay helpless on the ground; but he pretended disappointment now, seeking to draw her out.

      “I’m very sorry,” he said, watching her closely; “I fancied you were anxious on my account. I presume it was conceited of me to have such a thought.”

      She looked him straight in the eyes.

      “Doubtless my conduct was such that it gave you cause to think so,” she nodded, perfectly at ease.

      “Your conduct – and your words,” he returned.

      She remembered with some dismay that she had been greatly excited as she lifted his head and knelt on the ground. She could not recall the words she had uttered at the time, but she knew she had called him “Dick,” and she entreated the doctor to tell her he was not badly hurt. Still June retained her self-possession, although she did not repress an added bit of color that again rose to her cheeks.

      “I believe you were shamming, sir!” she asserted, severely. “You seemed almost unconscious, yet you pretend that you heard what I said. I think you dreamed that you heard it.”

      “Well, it was a very pleasant dream, and it quite repaid me for the jar I received in that little clash.”

      She could not resist his subtle compliment, and, in spite of her self-control, she felt her pulse thrill a little. Although a girl of sixteen and usually most reserved, she was open to flattery in its finest form, as most girls are.

      Dick, however, was no flatterer, and he spoke what he felt to be the simple truth and nothing more. It is possible that his sincerity impressed her.

      “My locket – ” she began.

      “Oh, I hope you are not going to command me to return it to you again!” he exclaimed.

      “No.”

      “I am thankful for that. I gave it up once, thinking you would be generous enough to hear what I had to say; but you refused to see me or to permit me to explain – ”

      “Which was very unjust of me,” she frankly admitted. “I was sorry when it was too late, but you did not come again.”

      “Because I did not care to receive another snub.”

      “Will you pardon me?”

      “Surely I will, now that I have the locket again. But I do not wish you to believe that I ever dropped that locket intentionally with the desire of having it become known that you had given it to me. I did not think you could believe such a thing of me.”

      There was reproach in Dick’s words, and she felt it.

      “My brother made it seem that you did,” she hastened to say; “and – and – another would not deny it.”

      “Another?” exclaimed Dick. “I know who it was! It was Hal Darrell!”

      “I have not said so.”

      “But you cannot say it was not Darrell?”

      “I will not say it wasn’t or that it was.”

      “We were enemies

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