Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: Frank Merriwell's Own Company; Or Barnstorming in the Middle West by Standish Burt L
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page
Ebook has 2372 lines and 58248 words, and 48 pages
"He's dying!"
Merry did not utter the words aloud. Quickly, with light steps, he approached the bed.
"Young man," said that weary voice, "bend down--sit beside me."
Merry took the chair at the bedside, the doctor stepping back, but remaining near and watching the sinking man intently.
The pallor on Zolverein's face became even more marked, as if his few words had cost him too great an effort. His eyes left Merriwell and found the doctor.
"Brandy!" he whispered, pleadingly. "Something to give me a few minutes more of life!"
The doctor hastily mixed something in a glass and held it to the dying man's lips. The small quantity Zolverein was able to swallow seemed to bring a bit of brightness to his dimming eyes.
"There," he whispered, "that will do it."
The doctor straightened up, but not till he had breathed in Frank's ear:
"If there is anything you wish to hear from him, make haste. He has not many seconds more."
"Young man," said the dying magician, "you did me a turn to-day--you saved me from being mangled beneath the train. It would have made but a few hours' difference, but I prefer to die here in bed. You grabbed me and held me up at the risk of being drawn down yourself. It--was--a--brave--act."
He stopped, gasping painfully.
"If you have anything in particular to say, do not talk of other things now," warned the doctor.
"All right," murmured the magician. "I understand what you mean. The end is near. I'm ready to go."
Again he looked at Frank.
His voice died in a gasping rattle, his breast heaved once and was still, his eyes were set, and the end had come.
Zolverein, the magician, had solved the great mystery.
FRANK'S OPPORTUNITY.
It was Frank who carried the report of the magician's death to Thaddeus Burnham.
The manager looked disgusted.
"Why couldn't the fellow have waited till to-morrow!" he exclaimed. "Got the best house of the year. People will be terribly disappointed. It's so much cold cash out of my pocket."
"Death is something that cannot be postponed," said Frank. "When a man's time comes, he has to go."
"Let me take his place."
"You?"
Burnham stared. Then he grinned in a sickly manner.
"What sort of a joke are you cracking?" he asked, harshly.
"No joke," assured Frank. "I am in earnest. I'd like to take his place."
"You can't."
"Why not?"
"Why, you're no magician."
"How do you know?"
"Bow-wow-wow!" barked a dog in the box office, and the ticket seller gave a great jump and scrambled onto his stool, drawing up his feet and looking down for the dog.
"Me-e-e-e-ow!"
A cat seemed to utter a wild yowl, following which the dog barked again, and then a terrible clamor of sounds came from the ticket office, as if the dog and cat were engaged in a fearful combat.
He stopped and stared.
"Where are they?" he asked, bewildered.
"You tell!" burst from the ticket seller. "Thought they were right here under my feet."
The sounds had ceased.
Frank was standing behind Burnham, looking in at the door and laughing.
"Why don't you drive them out?" he asked.
"Why, they're not in here," answered the manager.
A cry came from the ticket seller--a cry of consternation and terror.
"The money!" he fluttered.
"What money?" asked Burnham.
"The bills in the tray!"
"What about them?"
"Gone!"
"Gone where?"
"Don't know! Disappeared!"
"How could they?"
"Somebody must have reached in and taken them while we were looking for the cat and dog. I've been robbed!"
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page