Of course they all promised, and after leaving their friend to the tender mercies of the hotel clerk, hastened back to their Alma Mater.
They were just in time for dinner, but in their excitement and hurry to get back to the hotel ate less than usual. In reply to Reddy"s query as to "what was up," they told him of Mr. Melton"s arrival. Reddy had heard of the Mexican adventure and spoke accordingly. "He must be a good man to know," he opined, "and I"d like to meet him. Go ahead an" make your call now, but don"t get back late. I guess, from what I hear of this Melton that he"ll see that you leave in time anyway."
"No, he"s not the kind to persuade people to forget their obligations,"
said d.i.c.k. "In fact, he"s just the opposite. But of course our own well-known principles would make it impossible for us to be late," with a grin.
"Yes, I know all about that sort of stuff," said Reddy. "See if for once you can live up to your own "rep.""
"All you got to do is keep your eyes peeled, and you"ll see us piking in here right on the dot," laughed Tom. "Come on, fellows. The sooner we get started the sooner we"ll get back."
"Right you are," agreed Bert, and the three comrades swung into a brisk stride. A twenty-minute walk brought them to the "Royal," and they were immediately ushered up to Mr. Melton"s room. In answer to their knock a hearty voice bade them "come in," and as they opened the door Mr. Melton met them with outstretched hand.
"Come in and make yourselves at home," he said genially. "If you want anything and don"t see it, ask for it."
"You seem to be pretty well fixed with about everything that anybody could want, now," commented Bert, glancing about the luxuriously appointed room. "This place certainly looks as though it had had some thought and money expended on it."
"Yes," admitted the Westerner, "it reminds me of the so-called "hotels"
we used to have out West in the early days--it"s so different. The height of luxury there was in having a room all to yourself. As a rule you had to bunk in with at least two or three others. O yes, this is quite an improvement on one of those old shacks. I remember one of the pioneer towns where there was a fierce rivalry between the proprietors of the only two hotels in town. They were each trying to get the better of the other by adding some improvement, real or fancied. First the owner of the "Palace" had his shack painted a vivid white and green.
Then the owner of the "Lone Star" hostelry, not to be outdone, had his place painted also, and had a couple of extra windows cut in the wall.
So it went, and if they had kept it up long enough, probably in the end people stopping at one of the places would have been fairly comfortable.
But before matters reached that unbelievable pitch, O"Day, owner of the "Palace," was killed in a shooting fracas. The man who plugged him claimed he was playing "crooked" poker, and I think that in all probability he was. If he wasn"t, it was about the only time in his life that he ever played straight."
"What happened to the man who did the shooting?" asked Bert.
"Well, O"Day wasn"t what you"d call a very popular character," replied Mr. Melton, "and n.o.body felt very much cut up over his sudden exit from this vale of tears. They got up an impromptu jury, but the twelve "good men and true" failed to find the defendant guilty."
"But how did they get around it?" asked Tom. "There was no doubt about who did the killing, was there?"
"Not the least in the world," replied Mr. Melton with a laugh; "but as I say, popular sentiment was with the man who did the shooting, so the jury turned in a verdict that ran something in this fashion, if I remember rightly: "We find that the deceased met death while inadvisably attempting to stop a revolver bullet in motion" or words to that effect. I thought at the time it was a masterpiece of legal fiction."
"I should say it was," commented d.i.c.k. "The quibbles and technicalities that make our laws a good deal of a joke to-day have nothing much on that."
"That"s a fact," agreed Mr. Melton; "some of the results of our modern "justice," so called, are certainly laughable. It"s all very well to give a man every chance and the benefit of every doubt, but when a conviction is set aside because the court clerk was an hour behind time getting to court on the day of the trial, it begins to look as though things were being carried too far. Mere technicalities and lawyers"
quibbles should not have the weight with judges that for some reason they seem to possess."
"I"ve no doubt," remarked Bert, "that some of the rough and ready courts such as you were just telling us about meted out a pretty fair brand of justice at that."
"Yes, they did," replied Mr. Melton. "They got right down to the core of the argument, and cut out all confusing side issues. If, for instance, three witnesses all swore they saw a man steal a horse, and yet were unable to agree on the exact time of the stealing, the chances were ten to one that the horse thief would be strung up without further loss of time. And there was no appeal from the findings of a frontier jury."
"It must have been an exciting life, that of the old frontier days,"
commented Bert. "I guess n.o.body had to complain much of the monotony of it."
"Not so you could notice," replied Mr. Melton with a smile, "but there wasn"t half as much shooting going on all the time as you might believe from reading the current stories in the magazines dealing with the "wild and woolly West." Most everybody carried a gun, of course, but they weren"t used so very often. Every man knew that his neighbor was probably an expert in the use of his "shooting irons," too, so there wasn"t much percentage in starting an argument. Most of the sc.r.a.ps that did occur would never have been started, if it hadn"t been for the influence of "red-eye," as the boys used to call the vile brands of whiskey served out in the frontier saloons. That whiskey bit like vitriol, and a few gla.s.ses of it were enough to make any man take to the war path."
"I suppose you carried a gun in those days, too, didn"t you, Mr.
Melton?" questioned d.i.c.k.
"Yes, I carried a pair of Colt"s .45s with me for years," replied the Westerner, with a reminiscent look in his eyes. "Why, a couple of guns were as much a part of a man"s dress in those days as a pair of shoes.
Every one carried them as a matter of course."
"Did you ever have to use them?" asked Bert.
"Only once," replied Mr. Melton. "I never went looking for trouble, and it has been my experience, when you don"t look for trouble, trouble seldom looks for you. But the one time I did have use for my a.r.s.enal made up for lost time."
"Tell us about it, please," chorused the boys, and Mr. Melton smiled at their eagerness as he lit another perfecto.
"Well," he began, "it was back in the old days before the time of the railroads, when stage coaches were the only carriers known. I was traveling to Fort Worth on business, and was finding the journey anything but a pleasant one. The coach was old and rickety, and the way it lurched and rolled reminded me of a small boat in a rough sea. It was a terrifically hot day, too, and the stinging alkali dust got down your throat and in your eyes until life seemed an unbearable burden. We had traveled steadily all the morning, and along toward afternoon most of the pa.s.sengers began to feel pretty sleepy, and dozed off. I was among the number. Suddenly I was awakened by a shout of "hands up!" and found myself looking full into the muzzle of a blue barreled Colt, held in the hand of a masked man.
"There was nothing for it but to obey, seeing he had the drop on us, so up went our hands over our heads. There were six other pa.s.sengers in the coach, but if we had been sixteen we would have been no better off.
"As we gazed in a sort of fascination at the ugly-looking revolver, another masked man entered the coach and commenced systematically to relieve the pa.s.sengers of their valuables. I happened to be nearest the front of the coach, and so did not receive the benefit of his attentions at first. He had almost reached me when there was a commotion outside, and he straightened up to listen, all his senses on the alert.
"He was between me and the door in which his companion was standing. For the moment the man in the door could not get at me except through his comrade, and I resolved to grasp the opportunity. In a flash I had reached down into the breast of my coat and grasped the b.u.t.t of my revolver. Before the desperado in front of me could get his gun in action, I had fired. At the first shot he dropped to the ground and, as he fell, a bullet from the man in the doorway took my hat off. I pulled the trigger as fast as my fingers could work, and he did the same. I have only a confused recollection of smoke, flashes of flame, shouts and a dull shock in my left arm. In what must have been but a few seconds it was all over. With my own gun empty, I waited to see what would happen.
I knew that if by that time I hadn"t killed the bandit, he had me at his mercy. And even with him disposed of, I fully expected to be plugged by the man outside who was holding the driver under guard.
"But he must have had a streak of yellow in him, for when he failed to see either of his comrades come out of the coach he concluded that they were either dead or prisoners, and made off as fast as his pony could carry him. By that time we pa.s.sengers had rushed out of the coach, and some of us began firing at the fugitive. But a revolver is not very accurate over two or three hundred feet, and I doubt if the desperado was even grazed. I was unable to shoot for, as I had realized by this time, my left arm was broken just above the elbow, and I was unable to load my gun.
"Well, finding that we could not hope to harm the fugitive, we returned to the coach. An examination of the two hold-ups showed that one, the man I had shot first, was dead. The other, who had guarded the door, was badly wounded and unconscious. One of the pa.s.sengers had been bored through the shoulder by a stray bullet, but was not hurt seriously.
"The driver bound up my arm after a fashion, and whipped up his horses.
It was after dark before we reached Fort Worth though, and by that time my arm was giving me a foretaste of what Hades must be. But there was a good doctor in the town, fortunately for me, and he fixed the arm up in fine fashion. And, believe me, I felt lucky to get off as easy as that."
"I should think you would," said Bert admiringly. "It must have taken nerve to pull a gun under those conditions."
"Well," replied Mr. Melton, "it was all on account of a watch I carried at that time. It was one I had had for years, and thought a lot of. The idea of losing that watch just made me desperate. I think if it hadn"t been for that I would never have taken the chance."
"And what happened to the man you wounded?" asked d.i.c.k.
"He gradually recovered," replied Mr. Melton. "The boys were going to hang him when he got well enough, but one night he broke jail and got away. They made up a posse and chased him through three counties, but never caught him. I imagine, though, that his liking for hold-ups suffered a severe check."
"Very likely," agreed Bert, "but I"m glad you saved the watch, anyway."
"So am I," said Mr. Melton with a smile. "Here it is now, if you"d care to see it."
He pa.s.sed a handsome gold timepiece over to the boys, who admired it greatly. Then the talk turned to other subjects, and before they realized it, it was time for them to go.
Before leaving, however, they made Mr. Melton promise to visit the college the following afternoon. This he readily did, and the boys took their departure after saying a hearty good night to their Western friend.
CHAPTER XIII
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
TRUE to his promise, Mr. Melton made his appearance at the south end of the campus a little after three o"clock of the following day. The three friends were there to meet him, and they exchanged hearty greetings.
"There"s so much we want to show you that we hardly know where to begin," said Bert. "What shall we show him first, fellows?"