Frank Merriwell's Bravery

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER XXXVIII.

  "QUEER" MONEY.

  "This is counterfeit!"

  It was in the First National Bank of Carson, between nine and teno'clock of the day following Frank's arrival in the city.

  Frank had found it difficult to get either of the new fifty-dollar billschanged, and so he stepped into the bank and asked if he could befavored there.

  The bill had been scrutinized closely, the cashier had examined itbeneath a magnifying glass, after which he questioned the boy concerninghis manner of obtaining the paper, and Frank had told the truth fullyand without hesitation. Then the boy had been called into a privateroom, and the cashier had declared the bill counterfeit.

  Frank had been prepared for such an assertion by what went before it,and he immediately opened his pocketbook and produced the other billwhich he had received of Isa Isban.

  "Please look at this, and see if it is also counterfeit," he asked, withremarkable coolness.

  In a moment the cashier said:

  "It is a mate for the first one. Both are 'queer.' My boy, this is badstuff to be carrying around. It is liable to bring you into no end oftrouble."

  As he said this he was regarding Frank's face with a searching stare, asif seeking to discover if the lad were honest or crooked.

  Frank knew he was under suspicion, and he bore himself as quietly aspossible.

  "This is the first intimation I have received that the bills are bad,"declared the lad. "I received them as I have explained, and I have triedin several places, this morning, to get one of them broken, but did notsucceed. I finally came here."

  The cashier's brows lowered. He partially closed his eyes, and regardedthe boy steadily. Then he began once more to ask questions.

  Frank knew he was in an unfortunate situation, and he decided the bestthing he could do was to answer every question truthfully, which he did.

  It happened there was not much business going on in the bank. The payingteller and the receiving teller listened to the questions and answers.The receiving teller was a young man, and his face wore a sneering lookof incredulity. He regarded Frank with open doubt, and, once or twice,muttered, "Ridiculous!" "Nonsense!" "A clever lie!" or something of thesort.

  The face of the paying teller was calm and unexpressive. It seemed thathe had not determined in his own mind if the boy were telling the truth.He was listening to hear everything before he decided.

  Frank explained how he came to be in Carson City, having given his name,age, his guardian's name, told where his home was, and answered morethan a score of other questions.

  The sneers of the receiving teller angered the boy; but he held hisfeelings in check, and did not seem to hear the man when he proposedthat Merriwell be handed over to the special policeman in front of thebank.

  "Mr. Merriwell," said the cashier, "I shall have to take possession ofthese bills."

  "Why is that?"

  "It is my duty. I have such instructions. You are getting off easy atthat."

  "But I shall not recover my hundred dollars."

  "No; that is lost. Let me tell you something: There is a band ofqueer-makers somewhere in this vicinity. They do not attempt to runtheir stuff into circulation around here; the most of it is put out inChicago. But they have been traced to this part of the country.Detectives are at work on the case--Secret Service men, in the employ ofthe government. Who these detectives are no one can say, although it hasbeen reported that Dan Drake is in it. Up to this time they have beenputting out tens and twenties. This fifty must be a new bit of work. AndI have something more to tell you. It is said that the queen of thisgang of counterfeiters is a beautiful young girl, who does not look tobe more than seventeen years of age. It is possible----"

  But he made a gesture of anger, because such a thing should be thoughtfor a moment.

  "It is not possible!" he said, sharply. "She is innocent of such a thingas that! You cannot make me believe----"

  He stopped, noting that the look of scorn on the face of the receivingteller was deepening. Then, slowly and surely, the thought that the girlhad deceived him, that she was not as innocent as she looked, came uponhim. The mystery that surrounded her deepened, and a sudden longing toknow the truth grasped him.

  The receiving teller laughed shortly, as he saw the changes whichflitted across the lad's face.

  "There's guilt for you!" he muttered.

  Frank stiffened up, giving the man a cutting look.

  "What became of this girl for whom you changed two fifty-dollar bills?"asked the cashier.

  "I do not remember what became of her," declared Frank. "She was apassenger on the Pacific Express. I left the express at Reno."

  "And she went on? Bound for 'Frisco, it is likely."

  Frank had not said she went on. He explained that he met a friend atReno, and that was how he happened to leave the express; that friend wascoming to Carson, and that was how he happened to come to Carson.

  He did not tell that they had followed the girl to Carson, had shadowedher to the house where she had stopped, and that his companion orhimself had watched that house constantly, ever since.

  "Bart is watching it now," he told himself. "She can't get away. Shemust explain to me how that bogus money came into her possession. Ibelieve I know! The man with the black mustache must have given it toher!"

  That the man with the sinister mustache was a villain he did not doubt,but he still doubted that the girl was anything but what sheseemed--young, innocent, incapable of crime.

  The cashier spoke a low word to one of his companions, and a sudden fearcame upon Frank. Was the man ordering his arrest? He could not afford tobe detained and bothered at that time. How would he solve the mystery ifthey placed him under arrest?

  But Frank had nerve, and he would not take to his heels, knowing such anact would make it seem certain that he was guilty.

  The receiving teller spoke sharply to the cashier, seemingly urging himto some action; but the boy heard the cashier reply:

  "It will spoil the whole thing to be too hasty."

  "The boy can be made to peach on the gang," said the teller, in aguarded tone.

  "That's folly!" declared the cashier, shortly. "The boy is notconnected with the gang. Think they would send him here--to a bank--ifhe were! Have a little sense, Burton!"

  The teller mumbled, looking sullen and rebuffed, while Frank feltrelieved.

  Then the cashier once more questioned Frank, as a lawyer might questiona witness. He tried, in various ways, to entrap the boy, but Frank madeno blunders.

  After a time, the cashier seemed satisfied.

  "I am sorry for you," he said. "You have lost a hundred dollars, but youare fortunate to escape arrest and imprisonment."

  "I suppose I am," admitted Frank; "and I will tell you something, now; Ipropose to solve the mystery of this money. I am going to find thatgirl, I am going to find out how she came to have the bogus stuff, and Iam going to bring this band of queer-makers to book, if possible."

  The receiving teller laughed scornfully.

  "A fine bluff!" he muttered.

  The cashier gave him a crushing glance.

  "You have undertaken a big job, my boy," said the latter. "I hardlythink you will be able to carry it out when government detectives arebothered."

  "I'll do my best."

  "And you'll be pretty sure to get into further trouble."

  "I may, but I am lucky about getting out of trouble."

  "Yes, you are dead lucky," muttered the receiving teller.

  The cashier gave Frank some outspoken advice, and then told the boy hemight go.

  Frank left the private office and walked out of the bank. There was alook of determination on his face.

  "I don't fancy being beaten out of a hundred dollars," he said tohimself. "It's not the money so much; but if that girl knew--if sheplayed me----"

  He stopped short, anger and disgust expressed on his face. His pride wastouched. He did not like to think that he had been thus dec
eived.

  "I am going to know!" he vowed. "I am going to know the truth!"

  He walked away, his head down, thinking. He was trying to form a plan ofaction. Within a short time the mystery that surrounded the beautifulgirl with two names had deepened. He must find a way to learn the truth;he would not be satisfied till he knew the truth.

  For some time he walked along, paying little heed to his surroundings,and then, all at once, a thought came to him:

  "I am followed!"

  He was confident of it. He did not look back, but he seemed to see theshadower on his trail. They were determined to know at the bank if hehad told the truth, and a detective had been detailed to keep watch ofhim.

  Frank loitered along, looking into windows. He betrayed no uneasiness.At last he came to a restaurant. Into this he wandered, proceeding to atable at the farther end. Here he sat and gave his order.

  The boy had taken a seat where he could watch the front door. In a shorttime a small man entered quietly, walked straight to a table, sat down,without glancing round, having hung his hat close at hand, and lookedover the bill of fare.

  "You are the shadower," decided Frank. "I wonder how I can give you theslip?"