Читать книгу Frank Merriwell, Jr., in Arizona; or, Clearing a Rival's Record онлайн

8 страница из 92

“Tell you later,” muttered Lenning.

“Look here: The bunch of fellows at the camp in the gulch are having Merriwell over for a boating competition—canoe race, or something like that. You’ve got a grudge against Merriwell and you’d like to saw it off with him. Am I right?”

An astounded look crossed Lenning’s face. He turned his bewildered eyes on his friend.

“How the deuce did you guess that?” he inquired breathlessly.

“The dope clears the brain wonderfully, Len,” grinned Shoup. “It all came to me, just now. Sort of second sight, I reckon. Am I right?”

“Well, what if you are?”

“Nothing, but this: I’m with you. What reason have I to love Merriwell? No more than you. If we square the score, suppose we do it together.”

Lenning stared gloomily at Shoup, then turned on his heel and started off down the cañon. “Come on,” he called, “we’d better keep a-plugging.”

Shoup made after him, his step buoyant, his spirits as light as his step. He was paying for every hour of that stimulated, fictitious strength with a year of his life. But his thoughts did not—dared not—take account of the future. It was the immediate present that concerned him.