Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Support; Or, A Triple Play онлайн

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The moment he saw Merriwell, Derring’s face flamed, and he uttered an exclamation of anger. He had been drinking, and he made straight for Frank.

“I want to see you!” he exclaimed. “T believe you gave the crowd the impression that I was trying to do something crooked to-day. I have a score to settle with you.”

Frank looked at the rascal in surprise and contempt.

“You have more nerve than any man I ever saw,” he declared. “Your work on the field to-day spoke for itself. I did not have to give the impression.”

“But you did it, just the same. You got the crowd down on me.”

“How?”

“By kicking against my decision.”

“I kicked because I was not willing to be robbed.”

“Then you say I was robbing you?”

“Yes!”

“You are a——”

“Stop!” rang out Frank’s voice. “Don’t say it! I protected you from the mob to-day after you did me a dirty turn, but I’ll not hold my hand in case you call me a liar!”

“If you lifted a hand on me,” said Derring, his eyes glaring and his hand moving toward his hip, “I’d shoot you like a dog!”