Frank Merriwell, Juniors, Golden Trail | Page 6

What would you do, Mr. Bradlaugh? Go over to Gold Hill and
try to pick up some clews there?"
"That might be advisable; just at present, however, I have another line
of investigation in mind. I don't suppose you have forgotten Nick Porter,
the old prospector who took you out to the deserted camp in the Picket
Posts?"
Clancy began to laugh.
"It's a cinch," said he, "that we'll never forget old Silent Porter and his
whisky bottle. I suppose he used the fifty dollars Chip paid him to
grubstake himself, and that he's now, in the deserts looking for a
mine?"
"That's what he wanted the fifty for," answered Bradlaugh, "but after he
got it he seems to have delayed going into the hills. Next day after you
lads got back from Happenchance, Porter went to Gold Hill. The spree
he had there on that fifty has been the talk of the town. He's a
disreputable old chap when in his cups, and I'm wondering if he knows
anything about Borrodaile's disappearance."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Merry. "I wouldn't put it past him any. He was
with us when we came back from Happenchance, and I remember now
just how he looked when he saw a sample of the wire-gold ore."
"He was ready to throw a fit," said Ballard, "because he had been all
through the Picket Post range and had never found any gold there. I'll
bet a farm you can nail this thing to Nick Porter."
"Don't be hasty about that," warned Bradlaugh. "It's only a theory, and I
believe every man ought to be considered as honest until he proves

himself otherwise. Porter is merely a subject for investigation, that's
all."
"Then," said Frank promptly, "we'll go over to Gold Hill this very night
and begin investigating him."
"You won't have to go to Gold Hill. I've heard from our super at the
mine that Porter returned here this afternoon, looking a good deal the
worse for wear. After supper you can visit the mine and have a talk
with the prospector. You'll know what angle to give your investigations,
Merriwell."
"But he may pull out for the hills while we're delaying here in town!"
"He'll have to get money for another grubstake before he goes any
more prospecting. Even if he has the money--which is hardly
possible--the super, on my orders, will delay him if he tries to leave."
Here was a sample of Mr. Bradlaugh's thoughtfulness which Merry
deeply appreciated.
"We'll be at the mine this evening, Mr. Bradlaugh," said he, "and if
Porter knows anything about the professor's absence, we'll do our best
to find out what it is."
"My car would be at your disposal, but just now it's in the repair shop,"
went on Mr. Bradlaugh. "There are a couple of motor cycles at the
mine, though, if you find it necessary to go anywhere in a hurry. Pardo,
the super, will be glad to let you take the machines."
Frank thanked Mr. Bradlaugh for the offer, and started to leave.
"Just a moment," said the older man. "How did the boys shape up in the
practice game?"
"Fine!" Merriwell answered.
"I suppose after you have located the professor and extricated him from
any troubles he may have fallen into, you'll do your best to give us an

eleven that will make the Gold Hillers eat crow instead of turkey for
Thanksgiving?"
There was a twinkle in Mr. Bradlaugh's eyes as he spoke.
"I'll do what I can, Mr. Bradlaugh," Merry answered; "you may depend
on that."
"I am depending on it. It seems to me that the son of the greatest
baseball pitcher and football half back Yale ever produced is well
qualified to give Ophir a winning eleven. Good luck to you and your
friends, Merriwell. Wind tip this business of the professor's as soon as
you can and then get back on the football job. If I can help you in any
way, call on me."
As Frank, after murmuring further thanks, was about to step through
the office door, Woo Sing, roustabout Chinaman at the Ophir House,
stepped up on the porch with a yellow envelope in his hand.
"Whoosh!" gabbled Woo Sing, his parchmentlike face splitting in a
wide grin, "my lookee fo' you, Missul Melliwell."
"Is that telegram for me?" demanded Frank.
"Allee same," answered the Chinaman, passing it over.
Frank tore open the envelope and read the message then, with a long
whistle, he returned to put it in Mr. Bradlaugh's hands. Mr. Bradlaugh
read as follows:
"FRANK MERRIWELL, JUNIOR, Care Ophir House, Ophir, Ariz.,
via Gold Hill:
"Good work! Watch Borradaile carefully. Don't let him out of your
sight. Important. Letter on the way.
"YOUR FATHER."
Mr. Bradlaugh also gave a long whistle as he