Barney Breslin had just completed his walk on his hands around the track of the gymnasium, and the applause with which he had been greeted had ceased, when Scott Clemmons asked Mark Merrill if he could accomplish a like feat. When the gold coin fell from Mark’s pocket and the loud murmur of amazement was heard, Barney Breslin had sprang forward, and seizing the piece of gold cried: “It is your luck coin, Clemmons, as I live!” “It certainly is, but surely there must be some mistake, for Merrill could not be guilty of——” “I tell you now that he is the man I saw leaving our room,” said Breslin, interrupting Clemmons. And all this time, unheeding the dropping of the coin from his pocket, Mark Merrill had continued his hand-walk around the track, accomplishing the feat with an ease far greater than Barney Breslin had done. As he approached the group now, his face flushed from his peculiar exercise, every eye was upon him, and a death-like silence was upon all. “You must speak, Clemmons, for this cannot be allowed to go by,” said Breslin, breaking the silence. “Merrill, it seems that you accomplished Breslin’s feat, but you have also done something that he could not and would not do,” said Scott Clemmons. “What is that, may I ask, Mr. Clemmons?” “You dropped something from your pocket awhile since?” “Yes, I heard it drop, but as I had no claim to it I paid no attention to it.” “You know what it was?” “Ah! yes; an octagonal coin which Breslin stole from you and placed in my pocket, hoping to prove me the thief,” was the cool response. “Ha! you dare accuse me of being a thief?” and, like a mad bull, Barney Breslin rushed upon Mark Merrill. Some would have interfered had they had time, and all expected to see Barney Breslin seize and crush Mark Merrill in his iron grasp. But instead, they saw the huge bully fly backward with terrific force and measure his length upon the track of the gymnasium. He had been dealt a blow by Mark that half-stunned him, and amazed all, for the young sailor had never before shown what he could do with his fists, and his latent strength was never once suspected, unless it was by Scott Clemmons. With a howl of rage Barney Breslin arose and rushed again upon Mark, who cried out: “Back, Breslin, or you will regret it!” A cry of defiance was Breslin’s only answer, and as the cadet struck up Mark’s guard, he was enabled to seize him in his long, powerful arms. But only for a moment did he retain his hold, for he was raised bodily from his feet and dashed to the floor with a force that shook the building, and he lay limp and dazed from the fall. Though astonished at Mark’s grand exhibition of strength, and glad as many were to see Barney Breslin “Prove that you know nothing about that coin, Merrill, or it will go hard with you.” Mark was not in the least disturbed, as he faced those who demanded an inquiry into the cruel charge against him, and said in his quiet way, as he stood over the fallen Breslin: “I have nothing to say for myself, but shall ask Mr. Dillingham to speak for me, after which Mr. Nazro can speak.” “Out with it, Dillingham, if you can say anything to clear Merrill of this very nasty charge,” said Cadet Captain Byrd Bascomb. “I will only say that since we came into the gymnasium here Merrill came up to me and said that he had seen Clemmons’ lost gold piece in Breslin’s hand, and that he appeared to be trying to slip it into his, Merrill’s pocket, and asked me to watch him. I did so, and I did see Breslin pass very near Merrill and appear to drop something into his pocket, but what it was I could not see.” This testimony from Winslow Dillingham created a sensation, which was added to when Herbert Nazro said: “And Merrill whispered to me: “‘Watch Breslin and see what he is up to, for he has haunted me ever since I came in.’ “I did watch him, and I distinctly saw him slip something yellow into Merrill’s pocket, which now I will swear was the gold piece which Clemmons lost. Now, Clemmons, who is the one you accuse?” and Herbert Nazro turned upon Scott Clemmons, who responded: “I make no accusation, and yet I cannot doubt the evidence of yourself and Dillingham.” “And I ask you, Breslin, do you dare accuse me?” The words were uttered in a low tone, yet all heard them, and Mark Merrill faced Barney Breslin, who now stood before him, his face white and bruised from the blow he had received. “Speak, sir!” There was a very dangerous light in the eyes of Mark Merrill now, and there followed his command a chorus of voices, saying: “Yes, speak!” But Barney Breslin uttered no word, and his face grew livid as his eyes roved over to where Scott Clemmons stood. He met only a cold stare from the man who had been his friend, and placing his hand to his head in a dazed sort of way, he walked slowly out of the gymnasium. “He shall speak!” cried Mark, starting after him, but a dozen hands held him back, while Byrd Bascomb said: “No need of it, Merrill; for he is the thief.” “And worse, he well-nigh ruined you, Merrill,” added Herbert Nazro. “Forgive me, Merrill, but he accused you to me, and it was his plot to have you walk on your hands that the money might roll out of your pocket,” and Scott Clemmons held out his hand. But sharp and decisive came the response: “No, Clemmons, I will not take your hand, for you are no more my friend than Breslin has been—I pity him, but despise you,” and Mark walked away with Dillingham, Nazro and Byrd Bascomb. |