CHAPTER VIIFRANK EXPLAINS THE SITUATION.
“I have seen that face before,” declared Frank.
“I thought I had at first glance,” confessed Jack Diamond. “That’s why I stopped and stared. She must have thought me a chump.”
The two friends were at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Twenty-third Street. They had been sauntering along, when the attention of both was attracted by a strangely handsome face in the passing throng. A pair of midnight eyes flashed them one swift glance as the girl hurried on. Jack stopped in his tracks.
“Merriwell,” he said after a moment, “you can’t guess of whom she reminded me?”
“I shall not try to guess.”
“Juliet,” said Jack.
“She does look something like her. She has a fine figure. I am sure I have seen her before.”
“What made it seem more like Juliet,” muttered the Virginian, “was that she appeared startled by the sight of one or both of us.”
“I was startled,” confessed Frank, gazing after the retreating figure, “for it seemed to be the face of somebody I knew.”
The girl had been swallowed up in the throng on the south side of the street.
“She was like Juliet,” murmured Jack; “though not so handsome.”
“She was quite as handsome as Juliet Reynolds,” Frank thought, but he did not speak the words aloud. Instead, he said: “Let’s turn back, Jack. I’d like to get another glimpse of her.”
“You?” exclaimed the Virginian, in surprise. “Why, I thought Elsie——”
“There are a few things you do not know, old chum,” said Merry, forcing a smile, which was not quite free from regret and pain.
They had turned about.
“But Elsie Bellwood is in love with you, Merriwell,” Diamond insisted. “I know it, old man.”
“You think you do; but you have been abroad for some time, and things have happened while you were away.”
Jack was astonished.
“Why,” he breathed wonderingly, “you don’t mean to say—to say———— What do you mean, anyhow?”
“That it’s all off between Elsie and your humble servant.”
“Impossible!”
“True, just the same.”
“I can’t believe it now. You are joking, Frank!”
“Do you think I would joke about a thing like that?”
“Forgive me, Merry; I know you would not. You never boasted of your ‘affairs of the heart.’ You were not that kind. And you might have boasted truthfully, for all the girls seemed to get smashed on you. You never talked of such things.”
“And I did not mean to speak of this, but you——”
“I know—I brought it up. Pardon me, old man, I don’t like to seem curious about such things, but I can’t understand it. Do you mind telling me what has happened? If you do, all right—don’t say a word.”
“I couldn’t tell everything if I tried, Jack, so I won’t try. But there have been strange developments. Hodge saved Elsie from a burning steamer off the coast of Georgia. Rather, he attempted to save her, and they were shut in together by the flames so it seemed that neither could escape. Then and there the love for her that he had kept hidden in his heart—hidden even from himself—burst forth, and he told her everything. After that they were able to escape.”
Frank paused. He had not explained that it was he who had rescued Bart and Elsie from certain death.
“Hodge?” muttered Diamond. “That fellow? And he has——”
“He acted the man,” asserted Merry instantly.
“How?”
“By standing face to face with me and telling me everything. He would have withdrawn, though I know he is passionately in love with Elsie. With a word I could have sent him away from her, for he is as loyal a friend as man ever had. He would sacrifice himself for me. But why should I ask that of him?”
“Because it is your right!” declared Diamond earnestly. “Elsie knew you first—cared for you first. Hodge has no right to come between you.”
“That is one way of looking at it. There are other ways. I have never spoken plainly to her—that is, I have never made a definite and outspoken proposal. How could she be sure that I ever would? Why should she feel bound to me in any way, save by the tie of friendship, which has not been broken by anything that has taken place? There was no reason, Jack. You can see that.”
“Well, looking at it that way, perhaps you are right; but——”
“There are no ‘buts’ about it, my dear boy. It is hard, common sense. I had no real claim on Elsie, and I could not feel wronged if she were to marry Hodge to-morrow.”
“Hodge knew; confound him! He——”
“Even he could not be sure I cared more for Elsie than for Inza Burrage. You must remember that both of these girls have been very dear friends to me.”
“Well, the confounded cad should have waited till he was sure which you preferred! Hang it, Merriwell! I resent it that any one of your friends dared step between you and——”
“That’s where you are wrong, Jack. You do not pause to think of the circumstances. You must remember that they were on a burning steamer and facing what seemed certain death for both of them. For years Hodge had cared for Elsie deep down in his heart, but had smothered the passion and had even made himself believe it did not exist. The peril, his brave attempt to save her, their hopelessness, all led to the uprising of his love, so that at last he could no longer blind himself. He did not think he was betraying me, for death could not be avoided. He would not have been human had he kept silent then.”
“Perhaps you are right,” admitted the Virginian reluctantly. “But you know I’ve never fancied the fellow particularly. It does not seem right for him to win Elsie, and I do not believe he will make her happy. Think of his passionate disposition, his reckless ways——”
“And think of her moderation and gentleness. She will soften and change him. Her influence over him will be of the very best. I believe he will stand ready to lay down his very life for her. I am sure he will do everything in his power to make her happy. That is—if she ever accepts him.”
“Then she hasn’t——”
“Not yet.”
“Frank, she still——”
“She says she will never marry.”
“Frank, she still cares more for you than anybody living! All girls say they are going to be old maids. It gets to be a silly habit with them.”
“Elsie is not a silly girl.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that; you know what I meant. But how about Inza Burrage—she remains true to you?”
“As a friend. She has been nothing more for a long time.”
“I know she’s a proud, jealous girl, and——”
“Don’t say a word against her, Jack!”
“What do you take me for? There was a time that I did not know which girl you cared for most.”
A strange, inscrutable smile flitted over Frank Merriwell’s fine face. Perhaps there had been a time when he was not sure in his own heart which he cared for most.
“But,” Jack went on, “I reasoned it all out, and I knew at last that you preferred Elsie.”
Did he know? He might have thought so, but what man knows all the secrets of another’s heart?
“I saw that you were fond of Inza, proud to be her friend, ready to fight for her to the last gasp, ready to do anything for her sake, but you did not love her.”
Had the Virginian read Frank’s heart better than Frank himself?
“Then,” Jack went on, as they turned up Broadway, “in my estimation, Elsie was better adapted for you in every way. It doesn’t seem right that Hodge should come between you, and I will not believe she really cares for him.”
“About that I am not certain, but my faith in him is absolute. I know he would make any true, womanly girl a most devoted husband—that is, a girl he really and truly loved.”
“Perhaps so, but there is a reckless streak in him, and something might send him to the dogs at any time.”
“Just so,” nodded Merry. “Knowing that, I was not the fellow to revile him and cause him to do something rash. It is to be a fair and open show, with no underhand methods.”
“Oh, well, you’ll win—you can’t help it. When she knows the truth she will turn to you. She cannot blame you for not tying yourself down by a regular engagement till after you leave college.”
They had come to one of the handsomest flower-stores on Broadway. Of a sudden, Frank touched Jack’s arm, calling the Virginian’s attention to a girl who was gazing at the handsome display in the window.
“There she is again!” said Merry.
“The same girl we saw back there,” breathed Jack. “Even now she looks something like Juliet.”
“I know her,” asserted Frank. “But I can’t think of her name at this minute. I feel certain I have seen her under far different circumstances and far from this city.”
“Well, I don’t think I ever saw her before,” confessed Diamond.
“I’m going to speak to her,” said Merry. “I shall puzzle over her identity if I do not, and I am absolutely certain I know her.”
He advanced to the window, lifted his hat gracefully, saying:
“I beg your pardon, but I think we have met before.”
Jack was standing a few feet away. The girl gave a little cry of alarm. Her cheeks a moment before had been flushed with a clear, healthy tint, but they turned very pale, and there was a gleam of fear in her eyes as she shrank from Merriwell.
The Yale man was astonished by this show of fear, for it was too intense, he fancied, to be that of a refined and timid girl, frightened by a stranger’s address.
Besides that, there was something in the rose-color natural to the rounded cheeks of the girl, something in her confident and graceful carriage, something in her easy and assured manner which seemed to indicate that she would not fear a strange man.
Although she was well dressed, her clothes being of expensive material, Merriwell’s discerning eyes discovered that her style was not the style of New York, and already he had decided that she was from some other place. This girl seemed more like a native of Boston than New York.
“You have no reason to fear me,” said Frank, in his most reassuring manner. “But I am sure you will recognize me if you stop to think a moment. If you assure me that you do not recognize me, I’ll leave you at once.”
Gradually the color was returning to her face, which, although refined, had a sort of wild beauty about it that was suggestive of woods and hills and outdoor life. She looked at Frank in surprise, but there came a quick flash of recognition.
“Why—why!” she gasped, and the sound of her voice seemed to stir echoing memories within him, “is it—are you—Frank Merriwell?”
He had made no mistake; she knew him.
“Yes,” he said; “but even now I cannot——”
A man dashed past Jack Diamond and went straight at Frank, who did not see him. Without a word, he struck Merry a blow that caused him to stagger and nearly fall. Then he clutched the girl by the wrist, his face contorted, as he hissed:
“So he is another one of them? How many are there?”
She gave a cry and tried to fling him off. Diamond had leaped forward, but Frank recovered and turned before the Virginian could interfere.
Merry saw the girl make a vain attempt to release herself from the grasp of the man, who was a tall, rugged, athletic-looking fellow about twenty-five years of age. Merry did not hesitate a single instant. He quickly snatched the girl from the man’s grasp, swinging her behind him, saying:
“I will protect you.”
The fellow gave an exclamation of fury and sprang toward Frank. Merriwell dodged the fierce blow delivered at his face, and his fist struck the man fairly on the chin, hurling him backward to the pavement. The assailant fell heavily to the hard stones and lay there, stunned for the time.
“That was a clever blow, Merriwell,” observed Diamond, his eyes flashing and his cheeks glowing. “Very much like the one that did McGilvay.”
Frank stepped forward and stood looking down at the man, who had the appearance of a countryman.
“I hope he is not severely injured,” said Merry. “He met my blow, which made it all the heavier.”
“Don’t worry about the dog,” advised Diamond, with a glance of contempt toward the fallen man.
“He must know the lady,” said Frank, turning about to speak to her.
She was gone. Both Frank and Jack stared in surprise. She had taken advantage of the first opportunity to get away. The Virginian whistled a little.
“Slipped away,” he said. “Which way did she go, I wonder?”
Frank could not tell, but several pedestrians had paused, and a crowd was gathering, one of whom declared the girl had entered a cab which carried her up Broadway. Merriwell looked disappointed.
“She knew my name, and I did not find out who she is,” he muttered. “I’m sorry about that.”
The fallen man was recovering. He opened his eyes and looked around, seeming greatly bewildered. Then he saw Frank and struggled to one elbow, glaring at the calm youth, who quietly waited for him to rise.
“You’re one of them!” muttered the fellow, his eyes full of hatred for Merry. “I’ll never forget you!”
“I am sorry I had to strike you that blow,” Merry confessed; “but you came at me like a mad bull, and I was forced to defend myself.”
“It ain’t the blow,” said the man. “I don’t care anything about that; but you shall pay for the wrong you have done her.”
“I think you must be a trifle daffy, my man. What are you talking about?”
“You know well enough, blame yer! I don’t want to talk about it—here; but I swear you shall pay dearly for it.”
He rose to his feet, and, for a moment, it seemed that he contemplated renewing his attack on Merry, at whom he stared in anger and bewilderment.
“I don’t see how you ever struck such a blow,” he finally confessed. “But next time it will be my turn to strike—for her sake!”
Then he walked away, turning into Twenty-fifth Street and going toward Sixth Avenue.
“What do you make of it, anyhow?” asked Diamond.
“I don’t know just what to make of it,” acknowledged Frank, with a frown on his handsome face. “It’s very unpleasant, and I am completely puzzled.”
The men who had gathered about were staring at them, and they moved away after the man with whom Merry had had the encounter.
“If I could recall the name of that girl, I’d feel better,” Frank declared. “I don’t remember when I’ve ever forgotten a name before this. But I cannot even remember under what circumstances we previously met, though I am certain there was something very striking about it. It is possible I may never have known her name, and still——”
“Still, she knew yours.”
“Yes.”
“The man—do you remember him?”
Merry shook his head.
“I looked at him closely, and I’m sure I never saw him before. He is an utter stranger to me.”
“And he seemed to blame you for something—what was it? He seemed somehow to connect you with the girl.”
“I know it, and that is part of the mystery, Jack. As a rule, I enjoy mysteries, but there is something unpleasant in this one, and I do not like it much. If it had not been for the crowd and the public place, I’d made an attempt to get something out of him. But I could not do it there.”
“We might follow——”
“A good idea,” nodded Frank, as they turned into Twenty-fifth Street. “Let’s see if we cannot overtake him.”
But the man, like the girl, had vanished.