Frank ate alone, and went forth alone to see the parade. The professor remained in bed, apparently in a state of utter collapse.
The night after Mardi Gras in New Orleans the Krewe of Proteus holds its parade and ball. The parade is a most dazzling and magnificent spectacle, and the ball is no less splendid.
The streets along which the parade must pass were lined with a dense mass of people on both sides, while windows and balconies were filled.
Shortly after the appointed time the parade started.
It consisted of a series of elaborate and gorgeous floats, the whole forming a line many blocks in length.
Hundreds of flaring torches threw their lights over the movingtableau, and it was indeed a splendid dream.
Never before had Frank seen anything of the kind one-half as beautiful, and he was sincerely glad they had reached the Crescent City in time to be present at Mardi Gras.
The stampede of the Texan steers and the breaking up of the parade that day had made a great sensation in New Orleans. Every one had heard of the peril of the Flower Queen, and how she was rescued by a handsome youth who was said to be a visitor from the North, but whom nobody seemed to know.
Now, the Krewe of Proteus was composed entirely of men, and it was their policy to have nobody but men in their parade. These men were to dress as fairies of both sexes, as they were required to appear in thetableauof "Fairyland."
But the managers of the affair had conceived the idea that it would be a good scheme to reconstruct the wrecked flower barge and have the Queen of Flowers in the procession.
But the Queen of Flowers seemed to be a mystery toevery one, and the managers knew not how to reach her. They made many inquiries, and it became generally known that she was desired for the procession.
Late in the afternoon the managers received a brief note, purporting to be from the Flower Queen, assuring them that she would be on hand to take part in the evening parade.
The flower barge was put in repair, and piled high with the most gorgeous and dainty flowers, and, surmounting all, was a throne of flowers.
Before the time for starting the mysterious masked queen and her attendants in white appeared.
When the procession passed along the streets the queen was recognized everywhere, and the throngs cheered her loudly.
But, out of the thousands, hundreds were heard to say:
"Where is the strange youth who saved her from the mad steer? He should be on the same barge."
Frank's heart leaped as he saw the mysterious girl in the procession.
"There she is!" was his thought. "How can I follow her? How can I trace her and find out who she is?"
As the barge came nearer, he forced his way to the very edge of the crowd that lined the street, without having decided what he would do, but hoping she would see and recognize him.
When the barge was almost opposite, he stepped out a little from the line and lifted his hat.
She saw him!
In a moment, as if she had been looking for him, she caught the crown of flowers from her head and tossed them toward him, crying:
"For the hero!"
He caught them skillfully with his right hand, his hat still in his left. And the hot blood mounted to his face as he saw her tossing kisses toward him with both hands.
"What's it mean?" asked a spectator.
"Don't know," answered another.
But a third cried:
"I'll tell you what it means! That young fellow is the one who saved the Queen of Flowers from the mad steer! I know him, for I saw him do it, and I observed his face."
"That explains why she flung her crown to him and called him the hero."
"Yes, that explains it."
"Three cheers for the hero!"
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!"
The crowd burst into wild cheering, and there was a general struggle to get a fair view of Frank Merriwell, who had suddenly become the object of attention, the splendors of the parade being forgotten for the time.
Frank was confused and bewildered, and he sought to get away as quickly as possible, hoping to follow the Queen of Flowers. But he found his way blocked on every hand, and a hundred voices seemed to be asking:
"What's your name?"
"Where do you belong?"
"Won't you please tell us your name?"
"Haven't I seen you in New York?"
"Aren't you from Chicago?"
Somewhat dazed though he was, Frank noted that, beyond a doubt, the ones who were so very curious and who so rudely demanded his name were visitors in New Orleans. More than that, from their appearance, they were people who would not think of such acts at home, but now were eager to know the Northern lad who by one nervy and daring act had made himself generally talked about in a Southern city.
Some of the women declared he was "So handsome!" and "So manly!" to Frank's increasing dismay.
"I'd give a hundred dollars to get out of this!" he thought.
He must have spoken the words aloud, although he was not aware of it, for a voice at his elbow, low and musical, said:
"Come dis-a-way, señor, an' I will tek yo' out of it."
Frank saw Manuel Mazaro close at hand. The Spaniard—for such Mazaro was—bowed gracefully, and smiled pleasantly upon the boy from the North.
A moment Frank hesitated, and then he said:
"Lead on; I'll follow."
Quickly Mazaro skirted the edge of the throng for a short distance, plunged into the mass, made sure Frankwas close behind, and then forced his way through to a doorway.
"Dis-a way," he invited.
Frank hesitated.
"Where does it lead?"
"Through a passage to annodare street, señor."
Frank felt his revolver in his pocket, and he knew it was loaded for instant use.
"I want to get ahead of this procession—I want to see the Queen of Flowers again."
"I will tek yo' there, señor."
"Lead on."
Frank passed his hand through the crown of flowers, to which he still clung. Without being seen, he took his revolver from his pocket, and held it concealed in the mass of flowers. It was a self-cocker, and he could use it skillfully.
As Mazaro had said, the doorway led into a passage. This was very narrow, and quite dark.
No sooner were they fairly in this place than Frank regretted that he had come, for he realized that it was a most excellent chance for assassination and robbery.
His one fear was of being attacked behind. He was quite ready for any that might rise in front.
"Dis-a way, señor," Mazaro kept repeating. "Dis-a way."
Frank fancied the fellow was speaking louder than was necessary. In fact, he could not see that it was necessary for Mazaro to speak at all.
And then the boy was sure he heard footsteps behind them!
He was caught between two fires—he was trapped!
Frank's first impulse was to leap forward, knock Mazaro down, and take to his heels, keeping straight on through the passage.
A second thought followed the first quite swiftly.
He knew not where the passage led, and he knew not what pitfalls it might contain.
At that moment Frank felt a thrill of actual fear, nervy though he was; but he understood that he must not let fear get the best of him, and he instantly flung it off.
His ears were open, his eyes were open, and every sense was on the alert.
"Let them come!" he almost exclaimed, aloud. "I will give them a warm reception!"
Then he noticed that they passed a narrow opening, like a broken door, and, the next moment he seemed to feel cat-like footfalls at his very heels.
In a twinkling Frank whirled about, crying:
"Hold up where you are! I am armed, and I'll shoot if crowded!"
He had made no mistake, for his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness of the passage, and he could see three dark figures blocking his retreat along the passage.
For one brief second his eyes turned the other way, and it seemed that Manuel Mazaro had been joined by two or three others, for he saw several forms in that direction.
This sudden action of the trapped boy had filled these fellows with surprise and dismay, and curses of anger broke from their lips, the words being hissed rather than spoken.
Frank knew he must attract attention in some way, and so of a sudden he fired a shot into the air.
The flash of his revolver showed him several dark, villainous faces.
"Upon him!" cried Mazaro, in Spanish. "Be quick about it!"
"Back!" shouted Frank, lifting the revolver. "I'll not waste another bullet!"
"Thot's th' talk, me laddybuck!" rang out a familiar voice. "Give th' spalpanes cold lead, an' plinty av it, Frankie! O'im wid yez!"
"Barney Mulloy!" Frank almost screamed, in joyous amazement.
"Thot's me name, an' this is me marruck!" cried the Irish lad, from the darkness.
There was a hurrying rush of feet, and then—smack! smack!—two dark figures were seen flying through the darkness as if they had been struck by battering-rams.
"Hurrah!" cheered Frank, thrusting the revolver into his pocket, and hastening to leap into the battle. "Give 'em glory, Barney!"
"Hurro!" shouted the Irish youth. "Th' United Shtates an' Ould Oireland foriver! Nothing can shtand against th' combination!"
This unexpected assault was too much for Manuel Mazaro and his satellites.
"Car-r-r-ramba!" snarled the Spaniard. "Dis treek is spoiled! We will have to try de odare one, pardnares."
"We're reddy fer yer thricks, ye shnakes!" cried Barney.
"Are you armed?" asked Frank.
"To th' muzzle wid grape-shot an' canister!" was the reply.
But the boys were not compelled to resort to deadly weapons, for the Spaniard and his gang suddenly took to their heels, and seemed to melt away in the darkness.
"Musha! musha!" gasped Barney. "Where hiv they gone, Oi dunno?"
"They've skipped."
"An' lift us widout sayin' good-avenin'?"
"So it seems."
"Th' impoloight rascals! They should be ashamed av thimsilves!"
"Barney!"
"Frankie!"
"At school you had a way of always showing up just when you were needed most, and you have not gotten over it."
"It's harrud to tache an ould dog new thricks, Frankie."
"You don't want to learn any new tricks; the old ones you know are all right. Barney, give me your hand."
"Frankie, here it is, an' I'm wid yez, me b'y, till Oi have ter lave yez, which won't be in a hurry, av Oi know mesilf."
The two lads clasped hands in the darkness of the passage.
"Now," said Frank, "to get out of this place."
"Th' sooner th' quicker."
"Which way shall we go?"
"Better go th' way we came in."
"Right, Barney. But how in the world did you happen to appear at such an opportune moment? That sticks me."
"Oi saw yez, me b'y, whin th' crowd was cheerin' fer yez, but Oi couldn't get to yez, though Oi troied me bist."
"And you followed."
"Oi did, but it's lost yez Oi would, av ye wasn't sane to come in here by thim as wur watchin' av yez."
"Which was dead lucky for me."
"Thot it wur, me darlint, unliss ye wanter to shoot th' spalpanes ye wur wid. Av they'd crowded yez, Oi reckon ye'd found a way to dispose av th' lot."
"They were about to crowd me when I fired into the air."
"An' th' flash av th' revolver showed me yer face."
"That's how you were sure it was me, is it?"
"Thot wur wan way. Fer another, Oi hearrud yer voice, an' ye don't suppose Oi wouldn't know thot av Oi should hear it astraddle av th' North Pole, do yez?"
"Well, I am sure I knew your voice the moment I heard it, and the sound gave no small amount of satisfaction."
The boys now hurried back along the narrow passage, and soon reached the doorway by which they had entered.
The procession had passed on, and the great crowd of people had melted from the street.
As soon as they were outside the passage, Barney explained that he had arrived in town that night, and had hurried to the St. Charles Hotel, but had found Professor Scotch in bed, and Frank gone.
"Th' profissor was near scared to death av me," said Barney. "He wouldn't let me in th' room till th' bellboy had described me two or thray toimes over, an' whin Oi did come in, he had his head under th' clothes, an', be me soul! I thought by th' sound that he wur shakin' dice. It wuz the tathe av him chattering togither."
Frank was convulsed with laughter, while Barney went on:
"'Profissor,' sez Oi, 'av it's doice ye're shakin', Oi'll take a hand at tin cints a corner.'"
"What did he do then?"
"He looked out at me over the edge av th' bed-sprid, an' he sez, sez he, 'Are ye sure ye're yersilf, Barney Mulloy? or are ye Colonel Sally de la Vilager'—or something av th' sort—'in disguise?'"
Frank laughed harder than before.
"What did you do then, Barney?"
"Oi looked at him, an' thot wur all Oi said. Oi didn't know what th' mon mint, an' he samed to be too broke up to tell. Oi asked him where yo wur, an' he said ye'd gone out to see th' parade. Whin Oi found out thot wur all Oi could get out av him, Oi came out an' looked fer yez."
When Frank had ceased to laugh, he explained the meaning of the professor's strange actions, and it was Barney's turn to laugh.
"So it's a duel he is afraid av, is it?"
"Yes."
"An' he wants a substitute?"
"Yes."
"Begobs, it's niver a duel was Oi in, but the profissor wuz koind to me at Fardale, an' it's a debt av gratitude Oi owe him, so Oi'll make me bluff."
"I do not believe Colonel Vallier will meet any one but Professor Scotch, but the professor will be too ill to meet him, so he will have to accept a substitute, or go without a fight."
"To tell ye th' truth, Frankie, Oi'd rather he'd refuse to accept, but it's an iligant bluff Oi can make."
"You're all right, Barney."
"Tell me what brought this duel aboit."
So Frank told the whole story about the rescue of the Flower Queen, the appearance of Rolf Raymond and Colonel Vallier, and how the masked girl had called his name just as they were taking her away, with the result already known to the reader.
Barney was intensely interested.
"An' thot wur her Oi saw in th' parade to-noight?"
"Yes."
"She flung ye some flowers?"
"She did. It was her crown of flowers. I still have it here, although it is somewhat crushed."
"Ah, Frankie, me b'y, it's a shly dog ye are! Th' girruls wur foriver getting shtuck on yez, an' Oi dunno what ye hiv been doin' since l'avin' Fardale. It's wan av yer mashes this must be."
"I've made no mashes, Barney."
"Not m'anin' to, perhaps, but ye can't hilp it, laddybuck, fer they will get shtuck on yez, av ye want thim to or not. Ye don't hiv ter troy to catch a girrul, Frankie."
"But I give you my word that I cannot imagine who this can be. All the curiosity in my nature is aroused, and I am determined to know her name before I rest."
"Well, b'y, Oi'm wid yez. What shall we do?"
"Go to the place where the Krewe of Proteus holds its ball."
"Lade on."
As both were strangers in New Orleans, they did not know how to make the shortest cut to the ballroom, and Frank found it impossible to obtain a carriage. They were delayed most exasperatingly, and, when they arrived at the place where the ball was to be held, the procession had broken up, and the Queen of Flowers was within the ballroom.
"This is most unfortunate!" cried Frank, in dismay. "I meant to get here ahead of the procession, so that I could speak to her before she got inside."
"Well, let's go in an' spake to her now."
"We can't."
"Whoy not?"
"This is a very exclusive affair."
"An' we're very ixclusive paple."
"Only those having invitations can enter the ballroom."
"Is thot so? Thin it's outsoide we're lift. What can we do about thot?"
"Nothing."
"Is it too late to git invoitations?"
"They can't be bought, like tickets."
"Well, what koind av a shindig do ye call this, Oi dunno?"
Barney was thoroughly disgusted.
Frank explained that Professor Scotch had been able to procure invitations, but neither of them had fancied they would care to attend the ball, so the opportunity had been neglected.
"Whinever Oi can get something fer nothing, Oi take it," said Barney. "It's a use Oi can make fer most things Oi get."
The two boys lingered outside the building. Frank hoped the Flower Queen would come out, and he would be able to speak to her before she entered a carriage and was carried away.
Sweet strains of music floated down to the ears of the restless lads, and, with each passing moment, Frank grew more and more disgusted with himself.
"To think that I might be in there—might be waltzing with the Queen of Flowers at this moment, if I had asked the professor to obtain the invitations!" he cried.
"It's harrud luck!" said Barney; "but ye'll know betther next toime."
"Next time will be too late. In some way, I must meet this girl and speak to her. I must, and I will!"
"That's th' shtuff, me b'y! Whiniver ye say anything loike thot, ye always git there wid both fate. Oi'll risk yez."
Two men in dress suits came out to smoke and get a breath of air. They stood conversing within a short distance of the boys.
"She has been the sensation of the day," said one. "The whole city is wondering who she is."
"She seems determined to remain a mystery."
"Yes, for she has vanished from the ballroom in a most unaccountable manner. No one saw her take her departure."
"Not even Rolf Raymond."
"No. He is as much mystified as anybody. The fellow knows her, but he positively refuses to disclose her identity."
Frank's hand had fallen on Barney's arm with a grip of iron, and the fingers were sinking deeper and deeper into the Irish lad's flesh as these words fell on their ears.
"It is said that the young fellow who saved her from the steer to-day does not know her."
"No. She saw him in the crowd to-night, and flung him her crown, calling him a hero. He was nearly mobbed by the crowd, that was determined to know his name, but he escaped in some way, and has not been seen since."
"That settles it!" Frank hissed in Barney's ear. "They are speaking of the Flower Queen."
"Sure," returned the Irish lad; "an' av yersilf, Frankie, b'y."
"She is no longer in the ballroom."
"No."
"We are wasting our time waiting here."
"Roight ye are."
"Then we will wait no longer. Come, we'll go to the hotel."
Barely were they in their apartments at the hotel when there came a knock on the door, and a boy entered, bearing a salver on which were two cards.
"Colonel La Salle Vallier and Mr. Rolf Raymond," read Frank. "Bring them up."
"What's that?" roared Professor Scotch, from the bed. "Are you crazy?"
Frank hustled the boy out of the room, whispering:
"Bring them up, and admit them without knocking."
He slipped a quarter into the boy's hand, and the little fellow grinned and hurried away.
Frank turned back to find Professor Scotch, in his night robe, standing square in the middle of the bed, wildly waving his arms, and roaring:
"Lock the door—barricade it—keep them out! If those desperadoes are admitted here, this room will run red with gore!"
"That's right, professor," agreed Frank. "We'll settle their hash right here and at once. We'll cook 'em."
"Whoop!" shouted the little professor, in his big, hoarse voice. "This is murder—assassination! Lock the door, I say! I am in no condition to receive visitors."
"Be calm, professor," chirped Frank, soothingly.
"Be calm, profissor," echoed Barney, serenely.
"Be calm!" bellowed the excited little man. "How can I be calm on the eve of murder and assassination? I am an unarmed man, and I am not even dressed!"
"Niver moind a little thing loike thot," purred the Irish lad.
"It's of no consequence," declared Frank, placidly.
"No consequence!" shouted Scotch. "Oh, you'll drive me crazy! You want me to be killed! It is a plot to have me murdered! I see through the vile scheme! I'll call the police!"
He rushed into the front room, and flung up a window, from which he howled:
"Fire! Police!"
He would have shrieked murder and several other things, but Frank and Barney dragged him back and closed the window.
"Great Scott!" gasped Frank. "It'll be a wonder if the whole police force of the city does not come rushing up here."
"Perhaps they'll not be able to locate th' spot from which th' croy came," said Barney. "Let us hope not."
"Yes, let us hope not."
The professor squirmed out of the grasp of the two boys, and made a wild dash for the door.
Just before he reached it, the door was flung open, and Colonel Vallier, followed by Rolf Raymond, strode into the room.
The colonel and the professor met just within the doorway.
The collision was violent, and both men recoiled and sat down heavily upon the floor, while Rolf Raymond barely saved himself from falling astride the colonel's neck.
Sitting thus, the two men glared at each other, the colonel being in a dress suit, while the professor wore a night robe.
Frank and Barney could not restrain their laughter.
Then a most remarkable thing happened.
Professor Scotch became so angry at what he considered the unwarranted intrusion of the visitors that he forgot how he was dressed, forgot to be scared, and grew fierce as a raging lion. Without rising, he leaned forward, and shook his fist under Colonel Vallier's nose, literally roaring:
"What do you mean by entering this room without knocking, you miserable old blowhard? You ought to have your face thumped, and, by thunder! I believe I can do it!"
"Sah!" gasped the colonel, in the greatest amazement and dismay.
"Don't 'sah' me, you measly old fraud!" howled Scotch, waving his fists in the air. "I don't believe in fighting, butthis is about my time to scrap. If you don't apologize for the intrusion, may I be blown to ten thousand fragments if I don't give you a pair of beautiful black eyes!"
"Sah, there seems to be some mistake, sah," fluttered Colonel Vallier, turning pale.
"You made the mistake!" thundered Scotch, leaping to his feet like a jumping jack. "Get up here, and let me knock you down!"
"I decline to be struck, sah."
"You don't dare to get up!" howled the excited little man, growing still worse, as the colonel seemed to shrink and falter. "Why, I can lick you in a fraction of no time! You've been making lots of fighting talk, and now it's my turn. Get up and put up your fists."
"Will somebody kindly hold this lunatic?" palpitated Colonel Vallier. "I am no prize-fightah, gentlemen."
"That isn't my lookout," said the professor, who was forcing things while they ran his way. "Get up and take off your coat! We'll settle this affair without delay."
"With pistols, sah?"
"Yes, with pistols, if you want to!" cried the professor, to the amazement of the boys. "I am ready, sir. We will settle it with pistols, at once, in this room."
"But this is no place foh a duel, sah; yo' should know that, sah."
"This is just the place."
"The one who survives will be arrested, sah."
"There won't be a survivor, so you needn't fear arrest."
"No survivah, sah?"
"No."
"How is that?"
"I'll tell you how it is. You are such a blamed coward that you won't fight me with your fists, for fear I will give you the thumping you deserve; but you know you are a good pistol shot, and you think I am not, so you hope to shoot me, and escape without harm to yourself. Well, I am no pistol shot, but I am not going to miss you. We'll shoot across that center table, and the width of the table is the distance that will divide us. In that way, I'll stand as good a show as you do, and I'll agree to shoot you through the body very near to the heart, so you'll not linger long in agony. Come, sir, get ready."
Colonel Vallier actually staggered.
"Sah—sah!" he fluttered; "you're shorely crazy!"
"Not a bit of it. Come, get ready!"
"This is murder, sah!"
"It is a square deal. One has as good show as the other."
"But I—I never heard of such a duel—never!"
"There are many things you have never heard about, Colonel Vallier."
"But, sah, I can't fight that way! You'll have to excuse me, sah."
"What's that!" howled the little professor, dancing about in his night robe. "Do you refuse to give me satisfaction?"
"I refuse to be murdered."
"Then you'll apologize?"
The colonel gasped.
"Apologize! Why, I can't——"
"Then I'm going to give you those black eyes just as sure as my name is Scotch! Put up your fists!"
The colonel retreated, holding up his hands helplessly, while the professor pranced after him like a fighting cock.
"This is disgraceful!" snapped Rolf Raymond, taking a step, as if to interfere. "It must be stopped at once!"
"Hold on!" came sternly from Frank. "Don't chip in where you're not wanted, Mr. Raymond. Let them settle this matter themselves."
"Thot's roight, me laddybuck," said Barney Mulloy. "If you bother thim, it's a pair av black oies ye may own yersilf."
"We did not come here to be bullied."
"No," said Frank; "you came to play the bullies, and the tables have been turned on you. Take it easy."
The two boys placed themselves in such a position that they could prevent Raymond from interfering between the colonel and the professor.
"Don't strike me, sah!" gasped Vallier, holding up his open hands, with the palms toward the bantam-like professor.
"Then do you apologize?"
"You will strike me if I do not apologize?"
"You may bet your life that I will, colonel."
"Then I—ah—I'll have to apologize, sah."
"And this settles the entire affair between us?"
"Eh—I don't know about that."
"Well, you had better know. Does this settle the entire affair?"
"I suppose so, sah."
"You apologize most humbly?"
"I do."
"And you state of your own free will that this settles all trouble between us?"
The colonel hesitated, and Scotch lifted his fists menacingly.
"I do, sah—I do!" Vallier hastened to say.
"Then that's right," said Professor Scotch, airily. "You have escaped the worst thumping you ever received in all your life, and you should congratulate yourself."
Frank felt like cheering with delight. Surely Professor Scotch had done himself proud, and the termination of the affair had been quite unexpected by the boys.
Colonel Vallier seemed utterly crestfallen and subdued, but Rolf Raymond's face was dark with anger, as he harshly said:
"Now that this foolishness is over, we will proceed to business."
"That's right," bowed Frank. "The quicker you proceed the better satisfied we will be. Go ahead."
Rolf turned fiercely on Frank, almost snarling:
"You must have been at the bottom of it all! Where is she?"
Frank was astonished, as his face plainly showed.
"Where is she?" he repeated.
"Whom do you mean, sir?"
"It is useless to pretend that you do not know. You must have found an opportunity to communicate with her somehow, although how you accomplished it is more than I understand."
"You are speaking in riddles. Say what you mean, man."
"I will. If you do not immediately tell us where she is, you will find yourself in serious trouble. Is that plain enough?"
A light came to Frank.
"Do you mean the Queen of Flowers?" he eagerly asked.
"You know I mean the Queen of Flowers."
"And you do not know what has become of her?"
"How can we? She disappeared mysteriously from the ballroom. No one saw her leave, but she went."
"She must have returned to her home."
"That will not go with us, Merriwell, for we hastened to the place where she is stopping with her father, and she was not there, nor had he seen her. He cannot live long, and this blow will hasten the end. You will be responsible. Take my advice and give her up at once, unless you wish to get into trouble of a most serious nature."
Frank saw that Raymond actually believed he knew what had become of the Flower Queen.
"Look here," came swiftly from the boy's lips, "it is plain this is no time to waste words. I do not know what has become of the Flower Queen, that is straight. I did know she had disappeared from the ballroom, but I supposed she had returned to her home. I do not know her name as yet, although she knows mine. If anything has happened to her, I am not responsible; but I take a great interest in her, and I am ready and eager to be of assistance to her. Tell me her name, as that will aid me."
Rolf Raymond could not doubt Frank's words, for honesty was written on the boy's face.
"Her name," he said—"her name is—for you to learn."
His taunting laugh brought the warm blood to Frank's face.
"All right!" cried the boy from the North. "I'll learn it, no thanks to you. More than that, if she needs my aid, she shall have it. It strikes me that she may have fled of her own accord to escape being persecuted by you. If so——"
"What then?"
"We'll meet again."
"That we will! Colonel Vallier may have settled his trouble with Professor Scotch, but mine is not settled with you."
"You are right."
"We may yet meet on the field of honor."
"I shall be pleased to accommodate you," flashed Frank; "and the sooner, the better it will satisfy me."
"Thot's th' talk!" cried Barney Mulloy, admiringly. "You can do th' spalpane, Frankie, at any old thing he'll name!"
"The disappearance of Miss ——, the Flower Queen, prevents the setting of a time and place," said Raymond, passionately; "but you shall be waited on as soon as she is found. Until then I must let nothing interfere with my search for her."
"Very good; that is satisfactory to me, and I will domy best to help find her for you. Now, if your business is quite over, gentlemen, your room would give us much more pleasure than your company."
Not another word did Raymond or Vallier say, but they strode stiffly to the door and bowed themselves out. Barney closed the door after them.
Then both the boys turned on Professor Scotch, to find he had collapsed into a chair, and seemed on the point of swooning.
"Professor," cried Frank, "I want to congratulate you! That was the best piece of work you ever did in all your life."
"Profissor," exclaimed Barney, "ye're a jewil! Av inny wan iver says you lack nerve, may Oi be bitten by th' wurrust shnake in Oireland av Oi don't break his head!"
"Boys!" gasped the professor, "fan me! I can't seem to get my breath! How did I do it? It scares me to think of it."
"You were a man, professor, and you showed Colonel Vallier that you were utterly reckless. You seemed eager for a fight."
"Fight!" groaned the little man. "I couldn't fight a child! I never fought in my life. I don't know how to fight."
"Colonel Vallier didn't know that. It was plain, he believed you a desperate slugger, and he wilted immediately."
"But I can't understand how I came to do such a thing. Till their unwarranted intrusion—till I collided with the colonel—I was in terror for my life. The moment we collided I seemed to forget that I was scared, and I remembered only that I was mad."
"And you seemed more than eager for a scrap."
"Ye samed doying fer a bit av a row, profissor."
"What if he had struck me!" palpitated the little man. "Oh, gracious! It would have been terrible!"
"For him. If he'd struck you, you'd been so mad that nothing could have stopped you. You would have waded into him, and given him the worst thrashing he ever received."
"Thot's pwhat ye would, profissor, sure as fate."
Scotch began to revive, and the words of the boys convinced him that he was really a very brave man, and had done a most daring thing. Little by little, he began to swell, like a toad.
"I don't know but you're right," he said, stiffening up. "I was utterly reckless and desperate at the time."
"That's right, professor."
"Profissor, ye're a bad mon ter buck against."
"That is a fact that has not been generally known, but, having cowed one of the most desperate duelists in the South, and forced him to apologize, I presume I have a right to make some pretensions."
"That's a fact."
"Ye've made a riccord fer yersilf."
"And a record to be proud of," crowed the little man, getting on his feet and beginning to strut, forgetful of the fact that he was in his night robe and presented a most ludicrous appearance. "The events of this evening shall become a part of history. Future generations shall regard me as one of the most nervy and daring men of my age. And really, I don't know but I am. What's the use of being a coward when you can be a hero just as well. Boys, this adventure has made a different man of me. Hereafter, you will see that I'll not quail in the face of the most deadly dangers. I'll even dare to walk up to the mouth of a cannon—if I know it isn't loaded."
The boys were forced to laugh at his bantam-like appearance, but, for all of the queer twist he had given his last expression, the professor seemed very serious, and it was plain that he had begun to regard himself with admiration.
"Think, boys," he cried—"think of my offer to fight him with pistols across yonder narrow table!"
"That was a stroke of genius, professor," declared Frank. "That broke Colonel Vallier up more than anything else."
"He wilted at that."
"Of course you did not mean to actually fight him that way?"
"Well, I don't know," swelled the little man. "I was reckless then, and I didn't care for anything."
Suddenly Frank grew grave.
"This other matter they spoke of worries me," he said. "I can't understand what has happened to the Queen of Flowers."
"Ye mustn't let thot worry yez, me b'y."
"I can't help it."
"She may be home by this toime."
"And she may be in desperate need of a helping hand."
"Av she is, Oi dunno how ye can hilp her, Frankie."
"Nor do I know of any way. Why should any one kidnap her?"
"Oi dunno."
"It would be a most daring thing to do, as she is so well known; but there are daring and desperate ruffians in New Orleans."
"Oi think ye're roight, me b'y."
"It may be that she has been persecuted so that she fled of her own accord, and yet I hardly think that is true."
"No more do Oi, Frankie."
"If it is not true, surely she is in trouble."
"Well?"
"Oh, I can't remain quietly here, knowing she may need aid!"
"Pwhat will yez do?"
"I am going out."
"Where?"
"Somewhere—anywhere! Will you come along?"
"Sure, me b'y, Oi'm wid yez firrust, larrust, an' all th' toime!"
The professor declined to go out. He returned to bed, and the boys left the hotel.
"Where away, Frankie?" asked Barney.
"I don't know," replied Frank, helplessly. "There is not one chance in millions of finding the lost Flower Queen, but I feel that I must move about. We'll visit the old French quarter by night. I have been there in the daytime, and I'd like to see how it looks at night. Come on."
And so they made their way to the French quarter, crossing Canal Street and turning into a quiet, narrow way, that soon brought them to a region of architectural decrepitude.
The streets of this section were not overlighted, and seemed very silent and lonely, as, at this particular time, the greater part of the inhabitants of the quarter were away to the scenes of pleasure.
The streets echoed to theboys'feet. There were queer balconies on every hand, the stores were mere shops, all of them now closed, and many windows were nailed up. Rust and decay were on all sides, and yet there was something impressive in the almost Oriental squalor of the place.
"It sames loike we'd left th' city intoirely for another place, so it does," muttered Barney.
"That is true," admitted Frank. "New Orleans seems like a human being with two personalities. For me this is the most interesting part of the city; but commerce is beginning to crowd in here, and the time is coming when the French quarter will cease to be an attraction for New Orleans."
"D'ye think not, Frankie?"
"It is a certain thing."
"Well, we'll get our look at it before it is gone intoirely."
A few dark figures were moving silently along the streets. The night was warm, and the shutters of the balcony windows were opened to admit air.
At a corner they halted, and, of a sudden, Frank clutched the arm of his companion, whispering:
"Look—see that man?"
"Yes, me b'y."
"Did you see his face?"
"Nivver a bit."
"Well, I did, and I do not believe I am mistaken in thinking I have seen it before."
"Whin?"
"To-night."
"Pwhere?"
"In the alley where I was trapped by Manuel Mazaro and his gang."
"It wur darruk in there, Frankie."
"But I fired my revolver, and by the flash I saw a face."
"So ye soay."
"It was the face of the man who just passed beneath this light."
"An' pwhat av thot, Frankie?"
"He might lead me to Manuel Mazaro."
"Pwhat do yez want to see thot spalpane fer?"
"Mazaro knows a good deal."
"Fer instance, pwhat?"
"Why I was attacked, and the object of the attack. He might be induced to tell."
"It sure wur a case av intinded robbery, me b'y."
"Perhaps so, perhaps not. But he knows more. He knows all about Rolf Raymond and Colonel Vallier."
"Well?"
"Rolf Raymond and Colonel Vallier know a great deal about the lost Flower Queen. It is possible Mazaro knows something of her. Come on, Barney; we'll follow that man."
"Jist as ye say, me lad."
"Take the other side of the street, and keep him in sight, but do not seem to be following him."
They separated, and both kept in sight of the man, who did not seem to fear pursuit or dream any one was shadowing him.
He led them straight to an antiquated story and a half Creole cottage, shaded by a large willow tree, the branches of which touched the sides and swept the round tiles of the roof. The foliage of the old tree half concealed the discolored stucco, which was dropping off in many places.
Over the door was a sign which announced that it was a café. The door was open, and, in the first room could be seen some men who were eating and drinking at a table. There was another room beyond.
The man the boys had followed entered the cottage, passed through the first room, speaking to the men at the table, and disappeared into the room beyond.
Frank and Barney paused outside.
"Are yez goin' to folly him, Frankie, b'y?" asked the Irish lad.
"To be sure I am."
"There's no tellin' pwhat koind av a nest ye will get inther."
"I'll have to take my chances on that."
"Thin Oi'm wid yez."
"No, I want you to remain outside, so you will be on hand in case I need air."
"How'll I know ye nade it?"
"You'll hear me cry or shoot."
"Av Oi do, you'll see Barney Mulloy comin' loike a cyclone."
"I know I may depend on you, and I know this may be a nest of assassins. These Spaniards are hot-blooded fellows, and they make dangerous rascals."
Frank looked at his revolver, to make sure it was in perfect working order, dropped it into the side pocket of his coat, and walked boldly into the cottage café.
The men in the front room stared at him in surprise, but he did not seem to give them a glance, walking straight through into the next room.
There he saw two Spanish-looking fellows talking in low tones over a table, on which drinks were setting.
One of them was the man he had followed.
They were surprised to see the boy coolly walk into the room, and advance without hesitation to their table.
The one Frank had followed seemed to recognize the lad, and he appeared startled and somewhat alarmed.
With the greatest politeness, Frank touched his cap, asking:
"Señor, do you know Manuel Mazaro?"
The fellow scowled, and hesitated, and then retorted:
"What if I do?"
"I want to see him."
"And you have come here for that?"
"Yes."
"I will see if he be here. Wait."
At one side of the room was a door, opening on a dark flight of stairs. Through this doorway and up the stairs the fellow disappeared.
Frank sat down at the table, feeling the revolver in the side pocket of his coat.
The other man did not attempt to make any conversation.
In a few minutes the one who had ascended the stairs reappeared.
"Señor Mazaro will soon be down," he announced.
Then he sat at the table, and resumed conversation with his companion, speaking in Spanish, and not even seeming to hear the "thank you" from Frank.
It was not long before Mazaro appeared, and he came forward without hesitation, smiling serenely, as if delighted to see the boy.
"Oh, señor!" he cried, "yo' be not harm in de scrape what we run into?"
"I was not harmed, no, thanks to you, Mazaro," said the boy, coolly. "It is a wonder that I came out with a whole skin."
"Señor, you do not blame me fo' dat? I deed not know-a it—I deed not know-a de robbares were there."
"Mazaro, you are a very good liar, but it will not work with me."
The Spaniard showed his teeth, and fell back a step.
"De young señor speak-a ver' plain," he said.
"It is my way. Mazaro, we may as well understand each other first as last. You are a scoundrel, and you're out for the dollars. Now, it is possible you can make more money by serving me than in any other way. If you can help me, I will pay you well."
Mazaro looked ready to sink a knife into Frank's hearta moment before, but he suddenly thawed. With the utmost politeness, he said:
"I do not think-a I know what de señor mean. If he speak-a litt'l plainer, mebbe I ondarstan'."
"Sit down, Mazaro."
The Spaniard took a seat at the table.
"Now," said Frank, quietly, "order what you wish to drink, and I will pay for it. I never drink myself, and I never carry much money with me nights, but I have enough to pay for your drink."
"De señor is ver' kind," bowed Manuel, and he ordered a drink, which was brought by a villainous-looking old woman.
Frank paid, and, when Mazaro was sipping the liquid, he leaned forward and said:
"Señor Mazaro, you know Rolf Raymond?"
"Si, señor."
"And Colonel Vallier?"
"Si, señor."
"And the Queen of Flowers?"
"I know of her, señor; I see her to-day."
"You know more. She has disappeared, and you know what has become of her."
It was a chance shot, but Frank saw it went home.
Mazaro changed color, and then he regained his composure.
"Señor," he said, smoothly, "I know-a not what made you t'ink dat."
"I do not think; I know."
"Wondareful—ver' wondareful," purred the Spaniard, in mock admiration. "You give-a me great s'prise."
Frank was angry, but he held himself in restraint, appearing cool.
"Your face betrayed it."
"Ah! Dat show yo' have-a ver' gre't eye, señor."
"You do not deny it?"
"Why should I do dat when you know-a so much?"
"You dare not deny it."
"Dare, señor? I dare ver' many thing you do not know."
Mazaro was exasperatingly cool.
"Look here, man," said Frank, leaning toward the Spaniard; "are you aware that you may get yourself into serious trouble? Are you aware that kidnaping is an offense that makes you a criminal of the worst sort, and for which you might be sent up for twenty years, at least?"
The Spaniard smiled.
"It is eeze to talk, but dat is not proof," he said.
"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the boy, his anger getting the better of him for the moment. "I have a mind to convey my suspicions to the police, and then——"
"An' den what, señor? Ah! you talk ver' bol' fo' boy like you. Do you know-a what? Well, see; if I snappa my fingare, quick like a flash you get a knife 'tween your shouldares. Den you not tell-a the police."
Frank could not repress a shiver. He looked swiftly around, and saw the black eyes of the other two men werefastened upon him, and he knew they were ready to obey Mazaro's signal.
"W'at yo' t'ink-a, señor?" smiled Manuel, insolently.
"That is very well," came calmly from Frank's lips. "If I were to give the signal my friends would rush in here to my aid. If you stab me, make sure the knife goes through my heart with the first stroke, so there will be little chance that I'll cry out."
"Den you have-a friends near, ha? I t'ink so mebbe. Call-a dem in."
"No, thank you. They will remain outside till they are needed."
"Ver' well. Now we undarestan' each odder. Yo' have-a some more to say?"
"Yes."
"Say him."
"I have told you that you might find it profitable to serve me."
"I hear dat."
"I meant it."
"W'at yo' want done?"
"No dirty work—no throat-cutting. I want information."
"Ha! W'at yo' want-a know?"
"I want to know who the Queen of Flowers is."
"Any more?"
"Yes; I want to know where she is, and you can tell me."
"Yo' say dat, but yo' can't prove it. I don't say anyt'ing, señor. 'Bo't how much yo' pay fo' that info'mation, ha?"
"Good money, and a fair price."
"Fair price notting; I want good-a price. Undarestand-a?"
"I understand."
"W'at yo' gif?"
"To know where she is? A hundred dollars."
Mazaro smiled scornfully.
"Dat notting. Yo' don' talk de biz. Yo' don' have-a de mon' enough."
"Wait," urged Frank. "I am a Yankee, from the North, and I will make a trade with you."
"All-a right, but I don't admit I know anyt'ing."
Manuel leaned back in his chair, lazily and deftly rolling a cigarette, which he lighted. Frank watched this piece of business, thinking of the best manner of approaching the fellow.
And then something happened that electrified every one within the café.
Somewhere above there came the sound of blows, and a crashing, splintering sound, as of breaking wood. Then a shriek ran through the building.
"Help! Help! Save me!"
It was the voice of a female in great terror and distress.
Mazaro ground a curse through his white teeth, and leaped to his feet, but Frank was on his feet quite as quickly.
Smack! Frank's arm had shot out, and his hard fist struck the Spaniard under the ear, sending the fellow flying through the air and up against the wall with terrible force. From the wall Mazaro dropped, limp and groaning, to the floor.
Like a flash, the nervy youth flung the table against the downcast wretch's companions, making them reel.
Then Frank leaped toward the stairs, up which he bounded like a deer.
"Where are you?" he cried. "I am here to help you! Call again!"
No answer.
Near the head of the stairs a light shone out through a broken panel in a door, and on this door Frank knew the blows he had heard must have fallen.
Within this room the boy fancied he could hear sounds of a desperate struggle.
Behind him the desperadoes were rallying, cursing hoarsely, and crying to each other. They were coming, and the lad on the stairs knew they would come armed to the teeth.
All the chivalry in his nature was aroused. His bloodwas leaping and tingling in his veins, and he felt able to cope with a hundred foes.
Straight toward the broken door he leaped, and his hand found the knob, but it refused to yield at his touch.
"Fast!" he panted. "Well, I'll try this!"
He hurled himself against the door, but it remained firm.
There were feet on the stairs; the desperadoes were coming.
At that moment he looked into the room through the break in the panel, and he saw a girl struggling with all her strength in the hands of a man. The man was trying to hold a hand over her mouth to keep her from crying out again, while a torrent of angry Spanish words poured in a hissing sound from his bearded lips.
As Frank looked the girl tore the fellow's hand from her lips, and her cry for help again rang out.
The wretch lifted his fist to strike her senseless, but the blow did not fall.
Frank was a remarkably good shot, and his revolver was in his hand. That hand was flung upward to the opening in the panel, and he fired into the room.
The burst of smoke kept him from seeing the result of the shot, but he heard a hoarse roar of pain from the man, and he knew he had not missed.
He had fired at the fellow's wrist, and the bullet had shattered it.
But now the ruffians who were coming furiously up the stairs demanded his attention.
"Halt!" he shouted. "Stop where you are, or I shall open fire on you!"
He could see them, and he saw the foremost lift his hand. Then there was a burst of flame before Frank's eyes, and he staggered backward, feeling a bullet near his cheek.
Not till that moment did he realize what a trap he was in, and how desperate was his situation.
"It is a fight for life!" he muttered, as he lifted his revolver.
The smell of burned powder was in his nostrils, the fire of battle gleamed from his eyes.
The weapon in Frank's hand spoke again, and once more he found his game, for the leading ruffian, having almost reached the head of the stairs, flung up his arms, with a gurgling sound, and toppled backward upon those who were following.
Down the stairs they all tumbled, falling in a heap at the bottom, where they struggled, squirmed, and shouted.
"So far everything is very serene!" half laughed the daring boy. "This has turned out to be a real lively night."
Frank was a lad who never deliberately sought danger for danger's sake, but when his blood was aroused, he entirely forgot to be afraid, and he felt a wild thrill of joy when in the greatest peril.
For the time, he had entirely forgotten the existence of Barney Mulloy, but now he remembered that the Irish lad had waited outside the cottage café.
"He has heard the rumpus," said Frank, aloud. "I wonder where Barney can be?"
"Whist, be aisy, me lad!" retorted the familiar voice of the Irish youth. "Oi'm wid yez to th' ind!"
Barney was close behind Frank!
"How in the world did you get here?" cried our hero, in great astonishment.
"Oi climbed the tray, me b'y."
"The tree? What tree?"
"Th' willey tray as shtands forninst th' corner av th' house, Frankie."
"But that does not explain how you came here at my side."
"There was a windy open, an' Oi shlipped in by th' windy."
"Well, you're a dandy, Barney!"
"An' ye're a birrud, Frankie. What koind av a muss hiv ye dhropped into now, Oi'd loike ter know?"
"A regular ruction. I heard a girl shout for help, and I knocked over two or three chaps, Mazaro included, on my way to her aid."
"Where is she now, b'y?"
"In here," said Frank, pointing through the brokenpanel. "She is the missing Queen of Flowers! There she is, Barney! See here!"
Then Frank obtained a fair look at the girl's face, staggered, clutched Barney, and shouted:
"Look! By heavens! It is not strange she knew me, for we both know her! She is Inza Burrage!"