CHAPTER V.FRANK IN A QUANDARY.

CHAPTER V.FRANK IN A QUANDARY.

Wondering greatly over what had happened, and not a little troubled thereat, Frank Merriwell returned to the hotel. The singular appearance of the Mystery in Paris, the remarkable behavior of Browning, the turning up of Brattle, the encounter in the café, and the rescue by Mr. Noname were events of an order to fill him with astonishment. It is a credit to Frank that the behavior of Browning troubled him more than anything else. It had not seemed possible that big, good-natured Bruce would turn against Frank for a little thing like a harmless practical joke; but, when Merry thought over the talk in the Place de la Concorde, and Browning’s manner, he was led to confess to himself that it might be that Bruce was actually too angry for reason.

“He’ll be sorry for it,” thought Frank. “He must have known I followed him to that café, and he dodged out by the back way, as I entered that darkened room where those ruffians were. I saw him departing.”

Then he thought of the sound of blows echoing along the passage, the crash, and the groans. He had found the door broken down, but it had told him nothing.

But the giant who appeared in the darkened room, and struck him down—who was that? He knew it had looked just like Browning, but it was not Browning, for nothing could have led the big fellow to such dastardly work.

“I’ll find Bruce back at the hotel,” Merry told himself. “He will laugh at me for the chase he has given me.”

He hurried his footsteps. His brain was in a whirl. The mystery of the Man Without a Name was enough to bewilder him, and that, added to the other things that had happened, put him in a maze. And, only a few short hours before, he had promised himself that his visit in Paris was to be quiet and uneventful!

When he reached the hotel, he found Jack and Harry watching for him. They plied him with questions, but he answered nothing till he had asked:

“Is Bruce here?”

“We have seen nothing of him,” they declared.

“He must be here,” insisted Frank.

“It’s strange we have not seen him, if he returned.”

They looked for him, but he was not in his room, nor could he be found about the hotel. Frank threw himself upon a chair, and stared at the floor, with a troubled look.

“What’s the matter?” asked Diamond. “Hanged if you don’t look as if you’d been in a scrimmage!”

“I have,” said Merry quietly.

“What?”

Both lads stared at him.

“Kit your quidding—I mean quit your kidding!” spluttered Harry.

“I am not kidding,” assured Merry. “I have been in one of the hottest scraps of my life.”

Then he told them about it, and they listened with growing amazement. When he told them of the appearance of Brattle, both lads leaped to their feet.

“That fellow here?” shouted the Virginian.

“Poly hoker!” panted Rattleton. “Have you been having a pipe-dream, Merry?”

“It’s no dream. Mart Brattle is in Paris. He has followed me here, thinking to get hold of Elsie Bellwood.”

“But Elsie is in London.”

“He didn’t know it. He thought she came to Paris at the same time we came.”

“Well, it was a most unfortunate thing when that thug escaped being killed in London!” cried Diamond.

“It would have been no great loss to the world,” confessed Frank; “but he did escape, and he is here. But for Mr. Noname, Brattle’s gang must have downed me in the end. That man appeared at just the right moment to pull me out of the scrape.”

“And stood the ruffians off with a bomb?” said Rattleton.

“A bomb that was no bomb at all,” smiled Frank, amused by the recollection.

“No bomb?”

“How was that?”

Frank explained, causing Jack and Harry to collapse.

“That’s the greatest trick I ever heard of!” exclaimed the Virginian in admiration. “I’ll never again say anything about Mr. Noname. A man who can do a thing like that is all right.”

They talked over all that had happened. It was very remarkable, and created no end of discussion. Diamond alone thought it possible Browning had been in earnest. Rattleton could not conceive that Bruce would remain offended, and Frank had felt all along that the big fellow would come round.

“But he’s shown what he’s made of,” said Jack.

“And you would have taken it just as much to heart, if you had been in his place,” said Harry. “You are a poor fellow to take a joke.”

Jack flushed.

“When I know it’s a joke, I can take it,” he asserted.

Tutor Maybe appeared at this juncture, and began to talk with Frank about his studies; but Merry was in no mood to discuss such matters then, and he promptly said so.

“To-morrow, or the day after, will be time enough,” he said. “Don’t bother me now. I have enough on my mind.”

It was not considered advisable to alarm the tutor by telling him of Frank’s adventure, and Maybe was left to fret and worry as much as he liked, while the boys went out to look after Bruce. The day passed, and Browning failed to return. As evening drew on, Frank grew restless and anxious. He could not think that the big fellow was remaining away out of pique or anger, and he began to fear, despite the remembered assurance of Mr. Noname, that some thing had happened to Bruce.

Again and again he thought of the strange hammering at the door in the passage of the queer café, the crash, and the groans. At last, for all of any danger he might encounter, he resolved to visit the place again. From his trunk Merry took out a revolver, which he carefully loaded. Diamond and Rattleton watched him with curiosity, not to say anxiety.

“Where are you going?” the Virginian asked, after awhile.

“To the dive where I had the little scrap,” declared Frank.

“No, not there?”

“Yes, right there.”

Jack rose.

“Come, Rattleton,” he said; “we must get our shooting-irons.”

“What do you intend to do?” asked Merry.

“Go with you,” asserted Diamond grimly.

“You bet!” nodded Harry, with satisfaction. “If you are going back into that hornets’ nest, we’ll be right with you. But why don’t you notify the police, and——”

“Be notified to keep away from the place? Excuse me,” said Frank grimly. “I do not care for the French police in mine. But, with a gun at hand, I’ll be able to take care of myself.”

“With Rattleton and myself at hand, you’ll be better able to take care of yourself, and so we are going along,” said Jack, as he marched out of the room.

Jack and Harry armed themselves, and announced to Frank that they were ready. The trio started out, prepared for any kind of an adventure they might encounter.

“If I knew where to find Mr. Noname now,” said Merry. “But it’s more than even money he will find me, if I run my nose into any danger. He always pops up at the right moment.”

The lights were beginning to twinkle when they turned into the crooked little street, and approached the café where Frank had met with his adventure. Merry strode along, with swinging step, seeming anxious to reach the place as soon as possible. When they came in front of the narrow little door, a white-aproned old man was lighting the gas within. As they entered, they saw men sitting at the tables, eating, drinking, and smoking, while white-aproned waiters served them.

Frank had made sure of the place, but, somehow, it did not seem quite the same by gaslight. The door to the back room was open, and Merry advanced, without hesitation, to it. He expected that he would be denied admittance, but, to his astonishment, no one asked him for “the sign,” and he stepped into the room, where the tables were covered by cloths, and a few rather respectable-looking old men were drinking and smoking, as they chatted in the seclusion of the place.

More dazed than ever, Frank looked round the place, and it seemed quite unfamiliar, save that there was a door just where he felt certain the entrance to the passage must be. Two long steps took him to the door, but it was fastened, and refused to move at his touch. The old men looked at him in surprise. A waiter came up, and mildly asked what he wanted. Everything seemed so quiet and peaceful there that he wondered if he could be dreaming. By day, the place had been dark and sinister, filled with human tigers; by night, it was alight, and seemed in every way a respectable café.

Frank’s companions observed the bewildered look on his face, and they wondered if he had made a blunder.

“What does monsieur want?” again asked the waiter.

“I want to see the proprietor,” said Frank boldly, speaking in most excellent French. “It is important. Tell him that I must see him at once.”

“Yes, monsieur.”

The waiter bowed low, and departed. After a little, he returned with a gentlemanly looking man, who had a white mustache and imperial, and carried himself with a military air.

“Monsieur,” said the waiter to Frank, “this is M. Delambre.”

M. Delambre bowed in a most courteous manner.

“And what favor may I have the honor of doing you, gentlemen?” he asked suavely.

“I was here this afternoon,” said Frank, speaking boldly and to the point.

“And you return again to-night,” smiled M. Delambre in a flattered manner. “That speaks well for the manner in which you were entertained. Accept my thanks.”

“Oh, I was well entertained!” exclaimed Frank. “It was in this room, too. Here I came, alone and a stranger, and here I was set upon by a pack of ruffians, from whom I barely escaped with my life!”

M. Delambre seemed thunderstruck. He started back, and stared at Merry, one hand uplifted.

“Monsieur,” he cried gently, “what are you saying? Are you mad? Or are you jesting, after the manner of some foreigners?”

“I am neither, M. Delambre; I am speaking the truth, as you must know.”

“Be careful, sir. I have a respectable place here, and I cannot afford to have my business ruined.”

“Your place seems respectable enough now, but it was filled with ruffians this afternoon. In this very room, I fought a band of them, and they came near doing me up. Now, M. Delambre, I have some questions to ask you, and it is best that you answer them.”

The Frenchman drew himself up haughtily.

“Sir, you are insulting!” he said harshly. “I can prove by a hundred persons that my house is thoroughly respectable, and I will permit no one to injure me by such stories. I advise you to leave here at once, or I will call in the gendarmes!”

“Call them, if you like,” said Merry, with perfect coolness. “I do not believe you care to attract attention to yourself and your place.”

M. Delambre made a gesture of despair.

“You foreigners—you Englishmen!” he cried. “It is useless to argue with you!”

Frank did not fancy being called an Englishman, and he told the Frenchman as much.

“I am an American, and in America we have a way of coming straight to the point. Now, see here, M. Delambre, I do not wish to make you any trouble, but I am trying to find out something about a friend whom I followed into this place. He has disappeared.”

The Frenchman held up both hands, a look of horror on his face.

“Monsieur,” he cried, “do you mean to add that I know something about the disappearance of your friend? That is still worse! You have added to the insult! I beg you to leave my place at once, or I shall be forced to call my waiters, and have you ejected!”

“Now, see here, sir,” came grimly from Merry, “I advise you to go slow about this ejecting business! I don’t think you can summon enough waiters to eject my friends and myself.”

“Let him try it!” exclaimed Diamond.

“Do let him try it!” urged Rattleton.

Both of Frank’s friends looked very eager for a scrimmage, and the proprietor of the café showed still further agitation. Again Frank plied him with questions, but now he took another turn, relapsing into grim silence, shrugging his shoulders, sneering, and scowling. It was useless to coax, or threaten, or cajole. M. Delambre closed up like a clam, and nothing could they learn from him.

“Better make a complaint to the authorities, Merry,” suggested Diamond. “Better have the joint placed under surveillance.”

Frank did not fancy being baffled in such a manner, but he realized that his efforts were wasted. Some of the waiters came and stood near, scowling at the three lads, which made Diamond long for a pitched battle. Rattleton, also, expressed an “itching” to punch a few heads.

Merry knew better than to create a disturbance there then, and so he was forced to beat a retreat, giving over the effort to obtain any information concerning Browning. When they were outside, he turned, and surveyed the front of the place closely.

“I suppose you are sure you’re right?” asked Jack. “This is the place?”

“Beyond a doubt,” declared Frank. “There are some clever rascals in there, and M. Delambre is chief of them all.”

But Merry was more downcast over the outcome of the affair than he cared to let his friends know.

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