Barney and Hans did not turn up on the following morning as soon as
Frank expected they would, and as he had forgotten to ask where they
boarded, he could not go to find them.
Merriwell had spent a restless, almost a sleepless night. But, although
his face was pale, he seemed as full of energy as ever.
He had conceived a plan by which, with Barney's aid, he fancied he might
find Inza. But Barney--where was he?
It was past nine o'clock when the Irish lad came tearing up to the
hotel, followed by Hans, who was puffing and blowing like a porpoise,
his eyes bulging from his head, his face expressing the wildest
excitement.
"Frankie!" gasped Barney.
"Vrankie!" panted Hans.
"What is it?" asked Frank, seeing something unusual had happened.
"It's news, we hiv', me b'y!"
"Yah! id vas news we haf!"
"News!" exclaimed Frank, "what sort of news? Have you found Inza?"
"It's not found her yit we hiv', me b'y, but we'll foind her soon, or
Oi'll ate me boots!"
"Yah! and I shall make a square meal mit mine coat off!"
Frank grasped Barney by the shoulder.
"You have found a clew--is that it? Why didn't you come to me sooner?"
"Begorra, it's a bit loait we stayed up last night, Frankie, an' Oi
overslipt this morning. As for this Dutch chase, he nivver would, wake
up at all, at all, av it wur not fer me. He would slape roight on fer a
wake."
"Oxscuce me," said Hans. "No wake in mine. Vhat you took me for--an
Irishmans, aind't id?"
"Tell me what it is you have found out," cried Frank, sharply.
With frantic haste Barney tore something from his pocket and waved it
wildly in the air.
"Here it is, me b'y!" he shouted.
"Yah, thar it vas!" squealed Hans.
"What is it? Give it to me!" commanded Frank.
Then he snatched the object from Barney's hands.
It was a letter.
"Inza's writing!" said Frank, hoarsely, as he glanced at it. "I would
know it anywhere! A letter to you, Barney! When did you receive this?"
"In th' mornin' mail, me b'y, afther Oi got up. So ye say it is well Oi
overslipt mysilf, or Oi would not have bin there to recave th' mail whin
it was delivered."
The envelope had been torn open in a ragged manner, showing Barney had
opened it with great haste.
Frank lost no time in drawing forth the letter. In a moment he was
reading it. It ran as follows:
"_Dear Barney_: I am writing this on the sly, hoping to find an
opportunity to mail it to you. I am to be taken from the city in
the morning by my father and this horrid Lord Stanford. How I
despise him! But he seems to have plenty of money, and father is
all taken up with him. Somehow, I fancy he has not as much money
as he pretends to have. I am sure he thinks me an heiress,
although I have told him a hundred times I am not. Father,
however, has caused him to think we are very well to do,
financially, and that is enough to lead the scheming scoundrel
on. It seems to make no difference to him when I tell him how
much I dislike him. He simply laughs and says I will get over
that by and by when we are married. That will never be. I would
not marry him if he were the last man in the world--so there!
"But I am forgetting to tell you what I started to say. Lord
Stanford has bought a yacht, and he is going to take us away on
it to-morrow morning. I have refused to go. Father says I must.
Oh, dear! I wish I had some one who could help me escape from
this horrid Englishman. If Frank Merriwell were here--dear old
Frank! I could call on him. Oh, what would I give to see him
now? But he is far away--so far away.
"If I could get another good chance, I would run away. I may get
a chance. I am afraid you cannot help me again, for you have
been watched. To-night I heard Lord Stanford tell father where
you were, and that is how I know your address.
"Stanford's yacht is somewhere out toward North Beach or Black
Point. I know this from overhearing his talk with father. In the
morning, unless I am fortunate enough to give them the slip, he
will take me on board for the cruise. Where they are going I do
not know. Oh, if you could aid me to get away from them once
more; but I know it is too much to ask you to try this again. If
I had been able to reach my aunt in Sacramento, I think she
would have persuaded father to drop his scheme of marrying me to
Lord Stanford.
"Good-by, Barney. You were always Frank's stanchest friend and
admirer, and that is why I have thought so much of you and
trusted you so fully. Dear Frank, where can he be? Oh, wouldn't
he give it to this horrid Englishman if he were here and knew
the truth? He would not be afraid of a hundred Lord Stanfords.
He never was afraid of anything in his life! I dreamed of him
last night, and I thought he had come to aid me. When I awakened
and found it was only a dream, I cried myself to sleep again.
"Oh, Barney! father came so near catching me writing this letter
just now! I was barely able to conceal it from him in time. He
asked me what I was doing, and I fibbed by saying, 'nothing at
all, father.' He was so suspicious, and I am taking desperate
chances in adding these few lines. I shall try to bribe the bell
boy to post this letter for me, and I hope it will reach you all
right. Farewell, _Inza_."
To the astonishment of both Barney and Hans the reading of this letter
did not seem to excite Frank at all. There was a slight movement of the
muscles of his face when Inza mentioned him, but that was all.
When he had finished, he folded the letter quickly and put it into his
pocket.
"Barney," he said, sharply, "order a cab without delay. Have it at the
door in five minutes."
"All right, me b'y!" cried Barney, and he made a rush to obey,
Frank disappeared in the other direction, and Hans was left alone.
"Well, I vender vere I vas at," said the Dutch boy, as he stared around
him in a bewildered manner. "Vat vas it Vrankie's going to done alretty
yet? It don't took him more than vive hours to make oop his mind he vas
going to do someding. I pet me your life he yas going to git after dot
Lord Stanford like a kioodle dog after a pone."
Before five minutes had passed Frank came rushing from the hotel and
found Barney waiting at the door, while the cab was standing near the
curb.
"Here yes are, me b'y," cried the Irish lad.
"Good!" exclaimed Frank, with satisfaction.
Then he addressed the driver.
"How far is it to North Beach?" he asked.
"Two miles, sir," was the answer.
"Can you make it in twenty minutes?"
"I doubt it, sir."
"Here is five dollars," said Frank, handing the driver the money. "Get
me to North Beach in twenty minutes and you shall have five more."
The man seized the money eagerly, and then asked:
"What part of North Beach do you want to go to, Sir?"
"I don't know," confessed Merry.
The driver looked surprised.
"Don't know!" he exclaimed in a puzzled way. "Well, that is strange."
"Is Black Point anywhere near North Beach?" asked Frank, hurriedly.
"Sure," nodded the driver.
"Then take us out that way," ordered Frank, as he bundled Barney into
the cab, followed himself and slammed the door.
The driver whipped up his horses, and away they went with a
rattlety-bump just as Hans came waddling out of the hotel, crying for
them to hold on.
Frank looked at his watch.
"Five minutes of ten," he said. "We shall get there at a quarter after
ten. Even that may be too late."
"Howly Mowses!" exclaimed Barney. "It's the divvil's own rush ye do be
in, an' ye don't same to be in a hurry, ayther. But how are we going to
foind Lord Stanford's yacht, afther we get there, Frankie? Oi'd loike to
have yez explain."
"That's something--I can't tell--yet," acknowledged Frank, as the cab
dashed around a corner and pitched them into a heap against one side.
"We'll have to--hunt for--it."
"Musha! musha!" gasped the Irish lad. "It's a sure thing thot droiver
manes to earn the other foive dollars."
For Barney it was a somewhat exciting ride at first, as the street was
filled with cars, carriages and trucks, each one of which seemed trying
to get to some destination regardless of all the others. In and out,
here and there, dodging in front of a car, narrowly missing the wheel of
a truck, slinking through a narrow space between two heavy teams,
turning to the right, turning to the left, on rattled the cab. The boys
were thrown about as if they had been seated in a small boat that was at
the mercy of an angry sea.
At length the streets were less obstructed, and the driver made greater
speed. He wielded the whip mercilessly.
"This is fun aloive," gasped Barney. "Oi'll not hiv' a whole bone in me
body whin Oi git there."
Frank said nothing, but looked at his watch, after which he nodded in a
satisfied manner.
"Is it fast enough fer yez--we are going--Frankie?" asked Barney, with a
bit of sarcasm in his voice.
"If it is only two miles to North Beach we will get there in less than
fifteen minutes," said Frank.
"But it's did we may be whin we arroive, me b'y."
Crack! crack! crack! sounded the driver's whip, each snap being like the
report of a pistol. Clatter! clatter! co-lat-ter! sounded the hoofs of
the galloping horses.
"Oi've played football a little in me loife," said Barney, as he picked
himself up from the bottom of the cab, only to be thrown down again with
greater violence, "but Oi'll admit this takes th' cake. Football is not
in it, at all, at all."
Still Frank was silent. Now he held his watch in his hand his eyes
fastened upon it. Montgomery Avenue was reached, and they turned into
it.
At the corner of the next street they nearly ran down another carriage.
By a sharp turn to the right, the driver whirled alongside of the cab
into which he had nearly crashed.
Looking from the window, Frank gazed directly into the window of the
other cab.
A cry escaped his lips:
"Inza--there she is!"
There was an answering cry, and the face of a beautiful girl appeared at
the window of the other cab.
"Frank!" she almost screamed. "Frank, is it you?"
Then a pair of hands grasped her, and pulled her back from view.
But Frank had seen enough, and now his very heart was on fire with
excitement. Inza--he had found her.