THE PROFESSOR'S COURAGE.
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 do my 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!"