AN UNWILLING PROMISE.
When Frank stepped into his room he was astonished to find himself face
to face with his old-time sweetheart, Inza Burrage, and her aunt, Miss
Abigail Gale.
Inza hurried toward him, uttering a joyous cry, and an exclamation of
surprise and delight escaped his lips.
In a moment, regardless of the presence of her aunt, the girl flung her
arms about Frank's neck and kissed him.
Miss Gale's hard face did not soften, but she turned her back toward
them, and pretended to be greatly interested in a strange crooked
dagger, having a point smeared with some green substance, the dagger
being locked in a case with a heavy glass door. Upon the glass of the
case was pasted a slip of paper bearing these words:
"The Snake Knife of the Pampas."
"Inza!" exclaimed Frank, as if somewhat in doubt. "Inza--here?"
"Yes!" she cried. "Isn't it a surprise? I knew I would surprise you,
Frank."
"A surprise indeed! Why, you didn't let me know you were coming."
"No."
"How does it happen?"
"Aunt Abby knows some friends in New Haven, and she wished to visit them
while she was in the East, so she asked me to come with her. You may be
sure I was ready enough to come, and, as father is getting along very
well, we were able to leave him."
"Then your father--he is improved?"
"A great deal since getting back to America. He raced all over Europe
looking for health, but continued to get worse till he returned home.
Now he says he believes this the healthiest country on the face of the
earth."
"And he is right. If a person is not strong enough to endure the rigors
of our Northern climate, there is the perfect climate of California. But
I don't suppose you came here to talk climate."
Frank said this with a laugh, and they advanced, hand-in-hand, toward
Miss Gale, who had turned her attention from the queer knife to some
still queerer images and ornaments that adorned the mantel.
"Aunty says you'll be a museum manager if you keep on," laughed Inza.
"Says she never saw so many queer things."
"Goodness, no!" exclaimed Miss Gale, severely, turning to look at Frank
over the rims of her spectacles. "I hope you ain't a crank, Mr.
Merriwell."
"I trust not, Miss Gale," smiled Frank, with extended hand, which
Abigail rather awkwardly accepted, but shook with a heartiness that was
expressive of her esteem for Merry.
"What be some of these horrid-looking things?" asked the spinster. "What
be they good for?"
"Some of them are mementoes, and some of them are simply for the purpose
of decoration. Those little images, those odd vases, the pottery on that
shelf--I gathered those things as ornaments."
"Do tell! I want to know if that ain't just like some folks! Them things
are so hombly I'd want to hide 'em or put 'em all in the fire if I had
'em in my house. Some real pretty chromo pictures would look so much
better in place of them. If you want vases, why you can get pretty glass
ones almost anywhere from fifteen to thirty cents each, and land knows
they'd look better than them things! Then there's that great stuffed
tiger. Goodness! It scared me awful when I saw it standing there in the
corner of the room. I thought it was living, and was shooing at it when
Inza ran over and put her hand right on it. Whatever in the world can
induce you to have such a thing in your room?"
"At first I found it difficult to induce Aunt Abby to remain in this
room," laughed Inza. "She wanted to go outside and wait for you. I am
afraid she has obtained an unfavorable impression of you by coming
here."
"I sincerely trust not," said Frank, who had worked hard when he first
met Miss Gale in Santa Barbara to win her good esteem, a task at which
he had been most successful. "I should regret it very much if I thought
such was the case."
Miss Abigail's hard face did not soften, but she immediately said:
"I suppose we all must have some weak point, and it seems to be Mr.
Merriwell's weakness to gather such hideous truck. I'm sure he's a
gentleman, and I think just as much of him as I ever did."
Frank bowed gracefully and expressed his thanks.
"Can't help looking at the stuff," said the spinster, readjusting her
spectacles and turning her back squarely on Frank and Inza. "I like to
see what crazy notions they do get up."
She appeared to be very busy examining the collection of bric-a-brac and
curiosities.
Frank and Inza looked at each other a moment, and then their hands met.
He drew her to a seat on the sofa.
For some time they chatted of various matters that interested them
alone, Miss Gale being strangely taken up with the trinkets in the
meantime.
"Is this the way she usually chaperones you, Inza?" asked Frank, after a
while, smiling.
"Goodness, no!" replied the girl. "If you were any one but Frank
Merriwell she would be sitting stiff and straight on a chair, never
taking her eyes off us for a moment. But you--she thinks you are the
finest young man in the world. You have completely won her withered old
heart, Frank. You should hear her praise you to papa."
"I'm lucky to have such a champion. Has your father given over the hope
of marrying you off to some rich man?"
"I don't know about that. He hasn't mentioned it of late. I think his
ill luck has discouraged him."
"Two years after this will take me through college, and then----"
"And then----"
His hand found hers once more, and the look that he gave her she could
not misunderstand. Her eyes drooped, and the warm color surged into her
cheeks.
To Frank it seemed that Inza grew more handsome each time he saw her.
Certainly she was destined to become a strikingly attractive woman.
After a little their conversation drifted onto the subject of college
sports, and Inza suddenly said: "I am so glad you are not playing
football this season, Frank."
"Glad?" questioned Frank, surprised. "Why?"
"Oh, just because--because--I am."
This was unlike Inza. She had ever taken a great interest in manly
sports and games, and, in the old days at Fardale, her smiles and
encouraging words had fired him with enthusiasm to do his best in many a
contest.
"I don't think I understand you," he said, slowly. "You used to be glad
for quite the other reason."
"But--but it's different now."
"How?"
"Oh, I can't tell; but it is."
"Well, Inza, I have not played football this season, but I am thinking
of playing in the two principal games--the ones with Harvard and
Princeton."
Inza appeared startled.
"Don't do it, Frank--don't play football this year!" she exclaimed.
"Promise me that you will not."
"Oh, I can't do that, Inza. Yale is not as strong as she should be this
fall, and, if I can do anything to help her win, I feel that I must."
Inza secured both his hands, leaned toward him, and looked straight into
his eyes, as she deliberately asked:
"If I didn't want you to play, would you do so?"
Frank's position was rather unpleasant, and he showed confusion.
"If there was a reason why you did not want me to play----"
"There is."
"Tell it to me."
"Not now--sometime. But I want you to promise me that you will not go on
the field this season. Will you promise?"
In her dark eyes there was a command, as well as an entreaty. He felt
that he could not resist her if he looked into those eyes, and he turned
his head away.
Instantly Inza sprang up.
"I think we had better go, Aunt Abby," she exclaimed.
Frank was on his feet instantly.
"Now, Inza," he exclaimed, "I know you are angry. It seems to me that
you are unreasonable. If you would tell me why you don't want me to
play, I--I----"
"It is very plain that I have been mistaken in you," she said, severely.
"I thought of you when my father was trying to force me into marriage
with an Englishman with a title--and I ran away from the Englishman.
Perhaps, if I had known you would refuse me such a little thing as
this--perhaps I might have married that odious old Englishman out of
spite!"
Her eyes flashed, and she stamped her small foot.
She was right; he felt it. She had done much for him, and truly he might
please her in this matter. Marline could play full-back all right, and
it was no more than fair that Marline should have a chance. He had not
intended to play football, but Halliday had tried to drag him into it.
"Don't be angry, Inza," he said. "Let's talk it over. Perhaps I will
promise."
"I have talked enough," she said, without relenting. "If you care for me
as I fancied you did, you will promise without another word."
One more moment of hesitation, and then Frank said:
"That settles it--I promise."
"You will not play football this season?"
"No."
"You are a dear, good boy!"
Then she suddenly kissed him again.