Frank Merriwell's Athletes: or, The Boys Who Won. Standish Burt L.
may have thought of some plan of action by that time,” he said. “Think the matter over yourselves, boys, perhaps you may be able to aid me. You know Inza, and – well, you know me. You must know I would give anything I possess to locate her now.”
“You pet mine poots we know dot,” nodded Hans.
“Begorra, you’re th’ roight stuff, Frankie, an’ Oi’m riddy to foight wid yer bist frind if he maloigns ye,” said Barney, thinking of Diamond.
Frank pressed their hands and bade them good-night. Then they departed.
CHAPTER IV – INZA’S LETTER
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,
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