Frank Merriwell's Athletes: or, The Boys Who Won. Standish Burt L.
on the pier was near at hand, and he hurried to assist the fallen nobleman.
But Stanford was not hurt, and he got up quickly.
The blow was sufficient to arouse his anger fully, and he made a blind rush for Frank.
Merriwell saw he was in for a struggle with the enraged nobleman, and he quickly placed Inza behind him, keeping his eyes on Stanford all the while.
The furious fellow struck at Frank, huskily crying:
“Take that, you young ruffian! It’s a bobby I’ll call and have you arrested for what you have done!”
But Frank avoided the blow with ease.
He did not strike Stanford again.
“You are a mark,” he laughed. “I’m ashamed to give you what you deserve. Why, I could break your nose in a moment if I wished.”
“Bragging again! You Americans are always bragging! That is all you know how to do!”
“Really! History shows we have done up Johnny Bull twice, and done him good. If necessary, we can do him up again.”
Again Stanford rushed, and again Frank ducked and dodged aside, thrusting out his foot and tripping the Englishman.
Down upon the planking plunged the angry nobleman, striking his nose hard enough to scrape it quite severely.
When he got up he was blind with rage – almost frothing.
He made such a swift rush at Frank that Merry was not able to dodge again, and he received a slight blow on the cheek.
Frank’s eyes flashed, and he grappled with Stanford.
Whirling the fellow about, he grasped him by the collar and a convenient portion of the trousers he wore.
“You are excited, my dear sir,” said Merriwell, gently. “What you need is a nice chance to cool off. I think I will give you an opportunity to do so.”
Then he ran the frightened and frantic nobleman to the edge of the pier and kicked him off into the water.
“There,” said Frank, as he stood looking down, having thrust his hands into his pockets, “that will be a fine thing for you.”
Lord Stanford came up, spouting like a whale.
“Murder!” he cried. “He means to drown me!”
“Oh, no; only give you a bath,” said Frank, soberly.
Then he heard a shrill cry of fear behind him, and whirled to see that the sailor had seized Inza.
Like a leaping panther the young athlete went for the man.
“Help!” appealed Inza.
The sailor saw Frank coming, and prepared to meet the attack. He was a thick, muscular-appearing fellow, and he did not seem in the least afraid of Merriwell, for all that the latter had handled Lord Stanford with such ease.
“You won’t find a snap with me,” said the man, showing eagerness for the struggle. “I can handle two or three of you.”
He looked as if he fully believed it. Indeed, he had the appearance of a prize fighter, and ninety-nine boys out of a hundred would have hesitated about tackling him.
Not so with Frank. He was ready to tackle an army of giants in defense of Inza, and he grappled with the sailor.
But he was given no time to see what he could do.
It seemed that a thunderbolt from the clear sky descended and smote him on the head. There was a flash of light as if something had exploded in his head.
Darkness followed.
CHAPTER VI – FRANK BUYS A YACHT
Frank sat up and looked around. Deep-toned bells seemed to be ringing in his head, which throbbed with a pain that made him weak and faint.
He was on the pier, and a man in yachting dress was approaching him. There seemed to be something familiar in the appearance of the man.
Frank wondered what had happened, for his wits were so scattered that he could not pull them together readily.
“That was a decidedly rough deal you received, Mr. Merriwell,” said the man in the yachting suit. “I saw it all, and you did not have a fair show.”
Frank looked at him stupidly.
“You know me,” he said, speaking with an effort; “but you have the advantage of me. Somehow, though, your face does seem familiar. I believe I have seen you before.”
“Sure you have! Why, have you forgotten last night in Chinatown?”
“No. I have not forgotten. You are Mr. Chandler.”
“Yes. Permit me to assist you to rise. I hope you are not badly hurt. It was a wicked blow, delivered with all the strength the old man could muster.”
“Blow?” muttered Frank, as he was aided to his feet, but found that at first he was unable to stand without aid. “Was I struck? It seems that somebody hit me on the head.”
“You’re dazed. Somebody did hit you. I saw you toss one chap into the water and grapple with the other. Then the old man knocked you down with his cane.”
Frank grew excited.
“I was fighting for Inza!” he exclaimed. “I remember it now! So her father knocked me out? Where have they taken her?”
“They took her away in a boat, although she struggled to break away and reach you,” answered Chandler. “They are on board that yacht out there now.”
He pointed toward Lord Stanford’s yacht, where it was seen that sailors were making hasty preparations to get under weigh, but no sign of the Englishman, Inza, or Mr. Burrage could be seen.
Frank Merriwell straightened up with a sudden return of strength that was, to say the least, astonishing.
“So they have carried her on board?” he said, quickly. “And it is plain they will be away directly. Mr. Chandler, I believe you have a boat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where is it?”
“There it lays.”
The man pointed to a small but handsome single-sticker that lay within a short distance of Lord Stanford’s boat.
“It seems to me that you said last night that you wished to sell her.”
“I do.”
“How much will you take for her as she lays?”
“She cost me fifteen hundred dollars, but I am anxious to sell, and I will take a thousand.”
“I’ll take her.”
John Chandler gasped for breath, and then smiled doubtingly.
“That is easily said, but I must have ready cash for her, and – ”
“You shall have ready cash. I will give you a check on the Nevada Bank, where I have an account. My guardian fully expected I would need plenty of money by the time I reached San Francisco, and he arranged it for me, so I am able to secure almost any reasonable sum. There will be no trouble or delay in getting your money.”
Chandler still looked doubtful, as it seemed rather improbable that this lad could draw so much money on short notice.
“How many men have you on your yacht?” asked Frank, as if the matter were settled.
“None now. The two friends who were with me last night were the last of my party, save the cook, and even the cook left this morning.”
“Is she fitted up for a cruise?”
“I should say so! I expected to spend four more weeks on board, but business changes have knocked me out on that.”
“Remember, I have bought her just as she lays.”
“Certainly.”
“That includes everything on