THE ADVENTURES OF FRANK & DICK MERRIWELL: 20+ Crime & Mystery Classics (Illustrated). Burt L. Standish
lips.
As Frank looked the girl tore the fellow's hand from her lips, and her cry for help again rang out.
The wretch lifted his fist to strike her senseless, but the blow did not fall.
Frank was a remarkably good shot, and his revolver was in his hand. That hand was flung upward to the opening in the panel, and he fired into the room.
The burst of smoke kept him from seeing the result of the shot, but he heard a hoarse roar of pain from the man, and he knew he had not missed.
He had fired at the fellow's wrist, and the bullet had shattered it.
But now the ruffians who were coming furiously up the stairs demanded his attention.
"Halt!" he shouted. "Stop where you are, or I shall open fire on you!"
He could see them, and he saw the foremost lift his hand. Then there was a burst of flame before Frank's eyes, and he staggered backward, feeling a bullet near his cheek.
Not till that moment did he realize what a trap he was in, and how desperate was his situation.
"It is a fight for life!" he muttered, as he lifted his revolver.
The smell of burned powder was in his nostrils, the fire of battle gleamed from his eyes.
The weapon in Frank's hand spoke again, and once more he found his game, for the leading ruffian, having almost reached the head of the stairs, flung up his arms, with a gurgling sound, and toppled backward upon those who were following.
Down the stairs they all tumbled, falling in a heap at the bottom, where they struggled, squirmed, and shouted.
"So far everything is very serene!" half laughed the daring boy. "This has turned out to be a real lively night."
Frank was a lad who never deliberately sought danger for danger's sake, but when his blood was aroused, he entirely forgot to be afraid, and he felt a wild thrill of joy when in the greatest peril.
For the time, he had entirely forgotten the existence of Barney Mulloy, but now he remembered that the Irish lad had waited outside the cottage café.
"He has heard the rumpus," said Frank, aloud. "I wonder where Barney can be?"
"Whist, be aisy, me lad!" retorted the familiar voice of the Irish youth. "Oi'm wid yez to th' ind!"
Barney was close behind Frank!
"How in the world did you get here?" cried our hero, in great astonishment.
"Oi climbed the tray, me b'y."
"The tree? What tree?"
"Th' willey tray as shtands forninst th' corner av th' house, Frankie."
"But that does not explain how you came here at my side."
"There was a windy open, an' Oi shlipped in by th' windy."
"Well, you're a dandy, Barney!"
"An' ye're a birrud, Frankie. What koind av a muss hiv ye dhropped into now, Oi'd loike ter know?"
"A regular ruction. I heard a girl shout for help, and I knocked over two or three chaps, Mazaro included, on my way to her aid."
"Where is she now, b'y?"
"In here," said Frank, pointing through the broken panel. "She is the missing Queen of Flowers! There she is, Barney! See here!"
Then Frank obtained a fair look at the girl's face, staggered, clutched Barney, and shouted:
"Look! By heavens! It is not strange she knew me, for we both know her! She is Inza Burrage!"
CHAPTER XXIII.
FIGHTING LADS
While attending school at Fardale Military Academy, Frank had met and become acquainted with a charming girl by the name of Inza Burrage. They had been very friendly—more than friendly; in a boy and girl way, they were lovers.
After leaving Fardale and starting to travel, Frank had written to Inza, and she had answered. For a time the correspondence had continued, but, at last, Frank had failed to receive any answers to his letters. He wrote again and again, but never a line came from Inza, and he finally decided she had grown tired of him, and had taken this method of dropping him.
Frank was proud and sensitive, and he resolved to forget Inza. This was not easy, but he thought of her as little as possible, and never spoke of her to any one.
And now he had met her in this remarkable manner. Some fellow had written him from Fardale that Mr. Burrage had moved from the place, but no one seemed to know whither he had gone. Frank had not dreamed of seeing Inza in New Orleans, but she was the mysterious Queen of Flowers, and, for some reason, she was in trouble and peril.
Although dazed by his astonishing discovery, the boy quickly recovered, and he felt that he could battle with a hundred ruffians in the defense of the girl beyond the broken door.
Barney Mulloy seemed no less astonished than Frank.
"Be me soul! it is thot lassie!" he cried.
"Inza! Inza!" shouted Frank, through the broken panel.
She heard him.
"Frank! Frank! Save me!"
"I will!"
The promise was given with the utmost confidence.
At that moment, however, the ruffian whose wrist Frank had broken, leaped upon the girl and grasped her with his uninjured arm.
"Carramba!" he snarled. "You save-a her? Bah! Fool! You never git-a out with whole skin!"
"Drop her, you dog!" cried Frank, pointing his revolver at the fellow—"drop her, or I'll put a bullet through your head, instead of your wrist!"
"Bah! Shoot! You kill-a her!"
He held the struggling girl before him as a shield.
Like a raging lion, Frank tore at the panel.
The man with the girl swiftly moved back to a door at the farther side of the room. This door he had already unfastened and flung open.
"Adios!" he cried, derisively. "Some time I square wid you for my hand-a! Adios!"
"Th' spalpanes are comin' up th' shtairs again, Frankie!" cried Barney, in the ear of the desperate boy at the door.
Frank did not seem to hear; he was striving to break the stout panel so that he could force his way through the opening.
"Frank! Frank! they're coming up th' shtairs!"
"Let them come!"
"They'll make mince mate av us!"
"I must follow her!"
"Well, folly, av ye want to!" shouted the Irish lad. "Oi'm goin' to shtop th' gang!"
Crack! The panel gave. Crack! splinter! smash! Out came a long strip, which Frank flung upon the floor.
Barney caught it up and whirled toward the stairs.
The desperadoes were coming with a rush—they were well up the stairs. In another moment the leading ruffian would have reached the second floor.
"Get back, ye gossoons! Down, ye haythen! Take thot, ye bloody pirates!"
The strip of heavy wood in Barney's hands whirled through the air, and came down with a resounding crack on the head of the leader.
The fellows had not learned caution by the fate of the first man to climb the stairs, and they were following their second leader as close as possible.
Barney had a strong arm, and he struck the fellow with all his power. Well it was for the ruffian that