Frank thought the matter over for a few moments, and then said:
“It seems to me that there is a probability of this Lord Stanford being in San Francisco, although Inza’s father may have taken her away. If his servant had left him, it is not likely an attempt would have been made on Barney’s life. The Chinaman’s master must have told him to look out that he was not followed by Barney, and the heathen was going to stop it somehow.”
“It seems rather remarkable to me,” said Jack, “that they should care whether Barney followed them or not, for it is likely they now have the girl under such close watch that there is absolutely no chance for her to run away again.”
“She may have been forced into a marriage already,” Browning said.
“You do not know her,” declared Frank. “She is a girl of such spirit that her father will find it extremely difficult to compel her to marry against her will.”
“Yah,” nodded the Dutch boy, “you pet me my poots on dot!”
“Begorra! she has th’ clane grit in her,” agreed Barney.
“That is certain,” admitted Bruce, “else she would not have dared run away as she did. Not one girl in a thousand would have the nerve to do a thing like that.”
“I am greatly interested to see this remarkable young lady,” said Diamond. “I like girls of spirit.”
Frank paid no heed to what the others were saying. He was walking the floor, the expression of his face showing that he was in a brown study.
“Shust look ad him,” whispered Hans. “Uf he geds dot Lort Sdanfort holdt uf – vale, dot feller don’t know vere he vas at purty queek alretty.”
After a time, Frank paused to say:
“This is a case on which no time is to be lost, as Inza may be forced into a marriage if she is not soon given aid in some manner. Unfortunately, it seems to me that there is no clew to begin work on immediately. We are at sea.”
“Av you don’t foind a way out av it roight off it will be th’ firrust toime ye ivver wur balked,” said Barney, admiringly.
“There is always a first time, but we will hope this is not one. I am going to give the matter some thought. Talk it over, fellows, and see if you can’t devise some plan.”
As Frank was passing into an adjoining room, Hodge approached him, saying in a low tone:
“You must not forget that I am in constant danger every day I remain in California, Merriwell. I must get out as soon as possible.”
At first a shadow of annoyance seemed to rest on Frank’s face, but it quickly passed, and he said:
“You are right, Bart. A steamer leaves for Honolulu day after to-morrow. To-morrow I will secure passage on her for you.”
Then he passed on into the room.
Two hours later Rattleton found Frank alone.
“Well, Merry,” said Harry, “what is to be done? Have you decided yet?”
Frank shook his head.
“It is a most perplexing and puzzling situation,” he confessed. “If I knew where to find Inza it would not be long before I would have a plan. But to find her – that’s the rub.”
“What would you do then?” asked Harry. “You could not take her away from her father.”
“That is true. But her father is an invalid, and I believe this Lord Stanford has used undue influence in persuading him to force Inza into this marriage. In London I was able to save Mr. Burrage and Inza from being blown to pieces by an anarchist’s bomb. It is not likely that he has forgotten this. It may be that I would have some influence with him myself.”
“It is possible,” admitted Harry; “but even your influence might fail.”
“In that case,” declared Frank, “I should try to resort to more desperate means.”
“It is dangerous, Merry – very dangerous. Since reaching California we have escaped from one danger by the tin of our skeeth – I mean by the skin of our teeth. Even now there is a possibility that Hodge may be arrested.”
Frank scowled a little, but nodded slowly.
“I know it,” he acknowledged, “but in two days Hodge will be on the sea bound for Honolulu. He is to take passage on a steamer that leaves day after to-morrow. It is this girl I am thinking about, now, Rattle.”
“Girls have caused you any amount of trouble, Merry.”
“I know that, and I am willing that this girl should cause me any amount more.”
“Then it must be that you are still in love with her. This is the girl you care about more than any other.”
“I don’t know,” said Frank, slowly. “It may be. I have not seen her in a long time, and I have seen many other girls, for some of whom I have had more than a passing fancy.”
“It is certain that some of them have had more than a passing fancy for you, Frank,” laughed Harry.
Merriwell did not smile.
“Harry,” he said, gravely, “my thoughts are now of Inza alone. All other girls are forgotten. She always had the utmost confidence in me. She trusted me, and she believed I could do anything. If she knew I were in San Francisco she would find a way to appeal to me for aid. I can fancy her alone with her invalid father, whose one ambition is to make a good match for his child before he dies. I can fancy her appealing to him, begging him not to force her into this odious marriage. She is not the girl to cringe or cry. She is impulsive, hot-blooded, passionate, and, as a last resort, to escape this English lord, she might do something desperate. Nay, she might commit suicide.”
Harry was inclined to laugh at this, but he saw that Merriwell was very grave and earnest, and he refrained. He shook his head, however, saying:
“You cannot be in earnest, old fellow. Girls do not commit suicide nowadays.”
“I assure you there is no telling what a girl like Inza Burrage might do. That is what worries me. I feel that it is my duty to aid her, but how – how can I reach her?”
“Pive it gup – I mean give it up, old man. Let us sleep over it to-night.”
“Sleep – sleep after hearing this? Impossible!”
“But you can do nothing until daylight comes.”
“That is true, and I am wondering what I shall be able to do then. That is why I cannot sleep.”
In vain Rattleton urged Frank to lie down and rest. At last he gave it up and went into the other room to tell the boys how hard hit Frank was by the news concerning his old sweetheart.
“I don’t doubt me,” nodded Hans. “Thot am shust like Vrankie. He vos alvays thinking a great deal more of somepody else apout, than he vas himself of.”
“Begorra,” put in Barney, “it is no more than nacheral he should think a great dale av thot girrul. They wur the bist av swatehearts at Fardale. Although they sometimes jist quarreled a bit it’s true love thot nivver did run smooth at all, at all, and there’s no telling what may happen betwane thim. For sure there is very little smoothness in their love affairs.”
“Ah, Merriwell is always falling in love,” said Diamond. “I do not believe it goes very deep with him.”
“An’ if it is yersilf thot thinks so!” cried Barney, contemptuously, “it’s little ye know about him, thin!”
Jack flushed, and seemed on the point of resenting this plain speech, but bit his lip and remained silent, although he gave Barney a black look.
The Irish lad did not mind looks, however, and as for words, he had a proverbial Irish tongue that could send back a witty and cutting reply for any sort of speech.
After meeting Hans in San Francisco, Barney had been stopping