"She knew my name," he muttered. "She spoke it distinctly. There can be no doubt about that."
Professor Scotch groaned dismally.
"There you go again!" he exclaimed. "Now, what are you mumbling about?"
"The Queen of Flowers."
"Confound the Queen of Flowers!" exploded Scotch. "You saved her life at the risk of your own, but you don't know her from Adam."
"She knows me."
"How is that?"
"She spoke my name."
"You must be mistaken."
"I am not."
Professor Scotch looked incredulous.
"Why, she was unconscious."
"She was when I saved her from the steer."
"And she recovered afterward?"
"Yes; just as Colonel Vallier was taking her to the carriage."
"And she spoke your name then?"
"Yes. First I saw her open her eyes, and I noticed that she was looking straight at me; then I heard her distinctly but faintly pronounce my name."
The professor still looked doubtful.
"You were excited, my boy, and you imagined it."
"No, professor, it was no case of imagination; I know she called me Frank Merriwell, but what puzzles me is the fact that this young cad, Raymond, was determined I should not speak with her, and she was carried away quickly. Why should they wish to keep us from having a few words of conversation?"
"That is a question I cannot answer, Frank."
"There's a mystery here, professor—a mystery I mean to solve. I am going to find out who the Queen of Flowers really is."
"And get into more trouble, you hot-headed young rascal. I should think you were in trouble enough already, with a possible duel impending."
A twinkle of mischief showed in Frank's eyes.
"How about yourself, professor?"
"Oh, the young scoundrel won't dare to meet me," blustered Scotch, throwing out his chest and strutting about the room.
"But he is not the one you will have to meet. You exchanged cards with Colonel La Salle Vallier."
"As a mere matter of courtesy."
"That might go in the North, but you exchanged under peculiar circumstances, and, taking everything into consideration, I have no doubt but you will be waited on by a friend of Colonel Vallier. You will have to meet him."
"Hey!" roared the professor, turning pale. "Is it possible that such a result will come from a mere matter of politeness? Why, I'm no fighter, Frank—I'm no blood-and-thunder ruffian! I did not mean to hint that I wished to meet the colonel on the field of honor."
"But you have, and you can't back out now. You heard what Manuel Mazaro had to say about him. He is a dead shot and a skilled swordsman. Oh, professor, my heart bleeds for you! But you shall have a great funeral, and I'll plant tiddly-wink posies all over your grave."
"Cæsar's ghost!" groaned Scotch, collapsing on a chair, and looking very ill indeed. "This is a terrible scrape! I don't feel well. I fear I am going to be very ill."
CHAPTER XVI.
PROFESSOR SCOTCH FEELS ILL
Frank found it impossible to restrain his laughter longer, and he gave way to it.
"Ha, ha, ha!" he merrily shouted. "You surely look ill, professor! I'd like to have your picture now! Ha, ha, ha! It would make a first-rate picture for a comic paper."
"This is no laughing matter," came dolefully from Scotch. "I don't know how to fire a pistol, and I never had a sword in my hand in all my life. And to think of standing up and being shot full of holes or carved like a turkey by that fire-eater with the fierce mustache! It is awful, awful!"
"But you were eager to fight the young fellow."
"No, I was not. I was simply putting up a bluff, as you call it. I was doing my level best to get you out of the scrape, Frank. I didn't think he would fight me, and so I pretended to be eager to meet him. And now see what a scrape I am in! Oh, my soul and body! What can I do?"
"Fight."
"Never!"
"I don't see how you can get out of it."
"I'll run away."
In a moment Frank became very grave.
"That is impossible, professor," he said, with the utmost apparent sincerity. "Think of the disgrace! It would be in all the papers that Professor Scotch, a white-livered Northerner, after insulting Colonel La Salle Vallier and presenting his card, had taken to his heels in the most cowardly fashion, and had fled from the city without giving the colonel the satisfaction that is due from one gentleman to another. The Northern papers would copy, and you would find yourself the butt of ridicule wherever you went."
The professor let out a groan that was more dismal and doleful than any sound that had previously issued from his lips.
"What can I do?" he gasped.
"There is one way to get out of the difficulty."
"Name it! name it!" shouted the wretched man. "I'll do anything!"
"Then commit suicide."
The professor collapsed again.
"Are you entirely heartless?" he moaned. "Can you joke when I am suffering such misery?"
His face was covered with perspiration, and he was all a-quiver, so that Frank was really touched.
"You can apologize, professor."
"Apologize for what? I don't know that I have done anything to apologize for; but then I'll apologize rather than fight."
"Well, I guess you'll be able to get out of it some way."
But it was no easy thing to reassure the agitated man, as Frank soon discovered.
"I'll tell you what, professor," said the boy; "you may send a representative—a substitute."
"I don't think it will be easy to find a substitute."
"Oh, I'll find one."
"Perhaps Colonel Vallier will not accept him."
"But you must be too ill to meet the colonel, and then he'll have to accept the substitute or nothing."
"But who will act as substitute? I don't know any one in New Orleans who'll go and be shot in my place."
"Barney Mulloy has agreed to join us here, and he may arrive on any train," went on Frank, mentioning an old school chum.
"That wild Irishman!" cried the professor, hopefully. "Why, he'd fight a pack of wildcats and think it fun!"
"Yes, Barney is happiest when in trouble. According to my uncle's will, I am at liberty to carry a companion besides my guardian on my travels, and so, when Hans Dunnerwust got tired of traveling and went home, I sent for Barney, knowing he'd be a first-class fellow to have with me. He finally succeeded in making arrangements to join us, and I have a telegram from him, stating that he would start in time to reach here before to-morrow. If you are forced into trouble, professor, Barney can serve as a substitute."
"That sounds very well, but Colonel Vallier would not accept a boy."
"Then Barney can disguise himself and pretend to