"This is most unfortunate!" cried Frank, in dismay. "I meant to get here ahead of the procession, so that I could speak to her before she got inside."
"Well, let's go in an' spake to her now."
"We can't."
"Whoy not?"
"This is a very exclusive affair."
"An' we're very ixclusive paple."
"Only those having invitations can enter the ballroom."
"Is thot so? Thin it's outsoide we're lift. What can we do about thot?"
"Nothing."
"Is it too late to git invoitations?"
"They can't be bought, like tickets."
"Well, what koind av a shindig do ye call this, Oi dunno?"
Barney was thoroughly disgusted.
Frank explained that Professor Scotch had been able to procure invitations, but neither of them had fancied they would care to attend the ball, so the opportunity had been neglected.
"Whinever Oi can get something fer nothing, Oi take it," said Barney. "It's a use Oi can make fer most things Oi get."
The two boys lingered outside the building. Frank hoped the Flower Queen would come out, and he would be able to speak to her before she entered a carriage and was carried away.
Sweet strains of music floated down to the ears of the restless lads, and, with each passing moment, Frank grew more and more disgusted with himself.
"To think that I might be in there—might be waltzing with the Queen of Flowers at this moment, if I had asked the professor to obtain the invitations!" he cried.
"It's harrud luck!" said Barney; "but ye'll know betther next toime."
"Next time will be too late. In some way, I must meet this girl and speak to her. I must, and I will!"
"That's th' shtuff, me b'y! Whiniver ye say anything loike thot, ye always git there wid both fate. Oi'll risk yez."
Two men in dress suits came out to smoke and get a breath of air. They stood conversing within a short distance of the boys.
"She has been the sensation of the day," said one. "The whole city is wondering who she is."
"She seems determined to remain a mystery."
"Yes, for she has vanished from the ballroom in a most unaccountable manner. No one saw her take her departure."
"Not even Rolf Raymond."
"No. He is as much mystified as anybody. The fellow knows her, but he positively refuses to disclose her identity."
Frank's hand had fallen on Barney's arm with a grip of iron, and the fingers were sinking deeper and deeper into the Irish lad's flesh as these words fell on their ears.
"It is said that the young fellow who saved her from the steer to-day does not know her."
"No. She saw him in the crowd to-night, and flung him her crown, calling him a hero. He was nearly mobbed by the crowd, that was determined to know his name, but he escaped in some way, and has not been seen since."
"That settles it!" Frank hissed in Barney's ear. "They are speaking of the Flower Queen."
"Sure," returned the Irish lad; "an' av yersilf, Frankie, b'y."
"She is no longer in the ballroom."
"No."
"We are wasting our time waiting here."
"Roight ye are."
"Then we will wait no longer. Come, we'll go to the hotel."
CHAPTER XIX.
A HUMBLE APOLOGY
Barely were they in their apartments at the hotel when there came a knock on the door, and a boy entered, bearing a salver on which were two cards.
"Colonel La Salle Vallier and Mr. Rolf Raymond," read Frank. "Bring them up."
"What's that?" roared Professor Scotch, from the bed. "Are you crazy?"
Frank hustled the boy out of the room, whispering:
"Bring them up, and admit them without knocking."
He slipped a quarter into the boy's hand, and the little fellow grinned and hurried away.
Frank turned back to find Professor Scotch, in his night robe, standing square in the middle of the bed, wildly waving his arms, and roaring:
"Lock the door—barricade it—keep them out! If those desperadoes are admitted here, this room will run red with gore!"
"That's right, professor," agreed Frank. "We'll settle their hash right here and at once. We'll cook 'em."
"Whoop!" shouted the little professor, in his big, hoarse voice. "This is murder—assassination! Lock the door, I say! I am in no condition to receive visitors."
"Be calm, professor," chirped Frank, soothingly.
"Be calm, profissor," echoed Barney, serenely.
"Be calm!" bellowed the excited little man. "How can I be calm on the eve of murder and assassination? I am an unarmed man, and I am not even dressed!"
"Niver moind a little thing loike thot," purred the Irish lad.
"It's of no consequence," declared Frank, placidly.
"No consequence!" shouted Scotch. "Oh, you'll drive me crazy! You want me to be killed! It is a plot to have me murdered! I see through the vile scheme! I'll call the police!"
He rushed into the front room, and flung up a window, from which he howled:
"Fire! Police!"
He would have shrieked murder and several other things, but Frank and Barney dragged him back and closed the window.
"Great Scott!" gasped Frank. "It'll be a wonder if the whole police force of the city does not come rushing up here."
"Perhaps they'll not be able to locate th' spot from which th' croy came," said Barney. "Let us hope not."
"Yes, let us hope not."
The professor squirmed out of the grasp of the two boys, and made a wild dash for the door.
Just before he reached it, the door was flung open, and Colonel Vallier, followed by Rolf Raymond, strode into the room.
The colonel and the professor met just within the doorway.
The collision was violent, and both men recoiled and sat down heavily upon the floor, while Rolf Raymond barely saved himself from falling astride the colonel's neck.
Sitting thus, the two men glared at each other, the colonel being in a dress suit, while the professor wore a night robe.
Frank and Barney could not restrain their laughter.
Then a most remarkable thing happened.
Professor Scotch became so angry at what he considered the unwarranted intrusion of the visitors that he forgot how he was dressed, forgot to be scared, and grew fierce as a raging lion. Without rising, he leaned forward, and shook his fist under Colonel Vallier's nose, literally roaring:
"What do you mean by entering this room without knocking, you miserable old blowhard? You ought to have your face thumped, and, by thunder! I believe I can do it!"
"Sah!" gasped the colonel, in the greatest amazement and dismay.
"Don't 'sah' me, you measly old fraud!" howled Scotch, waving his fists in the air. "I