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Frank Merriwell Down South, a novel by Burt L. Standish

Chapter 22. The Queen Is Found

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_ CHAPTER XXII. THE QUEEN IS FOUND

Mazaro changed color, and then he regained his composure.

"Senor," he said, smoothly, "I know-a not what made you t'ink dat."

"I do not think; I know."

"Wondareful--ver' wondareful," purred the Spaniard, in mock admiration. "You give-a me great s'prise."

Frank was angry, but he held himself in restraint, appearing cool.

"Your face betrayed it."

"Ah! Dat show yo' have-a ver' gre't eye, senor."

"You do not deny it?"

"Why should I do dat when you know-a so much?"

"You dare not deny it."

"Dare, senor? I dare ver' many thing you do not know."

Mazaro was exasperatingly cool.

"Look here, man," said Frank, leaning toward the Spaniard; "are you aware that you may get yourself into serious trouble? Are you aware that kidnaping is an offense that makes you a criminal of the worst sort, and for which you might be sent up for twenty years, at least?"

The Spaniard smiled.

"It is eeze to talk, but dat is not proof," he said.

"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the boy, his anger getting the better of him for the moment. "I have a mind to convey my suspicions to the police, and then----"

"An' den what, senor? Ah! you talk ver' bol' fo' boy like you. Do you know-a what? Well, see; if I snappa my fingare, quick like a flash you get a knife 'tween your shouldares. Den you not tell-a the police."

Frank could not repress a shiver. He looked swiftly around, and saw the black eyes of the other two men were fastened upon him, and he knew they were ready to obey Mazaro's signal.

"W'at yo' t'ink-a, senor?" smiled Manuel, insolently.

"That is very well," came calmly from Frank's lips. "If I were to give the signal my friends would rush in here to my aid. If you stab me, make sure the knife goes through my heart with the first stroke, so there will be little chance that I'll cry out."

"Den you have-a friends near, ha? I t'ink so mebbe. Call-a dem in."

"No, thank you. They will remain outside till they are needed."

"Ver' well. Now we undarestan' each odder. Yo' have-a some more to say?"

"Yes."

"Say him."

"I have told you that you might find it profitable to serve me."

"I hear dat."

"I meant it."

"W'at yo' want done?"

"No dirty work--no throat-cutting. I want information."

"Ha! W'at yo' want-a know?"

"I want to know who the Queen of Flowers is."

"Any more?"

"Yes; I want to know where she is, and you can tell me."

"Yo' say dat, but yo' can't prove it. I don't say anyt'ing, senor. 'Bo't how much yo' pay fo' that info'mation, ha?"

"Good money, and a fair price."

"Fair price notting; I want good-a price. Undarestand-a?"

"I understand."

"W'at yo' gif?"

"To know where she is? A hundred dollars."

Mazaro smiled scornfully.

"Dat notting. Yo' don' talk de biz. Yo' don' have-a de mon' enough."

"Wait," urged Frank. "I am a Yankee, from the North, and I will make a trade with you."

"All-a right, but I don't admit I know anyt'ing."

Manuel leaned back in his chair, lazily and deftly rolling a cigarette, which he lighted. Frank watched this piece of business, thinking of the best manner of approaching the fellow.

And then something happened that electrified every one within the cafe.

Somewhere above there came the sound of blows, and a crashing, splintering sound, as of breaking wood. Then a shriek ran through the building.

"Help! Help! Save me!"

It was the voice of a female in great terror and distress.

Mazaro ground a curse through his white teeth, and leaped to his feet, but Frank was on his feet quite as quickly.

Smack! Frank's arm had shot out, and his hard fist struck the Spaniard under the ear, sending the fellow flying through the air and up against the wall with terrible force. From the wall Mazaro dropped, limp and groaning, to the floor.

Like a flash, the nervy youth flung the table against the downcast wretch's companions, making them reel.

Then Frank leaped toward the stairs, up which he bounded like a deer.

"Where are you?" he cried. "I am here to help you! Call again!"

No answer.

Near the head of the stairs a light shone out through a broken panel in a door, and on this door Frank knew the blows he had heard must have fallen.

Within this room the boy fancied he could hear sounds of a desperate struggle.

Behind him the desperadoes were rallying, cursing hoarsely, and crying to each other. They were coming, and the lad on the stairs knew they would come armed to the teeth.

All the chivalry in his nature was aroused. His blood was leaping and tingling in his veins, and he felt able to cope with a hundred foes.

Straight toward the broken door he leaped, and his hand found the knob, but it refused to yield at his touch.

"Fast!" he panted. "Well, I'll try this!"

He hurled himself against the door, but it remained firm.

There were feet on the stairs; the desperadoes were coming.

At that moment he looked into the room through the break in the panel, and he saw a girl struggling with all her strength in the hands of a man. The man was trying to hold a hand over her mouth to keep her from crying out again, while a torrent of angry Spanish words poured in a hissing sound from his bearded 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 cafe.

"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!" _

Read next: Chapter 23. Fighting Lads

Read previous: Chapter 21. Frank's Bold Move

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