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Frank Merriwell Down South, a novel by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 21. Frank's Bold Move |
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_ CHAPTER XXI. FRANK'S BOLD MOVE The professor declined to go out. He returned to bed, and the boys left the hotel. "Where away, Frankie?" asked Barney. "I don't know," replied Frank, helplessly. "There is not one chance in millions of finding the lost Flower Queen, but I feel that I must move about. We'll visit the old French quarter by night. I have been there in the daytime, and I'd like to see how it looks at night. Come on." And so they made their way to the French quarter, crossing Canal Street and turning into a quiet, narrow way, that soon brought them to a region of architectural decrepitude. The streets of this section were not overlighted, and seemed very silent and lonely, as, at this particular time, the greater part of the inhabitants of the quarter were away to the scenes of pleasure. The streets echoed to the boys' feet. There were queer balconies on every hand, the stores were mere shops, all of them now closed, and many windows were nailed up. Rust and decay were on all sides, and yet there was something impressive in the almost Oriental squalor of the place. "It sames loike we'd left th' city intoirely for another place, so it does," muttered Barney. "That is true," admitted Frank. "New Orleans seems like a human being with two personalities. For me this is the most interesting part of the city; but commerce is beginning to crowd in here, and the time is coming when the French quarter will cease to be an attraction for New Orleans." "D'ye think not, Frankie?" "It is a certain thing." "Well, we'll get our look at it before it is gone intoirely." A few dark figures were moving silently along the streets. The night was warm, and the shutters of the balcony windows were opened to admit air. At a corner they halted, and, of a sudden, Frank clutched the arm of his companion, whispering: "Look--see that man?" "Yes, me b'y." "Did you see his face?" "Nivver a bit." "Well, I did, and I do not believe I am mistaken in thinking I have seen it before." "Whin?" "To-night." "Pwhere?" "In the alley where I was trapped by Manuel Mazaro and his gang." "It wur darruk in there, Frankie." "But I fired my revolver, and by the flash I saw a face." "So ye soay." "It was the face of the man who just passed beneath this light." "An' pwhat av thot, Frankie?" "He might lead me to Manuel Mazaro." "Pwhat do yez want to see thot spalpane fer?" "Mazaro knows a good deal." "Fer instance, pwhat?" "Why I was attacked, and the object of the attack. He might be induced to tell." "It sure wur a case av intinded robbery, me b'y." "Perhaps so, perhaps not. But he knows more. He knows all about Rolf Raymond and Colonel Vallier." "Well?" "Rolf Raymond and Colonel Vallier know a great deal about the lost Flower Queen. It is possible Mazaro knows something of her. Come on, Barney; we'll follow that man." "Jist as ye say, me lad." "Take the other side of the street, and keep him in sight, but do not seem to be following him." They separated, and both kept in sight of the man, who did not seem to fear pursuit or dream any one was shadowing him. He led them straight to an antiquated story and a half Creole cottage, shaded by a large willow tree, the branches of which touched the sides and swept the round tiles of the roof. The foliage of the old tree half concealed the discolored stucco, which was dropping off in many places. Over the door was a sign which announced that it was a cafe. The door was open, and, in the first room could be seen some men who were eating and drinking at a table. There was another room beyond. The man the boys had followed entered the cottage, passed through the first room, speaking to the men at the table, and disappeared into the room beyond. Frank and Barney paused outside. "Are yez goin' to folly him, Frankie, b'y?" asked the Irish lad. "To be sure I am." "There's no tellin' pwhat koind av a nest ye will get inther." "I'll have to take my chances on that." "Thin Oi'm wid yez." "No, I want you to remain outside, so you will be on hand in case I need air." "How'll I know ye nade it?" "You'll hear me cry or shoot." "Av Oi do, you'll see Barney Mulloy comin' loike a cyclone." "I know I may depend on you, and I know this may be a nest of assassins. These Spaniards are hot-blooded fellows, and they make dangerous rascals." Frank looked at his revolver, to make sure it was in perfect working order, dropped it into the side pocket of his coat, and walked boldly into the cottage cafe. The men in the front room stared at him in surprise, but he did not seem to give them a glance, walking straight through into the next room. There he saw two Spanish-looking fellows talking in low tones over a table, on which drinks were setting. One of them was the man he had followed. They were surprised to see the boy coolly walk into the room, and advance without hesitation to their table. The one Frank had followed seemed to recognize the lad, and he appeared startled and somewhat alarmed. With the greatest politeness, Frank touched his cap, asking: "Senor, do you know Manuel Mazaro?" The fellow scowled, and hesitated, and then retorted: "What if I do?" "I want to see him." "And you have come here for that?" "Yes." "I will see if he be here. Wait." At one side of the room was a door, opening on a dark flight of stairs. Through this doorway and up the stairs the fellow disappeared. Frank sat down at the table, feeling the revolver in the side pocket of his coat. The other man did not attempt to make any conversation. In a few minutes the one who had ascended the stairs reappeared. "Senor Mazaro will soon be down," he announced. Then he sat at the table, and resumed conversation with his companion, speaking in Spanish, and not even seeming to hear the "thank you" from Frank. It was not long before Mazaro appeared, and he came forward without hesitation, smiling serenely, as if delighted to see the boy. "Oh, senor!" he cried, "yo' be not harm in de scrape what we run into?" "I was not harmed, no, thanks to you, Mazaro," said the boy, coolly. "It is a wonder that I came out with a whole skin." "Senor, you do not blame me fo' dat? I deed not know-a it--I deed not know-a de robbares were there." "Mazaro, you are a very good liar, but it will not work with me." The Spaniard showed his teeth, and fell back a step. "De young senor speak-a ver' plain," he said. "It is my way. Mazaro, we may as well understand each other first as last. You are a scoundrel, and you're out for the dollars. Now, it is possible you can make more money by serving me than in any other way. If you can help me, I will pay you well." Mazaro looked ready to sink a knife into Frank's heart a moment before, but he suddenly thawed. With the utmost politeness, he said: "I do not think-a I know what de senor mean. If he speak-a litt'l plainer, mebbe I ondarstan'." "Sit down, Mazaro." The Spaniard took a seat at the table. "Now," said Frank, quietly, "order what you wish to drink, and I will pay for it. I never drink myself, and I never carry much money with me nights, but I have enough to pay for your drink." "De senor is ver' kind," bowed Manuel, and he ordered a drink, which was brought by a villainous-looking old woman. Frank paid, and, when Mazaro was sipping the liquid, he leaned forward and said: "Senor Mazaro, you know Rolf Raymond?" "Si, senor." "And Colonel Vallier?" "Si, senor." "And the Queen of Flowers?" "I know of her, senor; I see her to-day." "You know more. She has disappeared, and you know what has become of her." It was a chance shot, but Frank saw it went home. _ |
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