Frank Merriwell's Athletes Part 3

"Excuse me if I lie down," murmured Browning, as he stretched his ma.s.sive frame on a couch. "I am troubled of late with that tired feeling."

"Vot you took vor him?" asked Hans, anxiously. "I'd vos tangerous ven you let him go und don't took nottings."

"The best thing I have found to take for it is a rest."

"Do you know why the Chinese make such good actors?" asked Rattleton.

"You toldt me dot."

"All right. They make good actors because they never forget their cues."

"Yah! yah! yah!" cackled Toots, the colored boy, who had been keeping still and remaining in the background. "Land ob watermillions! dat boy Rattletum cayan't help sayin' dem fings. It jes' comes nacheral wif dat boy."

"Meester Raddleton must haf peen eatin' eggs," observed Hans, soberly.

"He vos full uf yokes."

Toots stared at Hans, and then, suddenly seeing the point, he had a fit.

He laughed till Frank threw one of Browning's bicycle shoes at him. The shoe struck the colored lad and knocked him off his chair to the floor.

He picked himself up and sat down without a word, looking sad and subdued.

"Now, Barney," said Frank, gravely, "be good enough to go on with your story. I think we have quieted the menagerie."

"Begorra! Oi nivver saw such a crowd as this in all me loife," declared the Irish lad. "It's a jolly ould party it is."

Then he began his story:

"It's nivver a bit av money could Oi make in London, an' so, whin Oi got a chance to go to Australia wid a foine gintlemon thot gave me a job on his ranch, Oi shnapped it up quicker thin ye could wink th' two oies av yes.

"But afther Oi got there Oi didn't loike the place a great dale. It wur too fur away from anything at all, at all, an' it's lonesome Oi got; so Oi wint to th' gintlemon an' told him. It's a foine splindid mon he wur, fer he said to me, sez he, 'Barney, me b'y, it's sorry Oi am to have yez go, but Oi don't want to kape ye av' ye're lonesome an' homesick.' Wid thot he wur afther givin' me a roll av money thot he said Oi could pay back av Oi ivver got th' chance, an' Oi packed me hooker an' shtarted fer Sydney.

"It's a roight shmart town thot same Sydney is, as ye know yersilf, Frankie, fer it's goin' there ye wur th' last toime Oi saw yez. Oi wur moighty intheristed in that place, an' wan day who should Oi mate roight on th' strata but-- Oi'll bet ye can't guess in a thousan' years, Frankie."

"Yah," nodded Hans; "he don'd peen aple to guess in zwei t'ousan' year."

"Then I will not try," said Frank. "Who was it that you met, Barney?"

"It wur th' girrul ye used ter be so shtuck on at Fardale, me b'y."

"What, not-not--"

"Inza Burrage!"

"Yah, Inza Porrige," grinned Hans.

Inza Burrage was a young lady of whom Frank had been very found in former days, and she still held a warm corner in his heart.

"Goodness!" cried Frank. "Inza-in Australia?"

"Sure she wur, me b'y. Ye know th' last toime ye saw her she wur wid her fayther, an' th' ould gintlemon wur thravelin' fer his hilth on th'

continent."

"Yes, yes."

"They wint to Italy."

"Yes."

"It wur there that Misther Burrage met Lord Stanford."

"Who is Lord Stanford?"

"An Inglish gintlemon wid more money than brains."

"Und he vos nod der only bebble on der peach," put in Hans.

"What about him? How does he come into the Story?" asked Frank.

"He made love to Inza, me b'y."

"Made love to her? Why, she is nothing but a little girl."

"It's forgittin' ye are that she has been gettin' oulder, as well as yersilf. She is almost a young lady now, me b'y."

"But not old enough to think seriously of love."

"Is it that oidea ye have, Frankie? An' do yez fergit how Rolf Raymond, her cousin in New Orleans, troied to make her marry him?"

"That was an outrage, for she was a mere child."

"Ye'll see a change in her whin ye mate her. An' it's her fayther thot's lookin' out for a foine match fer her."

"Impossible! I am sure Mr. Burrage would not--"

"Sure is it ye are! Ha! ha! Whoy, it's thot th' old gintlemon wur thravelin' fer more than fer th' hilth av him."

"Barney, I can't believe this."

"Belave it ur not, it's the truth, an' he wur afther makin' her marry Lord Stanford."

"What an outrage-what an outrage!" shouted Frank, springing to his feet and excitedly pacing the floor. "Don't tell me he succeeded in forcing her into such a marriage!"

"He would have sucsaded av Oi hadn't sane her."

"And you, Barney-what did you do?"

There was a twinkle in the eyes of the Irish youth.

"Oh, Oi did nivver a thing!" he chuckled. "She told me iverything about it."