Late that same afternoon the five boys were riding westward, when Frank said:

“Something mysterious has happened, fellows.”

“What is it?” asked Jack, who was instantly interested in any mystery.

“A short time ago I saw a horseman away down the road here.”

“Yes.”

“He was coming toward us.”

“Well?”

“We have not met him.”

“No.”

“Look—the road lies before us for a mile. Where is he?”

“Not in sight, that is sure.”

“He must have turned off somewhere,” said Rattleton.

“That is true, but we have seen no road that turned off from this.”

“Perhaps he saw us and turned aside to avoid us.”

“Or it may have been Bill Higgins, the sheriff, and he is lying in wait to arrest us all,” suggested Browning.

“It was not Higgins,” assured Merriwell. “It was a young man, I am sure, although I obtained but a glimpse of him through the trees. We have passed no house since then.”

“Never mind him,” said Harry. “We must find a place to stop for the night.”

“I wish we might learn what has happened to Hodge before we stop. I don’t believe Higgins recaptured him.”

“It’s ten chances to one we’ll never hear anything more about him while we are in California.”

“I know that, and I am sorry. I wanted to keep him with us, for he is in great need of friends to straighten him up. He has fallen in with bad companions, and they are ruining him.”

“I should say so!” exclaimed Diamond. “He is a fool to let himself be worked by a girl.”

“Don’t take Hodge for a fool, Jack. He is anything but a fool, but he is easily influenced, and he is proud and passionate. Fairly started on the wrong road, he may go to ruin in a hurry. If we could get him out of this State—save him from arrest! Should he be arrested, tried and condemned, it would mean his utter and complete ruin. After serving a term in prison, he would feel the disgrace so deeply that nothing could save him.”

“Well, you have taken a big contract if you are going to try to save him now,” Diamond declared.

“It might be done, but——Hello! this looks like a path.”

Frank was off his wheel in a moment, and he quickly decided that a path led from the regular trail into the dark shadows to the forest to the northward.

“Wonder where it would take us,” he muttered. And then, seized by a sudden inspiration, he cried:

“Come on, fellows; let’s go on an exploring expedition.”

Diamond protested, and Browning growled after his usual lazy manner, but Frank was supported by Rattleton and Toots, and the majority ruled.

The path, where it turned off from the road, seemed to be somewhat hidden, but it soon became plain enough, and they were able to ride along in single file, Merriwell leading.

They had proceeded in this manner about a mile when they came in sight of a small cabin that was set down in a little hollow amid the trees.

The place looked lonely and deserted, but Frank rode straight toward it, and the others followed.

The boys dismounted before the cabin, and Merriwell rapped loudly on the door. He was forced to knock three times before he obtained a response.

The door opened slowly, and a bent and feeble-looking man with dirty white hair looked at them.

“Who are you?” he asked, in a cracked voice, suspicion showing plainly in his eyes, which were bright and clear for all of his age.

“Travelers,” replied Frank, cheerfully. “We were passing, and, as night is at hand, we decided to ask shelter here.”

“It is useless to ask,” the man declared, with a shake of his head. “I can’t keep you. It is very strange that you should be passing this place. The road does not come within a mile of here.”

“That is true, but we found a path, and became convinced that it must lead to a house, so here we are.”

“You have had your trouble for nothing; I shall not keep you.”

“Hospitable old man!” murmured Browning, sarcastically.

Despite his age, the man was not hard of hearing, for he caught the big fellow’s words and shot him a look.

“Surely you will not turn us away now,” urged Frank. “It will be dark by the time we reach the road again.”

“That is nothing to me.”

The old man was about to close the door, when, to the astonishment of the boys, a musical, girlish voice said:

“Let them stop here, Drew. I know one of the young gentlemen.”

The bicyclists looked at each other inquiringly, wondering which one of them the owner of the voice could know. They all felt a thrill, for this added zest and romance to the little adventure.

“Am I dreaming?” whispered Bruce; “or did I hear the gentle ripple of a female voice?”

“Smoly hoke!” gasped Harry. “To find a girl in this spone lot—I mean lone spot! It is a marvel!”

“An’ dat voice oh hers am lek honeydew from heabben, chilluns—’deed it am!” gurgled Toots, poetically.

The old man seemed astonished and in doubt.

“Do you mean it, my dear?” he asked. “It was on your account——”

“Never mind me, Drew,” came back that musical voice. “It would be a shame to turn them away.”

“But—but——”

“There are no buts about it!” cried the voice sharply, almost angrily. “You have heard what I said! They may stop here.”

“All right—all right, if you say so. There’s nothing for them to eat, and so——”

“I’ll cook something, for you have corn meal in the house. Young men who ride wheels have appetites that enable them to eat anything.”

“All right—all right,” repeated the old man, vaguely.

“Let them put their bicycles under the shed back of the house.”

The old man came out, closing the door.

“It is my niece, young gentlemen,” he explained. “She is very peculiar, and—well, when she says anything, that settles it, so you’ll have to stay.”

“Under the circumstances,” said Frank, his natural delicacy influencing him, although he was rather curious to see the owner of that voice, “I am inclined to think we’re intruding, and we had better go on.”

For a moment the face of the old man expressed relief, and then that look vanished, while he shook his head.

“No,” he said, “that will not do now. She has decided that you shall stop, and she will not leave any hair on my head if you go away. You must stop.”

“She must be a gentle maiden!” murmured Bruce, with a faint smile.

The boys followed the old man around to a shed, under which they placed their wheels. The shed had sometimes been used to shelter horses, but no horse was there then.

“You mustn’t mind my niece,” said the old man, apologetically. “She has been spoiled, and she is determined to have her own way. She runs the ranch.”

Again the boys looked at each other.

“I wonder which of us she knows,” said Harry.

“It must be Merriwell,” Diamond declared. “It could not be any one else. This is a joke on him.”

Diamond’s ideas of a joke were decidedly peculiar.

He seldom saw anything humorous in what pleased his companions, and he took delight in things which did not amuse them at all. He seldom laughed at anything.

Frank himself felt that he was the one the girl knew, if, indeed, she knew any of them, and he was wondering where he had met her. In the course of his wanderings over the world he had met many girls, not a few of whom he had forgotten entirely.

“If she is one of your old girls, I’m going to make a stagger at cutting you out, old fellow,” chuckled Rattleton.

“Oh, I don’t know!” smiled Frank. “You’re not so warm!”

“Just now I don’t see any steam coming out of your shoes,” Harry shot back, quickly. “You’re not the only good thing on the programme; you might be cut out.”

“Land sakes, chilluns!” exclaimed Toots, with uplifted hands. “I nebber heard no such slanguage as dat—nebber!”

“Any of you fellows may have the girl, if you want her,” said Jack. “I have not seen her, but I’m sure she is a terror, and I don’t care for that kind.”

They followed the old man toward the door, and entered the house.

A lamp had been lighted while they were disposing of their wheels, and the girl was standing where the unsatisfactory light showed her face as plainly as was possible.

She was strikingly handsome, with dark hair and eyes and full red lips. An expectant flush of color was in her cheeks.

As Frank entered, the girl extended her hand to him, saying:

“I am glad to see you again, Mr. Merriwell. Have you forgotten me?”

“Good gracious!” cried Merriwell. “It is Vida Milburn!”

She tossed her head, her hand dropping by her side.

“That is not complimentary to me!” she exclaimed. “It shows you remembered my half-sister far better than you did me.”

“Your half-sister? Then you are not Vida!”

“No, thank you!”—with another haughty toss of the head.

“Then—then you must be—Isa Isban!”

“How remarkable that you should guess it,” she said, with biting sarcasm.

“But—you—you must remember it has been some time since I saw you, and—and I saw Miss Melburn last.”

“You saw me first, and you were so interested in me that you followed me from Reno to Carson City. After that you met my sister, and now you mistake me for her! I am extremely complimented, Mr. Merriwell! Never mind. You are not so many! Perhaps you will introduce your friends. Some of them may have a better memory than you.”

For once in his life, at least, Frank was “rattled.” He introduced Browning as Rattling and Diamond as Brownton, while he completely forgot Harry’s name.

The girl laughed sharply, plainly enjoying his embarrassment. She shook hands with all but Toots, saying:

“Mr. Merriwell doesn’t seem to be at his best. It is possible he has ridden too far to-day.”

Then Frank pulled himself together, and immediately became as cool and collected as usual, which was no easy thing to do.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Isban, but I was just thinking I had not ridden far enough.”

He said it in his most suave manner, but the shot went home, and it brought still more color to her flushed cheeks.

“Oh!” she cried, with the same toss of her head, “if your wheel is not broken, it is not too late to make several more miles before absolute darkness comes on.”

Diamond edged up to Frank, and whispered:

“Careful, Merry! You’re getting her very angry, and she is a mighty fine girl. Go easy, old man!”

This was very amusing to Merriwell, for but a short time before Diamond had expressed himself quite freely in regard to the girl, and it was plain his ideas had undergone a change since seeing her.

“Don’t worry,” Frank returned. “She won’t mind a little scrap. I think she will enjoy it. She is that kind.”

This did not seem to satisfy the young Virginian, who immediately set about making himself as agreeable as possible with Isa.

The boys were invited to sit down, and seats were provided for all of them.

Frank became rather serious, for thoughts of Hodge’s misfortune began to trouble him, and he remembered that this girl was responsible for it all.

Isa did not look a day older than when he had last seen her, and it was hard to realize that she was a woman with an experience and a dead husband.

Browning was silent and apparently contented. He seemed to take great satisfaction in sitting down and resting.

After a little silence, Isa observed, seeming to take a malicious satisfaction in what she said:

“One of Mr. Merriwell’s friends had not forgotten me, at least.”

“It might have been better for him if he had,” returned Frank, in a manner that surprised himself, for never before had he made such an ungallant remark.

The girl’s eyes blazed and she bit her lip. It seemed that she was on the point of an outburst, but she restrained herself and laughed. That laugh was defiant and angry.

“Oh, well, I don’t know!” she said. “The person I speak of may find I will stand by him better than some of his friends who would have looked on while he was dragged away to jail.”

This was a surprise to Frank, for it showed that the girl knew something about the adventure with Bill Higgins, which had taken place that day.

“So you have seen him since?” asked Merry, eagerly. “Where is he?”

“Find out.”

“I shall be able to find out in time, I think, Miss Isban.”

“As far as he is concerned, you need not worry, for I do not think he cares to see you again.”

“I do not believe that. He knows me too well, and he trusts me.”

“He thought he knew you, but he did not fancy you would remain passive and see him placed under arrest.”

“I did not.”

“What did you do?”

“I did not have an opportunity to do much except save his life.”

“Save his life?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I kept him from being bored by a bullet from Bill Higgins’ gun.”

“How did you do so much?”

“I spoiled Higgins’ aim.”

“Well, that was most remarkable! I presume you expect him to show the utmost gratitude for a service that any man might render another!”

She snapped her fingers toward Frank, laughing scornfully:

“That’s where you fool yourself. Mr. Hodge has told me that he hoped he might never meet you again. He has found other and better friends.”

“Perhaps you speak the truth.”

The manner in which Frank uttered the words implied not only a doubt but a positive belief that she was not speaking the truth and she did not misunderstand them. Her teeth clicked together, gleaming beyond her curved, red lips, and her hands were clinched. On her white fingers were a number of rings, set with diamonds, which flashed and blazed like her eyes.

“I care not whether you think I speak the truth or not,” she said, and turned her back upon him.

Diamond evinced positive distress.

“I can’t understand you, Merriwell!” he said, in an aside. “It is not at all like you. Why, you are always gallant and courteous to ladies.”

“That is right,” agreed Frank, with deep meaning. “I am.”

Jack did not like that.

“And you mean to insinuate that this beautiful girl is not a lady?”

“I have my doubts.”

“Still it seems to me that you have made a bad break in your treatment of her. You were very rude. That is not the way to treat a young lady.”

“It is not the way to treat the most of them; but, my dear fellow, you will have to learn that they differ as much as men. If you were to treat all men with the utmost courtesy and consideration, you would find that not a few would regard you as a weak-kneed slob. They would impose on you, and their opinion of you would sink lower and lower as you permitted them to continue their impositions without giving back as good as they sent. In this respect, there is a class of women who resemble men. Of course you cannot handle them as you would men, but you can’t be soft with them. A man who insulted you you would knock down. You can’t strike a woman, but you can strike her in a different way, and, in nine cases out of ten, if she is of a certain sort, she will think all the more of you in the end.”

“Well, I am sure you have made a mistake with Miss Isban. I could see her deep anger and hatred for you in her eyes. She would like to strangle you this minute.”

“I haven’t a doubt of it,” coolly smiled Frank, his manner showing not the least concern.

“She will hate and despise you as long as she lives.”

“If so, it will make little difference to me.”

Up to this time Jack had not dreamed that Frank could be anything but courteous and bending to a lady, and now the Southerner saw there was a turn to his friend’s character that he had not suspected.

Merriwell had not been at all brutal in his manner, but his words had touched Isa Isban like blows of a whip. They had stung her and stirred her blood, although they were spoken in a way that showed the natural polish and training of their author.

In truth the girl longed to fly at Frank Merriwell’s throat. She felt that she could strike him in the face with her hands and feel the keenest delight in doing so.

As she turned toward him again, there came a sharp knock on the door.