A short time later, the Blue Cove boys were pulling up the river in their boat, while Diamond was riding in one direction and Merriwell in another.

Frank arrived at the Cove ahead of the crew. He found a pretty little spot, with a hotel set back on an elevation from the water, while the academy was surrounded by well-kept grounds and tall trees.

It was the vacation season at the academy, but two of the professors lived in the building the year around, and by the rule of the institution, the annual boat race on the Potomac was not allowed during the spring term. For some years it had been a midsummer event, a number of students remaining at the academy and getting into trim after the spring term was over.

As the Cove was something of a summer resort, where there were often many pretty girls, this was a pleasure instead of a hardship, and the rivalry for the crew was intense.

Often from six to a dozen students besides the crew remained at Blue Cove during the summer, and at the time of the race every student who could get there was on hand.

There were nearly a dozen cottages at the Cove, and Frank’s first view of the place brought a cry of delight from his lips.

Amid the trees, hammocks were swung, and in them could be seen several girls in light dresses, idly perusing paper-covered novels or chatting with the young fellows who lingered near.

There were two large tennis courts, and upon one of these, despite the warm sun, a party of four, two fellows and two girls, were engaged in a most exciting game.

Above the Blue Cove Academy boathouse flew a beautiful flag, and several pleasure boats lay beside a float, or were moored at a distance from the shore.

“Great stuff!” exclaimed Frank, with satisfaction. “And to think we might have missed this place but for the little adventure down the river. We won’t do a thing here but have sport!”

Straight to the hotel he rode, attracting some attention. Soon he had disposed of his wheel, and made arrangements for the accommodation of his party, fortunately being on hand in time to take some rooms left vacant by some visitors who had departed that morning.

Having settled this matter, Frank went out to look for Kent Spencer and the crew. He found they were not yet in sight, and he was devoured by curiosity to learn without delay what friend of his was stopping at the Cove.

Being thus impatient, Frank made inquiries about a retired sea captain who lived in the neighborhood.

He was told that an old sea captain by the name of Tobias Barnaby lived about half a mile away. Barnaby was said to be queer, having considerable money, but being rather close-fisted and mean.

Frank was shown a path that led over a rise and through some timber to Barnaby’s home, and he immediately set off in that direction.

Merry’s curiosity seemed to increase as he hurried along the path. What friend of his could be stopping with this queer old sea captain? It was some one who had spoken well of him to Kent Spencer.

The timber through which the path passed was rather thick, and Frank did not obtain a sight of the old sailor’s home till he came out suddenly and saw the wood-colored roof of the old house showing amid the trees in a little hollow at his feet.

“Well, that’s a cozy nest!” he muttered, as he paused to admire the picture; “and the last place in the world where I should expect to find any one who knows me.”

At that moment he was startled by a sound that came from the midst of the trees near the back of the house.

“Go away and let me alone!” sounded the voice of a girl. “If you don’t—— Help! he-e-e-lp!”

The cry for help was uttered in a smothered, frightened manner, and it stirred Frank Merriwell’s blood from his crown to his toes.

“I think I am needed down there!” he muttered.

With that, he went leaping down the steep path at breakneck speed.

“Stop your screaming!” roughly commanded a voice. “I won’t hurt you, you little fool! But I am going to kiss you, and you can’t stop me, for I know old Barnaby is away. I saw him row off in his boat.”

“Help—help! Kate!” cried the appealing voice of the girl from the midst of the trees back of the old house.

These voices served to guide Frank. He left the path and rushed toward the spot from whence the frightened appeal came, his feet making very little noise on the grass.

In a moment he came upon a spectacle that fired his heart with the greatest rage.

A girl with golden hair was struggling in the arms of a young fellow, who was doing his best to hold her while he pressed a kiss upon her unwilling lips.

And that young fellow was Rolf Harlow!

Frank recognized his enemy at a glance, and the sight of the fellow added to the consuming fury burning in his breast.

By brute strength, Harlow overcame the girl, and, as he held her helpless in his arms, he laughed triumphantly, crying:

“What’s the use to make so much fuss! I won’t hurt you. I was stuck on you the first time I saw you, my little peach, and I made a bet that I’d kiss you within two days. I must do the job now, or lose my bet.”

“Then you will lose your bet!”

Rolf heard the words, but he had no time to turn and meet Frank, who was right upon him.

In a moment, Frank had torn the girl from Harlow’s arms, and planted a hammer-like blow under the fellow’s ear.

Merry’s knuckles cracked on the neck of the young ruffian, and Harlow went down as if he had been struck by a club.

With the girl on his arm, his fist clinched, Frank stood over Rolf, ready to give him another if he tried to get up.

But Harlow lay gasping and quivering on the ground, knocked out for the moment.

The girl, who was almost swooning, slipped her soft arm about Frank’s neck, and then, to his astonishment, he heard her whisper:

“Frank! Frank! is it you—can it be?”

Then he looked at her, and, to his unbounded astonishment and joy, he saw resting against his shoulder the sweet, flower-like face of Elsie Bellwood.

Was he dreaming? For a moment it seemed that he must be. He doubted the evidence of his eyes.

Was this Elsie, his old-time girl, of whom he had thought so often and so tenderly—Elsie, of whom he had dreamed, and whom he longed to see—Elsie, blue-eyed, golden-haired, trusting and true!

How his heart leaped and fluttered! How the love-light leaped into his eyes! How his stern face softened!

It was Elsie—dear little Elsie—the old sea captain’s daughter, and, if possible, she was sweeter, prettier, more attractive than when last he had seen her.

She was pale when he first looked at her, but as she saw the joyous light of recognition in his eyes, the warm color stole into her cheeks, and she gasped with a delight that was almost childish.

“It is!” she panted; “it is Frank—my Frank!”

He drew her close to him, forgetting the scoundrel he had knocked down. Both his arms were about her, and for the moment the joy of his heart was too deep for words.

She lay in his strong arms, laughing, almost crying, half hysterical, wholly happy. From the terror and despair of a few moments before to relief and joy of the present was so great a revulsion of emotions that she felt herself incapable of any movement or act.

It was the same noble fellow she knew so well, only it seemed that he was handsomer and nobler in appearance than ever before. He was older, and there was more than a hint of dawning manhood in his face.

For the time, wrapped about with the unbounded delight of their unexpected meeting, they were utterly oblivious to their surroundings. They did not see Rolf Harlow struggle to a sitting posture, rubbing the spot where Frank’s fist had been planted. They did not see him glaring at Merriwell with deadly hate, while he felt to make sure that his revolver was where his hand could find it quickly.

Harlow arose quietly to his feet, assuming a crouching posture, ready to leap upon Frank, whose back was toward him.

At that instant, a handsome, black-eyed girl came running around the corner of the house, closely followed by another lad, the latter being the spy Merriwell and Diamond had detected in the bushes farther down the river.

A cry from the lips of the girl warned Frank, and caused him to whirl quickly about. As he did this, Harlow leaped and struck out with all his strength.

Frank was able to dodge slightly and avoid the full force of the blow. However, he did not escape it entirely, and it staggered him. He released his hold upon Elsie immediately, for Harlow was closely following up the attack, and Merriwell saw he was in for a fight with the furious young scoundrel.

That would have not alarmed Frank, but Harlow called to the other lad:

“Here, Radford, jump in here and help me thump the stuffing out of him! He’s alone! It’s the chap who caught you down the river, and he just hit me a thump when I wasn’t looking. Come on!”

“I’m with you!” shouted Radford. “We’ll lick him till he can’t stand! This is our chance to get square!”

He hastened to join Harlow in the attack upon Frank.

Merriwell laughed. It was his old, dangerous laugh, which came from his lips when he was most aroused in time of peril.

“Come, on!” he invited, promptly. “Sail right in and lick me! I’ll watch and see how you do it! The way I feel now, it would take four or five more such chaps as you to do that little job! There is one for you, Radford!”

Harlow had struck at Frank. Merry dodged under his arm, came up behind him, and struck Radford a stinging blow before Rolf could turn about.

Then a furious struggle began, while the two girls, clasped in each other’s arms, looked on in terror, fearing the dauntless fellow who was battling against such odds would be severely punished.

“Who is he, Elsie?” gasped the other girl. “Isn’t he brave! Isn’t he smart! Oh, I never saw a fellow who could fight like that! I do admire a fellow who can fight!”

“It’s terrible!” whispered timid little Elsie, her hands clasped in distress. “A fight always terrifies me! But they can’t whip him!” she declared, with the utmost confidence. “I know they can’t!”

“Who is he? You must know him, and you have not told me who he is.”

“That is Frank Merriwell, of whom I have told you so much, Kate,” said Elsie, proudly. “He is the bravest fellow in the whole world!”

“Frank Merriwell?” cried Kate Spencer, for it was Kent Spencer’s sister. “How can that be? How comes he here?”

“I don’t know yet, but he came just in time to save me from that Rolf Harlow, whom I fear and detest. He knocked Harlow down.”

“And Berlin Radford was holding me so I could not come to your assistance when you were crying for help. They knew Aunt Hannah had gone to the store, and they saw Uncle Tobias row away in his boat. That was how they dared do it.”

“Look!” gasped Elsie; “see how they are fighting now: It is dreadful!”

She covered her face with her hands, but the other girl continued to watch the fighting lads, her heart beating in sympathy for Frank Merriwell.

Radford was a savage fighter, and Merry found him even more formidable than Rolf Harlow. Radford was a member of the Alexandria Athletic Club, although he had been stopping in Blue Cove a few days.

Frank did not escape some punishment, but he skillfully managed to cause his enemies to interfere with each other to a certain extent, and when he did strike a blow they were certain to feel it.

Three times was Harlow sent to grass, and Radford was knocked down twice, the second blow causing blood to spurt from his nose, on which Merriwell’s hard fist had landed.

Still, encouraging each other, they pressed Frank hard. Finally, Radford got in a blow that brought Merriwell to his knees.

Elsie, who had uncovered her eyes, screamed with fear, and held her hands over her face once more.

Kate quivered with excitement and fear.

“Oh, the cowards!” she exclaimed. “He could whip either one of them alone!”

“And I can whip them both together!” panted Frank, who caught her words.

“On him—on him!” shouted Harlow. “Now is our time to do him up! We can finish him in a hurry!”

Both boys rushed at Frank. Radford was in advance. Merriwell ducked and arose. He had grasped Radford about the ankles, and he lifted the fellow into the air, flinging him clean over his head!

Radford fell and struck on his back, while Frank was barely in time to grapple with Harlow. Rolf’s rush swept Merriwell back, and both fell over Radford’s prostrate form.

Then the latter made a scramble, and the two pinned Frank to the ground!

They had him foul at last!