Excitement in Bloomfield was at fever heat. Scores of visitors were in the town. The old hotel was filled to overflowing. Nearly all these guests were young men and women, and a pleasant, jovial lot they were.

Of course, the members of Frank’s athletic team were present to the last man. Besides these there were others who had been his chums and comrades in college. Bink Stubbs and Danny Griswold were together again, fussing in their old, friendly way. Dismal Jones had turned up from somewhere, as long-faced as ever, quoting Scripture to fit all occasions. Grog Carker appeared more rabid in his socialistic views than in the old days, and equally easy to lead into prophesying the coming of the “great earthquake that should overturn the social conditions of the whole world.”

A surprise that delighted every one was the appearance of Jack Diamond and his handsome wife, Julia, bringing with them a little Diamond somewhat more than a year old. Jack had “crossed the pond” to make a visit in Virginia and arrived just in time to hasten to Bloomfield for the wedding.

Barney Mulloy came on from the West, and his brogue seemed not a whit changed, while his wit and good nature remained quite as infectious.

It was the day before the wedding. A select party assembled at the station for the purpose of meeting Inza, who was to arrive on the afternoon train, accompanied by Winnie Badger, with Buck Badger and Bart Hodge as escorts.

Frank had reached Bloomfield earlier in the day.

As train time drew near a closed carriage that was quite unfamiliar in the village drew up beside the station platform. The curtains at the carriage windows were drawn. The carriage was drawn by two fiery horses. On the seat sat the driver, a wide-brimmed hat slouched over his eyes, while his features were almost wholly hidden by a profuse mass of whiskers.

Some of the people on the platform observed the driver closely. One man walked past and surveyed him. This man hastened to join some of the loungers.

“Say!” he exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper, “I bet ten dollars that feller’s wearin’ false whiskers!”

“Git out!” retorted several. “What makes you think so?”

“I seen Sile Levitt wear whiskers jest like them in the play over to the Four Corners Schoolhouse last winter.”

“You’re luny! What would that man want to wear false whiskers for? He ain’t in no play.”

Another carriage appeared. Mr. and Mrs. Diamond left it. They had come to meet Inza.

The train whistled in the distance.

In a few moments it whistled for Bloomfield station. It came rushing up to the platform and stopped. Inza and her companions were on board.

In the midst of the excitement the door of the strange closed carriage opened and a pale-faced young man stepped out. He fixed his eyes on Inza, who had descended from the train. She was dressed in a brown traveling suit and was acknowledging the merry greetings of the friends who had met her.

Bart Hodge had hastened away to look after the baggage.

The villagers were staring agape.

“Gosh!” exclaimed Bill Kimball, who had reached the station barely in time to see the passengers descend. “That’s her—that stunnin’ gal in brown! She’s got black eyes, an’ Toots told me she was black-eyed and the handsomest gal in the world. That’s her!”

“Who’s that pale-faced feller that’s jest got out of that kerriage?” asked a young chap, turning his quid of tobacco in his mouth. “He’s actin’ almighty queer.”

The person referred to was approaching Inza from behind, stepping softly. He was unobserved by the friends who surrounded her. Of a sudden he stepped forward, flung his arms round her, caught her from her feet and turned to dash with her toward the carriage. The door was open. The driver had his whip poised.

Inza screamed.

The man who had seized her flung her into the carriage and leaped after her, jerking the door closed with a slam.

The whip in the hands of the driver whistled through the air and cut the horses.

Away they leaped.

The astounded people on the platform had seemed dazed, but now they awoke and shouted.

Buck Badger, who had sauntered after Hodge, turned at Inza’s cry. He saw her flung into the carriage and saw the desperate man leap after her.

“The old boy’s to pay!” cried Buck, his hand going to his hip. “That’s whatever!”

Two strides brought him to the edge of the platform. As the horses turned toward the street beyond the station something bright glinted in the hand of the Kansan. This thing was leveled and a spout of smoke burst from it.

The sharp report of a revolver added to the excitement of the moment.

With that report one of the horses gave a convulsive leap and fell to the ground, dragging the other horse down. The uninjured animal was so entangled in the harness that he could do little damage kicking. The carriage was overturned.

Men rushed to the spot. From the upset carriage they dragged Inza Burrage, somewhat hysterical, yet practically unharmed. Likewise they pulled out the young chap who had tried to carry her off in such a crazy manner. He had been stunned, and made no resistance.

It was Fred Fillmore.

The village constable came bustling up while men and boys were at work extricating the uninjured horse.

“What’s this mean?” he demanded. “Who’s guilty of breakin’ the law here? Somebody’s goin’ to git arrested.”

“I opine there’s your man, officer,” said Buck Badger, pointing at Fillmore. “He’s either a criminal or a lunatic, and either way he should be taken into custody. That’s whatever.”

Hodge tried to reach Fillmore.

“The whelp!” he cried. “He——”

The constable seized the desperate young man.

“I arrest you in the name of the law!” he cried.

“Where’s the driver?” was the cry.

But the wearer of the false whiskers had found an opportunity to slip away and improved it.

*****

The little church was beautifully decorated and fragrant with flowers. It was well filled. There was a hush. The organ began to throb and a thrill ran over every person present.

Down one of the aisles slowly advanced the minister, carrying a little book in his hands. At a distance behind him came Frank Merriwell, looking handsomer than ever before in his life, accompanied by the best man, his bosom friend, Bart Hodge.

Merry’s heart was beating high with the mighty exultation of the grandest moment of his life. He turned with Bart and followed the minister toward the altar.

Suddenly the sound of the organ changed. The music became the “Wedding March.”

Down the centre aisle came a vision of loveliness, Inza Burrage in snowy white, with her veil flowing round her. She was somewhat pale, but never had she looked sweeter, and a more bridelike bride-to-be the sun could not shine on.

She was followed by a pretty girl friend, who was acting as bridesmaid. Elsie Bellwood was not there. That was the only thing that marred the occasion.

As Inza approached the altar Frank stepped out and met her.

A splendid couple they made. Many an eye grew dim as they stood there hand in hand and the minister began the ceremony.

No one dreamed what was to happen.

The ceremony had progressed until the minister was on the point of pronouncing Frank and Inza man and wife, when there came a startling interruption.

A wild-eyed youth dashed down the aisle.

“Hold!” he shouted. “I forbid this marriage!”

It was Fred Fillmore, who had somehow managed to escape from custody. The poor fellow was insane in his desire to stop the wedding. Indeed, drink and his passion for Inza had quite upset his mental poise.

Of course, his appearance created consternation, and Inza nearly swooned.

It happened that the constable and two deputies were close after Fillmore. They reached the church as Hodge, Badger, and Browning rushed Fillmore down the aisle to the door.

“Let me have him!” cried the officer. “I bet, by gorry! he don’t git away from me ag’in!”

“I should say you had better take care of him!” exclaimed Hodge, in disgust.

Although the wedding had been thus interrupted, Inza bore up bravely and the ceremony continued.

*****

That night there was a merry reception and wedding feast in the old home at Bloomfield. Frank and Inza were supremely happy, and their friends were sharers of their happiness.

That day had seen the crowning triumphs of Frank Merriwell’s career.

In truth, Fred Fillmore was mentally unbalanced. It became necessary to place him in a private sanitarium, although the examining physicians announced that there was a fair prospect that he might recover in time.

THE END

The Merriwell boys again score in dramatic successes in life and win additional friends in the next publication of the Merriwell Series, called “Dick Merriwell, the Wizard,” No. 126, by Burt L. Standish.