away.

Sweet strains of music floated down to the ears of the restless lads,
and, with each passing moment, Frank grew more and more disgusted with
himself.

"To think that I might be in there--might be waltzing with the Queen of
Flowers at this moment, if I had asked the professor to obtain the
invitations!" he cried.

"It's harrud luck!" said Barney; "but ye'll know betther next toime."

"Next time will be too late. In some way, I must meet this girl and
speak to her. I must, and I will!"

"That's th' shtuff, me b'y! Whiniver ye say anything loike thot, ye
always git there wid both fate. Oi'll risk yez."

Two men in dress suits came out to smoke and get a breath of air. They
stood conversing within a short distance of the boys.

"She has been the sensation of the day," said one. "The whole city is
wondering who she is."

"She seems determined to remain a mystery."

"Yes, for she has vanished from the ballroom in a most unaccountable
manner. No one saw her take her departure."

"Not even Rolf Raymond."

"No. He is as much mystified as anybody. The fellow knows her, but he
positively refuses to disclose her identity."

Frank's hand had fallen on Barney's arm with a grip of iron, and the
fingers were sinking deeper and deeper into the Irish lad's flesh as
these words fell on their ears.

"It is said that the young fellow who saved her from the steer to-day
does not know her."

"No. She saw him in the crowd to-night, and flung him her crown, calling
him a hero. He was nearly mobbed by the crowd, that was determined to
know his name, but he escaped in some way, and has not been seen since."

"That settles it!" Frank hissed in Barney's ear. "They are speaking of
the Flower Queen."

"Sure," returned the Irish lad; "an' av yersilf, Frankie, b'y."

"She is no longer in the ballroom."

"No."

"We are wasting our time waiting here."

"Roight ye are."

"Then we will wait no longer. Come, we'll go to the hotel."

CHAPTER XIX.

A HUMBLE APOLOGY.

Barely were they in their apartments at the hotel when there came a
knock on the door, and a boy entered, bearing a salver on which were two
cards.

"Colonel La Salle Vallier and Mr. Rolf Raymond," read Frank. "Bring them
up."

"What's that?" roared Professor Scotch, from the bed. "Are you crazy?"

Frank hustled the boy out of the room, whispering:

"Bring them up, and admit them without knocking."

He slipped a quarter into the boy's hand, a