able, Miss--Isban."

Somehow, he stumbled over that name, to which he had taken such a strong
dislike.

"Thank you," she said, and he half fancied her lip quivered a bit. "You
have been very kind, Mr. Merriwell."

Frank's heart fluttered a bit; the train was drawing into the station;
the boy leaned toward her, his eyes shining, a flush in his cheeks.

"And now we are to say good-by, without the least probability of ever
seeing each other again," he said, his voice not quite steady.

She turned away for a moment, and then, as she turned back, she swiftly
said:

"It is possible we may never see each other again, but you have given me
your home address, and you say any letter I may send will be forwarded
to you. You may hear from me--some time."

"I may--but if you would promise to write----"

"I have told you I cannot promise that."

"And you will not give me your address?"

"I cannot for reasons known to myself. Do not ask me."

"Miss Isban, I believe you are in trouble--some things you have told me
have led me to believe so. If you need a friend at any time, let me hear
from you."

She gave him her hand, looked straight into his eyes, and said:

"I will."

The brakeman thrust open the door and shouted:

"Reno. Change here for Carson, Virginia City, Candelaria and Keeler."

The train came to a dead stop.

Frank escorted Isa from the car, carrying her traveling bag, which he
gave to her when the station platform was reached.

"Remember!" he breathed in her ear.

Her hand touched his, she smiled into his eyes, whispering:

"I will! Good-by."

He lifted his hat, as she turned away.

At that moment a youth came hurrying forward, lifted his hat, his face
radiant, and accosted Isa:

"Vida," he said, "I am here. You did not come when you said, but I have
been watching for you."

Frank staggered back.

"Caesar's ghost!" he palpitated. "Is it possible, or do my eyes deceive
me? Can that be Bart Hodge, my schoolmate, chum, and comrade of Fardale?
As I live, I believe it is! And he knows Miss Isban! What's the matter?
She does not seem to know him!"

The girl had drawn back, with an expression of alarm.

"I think you have made a mistake, sir," she said, rather haughtily.

"A mistake!" gasped the handsome youth, astonished and dismayed. "Why,
you know me! There is no mistake."

"But there is. I do not know you."

"Vida, you say that? Why, I am----"

"An impertinent young scoundrel!"

Smack!