“I have your promise. Here is Forest City, and the boat is going to stop. You had better get off here. I will leave it at the island. Good-by.”
The little steamer was swinging in to the landing at the settlement. But, just then, Frank Merriwell had eyes for no one save the handsome girl at his side. She held out her hand and he took it. He started a bit, realizing she had removed the glove from that hand, and it was warm and plump in his grasp.
“Good-by!” she whispered.
“But there is one thing you have forgotten,” said Frank, hastily, looking down into her eyes and feeling himself drawn toward her by a strange attraction.
“What is it?”
“Your name.”
“So I did.”
The boat swung gently in to the landing, was made fast, and the plank run out.
“She will not stop here long,” said the girl.
“But your name?” urged Frank. “You have not told me yet.”