Phebe was blushing crimson, but the roguish look was still in her eyes. Never in all her life had she looked prettier than in that moment of excitement and confusion. She lifted her hand and felt it grasped by Frank, and
then, in dismay, she turned and fled, laughing to cover her agitation. She quickly disappeared, but her laugh rang in Merriwell's ears, for it was quite as bewitching as her roguish eyes.
The landlord seemed to enjoy the agitation he had caused the girl, and he laughed again. In fact, he was quite a man to laugh.
He urged Frank to remain to dinner, and Merry finally consented, although Jack and Bart, who were likewise invited, decided to return to the yacht.
While they were talking, Moslof suddenly grasped Merriwell's arm, saying in his ear:
"Here's the fellow you want to see."
He turned Frank toward a person who had just entered the office. In a moment Merry advanced toward that person, confronted him, and sternly said:
"So, sir, having failed to injure me in other ways, you have been lying about me! Well, it's quite like you, Snell!"
"Merriwell?" gasped the other, recoiling and turning pale. "The dickens!"
Frank and his old foe, Wat Snell, were again face to face.