“By a masher,” finished the man with the errant eye.
“Where is the lady?” asked the officer.
“There!”
All bowed politely toward the masked woman.
“Where is the masher?” was the next question.
“There!”
Their scornful fingers were leveled straight at Frank Merriwell.
CHAPTER XVII.—ARRESTED.
“Oh, sir!” exclaimed the woman, “I beg you to protect me from his insults!”
The officer was a gallant fellow. He touched his hat and bowed with extreme politeness. Then he frowned on Merry, and that frown was terrible to behold. He gripped Frank by the collar, gruffly saying: