d.i.c.k turned to look for the girl. Pale and trembling, she stood with clasped hands, seemingly quite overcome by what had happened.

"Don't be afraid, miss," said Merriwell. "You are safe for the present."

She gave him a flashing look of admiration from her splendid blue eyes.

Then suddenly she seemed to think of the fallen man, and a moment later she was kneeling by his side, calling him by name and crying that he was dead.

"I do not think he is dead," said d.i.c.k, attempting to rea.s.sure her. "Let me see."

Even as the boy placed an inspecting hand on the breast of Tyrus the eyes of the man opened and he heaved a sigh. The girl gave a cry of grat.i.tude and relief. He turned on her a glance that made her tremble, and in his native tongue he began to mutter threats which sent her to her feet like a startled fawn.

"Don't waste your sympathy on him," advised Merriwell. "A man who can growl like that isn't badly hurt. He'll be all right in a short time."

"Then-then he make me marree Maro!" she gasped. "I better die!"

"What are we going to do about it, pard?" asked Brad. "Whatever can we do to help her?"

"That's a puzzling question," admitted d.i.c.k. "Evidently this man is her guardian, and we'll get into no end of trouble if we try to take her from him. She ought to be able to appeal to the proper authorities for protection."

"Tak' me to Charlee," entreated the girl.

"Charlie?" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "Who in the world is Charlie?"

"I love heem!" she declared. "He grandes' man in the world! He grandes'

man ever live! I marree Charlee!"

"Ah, ha! So that's the way the wind blows?" cried d.i.c.k. "There is another man in the case, and that's why old Tyrus is trying to force you to marry Maro?"

She nodded violently.

"Charlee come to tak' me to my father, in India," she said. "When Maro find that so he come to Tyrus, say I never go, say I marree heem. Tyrus say I must marree Maro. Say I never meet Charlee no more. That brek my heart. I cry no, no, no! They tak' me from home, so Charlee never find me when he come. They tak' me where I have to stay in small room all time till Maro marree me. I geet out. I run. I come here. Charlee say he come here often look at ruins. I think he may come now. I wait. Tyrus and Maro come find me. I try to run. I see you. I call for help. That all."

"It's enough!" cried d.i.c.k. "Where is this Charlie? We will take you to him."

She shook her head in distress.

"He somewhere in citee," she said, with a sweep of her hand.

"A whole lot indefinite," observed Buckhart.

d.i.c.k asked the girl if she did not know in what hotel Charlie was to be found.

She did not.

"What is the rest of his name?" questioned d.i.c.k. "Do you know it?"

"Whole name Charlee Cav'deesh," she declared.

"Cavendish?"

"That right."

"It's up to us, Brad," said Merriwell, "to find Charlie Cavendish as soon as possible."

"I opine it is," nodded the Texan.

"In the meantime," said the professor, "we'll all be arrested for kidnapping the girl. Boys, boys, is it impossible for you to keep out of sc.r.a.pes?"

"I'm afraid it is," confessed d.i.c.k.

CHAPTER XXIV.

MARO AND TYRUS.

Having beaten off the two Greeks, neither of the boys had a thought of surrendering the girl. They were determined to protect her, no matter what happened, until they could get word to Cavendish, who, she a.s.serted, was somewhere in Athens.

Tyrus made no objection when he saw the lads and the old professor departing with the girl in their midst. He sat up, staring after them, a wicked look on his face.

Barely had Zenas, the boys, and the girl disappeared from view when Maro reappeared amid the ruins of the Parthenon and ran swiftly to the spot where Tyrus sat.

"Why do you sit thus?" he demanded. "Did you not see them taking Flavia away?"

"I saw them," was the gruff answer.

"Then why did you permit it?"

"Why did you permit it?"

"You are her uncle."

"You are her lover."

"But you have the power."

"It is, indeed, little power I had after being dashed against this slab of marble."

"But yours is the authority."

"They are Americans."

"What of that?"

"Americans recognize no authority but that of might. They are wonderful fighters."

"They fight like fiends!" exclaimed Maro. "Who could think that those boys would dare attack us! And I was armed with a knife."