At this moment Professor Gunn came prancing back into the room, very much excited in manner.

"I was sure of it!" he squawked, shaking a quivering finger in the air.

"I was sure I had heard of that old reprobate! I looked over my notes.

Boys, he's a miserable old rounder! He's a man with a bad record! He ought to be in prison! He would be in prison if he had his just deserts!

He disgraced himself and his family in England! He left his own country on account of his reputation. That's the kind of man he is."

"Who are you talking about?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Sir Augustus Camberwell," answered the professor. "And he's the friend of Cavendish!"

"Now we know how the land lays, partner," said Brad.

d.i.c.k rose to his feet, catching up his hat and light topcoat.

"Come, Buckhart," he said grimly.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going out to get some air. I'm afraid we have been chumps of the chumpiest variety."

"I'm with you," said the Texan.

"Boys, boys, boys!" spluttered the professor. "I hope you are not going to do anything more that is rash. I can't permit it. I must object. I must put my foot down."

"Don't worry about us, professor," said d.i.c.k. "I feel the need of a brisk walk to cool off. My indignation is getting the better of me."

Zenas hurried to the door.

"You shall not go until you promise me you will do nothing rash," he declared. "I shall not permit you to leave this room."

d.i.c.k managed to appease and rea.s.sure him in a short time, and soon he left the hotel, accompanied by his chum.

"What's your plan, pard?" asked Brad, as soon as they were on the street.

"I'm going direct to Cavendish and Camberwell," said d.i.c.k. "Unless Cavendish can satisfy me beyond the shadow of a doubt that his intentions toward Flavia are perfectly honorable, I'll denounce him to the authorities, and push the matter against him, even if I go to jail myself for it!"

"Whoop!" cried the Texan. "That's the stuff! We'll take to the warpath, d.i.c.k, and there will be things doing in Athens. You hear me shout!"

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE PURSUIT.

Although it did not take them long to retrace their steps to the hotel where they had left the Englishmen and the Greek girl, they met with a most surprising disappointment when they arrived there. They were informed that Cavendish, Camberwell, and Flavia had just left in a closed carriage. The carriage was pointed out to them, just disappearing down a street that seemed to lead toward the outskirts of the city.

Only a moment was d.i.c.k Merriwell nonplused. Then he called for saddled horses, and the money he displayed brought him the a.s.surance that his wants should be supplied.

"Lose not a second," he ordered. "We must overtake that carriage."

Buckhart was burning with impatience, but he bemoaned the fact that they were not armed.

"Oh, for a brace of revolvers now!" he cried. "If we had the guns we certain would take that girl away from them."

"We'll take her anyhow," declared d.i.c.k grimly.

Brad did not ask how they were going to do it, for he had perfect confidence in his bosom friend. If d.i.c.k said they would do a thing, that settled it-it was as good as done.

So it happened that in a very few moments the two daring American boys were mounted and riding at a breathless gallop along the street of that Greek city.

The carriage had disappeared from view some time before, but the boys kept on, hoping fortune might be with them.

Not far from the outskirts of the city d.i.c.k paused to question some laborers. One of the men could speak good English, and he immediately declared that he remembered the carriage. He directed them, and they were soon galloping onward once more.

The street they now followed quickly brought them to the open country outside the city. In the distance lay some low, rugged hills, which from that point seemed rather barren and forbidding. The road led up a steep incline.

"Pard," said Brad, "I'm sure afraid we've missed them. We can't see anything of them anywhere."

"Perhaps we have," admitted d.i.c.k; "but let's get to the top of this hill and take a survey."

They clattered up the hill. Near the crest, the road wound round the shoulder of an immense bowlder, which was fully as large as a small cottage.

Sitting on the ground with his back against the rock and his body in the sunshine, being fully protected from the rather chill wind that swept the top of the hill, was a ragged beggar. He held out his open palm to them.

"Drachma," he said. "Drachma."

"Whatever does he mean by that?" asked Brad.

"Money," said d.i.c.k. "Evidently he takes us for wealthy foreigners, else he would not ask for drachma, which has a value of something like twenty cents in our money."

d.i.c.k produced a coin and tossed it shimmering toward the beggar, who deftly caught it.

Then the boy began to question him, using a little "modern Greek" and many signs. The beggar was grateful and seemed anxious to understand and aid d.i.c.k. He even rose to his feet and drew nearer.

d.i.c.k sprang down from his horse, giving the bridle into the hand of his companion. With his finger he swiftly drew a crude picture in a patch of dust beside the road. It was the picture of a closed carriage.

The beggar understood in a twinkling. He nodded excitedly, jabbering in his own language and motioning for the boys to follow him. Turning, he ran to the point where the road disappeared round the shoulder of the bowlder, pausing again to beckon them on.

Merriwell leaped into the saddle and the two lads rounded the rock at the heels of the beggar. The man pointed along the road, and amid some bare trees on a slope half a mile away the carriage was plainly seen, a tiny cloud of dust rolling up behind it.

"Whoop!" shouted Buckhart. "There she is, pard! We're still on the trail!"

They did not pause to thank the beggar, but were off down the hill, the hoofs of their horses ringing clear on the hard and stony road.

It was dangerous to ride as they rode, for that strip of road was anything but good. Still they took chances and dashed onward.