"This is the happiest moment of my life--if I am not dreaming! Frank, my dear boy, I never expected to see you again. How did you escape?"

"The eruption of the volcano broke the bandits up," explained Frank; "and, by the time they had recovered and were ready to come at us again, a band of natives, headed by Rodeo, Pacheco's brother, came down on them. A terrible battle ensued. The bandits were defeated, many of them slain, among the latter being the false Pacheco. And whom do you fancy the impostor proved to be, professor?"

"I haven't the least idea."

"He was my villainous cousin, Carlos Merriwell."

"And he is dead?"

"Yes."

"That is a good thing. He will not trouble you any more."

"No, I shall never be troubled by him again. With Rodeo and the natives was Jack Burk----"

"Jack Burk! The man is dead!"

"Not quite, professor," declared a familiar voice, and Burk himself stepped forward. "I am still quite lively for a dead man."

"But--I saw you dead!" declared the astounded professor.

"You saw me nearly dead, but not quite. You remember I told you of a native who had found me in the hut, and how he had said it was not a fever that ailed me, but was a trouble brought on by drinking the water of the spring near the hut?"

"Yes, I remember."

"And I told you the native hastily left me--left me to die alone, as I supposed."

"I remember that."

"He did not leave me to die, but went for an antidote. While you were away he returned and administered some of the antidote for the poison, bringing me around, although but a feeble spark of life fluttered in my bosom. Then he took me on his shoulders, and carried me from the hut to another place of shelter, where he brought me back to my full strength in a remarkably brief s.p.a.ce of time."

"I understand why we did not find you," said the professor.

"We followed the bandits," Jack Burk continued. "This native was Rodeo, the brother of the true Pacheco, and he is here."

Rodeo stepped forward, bowing with the politeness of a Spanish don.

"Rodeo made me swear to aid him in hunting down the murderer of his brother. That was the pay he asked for saving my life. I gave the oath, and it was his whim that I should not reveal myself to you till the right time came. But when I saw the spy tracking you, saw him locate you, and saw him hasten to tell the bandits, I was forced to appear and give a warning."

"We took you for a ghost."

"I thought it possible you might, and I fancied that might cause you to give all the more heed to the warning."

"Well, of all remarkable things that ever happened in my life, these events of the past few days take the lead," declared Scotch. "However, I have come through all dangers in safety, and I am happy, for Frank is alive and well."

"But the Silver Palace is gone, with all its marvelous treasure," said Frank.

"Thet's right, boy," nodded Bushnell, gloomily. "Ther palace has sunk inter ther earth, an' nary galoot ever gits ther benefit of all ther treasure it contained."

"Don't take it so hard, partner," said Jack Burk. "Mexico is the land of treasures, and we may strike something else before we cross the Death Divide."

"Vell," sighed Hans Dunnerwust, "you beoples can hunt for dreasure all you don'd vant to; but I haf enough uf dis pusiness alretty soon. I nefer vos puilt for so much oxcitemend, und I vos goin' to took der next drain for home as soon as I can ged to him. Uf I don'd done dot I vos afrait mein mutter vill nefer seen her leedle Hansie some more."

"I fancy I have had quite enough of Mexico for the present," smiled Frank. "The United States will do me a while longer, and so, if you are going home, Hans, Professor Scotch and myself will accompany you till we strike Uncle Sam's domain, at least."

A few days later, bidding their friends adieu, they left Mexico, taking their way northward to New Orleans, where new adventures awaited them, as the chapters to follow will prove.

CHAPTER XIII.

A STAMPEDE IN A CITY.

It was the day before Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and the "Queen City of the South" was in her gayest attire, being thronged with visitors from the North and from almost every part of the world.

It was Monday, when Rex, king of the carnival, comes to town and takes possession of the city.

Early in the forenoon the river front in the vicinity of Ca.n.a.l Street was thronged with people seeking advantageous positions from which to witness the king's landing.

It was a jovial, good-natured gathering, such as is never seen in any other city. Every one seemed to have imbibed the spirit of the occasion, and there was no friction or unpleasantness. Every one was exceedingly polite and courteous, and all seemed to feel it a duty to make the occasion as pleasant for other folks as possible.

The shipping along the river was decorated, and flags flew everywhere.

The sun never shone more brightly and New Orleans never presented more subtle allurements.

Seated in a private carriage that had stopped at a particularly favorable spot were Professor Scotch and Frank, who had arrived a few days before.

"Professor," said Frank, who was almost bursting with pent-up enthusiasm and youthful energy, "this makes a fellow feel that it is good to be living. In all the places we have visited, I have seen nothing like this. I am sorry Hans is no longer with us to enjoy it."

"And you will see nothing like it anywhere in this country but right here," declared the professor, who was also enthused. "Northern cities may get up carnivals, but they allow the spirit of commerce to crowd in and push aside the true spirit of pleasure. In all their pageants and processions may be seen schemes for advertising this, that or the other; but here you will see nothing of the kind. In the procession to-day and the parade to-morrow, you will see no trade advertis.e.m.e.nts, no schemes for calling attention to Dr. Somebody-or-other's cure for ingrowing corns, nothing but the beautiful and the artistic."

Frank laughed.

"It's seldom you speak like this, professor," he said. "You must be in love with the South."

"I am a Northerner, but I think the South very beautiful, and I admire the people of the South more than I can tell. I do not know as they are naturally more gentle and kind-hearted than Northerners, but they are certainly more courteous and chivalrous, despite their quick tempers and more pa.s.sionate dispositions. Northerners are too brusque. If they ask pardon for rudeness, they do it as if they regretted the breath spent in uttering the words. It is quite the opposite with Southerners, for they seem----"

"Hold on, professor," interrupted Frank. "You may tell me all about that some other time. Hark! hear the whistles on the river? The king must be coming!"

"Yes, he is coming."

There was a stir among the people, a murmur ran over the great throng.

Then the royal yacht, accompanied by more than a dozen other steamers, all gayly decorated, was seen approaching.

The great crowd began to cheer, hundreds of whistles shrieked and roared at the same instant, bands of music were playing, and, as the royal yacht drew near the levee at the foot of Ca.n.a.l Street, the booming of cannons added to the mad uproar of joy.

All over the great gathering of gayly dressed people handkerchiefs fluttered and hats were waved in the air, while laughing, excited faces were seen everywhere.