The procession formed without the flower barge, and was soon on its way once more, the band playing its liveliest tune.

The way was lined with tens of thousands of spectators, while flags fluttered from every building. All along the line the king was greeted with cheers and bared heads. It was a most magnificent spectacle.

The carriage bearing Frank and the professor had found a place in the procession through the skill of the driver, and the man and boy were able to witness this triumphal entrance of King Rex to the Crescent City.

At the City Hall, the Duke of Crescent City, who was the mayor, welcomed Rex with great pomp and ceremony, presenting him the keys and the freedom of the city.

Shortly afterward, the king mysteriously disappeared, and the procession broke up and dispersed.

Frank and the professor returned to the St. Charles Hotel, both feeling decidedly hungry.

Frank had little to say after they had satisfied their hunger and were in their suite of rooms. He had seemed to be thinking all the while, and the professor again repeated a question that he had asked several times:

"What in the world makes you so glum, Frank? What are you thinking about?"

"The Queen of Flowers," was the reply.

"My boy," cried the professor, enthusiastically, "I am proud of you--yes, sir, proud! But, at one time, I thought you were done for.

That steer was right upon you, and I could see no way for you to escape the creature's horns. I held my breath, expecting to see you impaled.

And then I saw you escape with no further injury than the slitting of your coat sleeve, but to this minute I can't say how you did it."

Frank scarcely seemed to hear the professor's words. He sat with his hand to his head, his eyes fixed on a pattern in the carpet.

"She knew my name," he muttered. "She spoke it distinctly. There can be no doubt about that."

Professor Scotch groaned dismally.

"There you go again!" he exclaimed. "Now, what are you mumbling about?"

"The Queen of Flowers."

"Confound the Queen of Flowers!" exploded Scotch. "You saved her life at the risk of your own, but you don't know her from Adam."

"She knows me."

"How is that?"

"She spoke my name."

"You must be mistaken."

"I am not."

Professor Scotch looked incredulous.

"Why, she was unconscious."

"She was when I saved her from the steer."

"And she recovered afterward?"

"Yes; just as Colonel Vallier was taking her to the carriage."

"And she spoke your name then?"

"Yes. First I saw her open her eyes, and I noticed that she was looking straight at me; then I heard her distinctly but faintly p.r.o.nounce my name."

The professor still looked doubtful.

"You were excited, my boy, and you imagined it."

"No, professor, it was no case of imagination; I know she called me Frank Merriwell, but what puzzles me is the fact that this young cad, Raymond, was determined I should not speak with her, and she was carried away quickly. Why should they wish to keep us from having a few words of conversation?"

"That is a question I cannot answer, Frank."

"There's a mystery here, professor--a mystery I mean to solve. I am going to find out who the Queen of Flowers really is."

"And get into more trouble, you hot-headed young rascal. I should think you were in trouble enough already, with a possible duel impending."

A twinkle of mischief showed in Frank's eyes.

"How about yourself, professor?"

"Oh, the young scoundrel won't dare to meet me," bl.u.s.tered Scotch, throwing out his chest and strutting about the room.

"But he is not the one you will have to meet. You exchanged cards with Colonel La Salle Vallier."

"As a mere matter of courtesy."

"That might go in the North, but you exchanged under peculiar circ.u.mstances, and, taking everything into consideration, I have no doubt but you will be waited on by a friend of Colonel Vallier. You will have to meet him."

"Hey!" roared the professor, turning pale. "Is it possible that such a result will come from a mere matter of politeness? Why, I'm no fighter, Frank--I'm no blood-and-thunder ruffian! I did not mean to hint that I wished to meet the colonel on the field of honor."

"But you have, and you can't back out now. You heard what Manuel Mazaro had to say about him. He is a dead shot and a skilled swordsman. Oh, professor, my heart bleeds for you! But you shall have a great funeral, and I'll plant tiddly-wink posies all over your grave."

"Caesar's ghost!" groaned Scotch, collapsing on a chair, and looking very ill indeed. "This is a terrible sc.r.a.pe! I don't feel well. I fear I am going to be very ill."

CHAPTER XVI.

PROFESSOR SCOTCH FEELS ILL.

Frank found it impossible to restrain his laughter longer, and he gave way to it.

"Ha, ha, ha!" he merrily shouted. "You surely look ill, professor! I'd like to have your picture now! Ha, ha, ha! It would make a first-rate picture for a comic paper."