CHAPTER II.
FRANK SEEKS INFORMATION.
When they looked around for the guide whom they had employed to lead them to the only European hotel in the city it was found that the fellow had fled, affrighted by the encounter which had taken place in the square.
The boys were about to look for another guide when, with cries of surprise and joy, a small, red-whiskered man, dressed in a tourist’s traveling suit, such as is worn in hot countries, came hurrying toward them.
“Hang me ef I don’t b’lieve I’ve seen him afore!” exclaimed the boy from Vermont. “Them whiskers look nattral. It is——”
“Professor Scotch, as I live!” joyfully shouted Frank Merriwell. “Will wonders never cease! This is miraculous.”
The little man ran forward and caught Frank’s hands, looked into his face, as if making sure he was not mistaken, and then clasped the boy in his arms.
For some time the little man was nearly overcome with joyful emotions, and Frank was scarcely less delighted.
It was, in truth, Professor Horace Scotch, Frank’s guardian, who had thus marvelously appeared in Tangier.
Mutual explanations followed quickly. Frank told how he happened to be there, and then the professor related how on arriving in London he had received a letter from the boy, but had been disappointed beyond measure when Frank did not appear in due time. He had written scores of letters and sent many telegrams, but had been unable to learn anything more than that Frank had left Buenos Ayres in a vessel bound for South Africa, but which had been lost at sea.
The professor had nearly given up all hope of ever seeing his protégé again, thinking Frank must be dead. He resolved, however, to make every effort to ascertain the facts as to Frank’s fate, and had left London for that purpose.
The United States Consul at Tangier was an old friend of the professor, and thus it came about that Scotch had visited him.
Then the boys came.
The professor was so agitated that his explanation was somewhat incoherent, but Frank was able to get the drift of it.
When his excitement had subsided a bit, the little man began to scold. He soundly berated the boy for running off to South America without permission and continuing over the world on his own hook.
Frank listened quietly, a smile on his face.
“There, there, professor,” he finally said. “What’s the use of making a fuss about it. Wait till we get to the hotel, and I will explain more fully why I went to South America.”
So the professor led the way to the hotel.
The professor had obtained a native servant by the name of Azza, and the fellow was immediately dispatched for the luggage of the two boys, being given a written order by them.
While waiting for the luggage, the trio talked matters over.
Azza returned with the luggage in due time.
Both lads lost no time in exchanging their clothing for suits of white duck, suitable for the climate.
“There!” exclaimed Ephraim. “I feel better, by gum! Them wet duds warn’t comfortable.”
A square meal followed, and then Frank told the professor of their adventure since arriving in Tangier.
“Merciful goodness!” gasped the little man, with uplifted hands. “It’s a wonder you were not both killed. These Moors are dreadful creatures, and they do not consider the life of a Christian of any consequence. I have heard of Ben Ahmet. He is very rich.”
“I don’t care about him,” said Frank. “What I want to know is if that girl was truly his niece.”
The professor called Azza, and Frank questioned the fellow.
Azza declared that Ben Ahmet had a niece who was known far and wide as “the Pearl of Tangier,” a title which had been given her when she was yet a child. It was rumored that she was very beautiful. Her name was Igela.
Igela’s father, unlike most Moors, had traveled much outside his own country. Originally he was a very poor merchant, but it was said he had traveled as far as London and had learned tricks of trade from Christian dogs, so that he came back to his own country and soon made a fortune.
He was an exporter of goods, largely handling the caps made at Fez. One of his customers, a great English merchant, once visited him, and was received graciously in the Moor’s house. This was but shortly before the death of Igela’s father.
Igela was the old merchant’s only child. He regretted much that she was not a boy, for she displayed much business capability.
The old merchant left his property to his child, intrusting her to the care of his brother, Ben Ahmet.
Ben Ahmet had also made much money, but he was quite unlike his brother. He hated Christians so that he would not do business with them, and he would not speak a word of their language, although he understood much of it.
Seeing that Igela was budding into womanhood and was very beautiful, Ben Ahmet made her conceal her face with a veil. Still she was known far and wide as the Pearl of Tangier.
There were many who sought Igela for a wife, but it was said that she had acquired strange notions of marriage, and had refused to accept the man whom her uncle chose, saying she would suit herself in that matter.
That was all Azza knew about her.
“Very interesting,” commented Frank; “and still unsatisfactory. It seems that Igela knew me to-day, and that she can speak almost perfect English. Who is Ali Mustaf?”
“He is a powerful cadi, or tax-gatherer,” answered Azza. “It is said that he seeks the Pearl for a wife.”
“Ha! Then that explains his remarkable interest in her, and it likewise explains why she fled from him. This is becoming as interesting as a romance. I feel in duty bound to offer her my assistance. But how am I to do so?”
That was a question not easily answered, and Frank puzzled over it for a long time.
Professor Scotch was alarmed by what had happened, by Frank’s manner, and by the threat which the Moor had uttered against the boys. He was in favor of getting out of Morocco without delay, but Frank had no thought of being frightened away thus quickly.
“Look here, Azza, old boy,” he said, “I’ll make it worth your while if you will take a note to Igela. Can you do it?”
“I can try.”
“Well, that is something.”
In vain the professor urged him not to send a note, nor to attempt to communicate in such a manner with the mysterious girl.
“Don’t get fluttery, professor,” advised Frank, coolly. “If you try to be too strict with me, I may take a fancy to run away again.”
The professor groaned.
“You are incorrigible,” he declared. “It is impossible to do anything with you.”
So Frank wrote the note and sent Azza out with it, offering him a tempting reward if he would deliver it into the hand of Igela, and warning him to give it up to no other person. He worded it briefly as follows:
“To Igela, ‘The Pearl of Tangier’:
“Are you in trouble? Do you need assistance. If so, tell me how I may aid you.
Azza was away from the hotel for nearly two hours. At length he returned and placed a folded paper in Frank’s hand, saying simply:
“This is her answer.”
Eagerly Frank opened the paper, but in a moment a look of disappointment came over his face.
“It is written in Arabic,” he said. “I cannot read it.”
Azza bowed low.
“It will give me great pleasure to read it for you,” he said.
Frank scanned the fellow closely.
“Can you read writing?” he asked, as if somewhat doubtful.
Azza assured him that he could both read and write. Frank hesitated a moment, and then passed the note to the servant. Azza translated it as follows:
“I am in great trouble, and you can aid me. Come this evening at nine. Azza will guide you. Trust all to him.
Frank frowned, and then he questioned the Arab.
Azza told how he had found the house of Ben Ahmet, and had lingered till he saw one of the sheriff’s servants whom he knew. By the servant he had sent word to Igela, and she had finally appeared at the parapet of the terrace. Then Azza had attached Frank’s note to a small stone, which he had tossed to her. She had read it, had written the reply, and then had instructed Azza to guide Frank to a certain spot that evening, saying she would be there.
Frank was not quite satisfied with this story.
“It is rather remarkable that she could read my note, written in English, and could not write a reply in English,” he said, watching the face of the Arab closely.
“She was much excited,” Azza calmly explained. “She feared much that she might be seen.”
“But that doesn’t explain why she did not write in English.”
“She must have forgotten in her haste and excitement.”
Frank was forced to confess to himself that such a thing would be very natural, but still he questioned Azza. It became evident, after a little, that the Arab was very shrewd or perfectly truthful, and the boy was inclined to think him the latter.
Frank went to his room and pondered over the matter for some time. He realized that by many he would be considered foolish in his attempt to aid this unknown girl.
But his curiosity was thoroughly aroused. He could conceive of no possible way that she could have known him in the past, and yet she had fled to him for assistance, calling him by name.
A mystery of that sort was quite enough to make Frank determined to seek the solution.
And never had he turned away when appealed to by beauty in distress. That this girl was in trouble and hoped for assistance from him was certain.
“I will go to her to-night,” he resolved. “I will aid her, if it lays in my power to do so. That is settled.”
Ephraim came into the room and found Frank putting on a lead-colored garment, which he wore beneath his outer shirt.
Frank showed his comrade the note from Igela, and explained what the girl had written.
Ephraim looked doubtful, and shook his head in a sober way.
“I’m afeared yeour goin’ to git into a heap uv trouble, Frank,” he said. “I’ll bet a big squash Mister Ahmet is kainder keepin’ watch uv yeou, an’ he’ll know ef ye try to see the gal.”
“Oh, you are getting to be a veritable croaker, Ephraim. I am not afraid of Ben Ahmet, and I am determined to have a talk with Igela.”
“Wal, I ruther guess yeou’ll do jest as yeou durn please, fer I’ve alwus noticed yeou do. Yeou’d better take me along with ye.”
“Not on this trip, Ephraim. I am going to go it alone.”
Still Frank was doubtful, although he would not confess it, even to himself. He carefully examined his revolvers, taking both of them.
Professor Scotch came in and expressed his curiosity over a queer little cabinet which Frank had taken from his trunk.
“Oh, that’s a curiosity I picked up,” explained the boy. “I fancied it might come in handy some time, and I mean to carry it home with me.”
“But what in the world is it?” asked the professor, endeavoring to open it, but being unable to do so. “How do you get into the thing?”
“This way.”
Frank touched the cabinet, and the top flew open, while up shot the head of a serpent with forked tongue and fiery eyes, seeming to hiss and strike at the professor.