Frank seemed to be dreaming, for, with a far-away stare, he was gazing straight into the flames, apparently quite unaware of his surroundings. In the flaring fire he saw strange pictures of events in his own career--a career such as had never before fallen to the lot of a boy of his years. He seemed to behold the scores of perils through which he had passed, and before him seemed to flit the faces of the many friends and foes he had made. He saw the foes of his school days--Snell, Bascomb, Gage, and all the others--skulk past in procession. Snell had a sneaking, treacherous look on his face, Bascomb swaggered along in the old bullying manner, and Gage seemed to be driven along by the Evil One, who was constantly goading him to rash and desperate things. Then he saw the face of his most deadly enemy, his own cousin, Carlos Merriwell; but it no longer bore a look of malignant hatred, for it was white and cold in the last long sleep. There were other enemies who had sprung up along his path, but they seemed like shadows in comparison to the ones of his school days. Following these came others, and the dark look faded from his countenance. He saw Bart Hodge, who had once been his bitter enemy, but who had become his stanchest friend. Hodge held out a hand to him, as if longing to render aid in this hour of need. Then came scores of others, the cadets at Fardale, the professors, and, last of all, the girls who had admired him and believed him noble and true. Elsie Bellwood smiled at him sadly, and pointed to a mighty barrier that lay between them; Kate Kenyon tried to reach him, and then drew back, with a hopeless shake of her head; others came and flitted past, and last of all Inza Burrage was there, holding out her hands to him, her dark eyes full of trust. "Inza!" The name fell from his lips, and it aroused him. Barney had fallen asleep, and was snoring beside the fire. But what was that? Did he still dream? Just beyond the fire, within the outer circle of light, stood a girl! Frank rubbed his eyes and looked again. She was still there, and she was pressing a finger to her lips, as if asking for silence. "Great Scott!" muttered Frank, in a dazed way. "Sh!" came back across the fire. "Do not wake him." She motioned toward the sleeping Irish lad. Frank pinched himself. "Yes, I am awake myself," he said, guardedly. "And it is a girl--a pretty girl at that! How in the name of all that is wonderful does it happen there is a girl here?" "You have no time to ask questions," came back swiftly, in a low, musical voice. "You are in a bad snare, Frank Merriwell." The boy started violently. "How is it that you know my name?" he demanded, astonished beyond measure. "I tell you you have no time to ask questions. Why did you come here?" "You seem inclined to ask questions. I came because I could not help it." "That is not true. You came to search for the hiding place of the last of the Danites. You may as well confess it."