“Dot vos vunny! Vot you vos gryin’ vor?” “Oh! oh! Because—because I am so—so affected—by—your—singing!” She managed to utter the words, and then she fell over into the arms of a girl friend and went into another paroxysm. Hans was in doubt. Somehow it did not seem to him that she was weeping, but she had said so, and he concluded that it might be her way of shedding tears. “Vot you thinks uf dot, Misder Pruce Prowning?” he demanded. “You nefer made anypody gry your singing py your whole life in.” “That’s all right, Hans; but this matter is serious. You have broken her all up, and she is liable to have convulsions and die. If she expires, you will be responsible.” “Shimminy Gristmas!” “It will be a very sad affair, but you have committed murder already.” “Vot?” squawked Hans. “Murter? Vot you meant py dot?” “You just murdered ‘The Old Oaken Bucket’ in the most horrible manner.” Hans gasped and gurgled, and then he grew red in the face. Leaning toward Bruce, he hoarsely hissed: “I don’d vant to made any drouble der bresence uf der laties in, but I vill fighted you on der oudside der house uf a minute in uf you dare gone ut mit me!” But Bruce declined to go out. Time flew swiftly that evening. ’Mid games, charades, music, refreshments, merry chatter and merry laughter, eleven o’clock came round with amazing speed. Just as the clock was striking eleven, Hattie Hazle came in from another room to the parlor, where most of the guests were, and hurried straight toward Frank Merriwell. She was seen to whisper something in his ear. Frank looked surprised and doubtful, and then she appeared to urge him to do something, and he finally smiled and nodded. A moment later, he arose and left the room. Hattie had fancied that her act was unobserved, for Hans Dunnerwust was attempting to tell a funny story, and he had snarled himself up in such a manner that everyone seemed shouting with laughter and giving their entire attention to him. But Jack Diamond had not missed the girl’s act, and on his face there was a look of displeasure and anxiety. When Merry started to leave the room, the Virginian reached out a hand as if to stop him, but seemed to change his mind, for he let Frank go. But Jack watched Hattie closely. He saw her join in with the merry throng and seem as light-hearted and gay as any of them. Indeed, Hattie and Mabel were leaders in their set. Diamond did not mean to take his eyes off the dark-haired girl, but Browning came up, suppressing a yawn with an effort and said: “I’m getting bored. When are we to make our escape?” “Oh, very soon, I think,” said Jack. “It is getting late.” “The party will not break up before twelve. Are we to remain and see the agony through?” “I don’t know. Merriwell will settle——” Diamond paused and began to look around the room, an expression of anxiety on his face. “She’s gone!” he muttered. “Eh?” grunted the big Yale man. “What did you say?” “Do you see Hattie Hazle anywhere?”