“I’m going to try to get track of Mr. Joseph Gaddis,” answered Merriwell grimly. “When I do——” The manner in which he paused and failed to complete the sentence was very expressive. “I don’t blame you!” cried Hodge. “Mr. Gaddis must explain why we have been treated in this outrageous manner. He agreed to meet us at the station and have accommodations for us at the best hotel in town. He has broken his contract, and I’d like to break his face!” “That wouldn’t help matters much, Bart.” “But it would relieve my feelings in a wonderful manner.” “There is something behind this affair that we do not understand,” said Merry. “In order to understand it we’ll have to learn the facts.” “You’re sure Gaddis was in earnest when he made that contract with you in Omaha?” questioned Rattleton. “If ever I saw a man who seemed to be in earnest, Mr. Gaddis was such a man. He witnessed our great seventeen-inning game with the Nebraska Indians and lost no time after that in seeking to arrange a game with us to be played here. Stated that his team had beaten the Indians twice out of three times last season, and Green, the manager of the Indians, acknowledged that it was so. The inducements offered were satisfactory. We could reach this town without going out of our way on the trip East, and I finally made a contract with him. Here we are.” “And where, oh! where is Gaddis?” sighed Ready. Reaching the main street of the town, they entered a drug store and inquired for Mr. Gaddis. The druggist looked them over in a peculiar manner. He knew Gaddis very well, he said. Gaddis was out of town. Left suddenly that very morning for Des Moines. At this moment a handsome open carriage, in which sat a woman heavily veiled, drew up before the door. The lady waited until the druggist’s clerk stepped out to see what she wanted. A moment later the clerk re-entered the store and asked if Mr. Merriwell was there. “That is my name,” said Frank. “The lady in the carriage wishes to speak to you,” said the clerk. “What’s this? what’s this?” muttered Jack Ready. “How could she miss me? My ravishing beauty should have appealed to her. I am fast coming to the conclusion that beauty like mine is a decided disadvantage. It awes the fair sex.” Wondering who the unknown woman could be and what she wanted, Merry left the store. “Are you Mr. Merriwell?” inquired the woman, as Frank stepped up to the carriage and lifted his hat. “I am—miss.” He had quickly decided that she was young, and diplomacy led him in his uncertainty to address her as miss instead of madam. Her veil was so heavy that it was absolutely baffling, permitting him to obtain no view of her features that would give him a conception of her looks. Her voice was musical and low and filled with strange, sweet sadness. There was about her an air of mystery that struck Frank at once. “I believe you are looking for some place to stop while in town?” she observed questioningly.