Daisy and her partner were seated at a table, and Frank walked past, hoping she would notice him. She did, and instantly she uttered an exclamation of surprise. “Frank Merriwell!” she cried, starting up. “What are you doing here?” “Miss Blaney,” said Frank, stopping and lifting his hat in the most respectful manner, fully aware that the red-headed youth was glaring at him in a savage manner. “I was looking for you.” “For me?” gasped the girl, in still greater astonishment. “Now you are chucking a jolly at me!” “Not a bit of it.” “Then come sit down. Mr. Merriwell, this is a friend of mine, Mr. Gallagher.” Frank acknowledged the introduction by a bow, and “Mr. Gallagher” growled something in his throat. Daisy urged him to sit down, but Frank did not fancy taking a seat in that place. However, in order to get an opportunity to talk with her, he finally seated himself, to the disgust of the youth with the red hair. “Wot’ll yer have?” demanded a waiter, appearing at Frank’s elbow the moment he was seated. “You may bring me a sarsaparilla,” said Merry, “and serve Miss Blaney and Mr. Gallagher whatever they choose to order.” “Sarsaparilla!” shouted the girl, with a laugh. “Oh, say, Merry, old fellow, have a beer! Babies drink soft stuff!” “Then I think you’ll have to class me with the babies,” said Frank. “Excuse me,” growled Gallagher, rising. “I don’t drink wid chaps that goozle that kind of stuff.” Then he walked away. Merry was satisfied to have the fellow depart. The moment Gallagher was gone, Daisy’s manner changed, and she swiftly said: “What made you come here? You are in danger!” “Danger?” exclaimed Frank, astonished. “Sure thing.” “What do you mean?” “Soon as I left you to-day, some men came up to me and asked me if I knew you. I chucked a bluff that you were a particular friend of mine. Then they offered me twenty-five dollars to decoy you into a dive where they could knock the stuffing out of you.” “This is interesting!” commented Merry, with a smile. “Both those chaps are here to-night!” said the girl. “Still more interesting.” “You had better get out right away. There are some scrappers here, and you wouldn’t stand a ghost of a show if they spotted you, and tried to lay you out.” “You must go with me, when I go, Miss Blaney.” “I must? What for?” “Your mother is in St. Jo. searching for you.” “My mother?” cried the girl, astounded. “Oh, come off your perch! What are you giving me?” “The truth. I met her a short time ago. She is nearly crazy, and she’s wandering up and down the streets to-night, searching for you, stopping every man and asking if he has seen you. She stopped me, and that was how I knew she was here.” The girl turned pale for all of the paint on her cheeks. “Heavens!” she gasped. “I didn’t think for a minute she would do such a thing! My mother wandering about the streets of this city to-night! It’s awful!” “Here’s yer drinks,” said the waiter, as he placed the glasses before them.