“He is no spotter,” she declared. “He is Frank Merriwell, the actor who is playing at the Crawford. I suppose he came in here to enjoy himself, the same as any man may. He has behaved himself, and this brutal assault is an outrage.” “Mab!” cried a shaking voice, and the man who had claimed to be her husband forced his way forward, his face bruised and cut and bleeding from the blows he had received, “have you gone crazy?” “No!” she shouted back. “But I’ve seen enough of this! Shame on you, Reg, to try to get revenge like this just because he was too sharp to bite your bait! As for that fellow who planned the job, he’s a cheap actor who was kicked out of Merriwell’s company, and he has been trying to do something to get revenge. I’m disgusted with him!” It seemed that the woman was well known there, and her words carried some weight. It was useless for the man to protest, she showed her scorn for him and expressed her admiration for Frank Merriwell. “He’s going out of here!” she declared, “and not another one of you will lift a hand against him! I’ll shoot the dog that tries it. I promise you that, and you know Queen Mab always keeps her promises.” “What she says goes,” declared a man. “You may as well let the young fellow alone. She’ll take him out.” “I’m not going without Daisy Blaney,” muttered Frank, looking round. “Where is she?” Daisy was found, and the three moved toward the door. No one offered to stop or molest them. When the street was reached, the woman stopped and put up her revolver. She laughed a little. “I rather admired you this morning, Mr. Merriwell,” she said. “I found you were too shrewd to be caught in such a trap as we had set for you. But more than ever I admire you now since I have seen you fight a dozen men and nearly prove a match for them all. You are all right, my boy, and you’ll not be troubled again by Queen Mab.” Then, before Frank could say a word, she whirled about and ran back into the building. They were standing there in the light from the doorway when there came a cry, and a woman came running up, flinging her arms about the girl. “Daisy!” she screamed. “My child, I have found you!” “Mother!” exclaimed the girl, putting her arms round the aged woman and supporting her. “Mr. Merriwell found me and told me you were here, searching for me. Oh, mother, mother! I am so sorry!” The woman was crying. Between her sobs, she exclaimed: “Daisy, you will—go back—home? Father is—sorry! He’ll forgive and—forget, if you’ll—come back. I have been distracted! You—you’ll kill me if you don’t—come home! Won’t you come?” “Yes, mother,” said the girl, now breaking into tears, “I’ll come home!” “Well,” uttered Frank Merriwell, “this has been a rather lively night, but it has turned out most satisfactory in all ways.” * * * * *