“I know her,” asserted Frank. “But I can’t think of her name at this minute. I feel certain I have seen her under far different circumstances and far from this city.” “Well, I don’t think I ever saw her before,” confessed Diamond. “I’m going to speak to her,” said Merry. “I shall puzzle over her identity if I do not, and I am absolutely certain I know her.” He advanced to the window, lifted his hat gracefully, saying: “I beg your pardon, but I think we have met before.” Jack was standing a few feet away. The girl gave a little cry of alarm. Her cheeks a moment before had been flushed with a clear, healthy tint, but they turned very pale, and there was a gleam of fear in her eyes as she shrank from Merriwell. The Yale man was astonished by this show of fear, for it was too intense, he fancied, to be that of a refined and timid girl, frightened by a stranger’s address. Besides that, there was something in the rose-color natural to the rounded cheeks of the girl, something in her confident and graceful carriage, something in her easy and assured manner which seemed to indicate that she would not fear a strange man. Although she was well dressed, her clothes being of expensive material, Merriwell’s discerning eyes discovered that her style was not the style of New York, and already he had decided that she was from some other place. This girl seemed more like a native of Boston than New York. “You have no reason to fear me,” said Frank, in his most reassuring manner. “But I am sure you will recognize me if you stop to think a moment. If you assure me that you do not recognize me, I’ll leave you at once.” Gradually the color was returning to her face, which, although refined, had a sort of wild beauty about it that was suggestive of woods and hills and outdoor life. She looked at Frank in surprise, but there came a quick flash of recognition. “Why—why!” she gasped, and the sound of her voice seemed to stir echoing memories within him, “is it—are you—Frank Merriwell?” He had made no mistake; she knew him. “Yes,” he said; “but even now I cannot——” A man dashed past Jack Diamond and went straight at Frank, who did not see him. Without a word, he struck Merry a blow that caused him to stagger and nearly fall. Then he clutched the girl by the wrist, his face contorted, as he hissed: “So he is another one of them? How many are there?” She gave a cry and tried to fling him off. Diamond had leaped forward, but Frank recovered and turned before the Virginian could interfere. Merry saw the girl make a vain attempt to release herself from the grasp of the man, who was a tall, rugged, athletic-looking fellow about twenty-five years of age. Merry did not hesitate a single instant. He quickly snatched the girl from the man’s grasp, swinging her behind him, saying: “I will protect you.”