“Miss Dugan,” he said, “if I really and truly loved you, if I knew you were a good, true girl, I’d marry you even though your father were a red-handed pirate!” There was no doubt but he meant it. Her bosom heaved, and she gave him a look he never forgot. “I believe you,” she murmured softly. “It is just as I have ever thought of you, and that is why you have been my hero since the day we first met.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XI HUCK JONES. This sort of talk had become far too sentimental to suit Merry, and he was relieved when the waiter brought their orders. Over the oysters and soup he chatted as brightly as he could, seeking to divert her mind, but though she smiled at his bright sayings and jokes, he could see she was still thinking of other things. Giving up trying to amuse her that way, he suddenly asked: “Miss Dugan, do you mind telling me how you happened to be here in New York? I do not wish to seem inquisitive, but——” “Perhaps you hadn’t better ask,” she said. “Of course you need not tell, but it seems strange that you are so far from Maine. Are you alone in the city?” “At present—yes.” “You came here alone?” “Yes.” “When will you return to Maine?” “Never, I hope!” she almost fiercely exclaimed. “Why should I go back there? My father is dead, and I have no home now. Back there I am still known as the daughter of old Dugan, the smuggler. Here I am not known at all. I can be anything I please.” Even as she said this a look of anxiety came to her face, and she added: “That is, I might be if poor Tom Stevens had not somehow traced me here.” “Tom Stevens?” “Yes.” “Who is he?” “I fear he is a lunatic.” “Do you mean the man who attacked me on Broadway this afternoon?” “Yes.” “What is the matter with him? Who is he? and where did he come from?” “He was a schoolmaster in the town of Danforth, up in Maine.” “You knew him well?” “Yes, I met him in Danforth. He fell in love with me. I never gave him encouragement, Mr. Merriwell. That is, I never encouraged him after I found how crazy he was about me. I am afraid I smiled on him a little at first, and flirted with him, thinking I was doing no harm. But I soon found out that I had made a mistake, for he began to write to me, and his letters were full of love. I answered one of them, and told him frankly that I did not care for him, but that seemed to make him all the more determined to have me.