Frank Merriwell's Son Part 3

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"Yes, I've noticed," was the answer. "There are several queer things about her. Her skin is strangely dark, almost as if stained, and I know she makes up her eyebrows. Sometimes I've noted that her French, when she speaks in her own language, is anything but correct, yet she seems a girl of some education. Her intonation is occasionally a trifle different from that of most French people I've met."

"But she's very faithful."

"Yes, she is very faithful and very kind with the baby. But I believe Lizette has a secret."

"A secret?"

"Yes."

"Why do you think that?"

"Occasionally she looks at me in the most peculiar manner. I've caught her looking that way several times. Once I discovered her glaring at Frank's back in a way that was almost savage."

"How singular! What do you suppose it means?"

"Oh, I don't know, unless it may be that she envies Frank and me. It may be that some time she was disappointed by an unfaithful lover."

"Poor girl!" breathed Elsie. "If such is the case, I think I realize how she feels. But look, Inza, here come the boys now. They're coming over from the Hall."

The "boys" were Frank and Bart, who were approaching side by side, two splendid specimens of American manhood.

CHAPTER IV.

A MAID OF MYSTERY.

Frank and Bart waved their hands and lifted their hats. Hodge dashed up the veranda steps to join his wife, while Merry paused to bend over the baby carriage.

"Why, he's wide awake," laughed Merry, as he surveyed the baby. "He's chipper and bright as a new-minted dollar, but he isn't raising much of a racket."

"Oh, he has ze most splendid tempaire for ze baby zat I evaire see,"

said Lizette. "He no make ze cry, ze squawk, ze squeal all ze time, like some babeez. When he is hungaire he hollaire some. Zat is naturaile."

"Quite," laughed Merry. "When I'm hungry I'm inclined to put up a holler myself. Hey, hey, toddlekins, you're getting a dimple!"

He touched the baby's cheeks, and the tiny hands found and grasped his finger. A moment later that finger was in the baby's mouth.

"Hold on, you cannibal!" protested Frank, in great delight. "You're trying to eat your own father! Haven't you any heart or conscience!

Haven't you any feeling for your dad! I believe he's hungry now, Lizette. I believe he's peris.h.i.+ng! Lizette, you're starving him!"

"Oh, oh, monsieur!" cried the nurse. "I nevaire starve heem. He have all he need. You gif heem too much he git ze colic--he git ze cramp. You make heem sick. You know how to feed ze big boys to make zem strong and well, but you know not how to feed ze baby. You leave it to Lizette. She takes ze perfect care of heem."

"I fancy that's right, Lizette," said Merry, straightening up and looking at her. "You've proved that you know your business. I'll remember you well, my girl. But, say, Lizette, what makes you do your hair so queerly? What makes you hide your ears with it?"

The nurse seemed confused, and bowed her head until he could not see her face fairly.

"Oh, maybe I have ze very ugly ear, monsieur. Eef not zat, mebbe I like ze way I do ze hair. You know one time ze many girl do ze hair zis way like Cleo de Merode."

"Well, you don't need to advertise yourself, and that was one of Cleo's advertising dodges. Have you a brother?"

"A brothaire?"

"Yes."

"Why you ask it?"

"Because there's something wonderfully familiar in your appearance.

Because I've either seen you before or some one very much like you. Have you a brother?"

"I have not ze brothaire."

"Then it must be a coincidence, but somehow I seem to remember dimly a boy who looked like you. I may be mistaken."

"I have neither the brothaire nor the sistaire. I am all alone in ze world, monsieur. I have ze hard time to geet ze living once. It gif me ze great work."

"Well, don't worry about that any more, my girl. We need you right here at Merry Home."

Inza was calling to him, and Frank hastened up the steps.

"I didn't expect you'd be able to come so soon, Frank," said his wife, as he drew his chair close to hers.

"Oh, I arranged it to get off early this forenoon. Hodge has been helping me. Diamond and Browning are still hard at work keeping the boys pegging away."

"Everything is going well at the school?"

"Things couldn't go better. I don't know a boy who hasn't made great improvement, although some have done far better than others. Each day it seems that they take hold of the work with fresh enthusiasm and energy."

"You've got a great baseball bunch there, Merry," said Hodge. "I don't wonder they trimmed everything in their cla.s.s hereabouts. As a pitcher, that fellow Sparkfair is the real article."

Frank nodded.

"You're right. Sparkfair is a wonder."

"But I can't quite fathom him," confessed Hodge. "If ever I saw a deceptive young scoundrel, it's that chap. At times he's so meek and modest that he dazes me. At other times he's so flippant and forward that I want to collar him and shake him out of his clothes. I wouldn't know how to deal with him, Frank."

"In some respects it was a problem with me," confessed Merry; "but fortunately I struck on the proper course. Once I found out how to manage, it was not hard to handle Sparkfair. He raised a lot of dust when he first landed at Farnham Hall. It didn't take him long to get arrested as a highwayman, and right on top of that I had to kill a fine horse in order to keep the horse from killing Sparkfair. He's as full of queer quirks and unexpected moves as an egg is full of meat. If there's a practical joke perpetrated, I generally look for Sparkfair at the bottom of it. About nine times out of ten I find him there. Still, he's not malicious, and in a case of emergency I believe I can depend upon him to be on the right side. For instance, when the boys started a rebellion against manual labor Sparkfair refused to join them, and it was his scheme that put a prompt and ludicrous end to the rebellion."

"I think he's a splendid boy," said Inza. "I took a liking to him the first time I saw him."

"He's done a great deal in the way of helping young Joe Crowfoot along,"

said Frank.

"There's another marvel!" exclaimed Bart. "If any one except you were to tell me that your Indian boy has made such astonis.h.i.+ng progress from savagery to civilization in such a brief time, I'd disbelieve the yarn.

I've been giving him points on his work behind the bat. He grasps everything almost instantly."

Frank Merriwell's Son Part 3

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Frank Merriwell's Son Part 3 summary

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