Part 27 (1/2)
When the procession pa.s.sed along the streets the queen was recognized everywhere, and the throngs cheered her loudly.
But, out of the thousands, hundreds were heard to say:
”Where is the strange youth who saved her from the mad steer? He should be on the same barge.”
Frank's heart leaped as he saw the mysterious girl in the procession.
”There she is!” was his thought. ”How can I follow her? How can I trace her and find out who she is?”
As the barge came nearer, he forced his way to the very edge of the crowd that lined the street, without having decided what he would do, but hoping she would see and recognize him.
When the barge was almost opposite, he stepped out a little from the line and lifted his hat.
She saw him!
In a moment, as if she had been looking for him, she caught the crown of flowers from her head and tossed them toward him, crying:
”For the hero!”
He caught them skillfully with his right hand, his hat still in his left. And the hot blood mounted to his face as he saw her tossing kisses toward him with both hands.
”What's it mean?” asked a spectator.
”Don't know,” answered another.
But a third cried:
”I'll tell you what it means! That young fellow is the one who saved the Queen of Flowers from the mad steer! I know him, for I saw him do it, and I observed his face.”
”That explains why she flung her crown to him and called him the hero.”
”Yes, that explains it.”
”Three cheers for the hero!”
”Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”
The crowd burst into wild cheering, and there was a general struggle to get a fair view of Frank Merriwell, who had suddenly become the object of attention, the splendors of the parade being forgotten for the time.
Frank was confused and bewildered, and he sought to get away as quickly as possible, hoping to follow the Queen of Flowers. But he found his way blocked on every hand, and a hundred voices seemed to be asking:
”What's your name?”
”Where do you belong?”
”Won't you please tell us your name?”
”Haven't I seen you in New York?”
”Aren't you from Chicago?”