s the money. Don't be foolish--take it!
You will never receive another such offer."

He had pulled out some bills, from which he quickly selected a
fifty-dollar bank-note, which he tendered to Frank.

The boy drew away.

"You are wasting your time in offering me money for the ring. I am in
earnest in declining to sell it. Good-day, sir."

He turned and walked swiftly away.

The baffled man in black stood staring after the lad, his forehead
lowering and his white teeth showing a bit through his dark mustache.

"Refuse to sell the ring!" he grated, madly. "All right! I am not
defeated. I will have it within a week!"

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE MYSTERY OF THE RING

Frank did not glance back till he turned onto another street, and then
he saw the man in black standing quite still where they had parted.
The reddish glow of the sunset was behind the man, on which his black
figure stood out like a silhouette, the cloak and cape making him
slightly resemble a gigantic bat.

The boy shivered a little as he passed beyond the view of the
mysterious stranger.

"That man makes my blood cold," he murmured. "There is something
decidedly awe-inspiring about him. Somehow, I do not believe I have
seen the last of him."

Frank was right; he had not seen the last of the man in black.

Thinking of what had happened, Frank soon came to the conclusion that
the man was mad, or else there was some mystery about the ring that was
not known to the possessor.

Why had the stranger been so desirous of knowing how the ring came into
Frank's possession?

True he had said that he always wished to know the history of such
rings as he collected; but Frank had refused distinctly to sell the
ring, and still the man had seemed very desirous of obtaining
information concerning it.

Why had he asked the name of Frank's father?

These questions presented themselves to the boy for consideration, and
he remembered how, on hearing the name, the stranger had confessed that
it was unfamiliar to him.

Frank was thinking deeply of these things, when a familiar voice called:

"Hello, Frank! Are you going past without speaking?"

He started and looked up, finding himself in front of Inza's home. It
was a fine, old-fashioned house, built years and years ago, and an iron
fence surrounded the front lawn. Inza was at the gate, a pretty pout
on her face.

The young cadet instantly lifted his cap, as he smilingly retorted:

"I did not