“What does it mean?” he breathed. “It must mean that Frank’s enemies have done this. What good could it do them to hurt me?”
His only satisfaction lay in the fact that his dear fiddle was still in his possession.
After a time he felt for the door and found it; but, as he expected, it remained immovable beneath his touch. There seemed to be no window to the room.
“I can’t get away!” he sobbed. “I will never get away any more unless Frank finds me. He found me once and saved me. He can’t find me now!”
Until he met Frank Merriwell, Abe had never heard the name of God save as an oath. He had known absolutely nothing of religion.
Frank himself, a firm believer in all things good, had found time to teach the lad, and now little Abe knelt in that dark room and prayed. It was a simple prayer, but who can say it was not heard by the One to whom it was addressed?
“Dear God,” he sobbed, “I am alone, a poor little hunchback boy. I never hurt nobody in my life. I wouldn’t hurt nobody if I could. Dear God, Frank says you know everything, see everything, and are good and kind to every one. I know what Frank says is true, for he couldn’t say anything that is not true. Please, God, don’t let the bad men take me away from Frank. If they do I shall die! Frank is the only one in the whole world who has ever been kind to me. I love him, dear God, and so won’t you please, please let him find me again! Amen!”
Even as he uttered the final word there came a sound at the door. He leaped to his feet, shaking with excitement, his heart filled with the belief that somehow his prayer had been answered thus quickly.
The door opened. Abe fell back with a little gasp of disappointment, for into the room stepped a masked man who carried a lighted lamp in his hand. This man closed the door behind him and stood with his back against it, the lamp held high, while he stared through the twin holes of the mask at the cowering hunchback.
There were some moments of silence. The man with the lamp was first to speak.