By this time it was pretty late, and he decided to retire and get some sleep.
He was filled with wonder because he had not been molested in Dundee, but decided that Riddle had resolved to come on himself and see to the matter.
Fully convinced that there would be more trouble for him in the morning, he went to his room.
As he was preparing to go to bed, he thought of Cassie and his last talk with her.
“Poor girl!” thought Frank. “I wonder if she really prayed to-night and tried to go through her part without the stimulation of morphine. It is too bad that the accursed drug should get such a hold on such a girl. She said she would pray for me.”
He was about to jump into bed when another thought came to him.
“I said I would pray for her!”
Down beside the bed Frank Merriwell knelt. He bowed his head, and his lips moved in a whispered prayer.
Who can say that prayer was not heard—and answered?
For all of the exciting adventures of the day, Frank was soon sleeping soundly.