“I knew it!” cried Bart exultantly. “I saw him speak to you in the cage! I knew something was up then.”
A sudden idea had taken possession of Defarge. He felt that he was caught in the net, and he would not go down without pulling Morgan with him. He had gradually learned to dislike Dade almost as much as he did Frank Merriwell. Of late it had been impossible for him to interest Dade in his crooked schemes and tricks, which had brought about the strong dislike he now harbored.
“But you don’t know the kind of fellow Morgan is,” declared Defarge. “Oh, those eyes of his! They have such an influence over me!”
“His uncle was a hypnotist!”
“He must have hypnotized me, for I made a pledge that I’d never lift my hand against Merriwell again, yet, when he ordered me to do so, I could not refuse.”
Bart’s heart was throbbing wildly.
“It’s just as I thought!” he declared, feeling almost friendly toward Defarge for this statement. “But there’s only one way for me to prove it against him.”
“I can’t make a charge against him—I can’t!”
“You must!”
“If he is present, it will be impossible. He’ll throw his power over me, and I’ll be helpless to tell the truth.”