He heard nothing.
Then every nerve and muscle seemed to grow taut in Merriwell’s body, and, with one panther-like spring, he landed on the bed. In the twinkling of an eye he was at the head of the bed, and his fingers found the push button.
Snap!—the gas came on, with a flare.
It showed him standing straight up on the bed, his hands clinched, ready for anything that might follow.
Nothing followed.
Frank began to feel puzzled.
“Why in the name of everything peculiar doesn’t he get into gear and do something—if he’s going to do anything at all?” thought the youth on the bed.
Again a bound carried him over the footboard and out into the middle of the room, where he whirled to face the alcove, his eyes flashing round the place.
The bed covering which had been flung over his head lay in the middle of the floor, where he had cast it aside.
Nothing stirred in the room. On a chair near at hand Frank could hear his watch ticking in his pocket.