What was it? Was it some good spirit that hovered near to protect him?
He looked all round the room, but could find nothing that served as a clew to the identity of the man who had occupied the apartment.
But the register would tell to whom the room had been let.
Having decided to go down and look the register over, Frank wondered how he was to get back into his own room, for the door was locked and bolted on the inside.
He went to the window and looked out. There was no way for him to reach his window now that the rope had been cut.
“And I should not be surprised if I am locked in this room,” thought Merry.
Investigation showed, however, that the door was unlocked, and he was able to step out into the corridor.
But there he was, shut out from his own room by lock and bolt, and dressed in nothing but a suit of pajamas.
The adventure had assumed a ludicrous aspect. Frank wondered what he could do. It was certain that they would not break into his room at that hour of the night, for the sound of bursting the bolt would disturb other sleepers.
The watchman came down the corridor. He saw Frank and came onward with haste, plainly wondering what Merry was doing there.