Although Carlos was smoking, on a little ash receiver beneath the table near which Hatch had been sitting lay a freshly lighted cigarette, from which a vapory bit of blue smoke was rising.
Arthur had been smoking and drinking with Carlos.
The young Mexican had wished Frank to see that his power over the boy was strong enough to make him break his pledge.
Having decided on this, Frank felt like seizing Mendoza and giving him a thorough shaking up. Inwardly he was angry with the fellow, but outwardly he was undisturbed.
Carlos took special delight in trying to induce his host to talk, apparently hoping Hatch would make some sort of a break.
Frank knew it would do no good to talk to Arthur Hatch then. Instead, it would almost surely anger and shame him to such an extent that he would become resentful, announce himself as his own master, and declare his perfect ability to look out for himself, without the advice or assistance of any one.
"The smoke is somewhat too thick for me here, boys," said Merry. "I think I'll turn in."
"Sorry you can't sit up with us a while longer," said Arthur, but he could not hide his relief and satisfaction.
He was glad Frank was going, and Merry knew it.
"As in other things," smiled Carlos, "you seem to have some old-fashioned ways about sleeping. I don't believe any man half lives who sleeps too much at night. Ah! New York and upper Broadway is the place! There something is doing nearly all the night."