“What has happened?” he huskily asked. “Did I shoot Merriwell?”
“Not much,” said Frank, who was standing now. “As you see, I am all right. You can’t harm me, Defarge.”
The fellow stared at Merry a moment, then shrank back, lifting his hand.
“Those eyes!” he cried. “It’s no use. I cannot get away from them! Oh, curse those eyes!”
Then, with a shudder, he turned and walked toward the door. Frank was there in advance, opening it for him and letting him out.
Skelding made a move as if to accompany Bertrand, but Merry said, in a quiet tone:
“There is no need of it. He will go to his room and go to bed. Let him alone to-night.”
So Bertrand was permitted to depart.
“It’s wonderful!” muttered Skelding, in awe. “I understand now, Merriwell, how it is that you have such power over everybody.”
“No, you do not,” declared Frank; “for the power you have witnessed in demonstration to-night is something I seldom use. Only in desperate emergencies do I call it to my command. I hope I may never have to use it again.”