Then he heard a laugh that caused him to turn and look toward the grand stand, brushing his hand across his eyes. There in the stand sat Hank Dowling and Charley Bates. The dark-faced gambler was laughing and looking straight at Merry.
In that moment a feeling of suspicion assailed him. Somehow it seemed that the grinning rascal in the stand was responsible for the feeling of giddiness that had attacked Merry.
“Foolish!” muttered Frank. “It can’t be.”
Yet at that moment Dowling was saying to Bates:
“Look at him! He staggered a bit when he got up. The stuff is getting in its work.”
“You’re a dandy!” exclaimed the opium fiend admiringly. “But I don’t understand how you got the stuff into him.”
“Know Pete, the cross-eyed waiter, down at the hotel where those chaps are stopping?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I got Pete out of a bad scrape last winter when he was arrested for cutting a man.”