“But——”
“There are no buts about it. Just get out of your clothes and turn in.”
The Virginian made no further protest, and thirty minutes later he was sleeping heavily in Frank’s bed.
Merry came over to the bed, and stood there looking down at Jack.
“Poor boy!” he murmured. “It was great luck that I ran on you just when I did, for you were already well entangled in the snare. I must save you and put you on the right road again.”
Then he quietly left the room and descended to send a telegram to his father, addressing it to Charleston, South Carolina, and asking for ten thousand dollars.
For the first time in his life Merry had brought himself to make such an application to his father. And now it was not for his own sake, but for the unfortunate boy, Harry Collins.
Having seen that the message was despatched without delay, Frank returned to his room and turned in for the night, having seen that Jack was still asleep.
Diamond slept late the following morning, but Merry was up early, as usual, took a cold plunge, a rub-down, and some brisk exercise before awakening Jack.
The Virginian was dejected enough when he opened his eyes to the morning light. He had a splitting headache, while his mouth was dry as a chip, and there seemed to be a coat of fur on his tongue.