“I do very little at it—know very little about it,” Kadir Dhin hastily corrected.
The Duke laughed again and lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.
“Gunn told me that this uncle of yours who slew Miss Maitland’s father in France was a wonderful hypnotist. And more than once you have given little exhibitions to amuse the fellows, showing that you have that power to a certain degree.”
“I’m a mere amateur,” said Kadir Dhin.
“But you could put this over, donchuknow. I’m sure. And it would be a deathblow to Merriwell. Get him into conversation in some quiet place and so get hypnotic control of him. This should be in the evening. Then stain his face to the hue of yours, and send him sneaking into Colonel Gunn’s under instructions to try to kidnap Rose Maitland. Hypnotized, he would obey you, and he would not remember that you had ever even spoken to him about it. Colonel Gunn could be posted, tipped off to the fact, that Merriwell was to make this effort, and that it was for the purpose of damaging you, Kadir Dhin; he could be made to think that Merriwell, so disguised, was putting a fake attempt over against the girl, and intended to be seen, so that you would be accused of it.
“Suppose that Colonel Gunn caught Chip Merriwell trying to do a thing like that? What?”
“Wow!” rumbled Carson.
“He would last at Fardale just as long as a snowball in August. It could be made to appear that these other efforts against the young lady had been made by Merriwell to ruin the reputation of Kadir Dhin. Some scheme, eh?”
But Kadir Dhin did not rise to it.
“I’m only an amateur,” he said; “I couldn’t do it.”