.

"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."

"If the occasion demands," said Merriwell, "I can stay up with any of
them; but just now I feel like bottling up a little sleep, as the
expression goes."

"I hope you may enjoy your rest," said Carlos. "I hope nothing may
disturb you. Good night, senor."

"Good night," said Frank. "Good night, Arthur."

In his room Merry fell to thinking of the two boys as he undressed.

"Carlos Mendoza is Arthur's evil genius," he decided. "The influence of
the fellow on Hatch is wholly bad. What is the best course for me to
pursue? Had I better warn his father? Is there not some other way to
open Arthur's eyes? If I go to Warren Hatch, the man may become angry,
and give his son a raking down that will do more harm than good."

After getting into bed, Merry continued to meditate on the matter,
finding it was not easy to decide on a course.

He thought of many other things. The memory of his recent encounters
with Porfias del Norte haunted him. He thought of the manner in which
he had been trapped by Del Norte up in the Adirondacks, and thanked his
lucky stars that O'Toole, the Irishman, out of gratitude, had aided him
to escape from the murderous Mexican.

"Poor O'Toole!" he murmured. "When he became my friend he was faithful
unto death."

The memory of his own desperation and distress on learning that Inza
Burrage had fallen into the power of Del Norte caused him to twist and
turn on the bed. Only for O'Toole, he might have been baffled in
following Inza's captors. Through the acquaintance and friendship of
O'Toole with Red Ben, Del Norte's Indian guide, had come the rescue of
Inza.

Once more Frank seemed to be standing in the depths of the Adirondack
wilderness at the foot of the mountain, and again he seemed to hear the
shriek of terror which escaped the lips of the Irishman as he fell from
the precipice, and came crashing through the treetops to strike the
ground a short distance away. Then Merry lived over once