He had to wait several hours. At length the little procession appeared,
and Frank's heart beat so loudly he could almost hear it. He stood up and
watched the men. Yes, the one he wanted to see was there. How was he to
communicate with the man?
Chance, seemingly, gave him the opportunity he desired. There was a
little disturbance at the head of the line. One of the patients insisted
on taking a different path than the one the attendant designated, and
there was a dispute. The guards at the end of the line ran toward the
head, leaving the rear men unattended.
Frank ran from behind the tree, toward the procession which had halted.
He approached the man, the sight of whom, on the previous occasion, had
caused him such wonder. This man did not look up.
"I must have a talk with you in private!"
Frank said, in a low but tense whisper. The man looked quickly at him.
His eyes seemed to see nothing.
"Who are you? What do you want of me?" he asked in dull tones. "I don't
know you. I know no one in this world."
"I must speak to you!" cried Frank, as he saw the attendants returning.
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