"
Cautiously he tapped on the portal. There was no answer. He waited, and
knocked again. Then, through the keyhole, a cautious voice asked:
"Who is there?"
"It is the boy who spoke to you in the summer house," was Frank's reply.
"Let me in."
The door was slowly opened and Frank entered the dark apartment. It was
not without a little feeling of apprehension that he went in. He was
alone in the room with a lunatic; a patient who became violent at times,
the attendant had said. Suppose one of those fits should come on when
Frank was with him? The boy did not like to think of this.
"What do you want?" the man in room twenty-eight asked, before he
closed the door.
"I want to help you to escape."
"Hush! Don't let any of them hear you!" And the man, putting his hand
over Frank's mouth, pulled him further inside and closed the door. Then
they talked in whispers.
It was an hour later when Frank came out. There was a look of hope on his
face as the gleam from an incandescent lamp, far down the corridor,
illuminated his countenance.
"I'm sure I can manage it," he whispered to the man.
Pages:
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170