CHAPTER XXIV
FRANK LOSES HOPE
Once more came the attendants, running up the stairs. Frank pointed to
the room he had just left. His face was pale and drawn.
"You're not used to it yet," said the big guard, who had spoken to him
before, as he passed the boy. "You'll not mind it in a week."
Then he, and the others, entered the apartment whence the frightened
cries were still coming. Frank could not bear to stay where he could hear
them. He went to the corridor below. In a little while the attendants
came down.
"He didn't have it bad this time," the big guard said to Frank. "It was a
mild attack. He always imagines he's an explorer in a savage country, and
that the cannibals are going to kill him. Not very pleasant, but it's
nothing to what some of 'em think. You're having quite a night of it. But
never mind, I guess they'll quiet down now."
Frank was beginning to lose hope. All his plans seemed likely to come
to naught. He was so sure the man in room twenty-eight was sane, yet,
soon after conversing with him, during which time the man had talked
as rationally as could be desired, he had suddenly turned into a
raving maniac.
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