The manner in which the doctor uttered the words showed that he regarded the case as hopeless, if a clot should form on Bart’s brain. He had spoken plainly so that he might be understood. “And all this came about through my negligence in letting that rascal alone!” thought Frank, reproachfully. “If I had set the officers after him when he tried to stab me in Belfast, Bart would not be there on that bed, dying, perhaps.” Frank spent a night of acute torture. He reproached himself constantly. Several of the wheelmen stayed at Northport, anxious to learn the result of the doctor’s efforts. Toward morning Bart opened his eyes and looked around in a wondering way. Frank uttered a low exclamation of thankfulness, and would have spoken, but the doctor motioned for him to be silent, whispering in his ear: “Wait. Let him speak first. Don’t shock him now.” After some time Hodge muttered thickly: “What’s the matter?” “Now you may speak to him,” said the doctor. “Is there anything I can do for you, old man?” asked Frank, gently. “Do for me?” repeated Bart, vaguely. “What’s the matter? I’m in bed.” “Yes.” “My head——” “You were hurt.” “Hurt? How?” “You were struck on the head, you know. Don’t you remember?” “I almost remember. I knew something had happened. Now—I am beginning to remember! Flynn—he meant to do you!” “And he struck you instead of me.” “That’s it! I remember seeing him just as he struck, but I didn’t have time to dodge. He must have hit me a good one. Where is he?” “Twenty men are hunting for him.” “Hope they catch him! He ought to be hanged! Got to shut him up now, Merry, or he’ll do you next.” “I think that’s right, Bart.” “I know it. Ought to have done it before. He’s a bad one. I’m tired. I want to sleep. We’ll talk it over in the morning. Can I sleep here?” “Yes, it’s all right. Sleep as much as you like.” “All right. Good-night, Merry. You’re a brick! Don’t let Flynn do you up. I’ll stand by you, Merry. Good-night. I’m fagged out.” His eyes closed wearily, and he slept. “Will he be all right in the morning, doctor?” asked Frank. “I think so,” answered the doctor; “but that was an awful blow. We can’t tell the result of it. He may never be in as good condition as he was before, but we’ll hope that he comes round all right.” Frank was wearied. He wondered where Diamond could be, but he knew well enough Jack was doing everything in his power to catch Flynn. Morning was not far away when Frank lay down upon a couch and fell asleep. He was exhausted, and he slept soundly till some time after the sun had risen. He was aroused by the owner of the cottage, who informed him that a boy had just said that he was wanted at the telephone in the hotel. Bart was sleeping. Frank took one look at him, and then hastened over to the hotel. He was shown the ’phone. As soon as he spoke, a voice asked: “That you, Merry?” It was Jack. “Yes,” answered Frank. “What do you want?” “Want you to come to Belfast in a hurry.”