Zolverein's face was ghastly gray, while his eyes were wide open and staring at the ceiling. It almost seemed that already he had solved the mystery. But Merriwell's voice reached the man's ears, and, with a great effort, he turned his head slightly, looking toward the door. "Yes, you are in time," he said, and his voice was hollow and faint with a ghostly sound. "In time to see the end." "He's dying!" Merry did not utter the words aloud. Quickly, with light steps, he approached the bed. "Young man," said that weary voice, "bend down--sit beside me." Merry took the chair at the bedside, the doctor stepping back, but remaining near and watching the sinking man intently. The pallor on Zolverein's face became even more marked, as if his few words had cost him too great an effort. His eyes left Merriwell and found the doctor. "Brandy!" he whispered, pleadingly. "Something to give me a few minutes more of life!" The doctor hastily mixed something in a glass and held it to the dying man's lips. The small quantity Zolverein was able to swallow seemed to bring a bit of brightness to his dimming eyes. "There," he whispered, "that will do it." The doctor straightened up, but not till he had breathed in Frank's ear: "If there is anything you wish to hear from him, make haste. He has not many seconds more." "Young man," said the dying magician, "you did me a turn to-day--you saved me from being mangled beneath the train. It would have made but a few hours' difference, but I prefer to die here in bed. You grabbed me and held me up at the risk of being drawn down yourself. It--was--a--brave--act." He stopped, gasping painfully. "If you have anything in particular to say, do not talk of other things now," warned the doctor. "All right," murmured the magician. "I understand what you mean. The end is near. I'm ready to go." Again he looked at Frank. "I like you," he declared. "I took a liking to you on the train. That's why I send for you. I have not a relative in the whole world that I care for. I have some friends, but they are far away. You are here. You befriended me--a stranger. My apparatus for performing my feats of magic is worth several thousand dollars. Here and now I express my desire that you shall have it when I am dead. If you sell it for what it is worth, it will--bring you in--a tidy--sum--of----" His voice died in a gasping rattle, his breast heaved once and was still, his eyes were set, and the end had come. Zolverein, the magician, had solved the great mystery. CHAPTER II. FRANK'S OPPORTUNITY. It was Frank who carried the report of the magician's death to Thaddeus Burnham. The manager looked disgusted. "Why couldn't the fellow have waited till to-morrow!" he exclaimed. "Got the best house of the year. People will be terribly disappointed. It's so much cold cash out of my pocket." "Death is something that cannot be postponed," said Frank. "When a man's time comes, he has to go."