“Perhaps I should not blame you for thinking so,” he said kindly. “Please read the name on that card.” “I see it—‘Frank Merriwell.’” “Perhaps you read in the papers some time ago about Charles Conrad Merriwell, who was called the American Monte Cristo?” “Yes, yes! Why, you——” “I am his son. My father has plenty of money, and, if I can communicate with him, I believe he will loan you ten thousand dollars.” The youth gasped. “Loan—me—ten—thousand—dollars?” “Yes; at least, I shall ask him to do so, stating your case plainly. I am confident he will not refuse me. With the money you are to make square your debt, and then you must go to work to pay back to my father every dollar of it. He will demand that.” The overjoyed lad would have fallen on his knees before Frank; he tried to kiss Frank’s hands, while the tears rained from his eyes. “God bless you!” he sobbed. “I know you will save me, Frank Merriwell! And I swear to pay back every cent!” Merry lifted him to his feet. “Now, go,” he said. “Get out of this place, and keep away from all places like it. Come to me at the time set, and I’ll be waiting for you. Steer clear of those two men over there. Quit them at once, and never have anything to do with their like again.” “I will! I will! But do not fail me, Frank Merriwell! My life depends on it! My mother’s life——” “There, there! Say no more, but come to me to-morrow. Don’t doubt for an instant that I’ll meet you. I surely will. Good night.” Merry had walked across that noiseless carpet, his arm about the unfortunate youth. The two men started toward the door, as if to join the lad, but Frank gave them a look that stopped them in their tracks. At the door Frank gave the misguided lad his hand. “I know,” breathed Collins—“I know by the grip of your hand that you are true! I know you will save me! Thank God!” Then he left Dick Canfield’s to return no more. Frank turned to his companions, quietly saying: “Come, gentlemen, let’s take a look at the tiger.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER III GILDED VICE. They ascended a staircase that turned at right angles upon itself. This led to the gaming-rooms above. A fretted partition concealed it from the doorway, and until one had ascended to its crest he had no intimation of the play that was going on. The top being reached, however, there could be heard the busy clatter of the ivory ball speeding about the wheel and the rattle of ivory chips. When the gaming-room was entered Frank’s keen eyes took in the general appearance of the place, and a glance showed him that it was furnished for gambling alone. There were the roulette-tables, double-banked, with the wheel in the center. Against the walls were the tables for faro. Chairs for the players, the dealers, and the croupiers were the only furnishings on the floor.