“I have no desire to do anything of the sort,” declared Frank.  “I am sorry for you, Harris.”

“Sorry!  Bah!  You lie!  Why do you tell me that?”

“It is the truth.  You brought this on yourself, and so——­”

“Don’t tell me that again!  You have told it enough!  If I’d never seen you, I’d not be here now.  You brought it on me, Frank Merriwell.  If I die here in this cursed hole, you’ll have something pleasant to think about!  You can laugh over it!”

“You shall not die here, Harris, if I can help it.  I’ll speak to the captain about you.”

The wretch stared at Merry, his eyes looking sunken and glittering.  Then, all at once, he crouched down there, his chains clanking, covered his face with his hands and began to cry.

No matter what Harris had done, Frank was deeply pitiful then.

“I shall go directly to the captain,” he promised, “and I’ll ask him to have you taken out of this place.  I will urge him to have it done.”

Harris said nothing.

Frank had seen enough, and he turned away.  As they were moving off, Harris began to scream and call to them, begging them not to leave him there in the darkness.

Those cries cut through and through Frank Merriwell.  He knew he was in no way responsible for the fate that had befallen the fellow, and yet he felt that he must do something for Harris.

He kept his word, going directly to the captain.

CHAPTER XII.

The finish of A thrilling game.

The captain listened to what Frank had to say, but his sternness did not seem to relax in the least, as Merry described the sufferings the prisoner was enduring.  But Frank would not be satisfied till the captain had made a promise to visit Harris himself and see that the fellow was taken out and cared for if he needed it.

Needless to say that the captain forgot to make the visit right away.

Frank did not tell his friends where he had been and what he had seen.  He did not feel like talking about it, and they noticed that he looked strangely grim and thoughtful.

Tutor Maybe tried to talk to him about studies, but Merry was in no mood for that, as his instructor soon discovered.

Despite the fact that the sea was running high, Rattleton seemed to have recovered in a great measure from his sickness, so he was able to get on deck with the others.  At noon, he even went to the table and ate lightly, drinking ginger ale with his food.

An hour after dinner Frank found a game of poker going on in the smoking-room.  Mr. Slush was in the game.  So were the Frenchman, the Englishman, and Bloodgood.

No money was in sight, but it was plain enough from the manner in which the game was played that the chips each man held had been purchased for genuine money, and the game was one for “blood.”