the last dangerous rapids of the river had been reached some days later. frank and his friends had enjoyed the drift hugely, but they were not really sorry the strange voyage was almost at an end, for they were anxious to get back to the blue waters of penobscot bay and the white wings.

the raft must be broken up to go through the rapids and over a fall. no man had ever “ridden timber” over the falls and come out to tell the tale. several had been drowned there.

it was nightfall when the quickening water above the rapids was reached, and again the raft tied up. in the morning it was to be broken up and sent down.

merriwell’s party, forest, the cook and the cookee slept in the little brush huts on the raft.

on shore a brush camp was made, and the men made merry, for the end of the drive was near, and they were expecting to have “high old times” in bangor after they were paid off.

sullivan and pombere had sulked all the way from mattawamkeag, and they drew aside by themselves and took no part in the merry making this night.

of course there was singing; of course the old fiddle was tuned up.

but sullivan and pombere talked in low tones, with their heads close together.

“dat ees ze treek!” whispered the canadian. “they nevare know eet till eet be too late to save themselves.”

“but what if some of ther men find ther ropes cut?” asked the foreman, doubtfully.

[221]

“eef we go away zey nevare know we do eet.”

“it’s dangerous.”

“eet is ze last chance. you say dat merriwell nevare live to get down de rivare. prit’ soon eet be too late for you to keep dat word.”

“that’s so,” acknowledged sullivan. “i’ll do it!”

then they both got up, and sullivan said:

“there’s a dance over to ther corners, mr. forest, an’ me an’ levi’s goin’ over.”

“you hadn’t better go,” said fred. “we get to work at daybreak, and you will not get any sleep. you’ll need rest.”

“oh, we’re tough enough ter stan’ it, so we’ll go.”

“well, you must be on hand and ready for work by three o’clock.”

“all right. we’ll be here.”

then the two men started out, quickly disappearing in the shadows.

it was past midnight, and there was very little light, save when the moon peered duskily through a rift in the clouds, when two dark forms skulked back into the camp.

the men were sleeping in their blankets about the smoldering fire, but they were tired, and none of them awoke.

the two forms slipped down the bank and boarded the raft. they seemed to know just what to do, for they began working without a whisper passing between them.

the wangan boat had been partly drawn up on the rear end of the raft, where it lay with its stern in the water.

with keen knives the two men cut the ropes that held the raft to the shore. then they pushed it off gently and worked it out into the current.

not a sound came from the little huts. evidently the sleepers were undisturbed. now and then the moon would shoot a white bar of light down upon the surface[222] of the river, and that light was enough to show the current was running strongly.

but the two villains kept at work till the raft was moving swiftly, and they could hear the roar of the falls in the distance. they were endeavoring to make sure that not one on the raft should escape alive.

“this be far enough,” whispered pombere, at last.

“a little farder,” came back the voice of sullivan. “we can git off in the boat any time.”

so they made sure the raft was fast in the strong current so there was no possibility of the intended victims awakening and getting it back to the shore.

“there,” sullivan finally whispered, in savage satisfaction, “now we’ll take ter ther boat.”

they turned to the boat, but it was gone!

just then the moon broke through an opening in the clouds, and they saw the boat some distance away, being carried down swiftly in the powerful current.

for a moment they were stunned. then in a twinkling both realized what had happened.

a cross current had caught the stern of the boat and pulled it off the raft.

all at once the voice of sullivan hoarsely cried:

“turn out—turn out inside! ther raft’s adrift, an’ we’re bein’ carried over ther falls!”

he knew the only chance was to arouse the sleepers and try to work the raft in toward shore without a moment’s delay.

but the only answer he received was the sullen roaring of the falls, sounding like the knell of doom.

again he shouted; again there was no answer. then pombere ran into one hut after another and tore at the blankets. not one of the huts contained a living being.

“where are they?” yelled sullivan.

“gone!” answered pombere.

[223]

then a wild cry of despair broke from the lips of the foreman, a cry that was heard far away on the shore by the ones who had escaped death by a piece of rare fortune.

the foreman began to strip off his clothing and his boots. pombere saw what he was doing. the canadian could not swim a stroke.

“you to go an’ leave me now?” he screamed.

“yes,” snarled sullivan. “look out fer yerself now! you got me inter this! it was your plot!”

“you nevare go!”

with that the canadian leaped upon sullivan, who rose and grappled with him. the foreman thought to handle his partner in the attempted crime with ease, but pombere was like a maniac, and sullivan had not counted on such furious strength.

round and round they whirled, swaying, bending, panting, the moon came out again and shone upon the raft, where that frightful struggle was taking place.

“you—nevare—go!” panted the canadian.

“let go!” snarled the other.

“nevare!”

“then i will——”

the threat was not completed, for, without knowing it, they had reached the edge of the raft, and over they went into the water with a splash, the cry pombere uttered being choked in a gurgling sound that ended almost before it began.

the river carried the raft on over the falls, where it was smashed into thousands of pieces. and neither mike sullivan nor levi pombere were ever seen or heard of again.

in the morning the men searched for the bodies below the falls, but their search was unrewarded.

[224]

“hans,” said frank merriwell, earnestly, “you did one bright thing this trip, even though you did try to roast dynamite. you caught enough of the conversation of those two villains to suspect that they were up to deviltry, and your warning saved our lives. had we slept on the raft, not one of us could have escaped.”

“vale,” said hans, proudly, throwing out his chest and strutting, “i alvays knowed you had a great head on me. a lots more vos dot head in than i know apout.”

“why don’t you use insect powder?” suggested browning.

“oh, vot vos der madder mitt you!” exploded the dutch boy, fiercely. “you don’d ask any fafors uf me, do i? vale, vy don’d i shut up!”

“you’re touchy.”

“gentlemen,” said fred forest, “i believe we all have much to be thankful for, as we are still living. mike sullivan was a bad man, and he has gone to his just deserts.”

“and there is a pleasant side to the taking off of mr. sullivan,” said diamond, with undisguised satisfaction. “i believe it was the hand of heaven that reached out and cut his wicked life short by bringing him to the doom he had planned for others.”

“i know whom you are thinking about, jack,” smiled frank.

“i am thinking of the little girl up at mattawamkeag,” confessed the virginian. “she need fear sullivan no more, for her father cannot force her into a marriage with the wretch now. she is free to marry bill, the one she loves.”