frank merriwell rose from the edge of the precipice and turned away. he stopped in astonishment, uttering an exclamation, for not fifteen feet away stood inza burrage, her face ghastly white in the moonlight and her eyes regarding him with an expression of horror.
“inza!” he exclaimed.
she shrank from him.
“i saw you do it!” she panted.
“you saw?”
“yes.”
“saw what?”
“i saw it all! i saw you hurl him over the precipice!”
“but i didn’t hurl him over, inza.”
“i saw it!” she palpitated. “oh, frank, what made you do it?”
“inza, i tell you i did not! he attempted to hurl me over. he led me here, saying you had fallen over this very precipice. then i bent over the brink and looked downward. he sprang upon me. we had a struggle.”
“and you ended it when you pushed him to his death!”
“can’t you believe me, inza? your eyes deceived you. i didn’t push him. he tore away from me, and i saw him reeling on the very verge of the cliff. i saw he must fall, and i sprang to grasp him. i was too late, for almost as soon as my fingers touched him he fell.”
she was silent now, looking intently at frank.
“it must be true,” she muttered; “but it seemed to me that you gave him a push. frank, i know you never speak anything but the truth. even had you pushed him over i would have kept your secret.”
“i haven’t a doubt of it, inza,” he said. “but i have hardly descended to such measures in disposing of an enemy. i regret exceedingly that this thing happened, for it spoils the trip up the mountain. we must go down without delay and search for del norte’s body. let’s return to the hotel.”
she was trembling as she took his arm.
“i suppose that mexican attacked me in order to get me out of the way, which would enable him to carry out his schemes in mexico,” said merry.
“there was another reason,” confessed inza.
“another reason?”
“yes.”
“what was it?”
she hesitated.
“i will tell you the truth, frank,” she finally said. “it’s best that you should know. i didn’t tell you before because i didn’t wish you to have trouble with del norte while we were guests of mr. crossgrove on the sachem. it was my intention to let you know everything the moment we left the yacht. del norte has twice tried to make love to me. last night on board the yacht he kissed my hand. perhaps i was foolish to give him the opportunity, but he interested me with his story, and he seized the occasion to kiss my hand before i fancied he would attempt such a thing. to-night, on the hotel veranda, he made an effort to resume his love-making, but i gave him a warning which silenced him. had he offered to annoy me again, even though it must have caused trouble between you, i should have told you everything. he swore to me that he would some day get the best of you, frank, and make me love him.”
“and this is what it has come to,” muttered merry. “well, the treacherous dog brought it on himself.”
when they reached the veranda and told what had happened there was consternation in the party. merry did not tell the entire truth. he concealed the fact that a struggle had taken place on the brink of the precipice.
without delay henry crossgrove ordered the team hitched up, and in a short time the party left the hotel, the men descending on foot.
frank led them all, with hodge close beside him. as they hastened down the road, merry told bart in low tones exactly what had taken place.
“i knew it!” said hodge. “i knew the kind of thing he was! are you going to lead the searching party, frank?”
“yes. i think it best to notify the authorities and secure lanterns. without the aid of lanterns we will be handicapped in our search down there amid the dark woods near the foot of the mountain.”
they had reached the outskirts of the village when a carriage approached at a rapid pace. to their surprise they were hailed by the voice of dick merriwell.
“hello, dick!” exclaimed frank. “is that you?”
an instant later dick and brad sprang out.
“we were just making for the top of the mountain,” explained young merriwell. “we have something on board the sachem that will interest you.”
“what is it?” questioned frank.
“a slick rascal who broke into our stateroom, opened your strong box, and attempted to get away with one of the papers.”
“who was it?” cried merry.
“porfias del norte.”
“dick, you’re dreaming!” almost shouted frank, as he caught his brother by the shoulder. “porfias del norte lies dead up there on the mountainside. he fell over a precipice.”
“porfias del norte lies tied hand and foot in the saloon of the sachem,” said dick. “you can thank my friend buckhart for it, too. i caught del norte as he was trying to get away with the paper, and we had a little racket in the saloon. i downed him once, but he squirmed away from me. the second time, as he was falling, he caught hold of the table, which threw me to one side, and my head struck against a chair. i was stunned, and del norte proceeded to choke me, with the intention of finishing me. just then brad sailed in and landed on del norte’s shoulders with one spring. we handled him all right, and left him tied hand and foot, with one of the sailors keeping watch at the head of the companionway.”
“this is wonderful! this is astounding!” gasped henry crossgrove. “i didn’t think it of the man.”
“it is astounding,” nodded merry. “it’s astounding that he should escape death after falling over that precipice.”
“he was some tattered and battered,” put in buckhart. “his clothes were ripped and his face and hands scratched and cut.”
“he must have landed fairly in a treetop and escaped in that manner,” said frank. “boys, you have done well. let’s hurry to the sachem and take a look at our captive.”
no time was lost in getting off to the yacht. they found the sailor apparently still on guard at the head of the companionway. he was sitting in a bowed position, and when they approached him he was seen to be fast asleep.
henry crossgrove was exasperated.
“this chap shall receive his walking papers as soon as i can speak to the captain,” he declared.
dick led the way into the saloon, with the others close behind him. when he opened the door and looked in a cry of astonishment and dismay escaped his lips.
on the floor lay the cords with which del norte had been bound. in some manner the slippery mexican had released himself, and he had lost not a moment in sneaking up the companionway and past the sleeping guard. he was gone, having in some manner escaped unobserved from the yacht. it was supposed he had dropped overboard and swum to another yacht near by, where he secured a rowboat and put ashore. the boat was found drifting the following morning.
“too bad he got away,” muttered bart hodge. “perhaps he has learned his lesson and will not bother the merriwells in future.”
“on the contrary,” said frank, “i think i shall see more of porfias del norte before much time has elapsed. i fancy the struggle between that man and myself has just begun.”
