"Frank—Frank Merriwell!"
Immediately there was a faint, muffled answer from near at hand.
"Thank Heaven!" Fred almost wept. "He has not fallen into the sea! He is near at hand! I can hear him! Frank, where are you?"
"Here—clinging to this vine," was the faint reply. "The thing is giving—it will tear away! Quick—grasp my wrists!"
Fred saw that the dark form was dangling immediately below, and, without delay, he reached down and found a pair of hands which were clinging madly to a stout vine.
The vine was really giving way, and Davis instantly grasped both wrists of the imperiled lad.
"I've got him, boys!" he shouted, joyously. "Pull us up—pull us up! I can hold fast if you pull us up at once! He has hold of one of my hands now; he will not let go. Pull us up, and he will be saved!"
"Lay hold here!" shouted Hodge, grasping Davis by the shoulder. "Down on your faces, two of you, and clutch Merriwell the moment he is lifted far enough for you to grasp him. Work lively, now! Are you ready?"
"All ready," came the chorus.
"Then hoist away, lads, and up he comes!"
So, with a strong pull, the imperiled youth was dragged up over the brink to safety, falling prostrate and panting at the feet of his rescuers.
"Poor Bascomb!" exclaimed one of the boys. "I am afraid he is done for!"
"Not much!" panted the boy they had just saved. "But that was a mighty close call."
"What's this?" shrieked Fred Davis, dropping to his knees and staring into the face of the fellow he had helped to rescue. "This isn't Merriwell! It's Bascomb!"
Exclamations of astonishment came from every lip, for all had thought they were rescuing Frank.
"Great Jupiter!" gasped Bart Hodge. "It must be that Merriwell went clean down the face of the bluff!"
"An' thot manes he is a dead b'y!" declared Barney Mulloy. Fred Davis quickly leaped to the brink, and wildly shouted:
"Frank Merriwell! Frank Merriwell! Where are you? Frank! Frank!"
No answer save the moaning of the wind and the gurgle of the sea which came up from the base of the bluff, like the last strangling sound from the throat of a drowning person.
"He is gone!"
A feeling of unutterable horror came over the little party on the bluff, for they all seemed to realize what a terrible thing had happened.
Fred Davis fell to sobbing and moaning. Again and again he sent his voice down the face of the bluff, shouting into the darkness that hovered over the surging sea:
"Frank Merriwell! Oh, Frank, where are you? Frank! Frank!"
A night-bird swept past, and answered his shouts with an eerie cry; but the voice of Frank Merriwell did not come up out of the darkness below.
"It's no use!" came hoarsely and hopelessly from the lips of Bart Hodge. "Merriwell is a goner! It was most remarkable that Bascomb caught hold of that vine and so escaped."
Fred Davis sprang to his feet, and rushed at Bascomb, who was cowering and shivering in the midst of the boys.
"You killed him!" screamed the little plebe. "You're responsible for his death! It was murder!"
"Thot's roight!" came from Barney Mulloy.
Bascomb cowered and retreated before Davis. All his bullying spirit was gone, and he shivered when the little fellow declared it was murder.
"You shall be hanged!" wildly cried Fred, shaking his clinched hands in Bascomb's face. "I will testify against you! You shall be arrested and hanged!"
"Take him away, somebody!" muttered Bascomb, hoarsely.
"Touch me if you dare!" defied Davis, who seemed quite beside himself. "I have been a coward long enough, and I am not afraid of you all now! If I hadn't been a coward, I should have fought here to-night, instead of Merriwell, and he would be alive now! Oh, I'll never forgive myself for letting him fight in my place! But I'll do my best to avenge—I'll swear he was murdered!"
"That's rot," said Rupert Reynolds, rather weakly. "It was a clean case of accident."
"I am not sure about that," came significantly from the lips of Bart Hodge. "We all heard Merriwell cry out that he had been blinded. That meant something. There was foul play here, and the parties who were in the dirty game must suffer for it."
"Faith, an' thot's roight, Bart, me b'y!" exclaimed Barney Mulloy. "It's as clane a lad as iver brathed thot wint over Black Bluff to his death th' noight, an' somebody will pay dear fer this pace av worruk."
Bascomb still remained silent, seeming incapable of offering any defense.
"It is useless to waste any more time here," said Hodge, sharply. "This awful business must be reported in camp. We must get boats from the boathouse, and search for Merriwell's body."
He started away, and the boys began to follow him. Bascomb stood quite still, and saw his late supporters, with the exception of Reynolds, draw away and leave him, as if he were some creature to be avoided.
"Oh, that's the way!" he grated, bitterly. "They're afraid they will be mixed in it some way, and so they sneak! I am left to face the music alone!"
"Brace up, old man," urged Reynolds. "You may not be in such a very bad box. I don't see how they can do anything but expel you from the academy, and it is likely I will have to take the same medicine, as I was your second."
"Oh, you're trying to show a bright side; but I tell you, Reynolds, there is something worse than expulsion to follow this!"
"What do you mean?"
"You heard that plebe Davis declare he would charge me with murder?"
"Sure; but he's deranged for the moment."
"He will make the charge, just the same; and I'll have to face it."
"But it cannot be proved against you."
"I am not so sure. If I hadn't flung red pepper in Merriwell's eyes I'd have a better show. Now it will look as if I did that to blind him, so I might force him over the bluff."
"I don't believe anybody can think you as bad as that. You certainly had no desire to do anything more than whip Merriwell by some means, fair or foul."
"It is easy enough to say that, but I'm afraid it will not be easy to make people believe it. I swear, Reynolds, it's a terrible thing to have anything like this hanging over a fellow! Why, it has taken all the nerve out of me! I'd give my right hand to see Frank Merriwell alive and well at this moment!"
"Don't go to pieces that way, Bascomb!" entreated Rupert. "You've got to keep a stiff backbone. Come, let's hurry after the others."
Reynolds got hold of Bascomb's arm, and fairly dragged him after the other lads, who were making their way toward camp.
Each step that brought the big fellow nearer camp made him more desperate. Finally, he declared:
"I'm going to know what Hodge and Mulloy mean to do."
Then he hastened forward till he came upon Bart and Barney, who were accompanied by Fred Davis.
"Look here, fellows," said Bascomb, "I've got some questions to ask you."
"Well, ask them," directed Hodge, shortly, as the boys halted and clustered again.
"I want to know if you actually think I am wicked enough to wish to kill a fellow cadet and classmate?"
"As fer mesilif, Oi dunno," admitted Barney. "Yure a big scoundrel, but Oi don't loike ter think any felly's villain enough to do murther."
"But it looks mighty black for