xcitement.

"Foul play, by the eternal skies!" shouted Bart Hodge, leaping forward.
Instantly someone gave him a blow that sent him reeling.

"Howld on, ye imps!" roared Barney. "Ye can't play your dirty thricks
here!"

"Keep them away!" grated Bascomb. "Keep them away, and I'll fix this
fellow now!"

Frank heard the bully's voice, but he could not see Bascomb. With a
cry of unutterable fury, Merriwell leaped for his foe, caught him,
grappled with him.

Then was seen such a mad struggle as not one of the boys present had
ever before witnessed. Merriwell seemed like a tiger that had been
stung to ungovernable rage, and Bascomb exerted every bit of skill and
strength he possessed.

Round and round they whirled, away they reeled, and then a cry of
surprise and horror suddenly broke from the crowd.

The beginning of the fight had been at a long distance from the brink
of the bluff, but, all at once, it was discovered that, in the
darkness, they had shifted about till they were close to the verge.
And, unconsciously, they were staggering swiftly to the edge.

"Stop them!" shouted Hodge. "Quick, or they will go over!"

Fred Davis leaped forward, clutched at the struggling lads, but could
not hold them. In a twinkling they tore away, and reeled on.

Others would have interfered, but it was too late. Both Hodge and
Mulloy did their best, but Bascomb and Merriwell escaped their
outstretched hands.

Then another cry of horror went up.

The fighting lads were tottering on the brink. They realized their
peril at last; but, before they could make a move to save themselves,
they went over.

"Merciful Heaven!" gasped Hodge. "That is the end of them both!"

CHAPTER XLVI.

RESULT OF THE CONTEST.

For a moment the horror-stricken witnesses stood and stared through the
darkness at the place where the foes had disappeared over the brink of
the bluff, and no one seemed capable of making a move or saying a thing
immediately after those blood-chilling words came from the lips of
Bartley Hodge.

Fred Davis was the first to recover. Down upon the ground he flung
himself, peering over the verge of the bluff, and calling:

"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 thi