be afther lettin' thim carry off th' girrul whoile
Oi'm spinding toime this way. It's a bit nervous Oi am about thrampin'
round through th' woods afther darruk since Oi shot thot divvil Dil
Noort, but it's no more he'll bother any wan at all, at all, an' soon Oi
think some of his foine friends will be in th' same box wid him."

"You shoot um Del Norte?" asked Red Ben, with a show of interest. "Him
say Irishman do it, but Ben no think it him friend."

"He said so?" cried O'Toole. "Begorra, thot's th' firrust toime Oi
ivver knew av anny wan thot had hearrud a dead mon talk!"

"You think you kill um Del Norte?" asked the Indian.

"Oi know Oi did onless a man can live wid a bullet clean through his
head," declared the Irishman.

Out of the shadows suddenly appeared a man, who exultantly cried, as he
pointed a finger at O'Toole:

"Diablo! I have you! Traitor, this is my time of vengeance!"

As O'Toole saw before him Del Norte, with a white bandage about his
head, the face of the Irishman turned ashen gray and his knees smote
together.

"Howly saints!" he groaned. "It is the dead aloive!"

A moment later, uttering a wild shriek of terror, he turned and ran
blindly toward the precipice close at hand, over which he rushed, being
unable to check himself when he reached the brink.

As the poor fellow fell he uttered another shriek, which was followed by
the silence of death.

CHAPTER VIII.

AT THE FOOT OF THE PRECIPICE.

The strange disappearance of O'Toole, who was unaccountably missing,
caused much wonderment among the searchers for Inza Burrage and her
captors.

There were at least thirty of these searchers in that vicinity, Frank
Merriwell being their leader.

Some hunters camped on the northeastern shore of Lake Placid had seen
Del Norte and his companions, having the girl a captive, land at a
certain point after leaving the island, conceal the boat and canoe
there, and then strike into the wilderness.

These hunters had aided the party of searchers led by Frank to pick up
the trail early on the morning following the kidnapping of the girl.

Merriwell's skill as a trailer had enabled him to follow the villains to
a point in the vicinity of the mountain where, at the suggestion of Red
Ben, Del Norte had sought concealment in a cave, the mouth of which was
hidden by thick shrubbery.

The craft of Red Ben in covering the trail had bothered and baffled the
pursuers for some time. They had broken u