und you down there in the basement--brought you out. Oh,
but I did think you were dead when I first saw your white face by the
light of the match I held! I haven't recovered from the shock of it yet!
It was awful!"

In a few moments Frank was able to sit up. The cut on his head was not
serious, but his head was throbbing with a shooting pain, and he was
dizzy and weak.

"Well, I've seen the monster all right," he said, with a grim smile.
"There's some satisfaction in that."

"And I have heard it," put in Bruce. "I don't know that I care about
seeing the thing."

"It did look something like the Old Boy himself," said Frank. "Don't
wonder these fishermen are scared by it."

"Well, I suppose you are satisfied now?"

"Oh, no!"

"No? What will you do?"

"Oh, I'd like to know what the monster is made of."

"This investigating seems to be rather dangerous."

"And that makes it all the more fascinating. However, I think it will
be well enough to give it a rest for the present."

"We'll go back to the yacht?"

"Yes, and have some dinner. After dinner we can take another whirl at
the monster. We must not stay away too long this time, or the people on
the yacht will worry about us."

"What shall we tell them?"

"Nothing. It will not do to tell of this adventure."

"But this handkerchief about your head," said Bruce, who was tying it in
place; "how will you explain that?"

"Fell and struck my head. I did fall, you know, and my head must have
struck the ground down there in that basement. We mustn't let them press
us too closely. If they get inquisitive, we must change the subject."

Thus it was arranged. When Frank first arose to his feet he was so weak
that he found it necessary to lean on the arm of his companion, but his
strength came to him swiftly, so that he was like himself before he had
returned more than a third of the way to the _White Wings_.

Then of a sudden he remembered that he had dropped his rifle when he was
struck down in the basement, and he wanted to return for it at once.
Bruce objected at first, but Frank was determined, and he finally won.

They retraced their steps and boldly entered the building. Bruce
followed Merriwell down the stairs into the basement, holding his
revolver ready for use while Frank lighted matches. Then they searched
for the rifle, which Frank knew he held in his hand at the moment when
he was struck down.

They could not find it, for it was not in the basement