wo or three ordinary
fellows without a gun."

Fully aware of the giant's extraordinary strength, Frank knew he spoke
the truth, and so he accepted the revolver.

"Now I have an idea," said Merriwell, "that you had better not return to
the yacht by the path."

"Why not?"

"It is likely that path is watched, and it may be well enough not to let
the watchers know one of us has remained here. If they think we are
gone, they may betray themselves by their movements.

"How am I to go back, then?"

"Go round the island the other way. You can keep in this fringe of woods
the most of the time, so that you will not be seen. It may be a bit
harder traveling, but I fancy it is the best thing to do."

"All right. Take care of yourself, Merriwell. Keep your eyes open, and
do not get another crack on the head."

"Don't worry about that. Take your time."

So Bruce started off, leaving Frank there where he could watch the boat.

Not until Browning had disappeared and Frank was quite alone did he
realize the loneliness of the place. The water washing against the rocky
shore made the only sound to be heard, unless it was the occasional cry
of a wheeling gull.

The tide was going out, and already the black ledges were rising out of
the water in the distance. Those were called "half-tide ledges" by the
fishermen. There were other black rocks which rose barren and bleak
above the highest tides. Near those ledges at certain seasons of the
year sportsmen set their "tollers," or decoys, and crouching in nooks of
the rocks, fired hundreds of shots at the sea birds lured to their doom
by the wooden representations of their mates.

Merriwell found a place where he could sit in a sheltered spot and watch
the sailboat, at the same time having a good view of the bay and the
islands and ledges.

As he sat there Frank meditated on the mystery of the island. He was
fully convinced that there was some reason why certain human beings
desired to frighten all others away from the place. That the man from
Boston had been murdered and buried on that island was quite probable.
Perhaps he had been murdered for booty; perhaps he had discovered the
secret of the island, and his death had been accomplished in order to
seal his lips. In the latter case there must be some powerful reason
why the desperadoes who slew him did not wish the secret revealed to
the world.

These thoughts led Merry to the conclusion that some criminal business
was carrie