ly."

"And the man in gray----"

"Is gone, too."

"Browning, I am afraid Merry was lured into some sort of a trap."

"So am I."

"Why should they take him in particular, and not harm any of the rest of
us?"

"Perhaps their motto is one at a time."

"No. I believe Frank was selected out of our party as the one to get out
of the way. He was determined to solve the mystery of this wretched
island, and he was the leader of our party. The ruffians fancied that
they would put an end to all trouble by getting him out of the way, for
they fancied we would run at once."

Browning grunted, and Hodge went on swiftly and fiercely:

"By the eternal skies, they made a big mistake! I'll not leave this
island till I know what has happened to Frank Merriwell, or I am dead!"

"Nor I," nodded Bruce. "I'm with you, old man."

"If he has been harmed," Bart went on, "the wretches who did the dirty
work shall suffer! I swear it!"

"I'm another."

"We will bring them to justice!"

"Or kick the bucket trying."

They shook hands on it, and they were in deadly earnest.

They decided not to return to the yacht by the path, but to go over the
island and through the woods. Thus, by chance, they followed almost
directly in Frank's footsteps.

As they drew near to the dark woods, Browning felt a tightening at his
heart--a sensation similar to that he had once before experienced as he
stood beside the lonely grave in the dark glade. He sought to throw it
off, but could not do so.

"Come," he said.

"Which way?" asked Bart.

"This way."

He seemed to feel something drawing him toward the grave in the glade,
and Bart followed without another word.

Unconsciously the big Yale man stepped softly, as if he feared to alarm
somebody or something. The moss beneath his feet gave no sound. Not even
a twig snapped. Without knowing that he did so, Hodge imitated
Browning's stealthy manner.

The wind soughed through the pines and cedars in a fitful manner. There
seemed to be strange rustlings in the air.

At the edge of the glade Bruce halted. There was the grave, with the
gray headstone. He stood there staring at it. Somehow he was possessed
by a feeling that the grave had something to do with the vanishing of
Frank Merriwell, although his reason told him that such a thing was
folly.

"What is the matter?"

Hodge almost whispered the question, for he was beginning to feel the
uncanny air that overshadowed the place.

"There i