resolution that told they did not mean to be driven
away till they had fulfilled their oath.

The sun went down redly in the west and tinted twilight crept over the
water. In the woods on shore darkness gathered swiftly. They stared away
toward those woods, as if watching for the appearance of their missing
friend.

All at once Jack caught hold of Hodge, hissing:

"Look there!"

"Where?"

"Down toward the point. See--back in the shadows beyond the two pines!
Can you see them there?"

"I see something."

"Two figures?"

"Yes."

"I saw them move--saw them come out of the woods. They are men, and they
are watching us!"

"That's right."

"And one of them is that snake, the little man in gray!"

"I believe it!"

"I know it! Get a rifle, Hodge!"

"What would you do?"

"Shoot him!" panted the hot-blooded Virginian. "Get a rifle! I will put
a bullet through the villain!"

Although hot-blooded and reckless himself Bart realized that Diamond
must not do anything of the kind. But he did not find it necessary to
reason with Jack, for the two men turned and disappeared into the woods.

"They're gone!" exclaimed the Virginian, regretfully.

"But they may come back again. We must keep a close watch to-night.
There is no telling what desperate deed they may attempt."

So the night was divided into watches, and each lad took his turn on
deck.

The sky became overcast, so there was little light. The black shadow of
the shore seemed potent with dangers.

Bart had his second watch on deck, and it was not far from midnight when
he was startled to hear a voice hailing from the shore:

"Ahoy, the yacht!"

"What do you want?" asked Bart, gripping a revolver and staring toward
the point from which the voice had seemed to come. "Who are you?"

"Caleb Cooler, at your service," came back the answer. "I thought I'd
tell you something that may relieve your minds somewhat. Frank Merriwell
is alive and unharmed."

Bart gasped.

"Why do you come to tell us that?" he asked.

"Because I know you are worrying about him. Don't worry. He will be with
you to-morrow."

This angered Bart so that he lifted his revolver, being tempted to send
a random shot toward the point from which the voice seemed to come, but
he changed his mind and lowered the weapon.

"So long," called the voice of the queer old man. "Turn in and sleep.
You won't be troubled."

"That is what they want us to do," thought Bart. "It is a trick. But