Frank Merriwell's Cruise Part 43

"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 sh.o.r.e 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 carried on upon that island. He was well aware that he was taking desperate chances in trying to find out what sort of business it was, but the mystery lured him on, and the very fact that there was danger lent a fascination to the adventure.

How long he sat there thinking thus he did not know, but at last he was startled by a sound near at hand. He turned quickly and what he saw brought him to his feet with a bound.

Peering from the bushes was the most horrible face he had ever looked upon. It was twisted and contorted in a frightful manner, the lips were drawn back from long, yellow fangs, the eyes seemed to glare like coals of fire, and about these frightful features tumbled a ma.s.s of tangled hair.

"The monster!"

That thought flashed into Frank's mind. He had no doubt but he was face to face with the creature that had frightened the simple fishermen from the island.

For some moments Frank stood there, staring at that horrible face. Then a clawlike hand came out through the bushes and seemed to reach toward him, while a howl that was blood-curdling came from the creature's lips.

That sound was the same that had frightened the fishermen into running for their lives, but, instead of running, Frank made a dash for the creature, Browning's revolver grasped in his hand.

It was a most astonishing move on the part of the boy. For a moment the monster of the island remained motionless, and then that horrible face disappeared.

With a leap, Frank plunged straight into the bushes, ready to grapple with the thing.

He found nothing! It had vanished!

Swaying bushes close at hand guided him, and he scarcely paused an instant. Straight forward he rushed, ready for the encounter at any instant.

He caught a glimpse of something plunging through the bushes, and he followed fearlessly.

A moment later he came out to open ground, and ahead of him he saw a misshapen figure running with wonderful speed toward the head of the cove.

Perhaps for the first time since the creature had been seen on the island the order of things had changed and it was the pursued instead of the pursuer.

"Stop!" shouted Frank.

The monster looked back over a twisted shoulder, and snarled like a wild animal, but ran faster than ever.

"Stop, or I shall shoot!"

Frank flourished the revolver, running as hard as he could in pursuit.

The command was not obeyed.

In an attempt to frighten the creature into obeying, Frank fired two shots into the air.

Still the thing ran on.

"Well, I see I must catch him," muttered Merriwell.

He set his teeth and made wonderful speed over the uneven ground. Never in any college sprinting match had he made such speed. He was determined to overtake that hideous thing and solve the mystery of the island.

Frank soon saw he was gaining. The creature looked back and saw the same, whereupon it seemed to increase its efforts.

But, although the monster was a swift runner, it could not get away from Merriwell. The cove was pa.s.sed, and the race continued up the rise toward the big building above.

Frank was drawing nearer and nearer. He reached out a hand to grasp the shoulder of the hunchback, for there was a large hump on the back of the fugitive.

At that moment the panting thing whirled and grappled with him suddenly.

Frank was taken by surprise by the movement, and in a twinkling he was flung to his knees. The monster snarled with satisfaction and sought to clutch his throat with those clawlike hands.

Summoning all his strength, Merriwell fought his way to his feet and obtained a better hold on the thing, keeping those twisted fingers away from his throat.

Then there was a fierce struggle for the mastery. During that struggle the tushes in the mouth of the being with whom Frank was battling suddenly fell out and dropped to the ground.

They were false teeth, made to look as hideous as possible.

And now Merry could see that the man's face was made up to appear twisted and deformed, and, a moment after the teeth fell out, the s.h.a.ggy wig of tangled hair was torn away, showing that also was false and a part of the make-up.

Now Merriwell recognized the man before him.

It was the hunchback of Green's Landing--Put Wiley!

"Really, Mr. Wiley, this is quite a surprise!" exclaimed Frank, triumphantly. "You had a splendid make-up, but the cat is out of the bag now."

"Curse ye!" grated the hunchback. "You'll pay for this with your life!"

"Oh, I don't know!"

"I do."

Wiley's voice did not utter these two words; they were spoken by another person, and Frank was clutched from behind. Strong hands closed about his neck, and hard fingers crushed into his windpipe, so that his breath was shut off in a moment.

Frank could not withstand this onset, he was forced to his knees. Being unable to breathe, he tried to tear those crushing fingers away, but the effort was in vain. He had dropped the revolver, and it was beyond his reach.