THE FALLS OF DEATH.
The last dangerous rapids of the river had been reached some days
later. Frank and his friends had enjoyed the drift hugely, but they
were not really sorry the strange voyage was almost at an end, for
they were anxious to get back to the blue waters of Penobscot Bay
and the _White Wings_.
The raft must be broken up to go through the rapids and over a
fall. No man had ever “ridden timber” over the falls and come out
to tell the tale. Several had been drowned there.
It was nightfall when the quickening water above the rapids was
reached, and again the raft tied up. In the morning it was to be
broken up and sent down.
Merriwell’s party, Forest, the cook and the cookee slept in the
little brush huts on the raft.
On shore a brush camp was made, and the men made merry, for the end
of the drive was near, and they were expecting to have “high old
times” in Bangor after they were paid off.
Sullivan and Pombere had sulked all the way from Mattawamkeag, and
they drew aside by themselves and took no part in the merry making
this night.
Of course there was singing; of course the old fiddle was tuned up.
But Sullivan and Pombere talked in low tones, with their heads
close together.
“Dat ees ze treek!” whispered the Canadian. “They nevare know eet
till eet be too late to save themselves.”
“But what if some of ther men find ther ropes cut?” asked the
foreman, doubtfully.
“Eef we go away zey nevare know we do eet.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“Eet is ze last chance. You say dat Merriwell nevare live to get
down de rivare. Prit’ soon eet be too late for you to keep dat
word.”
“That’s so,” acknowledged Sullivan. “I’ll do it!”
Then they both got up, and Sullivan said:
“There’s a dance over to ther corners, Mr. Forest, an’ me an’
Levi’s goin’ over.”
“You hadn’t better go,” said Fred. “We get to work at daybreak, and
you will not get any sleep. You’ll need rest.”
“Oh, we’re tough enough ter stan’ it, so we’ll go.”
“Well, you must be on hand and ready for work by three o’clock.”
“All right. We’ll be here.”
Then the two men started out, quickly disappearing in the shadows.
It was past midnight, and there was very little light, save when
the moon peered duskily through a rift in the clouds, when two dark
forms skulked back into the camp.
The men were sleeping in their blankets about the smoldering fire,
but they were tired, and none of them awoke.
The two forms slipped down the bank and boarded the raft. They
seemed to know just what to do, for they began working without a
whisper passing between them.
The wangan boat had been partly drawn up on the rear end of the
raft, where it lay with its stern in the water.
With keen knives the two men cut the ropes that held the raft to
the shore. Then they pushed it off gently and worked it out into
the current.
Not a sound came from the little huts. Evidently the sleepers were
undisturbed. Now and then the moon would shoot a white bar of light
down upon the surface of the river, and that light was enough to
show the current was running strongly.
But the two villains kept at work till the raft was moving swiftly,
and they could hear the roar of the falls in the distance. They
were endeavoring to make sure that not one on the raft should
escape alive.
“This be far enough,” whispered Pombere, at last.
“A little farder,” came back the voice of Sullivan. “We can git off
in the boat any time.”
So they made sure the raft was fast in the strong current so there
was no possibility of the intended victims awakening and getting it
back to the shore.
“There,” Sullivan finally whispered, in savage satisfaction, “now
we’ll take ter ther boat.”
They turned to the boat, but it was gone!
Just then the moon broke through an opening in the clouds, and they
saw the boat some distance away, being carried down swiftly in the
powerful current.
For a moment they were stunned. Then in a twinkling both realized
what had happened.
A cross current had caught the stern of the boat and pulled it off
the raft.
All at once the voice of Sullivan hoarsely cried:
“Turn out--turn out inside! Ther raft’s adrift, an’ we’re bein’
carried over ther falls!”
He knew the only chance was to arouse the sleepers and try to work
the raft in toward shore without a moment’s delay.
But the only answer he received was the sullen roaring of the
falls, sounding like the knell of doom.
Again he shouted; again there was no answer. Then Pombere ran into
one hut after another and tore at the blankets. Not one of the huts
contained a living being.
“Where are they?” yelled Sullivan.
“Gone!” answered Pombere.
Then a wild cry of despair broke from the lips of the foreman,
a cry that was heard far away on the shore by the ones who had
escaped death by a piece of rare fortune.
The foreman began to strip off his clothing and his boots. Pombere
saw what he was doing. The Canadian could not swim a stroke.
“You to go an’ leave me now?” he screamed.
“Yes,” snarled Sullivan. “Look out fer yerself now! You got me
inter this! It was your plot!”
“You nevare go!”
With that the Canadian leaped upon Sullivan, who rose and grappled
with him. The foreman thought to handle his partner in the
attempted crime with ease, but Pombere was like a maniac, and
Sullivan had not counted on such furious strength.
Round and round they whirled, swaying, bending, panting, the moon
came out again and shone upon the raft, where that frightful
struggle was taking place.
“You--nevare--go!” panted the Canadian.
“Let go!” snarled the other.
“Nevare!”
“Then I will----”
The threat was not completed, for, without knowing it, they had
reached the edge of the raft, and over they went into the water
with a splash, the cry Pombere uttered being choked in a gurgling
sound that ended almost before it began.
The river carried the raft on over the falls, where it was smashed
into thousands of pieces. And neither Mike Sullivan nor Levi
Pombere were ever seen or heard of again.
* * * * *
In the morning the men searched for the bodies below the falls, but
their search was unrewarded.
“Hans,” said Frank Merriwell, earnestly, “you did one bright thing
this trip, even though you did try to roast dynamite. You caught
enough of the conversation of those two villains to suspect that
they were up to deviltry, and your warning saved our lives. Had we
slept on the raft, not one of us could have escaped.”
“Vale,” said Hans, proudly, throwing out his chest and strutting,
“I alvays knowed you had a great head on me. A lots more vos dot
head in than I know apout.”
“Why don’t you use insect powder?” suggested Browning.
“Oh, vot vos der madder mitt you!” exploded the Dutch boy,
fiercely. “You don’d ask any fafors uf me, do I? Vale, vy don’d I
shut up!”
“You’re touchy.”
“Gentlemen,” said Fred Forest, “I believe we all have much to be
thankful for, as we are still living. Mike Sullivan was a bad man,
and he has gone to his just deserts.”
“And there is a pleasant side to the taking off of Mr. Sullivan,”
said Diamond, with undisguised satisfaction. “I believe it was the
hand of Heaven that reached out and cut his wicked life short by
bringing him to the doom he had planned for others.”
“I know whom you are thinking about, Jack,” smiled Frank.
“I am thinking of the little girl up at Mattawamkeag,” confessed
the Virginian. “She need fear Sullivan no more, for her father
cannot force her into a marriage with the wretch now. She is free
to marry Bill, the one she loves.”
THE END.
No. 29 of THE MERRIWELL SERIES, entitled “Frank Merriwell’s
Struggle,” tells the story of a fine summer vacation, and has
some stirring incidents that will delight all those who like to
be out in the wilds.
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We aim to keep in stock the works of such authors as Bertha Clay,
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Therefore, if your dealer cannot supply you with exactly the book
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It short, we are asking you to take what your dealer can supply,
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* * * * * *
Transcriber’s note:
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
the text and consultation of external sources.
Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text,
and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.
Pg 5: ‘Bruce Bowning, lazily’ replaced by ‘Bruce Browning, lazily’.
Pg 5: ‘to get saurkraut’ replaced by ‘to get sauerkraut’.
Pg 15: ‘frunish the best’ replaced by ‘furnish the best’.
Pg 16: ‘without higgling’ replaced by ‘without haggling’.
Pg 63: ‘The offiecr hesitated’ replaced by ‘The officer hesitated’.
Pg 73: ‘still skurrying’ replaced by ‘still scurrying’.
Pg 118: ‘her one determiantion’ replaced by ‘her one determination’.
Pg 120: ‘to her attractivenes’ replaced by ‘to her attractiveness’.
Pg 181: ‘hands on his lips’ replaced by ‘hands on his hips’.
Pg 183: ‘I shall exepct’ replaced by ‘I shall expect’.
Pg 201: ‘tune as pssible’ replaced by ‘tune as possible’.
Pg 220: ‘asked the forman’ replaced by ‘asked the foreman’.