Frank Merriwell's Cruise Part 41

Was it possible Frank had left the building without saying anything to him? He could not think so.

All at once he stood before an open door, and he dimly saw a flight of stairs leading downward into the darkness. A cold, dank smell came up from the depths below.

Browning quickly decided that there must be some sort of a cellar or bas.e.m.e.nt down there. The door was open. Frank had gone down to investigate.

But the cry that had rung through the building! What had happened below?

For a moment Bruce hesitated. Then he quickly felt in his pocket and drew forth a match safe. A moment later, with lighted match in his fingers, he was descending the stairs into the dank and moldy bas.e.m.e.nt.

At the bottom of the stairs was another door. It was open. Bruce stepped through it and stumbled over something, dropping his match, so that he was in the densest darkness.

At that moment the wild shriek rang out again so near that it seemed uttered in his very ear.

He had his revolver in his hand, and he whirled, his heart having sprung into his mouth, ready to use the weapon. In the darkness he saw nothing.

Bruce was shaking as he crouched there. He heard his teeth rattle together, and he realized that he was completely unnerved. He was tempted to leap up and bound up the stairs. Indeed, the desire to do so was almost irresistible.

He listened, thinking he might hear something like a moving person, but after that blood-chilling scream there was no other sound.

At last he put out his hand and touched the object over which he had fallen. That it was a human body he instantly realized.

The thought that Frank Merriwell lay there dead in the darkness nearly overcame him. He feared to light another match. That touch had told him that the body was not that of a person stiff and cold, as it must be had it lain there some time. It was still warm, as if with life, but still--how still!

Browning's fingers shook as he got out a match. He prayed that he might not look on the face of his dead friend. The horrible fear of what he might see completely unmanned him.

Scratch--splutter--flare!

He lighted the match, and it blazed up at once. Its light showed him the sight he had dreaded to behold. Frank Merriwell lay before him, his face ghastly pale, his eyes closed.

The match dropped from the nerveless fingers of the big Yale man and went out. A low groan escaped his lips.

Then came the thought that Merriwell might not be dead. Quickly he caught up the body, flung it over his shoulders, and then he literally leaped up the creaking stairs.

Bruce did not pause till he had carried Frank outside the building. Then he took a look at Merry's pale face, saw blood trickling down out of his hair, and rushed with him to the well near the house.

Placing Frank on the ground, the big fellow fell to bathing his head, upon which was a slight wound that cut through the scalp. It was not twenty seconds before Frank opened his eyes.

Bruce gave an exclamation of joy.

"By Heaven! I thought you were dead!" he cried.

Merriwell looked dazed for a moment, and then murmured:

"I saw it!"

"Eh? Saw what?"

"The monster!"

"What? You did?"

"Sure."

"Where? Down in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the boarding house?"

"Yes."

"What did it look like?"

"Just as described."

"Fiery face and hands?"

"Yes."

"Black holes for eyes?"

"Yes."

Browning gasped.

"What did it do?"

"Shrieked."

"I heard it!"

"And then it seemed that the whole building fell on me. There was a bright glare of light, and the next I knew was when I opened my eyes just now."

"Something struck you down."

"I think you are right."

"Know I am. I found you down there in the bas.e.m.e.nt--brought you out. Oh, but I did think you were dead when I first saw your white face by the light of the match I held! I haven't recovered from the shock of it yet!

It was awful!"

In a few moments Frank was able to sit up. The cut on his head was not serious, but his head was throbbing with a shooting pain, and he was dizzy and weak.

"Well, I've seen the monster all right," he said, with a grim smile.

"There's some satisfaction in that."

"And I have heard it," put in Bruce. "I don't know that I care about seeing the thing."

"It did look something like the Old Boy himself," said Frank. "Don't wonder these fishermen are scared by it."

"Well, I suppose you are satisfied now?"

"Oh, no!"