Frank Merriwell's Bravery

by Standish, Burt L

  Frank's horse proved far more skillful in climbing, keeping close to Big Gabe's heels, and the others were left at a considerable distance, so it became necessary to pause once or twice for them to come up.

  A nearly level bit of the mountain had been reached, and they were pausing before the next climb, when a rumbling jar was heard, and a cry of warning broke from the guide.

  "Loose bowlder! Look out fer it, boy!"

  The others were yet some distance away, so that Frank and Gabe were together, the boy being astride his heavily breathing horse.

  With each moment the roaring grew louder, till it swelled to jarring thunder, and then past them shot a huge black mass, enveloped in a cloud of dust. This mass leaped down into the black depths of a great chasm that yawned close at hand.

  Frank's horse was frightened and began to plunge. The boy tried to quiet the animal, which was no easy task. In its mad plunging the creature reached the edge of the chasm. Big Gabe leaped forward with a second shout of warning, but it came too late.

  Horse and rider went over the brink!

  * * *

  CHAPTER XLIII.

  A FRIGHTFUL PERIL.

  Not a sound came from the lips of our hero as his horse went plunging into the chasm, although, in the moment when he went over the brink, the boy fully expected to be dashed to death in the dark depths below.

  He saw Big Gabe leap to clutch him, but realized that the giant was too late.

  In that fateful moment Frank cleared his feet from the stirrups and made a desperate effort to save himself.

  Too late!

  All he could do was to clutch at the high pommel of the Mexican saddle, to which he clung tenaciously.

  A wild, half human scream of terror came from the throat of the horse.

  "Whoa up, thar!" roared the giant, as he made a clutch at the horse.

  By rare good fortune the man clutched the flowing tail of the animal fairly and firmly. His heels settled into a rift of the rocks, and he surged backward.

  Over went the horse, dangling, head downward, above the terrible chasm, while the giant held it thus by clinging to the creature's tail!

  And our hero held fast to the Mexican saddle!

  Frank was amazed when he found the horse was not going downward, and, being unable to see the big man, he wondered what held the animal suspended in the air.

  In a moment the man above cried:

  "Are you gone, boy? Are yer done fer, youngster?"

  "No," replied Frank, with sudden hope. "I am hanging to the saddle. Drop a rope to me, and pull me up—quick, before the horse falls!"

  "Can't do it."

  "Why not?"

  "I'm holdin' ther critter by ther tail, an', burn me, ef yer both won't go to ther bottom ef I leggo!"

  Then the boy realized what had saved him, impossible as it seemed, and he marveled at the astonishing strength of the strange giant who had been sent to Lake Tahoe to die of consumption.

  "But he can't hold out long!" thought the lad. "He must give up in a moment, and then we'll go down to death!"

  It was not a pleasant thought, and still Frank was not terrified. He wondered at his own coolness. He speculated on the length of time they would be falling. Would he be conscious when they struck, or would the fall rob him of his senses?

  He looked down. Far below, ragged points of rocks jutted out from the chasm wall, seeming to beckon to him. They would bruise and tear him, and it seemed that they were awaiting, with impatience, for him to fall.

  He could not see the bottom of the chasm!

  "It is sure death!"

  Without knowing that he did so, he uttered the words aloud.

  "Not ef I kin hold on a little longer, boy."

  The giant had heard him and made reply, much to his surprise, for he had seemed to forget that Blake was holding him from falling.

  Then he marveled more than ever at the strength of the man, for it began to seem that he had been suspended thus many hours. Surely Gabriel Blake possessed supernatural prowess.

  Something like a laugh came from the boy's lips.

  "It is foolish to try to hold on longer," he said, a bit wildly. "Let go, before you, too, are dragged over to death."

  "Hyar, hyar!" called the man from above. "Don't git nutty, boy! I kin hold yer some time yit."

  Still Frank was sure it was all folly; it could only end in one way.

  "I must fall at last!"

  The giant heard these hoarsely muttered words, and he feared the boy would let go.

  And now Bart Hodge and the two men had become aware of Frank's peril, and they were spurring their horses madly forward, having reached the top of the climb.

  The giant saw them coming, and it gave him new strength.

  "Hold fast, down thar, youngster!" Big Gabe shouted to Frank. "Thar's help comin' hot-foot an' hustlin'. We'll hev yer out uv thar in two shakes, brand me deep ef we don't!"

  Still, Frank did not dare to hope. Once or twice it seemed that the horse, wild-eyed and snorting with terror, slipped a bit, and the boy fancied Gabe was losing his grip.

  It was a fearful strain on the giant, but he held fast as if his own life depended on it. The cords stood out on his neck and forehead, and perspiration rolled down his face. He could hear his own heart thumping like a hammer in his breast.

  The sheriff, Sile Jones and Bart Hodge came tearing up to the spot, flung their horses back with a surge at the bit, and leaped to the ground.

  In a moment Jones had leaped to the side of Big Gabe and obtained a hold on the tail of the horse, relieving the giant a bit.

  A lariat dangled from the sheriff's saddle, and this he had freed before he brought his horse to a halt. With it in his hand, he sprang to the ground and leaped toward the brink of the chasm, on which Bart was already kneeling.

  "Hang on, old boy!" breathed the dark-haired lad. "The horse will not fall now. You are all right. We will have you out of that in a moment."

  Frank looked up and saw Bart peering down. The sight of his friend's face gave the imperiled lad new hope.

  "It's all right, if you say so, partner," he said, coolly. "But I don't care how quick you get me out of this."

  Jack Long reached the brink of the chasm, lariat in hand.

  "Say," he cried, "whatever are you trying to do, boy? Think you can slip me this way? Not much!"

  He ended with a reassuring laugh, which was meant to encourage Frank. In a moment the rope was lowered, and the end dangled close by the boy.

  "Catch hold!" cried the sheriff.

  Frank did so, first getting a firm hold with one hand, and then with the other. By the time he had hold of the lariat Bart was ready to pull with Long.

  "All right!" shouted Frank. "Lift away, up there."

  They did so, carefully lifting him over the edge of the ledge, so his hold would not be broken, and he was drawn safely to the solid ground.

  Some boys would have been completely overcome and unmanned by such a close call, but such was not the case with Frank. The moment all peril was past for him, he exclaimed:

  "Save the horse!"

  "Don't know as we can," said the sheriff, breathing heavily. "We'll try it. If we can get the beast up without strangling it we'll be dead lucky."

  Long was skillful with the lariat, and he dropped the noose over the horse's head with a wide sweep. He did not draw it tight till the time came, and that was when every man and boy were ready to lift to the extent of their strength.

  "Heave!" shouted Big Gabe, in a stentorian tone.

  After a desperate struggle they dragged the horse up over the brink, but the unfortunate creature was more dead than alive, and nearly an hour passed before it recovered.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XLIV.

  A GIRL'S MAD LEAP.

  By nightfall they were encamped—or bivouacked—in a sheltered pocket, close by a clear bubbling spring. A fire was lighted, and, having eaten supper, they sat around and talked over the journey and adventures o
f the day.

  The men smoked. The horses fed on some tender grass near at hand. Bart said:

  "Do you know, Frank, I never touched a cigarette since you induced me to swear off at Fardale?"

  "I am glad to hear that," said Frank. "There is nothing more hurtful than cigarettes used to excess, and one who smokes them regularly is almost certain to use them to excess, after a time."

  "When you left Fardale I told you I feared I might fall back into my old ways—might become reckless and dissipated as I was before you gave me a helping hand and pulled me out. You remember it?"

  "Yes."

  "And do you remember that you said you were confident I would not go back—that you felt sure I had stamina of character enough not to take up with my old associates?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, Frank, by saying so you saved me. Whenever I have been tempted to do a mean thing, or to take up with any of the old gang, I have always thought of your words, and knowing you had faith in me has given me strength to resist."

  "I am glad of it, old fellow. For all that we were enemies to begin with at Fardale, I found you had good stuff in you, and so I stood by you when others were against you."

  "You stood by me when I was falsely accused of a theft, even though I had treated you shamefully, and it was that which made me ashamed and disgusted with myself. I saw you were white clean through, and I resolved to mend my ways if I ever pulled through the scrape I was in."

  "You kept your resolution."

  "With your aid. I did not expect you would accept me for a roommate, after what had happened, but you did. I do not believe I should have been able to remain in Fardale Academy but for that. Now——"

  "Now what?"

  "Well, it may sound like boasting, but you know I am not given to that, Frank."

  "I know. Go on."

  "Now, to a certain extent, I have taken the place you left vacant at Fardale. I was captain of the football team last fall, and we came out champions in the series we played. This year I was unanimously chosen captain of the baseball team, and we have had a most successful season thus far. The fellows who would have nothing at all to do with me originally are ready to stand by me to the last gasp now. All this came about through your influence, Frank."

  "You make me blush," laughed our hero. "Don't tell me anything more, or you will give me a case of swelled head."

  "There is no danger of that," Bart declared. "For a fellow who was so popular at school, you were and are reprehensibly modest. You had a way of holding your own, and still you never thrust yourself forward, which is something I cannot understand, for, as a rule, if a person does not push himself right ahead, he does not get there. Modesty may be all right, but, in most cases, the modest fellow gets left. Not that I believe in the braggart and blowhard, but a chap must have nerve to put himself ahead if he wants to keep in the game. I have seen lots of inferior individuals get a start on those with ability simply because they had the gall to sail right in and make their bluff. I believe there are two kinds of modesty, and one kind is closely allied to cowardice. The fellow who has confidence in himself, thinks he can do a thing, says he can do it, and does his level best to do it, is the one who will come out on top. If a chap wants an opportunity to try at anything, he makes a fool of himself if he says, 'I don't know, perhaps I can do it.' The one who says, 'I can and will' is the one people have confidence in, even though he may not be so smart as some modest coward."

  Frank whistled softly.

  "Hodge," he said, gravely, "you are a philosopher. Your philosophy may be a trifle mixed, but it will untangle itself later on. Such words from your lips rather daze me. I think I'll have to sleep and rest in order to recover."

  He ended by a light laugh, in which, however, Bart did not join.

  The dark-haired boy would have been glad to talk of the mysterious girl, but Frank rolled himself in a blanket, with his feet toward the fire and showed no desire to continue the conversation.

  Bart soon followed this example, but the men continued to smoke and talk for some time.

  Bart was awakened by feeling himself vigorously shaken, but, when he started to speak, a hand was over his mouth, and a voice whispered, in his ear:

  "Easy, old boy; don't make a racket. We want to take a little stroll by ourselves, and there might be objections."

  He knew it was Frank who spoke, although it was still dark, with just a hint of approaching dawn in the east.

  When Frank was sure Bart understood he removed his hand from the latter's mouth, and the dark-haired boy crept softly from his blanket.

  "Where are you going?" whispered Hodge, in surprise.

  "Never mind," was the answer. "Take your rifle and come along."

  The men were sleeping heavily. The horses stamped restlessly at a distance of two or three rods. The stars were fading before the gray light that slowly spread in the east.

  Bart secured his rifle. Frank had his already, and they stole out of the bivouac.

  Frank led the way, walking swiftly, and making no noise.

  Bart wondered what the boy meant to do. Surely he did not think of skipping the party, for the horses were abandoned.

  The dark-haired lad could not restrain his curiosity long, and he asked a question as soon as they were beyond earshot of the camp.

  "What do you mean to do, Frank?"

  "Take a morning stroll," was the laughing reply. "It is good for one's health. Why, it's a regular tonic."

  Bart was puzzled, for he knew Frank was not out for his health.

  "You are not skipping them?" he asked.

  "Not for long," was the reply.

  "But what will they think when they awaken and find we are gone?"

  "I have left a note."

  "Where?"

  "Pinned to Big Gabe's breast."

  "What did you say?"

  "That we would be back, and for them not to think we were running away."

  "They will think so, all the same."

  "They are likely to."

  "And I fail to see the object in this move. If they catch us before we return, Jack Long is liable to tie us up and take us back to Carson without delay."

  Frank laughed softly.

  "They will not catch us till we are ready to return. I will tell you just what this move means."

  "Fire away."

  "Last night, after we both seemed to be asleep, Big Gabe told his companions just where this hidden cabin of the counterfeiters is located. I was not asleep, although I seemed to be, and I heard every word."

  "Well?"

  "Well, we are going there."

  "For what reason?"

  "To see what we can do. I also overheard the men talking, and they seemed extremely doubtful as to our ability to do much of anything. In fact, they regarded us as an incumbrance. That touched my pride. I resolved to see if we could not convince them that they had made a mistake."

  "Are you sure you can find this hidden cabin?"

  "No; but I can try. I remember every word Gabe spoke, and I'll come pretty near it, you may bet."

  "Go ahead. I am with you."

  Bart did not question his friend further, although it seemed a foolish move to him. But he remembered that, in the past, Frank had seldom made a mistake when he set out to do anything.

  Merriwell moved at a swinging pace, and Hodge held close to his heels.

  The light in the east broadened, flushed, and rose to the zenith. The stars were blotted from the sky; but there were deep shadows far down in the ravines and gorges when the sunlight lay on the mountain peaks.

  Having left the pocket, Frank led the way along a twisting ravine. Out of this he climbed at a certain point, and they made their way over a ridge into another ravine, from which they branched into yet another. Finally, with the bare face of a great mountain rising abruptly on their left, the boys advanced slowly.

  "It cannot be far from here," said Frank, keeping his eyes about him. "We shall not be able to see the cabin from this r
avine, but we may locate the cliff on which it is built."

  "How can we locate it?"

  "Big Gabe said there was a wide streak that ran perpendicularly in the rocky precipice not far from the cliff—and there it is!"

  The boys fell back a bit, gazing intently at the wide, white strip that seemed to hang along the face of black stone, like a wide streak from a monster whitewash brush.

  "I am certain we are very near the place," said Frank. "We will look for the cliff."

  This they did, and, in a very short time, they fancied they had discovered it.

  "There seems no possible way of reaching the ledge up there," said Bart, somewhat despondently.

  "But there must be a way, if the hidden cabin is built there," declared Frank.

  "I don't doubt it. At the same time, we are not likely to find it. Instead of making queer money in a city, where they would be in constant danger of discovery and arrest, they have come here to this wild region, where they are not likely to be discovered, and where there is very little chance that they will be arrested if they are discovered."

  For some time the boys speculated concerning the possibility of reaching the ledge. They were about to seek a way out of the ravine when something happened that astonished them both.

  "Look, Bart!" softly cried Frank, catching the shoulder of his friend—"look there!"

  He pointed upward to the ledge.

  On the very verge of the sheer descent a girl had suddenly appeared. In her hand she carried a huge umbrella, which she was struggling to open, her movements seeming to indicate that she was in great terror. Her unbound golden hair was falling over her shoulders.

  "It's Vida!" palpitated Bart Hodge.

  "It's Isa!" asserted Frank Merriwell.

  "What does she mean to do?"

  "Wait! Look!"

  "Merciful goodness!"

  Both lads were horrified, for, having succeeded in opening the huge umbrella, the girl suddenly turned, and, with a wild cry, leaped out into space from the edge of the ledge.

  "Frank brought the butt of his Winchester to his shoulder, and began to work the weapon." (See page 296)