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Frank Merriwell Down South, a novel by Burt L. Standish

Chapter 34. A Fearful Fate

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_ CHAPTER XXXIV. A FEARFUL FATE

"Got him!" grated the triumphant young rascal, flourishing the revolver. "That's the time I fixed him!"

The mysterious light vanished in the twinkling of an eye, but it had shone long enough for Gage to do his dastardly work.

The sailors were alarmed by the light, and wished to row away; but Gage raved at them, ordering them to pull down toward the spot where the other boat lay.

After a time, the men recovered enough to do as directed, and the smaller boat was soon found, rocking lightly on the surface.

Running alongside, Gage reached over into the small boat, and his hand found the boy who was stretched in the bottom.

"Here he is!" cried the young rascal, gleefully. "I'll bet anything I put the bullet straight through his heart!"

And then, as if his own words had brought a sense of it all to him, he suddenly shuddered with horror, faintly muttering:

"That was murder!"

The horror grew upon him rapidly, and he began to wonder that he had felt delight when he saw Frank Merriwell fall. The shooting had been the impulse of the moment, and, now that it was done and he realized what it meant, he would have given much to recall that bullet.

"Never mind," he thought. "I swore that one of us should not leave this swamp alive, and my oath will not be broken. I hated Frank Merriwell the first time I saw him, and I have hated him ever since. Now he is out of my way, and he will never cross my path again."

There was a slight stir in the small boat, followed by something like a gasping moan.

"He don't seem to be dead yet, cap'n," said Ben Bowsprit. "I guess your aim wasn't as good as you thought."

That nettled Gage.

"Oh, I don't think he'll recover very fast," said the youthful rascal, harshly.

He rose and stepped over into the smaller boat.

"Give me some matches," he ordered. "I want to take a look at the chap. He must make a beautiful corpse."

"You'll find I'm not dead yet!" returned a weak voice, and Frank Merriwell sat up and grappled with Gage.

A snarl of fury came from the lips of the boy desperado.

"So I didn't finish you! Well, you'll not get away!"

"You'll have to fight before you finish me!" panted Frank.

But Merriwell seemed weak, and Gage did not find it difficult to handle the lad at whom he had shot. He forced Frank down into the bottom of the boat, and then called to his companions:

"Give me some of that line. I'll make him fast."

A piece of rope was handed to him, and Black Tom stepped into the boat to aid him. Between them, they succeeded in making Frank fast, for the boy's struggles were weak, at best.

"Now it is my turn!" cried Leslie, gloatingly. "At Fardale Frank Merriwell triumphed. He disgraced me, and I was forced to fly from the school."

"You disgraced yourself," declared the defiant captive. "You cheated at cards--you fleeced your schoolmates."

"And you exposed the trick! Oh, yes, I was rather flip with the papers, and I should not have been detected but for you, Merriwell. When I was exposed, I knew I would be shunned by all the fellows in school, and so I ran away. But I did not forget who brought the disgrace about, and I knew we should meet some time, Merriwell. We did meet. How you came here I do not know, and why my bullet did not kill you is more than I can understand."

"It would have killed me but for a locket and picture in my pocket," returned Frank. "It struck the locket, and that saved me; but the shock robbed me of strength--it must have robbed me of consciousness for a moment."

"It would have been just as well for you if the locket had not stopped the bullet," declared Gage, fiercely.

"By that I presume you mean that you intend to murder me anyway?"

"I have sworn that one of us shall never leave this swamp alive."

"Go ahead, Gage," came coolly from the lips of the captive. "Luck seems to have turned your way. Make the most of it while you have an opportunity."

"We can't spend time in gabbing here," came nervously from Bowsprit. "Let's get away immediately."

"Yes," put in Black Tom; "fo' de Lawd's sake, le's get away before dat light shine some mo'!"

"That's right," said the old tar. "Some things happen in this swamp that no human being can account for."

Gage was ready enough to get away, and they were soon pulling onward again, with Frank Merriwell, bound and helpless, in the bottom of the smaller boat.

For nearly an hour they rowed, and then they succeeded in finding some dry, solid land where they could camp beneath the tall, black trees.

They were so overcome with alarm that they did not venture to build a fire, for all that Gage was shivering in his wet clothes.

Leslie was still puzzling over Frank Merriwell's astonishing appearance, and he tried to question Frank concerning it, but he could obtain but little satisfaction from the boy he hated.

The night passed, and morning came.

Away to the west stretched the Everglades, while to the north and the east lay the dismal cypress swamps.

The party seemed quite alone in the heart of the desolate region.

Leslie started out to explore the strip of elevated land upon which they had passed the night, and he found it stretched back into the woods, where lay great stagnant pools of water and where grew all kinds of strange plants and vines.

Gage had been from the camp about thirty minutes when he came running back, his face pale, and a fierce look in his eyes.

"I have heard of it!" he kept muttering. "I have heard of it! I have heard of it!"

"Avast there!" cried Bowsprit, with an attempt at cheerfulness. "What are you muttering over? What is it you have heard about, my hearty?"

"The serpent vine," answered Gage, wildly.

"What is the serpent vine?"

"You shall see. I did not believe there was such a thing, but it tangled my feet, it tried to twine about my legs, and I saw the little red flowers opening and shutting like the lips of devils."

"Fo' de Lawd's sake! de boss hab gone stark, starin' mad!" cried Black Tom, staring at Leslie with bulging eyes.

"Not much!" shouted Leslie, hoarsely. "But I have thought of a way to dispose of Frank Merriwell. I will feed him to the serpent vine! Ah, that will be revenge!"

Frank had listened to all this, and he noted that Gage actually seemed like a maniac.

Captain Bellwood, securely bound, was near Frank, to whom he now spoke:

"God pity you, my lad! He was bad enough before, but he seems to have gone mad. He will murder you!"

"Well, if that's to be the end of me, I'll have to take my medicine," came grimly from the lips of the undaunted boy captive.

"My child?" entreated the captain, anxiously. "What became of her? Can you tell me? Where is she now?"

"She is safe, I believe. She is with friends of mine, and they will fight for her as long as they are able to draw a breath."

"Thank Heaven! Now I care not if these wretches murder me!"

"I scarcely think they will murder you, captain. They have nothing in particular against you; but Gage hates me most bitterly."

"That's right!" snarled Leslie, who had overheard Frank's last words. "I do hate you, and my hatred seems to have increased tenfold since last night. I have been thinking--thinking how you have baffled me at every turn whenever we have come together. I have decided that you are my evil genius, and that I shall never have any luck as long as you live. I shall keep my oath. One of us will not leave this swamp alive, and you will be that one!"

"Go ahead with the funeral," said Frank, stoutly. "If you have made up your mind to murder me, I can't help myself; but one thing is sure--you'll not hear me beg."

"Wait till you know what your fate is to be. Boys, set his feet free, and then follow me, with him between you."

The cords which held Frank's feet were released, and he was lifted to a standing position. Then he was marched along after Gage, who led the way.

"Good-by," Frank called back.

Into the woods he was marched, and finally Gage came to a halt, motioning for the others to stop.

"Look!" he cried, pointing; "there is the serpent vine!"

On the ground before them, lay a mass of greenish vines, blossoming over with a dark red flower. Harmless enough they looked, but, as Gage drew a little nearer, they suddenly seemed to come to life, and they began reaching toward his feet, twisting, squirming, undulating like a mass of serpents.

"There!" shouted Leslie--"there is the vine that feeds on flesh and blood! See--see how it reached for my feet! It longs to grasp me, to draw me into its folds, to twine about my body, my neck, to strangle me!"

The sailors shuddered and drew back, while Frank Merriwell's face was very pale.

"It did fasten upon me," Gage continued. "If I had not been ready and quick with my knife, it would have drawn me into its deadly embrace. I managed to cut myself free and escape."

Then he turned to Frank, and the dancing light in his eyes was not a light of sanity.

"Merriwell," he said, "the serpent vine will end your life, and you'll never bother me any more!"

He leaped forward and clutched the helpless captive, screaming:

"Thus I keep my promise!"

And he flung Frank headlong into the clutch of the writhing vine! _

Read next: Chapter 35. The Serpent Vine

Read previous: Chapter 33. Gage Takes A Turn

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