hen he said
to the girl:

"Be lively now! Get through the window, put your arms about my neck,
cling for your life, and trust to Frank Merriwell and Providence."

She did so, and they were soon descending the rope.

Frank went down, hand under hand, as he did not dare slide at first,
knowing that his hands would be torn and bleeding, and that he must lose
his hold before the bottom was reached. With the twist about his leg to
aid him, he managed to sustain himself and his living burden very well.

The girl whispered in his ear:

"Courage! You are the noblest fellow I ever saw--the greatest hero in
the whole wide world!"

He made no reply, for his teeth were set, and he was mentally praying
for strength and time.

Down they went--down, down. And then, when nearly half the distance had
been covered, a shout came from above.

"Here they are! Ten thousand fiends! They shall not get away alive!"

It was the voice of Black Harry himself.

"Oh, for a little more time!" panted Frank.

But no more time was to be given him. He heard the voice of the boy
outlaw crying:

"Look up here, Frank Merriwell--look up! I have a little trick to show
you."

Frank looked upward, and he saw Black Harry leaning far out of the
window. A knife glittered in the hand of the young desperado.

"I am going to cut the rope!" came down to the ears of the boy and girl.
"Poor fools! Did you think to escape me! You will go down to your death
in the creek!"

Frank clung with one hand to the rope, although the strain was terrible.
With his other hand he drew one of the revolvers from his pocket, lifted
it, took aim, fired.

The weapon spoke just as Black Harry slashed at the rope.

There was a shriek of pain, a human body shot out from the window, and,
as it went whirling downward, the rope parted!

Then down shot Frank and Lona to fall into the stream. They struck where
the water was quite deep, and they were unharmed, although the girl was
unconscious when our hero bore her to solid ground.

As for Black Harry, he struck where some jagged rocks reared their heads
from the water, and he lay there, in a huddled heap, and dead, forever
past harming any living creature.

And yet, as was afterward discovered by examination, he had not been
touched by the bullet which Frank had fired up at him. He had been
startled by the shot, had lost his balance, and had fallen to his death.

Frank was trying to restore Lona to consciousness when he