rail.

"It hurts me to think that I must separate soon from all those jolly
fellows!" Merry observed, in a saddened voice. "But commencement is
rushing this way at railroad speed, and most of them will go out of Yale
then forever."

"We'll not get blue about it until we have to," said Elsie, though the
thought had saddened her more than once.

"Just see how the fog is coming down!" Inza observed.

"Hello!" cried Hodge, "another vessel!"

A steamer hove into view through the thickening mist. The boats began to
sound their whistles.

"A sort of Flying Dutchman!" remarked Merriwell, and, indeed, the
passing steamer did seem more a phantasm of the fog than a real vessel
carrying living, breathing people. The _Merry Seas_ sounded her whistle
at frequent intervals as she pushed on into the fog, and for some time
after the steamer had vanished her hoarse whistle could also be heard.

"Hello!" cried Browning, who had been lazily looking over some late New
York papers.

The tone and the change in his manner told that he had come on a
startling piece of news.

"What is it?" Diamond asked.

"Maybe only the same name!" said Browning, and then read this paragraph
from the telegraphic columns:

"A young Irishman named Barney Mulloy was attacked and killed by
hoboes near Sea Cove, on the coast not far from Sandy Hook,
yesterday morning. The object of the tramps was doubtless robbery,
as Mulloy is known to have had a considerable sum of money on his
person."

Browning looked up questioningly.

"Likely another fellow, though!" he said.

"By Jove! I'm afraid not!" exclaimed Frank, who had hastily taken the
paper from Bruce, and was staring in consternation at the fateful item.

"There may be a hundred Barney Mulloys!" said Rattleton.

Frank shook his head.

"I had a letter from him a few days ago, and he was then stopping at Sea
Cove. He was making money, too!"

Merriwell felt stunned. Barney Mulloy had been one of his dearest
friends, faithful and honest, kind-hearted and true, jolly and hopeful.
Through all of his hilarious experiences at Fardale, Frank had not a
stancher adherent. And now Barney was dead, slain by a lot of miserable
tramps! Tears of honest grief and indignation came into Frank's eyes.

"Barney Mulloy dead?" exclaimed Inza, coming up at that moment and
hearing the news.

"What?" cried Elsie.

"Report in the _Herald_," Frank answered. "Killed yesterday by hoboes,
som