rious, awesome, uncanny whisper that seemed to float in
the air. They looked around, they looked upward, they saw nothing but
the blue sky above the leaves and somber trees that surrounded them.

"Dead and buried!"

Now it seemed to come from the ground--seemed to issue from the grave
before them! It was as if the dead man hidden away down there had
uttered the words.

Frank Merriwell shrugged his shoulders, while his companion shivered and
felt for his revolver. A cold chill swept over the big Yale man, as if
he felt the touch of a dead hand. He was awed despite the fact that
there was nothing superstitious in his character.

They listened, expecting to hear the whispers again, but there was such
a silence in the woods as seemed to press down on them like a crushing
weight. Not even a breath of a breeze reached the spot to rustle the
trees, and no sound of the surf chafing against the distant rocky shore
reached their ears.

It seemed at that moment that they alone were the only human living
creatures on that uncanny island. A sense of desolation came upon them
and made them feel as if they were far, far from human beings, buried as
in the heart of a mighty desert.

They did not stir; they stood there listening.

Silence.

Once, far on a Western desert, Browning had experienced the same
feeling of loneliness, but then there was not the grewsome, ghostly fear
that now clutched at his heart and chilled its beatings so it seemed to
be struggling feebly like an imprisoned bird fluttering against the
cruel bars of a cage.

The big fellow choked. There seemed to be a lack of pure air for him to
breathe. He longed to cry out, but his tongue lay stiff and paralyzed in
his mouth.

Then came the thought that some uncanny spell was being wrought about
him, and that soon he would be body and soul in the power of the evil
spirit of the island.

With a mighty effort he moved, he spoke, he said:

"Come, Frank, let's get away from here!"

His voice was husky and hoarse, so that he was startled by its sound.
Merriwell glanced toward him, lifting a hand with a gesture that warned
to silence, while he bent his head toward the grave and listened.

For some moments both stood still, and again Browning felt that strange
spell stealing upon him, as if hypnotic eyes were peering out from the
shadows and looking down into his soul. He shook himself, he even looked
around in search of those eyes; but he saw nothing save the da