may be a
clew. This may explain what has happened."

"If this explains it, there is but one construction to be placed on
Frank's remarkable disappearance."

"And that is that he is----"

"Dead!"

In the treetops the wind seemed to repeat the word in a whisper.

But neither Bart nor Bruce were willing to believe that Frank Merriwell
was dead, for all that his name was there before them on the gray stone
at the head of the lonely grave.

"Dead or living, I'll never rest till I know the truth!" came
passionately from Bart's lips. "If he is dead, the murderers shall
suffer!"

"We must throw off the feeling that anything so awful has happened. Even
now he may be with the others at the yacht. While we have been searching
for him, he may have returned."

Hodge caught at this eagerly.

"You are right!" he said. "Come on; we will hurry back there."

They left the glade, turning to look back as they passed on into the
gloomy woods. They were glad to get away.

At first they hurried on, their hearts buoyant with the thought that
they should find him waiting for them at the yacht. He would laugh at
them, would jolly them because of their foolish fears. The placing of
his name on the headstone of the grave was a ghastly joke, and nothing
more.

In his mind Browning was thinking how he would growl at Merry for
causing them so much trouble. He even thought of the words he would use.

But as they came nearer and nearer to the side of the island near which
the yacht was anchored, their spirits fell again and they were beset by
doubts and fears. What if they should not find Frank waiting for them
when they arrived?

These doubts caused them to walk slower and slower, for they dreaded to
hear that Frank was still missing.

"It seems to me," said Bart, "that it is very probable Merriwell will
not be with Jack and Hans."

"He may not be," confessed Bruce.

"If he had returned, they would have fired guns and done things to let
us know it."

"We might not have heard them."

"We should. The wind is right. We are near the yacht now."

Bruce felt like turning back and making another search. He dreaded to
return and report that they had discovered nothing save the name of the
missing lad on the headstone of a grave.

All at once they came out of the woods upon the high bank, from which
position they could look down into the cove where the yacht lay. There
she was, swinging idly with the incoming tide, and on her deck