"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!"