Frank Merriwell's Bravery

by Burt L. Standish

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.