The spy, whom Frank had captured, made a savage attempt to thrust Merriwell from the edge of the bluff into the river, seeing the crew was coming, and he soon would be face to face with a lot of angry lads who might not have any mercy on him.
“Easy, my fine chap!” laughed the Yale athlete. “What’s the use! You can’t do it, you know!”
“Help, Harlow!” appealed the spy. “The Blue Cove fellows are coming, and they’ll be awfully mad!”
Harlow hesitated, and then a desperate light came into his eyes. Young ruffian that he was, he always went armed, and now he decided to make an attempt to bluff Frank.
With a quick movement, Rolf produced a revolver, which he pointed straight at Merriwell, crying:
“Let him go—let him go, or I’ll shoot!”
The expression on his face seemed to indicate that he really meant it, and Diamond shivered a bit, knowing Harlow as he did, and thinking him desperate and reckless enough to do almost anything in a burst of passion.
Jack crouched to move aside, so he could spring at Rolf, but Harlow saw the movement, and hissed:
“Stand still there, or I’ll shoot you first!”
“You don’t dare——” began Jack.