Browning shouted the name of his friend and the empty rooms echoed with the sound.
"Frank Merriwell!"
From room to room rushed the big fellow. There was no answer to his cries.
Quickly satisfying himself that Merriwell was nowhere in the upper story of the boarding house, Bruce bounded down the stairs four at a time.
"Frank, where are you?"
No sound save his own voice and the echoes.
A sickening sensation seized upon Browning. He began to feel that a calamity, a tragedy, had taken place.
From room to room he rushed, but he saw nothing of the one he sought. Was it possible Frank had left the building without saying anything to him? He could not think so.
All at once he stood before an open door, and he dimly saw a flight of stairs leading downward into the darkness. A cold, dank smell came up from the depths below.
Browning quickly decided that there must be some sort of a cellar or basement down there. The door was open. Frank had gone down to investigate.