If Bart had done such a thing, Frank was certain he knew why. Merry had done everything in his power for Hodge, and Bart had felt his utter inability to make repayment. Now it was possible he had sacrificed his own life that Frank might possibly be saved.
Such thoughts brought to Merriwell the tenderest emotions.
“Dear, brave fellow!” he whispered.
Then he murmured a prayer, the words being torn from his lips by the furious gale.
Merry seemed to see Hodge feebly battling with the waves, his strength failing him swiftly. He fancied the waves tearing at him, beating upon him, hurling him down.
The last struggle had come and passed, and the cruel, triumphant, deadly sea rolled on.
In the morning they would search for him on yonder shore where the white tigers were dancing and howling. They would walk along the shore, hoping, yet dreading, to see his white face on the sand.
Frank thought of the time he had first met Hodge at Fardale Station. They had met as enemies, and Merry had struck the proud and haughty lad who was shaking a barefooted urchin, after having kicked the urchin’s dog from the station platform.
Hodge had vowed vengeance, and he had resorted to questionable methods for obtaining it; but in everything he had been beaten by Frank.
Then came the time that Bart had realized the cowardice of his own actions and Merriwell’s nobility. Later they had become friends, roommates, chums. They had fought for each other, and Bart had said more than once that he would die for Frank Merriwell.