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Merriwell to relate to the sheriff the story of his adventures since meeting Isa Isban on the train, and the boy was obliged to go over the ground once more.

      Bart was impatient, thinking how much time was being wasted; but he held himself in check as far as possible.

      The dark-eyed boy noticed that Silas Jones listened to Frank's story with great attentiveness, apparently greatly interested in the narrative.

      When the boy had finished, Blake explained how his sailboat had been engaged by a pleasure party of four persons, two men, a woman and a girl, and how they had failed to return with it, making it impossible for him to pursue the man and the girl who ran off with his canoe.

      "Then you saw the man and girl?" asked Long.

      "I did that," nodded the giant. "An' I said a few things ter them, but it wuz a case uv wasted breath."

      The sheriff seemed to hesitate, doubtfully, and then Frank spoke:

      "Mr. Blake believes he knows where the retreat of the counterfeiters is, and he has offered to guide us there."

      "How about it?" asked Long, quickly. "Is it right?"

      "Wa-al, purty nigh right. I reckon I do know whar they're located, an' I offered ter guide ther party ef you brung a good crowd with yer. You only brung one man."

      "Here are five of us, in all," said Frank. "Two of us may be boys, but it is possible we can fight harder than you imagine."

      "If such a thing can be avoided, we do not want to fight at all," said Long. "We want to take the makers of the queer by surprise and capture them in a strategic manner."

      Silas Jones nodded.

      "Either that or send for plenty of officers ter ketch 'em on ther jump," he said. "Ther United States Secret Service men would be mighty tickled ter git such a show."

      Long gave Jones a peculiar look.

      "The Secret Service men may be mighty glad if they get an opportunity to play second fiddle in this affair," he said.

      Whereat the man from Michigan grinned, but made no further remark.

      The sheriff was for taking the boys back to Carson, leaving them in custody, and then seeking the retreat of the counterfeiters.

      To this Big Gabe would not agree.

      "Give ther youngsters a show," he said. "I hev pledged myself ter stand good fer 'em. Take 'em erlong on ther expedition."

      There was considerable discussion over this, and Long finally gave in, although he expressed himself as certain that the boys would prove a great incumbrance.

      Both Frank and Bart resolved to show him his mistake, in case an opportunity was offered.

      They made preparations for the trip, which Big Gabe declared would take the better part of four days, as they would have to pick their way carefully through the mountains.

      The two horses left by the man and girl were brought up and stripped of their saddles, packs being substituted.

      Big Gabe was almost entirely cleaned out of provisions, but he did not murmur because of that.

      The giant insisted on making the jaunt on foot, saying he did not wish to be incumbered with a horse.

      When everything was ready, they started out, Gabe in the lead, carrying his Winchester at his side.

      It did not take the giant long to convince them that he was far from an invalid. He seemed built of iron, and he was sure footed as a mountain goat.

      Before long they were forced back from the shore of the lake and compelled to pick their way through a rough and rocky region, where progress was exasperatingly slow.

      It was midafternoon, when they halted at the beginning of a desperate and dangerous climb amid mighty bowlders, with yawning chasms on every hand.

      Here they opened one of the packs and brought forth provisions enough for the party to satisfy their hunger, the food being washed down with water from a tinkling brook that ran toward the lake.

      After they had satisfied their hunger, and allowed the horses to feed, the animals were saddled again, the packs made fast, and once more they started onward.

      Although Big Gabe had explored the greater part of the rough region lying around the lake, he had never before attempted to find a road for horses along the precipices and black ravines.

      After eating, they set about the most severe and dangerous part of the journey yet reached. Up amid the giant bowlders they climbed, at times working around some part of the mountain where there would be a bare bluff on one hand and a yawning chasm on the other.

      The giant guide warned them to look out for the loose bowlders, saying that some of them could be sent crashing down the mountain almost by the pressure of a hand.

      The dangers from these huge rocks were made apparent before they had passed beyond that region.

      Frank's horse proved far more skillful in climbing, keeping close to Big Gabe's heels, and the others were left at a considerable distance, so it became necessary to pause once or twice for them to come up.

      A nearly level bit of the mountain had been reached, and they were pausing before the next climb, when a rumbling jar was heard, and a cry of warning broke from the guide.

      "Loose bowlder! Look out fer it, boy!"

      The others were yet some distance away, so that Frank and Gabe were together, the boy being astride his heavily breathing horse.

      With each moment the roaring grew louder, till it swelled to jarring thunder, and then past them shot a huge black mass, enveloped in a cloud of dust. This mass leaped down into the black depths of a great chasm that yawned close at hand.

      Frank's horse was frightened and began to plunge. The boy tried to quiet the animal, which was no easy task. In its mad plunging the creature reached the edge of the chasm. Big Gabe leaped forward with a second shout of warning, but it came too late.

      Horse and rider went over the brink!

      CHAPTER XLIII.

       A FRIGHTFUL PERIL.

       Table of Contents

      Not a sound came from the lips of our hero as his horse went plunging into the chasm, although, in the moment when he went over the brink, the boy fully expected to be dashed to death in the dark depths below.

      He saw Big Gabe leap to clutch him, but realized that the giant was too late.

      In that fateful moment Frank cleared his feet from the stirrups and made a desperate effort to save himself.

      Too late!

      All he could do was to clutch at the high pommel of the Mexican saddle, to which he clung tenaciously.

      A wild, half human scream of terror came from the throat of the horse.

      "Whoa up, thar!" roared the giant, as he made a clutch at the horse.

      By rare good fortune the man clutched the flowing tail of the animal fairly and firmly. His heels settled into a rift of the rocks, and he surged backward.

      Over went the horse, dangling, head downward, above the terrible chasm, while the giant held it thus by clinging to the creature's tail!

      And our hero held fast to the Mexican saddle!

      Frank was amazed when he found the horse was not going downward, and, being unable to see the big man, he wondered what held the animal suspended in the air.

      In a moment the man above cried:

      "Are you gone, boy? Are yer done fer, youngster?"

      "No," replied Frank, with sudden hope. "I am hanging to the saddle. Drop a rope to me, and pull me up—quick, before

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