The silence was unbroken save by the mournful sound of the wind in the trees. Bruce went forward quickly and stood by the grave. Bart came up, and together they looked down at the gray headstone. "What is that?" asked Hodge, pointing. "Somebody has been doing something to the stone since it was placed here." They bent down and looked at the stone. "Why," cried Bruce, "the first name has been chiseled off! Another name has been put on! That name is----" "Frank Merriwell!" Astounded, they stared at the headstone. What did it mean? Why was that name upon it? The tightening sensation grew around Browning's heart. All at once it seemed that the mystery of the island was deeper and darker than ever before. "Now what do you think of that?" cried Bart, huskily. Bruce shook his head, for the moment feeling that he was not able to speak. It did not seem that he could govern his voice. All sorts of wild fancies were rushing through his head. He looked at the mound, and a feeling of relief came to him when he saw that it seemed undisturbed. Hodge was shaking. He reached out and grasped the big fellow's arm with a savage clutch. "Was it--was it meant for a warning?" he asked. "Yes," said Bruce, quickly grasping at that explanation, "it must have been. You have struck it, Hodge." "Then it is not likely Frank saw it." "Perhaps not, and yet he may have come here." Then they stood there a long time, silently staring at that stone, on which was chiseled the name of the friend they held dearest in all the world. At last Bruce hoarsely said: "Come, let's get away from here!" "But it may be that--somehow--we may strike a clew here. This may be a clew. This may explain what has happened." "If this explains it, there is but one construction to be placed on Frank's remarkable disappearance." "And that is that he is----" "Dead!" In the treetops the wind seemed to repeat the word in a whisper. But neither Bart nor Bruce were willing to believe that Frank Merriwell was dead, for all that his name was there before them on the gray stone at the head of the lonely grave. "Dead or living, I'll never rest till I know the truth!" came passionately from Bart's lips. "If he is dead, the murderers shall suffer!" "We must throw off the feeling that anything so awful has happened. Even now he may be with the others at the yacht. While we have been searching for him, he may have returned." Hodge caught at this eagerly. "You are right!" he said. "Come on; we will hurry back there." They left the glade, turning to look back as they passed on into the gloomy woods. They were glad to get away. At first they hurried on, their hearts buoyant with the thought that they should find him waiting for them at the yacht. He would laugh at them, would jolly them because of their foolish fears. The placing of his name on the headstone of the grave was a ghastly joke, and nothing more.