“Those fellows are coming!” sibilated Diamond, as he got upon his feet. “Jove, fellows, they are police! We are pinched if we do not run for it!” “Can’t run!” came firmly from Frank, as he also scrambled to his feet. “Got to get Rudge out of the river at any cost!” “It means disgrace, expulsion, shame if we are caught!” fluttered Diamond. “It means murder if we do not save the proctor!” came back from Frank, as he tore off his coat. “What are you going to do?” hoarsely demanded Browning. “Pull Rudge out or go to the bottom with him!” was the retort. “Stop!” Bruce caught Frank by the shoulder. “You are mad!” “Let go, Bruce Browning!” said Frank, swiftly. “You are my friend, and you will have no one but yourself to blame for what follows if you do not let go!” “I’m not going to see you drown yourself, Merriwell! Go slow!” “This is no time to go slow. Last warning, Browning! Let go!” Bruce did not obey. Smack! Frank Merriwell’s fist struck Browning fairly between the eyes. The big fellow was not prepared for the blow, and it dropped him instantly. Then Frank turned and plunged headlong from the bridge into the dark Quinnepiac River! CHAPTER XXXII. THE HORRORS OF REMORSE. “He’s gone!” Diamond panted the exclamation as he leaned over and looked down. “Here are the cops! Run!” This warning came from Rattleton, who snatched up Frank’s coat and took to his heels. Bruce rose quickly, assisted by Griswold, and, seeing the dark forms approaching, he also hastened from the bridge. Griswold caught hold of Diamond and dragged him from the edge, crying in his ear: “Merry is all right. He can swim like a fish. We can’t stay to be nipped by the cops. We must get away and find a boat. That is the best way to help him.” The Virginian realized instantly that this was true, and he followed the little fellow from the bridge. In the meantime, Frank had struck the water and was swimming about, searching for the unfortunate proctor. It was dark down there under the bridge, and he could see nothing of the man. “Heavens!” gasped Frank. “With his hands tied behind him, and that blanket over his head, Rudge must have sunk like a stone! He is drowned, and we are his murderers!” The thought made Merry sick at heart. Never before in all his life had anything given him such a feeling. He saw himself, a wretched, guilty creature, with the blood of a fellow being on his hands. For an instant he thought of the just retribution that must follow the awful crime, but that thought was banished in his agony over the unfortunate death of the helpless man. Frank heard voices above on the bridge, and seemed to realize that some one was looking down at the surface of the river, but he could not spend a moment to look up, for in that moment Rudge might rise to the surface and sink again. He fought against the current for some moments, and then permitted it to carry him along, realizing that it must carry a helpless man in the same direction.