Not until Browning had disappeared and Frank was quite alone did he realize the loneliness of the place. The water washing against the rocky shore made the only sound to be heard, unless it was the occasional cry of a wheeling gull.
The tide was going out, and already the black ledges were rising out of the water in the distance. Those were called "half-tide ledges" by the fishermen. There were other black rocks which rose barren and bleak above the highest tides. Near those ledges at certain seasons of the year sportsmen set their "tollers," or decoys, and crouching in nooks of the rocks, fired hundreds of shots at the sea birds lured to their doom by the wooden representations of their mates.
Merriwell found a place where he could sit in a sheltered spot and watch the sailboat, at the same time having a good view of the bay and the islands and ledges.
As he sat there Frank meditated on the mystery of the island. He was fully convinced that there was some reason why certain human beings desired to frighten all others away from the place. That the man from Boston had been murdered and buried on that island was quite probable. Perhaps he had been murdered for booty; perhaps he had discovered the secret of the island, and his death had been accomplished in order to seal his lips. In the latter case there must be some powerful reason whythe desperadoes who slew him did not wish the secret revealed to the world.
These thoughts led Merry to the conclusion that some criminal business was carried on upon that island. He was well aware that he was taking desperate chances in trying to find out what sort of business it was, but the mystery lured him on, and the very fact that there was danger lent a fascination to the adventure.
How long he sat there thinking thus he did not know, but at last he was startled by a sound near at hand. He turned quickly and what he saw brought him to his feet with a bound.
Peering from the bushes was the most horrible face he had ever looked upon. It was twisted and contorted in a frightful manner, the lips were drawn back from long, yellow fangs, the eyes seemed to glare like coals of fire, and about these frightful features tumbled a mass of tangled hair.
"The monster!"
That thought flashed into Frank's mind. He had no doubt but he was face to face with the creature that had frightened the simple fishermen from the island.
For some moments Frank stood there, staring at that horrible face. Then a clawlike hand came out through the bushes and seemed to reach toward him, while a howl that was blood-curdling came from the creature's lips.
That sound was the same that had frightened the fishermen into running for their lives, but, instead of running, Frank made a dash for the creature, Browning's revolver grasped in his hand.
It was a most astonishing move on the part of the boy. For a moment the monster of the island remained motionless, and then that horrible face disappeared.
With a leap, Frank plunged straight into the bushes, ready to grapple with the thing.
He found nothing! It had vanished!
Swaying bushes close at hand guided him, and he scarcely paused an instant. Straight forward he rushed, ready for the encounter at any instant.
He caught a glimpse of something plunging through the bushes, and he followed fearlessly.
A moment later he came out to open ground, and ahead of him he saw a misshapen figure running with wonderful speed toward the head of the cove.
Perhaps for the first time since the creature had been seen on the island the order of things had changed and it was the pursued instead of the pursuer.
"Stop!" shouted Frank.
The monster looked back over a twisted shoulder, and snarled like a wild animal, but ran faster than ever.
"Stop, or I shall shoot!"
Frank flourished the revolver, running as hard as he could in pursuit.
The command was not obeyed.
In an attempt to frighten the creature into obeying, Frank fired two shots into the air.
Still the thing ran on.
"Well, I see I must catch him," muttered Merriwell.
He set his teeth and made wonderful speed over the uneven ground. Never in any college sprinting match had he made such speed. He was determined to overtake that hideous thing and solve the mystery of the island.
Frank soon saw he was gaining. The creature looked back and saw the same, whereupon it seemed to increase its efforts.
But, although the monster was a swift runner, it could not get away from Merriwell. The cove was passed, and the race continued up the rise toward the big building above.
Frank was drawing nearer and nearer. He reached out a hand to grasp the shoulder of the hunchback, for there was a large hump on the back of the fugitive.
At that moment the panting thing whirled and grappled with him suddenly.
Frank was taken by surprise by the movement, and in a twinkling he was flung to his knees. The monster snarled with satisfaction and sought to clutch his throat with those clawlike hands.
Summoning all his strength, Merriwell fought his way to his feet and obtained a better hold on the thing, keeping those twisted fingers away from his throat.
Then there was a fierce struggle for the mastery. During that struggle the tushes in the mouth of the being with whom Frank was battling suddenly fell out and dropped to the ground.
They were false teeth, made to look as hideous as possible.
And now Merry could see that the man's face was made up to appear twisted and deformed, and, a moment after the teeth fell out, the shaggy wig of tangled hair was torn away, showing that also was false and a part of the make-up.
Now Merriwell recognized the man before him.
It was the hunchback of Green's Landing—Put Wiley!
"Really, Mr. Wiley, this is quite a surprise!" exclaimed Frank, triumphantly. "You had a splendid make-up, but the cat is out of the bag now."
"Curse ye!" grated the hunchback. "You'll pay for this with your life!"
"Oh, I don't know!"
"I do."
Wiley's voice did not utter these two words; they were spoken by another person, and Frank was clutched from behind. Strong hands closed about his neck, and hardfingers crushed into his windpipe, so that his breath was shut off in a moment.
Frank could not withstand this onset, he was forced to his knees. Being unable to breathe, he tried to tear those crushing fingers away, but the effort was in vain. He had dropped the revolver, and it was beyond his reach.
He knew at that moment that he was in the clutch of the ruffians who had murdered the man from Boston, and he had no doubt but a like fate was meant for him. Still he was powerless to save himself, for he was given no show. Things turned black and began to whirl around him, bombs seemed bursting in his head, bells were ringing in his ears, and then—nothingness!
When Frank recovered consciousness he felt as if his windpipe had been crushed, and he seemed numb and helpless in every limb. He realized immediately that he was being roughly handled, and he heard a harsh voice say:
"That's all right. He can't git erway. We can't waste any more time."
He opened his eyes and looked up into the face of the speaker—the cock-eyed man!
Put Wiley, the hunchback, was there, too.
"Hello!" growled the man with the crooked eye. "He's come round. I'm glad on it, fer I want him ter know jest what his nosin' foolishness has done fer him."
Frank tried to speak, but he could not utter more than a wheezing whisper. The hunchback raised a foot, as if to bring it down on the face of the helpless lad, for Frank was bound hands and feet, but the other man thrust him aside, growling:
"Whut's the use! He'll be dead in five minutes. Don't kick ther poor fool."
Then Frank realized that he was bound across the trackof the old railroad that ran from the sheds to the quarry. The look that came to the face of the helpless lad seemed to tell the cock-eyed man that he understood the situation.
"You've made a fool of yerself," declared the man, unpityingly. "You was too nosy. Inquisitive critters alwus git inter trouble. The Boston man was too fresh, and he's planted. You saw his grave."
Strangely enough, at that moment the helpless boy asked a queer question:
"Where were you when you made that ghostly whisper?" he managed to huskily inquire.
"I dunno what good it'll do to ye ter know," was the answer. "You'll be dead right away. Mebbe one of us was hid in a holler tree near ye."
"What do you mean to do with me?"
"Waal, we've tied ye here acrost ther rails. Up there in the quarry is a car loaded with granite. It won't take much ter send it scootin' down the track, and it will cut you clean in two. You'll have time enough to think whut a fool ye was and say yer prayers while we are startin' ther car, but you'd better begin now. Good-by."
Then the two murderous wretches hurried up the track and quickly disappeared.
Frank tried to cry for aid, but he could not make a sound that could be heard ten rods away. He twisted and squirmed in a vain effort to free himself. And then he fell to listening, listening, listening.
It was not long before he heard the sound which he dreaded. There was a distant rumble, a faint jarring of the rails.
The car had started down the incline!
"God help me!"
The rumbling sound grew louder and louder. The car was gathering speed as it came on.
"Frank—Frank Merriwell!"
He heard Browning call near at hand, and now he made a mighty effort and answered:
"Here! Quick! Help!"
The big Yale man came rushing to the track, followed by Hodge, just as the car loaded with granite came into view.
Instantly Bruce realized the peril of the lad who was bound to the rails, and he saw there was no time to cut the ropes and set Frank free.
With a hoarse shout he leaped forward, catching up a stout stick of timber in an instant. One end of the timber he thrust under the rails of the track, and then he lifted on the other end with all his wonderful strength.
The track was old, the ties were rotten, and the spikes gave way. The rail was pried aside in a moment. Then Bruce went at the other and tore that up.
The car was upon him. He made a great leap backward and got off the track barely in time.
Then, an instant later, the car, loaded with granite, left the rails and shot down the bank, spilling the slabs of rock and plunged with a splash into the water, disappearing from view.
Frank was saved!
It was an hour later when Merriwell, Browning and Hodge returned to theWhite Wings. With the exception of a slight hoarseness, Frank could speak as well as ever, although his throat was sore and lame.
The boys had not returned to the yacht till they were certain the hunchback and the cock-eyed man had left the island, for the lap-streak boat was seen bound up the bay under full sail.
Browning was fierce for revenge. Merriwell did notsay much, but deep down in his heart he was determined to punish the ruffians who had so nearly ended his existence. He cautioned the boys not to let the girls or Miss Gale know anything of the adventures on the island.
"We will land them at Green's Landing," he said, "and then I am coming back to this island. The mystery of this place is not yet solved. Why are those two men trying to frighten everybody away from here? I want to know that, and I mean to know it."
On reaching the yacht Jack Diamond was found paying every attention to Paula Benjamin, and it was plain that there was no longer a misunderstanding between them.
The Virginian shot Browning a glance of triumph, in which was also a warning.
But Bruce scarce gave Jack or Paula a thought, for other matters were on his mind then. He was eager and anxious to get rid of the girls and their chaperon in order that the party might return to Devil Island and seek to solve the deep mystery of the place and punish the wretches who had tried to end Frank's life.
"Now, fellows," said Frank Merriwell, as he faced his four "shipmates" in the cabin of his yacht,White Wings, which was riding at anchor in the harbor at Green's Landing, "I have called you together for a council of war."
"I'm tired," grunted Bruce Browning. "Can't I rest in my bunk while the powwow is going on?"
"No," came firmly from Frank, "this is a matter of business, and it won't hurt you to sit up a while."
"Oh, get a brace on!" exclaimed Diamond, flinging the words at the big Yale man. "Act as if you had some life in you, old fellow."
The manner in which the words were spoken made the usually polite Virginian seem quite unlike himself, but Bruce simply grinned, observing:
"You shouldn't hold a grudge because I flirted a little with Miss Benjamin, Diamond; you got a lead on me while Merriwell and I were investigating on Devil Island, and won her back, all right. Don't be sour over it."
The Southerner sprang up, his eyes flashing:
"Mr. Browning," he said, hotly, "I warn you not to speak lightly of Miss Benjamin! You seem to take delight in mentioning her in connection with every little occurrence, and it is getting tiresome. There is a limit!"
"Huah!" grunted the giant. "Touchy, mighty touchy. First thing I know he'll be challenging me to a duel."
"It would be useless to challenge you!" flashed Jack. "You Northerners are too cold blooded to fight."
"Well, now, this will do!" cut in Merry, promptly rising to his feet. "I won't have it on board my yacht."
"Then I suppose we can go on shore and fight it out," said Jack, sourly.
"If you want to make fools of yourselves—yes."
"You are very plain spoken, Mr. Merriwell."
"It is necessary at times, Diamond. Hold your temper in check, old man, and don't talk about Northerners and Southerners. There is no North, no South. The time is past. When you came to Yale you were full of freakish notions about the North and the South, but I fancied you had been pretty well cured of that. I see it will crop out occasionally, though."
To this Diamond made no retort, but he looked thoroughly angry. With another fellow Frank would have laughed him out of the mood, but he knew it would not do to try that on the Virginian, for Jack could not endure a bit of ridicule.
However, Merry talked quietly, and soon he could see he was pouring oil on the troubled waters, for the look of anger was leaving Diamond's face, and Browning had assumed a lounging attitude.
"This is no time for hard feelings between any of us," said Frank. "As I said a few minutes ago, I have called you together for a council of war."
"Vot did I mean ven you said dot?" asked Hans Dunnerwust. "Berhaps you don'd understood me as vell as I might. Vot for haf dot gouncil uf var peen caldt?"
"Yes," said Bart Hodge, "just what are you driving at, Merriwell?"
"Fellows, we have struck a mystery."
"I thought you had solved the mystery of the monster of Devil Island."
"I solved the mystery of the monster's identity and discovered the creature was the hunchback, Put Wiley, in disguise."
"But he came near ending your career."
"With the aid of the cock-eyed man, whose name, I have learned, since returning to Green's Landing, is Dan Hicks. I could have handled Wiley alone, but Hicks came to his aid and caught me by the throat, grasping me from behind. Together they knocked me out and tied me to the old railroad on the island. But for Browning's wonderful efforts in ripping up the rails, they would have succeeded in their attempt to send a flat car loaded with granite down the track, and I must have been cut in two. I tell you, fellows, it was a wonderful sight to see Bruce pry up those rails and send that car, granite and all, into the water. Ah, Browning!" exclaimed Merriwell, his voice betraying his feeling despite his effort to keep it under control, "it prolonged my life when you were born strong."
"Oh, it wasn't much work to rip up those rails," said the big fellow, with an air of modesty. "You see, the spikes that held them were planted in rotten wood, for the ties are very old."
"You never moved half as fast before in your life, Browning," said Hodge. "You did get a hustle on then."
"I had to," grunted Bruce. "Saw there wasn't any time to loaf."
"You saved my life," declared Frank. "The identity of the monster is solved, but the mystery of the island is as deep as ever."
"Shust vot do I mean ven you said dot?" asked Hans.
"Why should the hunchback rig himself up in that horrible manner and try to frighten persons away from the island?"
"There is a mystery," confessed Diamond.
"Certainly it is," nodded Merriwell. "Discovering the identity of the monster has not seemed to clear things up much. It has added to my curiosity."
"Berhaps id peen a healthy thing to stayed avay dot islands from," observed Hans, sagely.
"Whatever the secret of the island may be," said Frank, "those men are ready to commit murder in order to guard it."
"They came near succeeding," said Hodge.
"It looks as if they have succeeded."
"Eh? How?"
"You remember the story of the Boston man who was landed on the island and never seen afterward."
"The cock-eyed man told that story."
"Yes."
"Perhaps that was a part of his plan to scare us away from the island—to keep us from going there."
"Perhaps so; but you remember he told us there was a grave on the island and the headstone was marked, 'Sacred to the memory of Rawson Denning.'"
"Yes. More of his plan to scare us away."
"The grave is there."
"What?"
"Sure."
"You—you——"
"Found it. Bruce was with me. We came out into a dismal glade in the heart of the black woods, and there was the grave and the headstone with the words upon it."
"Jingoes!"
Hodge stared at Frank a few moments, and then asked:
"Do you really believe the Boston man was murdered and buried in that grave?"
"Rawson was the name he gave, and the grave was found on the island after his strange disappearance. It seems probable enough that he is planted there."
"By Chorch!" exclaimed the Dutch boy, turning pale; "I don'd vant to monkey aroundt dot island all alone by yourself."
"Do you have any idea what the mystery of the island can be, Merriwell?" asked Hodge, eagerly.
"Of course I do not know any better than yourself, but I have a suspicion."
"What do you think?"
"Yaw!" cried Hans; "vat do I think?"
"I believe some kind of unlawful business is carried on there, and for that reason the criminals are using every means to frighten away anybody who might prove troublesome or inquisitive."
"Then will it pay us to be troublesome and inquisitive?" said Diamond.
"That is the very matter we are here to discuss. The girls and Miss Gale are comfortably located here at Green's Landing, and they will be able to amuse themselves for a day or two. If we wish, we can run down to Devil Island every morning and return here every night. I am willing to confess that my curiosity is aroused, and I would give something to solve the mystery of the place; but I do not wish to drag any of my friends into danger where they do not wish to go."
"I hardly think there is one in this party who will not stand by you wherever you go, Merriwell," said Bart, quickly. "You can count on me."
"I knew it."
"And me," grunted Browning.
"I thought so."
"Und I vos anodder!" exclaimed Hans.
"That is good."
"Don't think for a moment that I will go back on you," said Diamond. "I started on this cruise with the intention of staying with you, and I shall."
"Good. That part of it is settled. I have said that the mystery of that island belongs to me, and I will solve it. I mean to keep my word."
"Vale," said Hans, "I never knowed yourseluf ven you didn'd keep your vord, Vrankie. But maype you don'd vant to took some more chances uf peing runned ofer a railroat on?"
"Hardly. We have a fair breeze. Shall we run down to the island this forenoon?"
"Come on," said Diamond, suddenly. "If we have a mystery to solve, the sooner we get after it the better."
There was a thump against the side of the yacht, and a voice called:
"Ahoy on board there! I want to see the captain of this craft."
When Frank reached the deck he saw a jolly-looking little man in gray clothes coming over the rail. Beside the yacht lay a dory, in which sat a fisherman who had rowed the old man off to theWhite Wings.
"Dang a dory," exclaimed the little man in gray, with a chuckle. "She may be all right to row round in on a troubled sea, but she'll tip quicker'n scat if you step up on the side of her. This one near spilt me into the drink after I was alongside here. What I want is a flat-bottomed scow or raft. I hope this yacht is good and steady, for I'm going to take a cruise in her."
"You are?" gasped Frank, smiling. "Well, that is cool."
"Of course," nodded the little man, brightly. "Everything around me is cool, even to my name, and that is Cooler—Caleb Cooler."
"I like your nerve!"
"I thought you would, though I have seen people who didn't like it. Some folks are fussy—here, my man," turning to the boatman, "here is the fifty cents I promised you if you would set me on board here. I shan't want you any more. You may go."
"Hold on," came firmly from Frank, who also spoke to the man in the dory. "I think Mr. Cooler is mistaken. He will want you—to take him ashore again."
"Oh, no—no, indeed," chuckled Mr. Cooler, pleasantly. "You are quite wrong, young man. I am going to Devil Island with you."
"The—the—dickens you are?" exclaimed Frank. Hecame near using another word in the place of "dickens," for now he was literally astounded.
"Oh, yes," nodded the queer old man, still laughing. "I won't be a bit of bother. In fact, you will find me mighty jolly company. Tickle me gently, and I am more fun than a variety show. I have been paid in my day to travel around with folks just to amuse them. I'm sure death to the blues, and I am better than all the doctor's medicine you ever took."
"Well, I haven't the blues, and I am not in need of medicine."
"Say you so? You're in luck. You do look cheerful and healthy, that's a fact."
"But I have some curiosity."
"Glad to know you are troubled by something."
"Yes, I am curious to know how you happened to come aboard this yacht in order to get to Devil Island."
"Why, aren't you going there?"
"Perhaps so; but how do you know it?"
"Feller told me so."
"When?"
"Little while ago."
"Where?"
"Up at Jobbins' store."
"What kind of a fellow? How did he look?"
"Looked as if some chap had swatted him with a brick right on the bridge of his proboscis, for it had a strong list to starboard, and one of his eyes was keeping watch at the end of it, while the other eye was on guard to see that no more bricks were coming in that direction."
"The man with the cock-eye!" exclaimed Merriwell.
"Sure as you live!" cried Hodge, who had followed Frank to the deck. "It's Hicks."
"So that scoundrel has dared venture into Green'sLanding so soon," said Frank, grimly. "And he knows he did not succeed in his foul attempt to murder me!"
"Eh?" exclaimed the little man, in surprise. "What's that? Murder? Did he——"
"Never mind," interrupted Frank, eying the man in gray, as if seeking to read his thoughts. "I have a little affair to settle with Mr. Hicks, and the worst recommendation you could have is the fact that he sent you here. He simply surmised that I contemplated returning to Devil Island."
"But don't you?"
"That is my affair, Mr. Cooler. In no case do I propose to carry passengers."
"I am not passengers. I am simply a passenger. I won't bother you a bit. Even if you are not going to the island, I'll pay you to land me there."
"You seem very anxious to reach the place."
"I am. I am in a bigger hurry than a dog with a package of firecrackers tied to his tail. It's a matter of business. No time is to be lost."
"You will have to seek another mode of conveyance."
"What? Now, you are not in earnest! Ha! ha! He! he! I see that you are something of a joker. It's all right, all right. I tumble to your game."
"And I think I tumble to your game, Mr. Cooler," said Merry, sternly. "You can have the information you want."
"The information?" repeated the queer old man, in apparent consternation. "Why, it can't be that you are connected with the Eastern Bay Land Syndicate?"
"I do not know anything about the Eastern Bay Land Syndicate."
"What a relief!" sighed Mr. Cooler. "Really, you gave me quite a start. But I am ahead of them. If the island isas represented, I will secure it. This part of the Bay is bound to become famous with summer people."
"I do not know what you are trying to give me, but I tell you I am onto your little game. Go back to Mr. Dave Hicks and tell him I am going to Devil Island. I have met him there once; tell him I shall be pleased to meet him there again."
"But I do not want to go back to Mr. Hicks,"protested the little man. "I want to go to Devil Island with you."
"You can't go."
"I must. Young man, I will pay you any——"
"I do not want your pay. You came aboard by that boat. Get into it and return ashore. If you are so anxious to get to Devil Island, you will find plenty of fishermen who will set you on there if you pay them for it."
"You are wrong. All the fishermen seem afraid to go near it. I tried several of them this morning, and then the man with the broken nose and the bent eye told me you were going down that way. That is why I am here."
The little man in gray seemed very much in earnest now, but Frank had made up his mind and was not to be turned.
"Get into that boat, sir," he commanded. "We can't take you to Devil Island."
"You'll have to," said Mr. Cooler, stubbornly. "I am here, and I am going with you."
"I rather think not," drawled Bruce Browning, who had been brought to the deck at last by the sound of talk.
The big fellow picked the little man up by the collar, carried him to the rail and dropped him into the dory, saying to the boatman:
"Take him ashore immediately, or he will have toswim ashore, for I shall throw him overboard if he boards theWhite Wingsagain."
The queer little man in gray looked astounded and then amused. He reached up and pulled his coat collar round into place, and stared at Bruce, beginning to chuckle, as if the whole thing was a very entertaining joke.
"He! he!" he laughed. "Excuse me. Can't help it. Very funny. You chaps act like you thought I'd bite. I won't bite. Never bit a man in all my life. However, I see you are determined to go away without me, and I'll not try to force myself upon you. If there is anything I detest it is a man who makes himself obnoxious by forcing himself on others. He! he!"
"Ha! ha!" laughed Hans. "I vos der funniest man you efer seen, ain'd id? Vale! vale! vale! Der next dime you come aproad derVite Vingsyou hat petter stayed ashore."
"Now, that is more than I can stand," cried the little man, trying to look fierce. "No Irishman can talk to me like that."
"Vat?" shouted Hans. "Who vos I callin' an Irishman? You petter peen gareful ur you vill got me indo drouple! I vant you to understood I nefer peen an Irishman in mein life!"
"I don't wonder you deny your nationality," said Mr. Cooler. "But you cannot deceive anyone. That mug and that brogue will betray anywhere that you are Irish to the bone."
Hans began to jump up and down excitedly, shaking his fist at the little man.
"You shust safed my life py geddin' off this yotch vrom!" he yelled. "I murdered der last man vat caldt you Irish! Uf I efer seen you again you vill punch mein face off, und don'd you vorgot id!"
"Oh, keep cool, Patsey," advised the man in gray.
Now a wild howl issued from Dunnerwust's throat, and he rushed to the rail, leaning over to shake his fist as near his tomentor as possible.
"Uf you dare to caldt me Batsey aken you vill gif me a lickens!" he wildly threatened. "I von't pe caldt Batsey! Batsey vasn't your name, so don'd you dare to caldt me dot! I vos porn in Sharmeny."
"What part of Ireland is that in?" mildly inquired the little man. "I should say by your brogue that you came from County Cork, or somewhere in the south of Ireland."
"Oh, gif me someding to murter him mit!" shrieked Hans, like a maniac. "Gif me a gun! I vill shot him on der spot, or somevere near id! Gif me a gun!"
Then he made a wild rush for the cabin, still howling for a gun, and fell with a great clatter down the companion way.
"Take my advice, Mr. Cooler," said Frank, who was laughing now, "get as far away from this yacht as possible before Hans comes on deck again. He has gone for a gun, and there are several below, all of them loaded."
"As I do not care to be filled full of lead, I will take your advice," said the man in gray, calmly. "Irishmen are very quick-tempered, and I see I have ruffled this one somewhat. However, he proved very amusing for a short time. Good-day, Mr. Merriwell. I hope to see you later. In fact, I think I shall—Bill, you may set me ashore."
Bill, the boatman, was somewhat nervous, and he rowed away from the yacht as hastily as possible.
The dory was not many lengths away before Hans came howling to the deck, wildly flourishing one of Merry's shotguns.
"Shown me to him!" yelled Hans, almost frothing at the mouth. "Vere vos der man vot caldt you an Irishmans? He vill shoot me in a minute uf I see heem! Vere he vos?"
Then as he saw the dory pulling away, he rushed to the side of the yacht and prepared to shoot, but Frank seized him and took the gun away in a twinkling, saying, sternly:
"Are you crazy, Hans? Do you want to be hanged for murder? I never saw you this way before."
"Dot man caldt me an Irishmans!"
"Well?"
"He caldt me Batsey?"
"A very natural mistake, considering that you have a face that is strongly Irish in its general appearance and you have associated with Barney Mulloy so much that you have acquired his brogue."
Hans gasped and staggered.
"Vot do you hear?" he faintly said. "Uf dot peen a fact, I vos retty to shuffle off der mortal pucket und kick der coil! I don'd vant to lif no longer ven I got to lookin' an Irishman like und dalkin' so I mistook volks for von! My heart vos proken!"
Then, sobbing violently, he again staggered toward the cabin and once more fell down the companion way.
Laughing heartily, Frank followed him, and found Hans lying where he had fallen below.
"Are you hurt?" asked Merry, anxiously.
"Yaw!" sobbed Hans.
"Bad?"
"Yaw!"
"Where?"
"All ofer."
"Can't you get up?"
"I don't vant to got ub. I vant to die! Id vos my heart dot vos hurt. Oh, shust to vancy dot my vace looks like an Irishmans! Mein Gott! id vos awful!"
"Perhaps you can have your face changed, so do not take it so much to heart."
"Now you peen shoking."
"No; in New York there is a man who advertises to make over faces—to change them completely. It is possible that he might be able to remove the Irish look from your face."
Hans sat up.
"Py Chorch!" he cried. "Uf dot peen a vact, I vos goin' to had a new vace shust as soon as you can! Id peen der only thing vot vill kept me a brison oudt uf. I shall murder der next man dot caldt me Irish!"
"Well, you can have your face built over when you get back to New York, so don't take it so much to heart."
Hans got up after a while and dragged himself to a seat, while Frank replaced the gun in the strap from which the Dutch lad had taken it.
Browning came loafing down into the cabin, followed by Hodge.
"What do you make of that queer little man, Merriwell?" asked Bruce, flinging himself down lazily.
"I sized him up as a spy," said Frank. "He was sent off to find out if we intended to return to Devil Island. He found out."
"He certainly is an odd character."
"As queer as anything I have seen down this way. Somehow he did not seem like a native."
"No native to him," said Bart, as if that point was settled in his mind.
"He did have a crust," said Bruce.
"A crust!" cried Frank, laughing as he remembered what had taken place. "Why, I never saw anything like it! Came on board and calmly informed me he was going to Devil Island with us, and he would not think of leaving when I told him we did not want him."
"And he was not even ruffled when I dropped him over into the dory. He is well named, for a cooler customer I never saw."
"And he said he would see you again, Merry."
"I noticed that."
"But he didn't seem much of a desperado," yawned Bruce.
"Appearances are deceptive."
"Yaw!" muttered Hans. "Don peen a vact somepody took me an Irishman vor! Dot vos der plow dot gif me der lifer gomblaint mit my heart in!"
"I don't suppose, Merry," said Bart, "that you will defer your visit to Devil Island because of what lately happened?"
"I should say not!" exclaimed Frank. "I am beginning to get warmed up. If they but knew it, somebody is doing the very things to spur me on to solve the mystery."
"Hadn't we better leave Diamond here at the landing to look after the girls?" said Bruce. "It's plain he does not wish to waste the time to go down to Devil Island."
"It is plain you do not know anything about it, sir!" said Jack, sharply, as he stepped into the cabin. "I am ready to go, and the sooner we start the better I shall like it. If we are to investigate, I am in favor of getting at the investigation without delay."
"We will get away as soon as possible," said Frank. "All hands on deck."
In a very short time theWhite Wingswas running out of the harbor, headed for Devil Island.
From the shore more than one pair of eyes were watching her with looks that boded no good to her inquisitive and daring owner.
As Bold Island harbor was sheltered and the yacht could lay close in to the shore of Devil Island and be so hidden that she would escape observation to a large extent, Frank ran in there, choosing that anchorage in preference to the one in the cove on the other side of the island of mystery.
It was near low tide when Merry ran in there, and he did not stop till the keel of theWhite Wingsstuck fast in the mud at the bottom.
"I thought you were getting in too near," said Hodge.
"Not getting in near enough to suit me," declared Frank. "The bottom is soft here, and the yacht would sit up straight in the mud if the tide ran out so that she was left high and dry. It is low water now. At high water she will float all right and have any amount of water under her keel."
As soon as everything was attended to on the yacht, Frank cried:
"Come on, fellows, let's row over to Bold Island and see if we can find some of her famous clams. We may not get another opportunity like this."
"Oh, what's the use," yawned Browning, sleepily. "Too much trouble. I'm going below and turn in."
"I will stay to look after the yacht while Browning gets his nap," said Hodge.
Diamond was ready to go with Frank, and Merry asked Hans to come along. They had purchased a clam hoe at the Landing, so they were prepared to hunt the shy and retiring clam.
"Vale," said Hans, sadly, "I vill go mit you, poys, but I don'd peen aple to took no bleasure mit der shob since I vos caldt an Irishman. I don'd pelief you vill efer got ofer dot."
He looked very sad and downcast, as if he were nearly, heartbroken, causing Merry to laugh softly.
The three got into the boat and pulled over to Bold Island, where they began searching for the clams that have made the island famous throughout Penobscot Bay.
It was some time before they could find any clams, for the beach had been dug over and over till it did not seem there was a place left untouched. At last Frank turned over a large, flat rock, and down in the sand beneath it they struck their first clam. That clam, measured in its shell, was exactly seven inches long and a little more than five inches wide, while the shell itself was almost as white as the shell of an egg.
When Merry turned up this clam, Hans staggered and sat down on the sand with great violence, and there he sat, staring and muttering:
"Vot der tyrful vos dot? Uf dot don'd peen der varter uf all glams, you vos a liar! I don'd pelief I efer seen anyding like dot pefore in all your porn tays!"
"Hurrah!" cried Merry. "Here's proof the fishermen down this way are not all liars, or do not lie about everything. They told me this was the kind of game we should find here."
"But this must be unusual," said Diamond. "Can't all of them be like this."
"They say so."
"Well, they cannot be very good to eat. They must be too tough."
"On the contrary, I have heard they are splendid eating. Here is another! By Jove, it's fully as large as the first!"
Hans sat still on the sand and stared straight at thefirst clam turned out. Frank looked at him and saw the Dutch boy appeared on the verge of bursting into tears.
"What's the matter, Dunnerwust?" he asked.
"I vos peginnin' to seen things queer," replied Hans. "Vot do I think? Vale, uf dot glam don'd look like der mug an Irishman of, you vos a liar! Uf I kept on seein' things like dot to remindt me vot dot man in gray said, id vill drife me to trink ur to sluicide!"
They had brought along a bucket, and it did not take long to fill it with these large clams. Then they emptied it into the bottom of the boat and found another bucketful before stopping. With those they returned to the boat.
"We will go ashore on Devil Island, where there are plenty of rocks of all kinds, and seaweed, and there we'll have a clambake," said Merry. "There is wood enough on Devil Island, too, and it is nearer to the yacht."
The sound of their oars brought Hodge on deck.
"What luck?" he asked, as they approached.
"Great luck," answered Frank. "Get in, and we will take you ashore over yonder, where we are going to have a clam roast."
The clam hoe was passed up to Bart, and then he swung down into the boat, and soon all were ashore on the island of mystery.
Frank began constructing an oven amid the rocks, sending the others for fuel and seaweed. It did not take long to make preparations for the bake, and soon a roaring fire was blazing, as a lot of dry wood had been found near the deserted camps on that side of the island.
Frank took the clams down to the water and washed them carefully, a bucketful at a time, turning them all into the hollow of a large rock near the fire.
As the fire grew hotter, Merry threw stones into it andkept it roaring. None of the stones were smaller than a man's fist, and some were larger than a man's head.
"Why are you doing that?" asked Hodge.
"You will see when the time comes," smiled Frank.
Hans sat on a rock and stared into the fire, his air of dejection being extremely ludicrous to behold.
"Come, come, forget it!" exclaimed Merry. "Cheer up and be like yourself."
"I can nefer peen like yourseluf again so long as I had this face onto me," sighed Hans. "Id peen a vrightful thing to think dot I might peen misdooken any dime an Irishmans vor! Dunder und blitzens! I vos all proken ub in peesness ofer dot!"
It was useless to try to cheer him up. The more they talked to him the sadder and more downcast he looked.
After a while Frank had burned out nearly all the wood, and nothing was left but a dying fire. He did not wait for it to die down, but raked away everything but the red-hot coals and some of the stones in the fireplace of stone. Then he took the wet seaweed and threw it into the fireplace, where it began to sizzle and steam.
"In with the clams, boys!" he cried, as he began to toss the big fellows in upon the seaweed.
They helped him, and soon all the clams were scattered on the steaming seaweed. Then he covered them with more seaweed, and, aided by the others, piled the hot rocks he had drawn out of the fireplace on top of this mass of seaweed.
What a sizzling and steaming there was, and what a delightful odor came to their nostrils! Quickly Frank had another fire going, and by this he kept hot a mass of rocks he had heated in the first fire, but had not piled upon the seaweed. In this way, by the time the rocks on the weed were cooled off, more rocks were ready to take their place, and the clams were kept steaming.
After a time, Merriwell announced that the clams must be nearly done. He sent Hans off to the yacht to bring Browning ashore. The Dutch boy found it difficult to arouse the big Yale man, but Browning was fond of clams, and he came along quickly enough once he was fully awake and understood what awaited him.
As the boat reached shore, Merriwell began to rake the rocks off the seaweed.
"Ye gods!" grunted Bruce, sniffing the air as he approached. "What heavenly aroma is this that greets my nostrils?"
When the clams were uncovered and he saw them with their huge shells yawning and the meat within looking white and tempting, he declared he was very happy to be living.
"Gather round, fellows," said Frank, "Capture your clams and devour them. There will be no ceremony in this case."
Then, as Browning fished out a clam and held it triumphantly aloft, a man came whistling softly down the bank, joined the group without a word, raked out a clam and extracted it from the shell, being the first to taste the feast Frank had prepared.
It was the man in gray, Mr. Caleb Cooler!
"Yum!" exclaimed the man in gray. "That clam is hot!"
"Well, you are cool enough!" said Frank Merriwell.
"Oh, I'm Cooler," chuckled the queer old fellow. "Told you so some time ago. Howdy, boys. Fine day, isn't it? Think we will have some more weather? Or don't you know 'weather' we will or not?"
Bruce Browning arose to his feet and removed his coat.
"That's one way to keep cool at a clambake," grinned the man in gray. "What are you going to do?"
"Mop up the beach with you," answered Browning, quietly. "I am going to teach you a lesson."
"Teach is correct as you applied it," said Mr. Cooler. "Down this way I find people say 'learn' for 'teach.' Just think how bad it would have sounded had you said you were going to learn me a lesson."
He raked out another clam, but dropped it, shaking his hand and blowing on his fingers.
"Even though I am Cooler, I find some things are warm enough," he murmured. "That clam must have been near a fire. I dote on clams, baked, boiled, fried or frizzled, it don't make a dern bit of difference. Whenever I get an opportunity I go gunning for clams myself. I think it is great sport to shoot a clam on the wing. With a good bird gun and a dog, I presume it is an easy thing to bag clams around here?"
He was not paying the least attention to the big Yale man, and Browning's threat to "wipe up the beach" with him seemed forgotten.
Hans was glaring at the man in gray, while strange, gurgling sounds came from his throat. All at once he gave a yell, rolled over backward and scrambled to his feet.
"Don't touch him, Pruce!" warned the Dutch boy. "I peen goin' to smash dot veller myseluf!"
"Ah there, Irish," chirped Mr. Cooler. "You will catch cold in your liver if you let the wind blow down your throat that way. Have a clam and let it stop that orifice in your countenance."
This made Hans so angry that he danced wildly and began to choke and gurgle in his endeavor to shriek forth something, but the man in gray did not even look at him.
There was something extremely ludicrous about it all, and Frank was forced to laugh. When he saw Merry laughing, Hans seemed to lose all his strength, and hedropped down on a rock, completely knocked out, even though he had not been touched.
Browning was grinning now, for he saw the humor of the situation, and he could not help admiring the nerve of the queer old fellow.
"Look here, Mr. Cooler," said Frank, "who invited you to help yourself?"
"Eh? Oh, why, I didn't need an invitation to join old friends like you chaps. I knew you would be glad to see me."
"We are," grunted Browning, "tickled to death."
"Then sit right up and take hold, boys," chuckled Mr. Cooler. "Catch your clam and peel him. We'll have a real jolly time."
He raked another one off the seaweed.
"How did you get here?" asked Merry.
"I didn't walk, because I couldn't. Had to hire a fellow to bring me down, and then he didn't want to get near enough to the island to set me ashore. Wanted me to swim. Charged me five dollars, too. Never mind; the company will have to pay it."
"What company?"
"Why, the company I represent."
"But what company do you represent?"
"The greatest land improvement and development company on earth. You must know the one I mean, for it is the only one. It is the Bay Islands Land Company. The Eastern Bay Land Company has sprouted in competition to us, but we purpose to nip the rival concern in the bud. I am here to investigate such islands as may eventually become summer resorts and obtain options on them when I can get at the real owners. That's one great difficulty—to find the real owners. Some of them do not seem to have any owners, and yet sheep are pastured on them summer and winter. Some of them are owned by thegovernment. Down at Vinal Haven I heard about Devil Island. They said there was some sort of a mystery here. An island with a mystery is certain to be a great attraction for summer visitors. I made a skip for Devil Island to see if it had any attractions beside the mystery. Had hard work getting here. Nobody at Green's Landing seemed to feel like dropping me here, you refused to do so, I couldn't walk. But I didn't get excited. The more difficulties beset my path the cooler I became. I am here, gentlemen, and I'm glad I came. I admire clams. They are fine. I think these clams are the finest I ever tasted. Have some, boys."
Mr. Cooler seemed to regret the time he had spent in talk, for he made a fierce dive at the clams and raked out two of them.
Merriwell's friends all looked at him to see what he would do under the circumstances. Frank was smiling, but there was a look of doubt on his face. For once in his life, he seemed in a quandary. There was something about this little, chuckling, jolly old man that seemed to forbid anyone to do him personal violence. Bruce Browning felt that. He realized that he would feel ashamed of himself if he should give the old fellow a shaking. And it was plain that Cooler could not be frightened away in any ordinary manner. Nothing seemed to alarm him.
"Sit up and eat some clams, fellows," said Frank, quietly. "Let him fill up, and then we'll tie a big bowlder to his neck and sink him out here in the harbor."
"Hum!" coughed the man in gray. "That's right, young man—let me fill my sack with these clams before you put me to soak. Perhaps you had better let me rest a while after that, too, for I never like to take a bath after a full meal. It isn't healthy. The best physicians condemn the practice."
So, with the exception of Hans, they again gathered around the clams and started to enjoy the feast. Hans retired by himself and sat on a flat rock, muttering and looking savage. At times he would shake his fist at the back of the man in gray.
Mr. Cooler seemed to have a remarkable ability to talk and devour clams at the same time. As Browning afterward expressed it, he "talked a blue streak." He told them he was a great traveler, he had been all over the United States, all over the world.
"Why," he said, "in Berlin I appeared at court."
"How much was the fine?" asked Frank, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Young man," exclaimed Cooler, "you astonish me. To look at you, I would not suppose you could be frivolous. I am slightly that way myself. Can't help it; born that way. Always see something humorous in everything. It's better than medicine; it keeps the liver in a healthy condition. Now, clams are hard to digest, but taken in connection with laughter and jollity they digest much better. There is enough sadness in the world if we do not go around with our faces drawn down. Be jolly. That's my motto."
There was something infectious in his light spirits and careless air. Despite themselves the boys found they were growing interested in this queer old fellow.
Frank studied Mr. Cooler carefully. Had he not felt certain that the man was playing a part, he would have enjoyed the old fellow's chatter. But Frank could see beneath the surface, and he was absolutely satisfied that Mr. Cooler was not what he represented himself to be. Frank had never heard of the Bay Islands Land Company; he did not believe there was such a company in existence.
If Cooler was lying, why was he doing so? What washis object in attempting to force himself upon them? Why had he come to the island in such a manner?
Frank had decided that Cooler was a spy and he had been set upon them by the very ones who were so determined to drive them away from that island. In that case, this light-hearted, careless old fellow was connected with a gang of criminals who did not hesitate to do murder in order to conceal their crimes.
Mr. Cooler did not stop eating clams till the last one was devoured, and he disposed of that himself.
"Ah!" he sighed, drawing back and finding a comfortable position, where he could sit with his back resting against a bowlder. "Now, I do feel good! Young gentlemen, I am glad you came. Accept my congratulations on this remarkably successful clambake. You have done a good job; I have done another. My stomach has not been in the best possible condition lately. I've been living at home. My wife cooks. Six months ago she was a magnificent, a celestial cook! Oh, how beautifully she could broil a beefsteak! But, alas! Also alack! She got the bicycle craze; she bought a wheel. Now she is an inveterate scorcher."
He took a pipe out of his pocket and began to fill it, chattering away in a jolly manner as he did so. He seemed inclined to do all the talking.
"Doesn't your jaw get tired at times?" inquired Frank.
"Eh?" came in surprise from the little man. "Why?"
"I should think it would, you talk so much."
"He! he! Ho! ho! Wait a minute. Ha! ha!—knew there was another way to laugh if I could think of it. Jaw get tired? My dear young gentleman, if you had a wife like mine, you would consider it a privilege to talk occasionally. I do not get an opportunity when I am at home. When I get away from home, I make up for lost time. Haw! haw!—came near forgetting that method oflaughing. Don't mind me. I know I am something of a chinning machine, but I am harmless. Why, I wouldn't harm a—a—a lion."
He lighted the pipe and puffed away a few moments, talking a streak while he smoked. Frank was considering the advisability of pinning him down and demanding to know his real reason for being there, when, of a sudden, the little fellow jumped up spryly as a boy, exclaiming:
"This won't do. I must complete my tour of investigation. I must attend to business. I must look the entire island over and be ready to leave when that man comes back for me. Young gentlemen, I thank you for your hospitality. I wish I might stop longer, but, unfortunately, I cannot. So long, so ling, so lung."
Browning made a move, as if to stop the man, but Frank gave a sign to let him go. Mr. Cooler scrambled nimbly up the bank, turned and waved his hand with a flirting motion, and then vanished into the bushes.
"Fellows," spoke Frank, quickly, "I'm going to follow him. I must do it alone. I'm armed. I can take care of myself. But if I do not return in an hour, look for me."
Then he sprang up the bank after the mysterious man in gray.