Frank Merriwell's Cruise Part 47

"So that scoundrel has dared venture into Green's Landing 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 pa.s.sengers."

"I am not pa.s.sengers. I am simply a pa.s.senger. 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 is as 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 ash.o.r.e. 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 ash.o.r.e immediately, or he will have to swim ash.o.r.e, for I shall throw him overboard if he boards the _White Wings_ again."

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 der _Vite Vings_ you hat petter stayed ash.o.r.e."

"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 p.o.r.n 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 ash.o.r.e."

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: