Frank Merriwell's Cruise Part 50

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 sh.e.l.l, 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 he dropped 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 ash.o.r.e. 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 compet.i.tion 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 the government. 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. n.o.body 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 circ.u.mstances. 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 was his 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?"