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 the White 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. He came 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'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 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 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 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 to swim ashore, 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 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 the White Wings was 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.