CHAPTER XXIX.
A WILD NIGHT IN THE SWAMP.
Clang! clang! clang!
"Fire!"
"Turn out!"
The boys leaped to their feet, and the professor came tearing out of thebedroom, ran into the table, which he overturned with a great clatter ofdishes, reeled backward, and sat down heavily on the floor, where herubbed his eyes, and muttered:
"I thought that fire engine was going to run me down before I could getout of the way."
"Fire engine!" cried Frank Merriwell. "Who ever heard of a fire enginein the heart of the Florida Everglades?"
"Oi herrud th' gong," declared Barney.
"So did I," asserted the professor.
"I heard something that sounded like a fire gong," admitted Frank.
"Pwhat was it, Oi dunno?"
"It seemed to come from beneath the head of the bed in there," saidScotch.
"An' Oi thought I herrud it under me couch out here," gurgled Barney.
"We will light a candle, and look around," said Frank.
A candle was lighted, and they looked for the cause of the midnightalarm, but they found nothing that explained the mystery.
"Whist!" hissed the Irish boy. "It's afther gettin' away from here we'dbetter be, mark me worrud."
"What makes you think that?" demanded Frank, sharply.
"It's spooks there be around this place, ur Oi'm mistaken!"
"Oh, I've heard enough about spooks! It's getting tiresome."
The professor was silent, but he shook his head in a very mysteriousmanner, as if he thought a great many things he did not care to speakabout.
They had been thoroughly awakened, but, after a time, failing todiscover what had aroused them, they decided to return to bed.
Five minutes after they lay down, Frank and the professor were broughtto their feet by a wild howl and a thud. They rushed out of the bedroom,and nearly fell over Barney, who was lying in the middle of the floor,at least eight feet from the couch.
"What is the matter with you?" cried Frank, astonished.
"Oi was touched!" palpitated the Irish lad, thickly.
"Touched?"
"Thot's pwhat!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Oi wur jist beginning to get slapy whin something grabbed me an' threwme clan out here in th' middle av th' room."
"Oh, say! what are you trying to make us believe!"
"Oi'll swear to it, Frankie--Oi'll swear on a stack av Boibles."
"You dreamed it, Barney; that's what's the matter."
"Nivver a drame, me b'y, fer Oi wasn't aslape at all, at all."
"But you may have been asleep, for you say you were beginning to getsleepy. There isn't anything here to grab you."
"Oi dunno about thot, Frankie. Oi'm incloined to belave th' Ould B'y'saround, so Oi am."
"Oh, this is tiresome! Go back to bed, and keep still."
"Nivver a bit will Oi troy to slape on thot couch again th' noight, meb'y. Oi'll shtay roight here on th' flure."
"Sleep where you like, but keep still. That's all."
Frank was somewhat nettled by these frequent interruptions of his rest,and he was more than tempted to give Barney cause to believe the hut wasreally haunted, for he was an expert ventriloquist, and he could haveindulged in a great deal of sport with the Irish boy.
But other things were soon to take up their attention. While they weretalking a strange humming arose on every side and seemed to fill theentire hut. At first, it was like a swarm of bees, but it grew louderand louder till it threatened to swell into a roar.
Professor Scotch was nearly frightened out of his wits.
"It is the end of everything!" he shrieked, making a wild dash for thedoor, which he flung wide open.
But the professor did not rush out of the cabin. Instead, he flung uphis hands, staggered backward, and nearly fell to the floor.
"The white canoe!" he faintly gasped, clutching at empty air forsupport.
Frank sprang forward, catching and steadying the professor.
"The white canoe--where?"
"Out there!"
Sure enough, on the dark surface of the water, directly in front of thehut, lay the mysterious canoe.
And now this singular craft was illuminated from stem to stern by asoft, white light that showed its outlines plainly.
"Sint Patherick presarve us!" panted Barney Mulloy.
"I am getting tired of being chased around by a canoe!" said Frank, indisgust, as he hastily sought one of the rifles.
"Don't shoot!" entreated the professor, in great alarm.
"Av yer do, our goose is cooked!" fluttered Barney.
Frank threw a fresh cartridge into the rifle, and turned toward the opendoor, his mind fully made up.
And then, to the profound amazement of all three, seated in the canoethere seemed to be an old man, with white hair and long, white beard.The soft, white light seemed to come from every part of his person, asit came from the canoe.
Frank Merriwell paused, with the rifle partly lifted.
"It's th' spook himsilf!" gasped Barney, covering his face with hishands, and clinging to the professor.
"That's right!" faintly said Scotch. "For mercy's sake, don't shoot,Frank! We're lost if you do!"
Frank was startled and astonished, but he was determined not to lose hisnerve, no matter what happened.
The man in the canoe seemed to be looking directly toward the cabin. Heslowly lifted one hand, and pointed away across the Everglades, at thesame time motioning with the other hand, as if for them to go in thatdirection.
"I'll just send a bullet over his head, to see what he thinks of it,"said Frank, softly, lifting the rifle.
Then another startling thing happened.
Canoe and man disappeared in the twinkling of an eye!
The trio in the hut gasped and rubbed their eyes.
"Gone!" cried Frank.
"Vanished!" panted the professor.
"An' now Oi suppose ye'll say it wur no ghost?" gurgled Barney.
It was extremely dark beneath the shadow of the cypress trees, and not asign of the mysterious canoe could they see.
"It is evident he did not care to have me send a bullet whizzing pasthis ears," laughed Frank, who did not seem in the least disturbed.
"What are your nerves made of?" demanded Professor Scotch, in a shakingtone of voice. "They must be iron!"
"Hark!"
Frank's hand fell on the professor's arm, and the three listenedintently, hearing something that gave them no little surprise.
From far away through the night came the sound of hoarse voices singinga wild, doleful song.
"Hamlet's ghost!" ejaculated the professor.
"Pwhat the Ould Nick does thot mane?" cried Barney.
"Hark!" Frank again cautioned. "Let's see if we can understand the wordsthey are singing. Be still."
"We sailed away from Gloucester Bay, And the wind was in the west, yo ho! And her cargo was some New England rum; Our grog it was made of the best, yo ho!"
"A sailor's song," decided Frank, "and those are sailors who aresinging. We are not alone in the Everglades."
"They're all drunk," declared the professor. "You can tell that by thesound of their voices. Drunken men are dangerous."
"They're a blamed soight betther than none, fer it's loikely they knowth' way out av this blissed swamp," said Barney.
"They may bub-bub-be pup-pup-pup-pirates!" chattered the professor.
"What sticks me," said Frank, "is how a party of sailors ever made theirway in here, for we are miles upon miles from the coast. Here is anothermystery."
"Are ye fer takin' a look at th' loikes av thim, Frankie?"
"Certainly, and that without delay. Come, professor."
"Never!"
"What do you mean?"
"I am not going near those ruffianly and bloodthirsty pirates."
"Then you may stay here with the spooks, while Barney and I go."
Frank loaded the rifles and the shotgun, and took along his bow andarrows, even though Barney made sport of him for bothering with thelast.
They slipped the canoe into the water, and, directed by Frank, theprofessor succeeded in getting in without upsetting the frail affair.
"Oi hope we won't run inther the ghost," uttered the Irish boy.
"The sound of that singing comes from the direction in which the old manseemed to point," said Frank.
This was true, as they all remembered.
The singing continued, sometimes sinking to a low, droning sound,sometimes rising to a wild wail that sounded weirdly over the marshland.
"Ready," said Frank, and the canoe slipped silently over the darksurface of the water course.
The singing ceased after a time, but they were still guided by the soundof wrangling voices.
"They are quarreling!" exclaimed Frank, softly.
"This is tut-tut-terrible!" stuttered the professor.
Suddenly the sound of a pistol shot came over the rushes, followed by afeminine shriek of pain or terror!
Frank Merriwell Down South Page 29