"Oi think it's a foine plan to be gettin' out av this," muttered Barney, in an agitated tone of voice.
"Steady, there, professor," called Frank, sharply. "What do you want to do—drown us all? Keep cool."
"It's coming!" fluttered the little man, wildly.
"Let it come. As long as we could not overtake it, let it overtake us. That is a very good scheme."
"Th' skame won't worruck, me b'y. Th' ould thing's shtopped."
It was true; the white canoe had stopped, and was lying calmly on the inky surface of the shadowed water.
"Well, I can't say that I like this," said Frank.
"And I scarcely think I like it more than you do," came from the professor.
"An' th' both av yez loike it as well as mesilf," put in the Irish youth.
"What are we to do?"