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 the hut, lay the mysterious canoe.
And now this singular craft was illuminated from stem to stern by a soft, 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, in disgust, 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 open door, his mind fully made up.