"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.