"How did you get here?" asked Merry.
"I didn't walk, because I couldn't. Had to hire a fellow to bring me down, and then he didn't want to get near enough to the island to set me ashore. Wanted me to swim. Charged me five dollars, too. Never mind; the company will have to pay it."
"What company?"
"Why, the company I represent."
"But what company do you represent?"
"The greatest land improvement and development company on earth. You must know the one I mean, for it is the only one. It is the Bay Islands Land Company. The Eastern Bay Land Company has sprouted in competition to us, but we purpose to nip the rival concern in the bud. I am here to investigate such islands as may eventually become summer resorts and obtain options on them when I can get at the real owners. That's one great difficulty—to find the real owners. Some of them do not seem to have any owners, and yet sheep are pastured on them summer and winter. Some of them are owned by the
government. Down at Vinal Haven I heard about Devil Island. They said there was some sort of a mystery here. An island with a mystery is certain to be a great attraction for summer visitors. I made a skip for Devil Island to see if it had any attractions beside the mystery. Had hard work getting here. Nobody at Green's Landing seemed to feel like dropping me here, you refused to do so, I couldn't walk. But I didn't get excited. The more difficulties beset my path the cooler I became. I am here, gentlemen, and I'm glad I came. I admire clams. They are fine. I think these clams are the finest I ever tasted. Have some, boys."
Mr. Cooler seemed to regret the time he had spent in talk, for he made a fierce dive at the clams and raked out two of them.
Merriwell's friends all looked at him to see what he would do under the circumstances. Frank was smiling, but there was a look of doubt on his face. For once in his life, he seemed in a quandary. There was something about this little, chuckling, jolly old man that seemed to forbid anyone to do him personal violence. Bruce Browning felt that. He realized that he would feel ashamed of himself if he should give the old fellow a shaking. And it was plain that Cooler could not be frightened away in any ordinary manner. Nothing seemed to alarm him.
"Sit up and eat some clams, fellows," said Frank, quietly. "Let him fill up, and then we'll tie a big bowlder to his neck and sink him out here in the harbor."