his object in attempting to force himself upon them? Why had he come to the island in such a manner?
Frank had decided that Cooler was a spy and he had been set upon them by the very ones who were so determined to drive them away from that island. In that case, this light-hearted, careless old fellow was connected with a gang of criminals who did not hesitate to do murder in order to conceal their crimes.
Mr. Cooler did not stop eating clams till the last one was devoured, and he disposed of that himself.
"Ah!" he sighed, drawing back and finding a comfortable position, where he could sit with his back resting against a bowlder. "Now, I do feel good! Young gentlemen, I am glad you came. Accept my congratulations on this remarkably successful clambake. You have done a good job; I have done another. My stomach has not been in the best possible condition lately. I've been living at home. My wife cooks. Six months ago she was a magnificent, a celestial cook! Oh, how beautifully she could broil a beefsteak! But, alas! Also alack! She got the bicycle craze; she bought a wheel. Now she is an inveterate scorcher."
He took a pipe out of his pocket and began to fill it, chattering away in a jolly manner as he did so. He seemed inclined to do all the talking.
"Doesn't your jaw get tired at times?" inquired Frank.
"Eh?" came in surprise from the little man. "Why?"
"I should think it would, you talk so much."
"He! he! Ho! ho! Wait a minute. Ha! ha!—knew there was another way to laugh if I could think of it. Jaw get tired? My dear young gentleman, if you had a wife like mine, you would consider it a privilege to talk occasionally. I do not get an opportunity when I am at home. When I get away from home, I make up for lost time. Haw! haw!—came near forgetting that method of
laughing. Don't mind me. I know I am something of a chinning machine, but I am harmless. Why, I wouldn't harm a—a—a lion."