Alvin and Chester had told the guest of the doings of the nuisances, and there was laughter at their panic when, looking over the side of the canoe, they saw the frightful head of the sea serpent, apparently in the act of rising up to crush the boat or them in its jaws.
“I can’t understand why they persist in staying in these parts, after the hints they have received,” said the doctor.
“Can they have any special design in view?” asked Burton.
“I have thought of that, but can’t imagine what it is. All such pests are thieves, but that is the worst that can be said of them. There is nothing in my home that is specially tempting; they know I have a gun and a revolver,—and that I am quite ready to use it if they give good cause. Yet when I kill a man,” added the doctor with a grim smile, “I prefer to put him out of the way in my professional capacity. There are no unpleasant consequences to myself.”
“Couldn’t one of the spalpeens be ill?” suggested Mike. “He may be trying to screw up his courage to the p’int of asking ye for a prescription.”
“He will find me ready, and I’ll charge him no fee.”
At this moment, the physician supplemented his words by a remark which, in the light of after events, was singular to the last degree.
“George, I have arranged a system of signals with my young friends here.”
“I don’t catch your meaning.”
“When young Jack Crandall broke his leg some time ago, there was no telling what complications would follow. It was therefore agreed that in case I was needed in a hurry, some of the Boy Scouts should fire one of their revolvers several times in quick succession. Then I would paddle to the bungalow as fast as I could.”