Frank Merriwell's Cruise Part 33

"Wait a minute."

"Yes, sir," said the red-headed man, squirting a stream of tobacco juice at the stove, which was well plastered with it already, "I have seen the critter, and I know, by huck, it ain't no lie. He's right there on the island, and if he ain't the Old Devil hisself, he's clost relation to him."

"Now, I pull my traps right down past there every day," said an old lobster fisherman, "and I swanny I ain't never seen northing of this here pesky critter. Ef Jeb warn't sech a dinged liar," with a jerk of his thumb toward the red-headed man, "I'd jest go down there myself and spend some time a-huntin' this critter with horns an' hoofs an' glarin'

eyes. I'd find out what sort of a critter it was."

"Oh, yes!" returned the one who had been derisively designated as a liar, "ef you wasn't sech a darn coward, you might do something of the kind, Sile; but you are the biggest coward this side of Long Islan', so the critter down on Devil Island won't git bothered by you none to mention."

This was said with the utmost calmness, the speaker not seeming in the least excited by being called a liar, nor did the man he had designated as a coward do anything more than grunt derisively and remark:

"That's all right, Jeb. Don't n.o.body take no stock in what you say, and, though this yarn about a critter on Devil Island has been goin' abaout a year, I don't know a mortal bein' whose word is wu'th a cod line that ever said he saw the varmint. Whut you're looking for is notyrietiveness, an' that's why ye're tellin' such stuff."

"I know whut I seen, an' I'll swan to man that I did see the Monster of Devil Island, as folks round here call him. I'd been down to York Island in my pinkey, and was tryin' to git back here before night, but the wind died out jest at dark, an' I made up my mind I might as well hang up in Bold Island harbor as to spend half the night gittin' to the landin', an' take a chance of straddlin' a ledge. I got inter the harbor all right, an' kinder thought I'd try ter root out a few clams on Bold Island beach. My old boat laid nearer to the back of Devil Island than it did to Bold Island. I rowed off to Bold Island in my dory, but the tide was comin' in, an' I didn't git no clams to speak of. It was plum dark when I pulled back to the pinkey. Jest as I run alongside, I heered a sound that riz my hair, by huck! It was kinder like a groan and a smothered screech, an' I swan to man if it didn't seem to come right out of my pinkey! Scart! Waal, it did give me something of a jump, an' that I won't deny. If Sile had a-bin there he'd kerwollopsed. I riz right up with an oar in my hand, ready to slam it over ther head uf any dad-b.u.m thing that wiggled round the pinkey. Jest then I heard that sound ag'in, an' I made out it come from the point of rocks that makes off inter ther harber. I looked that way, an' jest then ther consarnedest varmint I ever sot eyes onto riz right up from behind some rocks----"

"There ye go!" cried Sile, triumphantly. "Why, you was jest tellin' it was so dark ye could scarst see to the island! How was you able to see this critter jump up from behind the rocks?"

"If you'll wait till I tell the story, mebbe you'll find out."

"Humph! Go ahead with yer yarn."

"Ez I said, up jumped this critter. His face was all burnin', like fire, and his eyes was just like two black holes. Fellers what have told how his eyes s.h.i.+ned and flashed ain't never seen him, for I'll swan his eyes was jest two black holes in his head. He waved his hands in the air, an'

them hands shone fiery same as his face. Then he let out a screech that might have been heard down to ther Spoon Islands, an' away he went up over the rocks and inter the woods. Say, I ain't easy skeered, but I will admit I was a bit shaky then. I jest got inter the pinkey, pulled ther anchor, then tumbled back inter ther dory an' took ther old pinkey in tow. I wasn't very long gittin' out of Bold Island harbor, neether. I wouldn't 'a' stayed there that night fer a hundred billion dollars! I towed the pinkey clean to the Landin', an' you don't git me round Devil Island ag'in arter dark, by huck!"

"What do you think of that yarn, Browning?" asked Frank, speaking softly into the big fellow's ear.

"Huah!" grunted Bruce. "I think Sile was all right in calling Jeb a liar."

"I have heard that these fishermen are remarkable at drawing the long bow."

"And Jeb is an artist."

Some of those who had listened to the fisherman's story did not accept it with such scorn as the lobster catcher had evinced. There was a sound of excited voices when Jeb had finished, and one young fellow with a hunchback and a cunning face jumped up, crying:

"It ain't no lie, an' I'll swan ter that! I've seen ther old critter on Devil Island myself, though I ain't bin tellin' much about it, fer I knowed every dern critter on Deer Island would call me a thunderin'

liar."

"There, by huck!" cried Jeb. "Now whut do you think of that? You hear whut Put Wiley has to say!"

"Oh, yes, we hear it," drawled Sile, who was calmly filling a black pipe. "But Put allwus was seein' queer things that n.o.body else could see. I s'pose he dreamed that he saw the demon of Devil Island."

"It waren't no dream," fiercely declared the hunchback. "I saw the critter when I was on the island--more'n that, the varmint chased me."

"Hey?" cried several, the excitement increasing.

"I'll swan to it!" declared Put, stanchly.

"When did all this take place?" asked one of the listeners.

"Last Sunday."

"And we never heard of it before? Say, Put, I never knowed you to tell anything crooked, but it's a big yarn you're givin' us now. If all this happened last Sunday, why ain't you told of it afore?"

"In the fust place, 'cause I was darn scart. In the second place, 'cause I knowed everybody'd think I was lyin'."

"How did you happen to be down there on Devil Island Sunday?"

"Last time Jerry Peg was in Bold Island harbor he said he saw a partridge fly up on the sh.o.r.e of Devil Island. He went ash.o.r.e an' tried to shoot her. He didn't shoot her, but he said he scart up six or eight others in the thick woods. He come away without gittin' one of them.

Sunday I didn't have northing to do, so I loaded up my old gun and rowed over to Devil Island. Didn't git there till three in the afternoon.

Beached my dory an' hitched the painter to a tree. Wisht I hedn't hitched her arterward. Took out my old gun and went up inter ther spruces. Tramped round to ther old stone quarry one way, but didn't see northing. Turned and tramped clean roun' to t'other end of the island.

Scart up two partridges and fired at 'em both. Knocked down the second one. Then I chased t'other, scarin' him up and scarin' him up, but never gittin' him, though I fired at him twict. I was mad. Said I'd stay right there an' hunt that dern partridge till ther Eastern Bay froze over, but I'd git the thing. Arter a while I couldn't fin' him at all, but I kept prowlin' round in the woods till it was beginnin' to git dark. I heard somethin' like a rustlin' under some cedars and saw somethin' move. Then I ups and fires. When I done that there was a yell that might have been heard clean down to ther Hosses. Out of them cedars came a critter that I swan was the old devil him own self! He had horns, an' he had a fiery face and hands, an' he had black holes fer eyes, jest as Jeb told it, and he had a red-hot spear of iron in his hand. He run at me to stick that spear inter me. I know he was goin' to spear me and then kerry me down below fer shootin' partridges Sunday. He waren't more'n six feet of me when I poked out my old gun an' fired the second barrel right inter his face and eyes. It never bothered him a bit. Run? Why, I flew! Never kivered ground so fast before, an' I never 'spect to ag'in. I bet sometimes I jumped as much as fifteen feet to a leap."

The speaker took out a dirty handkerchief and mopped the big drops of perspiration off his face. He was shaking with excitement, and his eyes gleamed. He showed every symptom of extreme terror as he related the story, and it seemed plain enough that he believed every word he was uttering.

"Go on!" cried several.

"I don't know how I ever got away," said the hunchback, huskily. "I do know that monster was chasin' me right through the woods, tryin' to ram his spear inter my back as if I was a flounder an' he was arter lobster bait. I managed to hold onter my old gun, though at the time I didn't know I was a-doin' of it. If I hed stopped ter think, I'd throwed the gun erway. When I came out ter ther bank nigh ter whar my dory was. .h.i.tched, I made a jump that took me clean from ther top to ther bottom.

It seems as if right when I was in ther air I thought how that bo't was tied with her painter, an' I rammed my hand inter my pocket fer my knife. When I got ter ther boat I had the knife in my hand. I flung ther gun in an' yanked open ther knife jest as ther critter came down over ther bank arter me, an' he sailed down where I had jumped. I saw him do it, and I know he spread out some red things like wings. I don't say they was wings, but they looked like wings. I yanked open my knife and I cut the painter. The tide was in, and the dory was afloat, which was a good thing fer me, for when I jumped in I gave her a shove that sent her away from the sh.o.r.e. I got ther oars inter ther water and pulled. The critter didn't chase me any arter it reached the edge of the water."

Again the excited speaker wiped his face with the soiled handkerchief, and then he sat down in a chair, as if the remembrance of the adventure had taken all the strength out of him. He was shaking all over.

Frank Merriwell and Bruce Browning looked at each other.

"How is that for a vivid imagination?" grunted the big fellow.

"It's pretty good, but he seems to believe it himself," said Frank.

"He does act that way," confessed Bruce.

"I am getting interested," declared Frank. "When I get a chance, I shall visit Devil Island."

"Where is it?"

"Not far from here, if I remember right."

"If I thought there was anything down there worth seeing, I wouldn't mind going myself," said the big Yale man; "but these fishermen are such confounded liars that you can't tell."

Those who had been listening to the story were urging the hunchback to tell some more. After a little time, he stopped wiping his face and said:

"That's all. The critter turned tail and disappeared, while I nigh pulled my arms out gittin' away. Anybody that wants to can go nosin'

round Devil Island, but Put Wiley will keep away. Next time the critter'd git me sure."

"Now, whut do ye think of that, Sile Collins?" cried Jeb, triumphantly.

"If I'm a liar, I ain't ther only one on Deer Island."

"Humph!" grunted Sile. "Let a yarn like this git started, an' half the folks that go near Devil Island will see this ere critter. Some folks is great at seein' such things."

But his appearance of ridicule did not disguise the fact that he had been impressed by the story of the hunchback.