Frank Merriwell Down South Part 46

But the afternoon was well advanced, and night was much nearer than they had thought, as they were soon to discover.

At last, Barney cried:

"Oi see loight enough ahead! We must be near out av th' woods."

Frank said nothing. For a long time he had been certain they were on the wrong course, but he hoped it would bring them out somewhere. He had noted the light that indicated they were soon to reach the termination of the cypress swamp, but he held his enthusiasm in check till he could be sure they had come out somewhere near where they had entered the dismal region.

Professor Scotch grew enthusiastic immediately.

"Ha!" he cried, punching Frank in the back. "What do you think now, young man? Do you mean to say that we don't know our business? What if we had accepted your way of getting out of the swamp! We'd been in there now, sir."

"Don't crow till you're out of the woods," advised Frank.

"Begobs! Oi belave he'd be plazed av we didn't get out at all, at all!"

exclaimed Barney, somewhat touched.

In a short time they came to the termination of the cypress woods, but, to the surprise of Barney and the professor, the swamp, overgrown with tall rushes and reed-gra.s.s, continued, with the water course winding away through it.

"Pwhat th' ould boy does this mane?" cried the Irish lad.

"It means," said Frank, coolly, "that we have reached the Everglades."

"Th' Ivirglades? Well, pwhat do we want iv thim, Oi dunno?"

"They are one of the sights of Florida, Barney."

"It's soights enough I've seen alreddy. Oi'd loike ter git out av this."

"I knew you wouldn't get out this way, for we have not pa.s.sed the rookeries of the herons, as you must remember."

"That's true," sighed the professor, dejectedly. "I hadn't thought of that. What can we do, boys?"

"Turn about, and retrace our steps," said Frank.

But Barney and the professor raised a vigorous protest.

"Nivver a bit will yez get me inther thot swamp again th' doay!" shouted the Irish lad, in a most decisive manner.

"If we go back, we'll not be able to get out before darkness comes on, and we'll have to spend the night in the swamp," said Scotch, excitedly.

"I can't do that."

"Well, what do you propose to do?" asked Frank, quietly. "I don't seem to have anything to say in this matter. You are running it to suit yourselves."

They were undecided, but one thing was certain; they would not go back into the swamp. The white canoe was there, and the professor and the Irish lad did not care to see that again.

"Whoy not go on, Frankie?" asked Barney. "We're out av th' woods, an', by follyin' this strame, we ought to get out av th' Iverglades."

"What do you say, professor?" asked Frank, who was rather enjoying the adventure, although he did not fancy the idea of spending a night on the marsh.

"Go on--by all means, go on!" roared the little man.

"Go on, it is, then. We'll proceed to explore the Everglades in company with Professor Scotch, the noted scientist and daring adventurer. Go ahead!"

So they pushed onward into the Everglades, while the sun sank lower and lower, finally dropping beneath the horizon.

Night was coming on, and they were in the heart of the Florida Everglades!

The situation was far from pleasant.

Barney and the professor fell to growling at each other, and they kept it up while Frank smiled and remained silent.

At length, Scotch took in his paddle in disgust, groaning:

"We're lost!"

"I am inclined to think so myself," admitted Frank, cheerfully.

"Well, who's to blame, Oi'd loike to know?" cried the Irish lad.

"You are!" roared the professor, like a wounded lion.

"G'wan wid yez!" exploded Barney. "It's yersilf thot is to blame!

Frankie wanted to go the other woay, but ye said no."

"Me! me! me!" howled the professor. "Did I? You were the one! You insisted that this was the proper course to pursue! You are to blame for it all!"

"Profissor, ye're a little oulder thin Oi be, but av ye wur nigh me age, Oi'd inform ye thot ye didn't know how to spake th' truth."

"Do you mean to call me a liar, you impudent young rascal?"

"Not now, profissor; but I would av ye wur younger."

"It's all the same! It's an insult, sir!"

"Well, pwhat are yez goin' to do about it?"

"I'll make you swallow the words, you scoundrel!"

"Well, thot would be more av a male thin the rist av ye are loikely to get th' noight, so it is!"

"Come, come," laughed Frank; "this is no time nor place to quarrel."

"You're right, Frank; but this ungrateful young villain makes me very tired!"

"Careful, professor--slang."

"Excuse me, but you know human beings are influenced by their surroundings and a.s.sociates. If I have----"

"Professor!" cried Frank, reproachfully. "You would not accuse me of having taught you to use slang?"