BURT L. STANDISH Ultimate Collection: 24 Action Thrillers in One Volume (Illustrated) - Burt L. Standish

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was fairly high and dry.

      "We'll stop there," decided Frank. "It's not likely we'll find another place like that anywhere in the Everglades."

      As they came nearer, they saw the trees seemed to be growing on an island, for the water course divided and ran on either side of them.

      "Just the place for a camp!" cried Frank, delightedly. "This is really a very interesting and amusing adventure."

      "It may be for you," groaned the professor; "but you forget that it is said to be possible for persons to lose themselves in the Everglades and never find their way out."

      "On the contrary, I remember it quite well. In fact, it is said that, without a guide, the chances of finding a way out of the Everglades is small, indeed."

      "Well, what do you feel so exuberant about?"

      "Why, the possibility that we'll all perish in the Everglades adds zest to this adventure—makes it really interesting."

      "Frank, you're a puzzle to me. You are cautious about running into danger of any sort, but, once in it, you seem to take a strange and unaccountable delight in the peril. The greater the danger, the happier you seem to feel."

      "Thot's roight," nodded Barney.

      "When I am not in danger, my good judgment tells me to take no chances; but when I get into it fairly, I know the only thing to be done is to make the best of it. I delight in adventure—I was born for it!"

      A dismal sound came from the professor's throat.

      "When your uncle died," said Scotch, "I thought him my friend. Although we had quarreled, I fancied the hatchet was buried. He made me your guardian, and I still believed he had died with nothing but friendly feelings toward me. But he knew you, and now I believe it was an act of malice toward me when he made me your guardian. And, to add to my sufferings, he decreed that I should travel with you. Asher Dow Merriwell deliberately plotted against my life! He knew the sort of a career you would lead me, and he died chuckling in contemplation of the misery and suffering you would inflict upon me! That man was a monster—an inhuman wretch!"

      "Look there!" cried Barney, pointing toward the small, timbered island.

      "What is it?"

      "May Ould Nick floy away wid me av it ain't a house!"

      CHAPTER XXVIII.

       THE HUT ON THE ISLAND

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      "A house?"

      "A cabin!"

      "A hut amid the trays."

      In a little clearing on some rising ground amid the trees they could see the hut.

      "Is it possible any one lives here?" exclaimed the professor.

      "It looks as if some one stops here at times, at least," said Frank.

      "Av this ain't a clear case av luck, Oi dunno mesilf!"

      "We'll get the man who lives there to guide us out of the Everglades!" shouted the professor, in a relieved tone.

      Then Frank cast a gloom over their spirits by saying:

      "This may be a hunter's cabin, inhabited only at certain seasons of the year. Ten to one, there's no one living in it now."

      "You'd be pleased if there wasn't!" almost snarled Professor Scotch. "You're a boy without a heart!"

      Frank laughed softly.

      "We'll soon find out if there's any one at home," he said, as the canoe ran up to the bank, and he took care to get out first.

      As soon as Frank was out, the professor made a scramble to follow him. He rose to his feet, despite Barney's warning cry, and, a moment later, the cranky craft flipped bottom upward, with the swiftness of a flash of lightning.

      The professor and the Irish lad disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

      Barney's head popped up in a moment, and he stood upon his feet, with the water to his waist, uttering some very vigorous words.

      Up came the professor, open flew his mouth, out spurted a stream of water, and then he wildly roared:

      "Help! Save me! I can't swim! I'm drowning!"

      Before either of the boys could say a word, he went under again.

      "This is th' firrust toime Oi iver saw a man thot wanted to drown in thray fate av wather," said Barney.

      Frank sat down on the dry ground, and shouted with laughter.

      Up popped the professor a second time.

      "Help!" he bellowed, after he had spurted another big stream of water from his mouth. "Will you see me perish before your very eyes? Save me, Frank!"

      But Frank was laughing so heartily that he could not say a word, and the little man went down once more.

      "Hivins! he really manes to drown!" said Barney, in disgust.

      "Grab him!" gasped Frank. "Don't let him go down again. Oh, my! what a scrape! This beats our record!"

      For the third time the professor's head appeared above the surface, and the professor's voice weakly called:

      "Will no one save me? This is a plot to get me out of the way! Oh, Frank, Frank! I never thought this of you! Farewell! May you be happy when I am gone!"

      "Stand up!" shouted Frank, seeing that the little man had actually resigned himself to drown. "Get your feet under you. The water is shallow there."

      The professor stood up, and an expression of pain, surprise, and disgust settled on his face, as he thickly muttered:

      "May I be kicked! And I've been under the water two-thirds of the time for the last hour! I've swallowed more than two barrels of this swamp-water, including, in all probability, a few dozen pollywogs, lizards, young alligators, and other delightful things! If the water wasn't so blamed dirty here, and I wasn't afraid of swallowing enough creatures to start an aquarium, I'd just lie down and refuse to make another effort to get up."

      Then he waded out, the look on his face causing Frank to double up with merriment, while even the wretched Barney smiled.

      Barney would have waded out, but Frank said:

      "Don't attempt to land without those guns, old man. They're somewhere on the bottom, and we want them."

      So Barney was forced to plunge under the surface and feel around till he had fished up the rifles and the shotgun.

      Frank had taken care of his bow and arrows, the latter being in a quiver at his back, and the paddles had not floated away.

      After a time, everything was recovered, the canoe was drawn out and tipped bottom upward, and the trio moved toward the cabin, Frank leading, and the professor staggering along behind.

      Reaching the cabin, Frank rapped loudly on the door.

      No answer.

      Once more he knocked, and then, as there was no reply, he pushed the door open, and entered.

      The cabin was not occupied by any living being, but a glance showed the trio that some one had been there not many hours before, for the embers of a fire still glowed dimly on the open hearth of flat stones.

      There were two rooms, the door between them being open, so the little party could look into the second.

      The first room seemed to be the principal room of the hut, while the other was a bedroom. They could see the bed through the open doorway.

      There were chairs, a table, a couch, and other things, for the most part rude, home-made stuff, and still every piece showed that the person who constructed it had skill and taste.

      Around the walls were hung various

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