"See that infernal canoe?" cried the professor, pointing at the mystic craft. "It has stopped out there in the shadows."
"And seems to be waiting for us to pursue again."
"That's what it's doing."
"I'm ready!" exclaimed Frank.
"I am not," decisively declared Professor Scotch.
"Nayther am Oi!" almost shouted the Irish youth. "It's enough av this koind av business Oi've been in!"
"We'll turn about," said Scotch, grimly. "That canoe will lure us into this dismal swamp so far that we'll never find our way out. We'll turn about at once."
Frank laughed.
"All right," he said. "I suppose I'll have to give up, but I do dislike to leave without solving the mystery of that canoe."
"It may be thot we're so far in thot we can't foind our way out at all, at all," said the Irish lad.
"I'm afraid we'll not be able to get out before nightfall," confessed the professor. "I have no fancy for spending a night in this swamp."
Barney promptly expressed his dislike for such an adventure, but Frank was silent.
The canoe turned about, and they set about the task of retracing the water courses by which they had come far into the swamp.
It was not long before they came to a place where the courses divided. Frank was for following one, while both Barney and the professor insisted that the other was the right way.
Finally, Frank gave in to them, although it was against his better judgment, and he felt that he should not submit.
They had not proceeded far before, as they were passing round a bend, a cry of astonishment fell from Barney's lips.
"Howly shmoke!" he shouted. "Thot bates th' band!"
"What's the matter?" asked Frank and the professor, together.
"Thot whoite canoe!"
"What of it?"
"Look back! Th' thing is afther follying av us!"
They looked back, and, sure enough, there was the mysterious canoe, gliding after them, like a most uncanny thing!
"Well, I like that!" said Frank, in a tone that plainly indicated he did not like it. "This is very pleasant!"
"Pull, pull!" throbbed the professor, splashing his paddle into the water and very nearly upsetting them all. "Don't let the thing overtake us! Pull, pull!"
"Oi think it's a foine plan to be gettin' out av this," muttered Barney, in an agitated tone of voice.
"Steady, there, professor," called Frank, sharply. "What do you want to do—drown us all? Keep cool."
"It's coming!" fluttered the little man, wildly.
"Let it come. As long as we could not overtake it, let it overtake us. That is a very good scheme."
"Th' skame won't worruck, me b'y. Th' ould thing's shtopped."
It was true; the white canoe had stopped, and was lying calmly on the inky surface of the shadowed water.
"Well, I can't say that I like this," said Frank.
"And I scarcely think I like it more than you do," came from the professor.
"An' th' both av yez loike it as well as mesilf," put in the Irish youth.
"What are we to do?"
"Go on."
Go on they did, but the white canoe still followed, keeping at a distance.
"I can't stand this," declared Frank, as he picked up a rifle from the bottom of the canoe. "I wonder how lead will work on her?"
"Pwhat are yez goin' to do, me b'y?" cried Barney, in alarm.
"Shoot a few holes in that craft," was the deliberate answer. "Swing to the left, so that I may have a good chance."
"Don't shoot!" palpitated the professor.
"Don't shoot!" gurgled Barney.
"What is the matter with you?" demanded Frank, sharply. "You both appear like frightened children!"
"No telling what'll come of it if you shoot."
"I'll simply put a few holes through that canoe."
"It may be the destruction of us!"
"It may sind us all to glory by th' farrust express."
"Nonsense! Don't be foolish! Swing her to the left, I say. I am going to shoot, and that settles it."
It was useless for them to urge him not to fire; he was determined, and nothing they could say would change his mind. The canoe drifted round to the left, and the rifle rose to Frank's shoulder.
Spang! The clear report rang out and echoed through the cypress forest.
The bullet tore through the white canoe, and the weird craft seemed to give a leap, like a wounded creature.
"Hit it!" cried Frank, triumphantly.
"Hit it!" echoed the professor, quivering with terror.
"Hit it!" groaned Barney Mulloy, his face white and his eyes staring. "May all the saints defind us!"
"Look!" shouted Frank. "She is turning about—she is going to leave us! But I'll put another bullet through her!"
Up the rifle came, but, just as he pressed the trigger, Professor Scotch pushed the weapon to one side, so the bullet did not pass within twenty feet of the white canoe.
"Why did you do that?" demanded Frank, angrily.
"I couldn't see you shoot into that canoe again," faltered the agitated professor. "It was too much—too much!"
"What do you mean by that?"
Professor Scotch shook his head. He could not explain, and he was ashamed of his agitation and fears.
"Well, you fellows lay over anything I ever went up against!" said Frank, in disgust. "I didn't suppose you could be so thoroughly childish."
"All right, Frank," came humbly from the professor's lips. "I can't help it, and I haven't a word to say."
"But I will take one more shot at that canoe!" vowed Frank.
"Not this day," chuckled Barney Mulloy. "She's gone!"
It was true. The mysterious canoe had vanished from view while they were speaking.
CHAPTER XXVII.
IN THE EVERGLADES
"Gone!"
"Disappeared!"
The exclamations came from Frank and Professor Scotch.
Barney's chuckle changed to a shiver, and his teeth chattered.
"Th' Ould B'y's in it!" he chatteringly declared.
"The Old Boy must have been in that canoe," agreed the professor.
Frank was puzzled and disappointed. He still refused to believe there was anything supernatural about the mysterious, white canoe, but he was forced to acknowledge to himself that the craft had done most amazing things.
"It simply slipped into some branch waterway while we were not looking," he said, speaking calmly, as if it were the most commonplace thing imaginable.
"Well, it's gone," said Scotch, as if greatly relieved. "Now, let's get out of this in a great hurry."
"I