ing in the middle of the floor,
at least eight feet from the couch.

"What is the matter with you?" cried Frank, astonished.

"Oi was touched!" palpitated the Irish lad, thickly.

"Touched?"

"Thot's pwhat!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oi wur jist beginning to get slapy whin something grabbed me an' threw
me clan out here in th' middle av th' room."

"Oh, say! what are you trying to make us believe!"

"Oi'll swear to it, Frankie--Oi'll swear on a stack av Boibles."

"You dreamed it, Barney; that's what's the matter."

"Nivver a drame, me b'y, fer Oi wasn't aslape at all, at all."

"But you may have been asleep, for you say you were beginning to get
sleepy. There isn't anything here to grab you."

"Oi dunno about thot, Frankie. Oi'm incloined to belave th' Ould B'y's
around, so Oi am."

"Oh, this is tiresome! Go back to bed, and keep still."

"Nivver a bit will Oi troy to slape on thot couch again th' noight, me
b'y. Oi'll shtay roight here on th' flure."

"Sleep where you like, but keep still. That's all."

Frank was somewhat nettled by these frequent interruptions of his rest,
and he was more than tempted to give Barney cause to believe the hut was
really haunted, for he was an expert ventriloquist, and he could have
indulged in a great deal of sport with the Irish boy.

But other things were soon to take up their attention. While they were
talking a strange humming arose on every side and seemed to fill the
entire hut. At first, it was like a swarm of bees, but it grew louder
and louder till it threatened to swell into a roar.

Professor Scotch was nearly frightened out of his wits.

"It is the end of everything!" he shrieked, making a wild dash for the
door, which he flung wide open.

But the professor did not rush out of the cabin. Instead, he flung up
his hands, staggered backward, and nearly fell to the floor.

"The white canoe!" he faintly gasped, clutching at empty air for
support.

Frank sprang forward, catching and steadying the professor.

"The white canoe--where?"

"Out there!"

Sure enough, on the dark surface of the water, directly in front of the
hut, lay the mysterious canoe.

And now this singular craft was illuminated from stem to stern by a
soft, white light that showed its outlines plainly.

"Sint Patherick presarve us!" panted Barney Mulloy.

"I am getting tired of being chased around by a canoe!" said Frank, in
disgust, as he hastily sought one of the rifles.