" said the boatman, "yo'll heah somefin'
wo'se than eveh come from de bottom ob de sea."

"Worse?"

"Worse!"

The two exclamations rang like one as the two boys strained into
attention. They listened intently and then across the water came a
whisking rushing sound followed by a deep 'boom' and a distant splash.
It was several moments, too, before the swell from that splash reached
the boat; when it did, the craft rocked noticeably.

"What is that?" asked Colin.

"Vampa, sah," answered the boatman, as he took his oars and started to
row away in the opposite direction.

"Hold on a bit there," the sponge-buyer said, "I never saw a vampire.
What does it look like?"

"Some calls 'em sea-bat or devil-ray," was the reply, "an' the're
twenty, thirty feet 'cross sometimes. They looks lak a sting ray. Ah
don' wan' to see 'em."

"Isn't that a harpoon down there in the boat?" the capitalist asked
calmly.

"Yes, sah, oh, yes, sah, but Lordy, sah, yo' can' do nuffin wif a sea
vampa. No, sah. Why, jes' oveh yondah dey was a big schooneh towed out
to sea by a vampa."

"A schooner?"

"Yes, sah, a seven'y-ton schooneh. Yes, sah. He mus' ha' been a big
fellah an' goin' swimmin' along he struck de anchoh chain wif his hohns.
It made him mad, right mad, it did, an' he jes' heave up dat hyeh anchoh
an' toted it off to sea, draggin' de ship wif him."

The owner of the _Golden Falcon_ laughed.

"Can you beat that? That's the worst fish story I've heard, Colin. You
tell some good ones, too!"

"It's an old story," the boy answered, "and I believe it's true. They
have often run away with boats."

The capitalist took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.

"I've harpooned dozens of porpoises from the _Falcon_," he said, "but I
never had a chance at a sea vampire. This begins to look interesting."

"The devil ray, or manta as it is often called, will give you a run for
your money," said Colin, "and after all we can cut the line."

"We'll not cut any line," was the response. "Now, Pete, get after him."

But the negro fairly blubbered in terror.

"Lordy, lordy," he cried, "an' what yo' goin' t' do to a po' ol' niggeh.
Ah'll do an'thin' yo' say, Ah'll tell yo' de troof about de sponge
fahms, an'thin', onl' don' go afteh dat vampa."

"You'll tell me the truth about the sponge farms, eh?" the prospective
buyer remarked sternly. "So you were trying to put up a crooked deal.
I'll attend to you when we get ashore. Now you row a