t away."

There was a smile on his face, and he seemed quite undisturbed by what
had happened.

"Oh, Frank!" cried Inza, "what if he had struck us?"

"He would have bumped his nose."

"Oh, how can you joke now!"

"Now is the time to joke. I didn't have time to think of a joke a little
while ago."

Browning dug himself out of the bottom of the boat, hoisted his huge
body to a seat, and drew a deep breath of relief.

"A man who shoots at a whale with a rifle is a thundering fool!" he
observed.

"And a man who tells him to shoot is another," laughed Frank.

"That is my first adventure with a whale," said the big Yale man, "and,
if I have my way about it, it will be my last."

"Is--is he really gone?" faltered Paula, looking around.

"Yes, Miss Benjamin," assured Frank, "he has departed in the direction
of Greenland."

"And he didn't touch the boat?"

"If he had we'd be enjoying a swimming match for the yacht now."

"If he had," said Inza, "some of us would have been killed right away,
and the rest of us would have been drowned."

"Let's go back to the yacht!" urged the trembling Paula, her voice
choking.

"I am quite ready," said Inza. "I don't care about going over to that
island now."

So Frank pulled back to the floating oar, and then the boat was headed
toward the _White Wings_.

Merriwell did his best to restore the girls' spirits. He joked and
laughed, and before the yacht was reached he had almost convinced them
that they had been in no great danger.

"But, oh, it gave me such a fright!" said Paula. "Just to see that huge
creature coming through the water straight toward us! It was awful!"

Frank was chosen as the one to relate the adventure to Miss Gale, for
the girls were aware that she might scold them for leaving the yacht
without her consent, and Frank could make it all right with her.

Hans was on deck, but he had not seen their adventure with the whale,
although he had heard the report of the rifle, for he cried as they
approached:

"Vot you shooted? I heard der gun ven id fired you off."

"We shot a large seabird," answered Frank; "but the varmint got away
from us."

"Vot kindt up a pird vos a varmint?" asked Hans. "You don'd remember dot
I haf efer seen von, do I?"

"It is large enough to make a fish chowder," explained Merry.

"Vot vos I gifin' you?" cried Hans. "Who efer heart a pird uf dot could
make a vish-chowter! I vos guyin' you, I oxpect."

Browning threw him the