"Now, that is more than I can stand," cried the little man, trying to look fierce. "No Irishman can talk to me like that." "Vat?" shouted Hans. "Who vos I callin' an Irishman? You petter peen gareful ur you vill got me indo drouple! I vant you to understood I nefer peen an Irishman in mein life!" "I don't wonder you deny your nationality," said Mr. Cooler. "But you cannot deceive anyone. That mug and that brogue will betray anywhere that you are Irish to the bone." Hans began to jump up and down excitedly, shaking his fist at the little man. "You shust safed my life py geddin' off this yotch vrom!" he yelled. "I murdered der last man vat caldt you Irish! Uf I efer seen you again you vill punch mein face off, und don'd you vorgot id!" "Oh, keep cool, Patsey," advised the man in gray. Now a wild howl issued from Dunnerwust's throat, and he rushed to the rail, leaning over to shake his fist as near his tomentor as possible. "Uf you dare to caldt me Batsey aken you vill gif me a lickens!" he wildly threatened. "I von't pe caldt Batsey! Batsey vasn't your name, so don'd you dare to caldt me dot! I vos porn in Sharmeny." "What part of Ireland is that in?" mildly inquired the little man. "I should say by your brogue that you came from County Cork, or somewhere in the south of Ireland." "Oh, gif me someding to murter him mit!" shrieked Hans, like a maniac. "Gif me a gun! I vill shot him on der spot, or somevere near id! Gif me a gun!" Then he made a wild rush for the cabin, still howling for a gun, and fell with a great clatter down the companion way. "Take my advice, Mr. Cooler," said Frank, who was laughing now, "get as far away from this yacht as possible before Hans comes on deck again. He has gone for a gun, and there are several below, all of them loaded." "As I do not care to be filled full of lead, I will take your advice," said the man in gray, calmly. "Irishmen are very quick-tempered, and I see I have ruffled this one somewhat. However, he proved very amusing for a short time. Good-day, Mr. Merriwell. I hope to see you later. In fact, I think I shall--Bill, you may set me ashore." Bill, the boatman, was somewhat nervous, and he rowed away from the yacht as hastily as possible. The dory was not many lengths away before Hans came howling to the deck, wildly flourishing one of Merry's shotguns. "Shown me to him!" yelled Hans, almost frothing at the mouth. "Vere vos der man vot caldt you an Irishmans? He vill shoot me in a minute uf I see heem! Vere he vos?" Then as he saw the dory pulling away, he rushed to the side of the yacht and prepared to shoot, but Frank seized him and took the gun away in a twinkling, saying, sternly: "Are you crazy, Hans? Do you want to be hanged for murder? I never saw you this way before." "Dot man caldt me an Irishmans!" "Well?" "He caldt me Batsey?"