"Well, you are cool enough!" said Frank Merriwell. "Oh, I'm Cooler," chuckled the queer old fellow. "Told you so some time ago. Howdy, boys. Fine day, isn't it? Think we will have some more weather? Or don't you know 'weather' we will or not?" Bruce Browning arose to his feet and removed his coat. "That's one way to keep cool at a clambake," grinned the man in gray. "What are you going to do?" "Mop up the beach with you," answered Browning, quietly. "I am going to teach you a lesson." "Teach is correct as you applied it," said Mr. Cooler. "Down this way I find people say 'learn' for 'teach.' Just think how bad it would have sounded had you said you were going to learn me a lesson." He raked out another clam, but dropped it, shaking his hand and blowing on his fingers. "Even though I am Cooler, I find some things are warm enough," he murmured. "That clam must have been near a fire. I dote on clams, baked, boiled, fried or frizzled, it don't make a dern bit of difference. Whenever I get an opportunity I go gunning for clams myself. I think it is great sport to shoot a clam on the wing. With a good bird gun and a dog, I presume it is an easy thing to bag clams around here?" He was not paying the least attention to the big Yale man, and Browning's threat to "wipe up the beach" with him seemed forgotten. Hans was glaring at the man in gray, while strange, gurgling sounds came from his throat. All at once he gave a yell, rolled over backward and scrambled to his feet. "Don't touch him, Pruce!" warned the Dutch boy. "I peen goin' to smash dot veller myseluf!" "Ah there, Irish," chirped Mr. Cooler. "You will catch cold in your liver if you let the wind blow down your throat that way. Have a clam and let it stop that orifice in your countenance." This made Hans so angry that he danced wildly and began to choke and gurgle in his endeavor to shriek forth something, but the man in gray did not even look at him. There was something extremely ludicrous about it all, and Frank was forced to laugh. When he saw Merry laughing, Hans seemed to lose all his strength, and he dropped down on a rock, completely knocked out, even though he had not been touched. Browning was grinning now, for he saw the humor of the situation, and he could not help admiring the nerve of the queer old fellow. "Look here, Mr. Cooler," said Frank, "who invited you to help yourself?" "Eh? Oh, why, I didn't need an invitation to join old friends like you chaps. I knew you would be glad to see me." "We are," grunted Browning, "tickled to death." "Then sit right up and take hold, boys," chuckled Mr. Cooler. "Catch your clam and peel him. We'll have a real jolly time." He raked another one off the seaweed. "How did you get here?" asked Merry.