and he had a red-hot spear of iron in his hand. He run at me to stick that spear inter me. I know he was goin' to spear me and then kerry me down below fer shootin' partridges Sunday. He waren't more'n six feet of me when I poked out my old gun an' fired the second barrel right inter his face and eyes. It never bothered him a bit. Run? Why, I flew! Never kivered ground so fast before, an' I never 'spect to ag'in. I bet sometimes I jumped as much as fifteen feet to a leap." The speaker took out a dirty handkerchief and mopped the big drops of perspiration off his face. He was shaking with excitement, and his eyes gleamed. He showed every symptom of extreme terror as he related the story, and it seemed plain enough that he believed every word he was uttering. "Go on!" cried several. "I don't know how I ever got away," said the hunchback, huskily. "I do know that monster was chasin' me right through the woods, tryin' to ram his spear inter my back as if I was a flounder an' he was arter lobster bait. I managed to hold onter my old gun, though at the time I didn't know I was a-doin' of it. If I hed stopped ter think, I'd throwed the gun erway. When I came out ter ther bank nigh ter whar my dory was hitched, I made a jump that took me clean from ther top to ther bottom. It seems as if right when I was in ther air I thought how that bo't was tied with her painter, an' I rammed my hand inter my pocket fer my knife. When I got ter ther boat I had the knife in my hand. I flung ther gun in an' yanked open ther knife jest as ther critter came down over ther bank arter me, an' he sailed down where I had jumped. I saw him do it, and I know he spread out some red things like wings. I don't say they was wings, but they looked like wings. I yanked open my knife and I cut the painter. The tide was in, and the dory was afloat, which was a good thing fer me, for when I jumped in I gave her a shove that sent her away from the shore. I got ther oars inter ther water and pulled. The critter didn't chase me any arter it reached the edge of the water." Again the excited speaker wiped his face with the soiled handkerchief, and then he sat down in a chair, as if the remembrance of the adventure had taken all the strength out of him. He was shaking all over. Frank Merriwell and Bruce Browning looked at each other. "How is that for a vivid imagination?" grunted the big fellow. "It's pretty good, but he seems to believe it himself," said Frank. "He does act that way," confessed Bruce. "I am getting interested," declared Frank. "When I get a chance, I shall visit Devil Island." "Where is it?" "Not far from here, if I remember right." "If I thought there was anything down there worth seeing, I wouldn't mind going myself," said the big Yale man; "but these fishermen are such confounded liars that you can't tell." Those who had been listening to the story were urging the hunchback to tell some more. After a little time, he stopped wiping his face and said: