enced quizzing him on how
shore birds ought to be cooked, in order to bring out their particular
flavor. Nick was never happier than when engaged in his favorite
conversation concerning appetizing things to eat. Indeed, there was
only one thing he liked better; and this was to indulge in the actual
demonstration itself, and devour the finished product of the cook's
skill.

Suddenly Jimmy gave a yell. The others started up, thinking that
perhaps Jack had made an unusually fine haul, or been pulled in himself
by a large fish. George was just breaking through the scrub near by,
and he echoed the shout of Jimmy.

"Look at the _Wireless_, would you, fellows? Say! she's bewitched,
that's what!" was what he whooped, as he started to run toward them.

And as they turned their eyes in the direction of the erratic speed
boat, what was their amazement to see the little craft moving away at a
fast pace, although the engine was quite dead and cold, and not the
first sign of a human being could be detected aboard.

It was a mystery that sent a cold chill through every heart!

CHAPTER XVII.

GOOD-BYE TO AN ANCHOR.

"Who's playing this trick on me?" demanded George, as he reached the
others.

"Look around and you'll see we're all here, with Jack running like mad
this way," observed Herb, indignantly.

"But what in the Sam Hill ails the bally old boat, then?" exclaimed
George, as he turned his eyes again on the fast receding _Wireless_,
that was heading out from the shore.

"It's some trick of a native cracker; he's swimming under water, and
pulling the boat after him. We've got to get in the other boats and
give chase," declared shrewd Josh.

"It's mighty queer, that's all!" gasped Nick; while Jimmy stood as if
turned into stone, his eyes round with fear and superstition, for Jimmy
had inherited the regular Irish belief in banshees and ghosts.

George made a dash for the nearest boat, which happened to be the
_Tramp_.

"Wait for me!" shouted the owner of that craft, who was putting on a
spurt in order to reach them quickly, having forgotten all about his
finny prizes in this new and overwhelming discovery.

He came up on the run, but already Herb was in the _Comfort_, about to
start the engine.

"No need, Herb," gasped Jack, "George and myself can overtake it with
the _Tramp_. The rest of you stay here."

"But glory be, what ails the ould thing?" demanded Jimmy, determined
not to let the commodore get