  The row out to the wreck was a long one, but the captain, who was used to rowing, energetically bent to the task. The water was fairly quiet and the dinghy cut its way without undue bobbing through the gently rising sea. Before long the boys saw the great advantage of allowing the captain to row. The night was dark and the task of rowing toward the distant schooner had to be performed with accurate guesswork. They were sure that they would have had great difficulty in finding their way, but the captain, with his one view of the wreck and the direction of it, knew just how to keep the bow of the dinghy headed. Very little was said and the row took more than an hour. No plan of action was agreed upon, as they knew that events must mold their actions once they got aboard the hulk. Although they realized that there was a chance that Terry was not aboard and never had been aboard they refused to pay any heed to the possibility. This was the first opportunity they had had for action, a chance to release the energy stored up by their anxiety, and even if the object of their search was not there they hoped to capture the bandit gang. They were almost upon the wreck before they saw it, and a half dozen strokes served to bring them under its stern. There was no other boat there at the time, and Don thought that the better plan would have been to tie up to the power boat which was probably on the side, but the captain was taking the lead in the silent attack and Don said nothing. They waited a moment before going aboard and listened, the captain holding the oars motionless. But no sound came to them, so the oars were carefully placed along the sides and the painter was uncoiled by Jim. Without making a sound he stood up, cast the loop over a broken upright of the stern rail, and made fast. They were now firmly tied up to the Alaskan and ready to go aboard. Jim went first, pulling himself up by his arms, finding it quite a struggle but making it without noise. Don followed and then came the captain, and they were safely aboard. Their first thought was to look all around and get their bearings. The deck was deserted and only a faint light shone up from the companionway, but the captain hesitated to use the flashlight. Someone might be lurking on the deck and he did not want to take unnecessary chances. They could dimly make out the outlines of the wreck, and the little that they could see was clear to them from the glimpse they had had of her that afternoon. Right before them rose an after deckhouse and they paused behind this while they looked around. Satisfied with his observations the captain turned to his companions. “All right, let’s go,” he whispered, and started around the low deckhouse. But at that moment Don seized his arm and pulled him back. Down on his knees went the boy and the captain followed, as did Jim. They had not seen anything and the captain looked at Don. “What is it, boy?” he asked. Don’s whisper was the least bit agitated. “I don’t believe in ghosts, but look at that!” They looked and the captain’s breath came in a sudden gasp. Jim clicked his teeth together. In front of them, between the first and the second mast, a white figure was slowly rising up into the air. Silently it rose, a shape clothed in white, and when it cleared the deck it hung suspended in the air a foot from the planks. The form was very much like that of a man, with a white head, arms and a body in a long flowing robe, though there were no feet to the thing. It swayed back and forth, dancing a bit, and then began a silent and weird advance toward them. The three crouching in the lee of the deckhouse did not know what to make of the thing. Being healthy human beings they scorned a belief in anything unearthly, but the apparition which danced in front of them was unlike anything that they had ever seen. The very way it advanced without a sound took their breath away, and the mocking way that it danced was more than disconcerting. The time of night, the mystery surrounding the old battered wreck, and the very blackness of the sea, was enough to make them feel their blood chill and to think all kinds of wondering thoughts. The ghostly shape advanced to the mainmast and there stopped, gently swaying and dancing. Then it commenced to retreat at first slowly and then with increasing speed. When it had reached a point midway between the first and second masts it stopped altogether and remained suspended in the air, now almost motionless. The captain reached out and touched the boys on the shoulder, and they drew close to him. When they had placed their heads close to him he whispered: “Looks like some kind of a game. They must have seen us coming and they are trying to scare us off. I guess the best thing we can do is to rush ’em, in spite of their flour-bag ghost. What say?” The boys whispered assent, falling in at once with the captain’s theory of the dancing ghost. They had risen on their knees when something happened that checked them. A man came up the companionway and stepped out onto the deck, looking off over the stern. That checked them completely and bewildered them. If, as the captain thought, the unearthly shape had been placed there to scare them, the presence of the man, whom Don knew to be Marcy, was enough to disrupt the plan. It did not seem logical and so they halted, uncertain. Marcy looked over the side and then turned slowly toward the bow. And as he did so, his eye fell on the shape. They saw his form become rigid and a low cry burst from him. At the cry the dangling ghost began its terrifying advance, jerking up and down as it came. At the same time a low, hollow whistle accompanied it, rising high and sinking to a sort of mournful sigh. Marcy gave a shriek of fear and mental agony and rushed in a panic down the companionway ladder, stumbling part way down. They could hear him shouting for Benito as he went. No sooner had he disappeared than the shape retreated rapidly, and gaining the original position of midway between the forward and center mast, dropped out of sight like a flash. They saw it go down and apparently melt right through the boards of the deck. It did not crumple up on the deck, but went on through, a faint squeaking sound accompanying its disappearance. “Well, by jumping thunder!” gasped the captain, “What in tunket do you suppose that was?” Before the amazed boys could venture a guess, Benito, Frank and Marcy rushed on deck. That is to say that Benito and Frank rushed, but Marcy very cautiously stuck his head out of the companionway. The two men on the deck looked all around and then turned to Marcy. “Where’s a ghost?” roared Benito. “Come out of that hatch and speak up.” Marcy ventured to creep forth from the shelter of the companionway and looked fearfully around. There was nothing to be seen and he was clearly at a loss. But he pointed in the direction in which the ghost had hung. “It was right there,” he stammered, running his fingers uncertainly over his chin. “I saw it as plain as day, I tell you. It was about seven feet high and it burned all over, just like fire. It had a couple of horns and it looked at me with a horrible look on its face.” The captain chuckled silently. “That lad saw more than we did,” he whispered. Benito went around the mainmast and made a hasty inspection. When he returned he was thoroughly out of patience, and the waiting party strongly suspected that a secret fear was mostly responsible for it. “Look here,” he growled. “You cut this stuff out and turn in. I’d like to know what your game is, scaring us like this? Do you think it’s funny?” “It’s no game,” the bandit protested. “Anyway, it’s mostly your fault. If you and Frank hadn’t been talking so much about the ghosts that you say hang around all wrecked ships, I wouldn’t have felt the way I did. I tell you I saw something, and I’m leaving this beastly old hole in the morning.” “You’ll feel different in the morning,” put in Frank. “What you need is a good sleep. Come on down and turn in.” The men were just turning to go down when the old lady appeared at the companionway opening. She was not looking at the men but beyond them, pointing toward the deckhouse behind which the boys and the captain were hiding. “Well, old lady,” challenged the leader, gruffly. “What are you looking at?” “I just saw a head over the top of that deckhouse,” the woman said, sharply. The captain groaned aloud. He had been so interested in the proceedings that he had raised himself up higher than he had intended, and the top of his captain’s hat had protruded over the edge of the deckhouse. The old lady had seen it against the faint light of the sky. “What!” shouted Benito, whirling around. Don and Jim held their breath, but the captain saw that the time for action had come. Slapping them sharply with either hand on the arms he leaped around the deckhouse. “Up and at ’em, mates,” he roared. “Give ’em all you’ve got!” Alone, he charged across the deck at the three men, and the boys lost a precious second in gathering their wits. But when they did awaken to the situation in hand they ran around the shelter and raced after the captain. The three outlaws, seeing one man, had intended to stand their ground, but when they saw the two boys loom up out of the darkness they sprang into action in their turn. “Down the hatch!” roared the leader. The old lady, with surprising agility for one so old, had gotten out of the way and disappeared from sight. Marcy hurtled through the opening and jumped into the hold. Frank followed and Benito was halfway through when the aroused captain caught him by the coat tail. “Not so fast, my friend!” panted the captain. “I have a little business with you!” For a brief second Benito was in a bad fix, but his companions below seized his legs and pulled hard. The tail of his coat ripped off, the captain staggered back, and Benito thudded to the floor of the hold. Before Jim, who was foremost, could reach the companionway, the door was slid shut and a bolt slipped into place. “Well, I sure spoiled things that time, didn’t I?” grumbled the captain, as he scrambled to his feet. Jim was pushing fruitlessly at the slide but the captain pushed him aside. “No use in doing that,” commented the captain. “Hunt up a good-sized piece of timber and we’ll smash the hatch in.” They located a spar that had at one time, probably during the wreck, fallen to the deck, and with this they savagely assaulted the sliding door. There was room for all three of them to get in place on this battering ram and they started at several paces from the door and ran at it, picking up speed as they approached it. The ram, guided by their arms, smote the door a thundering crack, and it shook and creaked. “That won’t last long,” gasped the captain. “At it again.” They rammed it again and the door cracked from end to end. On the third attack it gave way with the sound of splintering wood, and the spar went through with a rush. With his aroused strength the old captain pulled the wood away from the frame. “Now to clean these pirates out!” cried the captain, thrusting one foot over the broken frame. But Don pulled him back. “What is that, captain?” Beside the schooner the sound of an engine reached them. With one accord they raced to the starboard rail and looked over. Just as they did so the black cruiser drew away from the side of the wreck and made for the open sea. Frank standing at the stern, waved them a derisive farewell. “So long, boys,” the little man hailed. “Say goodbye to the rats for us. We didn’t have time!” “All the rats there was is on that boat!” rumbled the captain. “Slipped through our fingers again, by golly! Now, how in thunder did they get on that cruiser?” “Search me,” shrugged Don. “There must be an outlet somewhere.” Jim leaned over the side of the wreck. “Why, sure, there it is. The whole side of this boat is one big hole. While we were battering the door down they just walked out the hole and got aboard their boat.” “That’s about it,” agreed the captain, looking over the side. “They had that opening in case they were ever bottled up in the place. Well, no use crying over things as they stand, but I am sorry I’m such a blundering windjammer.” “Oh, never mind that,” said Don, hastily. “All I hope is that they didn’t take Terry with them, provided they ever had him. Let’s take a look through this place.” They descended into the wreck and readily found their way into the room lately occupied by the men. It was evident that they had left in a hurry, for a pack of cards was scattered over the table and an oil lamp burned in a bracket. A fire burned in an iron stove in the galley near the bunk room, and a few articles of clothing were hanging on a line near the stove. In a smaller room three bunks were ready for occupancy, with the covers turned back, and in a somewhat better room, nearby, evidently occupied by the old lady, a comb and brush stood on a rough box. There was no sign of any stolen articles anywhere, and they concluded that any such things were stored on the cruiser. “Now, we’ll see how those boys got out,” announced the captain. Guided by his flashlight they went back to the main hold and walked in between the timbers. Before they had gone very far they found water on the floor of the bunk room and then they arrived at the opening itself. It was a great, gaping hole which the storm had beaten in the side of the ship, and because the hull was already resting on the bottom of the ocean it had not done any great damage. The hole was big enough to permit the men to pass out in safety to their cruiser, and a heavy plank had been placed from the floor to the boat. Don stepped forward but the captain drew him back. “No use in going any further,” he cautioned. “We don’t know where this floor ends and you might suddenly fall right in.” He flashed the light all around on the timbers, and the ray of light showed them to be covered with moss and green scum. “This craft has been under water during every good storm,” the captain commented. “They wouldn’t dare to use it during the stormy season, because they might be caught like rats in a trap if the sea came up. Maybe they just stumbled across it, or maybe they have been using it right along. I’d say that they had been doing that, judging by the way the blankets are on the bunks.” “What are we going to do now?” inquired Jim. “If Terry was aboard they have taken him with them. I guess there is no use in looking further.” But Captain Blow shook his head. “We’ve got some more investigating to do,” he announced. “Don’t forget that ghost. You know, we thought at first that those fellows had rigged that thing for our benefit, but it must have been rigged for their benefit. It looked mighty spooky the way it sank down in that deck, but there is some every day explanation to it, and we’ve got to find out what it was.” “But we’ve been over the whole ship,” protested Don. The captain shook his head. “No, we haven’t. There is quite some room up in the bow, and it doesn’t connect with this section of the ship. That ghost, or whatever it was, is up in the bow, and we want to find it right away. If we don’t it may run off with our dinghy and then we’ll be marooned for fair. Jim, step in the galley and get that axe by the stove, will you?” Jim procured the axe and joined the other two in the hold. Captain Blow led the way up the companionway ladder, and after making sure that the dinghy was still tied to the after rail, led the way forward. “Now we’ll find out whether the ghost belongs to this ship, or the ship belongs to this ghost,” he said. |
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