There was a blank look on Clay’s face as he stepped back to the deck of
the _Rambler_. Jule also showed great excitement as he faced his friend.
“Did you see them?” the latter asked of Clay.
“See what?” demanded Alex.
“The three blue lights!” Jule answered.
Alex and Case punched each other in the ribs and chuckled.
“You’re the boy that’s been reading out of the dream book,” the latter
said.
“Didn’t you see three blue lights right down on the surface of the
river?” asked Jule, again turning to Clay.
“I certainly did!” the latter answered.
“Then they’re there yet,” Alex insisted, vaulting to the top of the
gunwale. “They must be there yet, for no boat could disappear so
quickly. I’ll take a look at them myself.”
“But I tell you they wasn’t in any boat!” insisted Jule. “They were
floating right on the surface of the water—three large and very
brilliant blue lights.”
“Did you see them, Clay?” asked Alex, scornfully.
“Yes,” replied Clay, “I did, and they were actually floating directly on
the surface of the river.”
“Why can’t I see them, then?” demanded Alex from his position on the
gunwale.
“Because,” laughed Jule, “it is only the eye of the believer that sees.
Clay believed, and he saw.”
“Honest, Clay?” asked Case.
“Yes, I saw three blue lights down to the level of the river,” answered
Clay, “and I saw something more. You-all heard the explosion?” he asked.
“Well, when that explosion came, there was a puff of smoke and the
lights went out in a second.”
“Wasn’t there any one in sight?” asked Alex.
“No one in sight!” replied Clay.
“No boat, or anything of that kind?”
“Not a thing!” shouted Jule. “I tell you those three blue lights came
right up out of the bed of the river. And then there was an explosion,
and they disappeared, just like they’d been winked out. Strangest thing
I ever saw!”
“Well, that’s enough for me!” Alex declared. “You’ll be seeing green
elephants with blue tails next. I’m going to bed.”
In a short time all the boys were abed save Jule, who sat on the prow
with Captain Joe and Teddy, the bear. The night had not fulfilled its
promise of rain, and the stars now shone dimly down from a misty sky. It
was very still on the _Rambler_’s deck, for no noises came from the
landing, and there was no wash of the current against the boat.
The boy was puzzling over the strange appearance and disappearance of
the three blue lights. There was a trace of superstition in the nature
of the boy, and he was half inclined to regard what had been seen as a
manifestation of the supernatural.
“If Clay hadn’t seen the same thing I did,” he mused, “I wouldn’t have
any trouble making up my mind. Blue lights don’t rise up out of rivers
through human agency.”
The boys were all astir shortly after daybreak, and Alex went on a
scouting tour up to the little river settlement at the mouth of Wolf
Creek. The _Rambler_ lay only a few feet from a rough pier which had
been spiled out into the stream, so the boys had no difficulty in
reaching the shore. The rowboat, it will be remembered, had been left up
the river when the two boys had set out on their hunting trip.
Early as it was, the boy found people moving about the one street of the
little town, which lay on the east bank of the creek bearing its own
name. Standing on the rude platform before a small storehouse, the boy
saw two men; one of sober aspect, wearing a long gray beard, and the
other much younger and showing a laughing face under his dilapidated
cap. As he approached the younger man beckoned.
“What do you want, boy?” he asked.
“Gasoline,” was the answer.
The young fellow stepped off the platform and advanced toward the pier
where the _Rambler_ lay. The old man sat down on the platform.
“Is that your boat?” the young man asked of Alex.
“Yes, that’s our boat,” replied the boy. “Our gasoline tanks are empty.
Can I buy a supply in town, do you think?”
“Certainly!” was the answer. “Father keeps it for sale. During the
course of the season a good many motor boats tie up here. We keep all
manner of supplies.”
“Well, then,” Alex replied, “We’d like to get about a dozen spark plugs.
I don’t think that porcelain insulation is as good as it used to be, for
we break a good many. They go smash at the least little jar.”
“All right!” the young man replied. “Step up there and tell father what
you want and he’ll open the store now. Are your friends on the boat
awake?”
“Sure!” replied Alex. “They’re all awake except the bear and the
bulldog.”
The young man laughed and turned toward the pier, while Alex hastened
toward the place where the old gentleman sat on the store platform.
The boy explained his wants briefly and the old gentleman unlocked the
battered door of his place of business. It was an uncouth, unpainted,
sidling little store, with broken panes showing in the windows and new
shingles speckling the roof.
The interior, however, showed considerable care in the arrangement of
goods and the stock seemed to be large and of good quality. Without
making any pretense of waiting on the boy, the old dealer, who
introduced himself as Martin Groger, seated himself in a much whittled
arm chair and pointed Alex to another.
“Boy,” he said with a very serious expression of countenance, “did you
sleep in the motor boat at the mouth of Wolf Creek last night?”
“Part of the night,” answered Alex.
“What did you hear along after midnight, say an hour or two after
midnight?”
“Nothing special,” answered the boy.
“Did you hear anything that sounded like an explosion?” the old man went
on, “—something like the explosion of a boiler?”
“Why, I heard something of that kind,” Alex replied, wondering what the
old gentleman was getting at. “Did you hear that, too?”
“Yes, I heard it,” answered the old gentleman, drawing his long beard
through his fingers and fixing his grave eyes on those of the lad. “Yes,
I heard it,” he repeated, “and I’ve heard it a good many nights when
there wasn’t any one else awake to hear it—when there wasn’t any one
else astir in the village but me, and no boat tied up at the mouth of
Wolf Creek. Did you see anything?” he added eagerly.
“What would you expect me to see?” asked Alex, with a smile.
“I ain’t saying anything about that,” replied the old gentleman. “I’m
asking you a plain simple question. Did you see anything just before
that explosion?”
“No, I didn’t,” the boy answered, “but two of my chums did.”
The merchant leaned forward with suspicion in his eyes.
“You’re not lying about this?” he asked.
“I would have no object in doing that.”
“Then tell me what you saw.”
“Two of my chums saw three blue lights floating on the surface of the
river—at least that’s what they said.”
“And this was just before the explosion?” queried the old man.
“The lights disappeared after the explosion,” Alex explained. “Do you
know anything about them?” he asked.
“Boy,” the old man exclaimed, moving about in his chair excitedly, “your
chums have seen what only one person in this section has ever been able
to locate.”
“Why,” Alex declared, “any one, I guess, might have seen the lights. The
boys said they stuck out from the river like a sore thumb.”
“Just so!” answered the old gentleman, eagerly. “Just so! Now let me
tell you something about those blue lights,” he went on. “I’ve seen them
time and time again, but the people hereabouts always deny seeing them.”
“Isn’t that remarkable?” asked Alex.
“There’s my son Charles, now,” continued the old man. “I’ve tried to
point them out to him, but he says they don’t exist. Flings out at his
old father just like that. Says they don’t exist!”
“How often do they appear?” asked the boy.
“I haven’t heard of their being about before last night for several
months,” answered the old merchant. “I was in hopes they’d never be seen
here again.”
“What’s the matter with ’em?” asked Alex.
“Matter enough,” was the reply. “They bring disaster!”
“Alex restrained a burst of laughter with difficulty, but finally
managed to face the old gentleman gravely.
“Bring disaster, do they?” he asked.
“Indeed they do!” was the reply. “Whenever the ghosts of the river dead
walk on the surface of the water, it means trouble for all river
dwellers.”
“Many years ago,” the old man continued, “the _Mary Ann_, as trim a
passenger packet as ever sailed between Cincinnati and the Mississippi,
blew her boilers all to flinders right opposite the mouth of Wolf Creek.
There were two hundred passengers on board and they were dancing when
the explosion took place.”
“The deck where they were amusing themselves was lighted by three blue
lights! Ever since that night, the three blue lights have warned of
impending calamity.”
“So you think they’re ghost lights, do you?” asked Alex.
“I know they are!” replied the old merchant. “And I’ll tell you why.
Those lights never fail to appear on the anniversary of the wrecking of
the boat.
“The Mary Ann went down ten years ago to-night, and on every anniversary
of the drowning of those two hundred people, the three blue lights are
seen rising over the exact place where she sank.”
“That’s remarkable!” exclaimed the boy.
“Those who were drowned,” the merchant continued, “went down in their
sins. They were dancing to the devil’s music when they sank. Their
bodies rest uneasily on the bottom of the river, for none of them were
ever found.”
“Why, that’s singular!” Alex remarked. “It would seem that the bodies
might have been recovered.”
“They never have been found,” was the reply. “River men say they were
carried off by an undercurrent and whirled down into the Mississippi,
but I believe the bodies are in there yet.”
“And every anniversary of their death, they show three blue lights, do
they?” asked the boy wonderingly.
“Three blue lights!” said the old man, “and after the three blue lights,
the explosion. I have watched for the lights and the noise every night
for nine years and I have never failed to see and hear.”
“And trouble always comes after the exhibition?” queried the boy. “Then
there is another mystery for the crew of the _Rambler_ to solve.”