THE GREEN GHOSTS
"I wonder what made that pup break loose like that?" he remarked.
"Must have seen something unusual."
He waited for a short time looking down to the deck below, and the
boys, Tom and Jo, directly beneath him, hugged as close to the wall as
they could. Then the _Sea Eagle_ gave a heavy lurch, and Tom lost his
grip, and much terrified, rolled to the bulwarks, in a dark bundle,
but fortunately the captain had made up his mind that it was a false
alarm and had gone back to the bridge.
Tom lay in the scuppers not daring to move, and imagining that the
captain's baleful eye was glaring down on him from the quarter deck.
As Jo would have said if he had dared open his mouth, there would not
have been any quarter in spite of the deck, but he was muzzled by
circumstances. Another heavy roll heaved the frightened Tom back
against Jo, who had a purchase on an iron ring. Jo grabbed him and
held on.
"Stay anchored, you idiot," said Jo in a hoarse whisper. "You will
give us away if you aren't careful."
"Can't help it," growled Tom. "The old ship rolls so."
"Now is our chance, come," whispered Jo.
The next dash brought them to a temporary safe anchorage directly
underneath the bridge. So far the practical jokers had rather had it
put on them, for they had been badly scared and an occasional wave
that came over the bow of the _Sea Eagle_ threatened the two gallant
Frontier Boys with a severe ducking.
"Skylarking is all right," whispered Jo to his comrade in mischief,
"but this sealarking is different."
"If you were going to be hung you would try to pun," growled Tom.
By stealthy observation they found that there was no chance for them
to reach the hood of the forecastle on the forward deck without being
seen by the keen-eyed captain.
"Think up some scheme, Jo," urged Tom, "to distract the old boy's
attention or he will spot us sure."
Jo thought a minute, then he discovered what he imagined would be a
fine scheme.
"You stay here, Tom," he whispered, and sped back towards the cabin.
"He need not have told me that," grumbled Tom. "I wouldn't be apt to
stay anywhere else."
Meanwhile, Jo had reached his cabin, and he hastily pushed the sliding
door open and went in. He was not long in getting what he was after.
It was a ship's bell, with a history to it, that he had picked up in
Hawaii--the bell, not the history. Holding the clapper tight so that
it would not betray him, Jo made his way quickly to the ladder-like
stairs leading to the quarter deck and tied it underneath, in such a
way that it was sure to ring.
This promised to be a double-barreled joke, and they would be lucky if
the recoil did not kick them over. When it was properly fastened Jo
let go of it and sped back to Tom. Scarcely had he reached his fellow
conspirator than there came the clear metallic ring of a ship's bell.
Weird and uncanny it sounded through the stormy darkness of the night.
The old captain could scarcely believe his ears. Then came that
startling vibration again.
"By Thundas, what's that?" he cried.
"It sounded to me like a ship's bell," said Jim. "I'd soon find out,
if you would take the wheel, sir." Growling something, the old fellow
made in the direction of the sound, and Jo and Tom scudded for the
forecastle, which they reached without being discovered.
Meanwhile, the captain had come to the ladder leading from the quarter
deck to the main deck, and the tolling came from the darkness, just
beneath his feet. There was a strain of superstition in him, as in all
sailors, and he had heard yarns of ghostly bells on haunted ships that
tolled for the dead about to be. And it shook the old fellow's nerve.
Just then the shepherd's dog began to howl dismally and this put the
seal on matters as far as the captain was concerned.
He could not locate the continued tolling, so he returned to the
bridge and reported the fact to Jim, with his own view of the case.
"I don't wonder at it either, Skipper," he said in tremulous tones.
"This was once a pirate's ship, and I don't need to tell you anything
about its former captain, Bill Broom. There's been many a deed of
blood done aboard this ship." Jim felt generally angry, but not at the
captain, whom he understood, but he hated to have the ship of which he
was fond, given a bad name.
"Take the wheel, sir," said Jim, "and I'll find out in a jiffy what's
wrong. If this ship is harboring any ghosts, I'll fumigate them out."
"It's a job for a young man," replied the captain, taking the wheel.
"I wish you good luck, Skipper."
No sooner did the captain take the helm than Jim strode across the
quarter deck in the direction of the tolling sound. It was weird
enough to give almost anyone the creeps. Just imagine for yourself how
it would be, with that metallic sound coming out of the stormy
darkness. Fortunately for him, Jim was not imaginative, and did not
see things unless he was shown. He reached the top of the ladder, and
the tolling was just beneath his feet. He started down and then
something happened.
Let us return to the two desperate characters, to wit: Tom and Jo,
whose malign efforts had started all this trouble. When we left them,
they were in the steep ladder-way leading down into the forecastle.
They stopped there for a minute, panting both with excitement and from
the dash they had made. It was as dark as pitch below them, but they
could hear the stentorian snore of Pete and the sturdy Irish lad, who
did the most of the stoking.
"Give me some more matches, Jo," whispered Tom.
"Don't you laugh and give us away," warned Jo.
Here they proceeded to rub the sulphur on their faces until their
countenances took on a ghostly greenish-white hue. Then they crept
down the steps into the dark forecastle.
"Who's that?" cried Pete, who slept with one eye open after the manner
of sailors.
The boys gave a deep groan and then Irish roused up. Pete was already
wide awake, and aghast at what he saw, two greenish-white faces in the
gloom and with audible groans too. At first he was paralyzed, then
Irish broke the spell.
"Howly Saints!" he yelled, "it's the devil!"
Then he sprang from his bunk yelling at every second, and made for the
ladder. Pete wasted no breath in yells. He put it into action. When
the boy gave his first yell the old sailor likewise jumped for the
ladder; no matter if he did have to pass within a few inches of those
ghostly ghosts, the fresh air for him.
It was a case of two minds with but a single thought, for old Pete and
the boy met at the ladder and then there was a wild scramble. First
Pete would start part way up and Irish would pull him down, then the
boy would get up a ways and Pete would yank him deckward and the boy
was yelling for help with every breath. It was a regular cat fight and
Tom and Jo were weak from suppressed laughter, at the exhibition. It
was funny in a way, but those laugh best who laugh last sometimes, as
Jo and Tom were likely to find out.
Finally the boy did get out on deck with Pete at his heels, and they
ran aft yelling at the tops of their voices.
"Murther!" "Haul in," according to their different modes of
expressions.
"What's the matter with you wild Indians?" roared the captain from his
station at the wheel. "Get below there till you are called."
It was lucky for them that he was not free to get at them, for the
old captain was doubly irritated by their outcry since he had been
somewhat nervous himself. Pete and the lad ran aft as though the devil
indeed was after them. Jim heard the commotion just as he started down
the ladder, and in a jiffy he had collared the runaways.
"Here, shut up!" he yelled, shaking them fiercely. "What's all this
noise about?"
It took a couple of minutes before he could get anything coherent out
of them. When he found out what they had to tell he started for the
forecastle, grabbing a belaying pin on his way. He was thoroughly
aroused, and he knew something was wrong, but he could not divine what
it was.
"What's the matter with those boobies?" cried the captain when he saw
the tall figure in the darkness making for the forecastle.
"Think they have seen ghosts," yelled Jim, "as near as I can make out,
dreaming, I guess."
"I'd give 'em something to dream about if I could lay hands on them,"
said the captain. Jim laughed and strode to the hood of the
forecastle.
Now let us see what had become of the two practical jokers. It looked
very much as though they were trapped and the joke had turned out more
seriously than they expected, as is often the case, and they knew it
would go hard with them when they were captured.
"We have got to hide," cried Jo, "those idiots have roused the whole
ship. I didn't think they would act like that."
"We will probably be keel-hauled for this," said Tom. "Where are you
going to hide, Jo?"
"Don't know, but we have got to hide somewhere, and soon, too."
Jo was more daring than Tom, and he made a dash for the deck with the
hope that he would be able to get back to his cabin and be innocently
asleep when an investigation should be made, but no sooner did he get
out than he saw that all retreat was cut off, for he could dimly see
Jim's form coming along the passageway. He hesitated for a second
undecided which way to turn, then he crouched quickly in the direction
of the bow. It had come to him like an inspiration. There was a
covered cubby hole roofed over, where old chains and such things were
kept, in the bow.