The Mystery | Page 8

of interest."
"If only he isn't involved in it," said Carter anxiously.
"What could there be to involve him?" asked McGuire.
"I don't know," said Carter slowly. "Somehow I feel as if the desertion
of the schooner was in some formidable manner connected with that
light."
For perhaps fifteen minutes the glow continued. It seemed to be nearer
at hand than on the former sighting; but it took no comprehensible form.
Then it died away and all was blackness again. But the officers of the
Wolverine had long been in troubled slumber before the sensitive
compass regained its exact balance, and with the shifting wind to
mislead her, the cruiser had wandered, by morning, no man might
know how far from her course.
All day long of June 6th the Wolverine, baffled by patches of mist and
moving rain-squalls, patrolled the empty seas without sighting the lost

schooner. The evening brought an envelope of fog again, and presently
a light breeze came up from the north. An hour of it had failed to
disperse the mist, when there was borne down to the warship a flapping
sound as of great wings. The flapping grew
louder--waned--ceased--and from the lookout came a hail.
"Ship's lights three points on the starboard quarter."
"What do you make it out to be?" came the query from below.
"Green light's all I can see, sir." There was a pause.
"There's her port light, now. Looks to be turning and bearing down on
us, sir. Coming dead for us"--the man's voice rose--"close aboard; less'n
two ship's lengths away!"
As for a prearranged scene, the fog-curtain parted. There loomed
silently and swiftly the Laughing Lass. Down she bore upon the greater
vessel until it seemed as if she must ram; but all the time she was
veering to windward, and now she ran into the wind with a castanet
rattle of sails. So close aboard was she that the eager eyes of Uncle
Sam's men peered down upon her empty decks--for she was void of
life.
Behind the cruiser's blanketing she paid off very slowly, but presently
caught the breeze full and again whitened the water at her prow.
Forgetting regulations, Ives hailed loudly:
"Ahoy, Laughing Lass! Ahoy, Billy Edwards!"
No sound, no animate motion came from aboard that apparition, as she
fell astern. A shudder of horror ran across the Wolverine's quarter-deck.
A wraith ship, peopled with skeletons, would have been less dreadful to
their sight than the brisk and active desolation of the heeling schooner.
"Been deserted since early last night," said Trendon hoarsely.
"How can you tell that?" asked Barnett.

"Both sails reefed down. Ready for that squall. Been no weather since
to call for reefs. Must have quit her during the squall."
"Then they jumped," cried Carter, "for I saw her boats. It isn't
believable."
"Neither was the other," said Trendon grimly.
A hurried succession of orders stopped further discussion for the time.
Ives was sent aboard the schooner to lower sail and report. He came
back with a staggering dearth of information. The boats were all there;
the ship was intact--as intact as when Billy Edwards had taken
charge--but the cheery, lovable ensign and his men had vanished
without trace or clue. As to the how or the wherefore they might rack
their brains without guessing. There was the beginning of a log in the
ensign's handwriting, which Ives had found with high excitement and
read with bitter disappointment.
"Had squall from northeast," it ran. "Double reefed her and she took it
nicely. Seems a seaworthy, quick ship. Further search for log. No result.
Have ordered one of crew who is a bit of a mechanic to work at the
brass-bound chest till he gets it open. He reports marks on the lock as if
somebody had been trying to pick it before him."
There was no further entry.
"Dr. Trendon is right," said Barnett. "Whatever happened--and God
only knows what it could have been--it happened just after the squall."
"Just about the time of the strange glow," cried Ives.
It was decided that two men and a petty officer should be sent aboard
the Laughing Lass to make her fast with a cable, and remain on board
over night. But when the order was given the men hung back. One of
them protested brokenly that he was sick. Trendon, after examination,
reported to the captain.
"Case of blue funk, sir. Might as well be sick. Good for nothing. Others

aren't much better."
"Who was to be in charge?"
"Congdon," replied the doctor, naming one of the petty officers.
"He's my coxswain," said Captain Parkinson. "A first-class man. I can
hardly believe that he is afraid. We'll see."
[Illustration: A man who was a bit of a mechanic was set to work to
open the chest]