The boy stared. “Yes, they is!” he retorted. “I seen it! It was white! It——”

“Where did you see it?” Nicky asked quickly.

“By de window, sar!”

“Was it looking in?”

“It was comin’ to’ds”—toward, he meant—“to’ds me!”

“What is all this?” a new voice spoke. The owner of the plantation, a rough, stocky Englishman with a bronzed face, stood in the doorway. He had been out on another of his many properties for several days and had, apparently, come back in time to discover the excitement without understanding its meaning. Mr. Gray explained the boy’s fright without mentioning the loss of the map. Nicky, about to speak, saw Cliff make a gesture which unmistakably was the Mystery Boys’ signal for silence; he closed his lips and waited.

“These colored people are afraid of shadows,” said the plantation owner. “Run along home, boy. Nothing will hurt you!”

“No, sar, Mister Coleson, sar, I dassent go in de dark alone!”

“The natives of this island are full of legends and stories about ghosts,” Mr. Coleson explained to the group. “Why, I have even heard them declare that the ghosts and spirits of the old pirates appear at times. Joe, my overseer, here on the plantation, says he once heard where treasure was hidden and he decided to try to get it. But when he got near the place his superstitions got the best of him. The way he tells about it, he saw pirates, in red bandana head cloths, with glittering cutlasses, and smoking pistols, stalking toward him. Naturally, being a coward, he ran. Of course,” he added, “I’m only telling you what he said. Personally, I think the fellow built it all up in his mind!”

“Oh—sar!” broke in the colored boy. “No! I see dem, too! I see Cap’n Kidd in my dream, de odder night. He come and he say ‘Boo!’ an’ wake me up!”

Clarence Neale laughed.

“That shows how easy it is to believe in ghosts if you hear about them and think about them all your life!”

“Captain Kidd, eh?” repeated the Englishman, laughing and then becoming half serious. “Well, if there’s any truth in 

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