“How’d you get them?” Tom broke in.

“Equally simple, my lad. I was not far away when I observed your little difficulty with the voodoo woman, and being curious, half intending to interfere, I came closer, just beyond the heavy fringe of brush near the cabin. From there I overheard enough of your talk with Sam to become interested. I followed you three and since you held your supposedly secret meeting quite close to my own windows I overheard some more.”

The trio of chums felt sheepish. For once their mysteries had been carelessly pursued; they had talked openly instead of by signs, as they all recalled clearly on looking back upon that day of many excitements.

“Knowing the island superstitions, it was easy to frighten the child—the little negro boy—I merely held a handkerchief over my face as I crouched by the dining room window, watching for a chance to get the map you were discussing. My white suit accomplished the rest.”

He had worn a light suit, as did most of the people of Jamaica, the youths recollected.

“I was sorry to have to strike Sam, but I saw that your part of the chart was insufficient and so I took the balance from Sam.”

“It’s all very easy to see, now that you explain it,” said Nicky, ruefully recalling that they had attached some ghostly importance to perfectly ordinary causes. Nicky also recalled that Mr. Coleson had, himself, that night, mentioned the ghosts—for his own purpose, it now became clear!

“I suppose you climbed into a window after you got our map,” said Tom, vowing mentally never to accept a single ghostly bit of evidence again as long as he lived.

“I did better than that,” replied Mr. Coleson, appearing to take a grim delight in explaining how easily he had hoodwinked them. “I merely crouched beside the white part of the house, back of the shrubbery. You looked all about except right behind you, that time!”

“But see here!” cut in Ortiga, “what is it that my brother has use for you for?”

Again the chums became silent; actually, there was no answer but they pretended mystifying knowledge, in a way paying back the debt they owed Mr. Coleson and the colored man for the blue light and old tin can.

“Well, it doesn’t matter—now that we shall use you first!”

“Use us?” cried Nicky. “Use us for what?”

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