handle of the electric signals and turned it back again, causing it to ring thrice. An instant later came the three answering rings, and a few moments afterwards the long cloud of dense black smoke whirling from the funnel told us that Mike Flanagan was about to get all the work out of his boilers that he dared.

Seal roared an order in the howling wind, and a tiny, coal-grimed flag ran up to the mast-head and fluttered in the breeze, while with eyes glued to his glass he watched if any response were given to his signal.

But there was none.

News of something unusual had spread among the crew, and a few moments later the first mate, Thorpe, whose watch had ended an hour before, sprang up the ladder to the skipper’s side.

“Look, Joe!” exclaimed Seal. “What the dickens do you make out o’ that?”

Thorpe swung his body with the motion of the vessel and took a long look at the object of mystery.

“Thunder, cap’n!” he cried. “Looks like Noah’s Ark, sir.”

By this time the smutty-faced crew, in their dirty blue trousers and sea-boots, had emerged from the forecastle and stood gazing in the direction of the mystery, heedless of the waves that now and then swept the deck from stem to stern. Some of the men shaded their eyes with horny hands, and the opinions expressed were both forcible and various.

Job Seal borrowed a fusee from me and lit his foul-smelling pipe, a habit of his when puzzled. With his blackened clay between his teeth he talked to Thorpe, while the spray showered in our faces and the vessel rose and fell in the long trough of the sea.

Again and again he sighted the object which his sea-trained eyes had so quickly detected, and each time growled in dissatisfaction.

At length, in a voice quite unusual to him, and with all the brown gone out of his face, he said: —

“There’s something very uncanny about that blessed craft, doctor! I’ve been afloat these thirty-three years come August, but I never saw such a tarnation funny thing as that before! I believe it’s the Flyin’ Dutchman, as true as I’m here on my own bridge!”

Flyin’ Dutchman

He handed me the binocular again, and steadying myself carefully I managed to focus it.

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