coming to a quick conclusion, “that caused you to dream of the ghost.” 

“What?” cried Peg, surprised. “Do you mean to say that Jerry heard the whispering voice before the Strickers came?” 

Scoop nodded, sure of himself. 

“I can’t understand it,” cried Peg, looking dizzy. “Why should a man mysteriously board our boat in the middle of the night? What object could he have had? Who was he? Why did he whisper to us, asking where we were? And where did he vanish to?” 

“It was a ghost,” I hung on. 

Scoop laughed. 

“Let it be a ghost, if you insist. We should worry, as long as it’s a friendly ghost.” 

Peg was struggling, in his slow, steady way, to get his thoughts straightened out. 

“But if the man was here in advance of the Strickers, as you say, how did he get on the boat? There was no plank then.” 

“You and Jerry ought to know more about that [31]than any one else,” shrugged Scoop, “for you were here when it happened.” Then he added, in a lighter voice: “But let’s forget about your mysterious whisperer for the present. If there’s a mystery here, we probably can solve it to-night.” 

[31]

“You think the man will come back?” 

“It isn’t unlikely.” 

Peg’s black eyes snapped. 

“Gosh! I wish it was my turn to watch.” 

“I imagine,” laughed Scoop, “that Red will be tickled pink to let you have his place.” 

“Where is Red?” I spoke up, thus reminded of our absent chum. “Why didn’t you bring him with you?” 

“What? Get that sleepy-head out of bed before eight o’clock? You must think I know how to work miracles, Jerry.” 

“I’ll stop for him on my way back,” I said, starting off abreast of Peg. 

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