“Soon as I could. ’Twan’t more dan a minute.”
“But that was time enough for an eavesdropper to slip downstairs without being caught by you. Somebody was listening there at the panel. We all saw the person. That’s why we raised a rumpus. There’s no trouble between us, Martie. Everything’s all right. But if you catch anybody listening around that slide, jump on ’em and kick them downstairs. Bring us another round of drinks. I reckon we need them. I’ll have the same, and Lynch will, too. You’d better switch off that stuff you’re drinking, Du Boise. It isn’t good for you.”
“Can’t switch now,” said Hal. “Just one more, Martie. It’ll be my last to-night. Just one more.”
When the waiter had disappeared and the door was fastened behind him Ditson came back and stood by the table, looking inquiringly at his two companions.
“Well, what do you think of it?” he finally forced himself to inquire, ineffectually trying to assume an air of nonchalance. “It certainly looked like the real thing to me, and it scared Du Boise out of his senses.”
“Then you saw something, did you?” whispered Hal. “Tell me what it was.”
“I thought I saw a face.”
“I know I saw a face,” said Lynch. “Fellows, we’re haunted! This is the first time I’ve ever acknowledged a belief in ghosts, but I’ve got to acknowledge it now. The face I saw was that of Merriwell, and we know he is lying at the bottom of the harbor.”
“Don’t talk that way—don’t!” implored Du Boise. “It was a hallucination. It could have been nothing else.”
“How does it happen that we were all deceived by the same hallucination?” questioned Ditson. “There’s something you can’t explain, Hal. You saw it first and uttered a yell. We turned and looked. I confess that I saw it as distinctly as I ever saw anything in my life. It was ghastly pale with wide-open eyes which struck terror to my heart. By Jove! I got such a start that I’m afraid I’ll never have any more nerve. I wish Martie would hurry up with those drinks. I’m still cold from my head to my heels.”