But his appearance of ridicule did not disguise the fact that he had been impressed by the story of the hunchback.
"Devil Island alwus hes bin haunted," declared one of the listeners. "That's why it's deserted ter-day. The quarry ain't worked out, but the big boardin' house stands empty on the island; the house ain't occupied——"
"Sence that woman from Rockland lived in it," broke in another.
"She didn't live there long. I guess she saw things on the island that made her reddy to git off."
"Queer freak for a woman to live there all alone, anyhow," observed Jeb. "We used to see her round the house or on the shore when we run down past the island, but all to once she was gone."
"Sence then," put in a man who had not spoken before, "I've seen lights in the winders of the old boardin' house at night and in the winders of the other house, though I've never ketched a glimp of a livin' critter movin' on the island by day."
"Oh, it's haunted," nodded the one who had declared so before. "Anybody what wants to can go foolin' round there, but I'm goin' to keep away."
He rose to his feet. He was tall and thin, with a broken nose that seemed to tell the story of some fierce fight at an island dance. His starboard eye was crooked, so that it was difficult to tell just which way he was looking. He took in a fresh chew of tobacco and slouched out of the hotel.
"This is a place to see odd characters," said Merriwell.
Browning nodded.