"We'll take our chances."
"Say, I want ter tell you something. We don't say much about it round here, but most ev'rybody knows it. There was a man kem here this spring from Boston. He
heard about Devil Island being haunted, and he was jest darn fool enough to want to go down there and see the spook. He went. He got some lobster ketchers to set him ashore and wait for him. They wouldn't go ashore with him, but they stayed in the boat reddy to take him on when he got reddy to leave. He never left!"
"What happened to him?"
"Who knows? 'Bout half-a-nour arter he went ashore there was the awfullest screech of agony come from somewhere on the island. Seemed jest like a man givin' a death yell. It scart them lobster ketchers so they rowed off a piece, but they waited till dark. He never come. Then they rowed off, and nothing of that air man has ever bin seen sence."
"Didn't anybody go down to the island to see if they could find him? A tree may have fallen on him, or something of that sort."
"There was six men went down from here two days arterward, an' whut do you s'pose they found?"
"The man from Boston."
"Didn't I tell ye he hadn't never been seen sence! They found a new-made grave!"
"What was in the grave?"