“Hark!” exclaimed Bob.
“It’s the Professor,” said Jerry.
“Maybe he’s found his toad, and it’s bitten him,” was Ned’s contribution.
“Boys! Boys, come here!” called the professor, and the three lads rushed from the cabin.
“What is it?” asked Jerry. “Where are you?”
“In front of the ship,” came the answer. Then they saw the gleam of his light, and hurried toward him.
“Look!” exclaimed the scientist in a whisper, and, as he pointed toward the middle of the island, whence arose that curious pinnacle of rock, the three chums saw several tall and ghostly shapes swirling slowly at them. Curious shapes they were, like tall beings wrapped in trailing clothes, with their long, thin arms raised as if in warning, and about them seemed to cling, like an enveloping haze, a weird, purplish light. The strange shapes seemed blown onward by the night wind.
“What—what are they?” gasped Bob in a whisper.
“Ghosts, I guess,” answered Jerry, with a half-hearted laugh. “The ghosts of Snake Island.”