The old man laughed; but he shot a significant glance at the storekeeper, who made a quick motion indicating silence. Harry detected this, and was too curious to let the matter pass.
“What’s the island like?” he questioned.
The proprietor did not reply; but the old man took advantage of the opening wedge in the conversation.
“They call it ‘Death Island,’” he replied.
“Why?”
“I don’t just know. It’s always been called Death Island. But lately it’s been kinda livin’ up to the name they give it.”
“How’s that?”
“They say two men have died there in the past six months. Ain’t nobody seems absolutely sure about it; the coroner knows, I s’pose. He’s been out to see the professor. But it’s been kept kinda hushed.”
“So Professor Whitburn does not live alone?”
“No, sir. He’s got three or four men out there with him. Don’t know none of ‘em. All strangers round here. That’s what we can’t just figger.