“Cap’n Halstead, he ain’ on board!” wailed Ham Mockus. Then, in a greater outburst of terror, he screamed hoarsely:
“Dat ain’ de worst! De Ghost ob Alligator Swamp am on board—Ah done seen it so close dat Ah s’pec it reach out an’ grab me!”
Though none of the passengers believed in ghosts, this information, at such a time, was enough to make them gasp.
“Wut Ah done tell yo’?” roared Ham, his voice deepening in the frenzy of his terror. “Ah tole yo’-all dat ole Marse Satan gwine ride on dis great wind ter-night! He sho’ is doin’ dat. Oh, Lawdy!”
Slipping from the grasp of Henry Tremaine, Ham Mockus sank groveling to the floor.
CHAPTER III
THE MYSTERY OF THE NIGHT
“COME, get up, you imp!” roared Mr. Tremaine, angrily, as he bent over. He seized the steward by the collar, and dragged that frightened individual to his feet.
“Ham, you simpleton, there’s no such thing as a ghost,” uttered Mr. Tremaine, sharply.