“I know they are!” replied the old merchant. “And I’ll tell you why. Those lights never fail to appear on the anniversary of the wrecking of the boat.
“The Mary Ann went down ten years ago to-night, and on every anniversary of the drowning of those two hundred people, the three blue lights are seen rising over the exact place where she sank.”
“That’s remarkable!” exclaimed the boy.
“Those who were drowned,” the merchant continued, “went down in their sins. They were dancing to the devil’s music when they sank. Their bodies rest uneasily on the bottom of the river, for none of them were ever found.”
“Why, that’s singular!” Alex remarked. “It would seem that the bodies might have been recovered.”
“They never have been found,” was the reply. “River men say they were carried off by an undercurrent and whirled down into the Mississippi, but I believe the bodies are in there yet.”
“And every anniversary of their death, they show three blue lights, do they?” asked the boy wonderingly.
“Three blue lights!” said the old man, “and after the three blue lights, the explosion. I have watched for the lights and the noise every night for nine years and I have never failed to see and hear.”
“And trouble always comes after the exhibition?” queried the boy. “Then there is another mystery for the crew of the Rambler to solve.”