He returned to the tent with joyful tidings, however.
“The yacht must have worked herself off some during the night!” he cried. “The hawsers are considerably slacker than when we saw them last, and I fancy she isn’t heeled over quite so much.”
Vance and Roy ran out of doors to assure themselves by a personal inspection that such was the case, and the former said, after looking scrutinizingly at the little steamer:
“I think you are right, Ned, and I sincerely hope so. If that craft was afloat I wouldn’t sleep another night on this island. I can stand a good deal, but when it comes to living where dead men are prowling around, then I get more than I need.”
“You surely are not foolish enough to believe that what we heard last night was caused by those wretches whom we buried,” Roy said in surprise.
“Tell me what else could have made the noise, and I’ll own up to being foolish.”
“Of course I can’t do that; but this much I’ve got sense enough left to understand, that there’s no such things as ghosts.”
“Then what made the noise?”
Roy turned away unwilling to continue such a profitless conversation, and Ned said decidedly:
“If it is heard again I’ll get at the bottom of the mystery, or know the reason why. We should have gone directly outside when the noise was first heard.”