With rather disturbed nerves, and pulses that beat faster than usual, the boys followed Captain Akers aft. The door of the deck-house was unlocked and swung on its hinges rhythmically as the ship swayed on the rise and fall of the bosom of the Pacific.
"You go first," whispered Joe, shoving Nat forward.
"Well, I like that——" began Nat indignantly, but neither of the boys was required to test his nerve by being the first to enter the place. Captain Akers spared them that.
With a quick, light step, the old seaman made his way within, followed by the awe-struck boys.
But if they had expected to see anything remarkable in the cabin, they were disappointed. It was an entirely ordinary place. In the center, a swinging table covered with a red cloth. A few books on navigation of the Pacific were stuck on a shelf in one corner. Two staterooms opened off it astern, evidently for the occupancy of the captain and mate. But an investigation of these yielded no more results than had their scrutiny of the outer cabin.
The bed clothes in the bunks were tumbled about as if the occupants had left hastily and several articles of clothing lay scattered about in the same helter-skelter fashion. But that was all.
"No use looking any further here," announced Captain Akers, after a thorough examination of the place had been made. "This cabin is just such a one as you might find on board any schooner plying this ocean. I guess we were fooling ourselves on the mystery part of this."
"How about those screams?" asked Nat quickly.
Captain Akers looked rather foolish.
"By Jove, I forgot those!" he exclaimed. "That's so, they were terrible cries, but for all that this schooner shows to the contrary; we must have dreamed we heard them. I think——"