At last the ghosts were ready. Raynor’s heart beat rather faster than was comfortable as they crept out upon the heaving, tossing decks. If their plan failed, and Terror Carson discovered it, a terrible fate might be in store for them. A strong wind whistled about them and a dash of rain beat in their faces.
“Gee! It is pretty bad, fer a fact,� declared Noddy. “Well, let’s get along to the stern.� They proceeded cautiously, doubled up under the shadow of the bulwark till they reached the break in the stern. Then, with an appalling yell, Noddy dashed up the steps leading on to the raised poop where the helmsman stood. Raynor was close behind him. Noddy’s shriek was echoed by a shout of alarm from Pompey.
“Gollyumptions! Ghostesses! De good lawd hab mussey on mah soul! Oh, Massa, ghostesses don’ hurt me! Wow!�
A wild yell of fear came from the trembling Pompey as Noddy raised a flaming hand and pointed straight at him. Pompey dropped the spokes of the wheel and dashed forward, leaping the break of the poop in one jump. At the same instant the schooner “broached to� as her helm was deserted. The canvas flapped wildly and she rolled in the trough of the seas. A giant wave broke over her bow with a sound like thunder.
At the same instant, from below, came a stentorian shout like the roar of an angry bull.
“On deck, there! What in the name of Davy Jones is the matter?�
“That’s Terror Carson!� cried Noddy. “Come on, let’s get forward. No escape for us to-night.�
The two boys rushed toward the bow just in time to avoid Carson, who came rushing on deck followed by his mate. They bolted into Noddy’s sanctum in time to avoid the crew, who came tumbling up the fore-hatchway, and hastily removed their shrouds and washed off the phosphorus. Then they ran out and mingled with the crowd on deck as if they had just been aroused by the confusion.
It was a wild scene on the deck of the Polly Ann. Carson himself had seized the tiller and was holding the craft on her course, but two sails had been ripped and a lot of water shipped over the bow. The boys came out just in time to see some sailors dragging Pompey aft from the galley, where he had taken refuge from what he thought were supernatural visitors.
The black was beside himself with fear of Terror Carson and alarm at what he had seen. He stammered out incoherent explanations about being scared from the wheel by “ghostesses.� Carson roared savagely at him. He declared he had a good mind to have him flogged. But finally he commuted the sentence to two days in irons. The boys felt conscience-stricken at having involved poor Pompey in such a quandary, yet they could not have made explanations without making matters worse.