CHAPTER XXVII.
Spencer Vance had not been idle while in the subterranean warehouse; but, with his masked lantern, he had gone about, and, in a regular business-like manner, had made an inventory of the merchandise scattered about; and he had also copied all the shipping-marks and also all the hieroglyphic brush signs. He furthermore opened some of the cases, and put identification marks on some of the goods indeed, he did his work in a thorough and masterly manner. He had accomplished wonders; but he was not yet safely off the island.
Later on the detective made some startling and ghastly discoveries. He came upon a box containing human bones, and he was sufficiently experienced to recognize that, in the case of the remains, ordinary, decay had been supplemented by artificial processes, and the latter discovery was a prima facie testimony in favor of the theory that the bones were those of murdered victims.
Our hero was still rummaging around when his attention was attracted by human voices, and, closing the slide of his lantern, he laid low and watched, and, a moment later, became aware that some of the crew of the "Nancy" were in the warehouse.
"I wonder," he muttered, "if they have came to look for me here? If they have, I reckon I'm in a tight place!"
The detective crawled toward the place where the smugglers were gathered, and he overheard their conversation.
One of them remarked.
"It's all nonsense to look for him in here."
"If it is Ballard, or Spencer Vance, I'd look for him in my vest pocket; either one of those men would dare to go anywhere."
"Well, search," commanded Ike Denman.