The men whirled about. For a second silence too deep for words hung over the place.
“Oh, all right,” one of the men grumbled. “You got us. We don’t fight spooks. That was the Galloping Ghost.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts.” Drew switched on his flashlight. “Now, then, you fellows sit right down there in the corner, and I’ll tell you what we want you for, and why.
“No, I won’t.” His voice changed as his eyes roved the room. “Where’s the Red Rover and that girl, Berley Todd? Come, now! Quick! Where are they?” The steel in his gun was not harder than the ring in his voice.
“Honest—” The man known as Spike O’Connor, a bad one according to his own previous estimation, was shaking. “Honest, we don’t know.”
“Don’t know?” Drew’s finger trembled at the trigger.
“Fact!” the other man put in hastily. “Got away from us, they did, more’n three days ago. We sent out a man to look for them. He didn’t come back. We sent out two more. They didn’t come back. I tell you, this island gets ’em! Ghosts and all that.” The way this bad man trembled was good to see.
“Perhaps I might be able to help you,” came from the doorway. Johnny whirled about to find himself staring into a pair of friendly eyes that gleamed beneath a ten-gallon hat. Ed, the scout, had caught up with them at last.
“They’ve been with me until to-night, the Red Rover and Berley Todd have.” The scout advanced to the center of the room. “Now unless that squall we had an hour or two ago took ’em out to sea, they should be on Passage Island where there are civilized human beings.”
“In that case,” said Drew, spinning about, “we’ve got to fly over to Passage Island. And that on the double quick! Can’t let this get out.