“No ghost did that!” exclaimed Nicky.
“I don’t—know,” Sam said, weakly. “They tell, on the island, that ghosts have terrible power. I never did believe much in it, but—I don’t know—now!”
“Well, I do know!” declared Mr. Neale defiantly. “Your part of the map is gone, of course!”
“Yes, sar—yes——”
“Of course! Does that seem like the work of a ghost?”
“It might be!” Sam said uncertainly. He drank the water Nicky had brought him, and seemed to be pulling himself together, but his age-old instinct of fear was beginning to triumph over his education.
“At any rate,” Mr. Gray summed up, “whatever and whoever did these things, the result amounts to this: neither Sam nor we have any clue to the treasure——”
“You wouldn’t let that stop you, would you?” demanded Nicky.
“I wouldn’t, if Father would let us go on,” Cliff stated.
“Nor I,” agreed Clarence Neale. “We can remember the map closely enough—we know the longitude—we could even cable Nicky’s uncle and get the original if necessary——”