name of it?" inquired Dave Tower, all interest at once, as,
indeed, they all were.

"Don't know," said Johnny, "but I bet it's a good one."

Mess over, they adjourned to the "clubroom," a large room, roughly but
comfortably furnished with homemade easy chairs, benches and tables, and
supplied with all the reading matter in camp.

Many pairs of curious eyes turned to the phonograph in the corner as
Johnny, after winding the machine, carefully placed the disk in position,
adjusted the needle, and with a loud "A-hem!" started the machine in
motion.

There followed the usual rattle and thump as the needle cleared its way to
the record.

Every man sat bolt upright, ears and eyes strained, when from the woody
throat came the notes of a clear voice:

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest,
Yo--ho--ho, and a bottle of rum.
Fifteen men and the dark and damp,
My men 'tis better to shun."

Again the machine appeared to clear its throat.

A smile played over the faces of the men. But again the voice sang:

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest,
Yo--ho--ho, and a bottle of rum.
Fifteen men and the dark and damp,
My men 'tis better to shun."

Again came a rattle. A puzzled expression passed over Johnny's face. The
same song was repeated over and over till the record was finished.

A hoarse laugh came from one corner. It died half finished. No one joined
in the laugh. There was something uncanny about this record which had
drifted in from nowhere with its song of pirate days and of death.
Especially did it appear so, coming at such a time as this.

"Well, what do you make of it?" Johnny smiled queerly.

"It's a spirit message!" exclaimed Jarvis, "I read as 'ow Sir Oliver Lodge
'as got messages from 'is departed ones through the medium of a slate.
'Oo's to say spirits can't talk on them wax records as well. It's a
message, a warnin' to us in this 'ere day of death."

Smiles followed but no laughing. In a land such as this, every man's
opinion is respected.

"More likely some whaler made a few private records of his own singing and
gave this one to the natives," suggested Dave Tower. "They'd take it for
something to eat, but, when they tried boiling it and had no success,
they'd throw it away. That's probably what's happened and here we have the
record."

"Anyway," said the do