ctor, "if he's a sailor, you'll have to admit he had
a very fine voice."

There the matter was dropped. But Johnny took it up again before he slept.
He could not help feeling that this was sent as a warning not from the
spirit world, but from some living person. Who that person might be, he
had no sort of notion. And the message gave no clue. He repeated it slowly
to himself.

"What could you make out of that?" he mumbled.

Then he turned over in his deer-skin bag and went to sleep.

CHAPTER III

A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT

"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."

For the fiftieth time Johnny heard those words ground out by the record
that had rolled down the hill to meet him. Fifty times he had searched in
vain for its meaning. For that it was not chance that had sent it rolling
to his feet, but purpose, the mysterious purpose of an unknown some one,
he was certain.

If the man had something to say to him, why did he not say it? Why veil
his meaning in an apparently senseless song? It was getting on his
nerves.

He sprang to his feet and began pacing the floor. For the first time since
the record came into his hands, he had an idea. Somewhere, he had read
part of that song, perhaps all. But where? He could not think.

He came to a stand beside Dave Tower, who was reading.

"Dave," he exclaimed, "part of that song, or all of it, is printed in a
book. What book is it?"

"Your memory's poor," grinned Dave, "'Treasure Island,' of course--only
the first two lines, though. It's the song the old one-legged pirate used
to sing."

"Sure," smiled Johnny.

Turning, he left the room.

In a moment he had his parka down over his head and was out in the open
air. He wanted to think.

The yellow light of the moon was cut here and there by dark purple shadows
of the night. Not a breath stirred. He walked slowly up the hill, watching
the golden streamers of the northern lights streaking across the sky. It
was a perfect night. And yet, it was to be marred all too soon.

"Fifteen men and the dark and damp,
My men 'tis better to shun."

Johnny repeated the last two lines of the song. So these were the words
the mysterious singer had improvised to sing with those which were well
known by every live American