oung Benson had heard a good deal about these clever old colored
frauds. In spite of his contempt, the submarine boy found himself
interested. He had heard about the charms, spells, incantations and other
humbugs practised on colored dupes and on some credulous whites by these
greatest of all quacks. The voodoo methods of "healing" are brought out of
the deepest jungles of darkest Africa, yet there are many ignorant people,
even among the whites, who believe steadfastly in the "cures" wrought by
the voodoo.

While the mulatto guide was talking, or answering Jack's half-amused
questions, the cab left Annapolis further and further behind.

"Yo' see, sah," the guide went on, "Marse Truax wa'n't in no fit
condition, sah, to try de strongest voodoo medicine dat he called fo'. So,
w'ile de voodoo was sayin' his strongest chahms, Marse Truax done fall
down, frothin' at de mouth. He am some bettah, now, sah, but he kain't be
move' from de voodoo's house 'cept by a frien'."

"I'll get a chance to see one of these old voodoo frauds, anyway," Jack
told himself. "This new experience will be worth the time it keeps me out
of my bed. What a pity Hal missed a queer old treat like this!"

When the cab at last stopped, Benson looked out to find that the place was
well down a lonely country road, well lined with trees on either side. The
house, utterly dark from the outside, was a ramshackle, roomy old affair.

"Shall Ah wait fo' yo'?" asked the old colored driver.

"Yes, wait for me," directed Jack, briefly.

"Yeah; wait fo' de gemmun. He's all right," volunteered the mulatto.

"Mebbe yo' kin see some voodoo wo'k, too, ef yo's int'rested," hinted the
guide, in a whisper, as he fitted a key to a lock, and swung a door open.
In a hallway stood a lighted lantern, which the guide picked up.

"Now, go quiet-lak, on tip-toe. Sh!" cautioned the guide, himself moving
stealthily into the nearest room. Jack Benson began to feel secretly
awestruck and "creepy," though he was too full of grit to betray the fact.

At the further end of the room the guide, holding the lantern behind his
body as though by accident, threw open another door.

"Pass right on through dis room, ahead ob me, sah," begged the guide,
respectfully.

But Jack drew back, instinctively, out of the darkness.

"Don' yo', a w'ite man, be 'fraid ob ole voodoo house," advised the
mulatto, still speaking respectfully.

Afraid? Of course not. Relying on his muscle and his