queer gestures, as he danced about and doubled
himself up in his wild convulsions of mirth, were absolutely
irresistible; and so we all roared in concert, like a party of lunatics,
laughing until the tears actually ran down our cheeks.

"An' how did yer fix the hull thing so smartly?" inquired the American,
presently when he was able to speak. "Ye took me in finely, I guess; ye
did thet so!"

"Lor', old ship! that were easy enough, when you comes to think of it."

"But, how?" persisted Hiram, as Tom broke off his explanation to indulge
in another laugh. "Hyar's Sam, what was ded, alive agen an' kickin', ez
my shins ken tell, I reckon! How about his hauntin' the shep, an' all
thet?"

"Yes, Tom," I put in here; "how was it that he wasn't killed?"

"Oh, Sam 'll explain all about his bizness," replied Tom, laughing
again, the ridiculous nature of the whole thing appealing strongly to
his risible faculties. "I've got enough to do to tell you about my own
ghost--the sperrit, that is, of the black man that our second-mate spun
that yarn about yesterday arternoon!"

"A-ah!" drawled out Hiram; "I begins to smell a rat, I dew."

"But, suah dat 'perrit wasn't reel, hey, Mass' Tom?" interposed Sam, his
eyeballs starting again out of his head, as he recollected all the
mysterious occurrences in the cave. "Dat 'perrit wasn't reel, hey?
I'se take um fo' duppy, suah?"

"No, ye durned fule!" exclaimed Hiram, quite indignantly; "don't ye know
thet?"

"Some people weren't so wise just now," said Tom Bullover dryly; "eh,
Hiram?"

"Nary mind 'bout thet," growled the American, giving Tom a dig in the
ribs playfully. "Heave ahead with yer yarn, or we'll never git in the
slack of it 'fore nightfall!"

"Well then, here's the long and short of it," said Tom, sitting down on
the top of the little cliff-mound, so as to make himself as comfortable
as possible, while we stood grouped around him. "You see, now, our
Dutch mate's story about the nigger that the buccaneers used to bury
with their treasure put me up to taking a rise out of our friend Sambo
here, who, though he was artful enough to play at being a ghost and
haunt the ship, as you fellows thought all through the v'yage, was yet
mortal 'fraid of them same ghostesses hisself, as I well knowed!"

"Oh, Lor', Mass' Tom, dunno say dat," interrupted Sam reproachfully.
"Speak fo' true, an' shame de debble!"

"That's just what I'm doing, darkey. You know I'm speaking the tr