"Yes, and he'd stand just as much chance of
getting out alive. I'll get him. He got away from Palm Island into
the swamp. Punctured your friend Ramos in doing so." His laugh rolled
over the water like the growl of a bear. "In fact, punctured him so
successfully that we had to cover Mr. Ramos with three feet of dirt to
cheat the buzzards.--White, is that you?"
"Yessir."
"Well, White, you do your best for Mr. Payne. He's in a hurry to get
his ditches dug. Do your best for him for he's a particular friend of
mine--and of some one else." He laughed again, shouted an order, and
the Egret leaped past them and on down the river.
"Ghost boat, ghost boat!" The Haiti black, back on the scow, waking up
from his sleep, had stared full in the eye of the Egret's searchlight,
and now was staggering round, terror-stricken and dazed.
"Knock him down somebody," called White calmly.
"Ghost boat, ghost boat!"
"Where?"
"Down the--uh! Oh, _ma Dieu_!"
The Egret and her light had disappeared round a bend and the negro was
pointing at the empty moonlit river. Hoots of laughter greeted him.
"Guess you got 'em, Sam. No other boat round here."
"_Ma Dieu_! Ah seen him. Yoh gen'men sho' they wasn't no boat?"
"You're raving. No boat at all."
"Oh--Oh----!"
"Shut up!" cried White.
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