co about the place, as if some one had been there recently
smoking.

The American, however, was indignant at the bare suggestion of this.

"What d'yer take me fur, Cholly," he said. "I tell ye I seed him
a-sottin' down thaar in thet corner, an' heerd the banjo ez plain ez if
it wer a-playin' now! Look at the fire, too; ain't that streenge? It
wer jest a-staggerin' out when I comed hyar fur to put on some more wood
to make it burn up, an' thaar it air now, ez if some one hez jest been
a-lightin' on it!"

It was as he said. The fire seemed to have been fresh lit, for there
was even a piece of smouldering paper in the stoke hole.

It was certainly most mysterious, if Hiram had not done it, which he
angrily asserted he had not, quite annoyed at my doubting his word.

While I was debating the point with him, Tom Bullover appeared at the
door, with his usual cheerful grin.

"Hullo!" cried he; "what's the row between you two?"

Thereupon Hiram and I both spoke at once, he telling his version of the
story and I mine.

"Well, don't let such foolish nonsense make you ill friends," said Tom,
grinning. "I dare say you're both right, if matters could only be
explained--Hiram, in thinking he saw Sam's ghost, and you, Charley, in
believing he dreamt it all out of his head. As for the fire burning up,
I can tell you all about that, for seeing it just at the last gasp, I
stuck in a bit of paper and wood to light it, so as to be more cheerful.
I likewise lit my own pipe arterwards, which fully accounts for what
you fellows couldn't understand."

"Thaar!" exclaimed Hiram triumphantly; "I tolled you so, Cholly."

"All right," I retorted. "It's just as I said, and there's nothing
mysterious about it."

Each of us remained of his own opinion, but Tom Bullover chaffed us out
of all further argument, and we presently followed the example of the
other hands, who were asleep snoring in the fo'c's'le, and turned into
our bunks; while Tom went aft to relieve Jan Steenbock as look-out,
there being no necessity for all of the watch to be on deck, the ship
being ashore, and safer even than if she had been at anchor.

In the morning, I was roused up by the cooing doves again, and the very
first man I met after turning out was Morris Jones, who looked seedy and
tired out, as if he had been awake all night.

"What's the matter?" I asked him, as he came into the galley, where I
was busy at my morning duty, getting the coppers fille