as a bright red
object rose apparently from the water and glided up into the air.
Ascending probably to a height of forty yards, the watchers saw the
lurid ball fade away. The investigating party had seen all they wanted.
They made a mad rush for the boat, but, just as they reached the place
where it had been left, they were horrified to see the little craft
moving out on the water from the island. At first its only occupant
seemed to be the red ball of fire, but the next moment the watchers saw
the crimson object gradually take the form of a man, and they saw him,
too, dip the oars at regular intervals and pull a long, steady stroke.
The man's features were fully concealed by a wide-rimmed slouch hat,
which was drawn over his face. A peculiar light illumined the boat and
the waters around it, making the craft and its mysterious occupant
perfectly discernible to the party on the shore, who stood paralyzed
with fear, unable to speak or move, their eyes riveted by some
mysterious influence they could not resist on the spectral object before
them.
The boat was now about in midstream, and suddenly the group of watchers
saw the skiff's occupant change again into the crimson ball. Then it
slowly began to move upward, and when it was about parallel with the
tops of the trees on the island it disappeared. Next instant the
watchers looking across the river saw nothing but the flickering lights
in Hardin.
The cries of the crowd on the island awakened a sleeping fisherman on
the opposite side of the river, and he kindly pulled across and rescued
the ghost-seeking youths. The fiery spook, it is said, still makes its
nightly trips to Diamond Island, but no more investigating parties have
ventured across to solve the mystery.
It is said that some years ago a foul murder was committed on this
island, and by the superstitious the crimson object is believed to be
the restless spirit of the slain man.
THE GHOST'S FULL HOUSE
(N.Y. _Sun_, April 10, 1891)
The Bleecker street ghost drew as large a "house" last night as Barnum's
Circus or any of the theaters. There was a bigger crowd about
"Cohnfeld's Folly" than there was three weeks ago when the flames gutted
the buildings from Mercer to Greene streets and did damage away up in
the millions. The wraith was not due till midnight, but the street was
packed with watchers as early as 9 o'clock. The crowd was so dense that
pedestrians with difficulty forced their way through it a
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