“The commodore, hearing the row and fearing disaster, ordered another boat to the rescue, but ere it reached the spot, Buck had, in some manner, quieted his men, who, seeing the ghost still standing bolt upright in the water and dancing away as if nothing had happened to scare him, manned their oars again and pulled cautiously toward him; while he, with that changeable moonlight grin on his face, was bobbing up and down to the boat’s crew, as if Buck were the commodore himself coming to pay him a visit.

“‘Stand by, there in the bow, to hook on to him,’ sang out Buck.

“‘Ay, ay, sir!  I’ll fix him;’ and with that, and a heavy expletive in regard to the old fellow’s eyes, the bow oarsman slammed his boarding-pike right into the ghost, just abaft his left leg, and as the sharp steel touched the body, a whizzing sound, like the escape of steam, was heard, and without a word old Sadler vanished from sight for ever.”

“But, captain, tell us what really brought the old gentleman back,” said one of the auditors.

“Well, just think of that tight white hammock, the light weight of the shot, and the very hot weather—­think, too, how easily a fishing-cork is balanced in the water by a very small sinker, and lastly how confined air will buoy up anything—­and you have the whole secret of his coming back.  Let that air suddenly escape, and you have the secret of his disappearance.

“Buck used to say that ‘priority of discovery’ was a good thing in the days of Columbus, but if it was to be continued in force in the United States navy, hang him if he should ever report another ghost, even if he should see him walking the quarter-deck with the speaking-trumpet under his arm.”

R. D. MINOR.