He returned to the upper room and replaced the lantern, and immediately redescended to the storehouse.

The detective had a masked lantern with him, having secured it while abiding a few hours at the home of his guide, Taylor.

Spencer Vance had determined to hide himself in the smugglers’ underground warehouse.  He had reached the conclusion that he could find no safer place.

Spencer Vance had struck a big scheme.  Even while in such great peril, and while busy, he was revolving in his mind all the chances and contingencies; but over all loomed the possibility of discovery.  There was no friendly sea to receive him should those men find him secreted in their treasure den.

The detective was like a man walking in a suspected coal mine with a lighted torch, who at any moment might strike a chamber filled with the fatal gas, which coming in contact with the light, would have blown man and mine to smithereens.

Meantime the search continued on the island, and the detective was rejoiced as he saw that, after all, the discovery of his presence was a most excellent thing, as it would lead to the eventual discovery of the real smugglers, through means which will be described later on.

Vance had measured every step as he progressed, and knew just where he would fetch out, provided he once got away from the island; but there, as stated, loomed the chance against him.  His opportunity would depend largely upon the decision of Ike Denman after the return of his searching parties.

One of the searching parties was moving along looking for a trail, when a cry from one of their number brought the squad together.  The man had stumbled upon the strapped and gagged smuggler.

There was a circus for a few moments after the discovery, and there followed some loud swearing, not low; but deep, fast and furious.

The man had been gagged so long it was some minutes before he could relate his sad tale.

One of the men said to him: 

“Who served you out, Jim?”

When the man found voice he answered: 

“The devil or one of his imps.”

“Hello! did you see the ghost”

“What ghost?”

“The ghost of Ballard.”

“I don’t know anything about the ghost of Ballard, but I had a rough scrimmage with the gamest man I ever tackled.”

“Didn’t you recognize him?”

“No.”

“I wonder if there are two of ’em on the island?”

“What’s happened, boys?”

“Well, it’s looking as though the devil himself were loose tonight.”

The man proceeded and told how another of their crew had met the island mystery, and had been half drowned by him.

“I tell you,” said the man, “it’s going to stand us in hand to get that fellow on; the game is all dead against us, and we’ll whistle for our share of prize-money.”

“Come along with us and we may find our man; you can identify him?”