undoubtedly a ship's boat; and, being a ship's boat, was probably built
of hard wood, and therefore vastly superior to the spruce boats of the
fishermen.

Abel had fully satisfied himself upon these points before, keenly
expectant, he at length rowed alongside the derelict. Grasping its
gunwale to steady himself, he was about to step aboard when, with an
exclamation of astonishment and horror, he released his hold upon the
gunwale and resumed his seat in the skiff.

Stretched in the boat lay the body of a man. In the man's side was a
great gaping wound, and his clothing and the boat were spattered and
smeared with blood. The man was dead. In the fixed, cold stare of his
wide-open eyes was a look of hopeless appeal, and the ghastly terror of
one who had beheld some awful vision.




CHAPTER II

THE MYSTERY AND BOBBY


Abel had often seen death before. He had seen men drowned, men who had
frozen to death, men accidentally shot to death, and men who had died
naturally and comfortably in their beds. It was, therefore, not the
sight of death that startled him, but the horror and tragic appeal in
the dead man's staring eyes. It was uncanny and supernatural.