He had fitted up bells about the place, or rather strings that actuated wooden clappers which could beat on wooden drums. He set these all a-clang and listened. The place reeked of its usual mildew, and the smell nauseated him. They had got rid of the mildew scent at the Smooth River factory. But there was not a murmur of reply to his clamor. White-Man's-Trouble delivered himself of wisdom. "Oh, Carter, I think dem Smith, an' all dem boys at factory lib for die. Dis place lib for full of ghosts. I fit for run back for Smooth River." "Run away, then," said Carter, who was beginning to examine the mess-room systematically. The Krooboy cowered in a chair and covered his eyes. "Oh, Carter, I no fit for march back alone. Dem ghosts plenty-too-much fond o' Kroo chop. Oh, Carter, you no be dam fool an' stay here. You lib back for Smooth River all-e-same me." "My pagan friend, don't get too familiar. The next time I hear you calling me names, I shall break my knuckles up against one of the places where the worsted's been shaved off your skull. Observe"--said Carter, and poured some whiskey onto the table top and set light to it--"Observe those blue flames that crawl and flicker about, but do not burn the wood. In those the ghosts that have been threatening you are now being most painfully consumed. Do you believe it?" "I fit for see 'em die," said White-Man's-Trouble devoutly. "Oh, Carter, you plenty-much-fine witch doctor. I fit for pipe-clay dem shoes, three pair a day. Oh, Carter, if Okky men lib for come, you burn them, too?" "Certainly," said Carter, "anything to soothe your nerves. Though, as a matter of fact, I should demonstrate to them with a shotgun, not by burning methylated. Now, just nose around, boy, and help me to find out where Mr. Smith's evaporated to. They can't have eaten him, or some of them must have stayed behind to digest the meal; and they can't have kidnapped him, or he'd have broken up the happy home before he condescended to go, and as we see it now, it's no more squalid than usual. So now, Trouble, produce Mr. Smith." "Smith? Oh, Carter, dem Smith lib for surf boat." "How on earth do you know that?" "Dem surf boat no lib for beach. Dem paddles no lib for veranda, Okky man no fit for boat boy. So Malla-Nulla Krooboy, dey boat boy for dem Smith in Malla-Nulla surf boat. Savvy?" "I do clearly. But why the deuce didn't you tell me all this before?" "Because," said the Krooboy simply, "I too plenty-much frightened o' dem ghosts before you burn 'em."