the pirates?”
Two Line Parker chuckled. “Sure, but for a long time they couldn’t catch ‘em. Those pirates was smart. They used shallow boats so they could sneak into the narrow channels of the Keys. They’d hole up there, after they’d made a raid. The big ships couldn’t follow ’em. They’d have grounded if they had.”
Jack asked who finally got rid of the pirates.
“Commodore Parker, back in 1824. He built a fleet o’ barges and some light-draft schooners. Went after them pirates and cleaned ’em out in no time.”
“And that was the last of the pirates?” Fran asked.
Two Line Parker smiled wryly. “I wouldn’t say that. Ever hear of the Florida reef wreckers?”
The girls shook their heads.
“I used to know a couple of ‘em myself. Wrecking captains, they was called. Here ’em talk, you’d think they was kind and honest. They’d keep boats ready. When there was a wreck, they’d sail out and rescue the folks on the doomed ship.”
“What was wrong with that?” Jack wanted to know.
Two Line Parker snorted. “It wasn’t just the folks they wanted to save, Jack. It was the cargo. Why, there was plenty of wreckers in the old days, what would lure ships onto the reefs at night with false signals. Wreck ’em on purpose, for the cargo.”
“How horrible!” Nancy cried indignantly.
“So you see, all sorts of things have happened on the Keys. Treasure hid and treasure stolen, I reckon. Any special Key you were thinkin’ of, young lady?”
“Do you know of a Black Key?”
Two Line Parker scratched his head. “Never heard tell of that one. I could name you hundreds. But Black Key—”
Then suddenly the old fisherman remembered something. “I tell you what, though. There’s that Key where the Black Falcon was sunk, back in the eighties, in a hurricane. I never heard a name for it, but Black Key’d be a good name on account of the Black Falcon.”
Nancy was very excited now. This might be the place for which she was searching!
“But if I were you, young lady, I’d—” Two Line paused, shaking his head.
“You’d what?” Nancy prompted him.
“I’d stay away from there—I’d stay as far away as I could get!”
CHAPTER XVI
A Burned Letter
INSTEAD of being frightened by the fisherman’s warning, Nancy found her curiosity aroused about the island. She asked Two Line Parker why he had advised her to stay away from it.
“Stories they tell,” he answered. “The place is haunted, some folks think. Take that ship, the Black Falcon, the night she sank. I’ve heard Indians talk about it. They say a fire rose up out of her even when she was under water. And after that it rained frogs.”
“Frogs?” echoed Jack Walker, and Nancy wondered if the old man’s mind were not wandering.
“You don’t believe me,” Two Line said. “Well, it ain’t just me that says so. It’s writ down, sure enough, in a book.”
“Who wrote it down?” Nancy asked suspiciously.
Two Line nodded his head wisely. “Old sailor down here. Dead now. Lived on the Keys for years, just writin’ everything down. Stories the Indians told mostly. He knew their language like his own, and Spanish, too.”
The old man’s final sentence caught Nancy’s attention.
“Who was he? What was his name?” she queried.
“Evans, they called him. Never knew his first name. He went everywheres listenin’ to stories and writin’ ’em down.”
“Had he been a sea captain?” Nancy asked excitedly.
“I don’t rightly know. Never talked about himself. When I knowed him, he’d lived around here for years.”
“And he kept a diary?”
“Maybe that’s what it was. He made drawin‘s, too. He’d fool hours away, adrawin’ and ascriblin’. But he’d never show that book of his to nobody.”
The old man babbled on about Indians, pirates, and shipwrecks, but Nancy kept thinking about Evans, and the “book” he kept. It could very well be the diary Mrs. Wangell had in her possession!
“What
Two Line Parker chuckled. “Sure, but for a long time they couldn’t catch ‘em. Those pirates was smart. They used shallow boats so they could sneak into the narrow channels of the Keys. They’d hole up there, after they’d made a raid. The big ships couldn’t follow ’em. They’d have grounded if they had.”
Jack asked who finally got rid of the pirates.
“Commodore Parker, back in 1824. He built a fleet o’ barges and some light-draft schooners. Went after them pirates and cleaned ’em out in no time.”
“And that was the last of the pirates?” Fran asked.
Two Line Parker smiled wryly. “I wouldn’t say that. Ever hear of the Florida reef wreckers?”
The girls shook their heads.
“I used to know a couple of ‘em myself. Wrecking captains, they was called. Here ’em talk, you’d think they was kind and honest. They’d keep boats ready. When there was a wreck, they’d sail out and rescue the folks on the doomed ship.”
“What was wrong with that?” Jack wanted to know.
Two Line Parker snorted. “It wasn’t just the folks they wanted to save, Jack. It was the cargo. Why, there was plenty of wreckers in the old days, what would lure ships onto the reefs at night with false signals. Wreck ’em on purpose, for the cargo.”
“How horrible!” Nancy cried indignantly.
“So you see, all sorts of things have happened on the Keys. Treasure hid and treasure stolen, I reckon. Any special Key you were thinkin’ of, young lady?”
“Do you know of a Black Key?”
Two Line Parker scratched his head. “Never heard tell of that one. I could name you hundreds. But Black Key—”
Then suddenly the old fisherman remembered something. “I tell you what, though. There’s that Key where the Black Falcon was sunk, back in the eighties, in a hurricane. I never heard a name for it, but Black Key’d be a good name on account of the Black Falcon.”
Nancy was very excited now. This might be the place for which she was searching!
“But if I were you, young lady, I’d—” Two Line paused, shaking his head.
“You’d what?” Nancy prompted him.
“I’d stay away from there—I’d stay as far away as I could get!”
CHAPTER XVI
A Burned Letter
INSTEAD of being frightened by the fisherman’s warning, Nancy found her curiosity aroused about the island. She asked Two Line Parker why he had advised her to stay away from it.
“Stories they tell,” he answered. “The place is haunted, some folks think. Take that ship, the Black Falcon, the night she sank. I’ve heard Indians talk about it. They say a fire rose up out of her even when she was under water. And after that it rained frogs.”
“Frogs?” echoed Jack Walker, and Nancy wondered if the old man’s mind were not wandering.
“You don’t believe me,” Two Line said. “Well, it ain’t just me that says so. It’s writ down, sure enough, in a book.”
“Who wrote it down?” Nancy asked suspiciously.
Two Line nodded his head wisely. “Old sailor down here. Dead now. Lived on the Keys for years, just writin’ everything down. Stories the Indians told mostly. He knew their language like his own, and Spanish, too.”
The old man’s final sentence caught Nancy’s attention.
“Who was he? What was his name?” she queried.
“Evans, they called him. Never knew his first name. He went everywheres listenin’ to stories and writin’ ’em down.”
“Had he been a sea captain?” Nancy asked excitedly.
“I don’t rightly know. Never talked about himself. When I knowed him, he’d lived around here for years.”
“And he kept a diary?”
“Maybe that’s what it was. He made drawin‘s, too. He’d fool hours away, adrawin’ and ascriblin’. But he’d never show that book of his to nobody.”
The old man babbled on about Indians, pirates, and shipwrecks, but Nancy kept thinking about Evans, and the “book” he kept. It could very well be the diary Mrs. Wangell had in her possession!
“What
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