CHAPTER I.
THE MYSTERY OF A BLACK NIGHT "I wish I had brought my electric flash out here with me," muttered Harry Hazelton uneasily.
"I told you that you'd better do it," chuckled Tom Reade.
"But how could I know that the night would be pitch dark ?" Harry demanded.
"I don't know this gulf weather yet, and fifteen minutes ago the stars were out in full force.

Now look at them!" "How can I look at them ?" demanded Tom, halting.

"My flashlight won't pierce the clouds." Reade halted on his dark, dangerous footway, and Harry, just behind him, uttered a sigh of relief and halted also.
"I never was in such a place as this before." "You've been in many a worse place, though," rejoined Tom.

"I never heard you make half as much fuss, either." "I think something must be wrong with my head," ventured Harry.
"Undoubtedly," Tom Reade agreed cheerily.
"Hear that water," Harry went on, in a voice scarcely less disconsolate than before.
"Of course," nodded Tom.

"But the water can hardly be termed a surprise.
We both knew that the Gulf of Mexico is here.