Sign of the Green Arrow A Mystery Story

It was midnight. Johnny Thompson paced the deck of the Sea Nymph alone. He would be doing this until daybreak. The tropical night was glorious. There was a faint breeze--just enough to ripple the waters where the phosphorescent light thrown off by a million tiny creatures rivaled the stars above.

"Spooky," he thought, meditatively. "Out here all alone with the night.... Natives over there." He faced the east, where dark green hills loomed out of the water. Over there was a small island. Johnny never had been there. Some time he'd get into a canoe and paddle over. Earlier in the evening he had seen a light, a white man's light, he had thought, without knowing why. He--

His thoughts were interrupted by someone moving, up forward. Or was there? He had supposed they all were asleep--the strange old man, bony and tall, with goggle eyes and heavy glasses, the tall young man and the blonde girl. They all had berths forward. The captain and mate were aft; the native crew, below deck. There was no need for any of the crew, now. The boat was anchored. Only he, Johnny Thompson, was needed, to keep watch for prowlers of the sea, or signs of a storm.

It was strange, this new job. He was not sure just what these people were planning--some scientific expedition, he thought. The ship's outfit was rather irregular, but he had been glad of the chance to sign up as watch. He loved the sea.

"Someone--" he said to himself, "--is moving, up there." He started forward, cautiously.

He had covered only half the hundred and twenty-five foot length of deck when suddenly he beheld the girl of the party.

"Walking in her sleep," Johnny thought, with a touch of alarm. But she wasn't.

"Hello!" She poked a hand from beneath her midnight-blue dressing gown. "It's too swell a night to sleep."

"Yes," Johnny agreed.

"You're not a regular watch, are you?" she asked.

"That--er--" Johnny hesitated. "That's not my regular job. Nothing is. Does that matter?"

"No, I suppose not. Anyhow nothing could happen, here."

"Plenty could happen," he contradicted, quietly.

"How do you know?"

"I've been in the Tropics before. Natives get ugly sometimes. They imagine white men are getting the best of them--which, for the most part, they are!" Johnny laughed. "Then there are storms," he went on. "Wildest place for storms you've ever seen. Once I drifted before a storm for thirty-six hours in a boat just about like this, only--" he hesitated, "it was different."

"Yes," the girl laughed, "it must have been, as there's not another boat quite like this in all the world, I guess. It--

"Look!" she exclaimed softly, pointing toward the distant island. "What's that strange light?"

"Light?" Johnny spun round. "Oh! Say--that is strange! It's green. A green light."

"Like an arrow," the girl whispered. "Green arrow of the Tropics. Quite romantic! But what can it be?"

"It's not for us," said Johnny. "It--it seems to blink. Wait!"

Retracing his steps he went to a box of life-preservers where he had left his heavy field glass. He returned quickly to her side.

"Now," he invited, "have a look!" He held the glass in position for her.

"It--it does blink," she murmured. "It's like an electric sign. Some lights go off; others go on!"

"Let's see." Johnny took the glass. "Why--it's some sort of signalling," he decided at once. "But not for us!"

Instinctively they turned to scan the sea.

"There's no other boat out there," said Johnny. "At least there wasn't any at sunset. If one had moved in, we'd see the light."

"If there were a light," whispered the girl, "how gorgeously mysterious it'd be. How--

"Look!" she exclaimed. "Do you see it? A green arrow out there on the sea?"

"No--oo," Johnny said, after a moment of gazing. "I can't see it. Must have been a reflection of that other light. That often happens, you--"

"No!" The girl said, emphatically. "There! I saw it again!"

"Perhaps I'm color-blind," said Johnny after another long look. "But I just don't see it!"

At that he turned around to continue his study of that land light.

"It's strange," he murmured. "I can't quite count the lights, but they do go on and off. Irregularly, too. It must be a signal. But what are they saying?"

"And to whom?" the girl added.

"Well," she sighed a moment later, "we'll not learn the answer, at least not tonight. Because it's gone!"

"So it is," said Johnny, after a long look at the island.

"Sha--shall we tell them?" he asked after a moment.

"Who? Grandfather and Dave? Oh--why should we? It can't be anything that affects us! Let's keep it for our own little secret. Perhaps we'll solve the riddle--"

"All right," Johnny agreed, readily. There's a queer girl for you, he was thinking. She'd be lots of fun, though.

"Is the elderly man your grandfather?" he asked.