ou can't answer.

It was a little bit creepy all alone on the wharf that night. I don't
deny it. Twice I thought I 'eard something coming up on tip-toe behind
me. The second time I was so nervous that I began to sing to keep my
spirits up, and I went on singing till three of the hands of the Susan
Emily, wot was lying alongside, came up from the fo'c'sle and offered to
fight me. I was thankful when daylight came.

Five nights arterwards I 'ad the shock of my life. It was the fust night
for some time that there was no craft up. A dark night, and a nasty
moaning sort of a wind. I 'ad just lighted the lamp at the corner of the
warehouse, wot 'ad blown out, and was sitting down to rest afore putting
the ladder away, when I 'appened to look along the jetty and saw a head
coming up over the edge of it. In the light of the lamp I saw the dead
white face of Sam Bullet's ghost making faces at me.

[Illustration: IN THE LIGHT OF THE LAMP I SAW THE DEAD WHITE FACE]

I just caught my breath, sharp like, and then turned and ran for the
gate like a race-horse. I 'ad left the key in the padlock, in case of
anything happening, and I just gave it one turn, flung the wicket open
and slammed it in the ghost's face, and tumbled out into the road.

I ran slap into the arms of a young policeman wot was passing. Nasty,
short-tempered chap he was, but I don't think I was more glad to see
anybody in my life. I hugged 'im till 'e nearly lost 'is breath, and
then he sat me down on the kerb-stone and asked me wot I meant by it.

Wot with the excitement and the running I couldn't speak at fust, and
when I did he said I was trying to deceive 'im.

"There ain't no such thing as ghosts," he ses; "you've been drinking."

"It came up out o' the river and run arter me like the wind," I ses.

"Why didn't it catch you, then?" he ses, looking me up and down and all
round about. "Talk sense."

He went up to the gate and peeped in, and, arter watching a moment,
stepped inside and walked down the wharf

William Wymark Jacobs (September 8, 1863 September 1, 1943), was an English author of short stories and novels. He is now best remembered for his macabre tales The Monkeys Paw (published 1902) and The Toll House (in the collection of short stories The Lady of the Barge). However the majority of his output was humorous in tone. His favourite subjects were marine life: men who go down to the sea in ships of moderate tonnage said Punch, reviewing his first collection of stories, Many Cargoes, which achieved great popular success on its publication in 1896.

William Wymark Jacobs (September 8, 1863 September 1, 1943), was an English author of short stories and novels. He is now best remembered for his macabre tales The Monkeys Paw (published 1902) and The Toll House (in the collection of short stories The Lady of the Barge). However the majority of his output was humorous in tone. His favourite subjects were marine life: men who go down to the sea in ships of moderate tonnage said Punch, reviewing his first collection of stories, Many Cargoes, which achieved great popular success on its publication in 1896.

William Wymark Jacobs (September 8, 1863 September 1, 1943), was an English author of short stories and novels. He is now best remembered for his macabre tales The Monkeys Paw (published 1902) and The Toll House (in the collection of short stories The Lady of the Barge). However the majority of his output was humorous in tone. His favourite subjects were marine life: men who go down to the sea in ships of moderate tonnage said Punch, reviewing his first collection of stories, Many Cargoes, which achieved great popular success on its publication in 1896.