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their tales, whatever it was he could hardly contain his eagerness for a new story.
        “The stranger boasted many a villainous act but he became most lively when he talked of an evil conquest that took place that very evening. As it was, he and three other men were sailors from the ship ‘Maytu Queen’ that lay anchored in nearby Oak Harbor. It was resupplying itself and was scheduled to set sail by weeks’ end for the long voyage to the Marianas. The crew, however, was on the verge of mutiny as a result of ill treatment by the Captain and his officers. The four hastily hatched a plot to relieve the ship of her gold stores, but when the deed was underway a deck officer walked in on the theft and they had no choice but to soundly slice him to pieces. They managed to make off with a small chest of bullion and when they were far enough away they decided to hide the treasure in an old abandoned barn on the outskirts of Barstone.
        “On a fortnight, after all the commotion had settled, they would again rejoin forces and divvy up the treasure. Men, of course, can never be trusted to stay loyal to one another and sailors are no exception to this; only these fellows were bound to fidelity by an ancient blood oath. As they became brothers with the mixing of their blood, one of them read from a small parchment that applied a most potent curse upon any of which broke its contract. The men were not even to speak a syllable of what had occurred or the curse would wreak havoc upon the unfaithful.
        “All of a sudden, the stranger stopped speaking and stared as if in shock. His eyes were wide and all blood seemed to be drained from his face as he fully realized what he had done. In telling the story he had broken the contract he made earlier. In an act of desperation and part confusion he jumped to his feet and pulled his long saber from its sheath. The blade sang through the air and made fierce contact with the Innkeepers throat. His meaty head separated from his body in a splash of red and thumped loudly against the wooden floor.”
        “A wildness was now aflame in the sailor’s eyes as he turned and spotted the old servant cowering behind the bar. He rushed over, grabbed the servant by the jowls and forced a small dagger into the mouth of the trembling old man thereby relieving him of his tongue. Satisfied now that there would be no one to speak of the night’s atrocity, the sailor grabbed a bottle of rum from behind the counter and made his way to the door for his escape but he stopped suddenly when he heard sounds coming from the loft above. Looking up, he saw faces staring down at him and spewing obscenities, he then realized that there were more witnesses to be dealt with. He looked around and latched on to one of the oil lamps, carrying it to the door then turned and smashed the bottle of rum upon the floor. In one last gesture of evil, he threw down the lamp which burst into flames and soon the entire structure became a raging inferno.
        “Needless to say… no one inside the building escaped that night. As for the sailor… In breaking his sworn oath, he was cursed to wander the Barstone road for all eternity and on the anniversary of that fateful night he must relive the horrible deed that saw the bitter demise of ‘THE ROOST.’ I’m afraid my lad…the anniversary…is this very night!”
        “Bravo, bravo!” shouted the stranger. “I must say that you had me on the edge of my seat, barkeep, and our ghostly surroundings certainly added to the effect!” He laughed. “It was, of course, very frightening and great fun but one thing does bother me…”
        The old man looked puzzled. “What might that be, stranger?”
        “Well, your stipulation of course. Are not our stories to be based in fact? That was one doozy of a yarn but it could hardly be taken seriously. Still, I applaud you for a great story!”
        “Is that so!” said the barkeep giving a quick wink