Directly below the old fort of San Cristobal, in San Juan, Porto Rico, projecting out over the sea from a corner of the sea wall, is a sentry box. Years ago a sentry, placed on duty at this lonely post, utterly disappeared, leaving behind only his musket and side-arms. His disappearance was so mysterious that it was attributed to sea-devils, and the sentry box has ever since been given a wide berth by all superstitious natives.
The same night of this strange incident, a priest, the best liked and most admired of his sect in the city, disappeared. The only clue discovered in regard to his disappearance was the small gold cross, which constantly hung suspended from a chain around his neck, found before the door of the corner sentry box.
I heard many stories in regard to the disappearance of these two, but all were too preposterous to allow any thought of truth. At last, however, good luck brought me into the presence of a man who knew, and it is the story as I heard it from him which I am undertaking to recount.
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The proprietor of one of the "tiendas" in Mayaguez, Juan Cordo by name, was a large, jovial old man full of stories of wild adventure, with which every Saturda
This isn't a ghost story; the sentry box isn't haunted. It's not a mystery; the narrator immediately explains what happened. It has the feeling of an urban legend, since highly implausible things are presented at face value with an ending that is groan-worthily bad. The most interesting aspect that I came away with is the accompanying illustration of the fortifications over-looking the sea in Old San Juan. If only the publisher had stopped there.