Are you ready for some Strange Stories Of Suspense? No? Only ready for one such story? That's good, 'cause that's all we got.

Samantha B was driving really slow and so we waited until it was permitted, put on our signal, eased into the passing lane, accelerated slightly, and suddenly there we were, passing Samantha B! That's all there is to this story. What about the ghost claiming our negligence is punishable by death, you ask? He's talking about whoever was running the cutter that day at the Charlton Building; the guy didn't quite get things square, as you can see by the lopsided top of this comic book. If you're the kind of person who likes lines to be parallel, this kind of thing drives you crazy!

Jim and Ellie decided to take their little motorboat and go out into the Atlantic for sixteen hours of aimless drifting around. Such fun! Then, crazed from exposure and thirst, they saw an ancient sailing vessel piloted by what appears to be a very pale Conan The Barbarian.

The Samantha B sailed out of St. Johns Newfoundland in April of 1908, setting out to Toronto in search of doctorin' jobs and lawyerin' jobs. No, wait, that's "Goin' Down The Road". This is a DIFFERENT story about aimless wanderers setting out from the Maritimes.

Remember, as you look at these sailors dressed like they're coming from 1770, that the ship we're talking about set sail in 1908. I know they're a little behind the times out there in St. Johns but THIS IS RIDICULOUS. Maybe it was, like, crazy old timey dress-up day that day, or something.

Damn you lightkeeper! I'll never rest until you've paid for what may well be a mechanical failure beyond your ability to control!!

Back in present day, Ellie has forgotten the giant hulking ghost ship they just saw, and after sixteen hours in a tiny motorboat tossed amidst the waters of the North Atlantic without food, water, decent clothing, or any sort of floatation device, is questioning whether or not they need to land on the first bit of solid ground they've seen all day. Yes Ellie, yes you do have to land there. Unless you're actually a seal wearing a wig and a skirt.

She'd rather freeze to death than be warmed by the building Jim got them to and the candle Jim lights? I don't think this marriage is going very well so far.

"At last I've caught ye, ye murderin' scoundrel! Avast ye scurvy dogs, as we said in 1908 while pretending to be old timey pirates!"

Ghost attack! Ghost wrestling! Run from ghost! Ghost melts thru locked door making preceding ghost fisticuffs suddenly nonsensical!

also nonsensical is this panel, which is either piss-poor draftsmanship or an avant-garde attempt at an expressionistic dreamlike state of confusion and fear represented by a bending of the laws of perspective and an uprooting of characters from their normal spatial placement. But probably piss-poor draftsmanship.

Score one for Ellie as she fights for her man with all the hair-yanking fury she can muster! I'm filing this ghost-busting technique down in my ghost-busting book of ghost-busting tips for later, on the off chance I may have to bust some ghosts some day. "(1) yank ghost hair"

Then Jim lights the lighthouse. "But why, darling? Why would you light the giant flashing beam of the lighthouse, alerting rescuers from miles around as to our location, generating lots of heat and light to make our lives suddenly more comfortable? Why would you do such a thing? I'd rather sit here in the cold and dark! In fact I'd rather be out on the boat where we'd be cold, dark, wet, and in imminent danger of drowning, as I said previously!"

I DEFINITELY have concerns about where this marriage is heading.

Suddenly in the very next panel she has achieved some sort of instant burst of gnostic enlightenment and realizes what he was doing and how awesome it totally was and she totally loves him for it. If only we knew what happened in between those two panels, more marriages could be saved.

It wasn't a dream, Jim, you really got punched out by a guy who's been dead for sixty years. Try living THAT one down! And with that our story comes to an end, sparing us the sight of this ghost ship from 1908 manned by sailors from 1770 arriving in 1969 Europe with its cargo of pine tar or cod or whale oil or whatever it was Newfoundland was shipping to Europe in 1908. Screech, I think they had a cargo of screech, which would explain their crazy pirate clothes (they were stewed to the gills) and in fact, explains much about this comic book, its script, its art, and even the crazy job trimming the cover. Better cut down on the screech, everybody.

"Screech". It's a real thing! Look it up.