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+Project Gutenberg's The Blue Ghost Mystery, by Harold Leland Goodwin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Blue Ghost Mystery
+
+Author: Harold Leland Goodwin
+
+Release Date: March 10, 2010 [EBook #31589]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                              THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY
+
+                       A RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE STORY
+
+                                  BY JOHN BLAINE
+
+
+BY GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1960
+NEW YORK, N. Y.
+
+ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+
+_Printed in the United States of America_
+
+[Transcriber's Note:  Extensive research did not discover a US copyright
+renewal]
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+I A SPOOKY INVITATION
+
+II DEATH AT COSTIN'S CREEK
+
+III THE BLUE GHOST
+
+IV THE OLD MINE
+
+V NIGHT ALARM
+
+VI THE DARK PIT
+
+VII THE FROSTOLA MAN
+
+VIII PLAN OF ATTACK
+
+IX THE SPLITTING ATOMS
+
+X AN ASSIST FROM JANIG
+
+XI THE GHOST REAPPEARS
+
+XII THE DEAD WATER
+
+XIII THE NIGHT WATCHERS
+
+XIV THE COLD, COLD CLUE
+
+XV THE MISSING FACTS
+
+XVI TRAPPED!
+
+XVII IN DARKNESS
+
+XVIII THE FIRST FACT
+
+XIX THE FINAL FACT
+
+XX DEATH OF A GHOST
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+_There was no place the Blue Ghost could have gone_
+
+_"See a way up, Rick?" Scotty called_
+
+_"This calls for an expert," Rick said discouragingly_
+
+_The timber had given way. They were trapped!_
+
+
+
+
+THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+A Spooky Invitation
+
+
+Rick Brant moved with infinite care. With one hand he adjusted the focus
+of his microscope, while with the other he brought the sharp glass tip
+of the pipette into view. He released his thumb for a fraction of a
+second and let a drop of blue fluid flow into the field of view.
+
+The microscopic monster shot out its defensive weapons, shuddered, and
+was still. For a moment Rick inspected his work, then sat back with a
+sigh. Staining microscopic animals was delicate work, but this specimen
+had turned out perfectly. At the instant the stain hit the animal, it
+had shot out its trichocysts, or stinging hairs. Rick hoped they would
+photograph. He needed a good picture for the science project on which he
+was working.
+
+To rest his eyes he turned in his chair and looked out over the broad
+horizon of the Atlantic Ocean. It was a calm day, and the calmness was
+reflected in the leisurely pace of life on Spindrift Island. The famous
+island off the New Jersey coast, home of the Spindrift Scientific
+Foundation, had not always been so peaceful, Rick thought. Many
+scientific experiments of world importance had taken place, or had
+begun, in the long, low, gray laboratory buildings on the southeast
+corner of the island.
+
+Most recently, Rick Brant and his pal Donald Scott, nicknamed Scotty,
+had taken part in an expedition to the Sulu Sea. The quiet, scientific
+survey of human and animal life in the area had begun on Spindrift
+Island, but had ended in a bloody fight on another island, in a far
+corner of the globe, as told in _The Pirates of Shan_.
+
+Now, though, all was serene. The scientists were at work on reports, or
+teaching summer sessions at universities. No major experiments were in
+progress, and no expeditions were being planned.
+
+Rick grinned. If he came right down to it, one reason for the peace and
+quiet was the absence of his sister Barbara. Barby, a year his junior,
+was visiting with the Millers, one of the island's scientific families,
+at their ancestral home in Virginia. Barby and Jan Miller had a way of
+making life somewhat frenzied, or at least less quiet than at present.
+
+The sound of a fast-moving motorboat intruded on the quiet and Rick
+cocked an ear. It was one of the Spindrift boats, judging by the sound.
+That meant Scotty was returning from the mainland with the groceries and
+the mail.
+
+Rick stood up and stretched luxuriously. He decided to walk down to the
+cove and meet Scotty. He could help carry the groceries. Besides, he
+hoped that Scotty would have a package for him from a biological supply
+house.
+
+Rick's interest in microscopy had begun with Barby's present of a
+complete microscope set. It was a beauty, with magnifications up to
+three hundred times. It had its own light source, a substage
+illuminator, and even an "atomic energy" stage, which was actually a
+device for viewing the scintillations caused when radioactivity hit a
+sulfide screen.
+
+Barby's gift was far more than a toy, and Rick promptly put it to work
+on a science project, in which he planned to compare the life cycles of
+two common microscopic animals, the paramecium and the rotifer. His
+laboratory was a table on the front porch of the big Brant house on
+Spindrift Island, because the ocean breeze made it a comfortable place
+to work, and because Barby's absence meant the porch wasn't cluttered
+with half the female population of Whiteside High School.
+
+As Rick came within sight of the cove, Scotty was already docking. The
+husky ex-Marine threw a hitch over the dock cleat and jumped to the
+pier, waving excitedly as he saw Rick.
+
+"Hey! Wait until you see what I have!"
+
+Rick let his long legs carry him swiftly to meet the other boy. When
+Scotty got excited, something unusual was up. He called, "What is it?"
+
+Scotty yelled, "We're going ghost hunting!"
+
+Rick stopped in his tracks. He waited until Scotty was within normal
+voice range. "Come on into the house," he invited. "We'll get you some
+aspirin and put a wet towel on your head. The sun's got you, that's
+all."
+
+The dark-haired boy shook his head vehemently. "Don't jump at
+conclusions in this heat, brother Brant. You'll get overheated. Just
+listen to what's in this letter."
+
+Rick squinted against the glare. "Who's it from?"
+
+"Barby and Jan."
+
+Rick groaned. "Don't you know Barby's been gone on ghosts ever since she
+started watching that TV program on Sunday nights?"
+
+"This is different," Scotty insisted. "But since you're such a skeptic,
+you can wait until we've hauled in the food. Come on, scientist. And
+unless you keep an open mind until you hear the evidence, we'll take
+your Junior Experimenter badge away."
+
+Rick had to grin. There was justice in his pal's comment. "Okay, we'll
+play it your way. But the evidence had better be good!"
+
+Mrs. Brant was in the kitchen when the boys arrived with the bags of
+groceries Scotty had brought. She recognized her daughter's handwriting
+immediately and pointed to the letter sticking out of Scotty's shirt
+pocket. "What's the news in Virginia?"
+
+"Barby found a haunted house," Rick said with a grin. "Scotty's all
+excited."
+
+"He's handing out bum dope, as usual," Scotty added. "He hasn't even
+read the letter." He grinned widely. "But I have. And he'll eat his
+words before we're through."
+
+Rick fielded a can of tomatoes Scotty tossed at him and put it on the
+canned-goods shelf. "Never had indigestion from eating my words yet."
+
+"This time," Scotty said happily, "we'll paint them on an oak plank
+before you start eating."
+
+Mrs. Brant smiled. "Hurry up and get those bundles unpacked, you two. I
+want to hear about this mysterious business."
+
+In a short time the three of them had stowed the week's supply of food,
+and Mrs. Brant produced fresh doughnuts and cold milk.
+
+"Now," she said, "suppose you read the letter, Scotty."
+
+Dr. Hartson Brant, Rick's dad and head of the island scientific
+foundation, came into the kitchen in time to hear the last remark. "Can
+I listen too?" he asked. "With milk and doughnuts to help, of course."
+
+Rick personally poured the milk for his father and added doughnuts to
+the plate, just to save time. He couldn't admit it to Scotty, of course,
+but he was plenty curious in spite of his skepticism. He knew Scotty,
+and his pal wouldn't get excited over some silly business that Barby
+might write about.
+
+Scotty produced the letter. "It's addressed to both Rick and me," he
+began, "and it's from both Barby and Jan. Shall I read?"
+
+"Go on," Rick said impatiently, and had to bear Scotty's knowing grin.
+Scotty knew that Rick's bump of curiosity was the largest thing he
+owned.
+
+"Okay. It starts with 'Dear Rick and Scotty.'"
+
+"Interesting," Rick said. "Unusual."
+
+"Uh-uh. Quiet, please. It goes on, 'You must come at once, both of you,
+because we have a ghost here. I know Rick will think I'm silly, but it's
+true.' And Jan put in a sentence in her own handwriting at this point
+that says, 'Barby is right. It's not only true, it's unbelievable.'"
+
+Scotty continued. "'We heard about the ghost first thing we arrived,
+from Mr. Belsely, the Millers' tenant farmer. Of course we didn't
+believe it, but last night we went to a picnic at the Old Mine
+Campground, and we saw it too! Honestly, we're still both lumpy with
+goose pimples. It was just ghastly, but it was kind of romantic, too. If
+Dr. and Mrs. Miller hadn't been along, I don't think we'd have believed
+we had really experienced such a thing. But they saw it, too, and Dr.
+Miller says he has never heard of anything like it.'"
+
+Rick waited for more, scarcely breathing for fear of missing a word.
+
+"'So you had better come right away,'" Scotty read on. "'You can fly
+down and land right at the Millers'. We have shown on the map where to
+land, and we will put out white towels to make a panel so you can see us
+from the air. Please hurry. Barby and Jan."
+
+"Sounds pretty urgent," Hartson Brant said with interest. "Anything
+else?"
+
+"Yes, sir. There's a postscript from Dr. Miller. He says, 'The girls
+were pretty excited when they wrote the above, and with excellent
+reason. Apparently this apparition appears fairly often. A number of
+townfolk have seen it. I don't know what you can do, unless your
+ingenuity can produce a super spook catcher, but you will enjoy tackling
+this problem. It is worthy of your best effort. Mrs. Miller and I
+heartily endorse the girls' invitation."
+
+Rick took a deep breath. "I'll eat my words," he agreed. "Even if you
+inscribe them in deathless bronze, as the poet says. How about that,
+Dad? Dr. Miller isn't the excitable type, but he was pretty strong in
+his statements."
+
+The scientist, who looked like an older version of his tall son, nodded
+agreement and stoked his pipe thoughtfully. "The letter was obviously
+written in haste, because neither the girls nor Walter took time for a
+description. What about it? Think you'll go?"
+
+Scotty spoke emphatically. "I'm going. But I'm not sure Rick can get his
+nose out of that microscope."
+
+"No need," Rick said, grinning. "I'll just take it with me. Besides, I
+might pick up a new species or two in Virginia."
+
+Scotty sighed. "Ever since you got that mike from Barby we've seen
+practically nothing of you but the top of your head."
+
+Rick's mother spoke up. "I agree with Scotty, Rick. I know how anxious
+you are to do a good job on your project, but you've been at it for
+weeks now. Your eyes need a rest even if the rest of you doesn't."
+
+"Don't worry, Mom," Rick said. "After that endorsement from Dr. Miller,
+chains couldn't keep me from going to Virginia. After all, what's a
+collection of microscopic animals compared to a genuine, one hundred per
+cent dyed-in-the-ectoplasm spook?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+Death at Costin's Creek
+
+
+Scotty checked the map and examined the terrain below. "That's
+Manassas," he confirmed. "Swing to the south now, on a bearing of 183
+degrees."
+
+Rick banked the Sky Wagon onto a new course, then settled down to locate
+the landmarks Barby and Jan had noted on the road map enclosed with
+their letter.
+
+The Sky Wagon had, until recently, been equipped with pontoons for water
+landing. Rick had outfitted it originally for a skin-diving trip to the
+Virgin Islands, an adventure now known as _The Wailing Octopus_. The
+pontoons were so useful that he had left them on, until his new science
+project had made it necessary to go back and forth between Newark and
+the island for consultation with a laboratory in the city. He was glad
+now that he had changed back to wheels. It had made it possible for him
+and Scotty to leave the morning after Barby's urgent letter arrived.
+
+The four-seater plane was actually Rick's second. The first, his beloved
+Cub, had been bought and paid for by his own efforts, serving as taxi
+for the scientists and as the island's shopping service. When the Cub
+was wrecked, as described in _Stairway to Danger_, the reward for
+capture of a criminal and his loot had made it possible to buy a larger
+and more powerful plane.
+
+Rick consulted his watch. "We must be pretty nearly there."
+
+"We are," Scotty confirmed. He consulted the map again. "There's the
+cluster of buildings on top of the mountain Barby circled. It's either a
+weather station or a radar installation. Start losing altitude after we
+go over it. The town of Lansdale should be in sight by then."
+
+Scotty's navigation proved excellent as usual. Shortly after passing the
+mountaintop Rick saw the town, obviously a very small one, and
+immediately swung slightly north again. The glint of water caught his
+eye and he said excitedly, "There's Costin's Creek. It has to be. No
+other water in sight."
+
+He lost altitude rapidly, finally leveling off a thousand feet above the
+creek. Scotty, peering ahead, saw the ground signal first. "There's the
+panel of white towels, ahead and to the right, on my side. Swing and
+you'll see it."
+
+Rick did so. He spotted the panel at once, with four figures standing
+next to it. In a moment they were in plain sight, waving as the plane
+passed overhead. Rick did a wing over that took the plane back over the
+area. This time he watched the terrain carefully, while Scotty did the
+same.
+
+"Looks good," Rick said. "See any rough spots?"
+
+"Nope. It's a hayfield, fresh cut, from the looks of it. Should be okay.
+The leaves on the trees across the creek aren't moving, so wind
+shouldn't be a problem."
+
+"Okay. Here we go." Rick turned into his landing pattern, losing
+altitude rapidly. The field was a big one, so he had plenty of room. In
+a moment the Sky Wagon touched down, bumping only a little as it rolled
+across the field. He taxied to where the girls and the Millers were
+waiting, and killed the engine.
+
+Barby and Jan were up on the wing before the boys had a chance even to
+unbuckle seat belts. Both girls were obviously excited, and both started
+to talk the moment Rick opened the cabin door.
+
+He looked from one to the other trying to make sense out of the stream
+of words. Barby's blue eyes sparkled, as did Jan's brown ones. Both were
+intent on having their say, and as a result, the boys understood
+neither.
+
+Not until hands had been shaken all around did the excited chatter of
+the girls begin to make sense. Apparently the very field where the boys
+had just landed was haunted. The ghost had walked this ground on more
+than one occasion, the latest being last night, with dogs howling and
+men running from the ghostly sight.
+
+Dr. Miller finally quieted the two down. "Let's tell our tale in good
+order, or we'll simply confuse our visiting detectives. Come on, boys.
+Let's go to the house. We have some lunch waiting."
+
+The boys collected their bags, then set up the plane's alarm system. It
+consisted of an electrified fence that would set off a loud klaxon horn
+if touched. The plane itself would also trigger the alarm if touched.
+The alarm could be stopped only by inserting the key in the locked door.
+
+As the group walked from the plane to the Miller house, Rick checked his
+impressions with the view from the air. The house, and the field on
+which he had landed, were on the north side of the creek. A half mile
+below the house, the dirt road leading to the Miller farm crossed the
+creek on an old military Bailey bridge. Across the creek the road
+vanished into a forest that came right down to the creek's edge.
+
+Rick knew from his overhead view that the forest was only a hundred
+yards wide along the creek. Beyond it were more fields, interspersed
+with patches of trees and a few uncultivated areas that were too rocky
+for farming.
+
+It was a lovely countryside, and Rick enjoyed it. The Miller house was
+in an orchard on which a bumper crop of Virginia apples already was in
+evidence.
+
+The house itself had once been a large farmhouse. The Millers had
+remodeled it, keeping the charm of the old while adding the convenience
+of the new. Rick felt at home right away, and he saw that Scotty did,
+too.
+
+Over an excellent lunch of charcoal-broiled hamburgers, salad, and iced
+tea, Dr. Miller asked, "Who's going to tell the tale?"
+
+Both girls started talking at once. Mrs. Miller, an attractive, stylish
+woman, raised her hands. "Please! Jan, suppose you start with the
+history of the ghost. Then, Barby, you take over and tell what we saw
+the other night."
+
+"All right, Mother," Jan began. "The ghost isn't new, you see. We've had
+a blue ghost here for centuries!"
+
+Rick's eyebrows went up. "A _blue_ ghost?"
+
+"Yes. You'll see why in a moment. Anyway, we all knew about the ghost,
+sort of, and some people were supposed to have seen it. Only it was the
+kind of story where you never met anyone who had actually seen the
+ghost. There were only people who knew people who knew people who had
+seen the ghost. If you follow me?"
+
+Rick grinned. "We do."
+
+Jan's dark eyes sparkled. "Then, just before we came down from
+Spindrift, over a hundred people saw the ghost, and it was just as the
+legend tells."
+
+Scotty asked, "So this isn't just any old ghost, it's a legendary one?"
+
+Jan nodded. "We even know its name. It's Seth Costin. He's the one that
+the creek was named for. But I'm getting ahead of myself. You see, this
+region was a battleground in the Civil War. Mosby's Raiders spent a lot
+of time around here. Well, when the war turned against the South, a
+squadron of Union cavalry came down under Captain Seth Costin, and they
+got into a battle with some of Jeb Stuart's men right in our orchard and
+field. They fought up and down the creek, with the South trying to keep
+the Union from crossing. Finally, Captain Costin crossed, but the creek
+was red with blood, the story goes."
+
+"A real gory legend," Scotty murmured.
+
+Both Jan and Barby glared at him. "Sorry," he muttered contritely.
+
+"It's a very romantic story," Barby said tartly.
+
+Rick and the Millers suppressed smiles.
+
+"Anyway," Jan went on, "the creek has been known as Costin's Creek ever
+since. Well, Captain Costin quartered his men in the town. You know how
+it was. He stayed at the home of Squire Lansdale, who was by then a
+Confederate general. The squire had a daughter, whose name was Ellen,
+and she was perfectly beautiful. The squire also had two sons, who were
+a little too young for joining the Army, but not too young to cause
+trouble."
+
+Rick could see where the story led. He asked, "Was Captain Costin a
+handsome young man, by any chance?"
+
+"He most certainly was," Jan said emphatically. "He was terribly
+romantic. Wait until you see him."
+
+Rick could hardly wait, but he didn't comment.
+
+"Of course the captain and Ellen fell in love."
+
+Rick could imagine.
+
+"But along came Jeb Stuart's whole cavalry and they pushed Captain
+Costin's squadron all the way back to Manassas, and then they occupied
+the area. But Captain Costin couldn't stand not seeing his Ellen, so he
+somehow got a message to her, to meet him at the mine."
+
+It was the first Rick had heard of a mine. He asked, "Can I ask a
+question? Where is this mine and what kind is it?"
+
+"The mine is right across the creek, just beyond the bridge," Jan
+explained. "We could see it from here if the trees weren't there.
+Anyway, it's where the town picnic ground is located now, on our
+property, partly. It used to be a lead mine, and during the Civil War a
+lot of Southern bullets came from there."
+
+From Jan's tone of voice, Rick suspected that her sympathies were with
+the lost Southern cause, which was natural enough, since her ancestry
+was pure Virginian for several generations.
+
+"The mine wasn't worked on Sunday, in those days, and Captain Costin
+asked Ellen to meet him on a Sunday night at nine o'clock. Well, the
+Lansdale boys somehow found out where their sister was going, and they
+went, too. And they shot down Captain Costin in cold blood, right at the
+mine entrance. Just when he was holding out his arms to greet his
+sweetheart!"
+
+Jan obviously didn't like this part of the legend, Rick thought.
+
+"So that's how the ghost began," Jan concluded. "After making his way
+through practically the whole Confederate cavalry, he was shot down at
+our mine before he could even say hello to her! No wonder he haunts the
+place!"
+
+"How about all the soldiers killed in the fighting?" Scotty asked,
+straight-faced. "Don't they haunt the place, too?"
+
+"We've heard that some people have seen more than one ghost," Jan said,
+"but we don't credit secondhand stories much. We only saw the captain."
+
+Rick must have looked pretty incredulous, he suspected, because Barby
+gave him an accusing glance and stated flatly, "And we did see the
+captain, Rick Brant! Didn't we?"
+
+The Millers all nodded. "Tell them," Mrs. Miller suggested.
+
+Barby picked up the tale. "We were all invited to a cook-out the other
+night. It was given by the Lansdale Garden Club and Mrs. Miller is a
+member. I guess it's planned long in advance, so they couldn't call it
+off or go somewhere else, so it was held. There must have been at least
+fifty people there."
+
+Rick made a mental note to ask for elaboration of Barby's statement
+about canceling the event or holding it somewhere else.
+
+"The barbecue pits are close to the old mine entrance, where the ghost
+always appears because that's where the captain was shot. Anyway,
+everything went well until nearly nine, and that was when we all began
+to get nervous."
+
+Shot at nine, reappears at nine, Rick guessed. Strange ghost. Usually
+apparitions are supposed to appear at midnight.
+
+"I didn't really expect anything," Barby went on, "because who believes
+in ghosts anyway?" She shuddered. "At least I didn't then. But at nine
+someone let out a scream, and we looked, and there was a white mist
+rising above the mine, and then the Blue Ghost appeared right in the
+mist, and it was awful." She ran out of breath and paused.
+
+"It really was," Mrs. Miller said quietly. "Go on, Barby."
+
+"Well, the ghost was a handsome young officer in a blue uniform, the
+Civil War kind. And he held out his hands, and he looked so ... so
+appealing. And then he suddenly put his hands on his chest, and when he
+pulled them away they were all ... all bloody."
+
+Barby gulped. Rick shot a quick glance at the Millers. They were
+nodding. So all had seen the same thing, then.
+
+"Anyway, he faded away then, and only the white mist was left. But
+honestly, it was ... well, it was so real! And the whole thing was blue,
+sort of, except for the ... the blood. That was red." Barby finished
+whitely, "It kind of broke up the picnic."
+
+Rick could imagine. Great galloping ghouls! What had happened? He
+couldn't believe the ghost was real, but Barby and the Millers were
+obviously convinced.
+
+"Incredible," Scotty muttered. "That's some yarn!"
+
+Rick agreed. "I want to see this Blue Ghost," he stated.
+
+Dr. Miller smiled. "You both look rather doubting. I must admit that I
+don't believe in ghosts. My entire scientific training rejects the
+explanation. But let me assure you, we saw a genuine apparition just as
+Barby described it, and I can offer no reasonable hypothesis. I have
+thoroughly inspected the area, and there is no physical evidence I have
+been able to see."
+
+Rick digested this statement. His first thought, of course, had been
+that the ghost was somehow man-made. He still didn't reject the idea,
+but Dr. Miller's comments made it clear that the source of the ghost at
+least wasn't obvious.
+
+"When do we see this ghost?" Rick asked.
+
+Dr. Miller replied, "How about tonight?"
+
+A sudden chill of premonition wormed its icy way up Rick's spine. "That
+will be fine," he said shakily.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+The Blue Ghost
+
+
+Rick, Scotty, Barby, Jan, and the Millers walked leisurely along the
+slow-moving creek, down the dirt road to the old Bailey bridge. They
+passed the Sky Wagon and its protecting alarm system, and Rick wondered
+humorously to himself if the alarm would warn of spirits or only of
+humans.
+
+The sun had set only minutes before and the sky was still tinged with
+red. Rick noted that the waters of the creek picked up the color, and
+for a moment his active imagination peopled the empty fields with blue
+and gray cavalrymen locked in mortal combat. He could almost hear the
+thunder of hoofs, the excited neighing of the mounts, even the solid
+sound of a heavy saber meeting yielding flesh. He shivered. After all,
+it had been like that for a brief period many years ago.
+
+Scotty moved to his side. "This is the oddest ghost-hunting expedition
+I've ever been on. No equipment but a flashlight. Not even an electronic
+spook spotter."
+
+Rick nodded agreement. "Too true. But any experienced ghost grabber
+knows that you can catch a sackful with only a flashlight and a pair of
+shoestrings."
+
+"Why the shoestrings?"
+
+"You tie their ectoplasm together top and bottom and they're trapped in
+it. Like a burlap bag."
+
+The boys had been bringing up the rear of the little procession and the
+others had not heard the soft-spoken exchange. Rick was just as glad.
+Weak jokes somehow didn't fit. It was the very lack of preparation, the
+simple walk after dinner to see the ghost, that made it all somehow very
+convincing. The Millers, both quiet people, were never much at small
+talk, but both girls were chatterers. Yet, even the girls were quiet.
+
+"They _know_," Rick thought. "They know what we're going to see. They're
+awed and a little frightened, but they're leading us to it, even knowing
+how it will be. Scotty and I are the ignorant ones. The others feel the
+weirdness and we don't."
+
+He lengthened his stride and joined the Millers. "Sir, how can you be so
+sure we'll see the apparition tonight?"
+
+"One can't be sure, of course. But so far as we have heard, the
+apparition hasn't missed a public gathering in a month. There will be
+one tonight, a service-club outing from over in Manassas."
+
+"They must not be afraid of the ghost," Rick commented.
+
+"They may not have heard of it," Mrs. Miller explained. "I don't believe
+any newspaper has carried a story, so word of mouth would be the only
+way of knowing."
+
+"Or perhaps they have heard but couldn't cancel it," Dr. Miller added.
+"That's the case with most of the affairs now being held at the grounds.
+A great number have been called off. Only those scheduled far in advance
+with lots of guests are still going on, simply because it's too
+difficult to change them."
+
+Scotty asked, "Then the ghost is having an effect?"
+
+"Definitely. At this time of year the grounds are usually one of the
+most popular places around. Families come for cook-outs, and the kids
+swim in the creek. Clubs hold their outings almost every night,
+sometimes two or three groups at once. But since the ghost came people
+are staying away, except for the affairs that would be difficult or
+awkward to cancel or change."
+
+That was what Barby had meant, Rick thought. He asked, "Is this a public
+park of some kind?"
+
+"No indeed," Dr. Miller answered. "We own part of it, and a family named
+Hilleboe owns part. But it's not used for anything and we've never
+objected to the public using it. The local Boy Scout troops have taken
+on the job of keeping it clean as a regular project, and most people are
+careful. It's no trouble for us."
+
+Rick glanced at his watch. It was getting dark rapidly now, and the
+apparition was due in fifteen minutes. The bridge was just ahead. They
+were in plenty of time.
+
+"Strange," he thought. "The ghost of Captain Seth Costin, late of the
+Union Army, probably the Army of the Potomac, will perform for all
+comers promptly at nine. 'We regret there can only be one performance
+each evening.' Or was that true? Had anyone stayed to see? Maybe the
+obliging phantom performed every hour on the hour during darkness."
+
+He shook his head as though to clear it of cobwebs. This didn't check
+with any ghost story he had ever heard. No holding hands around a table,
+no incantations or strange phrases in forgotten languages, no incense,
+no nothing. It was bum theater.
+
+The group crossed the bridge and entered the trees, still following the
+dirt road. Rick saw that the road forked, one branch going to town, the
+other to the picnic area. The trees around them were huge oaks, and
+almost certainly most of them had been healthy and along in years when
+Seth Costin fought among them.
+
+Rick enjoyed the feeling of history, of a definite past. He resolved to
+do a little reading on the area.
+
+Barby and Jan, who had been walking boldly in the van, dropped back now
+and the group seemed to huddle more closely together. There were voices
+among the trees, and here and there the glow of a fire. Then the edge of
+the tree belt was reached and the group stopped.
+
+There was a clearing beyond the tree belt, and in the clearing were
+rough-hewn tables and benches. Beyond the clearing a grassy hill rose
+gently to an upland meadow, except for a section that rose sharply for
+nearly a hundred feet.
+
+The upthrusting section was barren of grass, and at its base, boards
+were nailed across what was obviously the opening into the mine.
+
+"Interesting formation, isn't it?" Dr. Miller asked.
+
+It definitely was, and Rick said so. Even to his relatively untrained
+eye, this was a place where a volcanic fissure had opened ages ago,
+allowing igneous rock to thrust sharply upward through the sedimentary
+layers of the older ground. Now the formation had weathered until it was
+like a barren hill built on top of a fertile one. On the steep slope of
+igneous rock no grass had managed to get hold, although a few hardy
+weeds clung to it.
+
+Barby pointed to a shelf, actually a terrace in the rock structure,
+above and a few yards to the left of the mine entrance. "He appears
+there," she said.
+
+"Let's get a good position," Rick urged. "It's almost nine."
+
+The sky was still blue in color, but it was already dark on the ground.
+Fires flared up brightly, but the picnickers were hushed, as though they
+knew what was coming. They probably had not seen the ghost, and it was
+likely few believed they would see anything, but the unknown casts a
+strong web, and they were feeling its effects.
+
+The Spindrifters moved along through groups of picnickers until they
+were directly opposite the old mine shaft, and took up positions in the
+shelter of an oak tree.
+
+"There's a pool of water on top of that shelf," Dr. Miller told the
+boys. "It's from a spring, actually an artesian well. There's a pipe
+outlet up there from which water flows constantly. It collects in the
+pool, which overflows into a natural drainage ditch."
+
+The scientist pointed to where the tiny stream made its way down the
+hillside and disappeared among the trees. "Over the years it has cut a
+natural channel to the creek. So far as anyone can remember, it has
+always been here. The pipe was replaced a few years ago, apparently by
+driving a new one into the hillside. The original well probably was
+driven during the Civil War."
+
+Rick examined the terrain. "Odd, water coming out of a hillside like
+that, especially when the hillside isn't part of a mountain."
+
+"The water comes off the Blue Ridge, and it develops a pretty good head
+of pressure in its underground channels. Whoever drove the original well
+simply tapped that hydrostatic head, although why they didn't drive the
+well at this level is beyond me."
+
+A sudden scream from nearby brought the conversation to an abrupt end.
+Rick turned in time to see a spout of water vapor, or something that
+made a white cloud, rise from the place where Dr. Miller had said the
+pool was located.
+
+Rick felt a chill run through him and the short hairs on the nape of his
+neck bristled in a reaction older than the race of man. "You've got to
+keep calm," he warned himself sternly. "Be objective. Don't miss a
+thing!"
+
+Scotty let out a low whistle, and Rick suddenly felt Barby's fingers
+biting into his arm. For, through the white rising mist, there came an
+officer in Union blue, and from under the broad cavalry hatbrim,
+piercing eyes looked straight at them.
+
+Rick swallowed hard. He was vaguely aware of the terrified scurry around
+him as most of the picnickers departed as fast as their legs would carry
+them.
+
+The apparition extended hands, as though in welcome to a loved one. The
+youthful, handsome face smiled.
+
+Rick shook his head to clear it. This couldn't be happening! The
+apparition was faintly blurred, as though by the writhing of the mists
+in which he appeared, but details were clear enough. Rick could see the
+smile vanish suddenly, and shock replace it. He could see the gauntleted
+hands suddenly clasped to the chest, see red spurt from between the
+gloved fingers.
+
+Jan Miller let out a long-drawn, soft, shuddering sound from between
+clenched teeth. Barby's fingers clamped tighter on her brother's arm.
+
+Rick fought to shake off the feeling of horror and dread. "There aren't
+any ghosts," he tried to tell himself. "This isn't a ghost. There are no
+ghosts."
+
+Except that he was looking at one!
+
+The apparition began to fade, holding out bloody hands. The phantom
+officer swayed a little, and the young face was distorted with agony. It
+grew dimmer and dimmer until only the white mist remained.
+
+Rick was aware of Barby's soft sobs next to him, but his eyes remained
+riveted on the white mist.
+
+A yell from Scotty snapped him out of his reverie.
+
+"Let's go, boy!"
+
+Without quite knowing how it happened, Rick found himself next to his
+pal, climbing frantically up the rocky slope to the shelf, hurrying to
+catch the Blue Ghost before even the mist vanished!
+
+Not even bothering to draw themselves to an upright position, the boys
+flung themselves forward into the rapidly vanishing mist. Rick felt with
+horror a thin, icy tendril curl around his face, and he heard a gentle
+bubbling sound, like phantom laughter.
+
+Scotty's flashlight probed with a bright yellow beam, and Rick saw, in
+the instant before the mist vanished and all movement ceased, that the
+surface of the pool boiled gently and then was quiet.
+
+The flashlight beam disclosed solid rock, broken only by the pipe from
+which water trickled.
+
+There was no ghost.
+
+There was no place he could have gone.
+
+[Illustration: _There was no place the Blue Ghost could have gone_]
+
+There was no sign of human handiwork.
+
+There was--nothing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+The Old Mine
+
+
+Rick, Scotty, and the two girls stood in silence and surveyed the scene
+before them. They stood on the brow of the hill, looking down at the
+picnic ground, at the trees under which they had stood and watched a
+hair-raising apparition the night before.
+
+Even in daylight the place somehow seemed eerie to Rick. The sun was
+shining brightly and birds came and went without fear or interference on
+their normal business of gathering food. A slight breeze ruffled the
+foliage of the oak trees.
+
+It was a fine, normal Virginia summer day, with no trace of the
+supernormal or weird about it. Yet, Rick felt somewhat less than
+relaxed, and he certainly felt puzzled.
+
+Directly below them the pool created by the flow of spring water
+glistened in the sunlight. Between their feet and the pool was solid
+rock, with only a few weeds struggling for life in an occasional crack.
+
+"This is going to be a tough nut to crack," Rick stated. "Look at that
+rock wall. Obviously, we'd have seen anything living that tried to climb
+down it, even in the darkness. If anyone had been standing up here, he'd
+have been silhouetted against the sky."
+
+"There was no one on the hill last night," Scotty said positively. "I
+looked at every inch of it."
+
+Barby listened to the exchange with an exasperated expression on her
+face. "Can't you two believe the evidence of your own eyes? The Blue
+Ghost appeared right under where we're standing. You can see for
+yourselves that nothing could be hidden by anyone to make a ghost
+appear. Besides, it was too real to be a trick."
+
+"It was a ghost," Jan Miller said with quiet conviction. "Everyone has
+always known there was a ghost here."
+
+Scotty shook his head. "Everyone has always known there were ghosts in a
+hundred places, if you want to consider all the folklore about spooks. A
+few people have even claimed to have seen one. But who ever heard of a
+haunt that put on nightly performances?"
+
+"You have now," Barby said flatly.
+
+"Maybe," Rick said. He didn't know why he was still skeptical. The
+apparition had been really blood-curdling in its apparent realness, but
+he still wasn't ready to buy a supernatural explanation.
+
+Jan Miller replied with an appropriate quote from William Shakespeare.
+"There are more things in heaven and on earth than are dreamed of in thy
+philosophy, Horatio Brant!"
+
+Rick grinned. "That's true. No one knows better than I how ignorant I
+am. I can only say that I'm trying to learn. Let's climb down and look
+at the pool."
+
+He led the way down the rocky slope to where the rusted iron pipe jutted
+from the side of the Hill, a thin trickle of water dripping constantly
+into the pool below. The pool was actually a catch basin in the rock.
+
+Rick examined the pipe. It was ordinary, rusted but still sound. It held
+no secrets that he could see. He held his mouth under it and tasted the
+water. It was cold and good, typical spring water, with the taste of
+minerals in it. He knew from Dr. Miller that it was good to drink.
+Picnickers used it regularly.
+
+"Expect evidence to float out with the water?" Barby asked.
+
+"Never can tell," Rick said, unperturbed. His sister, even more than Jan
+Miller, was an incurable romantic. If the ghost turned out to be
+something other than the pitiful shade of Captain Costin, she would be
+bitterly disappointed, Rick knew.
+
+He got down on his knees, Scotty beside him, and they probed in the
+water of the rocky basin with their hands. There was a layer of brown
+algae in the bottom, which was to be expected. It looked dead, but when
+Rick scraped it, there was green underneath the brown.
+
+Scotty took out his jackknife and probed with the largest blade.
+Clearly, there was nothing in the basin but a solid rock bottom.
+
+The boys' eyes met. "The pool bubbled a little last night," Rick
+recalled.
+
+Scotty nodded. "I saw it, too. But there's nothing there to make it
+bubble."
+
+Jan Miller shuddered. "I almost died when you two idiots scrambled up
+here. You went right into that awful mist!"
+
+Rick remembered the icy tendril that had curled around his face and a
+little chill went through him. "It was cool," he said. "At least the
+Blue Ghost isn't warm. Maybe he's blue with cold."
+
+Scotty used his jackknife to probe at cracks in the rocky hillside. It
+was seamed with them, but he found nothing unusual. "I give up," the
+dark-haired boy said, his face showing his bewilderment. "There's
+absolutely nothing here. So where did the ghost come from?"
+
+"Where does any ghost come from?" Rick asked. "Same place." Their
+inspection should have settled it, but he wasn't ready to quit yet. To
+give up would mean admitting that the Blue Ghost was really a spook. He
+might have to admit it eventually, but not until all avenues of
+investigation were closed.
+
+"Now what?" Scotty asked.
+
+"Let's look around some more."
+
+Barby thought this was nonsense and let them know it. "You two can prowl
+around all you want to," she said. "But I'm not going to get an overdose
+of sun spook hunting on the rocks. Coming, Jan?"
+
+"Lunch at noon sharp," Jan reminded the boys. "We'll go help Mother.
+Good luck."
+
+Rick and Scotty watched them go, then sat down next to the pool.
+
+"What's on your mind?" Scotty asked.
+
+Rick shrugged. "Nothing. I haven't the ghost of an idea about this
+ghost."
+
+"It was pretty real," Scotty remembered.
+
+"Too true." It was so real that Rick almost believed in it. But he was
+bothered by a vague feeling that something was wrong.
+
+"Look, Scotty. I've read plenty of ghost stories, and I've read the book
+by Charles Fort that Dad has in the library. Nothing was ever said about
+this kind of ghost. I mean, a ghost that went in for public appearances
+promptly at nine whenever he had an audience. Of course, there's no rule
+that says a ghost has to behave in any definite way, but this is too ...
+well, it's too perfect, if you know what I mean."
+
+"I do. It's almost like a show, isn't it?"
+
+"That's it. It's a performance more than an appearance, if there's any
+distinction. The ghost did exactly what he's been doing. Same act."
+
+Scotty grinned. "Why not? The act is part of the legend, and it's a
+pretty convincing one."
+
+Rick cocked an eyebrow at him. "Whose side are you on? The ghost's or
+mine?"
+
+"I have an open mind," Scotty explained.
+
+The phrase rang a bell in Rick's head. Open mind--open _mine_. Could
+there be some connection between the abandoned mine and the ghost? After
+all, the shaft was almost under them. He broached the idea to Scotty.
+
+His pal rose. "Nothing like finding out. Are you for it?"
+
+"I'm for it. Can we get in?"
+
+"We'll soon see."
+
+The boys scrambled down the hill and inspected the entrance. Boards had
+been nailed across the timbered opening, but the nails were rusted and
+the boards weathered. They could get in simply by pulling the boards
+loose.
+
+"How about light?" Scotty asked. "We didn't bring a flashlight."
+
+"We can do that later. Right now let's take a look at the entrance. That
+will tell us if there has been any traffic around."
+
+The boards came off easily with the screech of old nails pulling loose.
+In a few moments enough boards were pulled away to allow them to enter
+on hands and knees. A top board was pulled off to admit light, and they
+went in together, inspecting the ground closely.
+
+"No sign of visitors," Scotty said. "Look at the dust. It hasn't been
+disturbed for a half century."
+
+Rick thought his pal probably was right about the length of time. The
+dust was fine, and thick. No human tracks disturbed it, but the boys saw
+the delicate tracery where a small animal, probably a field mouse or a
+chipmunk, had left his spoor.
+
+The tunnel was about eight feet high and wide enough for three people to
+walk abreast. Probably the lead ore had been taken out in carts when the
+mine was in use.
+
+The shaft went straight in, past the range of light filtering in from
+the entrance. Nowhere was there a sign of human occupancy or activity,
+except for the ancient marks on the tunnel walls made by tools in the
+hands of miners long dead.
+
+"Nothing here," Rick said, and his voice was lost in the emptiness of
+the shaft.
+
+Scotty grunted. "Another dead end. Okay, where did the ghost come from?"
+
+Rick didn't know. He couldn't even imagine. He puzzled over it as they
+walked outside, then suddenly snapped his fingers. "Did you see any sign
+of water in there? Or a pipe?"
+
+"No. It was dry. No pipes. Why?"
+
+"How was the original artesian well driven? Right into the hillside? If
+so, why didn't the mine tunnel strike water?"
+
+Scotty scratched his chin. "Now that you mention it, I haven't the
+faintest idea. Have you?"
+
+"Negative. I can't ever remember having so few ideas. But it's strange.
+We'll have to ask Dr. Miller about it."
+
+"Maybe the answer is deeper in the mine," Scotty replied. "Let's go back
+and see."
+
+Rick reminded him that they had no lights. "I suppose we could make
+torches out of junk from the trash cans."
+
+"Easy, if we can find some newspapers."
+
+There were several trash cans spotted around the picnic area, and it was
+indicative of the kind of neat people in the vicinity that they were
+used. There was no litter.
+
+The second can yielded two entire newspapers, one a bulky edition of a
+Washington paper, the other a ten-page local sheet. The boys split the
+papers evenly, then rolled them tightly. They frayed one end with a
+jackknife to make the torch.
+
+"Got a match?" Rick asked.
+
+Scotty looked at him blankly, then grinned. "No, have you?"
+
+"No match, no flint or steel, no ... hey, wait! I've got a pocket lens!"
+
+Rick's enthusiasm for microscopy had extended to the purchase of a
+twelve-power pocket lens to supplement the microscope Barby had given
+him. The pocket lens was used for examining specimens before taking them
+home for closer scrutiny under the more powerful instrument. Rick had
+not yet gotten used to carrying the small lens and had forgotten it
+until the need for a burning glass arose.
+
+He took the lens from his watch pocket and unfolded it from the
+protective metal case. It focused the sun's rays to a pinpoint of
+intense light and heat, and the charred paper then burst into a tiny
+flame. Rick blew the flame into life, then put his lens back for
+safekeeping.
+
+"Nothing like the scientific method," he told his pal. "Who needs
+matches? Come on. Let's burn that ghost out of there."
+
+Scotty grinned. "Nothing like luck," he corrected. "Okay, I'm right
+behind you."
+
+They retraced their steps into the mine. Rick noted as they went through
+the entrance that the old mine timbers were pretty well rotted through.
+He guessed that the mine had been boarded up because it was unsafe. He
+and Scotty would have to be careful.
+
+In a few moments they were in deep gloom, only the smoky, fitful flicker
+of Rick's torch giving them light enough to see by. The newspaper wasn't
+burning very well, probably because he had rolled it too tightly. They
+could see only a trace of daylight.
+
+The old shaft turned at nearly right angles where a geological fault had
+forced the Civil War miners to change directions in order to follow the
+vein of good ore. The turn cut off most of the light, except for the
+waning flicker of Rick's torch. Scotty hurriedly held his own torch to
+the flame to light it.
+
+Rick was never sure what happened at that point, whether Scotty's torch
+pushed too hard and extinguished his own, or whether a sudden icy wind
+blew through the mine shaft. He knew only that they were instantly in
+darkness, while faraway ghostly laughter echoed in their ears!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+Night Alarm
+
+
+Rick lathered a hot dog with mustard and took a satisfying bite. It was
+a down-to-earth hot dog with no mystery, no eerieness about it, for
+which he was grateful. He hadn't admitted it, but the incident in the
+mine had shaken him.
+
+Dr. Miller passed the milk pitcher to Rick, then asked, "Are you certain
+you heard laughter? It wasn't a trick of the wind?"
+
+"I'm sure it was laughter," Barby said solemnly. "Captain Costin was
+laughing at mortals who dared to enter his tomb."
+
+Rick glanced at his sister, hoping she was joking. She wasn't. "I'm not
+certain," he admitted. "It all happened at once. I mean, the torch went
+out, there was a sort of sudden breeze, and we got out of there into the
+daylight."
+
+He had a mental image of he and Scotty executing that ancient and
+honorable maneuver known as getting out of there! They had reached the
+mine entrance in a dead heat, probably breaking several world's records
+for foot racing.
+
+"We didn't stop to listen," he added with some embarrassment. "We just
+got."
+
+"Well, I should think so!" Jan Miller said vehemently. "It's a wonder
+your hair didn't turn white."
+
+Scotty raised a hand and ruffled his dark crewcut. "Didn't it?" he asked
+ruefully. "I took it for granted that it had."
+
+Dr. Miller chuckled. "Put on a few more hot dogs," he called to his
+wife. "These boys need nourishment. They've been through an ordeal." To
+Rick and Scotty he said seriously, "You needn't be embarrassed. The fear
+of the unknown, combined with the fears we have of closed places, almost
+complete darkness, and our own physiological reactions to the unexpected
+make us do our thinking with our legs instead of our heads in some
+situations."
+
+It was neatly put. Rick acknowledged the scientist's statement. "It
+isn't as though we had been scared away for good. We're going back,
+equipped with lights a ghost can't blow out."
+
+"And I'm certain you'll find nothing but an abandoned shaft," Dr. Miller
+replied. "After all, the dust showed no sign of human occupancy, you
+said."
+
+"Ghosts don't leave tracks," Barby murmured.
+
+Scotty accepted another hot dog from Mrs. Miller. "Thank you. Look,
+everyone, we can make two assumptions. Either that the ghost is real, in
+which case we call in the Society for Psychic Phenomena, or that the
+ghost is a man-made thing, in which case we search for the man."
+
+"I'm still not buying assumption number one," Rick stated flatly. "My
+hair may be white, or close to it, and I'm ready to admit that the
+apparition is a mighty convincing spook, but I don't really _feel_ it's
+a ghost."
+
+Jan Miller spoke up. "Rick's hunches are pretty good. If he doesn't
+believe in the ghost, it isn't just because he's a doubting Thomas. I
+think the boys should go ahead with their investigation on the
+assumption that the ghost is caused by someone."
+
+Barby shook her head, more in sorrow than in anger. "I thought you had
+more faith than that, Jan."
+
+"It isn't a question of faith," Jan explained. "It's a question of where
+you start. If we start by accepting the ghost as real, there's nothing
+we can do. Anyway, we invited the boys down to try to solve a mystery,
+didn't we? I guess that proves we didn't truly believe in the ghost."
+
+Rick grinned at the dark-haired girl. "Okay, Jan. Now, to carry on where
+Scotty left off, if we assume the ghost is man-caused, we have to assume
+it isn't a practical joke, or that it is. What's the vote?"
+
+"No evidence," Dr. Miller said thoughtfully. "It could be a practical
+joke, although it's an elaborate sort of thing. More complicated
+practical jokes than this have been pulled by expert jokesters. On the
+whole, however, I'm inclined to vote against the joke assumption on the
+grounds that it has been going on too long. Jokesters are not noted for
+their staying power. By this time the secret would be out, or we'd be
+having variations. The apparition wouldn't have fallen into a routine."
+
+Dr. Miller had spotted exactly the thing that was troubling Rick. It was
+routine, but ghosts are traditionally far from routine. That was
+actually the biggest argument for assuming that it was man-made, and
+that it was not a practical joke.
+
+He voiced his thoughts aloud, then asked, "If man-made, and not a
+practical joke, what's the motive?"
+
+No one replied, because no one had a possible answer.
+
+"Find the motive and you find just about everything else," Scotty
+commented.
+
+"True enough," Rick agreed. "But if we can't guess a motive, let's try
+another tack. When did the ghost first appear?"
+
+Barby answered. "Right after the Civil War."
+
+Rick was patient. "I know. I mean, when did the ghost start making his
+recent appearances?"
+
+"About a month ago," Dr. Miller replied. "We first heard about it from
+our tenant farmer when we arrived here from Spindrift. He was full of
+the news, as you can imagine. The ghost first appeared at a Girl Scouts'
+campfire. An annual event. The girls are supposed to camp overnight.
+Needless to say, they didn't."
+
+Rick had a quick mental impression of uniformed girls scattering like
+leaves in a hurricane. "The appearances have been regular since then?"
+
+"Yes. So far as we know, the ghost always appears at nine."
+
+Rick scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder if he appears when
+there's no audience?"
+
+Scotty chuckled. "That's like the question about does a falling tree
+make a noise if there's no one to hear it. How can you tell?"
+
+"I just wondered if the ghost would appear for a small audience, like
+one or two people."
+
+"Meaning us," Scotty said with resignation. "When do we try, tonight?"
+
+"Could be. Are there any picnics or meetings scheduled for tonight, Dr.
+Miller?"
+
+"Not that I know of. The next big affair is two days from now. The Sons
+of the Old Dominion have their annual steak and crab feast. This is the
+Old Dominion State, you know. It's a major event in this area."
+
+"Then we'll try tonight," Rick stated, with a glance at Scotty. His pal
+nodded.
+
+Over a second hot dog, then a third, Rick continued his line of
+questioning. Not until he began to ask more about details of mine
+ownership did one interesting fact come to light. Dr. Miller had
+received an offer to buy his property at a price considerably above the
+going market rates just before the ghostly appearances started.
+
+"The offer wasn't for all the property," Dr. Miller added. "Only for the
+portion along our eastern line. It includes the field where you landed,
+the picnic ground, and our part of the mine property. The house and
+orchard were not included."
+
+"How valuable is the part asked for?" Rick queried.
+
+"Not valuable at all, except that the field could be used for hay or
+alfalfa. That's why I was rather puzzled."
+
+"Who wanted the land?" Scotty asked.
+
+"I don't know. The offer came through Jethro Collins, a local
+real-estate man. He said he was acting as agent for out-of-town
+interests that preferred to remain unknown for political reasons. It
+sounded fishy to me, and I refused."
+
+"Because it might be crooked?" Rick asked quickly.
+
+"No. That didn't occur to me. I thought that industrial interests might
+want the property, and I'm not anxious to have a glue works or something
+set up as a neighbor. Besides, I don't care for Collins. I'd rather not
+do business with him."
+
+"Could the old mine have any value?" Rick persisted.
+
+"No. The lead remaining is of such poor grade that it wouldn't be of any
+use. I'm sure that the mine would have been abandoned even before the
+Civil War if the South hadn't needed the lead so badly. Of course we're
+only part owners, anyway. My grandfather owned it jointly with the
+Hilleboes, our next-door neighbors. They own the property beyond ours,
+and uphill from the mine. We've never worried over the ownership of the
+mine itself, because it's worthless for any purpose."
+
+Rick thought it was curious that an offer should be made for worthless
+property just as the ghost put in an appearance. It required looking
+into. He wondered how to go about it, and decided perhaps a chat with
+the real-estate agent might be useful. Dr. Miller readily gave his
+permission to try.
+
+To Rick's other question, Dr. Miller had no answer--that was the odd
+location of the pipe from which the spring water trickled. The scientist
+could make only one suggestion. "Perhaps the hole was drilled
+vertically, and a horizontal feed put on for convenience. Then, later,
+the area was covered over by tailings from the mine, leaving only the
+horizontal pipe. After all, the pipe is not directly over the mine
+shaft. It is well to one side, perhaps six or eight feet."
+
+That was a reasonable suggestion, and Rick let it drop for the time
+being. In fact, the boys let the entire subject drop for the rest of the
+afternoon, although Rick kept worrying the problem as was his way when
+confronted with a puzzle.
+
+The Millers had a badminton court in the shade of an enormous old oak,
+and after a short pause to let the hot dogs digest at least partially,
+Rick and Scotty let themselves in for a series of trouncings by the
+girls, who had obviously been playing intensively. It was embarrassing,
+to say the least, but neither boy begrudged the girls their success.
+
+Not until dinner was ended did the subject of the ghost in Union blue
+come up again, then Rick started his probing once more.
+
+"The business about an offer for the property may not be connected, but
+it's a curious coincidence. Now, what else happened about the time the
+haunting began? Any other facts, even unconnected ones?"
+
+The Millers could think of none, but Mrs. Miller suggested that Belsely,
+their tenant, would know of anything new or unusual. Rick agreed to talk
+with him.
+
+At eight o'clock, armed with flashlights, the boys departed for the old
+mine. They approached the area with caution, on the alert for any
+possible visitors. But the picnic ground was completely abandoned.
+
+A quick inspection of the mine showed only their own footprints. The
+boards had been left off the entrance during their earlier inspection,
+and apparently no one had been there since. Then, at Scotty's
+suggestion, they looked for a place of concealment from which to hold
+vigil.
+
+Rick found it, high in an oak. It was an easy climb, and from the huge
+limb they could look through a screen of foliage and see without being
+seen. Both boys were satisfied that they were unobserved. No humans knew
+they were in the vicinity.
+
+The Virginia mosquitoes were not so easily deceived. Both boys were
+promptly located by a scouting party, and mosquito communications went
+into fast operation. Within a few minutes the entire local mosquito air
+force had invaded the tree. Rick waved his hands futilely at the whining
+swarm and muttered unhappily, "There are so many they have to line up
+for a bite."
+
+"I know," Scotty replied in a whisper. "I wonder if they bite ghosts?"
+
+"We'll soon see. It's a few minutes to nine."
+
+In spite of the insects, the boys concentrated on the catch basin, alert
+for any sign of the ghost. Their flashlights were ready to probe the
+apparition if it should appear.
+
+Rick glanced occasionally at the luminous dial of his watch. Then, on
+the stroke of nine, he whispered, "Now."
+
+Nothing happened. The boys bore the mosquitoes stoically and waited. Not
+until his watch showed 9:15 did Rick speak aloud. "Let's get out of
+here. I doubt that the ghost will be any later than this. He's not
+performing tonight."
+
+They dropped to the ground and scratched luxuriously. Scotty shook his
+head. "No audience, no ghost. Mighty interesting."
+
+"I'm with you," Rick agreed. "Now, suppose the ghost had known we were
+going to be there. Would he perform for an audience of two?"
+
+"Good question."
+
+"We'll try for an answer tomorrow night," Rick stated. "Tomorrow we'll
+spread the word around town that we're going to be watching, and let's
+see what happens."
+
+Scotty scooped up a pebble and tossed it into the creek as they crossed
+the bridge. "You're sold on the man-made idea, huh?"
+
+"Aren't you?"
+
+"I would be if I had the slightest clue about how a ghost can be
+produced. But this one baffles me. No darkened rooms, no ghost trumpets,
+no knocks on tables, not even a chain clanking. A puff of mist and the
+ghost appears. How is it done?"
+
+Rick didn't know. He didn't even have an idea. "The pool bubbled," he
+remembered. "That's our only clue. Why did the pool bubble?"
+
+"Essence of spook," Scotty replied. "Spook essence does that to water.
+Seriously, we poked in the bottom of the pool and found nothing."
+
+"That doesn't mean there was nothing while the ghost was performing,"
+Rick pointed out. "Only that no trace was left."
+
+"You thinking about chemicals?" Scotty lengthened his stride toward the
+inviting lights of the Miller farmhouse. "And speaking of same, I need
+some for these mosquito bites."
+
+"Chemicals can produce a mist," Rick pointed out, "without leaving a
+visible trace. We didn't taste the water in the pool. I'm going to take
+a sample tomorrow and see what I can find out."
+
+The girls and the Millers were on the screened porch, waiting anxiously.
+
+"No show," Rick called, anticipating the questions from the four on the
+porch. "Not a sign of a spook. Only mosquitoes."
+
+"I have something for those bites," Mrs. Miller replied quickly. "The
+mosquitoes are fierce this year. Come into the kitchen and we'll treat
+both of you."
+
+Between applications of the aromatic ointment the boys reported on their
+experience, or lack of it. Rick concluded, "So the ghost performs only
+before an audience, and then only when notified in advance."
+
+Dr. Miller smiled. "A pretty sweeping conclusion from a pretty small
+sample, Rick. One experiment doesn't do more than give a single point on
+the curve. You need more evidence than tonight's failure."
+
+"We'll try again," Rick answered. He outlined the plan to let it be
+known that they would be watching.
+
+"That will be added evidence, but not conclusive," the scientist warned.
+"But you're on the right track, I'd say. Now, let's leave ghosts and go
+on to something more tangible. I have an interesting device made up of
+alternate black and red squares, on which various carved pieces,
+resembling royalty ..."
+
+Rick held up a hand. "Say no more. I will be delighted to take you on
+for a game of chess."
+
+Barby and Jan returned to their own project, creating monograms to be
+embroidered on their summer clothes, while Scotty and Mrs. Miller
+settled down with books.
+
+Rick knew from the start that he was no match for Dr. Miller, but he
+resolved to give him as good a game as possible. An hour passed before
+it was clear that Rick would be checkmated in two moves. He sighed.
+"You've got me, sir. I guess ..."
+
+The sentence was never completed. The quiet was abruptly shattered by
+the strident blasting of the plane's alarm system!
+
+Rick and Scotty were on their feet and running on the instant. Rick
+reached the door first and threw it open, almost upsetting Belsely, the
+tenant farmer.
+
+The man's eyes were wide, and his face was pale under the tan.
+
+"It's the ghost!" he shouted. "It's him! In the field, by the plane!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+The Dark Pit
+
+
+The plane's klaxon horn wailed through the night with a noise audible
+for miles. The boys pushed past the tenant farmer and ran through the
+screen door on the porch. The plane was not yet in sight and it was very
+dark out. The moon was hidden by a bank of low-lying clouds, a precursor
+of rain.
+
+Rick ran as fast as his long legs would carry him, which was fast enough
+to hold a track record or two at Whiteside High. Scotty, in spite of his
+greater weight, was not far behind.
+
+At least one question was answered, Rick thought as he sped through the
+trees, ducking now and then as he caught a glimpse of a low branch. The
+ghost could set off an alarm system! He fumbled in his pocket to be sure
+that he had the keys to the plane, and wondered if he would be in time
+to keep the apparition from causing damage.
+
+In the next instant he burst through the fringe of the orchard and broke
+stride as he saw a pale-blue light dancing in the air around the dark
+shadow of the Sky Wagon!
+
+Scotty was right behind him. He, too, paused for an instant as he saw
+the light, then both boys were moving at their best speed again.
+
+Rick tried to control his breathing. The spurt was taking its toll, but
+if he kept going he would get his second wind. He had to get to the
+plane! He wondered briefly if a supernatural being could do physical
+damage, then discarded the thought. He wasn't ready to accept that
+anything supernatural could trigger purely physical alarm systems!
+
+The light seemed almost to have features as Rick drew closer, like a
+pale-blue jack-o'-lantern, but it was soon clear that this was no
+hollowed pumpkin head. It was like a human head illuminated from within
+by some ghastly luminescence.
+
+"It's moving," Scotty called, his voice shaky. Rick saw at the same time
+that the apparition was retreating, slowly, away from the plane.
+
+It kept the distance constant, always retreating as the boys neared.
+Their own pace had slowed; the initial sprint couldn't be kept up.
+
+Rick ran directly for the plane, jumped the low wire fence, and inserted
+his key in the door. He turned the key and the deafening blast of the
+horn cut off, leaving a deep silence. He turned the key back again,
+resetting the alarm system, then he jumped the fence once more. "Where
+is it?"
+
+"There." Scotty pointed to the bank of the creek. The ghostly blue light
+was swaying, as though in invitation, but it was no longer retreating.
+
+"What is it?" Rick asked. "It looks like a human head lighted from
+within. But it's too far in the air to be at head level, unless this
+Union bluecoat was seven feet tall."
+
+Scotty replied with conviction. "It has to be someone carrying a light."
+
+"Can you see anyone under it?"
+
+"No, but that means nothing. The trees make a dark background. I thought
+I caught a glimpse of a body under it while we were running, but I can't
+be certain."
+
+"There's one way to find out," Rick said, and was astonished to find
+that he didn't get cold chills at the thought. "Let's catch him!"
+
+Scotty's reply was to take off in a racing start toward the blue light.
+Rick had to stretch his legs to catch up, and saw the ghost begin its
+retreat again, always maintaining the distance between itself and the
+boys. It danced in the air like a will-o'-the-wisp, as though inviting
+the boys to hurry.
+
+The pace was slower now, because the relatively smooth surface of the
+field had been left behind and the course led through bunch grass with
+an occasional clump of brambles. The ghost danced along the creek bank.
+Whatever might be under the light was constantly invisible against the
+fringe of trees. Then it vanished among the trees for a moment, only to
+reappear.
+
+Rick thought grimly that it was going to be a long chase. Once he
+stopped in his tracks and whispered to Scotty to do the same. Both
+listened, but there was no sound other than the normal night noises.
+Rick knew their own passage had been noisy, marked by the crunching of
+dry bunch grass, the crack of an occasional small twig of brush, and
+other sounds of hurrying feet, but the ghost moved with the silence of
+a--well, a ghost!
+
+In spite of himself Rick felt a moment's chill, then he pressed his lips
+tightly together and hurried on. It was no ghost, he told himself. _It
+was no ghost!_ Someone was carrying a light, that was all. Ghosts do not
+carry lights.
+
+The chase led into the trees, and onto rising ground. There were rocky
+outcroppings now, and Rick knew they had reached the foothills. The
+creek cut its way through the foothills for a short distance, then
+turned to follow an easier path on its way to the sea.
+
+The underbrush was thicker now. This was typical Virginia second-growth
+forest, full of low brush and creepers. Rick knew it only by feel,
+however, because it was so dark he could only sense the presence of
+trees before crashing into them. The blue light vanished periodically
+behind trees, only to reappear again as though urging them on.
+
+Then, as they broke into a denser thicket, the light vanished
+completely. Scotty muttered under his breath. Rick peered through the
+blackness eagerly, taking deep breaths. He had thought they were
+actually gaining for a moment.
+
+He stood still, his chest heaving. Scotty stopped beside him. There was
+no sound. Even the night noises of the forest had ceased. There was a
+weird feeling of hollowness in the air, as though they stood in some
+great cavern. Rick whispered, "Where did it go?"
+
+"Don't know," came Scotty's breathless reply. "Keep an eye out while I
+tie my shoe."
+
+Rick sucked in his breath. The blue light! It was closer, tantalizingly
+close. He suddenly realized he stood on the edge of a clearing, and the
+blue light hovered on the opposite edge. It danced mockingly.
+
+"Come on!" Rick bounded away from Scotty, and crashed through a dozen
+feet of underbrush, intent on the light. It wasn't moving! It hovered,
+as though waiting. For an instant his determination faltered. One thing
+to chase an object, another to have it wait for you!
+
+He charged on, and his foot slid on soft dirt. He lost balance and his
+arms flailed to regain his footing, too late! He slid, his back striking
+painfully as he flew into blackness!
+
+Rick fell, turning slowly through the air. He had time for one brief
+yell of fear and warning before the wind was smashed out of him. He
+plunged deep into icy water and struggled frantically as he plummeted
+into the depths.
+
+It seemed to Rick as though he plunged downward for an eternity. He had
+no breath; it had been slammed out of him from impact with the water.
+But he resisted the terrible temptation to breathe and drove his arms
+downward to check his plunge. In a few seconds he was shooting to the
+surface again, his chest an agony from lack of air. His arms and legs
+worked as he literally clawed his way to the air once more, and he shot
+high into the blessed atmosphere as he broke the surface.
+
+Rick floated, lying on his back, breathing deeply and grateful just to
+be alive. He heard Scotty calling his name, but had to wait for several
+breaths before he could manage a weak yell.
+
+He didn't know what had happened, except for one clear thing: they had
+been mousetrapped. The ghost had lured them on, waiting until the pit
+was reached before pausing in flight to give them a chance to catch up.
+And the chance had turned out to be the trap.
+
+"Rick! Can you hear me?"
+
+"I hear you." Scotty seemed terribly far away. Then Rick saw his
+friend's silhouette, as a dark shape against the lesser darkness of the
+sky. At a guess Scotty was fifty feet up.
+
+"Hang on while I get a light!"
+
+Rick wondered if his pal was going all the way back to get one of the
+flashlights they had left behind in the precipitous chase. He wasn't
+worried about his ability to stay afloat.
+
+He had his breath back somewhat now, so he paddled slowly to a point on
+the wall of the pit under Scotty's position. He bumped gently into rock
+and felt with his hands while treading water. The rock surface was
+rough, but the roughness was regular, the wall flat. Then his fingers
+felt a groove and his mind created the image to match it. A drill hole!
+He was in a quarry!
+
+It made sense, Rick thought. This was good limestone country. The ghost
+had simply led them to an abandoned limestone quarry, and he had
+obligingly fallen in! A miracle he hadn't broken his neck.
+
+Yellow light cut the darkness and he looked up. Scotty apparently didn't
+intend to be caught without matches again, for in a moment he appeared,
+a torch of dry twigs in his hand. It blazed brightly. Scotty placed it
+on the quarry's lip and added more fuel. The flames mounted higher as
+the wood caught. Only when the flames were high enough to see by did
+Scotty look down.
+
+"See a way up, Rick?"
+
+[Illustration: _"See a way up, Rick?" Scotty called_]
+
+Rick was already searching. On the side to the right of where he had
+fallen in was a shelf about two feet above the water. It led to another
+shelf. He swam for it and pulled himself out, shaking water from his
+clothes. The second shelf was easily reached, but then he was stuck. It
+was easily twenty feet to the rim. The flickering light showed a sheer
+wall that could not be climbed without a rope.
+
+Scotty could see the problem, too. "I guess it's us for a rope. I'm sure
+glad you didn't fall on that side."
+
+"Amen." Where Rick had fallen was a sheer drop into the water. On any
+other side he would have landed on a shelf.
+
+"Will you be okay?" Scotty asked. "I'll leave the fire burning."
+
+"Take off," Rick replied. "I'm happy as a cliff swallow on my little
+shelf. Don't be long."
+
+"Okay." Scotty was gone, leaving only the yellow glow of the fire for
+company.
+
+Unless, Rick thought, the Blue Ghost was hovering nearby, snickering at
+the success of his efforts.
+
+Thankful that it was a warm night, he removed his garments one at a time
+and wrung the water from them. The surface of the quarry pool caught the
+yellow light of the waning fire as he poured water from his shoes. He
+was very thoughtful. What was the meaning of the night's events?
+
+His wringing out finished and his damp clothes back on, he sat down on
+the limestone shelf to be as comfortable as possible while waiting.
+
+He had set out at top speed to catch a ghost, but the ghost had caught
+Richard Brant. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he was sure it meant
+something. He shivered, as much from reaction as the dampness. Maybe
+time would tell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+The Frostola Man
+
+
+Rick Brant was filled with cold anger. It showed in the determined set
+of his lips as he swung Dr. Miller's car around the turn leading to the
+bridge across the creek. He was no longer content to wait for
+developments. After last night's episode, he and Scotty intended to take
+the war to the enemy--for war it had become, the moment the Blue Ghost
+had led them on the wild-goose chase ending with Rick in a deep quarry.
+
+It was pure luck that Rick had not been hurt by the drop into the
+quarry. True, the ghost had led them to the side that dropped sheer into
+the water, but impact with the water after a fifty-foot drop was enough
+to cause damage if one landed in the wrong position. Rick had hit feet
+first, simply by chance.
+
+Scotty looked at him as the car turned toward the picnic grounds.
+"Aren't we going to town?"
+
+"Sure. But I want another look at the landscape."
+
+"What do you expect to see?"
+
+"I don't know," Rick admitted. "I'm just hoping for an idea."
+
+He drove through the trees, across the picnic ground, and came to a stop
+before the mine shaft. There was no one in sight, and the grounds were
+just as they had left them.
+
+Rick studied the scene, searching for anything offbeat, any anomaly.
+There was nothing, except for the iron pipe from which spring water
+flowed. That bothered him. Dr. Miller's explanation might be the right
+one, but he didn't really think so. If tailings from the mine had been
+dumped there, the hill would not be so steep or so regular. The years
+would have weathered the rock debris, but not to such a natural-looking
+formation.
+
+"If they didn't dump the tailings there," he thought aloud, "where did
+they dump them?"
+
+"Tailings?" Scotty prompted.
+
+"Rock from the mine. Stuff with no ore in it, or such low-grade stuff
+that it was worthless."
+
+"I see. Well, they didn't dump it in sight. But they couldn't have
+dumped it far from here. It wouldn't be sensible to cart worthless rock
+away any distance."
+
+They hadn't used the tailings for roads around the mine. The roads were
+natural dirt, with good drainage and no sign of rock ballast. Rick tried
+to imagine another use, but couldn't, until Scotty spoke.
+
+"Suppose they used up all the rocks throwing them at the Yankee
+soldiers?" Scotty asked whimsically.
+
+The question started a train of thought that gave Rick the answer in a
+few seconds. "You've hit it. They didn't throw the rocks, but they used
+them against the Yankees. I'll bet on it. Come on."
+
+He got out of the car and led the way through the trees to where the
+creek flowed on its quiet way. There were low embankments a few yards
+back from the water's edge. "There are the rocks."
+
+"Where?" Scotty couldn't see them. "I don't see nary a rock."
+
+"In the embankments, covered with dirt. See? There's a place where the
+dirt cover has been washed away by the rain. I've seen defenses like
+this before. They used rocks as a base, filled in the cracks with clay,
+then put dirt on top and planted grass to hold it. That gave them a
+permanent earthwork."
+
+"Why plant grass?" Scotty wanted to know.
+
+"To fool enemy reconnaissance, I guess. I can't think of any other
+reason, except to prevent erosion. In those days scouting was done by
+cavalry, and from the other side of the river these look like natural
+grassy banks."
+
+Inspection of the embankment disclosed that Rick had guessed right.
+Scotty inspected the place where the rain had washed the topsoil away,
+probably because some careless picnicker had ruined the grass in that
+spot. The rocks were clearly of the kind in the mine.
+
+Suddenly Scotty bent lower and began to pry at something. "Rick, there's
+something buried here."
+
+Rick hurried to help out, and in a moment they had lifted away enough
+rocks to disclose a considerable amount of moldy cloth.
+
+Scotty took a piece and shook it, then chuckled. "The answer is in the
+writing on the bag. Wilbur's Premium Portland Cement." He grew serious.
+"Only where was it used? I've seen no construction around here."
+
+"Maybe someone brought picnic supplies in the bags and buried them with
+the garbage," Rick said.
+
+"I doubt it. You can't get all the cement out of a bag, because the
+powder sticks in the fabric. If you try to wash it out, it only sets the
+cement."
+
+Rick thought his pal probably was right. No one would use a cement bag
+for supplies, now that he thought about it. He looked up suddenly as a
+sound came through the trees. It was a motor, but a small two-cycle
+kind, like a scooter or a small motorcycle.
+
+"Someone coming," he said. "Let's go see who it is."
+
+Scotty held onto the bag. They walked back through the trees and into
+the camping ground in time to see a lanky, white-clad individual on a
+three-wheeled motor scooter--the kind where the driver sits on a cargo
+box--come to a stop. On the box were blue letters, dripping with white
+frost, that spelled FROSTOLA. Underneath the letters was a list of
+products: cream pies, frozen cones, cream sandwiches, icicles, and
+quarts and pints.
+
+Although Rick had never heard of Frostola, it was immediately clear that
+this was an ice-cream vendor, of the kind that appears in swarms in warm
+weather with ringing bells and tooting horns, in trucks, on scooters,
+and even on bicycles.
+
+The Frostola man gave them a cheery wave and tilted his white cap to the
+back of his head. "Hi! Where's the crowd?"
+
+"We're it," Scotty answered. "Were you expecting more?"
+
+"Wasn't expecting anything," the man retorted. "It's a nice day for a
+swim, so I thought I'd come sell refreshments to the swimmers."
+
+"They're afraid of ghost fish," Rick said. "The place is haunted."
+
+The man grinned. "I heard about the ghost. If he shows up I'll sell him
+a cream pie."
+
+"Sell me one," Rick invited, and Scotty echoed the thought.
+
+"Pleasure." The man got off the seat and Rick saw that he was over six
+feet tall, and built like a sapling. The boy also saw that he wasn't as
+young as he at first appeared. That was odd, because the peddlers on
+scooters were usually either very young or old.
+
+The Frostola man opened the seat box and the boys looked in, at neat
+stacks of ice cream packaged in various ways. The stuff was kept frozen
+by slabs of dry ice wrapped in brown paper.
+
+The cream pies were on a stick, and coated with chocolate, butterscotch,
+and vanilla with coconut. Rick paid for his selection and Scotty's, then
+commented, "It's a long way out here from town."
+
+"Sure. But I enjoy the ride. It's a chance to get away from howling mobs
+of kids."
+
+A strange comment from one who made most of his sales to kids, Rick
+thought. He noticed that the peddler was eying the bag Scotty had picked
+up, and was trying to be surreptitious about it. Anyone would be curious
+about someone carrying a moldy bag, but why try to conceal that
+curiosity? On impulse, Rick said, "There's a trash can, Scotty. Throw
+the bag away and let's go." To the peddler, he added, "We're doing our
+bit to keep the place clean."
+
+"Good thing to do," the man admitted.
+
+The boys got in the car. Rick turned it around and headed for town. The
+rear-view mirror told him that the Frostola man watched them until the
+trees hid them from view.
+
+Rick said thoughtfully, "If you were anxious to make your fortune
+selling Frostola, where would you go to do it?"
+
+Scotty grinned. "My thought exactly. I'd go where there are people. I'd
+either go up streets ringing my bell, or I'd park at an intersection
+where cars could stop. I wouldn't go to a deserted picnic ground--if I
+knew it was deserted."
+
+"If he didn't know, he's a stranger here. Could he be a new man?"
+
+Scotty shook his head. "A new man wouldn't know the way out here, and if
+he asked, he'd be told that people are staying away because of the
+ghost."
+
+"True. Your thoughts are as lucid as Costin's Creek, ol' buddy. Also, he
+is not the typical ice-cream salesman, and he's not from around here.
+He's a little old for riding a scooter cart, and the look on his face
+and the way he carries himself are wrong. He doesn't fit the part.
+Besides, his speech isn't local. He's no more a Virginian than you are."
+
+"He sounds more like a Yankee," Scotty agreed.
+
+Rick sighed. "Well, we've got something, although I don't know what.
+Cement bags where there is no construction and an ice-cream man who
+doesn't fit the part. What do you make out of that?"
+
+Scotty chuckled. "Simple. The Frostola man is building a secret
+ice-cream stand. A modern one, out of poured concrete walls. He's not
+building it where anyone can see it, because he doesn't want to be
+bothered by customers."
+
+Rick grinned. "Okay, Hawkshaw. That's enough deduction for one morning.
+Take a look at that sky. Have you heard a weather report lately?"
+
+Scotty glanced upward to where mare's-tails were making streaks across
+the sky. "Looks like a storm brewing. Why not turn on the radio?"
+
+Rick did so, but there was only music from a nearby station,
+interspersed with local commercials. Before there was a chance to get a
+weather report they were rolling into town.
+
+Lansdale was too small even to be called a "whistle stop," because no
+trains came near it. An interstate bus route passed through on the main
+highway, and that was the sole link with the towns to north and south,
+except for private cars.
+
+Rick drove right up the main street. He saw a drugstore, an independent
+food market, a hardware-and-farm-supply store, a variety store, and two
+gas stations. On the outskirts of town was a huge farmers' market open
+only on Fridays and Saturdays.
+
+The market was obviously the main center of trade for the farm people of
+the area. Lansdale would be very busy on Fridays and Saturdays, and just
+about abandoned, except for the few hundred people who lived in town,
+for most of the week.
+
+He turned the car at the edge of town and drove back down the main
+street. Opposite the drugstore he found the sign he wanted. Jethro
+Collins, Real Estate and Notary Public. He parked in front of the house.
+
+Collins had his office in what had once been the parlor of his own home.
+Rick could see him through the window, an enormously fat man in a white
+shirt and red suspenders. As Rick rang the bell, he yelled, "Well, come
+on in!"
+
+Once inside, the bull voice was reduced in volume to fit the room, a
+small one, cluttered with photographs of houses.
+
+"What can I do for you, kids?"
+
+The question was not courteous. The tone said Collins was impatient at
+the interruption, that he was sure these kids would only waste his time,
+and that he hated kids and everyone else.
+
+Rick thought he looked like a Chester White hog, only meaner, but he
+answered politely. "We've come from Dr. Miller's place, sir."
+
+"So? Does he want to sell?"
+
+"No, sir. Not without more information. If you could tell us the name of
+the purchaser ..."
+
+"I can. I won't. None of your business. If Miller wants to talk business
+he can come see me. Now get out."
+
+The boys lingered. "You must admit that it was an unusual offer, sir.
+The price was rather high for worthless land."
+
+Piggish eyes surveyed them. The bull voice grated, "Get out!"
+
+They went. There was nothing else to do.
+
+Scotty started to get into the car, but Rick stopped him. "Let's go to
+the drugstore. I want to get a spray can of insect repellent."
+
+"Okay." Scotty chuckled. "You can see why Dr. Miller is not fond of Mr.
+Collins."
+
+"I'm going to join the anti-Collins club as soon as we get back. Look,
+druggists know everything about their town. Let's see if we can find out
+if the Frostola man is new."
+
+Rick opened the screen door and they went into a drugstore that had not
+changed substantially for half a century, except for the addition of
+modern sales items. The druggist, a wisp of a man, was friendly. They
+sat down at the marble-topped soda fountain and Rick asked, "Got any
+Frostola cream pies?"
+
+"Don't carry them," the druggist replied. "They're sold only by the
+route man."
+
+"I see you have a new man in this territory," Rick said casually.
+
+Bright eyes inspected him through rimless glasses. "Fairly new. Seems
+all right."
+
+"He's pleasant enough," Rick assented. "Has he been on the job long?"
+
+"Six weeks, more or less."
+
+The boys settled for cokes, then drove back to the Millers. Rick was
+pleased. They hadn't made much progress, but at least they had uncovered
+an interesting character in the new Frostola man. His arrival, according
+to the druggist, coincided with the appearances of the Blue Ghost. He
+traveled to the mine area when no customers could be found there. He was
+curious about a cement bag. He didn't fit the character of an ice-cream
+route man.
+
+Rick headed straight for the picnic ground. There was no sign of the
+Frostola scooter, which meant the man had left right behind them,
+otherwise they would have met him on the road on the return trip.
+
+On a hunch, Rick got out of the car and walked to the trash can where
+Scotty had put the cement bag. The bag was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+Plan of Attack
+
+
+Rick awoke to the sound of wind, a sign that the storm traveling
+northward from the middle south was approaching. He groaned. If the
+storm arrived before nightfall, the annual Sons of the Dominion affair
+would be postponed.
+
+After yesterday's events he had decided to drop the idea of spreading
+the word that he and Scotty were ghost watching, in the hope the ghost
+would appear for just the two of them. His new plan wasn't completely
+worked out, but it would be before long.
+
+Scotty grinned at him from the other bed. "No night alarms last night.
+Guess the ghost couldn't find anyone to play with."
+
+"Maybe tonight," Rick replied. "Come on, sack hound. Rise and shine. We
+have things to do."
+
+Scotty glanced through the window at the sky. "We'd better do 'em quick,
+then. Barring a shift in the weather system, we're due for some fine
+squalls."
+
+After an excellent breakfast of pancakes and genuine pepper-cured
+Virginia ham, Rick borrowed an empty jar from Mrs. Miller, checked all
+the flashlights available, and explained to the Millers the purpose of
+the trip.
+
+"I'm going to get a sample of the water from the pool and try to see if
+there's anything strange about it, then I thought we'd take a closer
+look at the mine to see if we can trace that water pipe. It still
+worries me."
+
+To his surprise, Barby and Jan hurriedly finished their breakfasts and
+announced they were going, too.
+
+"You're going into that mine," Barby explained. "We're going to be
+waiting outside, and if you're not out within ten minutes, we're going
+to come home for help."
+
+Rick was touched. Both girls believed in the ghost, Barby more than Jan,
+while he and Scotty were convinced that it was man-made in some way they
+didn't yet understand. It took courage for the girls to accompany them,
+even if they only planned to wait at the mine entrance.
+
+"Okay," he agreed. "Let's go."
+
+Dr. Miller offered, "Take the car. I don't like the looks of the weather
+and there's no point in your getting caught in the rain."
+
+Rick accepted and in a moment the four young people were on their way.
+He saw that the sky was filled with haze, with only a glimpse now and
+then through the haze of flying scud. Something was on the way, all
+right.
+
+"It's a tropical storm," Jan explained. "The morning weather report from
+Washington said it would strike northern Virginia this morning."
+
+"And not long from now," Scotty commented.
+
+By the time Rick had collected his first sample, a jarful of water from
+the pool mixed with a scraping of algae from the bottom, there was an
+ominous line of black clouds on the horizon.
+
+He hurried to the embankment where Scotty had found the cement bags, his
+pal close behind him. The girls had waited in the car.
+
+To his surprise there were no bags. Raw earth showed where they had been
+dug up.
+
+"What do you make of that?" he asked.
+
+Scotty shook his head. "I don't know. The Frostola man must have taken
+them, but I can't imagine why. Come on. Let's get out of here. This is
+no time to stand around wondering. That storm is close!"
+
+"No mine for us this morning," Rick said. "Wonder if the rain will last
+long enough to cancel out the Sons of the Old Dominion, or whether we'll
+just have some thundershowers?"
+
+"Time will tell. Let's go."
+
+They beat the storm to the house by minutes. It arrived with a rattle of
+windows and the flash of lightning, followed by thunder that
+reverberated among the mountains endlessly. The rain came in blinding
+sheets, covering the windows with a steady flow of water that blocked
+all vision.
+
+Rick set up his microscope on the kitchen table and plugged in the
+substage illumination. Then, while the others watched, he selected a
+well slide, took his pipette, and captured a drop from the jar of pool
+water. The drop went into the well slide. He put on a cover glass, then
+applied his eye to the ocular.
+
+After a moment of focusing and shifting the well slide, the drop of
+water suddenly turned to a strange aquarium populated by fantastic
+animals. He watched, counting the species aloud. "Lots of paramecia. A
+Volvox. Two Stephanoceros. One hydra. Not bad for a single drop. Want to
+look, anyone?"
+
+Everyone did. Rick waited while the girls exclaimed over the microscopic
+creatures, and Mrs. Miller remarked to her scientist husband, "And we
+drink that water?"
+
+Dr. Miller smiled. "No, dear. We drink the water from the pipe. This
+sample came from the pool."
+
+"But if the animals are in the pool, they must have come from the
+spring!"
+
+The scientist shook his head. "The spring water is pure. It probably has
+a lower bacteria count than our well. But the pool water is exposed to
+the air, and provides an excellent breeding place. Most of these animals
+propagate from spores, which are in the air."
+
+Rick added, "That's right, Mrs. Miller. When I want a culture I just put
+some water with a little broth in it out in the open for a day or so,
+then put it out of direct sunlight. Within seventy-two hours I have a
+bigger mob of animals than this in every drop."
+
+"Then the Blue Ghost didn't hurt the water of the pool?" Scotty asked.
+
+"Can't tell," Rick explained. "There was no permanent harm done by any
+chemicals. We can say that much. But you can get a collection like this
+in three days, and it's been that long since the ghost appeared. So
+these animals would be in the pool by now, even if the Blue Ghost had
+done something to adulterate the pool temporarily."
+
+The storm punctuated his remarks with a gust of wind that rattled the
+windows.
+
+"It's getting worse," Mrs. Miller exclaimed. "I do hope that it doesn't
+damage the little apples on the trees. They're so good. We're planning
+to have bushels shipped to Spindrift when they ripen."
+
+Jan Miller brought them back to the subject. "How could chemicals be
+harmless to the little animals, Rick?"
+
+"Chemicals might kill off those in the pool, but the constant dropping
+of spring water would soon dilute the solution. Or, some chemicals would
+combine with the oxygen in the water to form harmless salts. I can't be
+sure, of course. I'm just trying to think of ways the ghost might be
+produced."
+
+Barby sniffed. "You're a long way from an answer, I'd say. Even if your
+old chemicals could make the white mist, they couldn't make the Blue
+Ghost appear and go through the business of getting shot!"
+
+"Too true, Sis. I'm not claiming a thing. So far we have only some
+pretty wild speculation, plus an interesting ice-cream man, an offer to
+buy part of this property, and some missing cement bags. Old ones, too."
+
+Barby had to smile. "If you can tie all those things together into a
+ghost, I'll type up your science project for free, and as many copies as
+you need!"
+
+Rick grinned. "And if I don't?"
+
+"I won't be surprised, but you can get me a new record album."
+
+"Done. You've got a bargain." Rick turned to Dr. Miller. "There's one
+bit of information your tenant farmer, Mr. Belsely, can get for us that
+none of the rest of us can get. That is, do the real-estate agent and
+the ice-cream man know each other, and in particular, are they friendly?
+He could ask around town without causing suspicion."
+
+"I'll ask him right now," Dr. Miller replied. He went to the telephone
+in the big farm kitchen and dialed. After a moment he said, "Clara?...
+Is Tim there?" He waited, then said, "Tim, I have a little job for
+you.... No, not that. Just asking a casual question around town....
+Tim.... Hello ..." He hung up and turned to the others. "The phone went
+dead."
+
+Rick saw that his substage illumination was out, too. "So did the
+electricity."
+
+Dr. Miller frowned. "It's unusual for both the phone and current to go
+out at once. That must mean a tree is down across the lines. Both lines
+cross the creek within a few feet about half a mile upstream."
+
+There was nothing for it but to wait the storm out.
+
+Rick and Dr. Miller resumed their chess tournament. Scotty spent the
+time making an improvised game of Yoot, an ancient Korean game that can
+be played almost anywhere, under nearly any circumstances. At its
+simplest, the Yoot board can be scratched in the dirt with a stick, and
+the Yoot throwing sticks that take the place of dice--or a spinning
+arrow--in similar Western games can be cut from a twig. Scotty sketched
+the board on a piece of cardboard from a box in which groceries had been
+carried and made the throwing sticks by splitting a piece of cane from
+an ancient cane chair in the woodshed. Checkers were used as counters,
+where in the outdoors pebbles would have served.
+
+"It's like parcheesi," Scotty explained to the girls. "You try to beat
+your opponent around the spaces on the board. The four sticks get thrown
+into the air, and you can move one space for every stick that lands flat
+side up. If all four land flat side up, that's a 'yoot' and you get
+another throw on top of the four moves. You start, Barby, and I'll show
+you the other rules as we go along."
+
+At lunchtime Mrs. Miller broiled hamburgers on the charcoal grill out in
+the woodshed, which connected to the kitchen. Then she used the glowing
+coals to make coffee in the old-fashioned way, putting the grounds
+directly into the pan of boiling water. Since the family coffeepot was
+an electric percolator, this was the only means she had.
+
+Rick would have enjoyed it thoroughly were it not for his impatience to
+put his plan for catching the ghost into operation. It was certain by
+now that the affair at the picnic grounds was called off, but with radio
+and TV silent, there was no way of checking.
+
+The storm continued through the afternoon and into the evening. Dinner
+was broiled steak, with a tossed salad. If the storm continued for a
+week, Rick told the group, they'd all get as fat as Collins from Mrs.
+Miller's charcoal cooking.
+
+Over coffee he outlined the plan that had been stirring in his mind.
+
+"We don't know the motive for the ghost's appearance yet. We don't know
+how he appears, either. But unless I'm way off, the Frostola man has
+something to do with it."
+
+"I don't see how you can say that," Barby objected.
+
+"It's an assumption," Rick admitted. "But what else have we but
+assumptions? We assume the ghost is man-made. All right. Who's the man?
+I give you Frostola, the product that produces ghosts.
+
+"Seriously, we have to make some assumptions about our chase of the
+ghost. If it was a man, it was a tall one with some kind of lighted
+thing on his head. That wouldn't be hard to rig. Plastic comes in all
+shapes and sizes and colors, these days, including human heads that are
+used in store windows. It would be a cinch to rig up a flashlight bulb
+and battery inside one. Wouldn't take me five minutes if I had a little
+wire and a soldering iron."
+
+"That's true," Dr. Miller agreed. "Making the Blue Ghost the boys chased
+would be absurdly easy."
+
+"But leading us on took someone who was a good runner," Rick continued.
+"He also had to know his way around."
+
+Jan Miller pointed out, "But he floated right over the quarry and you
+fell in."
+
+"It wasn't like that," Scotty corrected. "We stopped because the ghost
+had vanished. It's not hard to see why. He switched off the light,
+walked around the edge of the quarry, then switched on again."
+
+"That has to be it," Rick agreed. "Now, why try to lead us on like that?
+It was only an accident that Scotty and I didn't go in together, because
+his shoe needed tying. Otherwise, we'd both have been at the bottom of
+the quarry."
+
+Dr. Miller shook his head, in bewilderment, not in negation. "You might
+very well have been hurt seriously or even killed. In which case people
+would have blamed the ghost. But why did the ghost do such a thing?"
+
+Rick had wondered about this, too. "I can think of only one reason. The
+ghost can't stand investigation. He knew we were a menace because Scotty
+and I ran right up and tried to catch him that first night."
+
+"But why did he tamper with your plane, or try to?" the scientist asked.
+"He couldn't have known about the alarm. You checked the plane, didn't
+you?"
+
+"Yes. It wasn't touched, so far as we could see. Anyway, no harm was
+done. I can't imagine why he went for the plane, though, unless he
+figured on sabotaging us that way."
+
+"You still haven't told us why you suspect the Frostola man," Barby
+pointed out.
+
+Rick ticked off the points on his fingers. "He's new. He arrived just as
+the ghost started making appearances. But he's not so new that he hasn't
+had time to study the area or to make plans to lead nosy people to the
+quarry. He was at the picnic ground when there was no chance of selling
+much ice cream. He took the cement bags; we don't know why. He's tall
+and lean, so he could run fast enough to keep ahead of Scotty and me.
+He's also tall enough to qualify for the ghost we chased."
+
+He stopped and took a deep breath. "And one more thing. He carries
+something that would make a marvelous mist for a ghost to appear in.
+Something that might harm the microscopic animals in the pool
+temporarily--although I'm not sure of this--but would be gone with the
+mist."
+
+The others stared at him with complete interest.
+
+Dr. Miller said softly, "Of course! Rick, that's brilliant. It fits
+perfectly!"
+
+Jan Miller wailed, "What does?"
+
+"Dry ice," Rick said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+The Splitting Atoms
+
+
+The storm had given way to a fine drizzle of rain by morning. Rick
+stared out the window at the drenched land and considered the angles he
+had been turning over in his mind.
+
+The dry-ice theory wasn't conclusive, he knew, but it was a strong
+indication. It didn't explain the Blue Ghost himself, but it could
+explain the mist.
+
+Dry ice is simply solid carbon dioxide, which is a gas at normal
+temperatures. It becomes a solid at low temperatures, and because it is
+harmless, inexpensive, and clean, it is widely used to keep things cold,
+as in the case of ice-cream route men who have no means of
+refrigeration.
+
+When the temperature is raised, dry ice passes directly from the solid
+to the gaseous state. When dropped into water it seems to boil, as the
+comparative warmth of the water turns it to gas, and it creates a fine
+white mist.
+
+Rick was reasonably sure the Blue Ghost appeared in a carbon-dioxide
+cloud, and he was beginning to have an inkling of how this was
+accomplished--in principle, if not in specific terms. There were, after
+all, he reasoned, only a few ways of creating a visible image. He was
+going through the list of possibilities, eliminating them one by one.
+
+If the Frostola man was connected with the ghostly appearances, it was
+only necessary to keep track of that tall individual. This was Rick's
+plan, necessarily postponed because of the storm.
+
+"Wish we had a radio," he said. "I'd like to get a weather report."
+
+Scotty grinned sympathetically. He knew that Rick was impatient when
+there was detecting to be done.
+
+"We really should have a battery radio," Dr. Miller said. "Power here is
+not very dependable in stormy weather. I think I'll get one, although
+that won't help now."
+
+"What we need is a radio that doesn't depend on power," Jan Miller said.
+"Then it would always be ready."
+
+Rick stared at the girl, not really seeing her. A radio without power.
+He remembered a long talk with Dr. John Gordon of the Spindrift staff
+about the principles of radio. Dr. Gordon had sketched a circuit that
+needed no power, and then had told Rick of how American ingenuity had
+produced what soldiers called a "foxhole radio."
+
+"I saw an old transformer in the woodshed," he said suddenly. "May I
+have it, Dr. Miller?" At the scientist's nod, he addressed Jan. "I'll
+bet you can find me a cardboard tube. Then, if I can have an old razor
+blade and permission to take the receiver off the telephone for a while,
+I can make a radio!"
+
+The scientist, the girls, and Scotty looked at him with disbelief. "He's
+gone off his rocker at last," Scotty muttered. "How can anyone make a
+radio out of junk?"
+
+"I'll need a pencil stub, a few screws, and a piece of board," Rick
+added. "A safety pin would help, too."
+
+"Rick Brant, you're being silly," Barby said firmly. "This is no time
+for practical jokes!"
+
+Dr. Miller held up his hand. "Peace, Barbara. Rick isn't joking. I
+believe I see what he has in mind. Rick, I've never heard of this, but I
+assume the oxide on the razor blade is to act as a rectifier?"
+
+"That's right, sir. John Gordon told me about it."
+
+The scientist rose. "Then it will work. Come on, gang. Let's build a
+radio out of junk."
+
+With many hands to help, the work went quickly. Under Dr. Miller's
+direction, Scotty took the transformer out of its case and the girls
+went to work unwinding the quantities of wire from its coils.
+
+Rick found a razor blade and anchored it to a rectangular piece of
+plywood he found in the woodshed. It was a double-edged blade, and one
+small screw from Dr. Miller's junk box served to hold it. He wrapped a
+short piece of insulated wire, one of the transformer's connecting
+leads, under the screw before he tightened it. He sharpened the lead
+pencil with his jackknife, uncoiled the safety pin, and pushed the sharp
+end into the exposed lead at the upper end of the pencil, which was a
+stub only two inches long.
+
+The safety pin also was screwed to the board, the screw going through
+the space in the pin's head. It was placed in such a position that the
+sharp end of the lead pencil rested on the razor blade. Another short
+piece of insulated wire was wrapped around the screw before it was
+tightened. Rick bared the copper end of the wire in order to make a good
+contact.
+
+Jan found a cardboard roll that had once held paper towels. Rick cut off
+about six inches of it and proceeded to wind it with wire from the
+transformer. He wound evenly and tightly, until the roll was full of
+wire. Then he stabbed a small hole in each end of the roll and pulled
+the wires through to hold the coil in position. The roll--now a
+coil--was tacked to the board with thumbtacks.
+
+Dr. Miller, meanwhile, had taken the receiver from the telephone. Scotty
+strung yards of wire around the room and handed the loose end to Rick.
+That was the antenna. Then Scotty scraped a bright place on a water pipe
+with his knife and twisted a length of wire tightly around it. That was
+the ground.
+
+Rick and Dr. Miller made connections. Rick gestured to the haywire
+apparatus with some pride. "Behold. Where there was junk is now a
+radio."
+
+Jan Miller said, "I don't believe it!"
+
+Rick had to laugh. "I'm not sure I do, either. But let's try." He sat
+down at the table and held the receiver to his ear. With the other hand
+he began the laborious job of locating a sensitive spot on the razor
+blade.
+
+Dr. Gordon had told him that only an occasional spot on a blade will
+work. Some blades have no such spots. Others have many.
+
+Rick was beginning to think that he had one of the no-spot kind, or that
+the whole idea was wrong, when he heard what he thought was a voice. He
+hastily concentrated on the spot, and in a few seconds music flooded
+into the earphone. He had caught a disk jockey in the process of
+introducing a record. For a long moment he listened, then held out the
+earphone with a broad grin. "Anyone care to listen?"
+
+Everyone did. They took turns, with each application of the phone to an
+ear accompanied by expressions of astonishment.
+
+Barby looked at her brother with new respect. "It's just fantastic! How
+on earth does it work?"
+
+Dr. Miller chuckled. "I'm sure you don't want a full course in
+electronics, Barby. Actually, it's simple enough. The signal from the
+radio station is an alternating current that sets up a corresponding
+current in the antenna wire. This current goes through the coil and is
+rectified--that is, it's turned into pulsating direct current--by the
+razor blade. The receiver then converts it into audible sound."
+
+Barby sighed. "I'll just have to take your word for it. But it's a
+miracle!"
+
+"It may seem like one, but it's really the same kind of circuit you find
+in a crystal set," Rick explained. "The razor blade acts like the
+crystal. That's all."
+
+The young people took turns listening to the station, located in a town
+nearby. Within the hour there was a weather report promising clearing
+skies before the end of the day. Later, in a roundup of local
+announcements, they heard that the annual Sons of the Old Dominion
+feast, postponed because of the storm, would be held the next night.
+
+"That means we start keeping an eye on the ice-cream man tomorrow
+afternoon," Rick said.
+
+Scotty nodded. "First, we'd better make a survey of the terrain. He has
+to approach by the road, but there are a million places he could go once
+he got into the mine area."
+
+Rick looked out the window. "The rain has stopped. Maybe we can
+reconnoiter this afternoon."
+
+Fortunately, the Miller farm was well equipped with boots and overshoes.
+The boys borrowed footgear suitable for any mud left by the rain and
+started out after lunch.
+
+The picnic area was washed clean of footprints and it was clear no one
+had visited the area since the rain. They made their way to the top of
+the hill above the mine and surveyed the cornfield that had been planted
+on the hilltop field. The corn was not high. The plants came only to
+their knees. Either it was a second planting or a poor crop. Rick
+guessed that the second reason was probably the correct one, because the
+field hadn't been cultivated recently.
+
+"This isn't Miller land," he mused. "Wonder who is farming it?"
+
+"It must be Hilleboe's property," Scotty returned. "Maybe he rents it to
+some local farmer."
+
+They walked to the downstream edge of the cornfield to where the woods
+resumed. Rick had a feeling that they were wasting time. The ghost
+couldn't be produced from such a distance by any means he had ever heard
+of. The apparition had to be created right in the vicinity of the mine.
+
+He spoke his thoughts aloud, and added, "Let's go back."
+
+"Just a minute." Scotty pointed to a pile of brush. "Aren't those more
+bags?"
+
+They were, and of the same brand as those the boys had located on the
+stream bank. Scotty picked one up and tested it between his fingers.
+"Mighty curious. Water cures Portland cement. Turns it hard. These bags
+aren't hard, even though some powder is still in them."
+
+Rick examined the bags, his brows creased with bewilderment. "They must
+have held something besides cement. But what? Fertilizer for the
+cornfield, maybe? And why two caches?"
+
+"If it were fertilizer, the bags near the mine could have been for the
+field across the creek where the plane is," Scotty suggested. "These
+could have been for this field. But I don't think it was fertilizer.
+Isn't fertilizer soluble in water?"
+
+Rick wasn't sure. "We can take the bag along," he said. "Maybe the
+microscope will tell us something, or maybe Dr. Miller will know."
+
+He had a feeling that the bags meant something. They had been hidden,
+and only the erosion of rain had uncovered them, first at the creek
+embankment and now here. The Frostola man had almost certainly taken the
+others. Why? Unless they had something to do with the mystery? The bags
+were worthless, of themselves.
+
+They finished the survey of the area. It was clear that whoever produced
+the ghost would have to enter by the road from town, because there was
+no other road on the side of the hill in which the mine was located. To
+be sure, the area could be reached by walking a considerable distance,
+but Rick couldn't see a man with equipment doing much walking through
+cornfields or woods filled with underbrush. He was certain the ghost had
+to be produced by equipment of some kind, probably electric
+powered--which meant batteries.
+
+The problem was, where did the ghost producer operate? If dry ice was
+used to produce the mist, how did it get into the pool? He had no
+answers to these vital questions, nor did Scotty.
+
+The dark-haired boy looked at him quizzically as they trudged back to
+the farmhouse. "Did it ever occur to you that it's impossible for anyone
+to produce the ghost? There is no place within sight of the pool where
+anyone could hide, except in a tree, and a man with equipment wouldn't
+go undetected by a gang at the picnic grounds."
+
+"It did occur to me," Rick admitted. "But doesn't that put us back where
+we started? Either the ghost is a genuine spook, or it's man-made. We're
+not making many miles an hour in proving it's man-made, I admit. But if
+it isn't, where does that leave us?"
+
+Rick remembered the chase through the woods, ending with a bath in the
+quarry. If they had been chasing a real ghost, and the ghost had led
+them into danger deliberately, that meant ... He wasn't sure what it
+meant except that it gave him goose pimples to think about it.
+
+The electricity and telephone service had been restored by the time the
+boys got back. Dr. Miller told them that he had phoned the tenant farmer
+and arranged for the man to do a little inquiring in the town.
+
+Rick displayed the bag. "Got a specimen," he told the group. He
+explained their interest in the bag and asked Dr. Miller if he could
+identify the contents.
+
+The scientist examined the grayish powder from the bag. "It could be any
+one of a hundred things," he said. "Let's see what we can find out about
+it."
+
+The farmhouse wasn't equipped for any kind of chemical analysis, but the
+scientist did what was possible. He tried to dissolve the powder in
+water, and failed. He tried vinegar, as the only acid available, and
+failed. He tried ammonia, and failed.
+
+Finally he said, "Well, it isn't cement, and it isn't fertilizer. It's
+an inorganic substance. I suggest the microscope, Rick. It will at least
+give us a clue to its structure, if not its identity."
+
+Rick spread a small amount on a slide, switched on the substage light,
+and put the slide on the stage. He focused, using his highest-power lens
+combination which gave a magnification of three hundred times.
+
+The powder was clearly crystalline, a mineral of some kind. Rick
+couldn't identify it. He turned the eyepiece over to Dr. Miller. The
+scientist had no better luck.
+
+Barby asked, "Could it be an explosive?"
+
+"No, Barby. This is powdered rock of some kind," Dr. Miller answered,
+his eye at the instrument. "But why anyone should use powdered rock and
+then hide the bags certainly escapes me. I can't imagine what the powder
+is for. It isn't a powdered limestone, which might be used on the
+fields. The crystal structure is wrong for that."
+
+"Wish we had a geologist with us," Rick said. "This calls for an
+expert." He stared helplessly at the microscope. There was only one more
+test that could be made, and he saw no use in making it.
+
+[Illustration: _"This calls for an expert," Rick said discouragingly_]
+
+Included in the microscopy set Barby had given him was a gadget called a
+spinthariscope, like a cone of black plastic with the sharp end of the
+cone sliced off. In the wide end of the cone, inset so it wouldn't touch
+the eye, was a lens. The small end was composed of a disk of special
+chemical that fluoresced when struck by an atomic particle.
+
+The little instrument used a principle dating back to the early history
+of atomic energy, when scientists were exploring the nature of the
+strange force the Curies had discovered in radium and polonium.
+
+It was only his training in thoroughness of investigation that led Rick
+to use the instrument. Since it was necessary for the eye to become
+adapted to the darkness before using the instrument, he took it into a
+closet and shut the door. As the pupils of his eyes dilated he worked by
+touch, spreading a bit of powder on the end containing the special
+sulfide screen.
+
+He applied his eye to the lens, more as a matter of form than in the
+expectation of seeing anything. For an instant he saw nothing, then, as
+his eye adjusted, he let out a wild yell. There were hundreds of
+scintillations, each caused by a nuclear particle or photon striking the
+screen.
+
+The sample was radioactive!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+An Assist from JANIG
+
+
+"We're onto something," Rick said grimly, "and we need help."
+
+"I should say so," Barby commented. She eyed the cement bag a little
+apprehensively. "After all, radioactivity is dangerous!"
+
+Dr. Miller smiled. "It is, in sufficient quantity. But the sample we
+have here is scarcely above normal background, so I don't think we need
+be concerned." The scientist turned to Rick. "I wish your instrument
+could give us further data, but unfortunately it's pretty primitive. It
+tells us the sample is slightly radioactive and that's all. I agree we
+need help."
+
+The nearest source of help Rick could think of was JANIG, the secret
+security agency in Washington for which the Spindrift scientists had
+often worked on special projects. This wasn't a matter for the agency
+officially, but Rick was sure Steve Ames, their contact in JANIG, would
+help if he could. Since Spindrift had first worked with the agency on
+_The Whispering Box Mystery_, Steve and the boys had become good
+friends.
+
+Rick suggested to the others that Steve should be called. All of them
+knew the young agent. He had been responsible to a large extent for the
+Millers joining the Spindrift staff, since he had smuggled them out of
+Washington to Spindrift to escape the deadly electronic mind reader that
+had imperiled the scientist for weeks.
+
+There was no disagreement. On the contrary, Jan Miller asked excitedly,
+"What's the matter with right now?"
+
+"Nothing," Rick said with a grin. He went to the telephone book and
+found the long-range dialing code for Washington, then dialed Steve's
+special number directly. In less than half a minute he had the agent on
+the phone.
+
+"Steve? What a break to find you in! This is Rick." He swiftly outlined
+the events of the past few days, ending with the discovery that the bag
+contents were radioactive. He concluded, "I know this isn't a case for
+you, but we hoped you might help us to identify the stuff from the bag
+and get a better measure of how active it is."
+
+Steve considered. "Know where Falls Church airport is?"
+
+Rick had used it for a landmark on the way to the farm. It was a small
+private airport west of Washington near the city of Falls Church. "I
+know where it is."
+
+"All right. You're only a few minutes flying time from there. It's now
+two thirty. Be there at four. I'll have a man meet you. Bring the
+sample."
+
+Rick thanked the agent and hung up. He reported that Steve would send a
+man to the airport at four o'clock.
+
+Scotty asked, "Is the field dry enough for take-off and landing?"
+
+"Sure. I hope Steve has a real expert he can send. If we can identify
+this stuff, it may give us a clue to what's going on here."
+
+At Barby's request, Rick and Scotty took the girls along for the short
+ride. Steve's man walked to the plane as they rolled to a stop on the
+Falls Church strip. He introduced himself as Don Baxter, then opened the
+suitcase he carried. "Let's see what you have."
+
+He produced a field-survey instrument and held it over the bag Rick
+carried. The instrument's meter showed a reading at once.
+
+"Gamma," Baxter stated. "Now let's try for alpha and beta." He opened a
+shield on the bottom of his instrument and checked the sample again. The
+meter failed to respond. "No beta. That's interesting." An inner shield
+was slid out of the way and the instrument held to the bag. The meter
+responded.
+
+Baxter nodded satisfaction. "Alpha and gamma. No beta. That means this
+stuff is not a fission product."
+
+He studied the powder and rubbed a bit between his thumb and forefinger.
+He asked, "May I have the bag?"
+
+"Sure," Rick agreed readily. "What is the stuff?"
+
+Baxter took the cement bag and folded it neatly, then he took a plastic
+bag from his case and put the cement bag inside. "I can't be sure," he
+said. "About its precise identity, I mean. But it seems to be pulverized
+ore, and my guess would be carnotite. Don't worry about the
+radioactivity. You could live in a house made of this stuff and it
+wouldn't be dangerous. The level of activity is very low. I suppose you
+have no idea where the sample came from?"
+
+Rick shook his head. "Where does carnotite come from, usually?"
+
+"The Colorado Plateau, for the most part. There are other deposits, but
+none around here. This stuff was almost certainly imported. Have you any
+idea why?"
+
+"Not the slightest. It's a complete mystery."
+
+Baxter nodded. "Well, that's all I can do for now. I'll analyze the
+sample and let Steve Ames know exactly what it is, but I'm betting on
+carnotite. If you find a few hundred tons of it, you can sell it to the
+Atomic Energy Commission. So long."
+
+The expert tipped his hat to the girls and walked to his car.
+
+"What was that all about?" Barby demanded. "You and Scotty seemed to
+know what he was talking about, but it was all Greek to Jan and me."
+
+Rick explained on the way back to the farm. "There are four main kinds
+of radioactivity. They're called alpha, beta, gamma, and neutrons. Our
+sample has alpha and gamma. That means it doesn't come from either bomb
+debris or from a reactor, because fission takes place in both, and there
+is almost always beta activity as well as gamma in the products of
+fission. But some isotopes of uranium and thorium have little beta, with
+some alpha and gamma, so Baxter concluded we had powdered uranium ore.
+There are many kinds of ore. Pitchblende is the best, but carnotite,
+which is a gray rock with yellowish streaks, is also good ore. Got it
+now?"
+
+Jan Miller asked, "How do you know all this, Rick?"
+
+The boy chuckled. "From associating with your father and mine, not to
+mention Weiss, Zircon, and the other scientists. They talk and Scotty
+and I listen. Also, Dad has a lot of books on atomic energy, and some of
+them are simple enough for me to read."
+
+The Sky Wagon was over the Miller farm in a very short time, but before
+landing Rick made a swing of the area. The young people readily
+identified the mine and picnic grounds, and Rick pointed out the quarry
+into which he had tumbled.
+
+Scotty said, "Something's been bothering me. If the Frostola man is new
+in this area, how could he have known the terrain well enough to lead us
+on that wild-goose chase?"
+
+"He's new, but not that new," Rick pointed out. "He's had weeks in which
+to study the lay of the land. Besides, he does his haunting at night--if
+he's the one--and he roams the fields near the mine. He must know his
+way around."
+
+"You're right," Scotty assented. "Now tell me this: why did he take the
+cement bags?"
+
+"To keep us from finding out that they didn't contain cement," Rick
+said. "It has to be the reason. That means he knew about the bags, and
+maybe he even buried them. He didn't bury them deep, because who would
+think anything of a bunch of cement bags, except a pair like us? Then,
+when he saw they had turned up, he collected them and took them
+somewhere else. The bags we found this morning may even be the same
+ones, although I think they're a second set. He'd hide the first set
+better than he did at first."
+
+"Your language is confused, but I get your meaning." Scotty grinned.
+"Okay, detective. Set us down. It's suppertime."
+
+Rick swung into his landing pattern. "Anyway, we've made progress," he
+commented with satisfaction. "We started with just a ghost. Now look
+what we've got!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+The Ghost Reappears
+
+
+Belsely, the tenant farmer, had no difficulty in establishing a
+connection between Jethro Collins, real-estate agent, and the Frostola
+man. He made a quick trip to town on the morning following the flight to
+Falls Church, and reported that the ice-cream vendor was renting a room
+from Collins.
+
+"No doubt about that connection," was Rick's comment. Then, because they
+had not talked to Belsely at any length, he questioned the farmer about
+the appearances of the ghost in the fields nearby.
+
+"I've seen him four or five times, not counting the night you chased
+him," the farmer said. "Funny thing about the night he got the alarm
+going on your plane."
+
+"What was funny?" Scotty asked.
+
+"He was alone."
+
+"But he's always alone," Rick exclaimed.
+
+"Nope. He's alone at the mine, but when he walks the fields he has some
+of his men with him. Sometimes one, sometimes two or three. Only saw him
+alone that once--the night you chased him."
+
+This was a new angle. Rick and Scotty looked at each other, puzzled.
+
+"You've seen the others?" Scotty asked.
+
+"Sure have. Not close to, you can bet. Got no wish to tangle with
+spirits, not me. But I saw them. They walked in the cornfield on top of
+the mine hill, and they walked in the field where your plane is. They
+was lookin' for somethin'."
+
+"How do you know?" Rick demanded.
+
+"They'd walk, then stop, and bend over. Like they were searchin' the
+ground. Bet one of 'em lost a head and is huntin' for it."
+
+"Did you see where they came from, or went to?"
+
+"Not me. I got curiosity, but not the kind that killed that cat they
+tell about. Like I say, me and spirits don't mix, none to speak of."
+
+Rick pondered the information. "Are these ghostly walks at nine
+o'clock?"
+
+"No. Mostly around midnight."
+
+Rick turned to Scotty. "What do you make of that?"
+
+"Nothing," Scotty replied. "Not a thing. You say you've seen as many as
+three men plus the Blue Ghost?"
+
+"That's correct. None of them shine like the Blue Ghost himself, though.
+Most curious thing I ever saw was the night they pulled a wagon,
+collectin' the invisible dead from the battlefield."
+
+Rick's hair had an impulse to stand on end. The calm, factual way in
+which the tenant farmer piled mystery on mystery was incredible.
+
+"You mean you saw ghosts pulling a ghost wagon?" the boy asked
+incredulously.
+
+"Like I said. More a cart than a wagon, I suppose you'd say. They hauled
+it back and forth, and the mist trailed out behind it. Once in a while
+they'd stop and gather and look at the ground. Must be they were
+searchin' for their dead. Don't know why else they'd need a wagon. And
+that Blue Thing leadin' the way every time. Up and down, back and
+forth."
+
+Scotty asked, "Where were you while all this was going on?"
+
+"In the orchard, scared pink, but not so scared as curious."
+
+A man of real courage, Rick thought. Believed in ghosts, but had the
+nerve to watch them in action. "Mr. Belsely, you said none of them shone
+like the Blue Ghost. Did the others look solid?"
+
+"They were dark shadows, that's all. No moon to see by, or at least not
+enough. Couldn't make out what they looked like."
+
+"Has anyone else seen them in the fields?" Scotty wanted to know.
+
+"Sure enough. Two or three that I know of, maybe more."
+
+The tenant farmer paused, then asked a question of his own. "Why are you
+so interested in this new ice-cream man?"
+
+Rick considered. "He interested us," he said finally. "He's not a
+Virginian. And he didn't seem to know much about the ghost."
+
+Belsely's comment brought Rick's carefully built up assumptions tumbling
+down around his ears. "Oh, he knows about the ghost, all right. He saw
+it once that I know of, when he was sellin' ice cream to the girl
+campers." The farmer added, "I was standin' right next to him at the
+time."
+
+Rick looked at Scotty helplessly. "Thank you, Mr. Belsely," he said
+unhappily. "You've certainly given us plenty to think about!"
+
+The boys watched as the tenant farmer walked up the road to his own
+house, as solid and dependable as the very earth he walked on. There was
+no arguing with what he had seen, only with his interpretation of it.
+Clearly, Rick thought, he had seen figures in the fields on several
+occasions. But what had the figures actually been doing?
+
+"Don't be too discouraged," Scotty offered. "The ice-cream man seeing
+the ghost doesn't mean he isn't involved. Wasn't the girls' picnic the
+first time the ghost made a public appearance? He may have been checking
+on the way the ghost looked."
+
+"What do you suppose Belsely was doing there?" Rick asked.
+
+"Probably just wandered over to see what was going on. I've noticed
+people are pretty casual about the affairs over there. No reason why
+Belsely wouldn't take an evening stroll to see how the party was going."
+
+"Well keep our plan," Rick decided. "It's the only lead we have, so we'd
+better use it."
+
+By the time the Sons of the Old Dominion started to arrive for the
+annual feast, the boys were in their chosen position, upstream from the
+mine at a point where they couldn't fail to see all who traveled the
+road, but where no one could see them through the thick screen of
+foliage.
+
+They had applied insect repellent liberally, but the insects swarmed
+around them anyway, although bites were few. They lay quietly and
+watched car after car arrive, but without seeing a familiar face.
+
+During a lull in the traffic Rick asked, "Do you suppose we got here too
+late? He may have come earlier."
+
+"I doubt it. Besides, where would he have parked his scooter? It isn't
+anywhere between us and the mine because we looked, and I doubt that
+he'd walk any farther than this."
+
+Rick had to agree that it wouldn't make much sense to park the vehicle
+any farther away than the spot they had selected from which to watch.
+
+The traffic ceased. All Sons of the Old Dominion apparently had arrived,
+and all were presumably feasting on good food. It was only eight
+o'clock; the ghost wasn't due for an hour. Rick thought an hour was
+probably more than the ghost producer needed to get ready for his
+appearance. Only a few minutes might be needed. That meant he and Scotty
+would have to wait until a few minutes before nine, to be sure no one
+slipped by.
+
+One late arrival roared past as they waited, and then all was quiet. At
+ten minutes to nine Rick admitted defeat. "Either he isn't coming, or he
+got there through the fields. Let's go see if he shows up."
+
+As they hiked down the road, ears attuned for a motor vehicle behind
+them, Rick explained his theory of ghost production to Scotty. "There's
+only one way a transparent spook can be produced, and that's optically.
+In the movies they use a double exposure. The only way to produce an
+optical image on mist is with a projector of some kind."
+
+"Spook projector," Scotty agreed. "Only where is this projector
+located?"
+
+That, Rick pointed out, was the prize-winning question. "All we can do
+is keep an eye open for the projector beam."
+
+"Both eyes," Scotty corrected.
+
+It was one minute before nine when they arrived at the mine entrance.
+The Sons of the Old Dominion were still eating, but there was a lack of
+noise or joyousness that made Rick aware that the Sons knew about the
+ghost. He saw groups facing the place where the ghost would appear.
+
+The boys were in front of the mine entrance. By unspoken agreement they
+moved to a position directly in front of the pool. If the ghost
+appeared, it would be almost over their heads. The shelf was too high
+for them to see into the water, but they were in a position where any
+human activity couldn't possibly be overlooked.
+
+"On your toes," Scotty whispered. "Let's rush it while the Blue Ghost is
+still there."
+
+Rick swallowed hard. In spite of his conviction that a human agency, and
+not a supernatural one, produced the Blue Ghost, he didn't care much for
+rushing right into the apparition. In fact, he didn't like it at all.
+The mist had felt clammy the first time, even though no harm had come to
+them. But, he told himself sternly, Scotty was right. They either had
+faith in their assumptions or they didn't.
+
+"Wait until the show is almost over," Rick whispered.
+
+A voice from behind them called, "Better get out of there, you two.
+That's where the ghost appears."
+
+The boys turned to reassure their well-wisher, and in that moment a sigh
+went up from the crowd. Rick heard a sudden splash, and then the white
+mist was rising, billowing almost over their heads!
+
+He watched, fascinated and scared, and saw the Blue Ghost appear. The
+apparition was elongated from Rick's viewpoint, but the act was the
+same. The boy saw no sign of a projector beam, no sign of any human
+agency, and the lack of both turned his knees to water. He was
+close--very close--yet he could detect no sign of human origin in the
+thing overhead. Horror swept through him. Had he been wrong, he and
+Scotty?
+
+His pal's hand fell sharply on his back. "Let's get him, boy! Let's find
+out for once and all!"
+
+Somehow he got his legs moving. He and Scotty went up the steep slope,
+scrambling right toward the thing that was now holding out bloody hands!
+
+They were in the mist! Rick sensed the blueness around him, and with
+sick horror realized that the ghost continued his act as though they
+were not even there.
+
+Scotty yelled, and in the same instant sharp pain swept across Rick's
+face. Bitter, terrible cold encompassed him, turned the skin on his face
+rigid, seared his eyeballs with cold so intense it was like burning
+heat. He staggered and fell, hands clutching his frozen face. He tried
+to yell for help and couldn't. He rolled down the hillside that he had
+climbed seconds before, and Scotty's falling body crashed into him,
+knocked the breath from him.
+
+And overhead, the vision of the Union cavalry officer, face distorted in
+agony, faded slowly from sight, leaving only the icy, billowing mist.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+The Dead Water
+
+
+Hands lifted Rick and Scotty to their feet and voices demanded to know
+what had happened. Other voices berated them, calling them a pair of
+young idiots for rushing a ghost like that.
+
+Rick staggered in the grip of the supporting hands. His heart was
+pounding and there was a constriction in his chest. Tears streamed down
+his cheeks as his tear ducts spouted fluid to protect his eyes from the
+now-vanishing cold. His cheeks felt numb, but sensation was returning.
+
+At last he regained his equilibrium and found his handkerchief. He
+mopped his face and suddenly realized that his face was flushed, as
+though with fever. The sensation of burning cold was gone. He took a
+deep breath, grateful to be nearly normal again.
+
+Scotty was also back to near normal. To the questions from the
+surrounding circle of Sons of the Old Dominion they could only say that
+they didn't know what had happened.
+
+"Suddenly our faces froze," Rick explained shakily. "At least mine did."
+
+"Same here," Scotty supplemented.
+
+"It was like the cold of ... of ... I don't know, really. It was cold,
+but like nothing I've ever experienced before. The shock was so great I
+just sort of crumpled and fell."
+
+"Whatever made you rush right into the ghost like that?" a burly man
+wanted to know.
+
+Rick shrugged. "We didn't think the ghost was real, and we wanted to see
+how it was produced."
+
+"Do you believe it's real now?"
+
+The boy shuddered. "I'm a whole lot closer to believing it," he
+admitted.
+
+"At least we won't try football tactics on it again," Scotty added.
+
+Seeing that the boys were all right, the group dispersed. In a few
+moments they were alone. Rick shook his head hard, to clear it. "Now
+where are we?" he asked.
+
+Scotty laughed mirthlessly. "I'm glad you asked that. I'd be gladder if
+you could answer it."
+
+"One thing more and I'm ready to call quits," Rick said. Common sense
+told him to beat a path to the Millers, but he was stubborn. He wasn't
+giving up yet. He searched until he found a coke bottle, then taking his
+nerve in both hands he climbed up to the pool. He let the bottle fill
+with spring water then rinsed it. When he was satisfied it was clean
+enough, he filled it from the pool--the same pool from which the ghostly
+mist had appeared only short minutes before.
+
+Only then did he and Scotty leave the picnic grounds and proceed home to
+the Miller farmhouse.
+
+The Millers and the girls were waiting. One look at the boys' faces and
+they knew something had happened.
+
+Jan Miller said with quick intuition, "You're hurt!"
+
+"Not permanently," Rick reassured her. "For a while we wondered, but
+it's okay now."
+
+The Millers and the girls listened to their recital with mixed horror
+and relief that the effect of the cold had vanished so quickly. Dr.
+Miller's brows were knit as he tried to puzzle out what had happened.
+
+"You saw no projection beam, I assume?"
+
+"Not a trace," Rick said emphatically.
+
+"You were actually in the mist when this cold effect hit you?" Dr.
+Miller asked.
+
+"I was," Rick agreed. "How about you, Scotty?"
+
+"Same. I was groping around trying to find something to get my hands on.
+I was actually in the pool of water. Rick was on the edge of it."
+
+Dr. Miller considered. "Even if your assumption about dry ice is
+correct, Rick, that wouldn't explain the cold effect. If one touches dry
+ice, it is cold enough to cause a burning sensation, but had dry ice
+been used on you it would have taken chunks of it in contact with your
+skin. You felt nothing solid, I assume?"
+
+Both boys shook their heads.
+
+"Then we can rule out dry ice. I can't imagine what hit you."
+
+"The Blue Ghost," Barby said, and shuddered visibly. "This ought to
+prove it, I guess."
+
+Rick admitted it. "Ought to is right, but I'm stubborn enough to keep
+looking for a rational explanation. I got some water from the pool.
+Anyone want to look with me?"
+
+They all did, and followed Rick to the kitchen. He set up the microscope
+and plugged in the substage light, then found a well slide and placed a
+drop of water on it. But examine the drop as he would, using the most
+powerful magnification, he could see nothing but a bit of brown debris
+that seemed to be a thread of withered alga.
+
+He took another drop from the coke bottle and tried again with similar
+results. He shook the bottle and placed a third drop on a clean slide.
+
+Rick focused the microscope on the drop of water. Yesterday--or was it
+the day before? He couldn't remember clearly he was so tired--the rock
+basin had been literally swarming with paramecia and other forms of
+life. Today, following the appearance of the ghost, the water from the
+basin was as devoid of life as the planet Jupiter.
+
+He moved the well slide from side to side, bringing different parts of
+the drop under his lens. There was a tiny wisp of vegetable matter he
+recognized as a dead bit of Riccia, and a few black threads of algae.
+
+Rick shook his head in bewilderment. "Whatever the Blue Ghost is," he
+stated, "it's a killer. The mob we saw is gone."
+
+Dr. Miller took over the instrument and confirmed Rick's findings. "The
+water is dead," he said at last. "I don't know how useful it is to know
+that, but I can't imagine that a supernatural agency would bring death
+to millions of microscopic creatures. Yet, if it isn't supernatural, how
+is it done and who does it?"
+
+"I've never seen such hard people to convince of anything," Barby
+declared. "All the evidence points to a real ghost, it seems to me. But
+you keep trying to prove something else and you don't get very far."
+
+"We get as far as dead water and radioactive cement bags that don't
+contain cement," Rick pointed out. "For a while tonight I was about
+convinced that the ghost was supernatural, but I'm still going to be a
+doubting Thomas, at least until we run all leads into a dead end!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+The Night Watchers
+
+
+Rick couldn't sleep. He kept trying for a comfortable position, but the
+hitherto excellent bed suddenly seemed full of lumps. His pillow
+wouldn't behave, either. It seemed determined to lump up and deprive him
+of sleep.
+
+His body was tired enough, but his mind kept worrying the problem of the
+Blue Ghost endlessly, going over incidents and details, searching for a
+meaning, a clue that would lead to a conclusion.
+
+What was the reason for the Blue Ghost? If he could only figure that
+much out the rest would follow naturally. If the assumption that the
+ghost was man-made was correct, there had to be some reason for the
+apparition.
+
+So far as he knew, the ghost had had only one effect, and that was to
+reduce drastically the use of the picnic ground in front of the old
+mine. According to the Millers, the grounds were in constant use most
+years, with family parties, group affairs, and young people spending
+considerable time in swimming, eating, ball games, and all the other
+amusements of people who sought the coolness of trees and water to
+escape the Virginia summer heat.
+
+Now use of the grounds was restricted to affairs of long standing that
+it would be inconvenient to change or to cancel.
+
+That was a definite effect, he admitted to himself. But who could profit
+by it?
+
+There was only one possible clue, and that lay in the midnight prowlings
+of the Blue Ghost and his varying number of companions. Turning the
+picnic area into a forbidding place, a haunted ground, would give the
+ghost and friends ample opportunity to roam the upper and lower fields
+without interference.
+
+Only, why roam the fields?
+
+Somehow, the radioactive dust in the cement bags must tie into it, but
+Rick couldn't imagine the connection. He thought of a secret uranium
+strike and rejected it. Empty bags pointed to something gotten rid of,
+not something gained by a discovery.
+
+The thought was intriguing. If he assumed the bags had arrived full,
+what had happened to the contents? He tried to think of uses for the
+powdered ore and couldn't. Even if he could imagine a secret processing
+plant to extract the uranium for some purpose, there wasn't enough. A
+sufficient quantity of ore to provide even a gram of uranium metal would
+mean literally thousands of bags and they had found less than a dozen.
+
+Of course there was the cart Belsely had seen. Rick couldn't credit the
+farmer's notion that the ghost soldiers had been collecting ghost bodies
+of the long-dead. But what had the cart been doing? The very idea of a
+cart led to the idea of something too heavy to be carried without
+mechanical aid. What? Bags of radioactive ore dust?
+
+He was still tossing in his bed and chewing the data fine when the dogs
+began to bark. He listened. The barking was far away, probably a mile or
+more. There were farms on the road to town, and probably all of them had
+dogs.
+
+Scotty spoke in a whisper. "What makes dogs bark at night?"
+
+"Maybe a fox," Rick replied.
+
+"Or a ghost?"
+
+Rick sat bolt upright. "Maybe!"
+
+Scotty swung to a sitting position on the side of his bed. "I've been
+listening to you twisting and turning for an hour. If you're going to
+keep me awake, it might as well be useful. What say we go look?"
+
+Rick looked at the luminous dial of his watch. It was past midnight. "No
+chases ending in quarries?"
+
+Scotty's chuckle was low. "No chases. Listen a minute!"
+
+Rick held his breath, and heard what Scotty's keen ears had detected.
+There was the sound of a car somewhere far away. He couldn't tell the
+direction, but he was sure it was not the road from town because the
+bedroom windows opened on the town side of the farmhouse.
+
+The night was clear and still, and sounds would carry great distances.
+The car might even be on the main highway, about five miles away.
+
+"Let's get going," Rick said softly. He fumbled for his clothes on the
+chair at the foot of his bed and dressed quietly. Scotty was doing the
+same on his own side of the room.
+
+They checked flashlights, then started down the stairs. The treads
+creaked noisily, as is the case in old houses, and Dr. Miller's voice
+stopped them.
+
+"Going spook hunting?"
+
+"Yes, sir," Rick replied softly. "We're going to see why the dogs are
+barking."
+
+"No chases," the scientist warned. "If you should see anything, stay
+away from it. Watch from a respectful distance."
+
+"We will," Rick promised.
+
+Outside, the night was lighted only by stars and a crescent moon. Trees
+were dark shapes against the lighter darkness of the night as the boys
+made their way through the orchard. They headed for the plane, intending
+to stop at the edge of the orchard to reconnoiter.
+
+The field before them stretched dark and empty to the trees along the
+creek, except for the angular bulk of the plane. Rick watched and
+listened with every sense alert. Insects hummed now and then, but that
+was all.
+
+"Let's get to the tree belt," Scotty said in a whisper. "We can watch
+both fields from there."
+
+"Okay." Rick led the way at a half trot that covered ground rapidly. In
+a few minutes they were across the creek and among the trees. They
+slowed their pace, stopping now and then to listen. The dogs were still
+barking, but the noise came from far away, on the other side of the hill
+in which the mine was located.
+
+Scotty took the lead as they approached the picnic grounds. He was
+noiseless as a shadow, and Rick tried hard to step exactly in his
+footprints to avoid any noise.
+
+Using the great oaks for cover, Scotty moved to the picnic grounds,
+among the tables and stone cooking pits. Suddenly he took Rick's arm and
+squeezed. Rick stopped instantly, ready for whatever action was
+indicated.
+
+Scotty put his lips to Rick's ear. "Look around the tree, on top of the
+mine in the upland cornfield. Be very careful."
+
+Rick moved into position, then with extreme caution he peered around the
+protecting tree. The first thing he saw on the hill was the Blue Ghost,
+not in his apparition form, but as the human-headed light they had
+chased. Then he realized that he was also seeing a form under the light,
+a human shape silhouetted faintly against the dark sky!
+
+He choked back an exclamation. There were two other shapes, unlighted,
+but clearly human. This was what the tenant farmer had seen! But what
+were they doing in the cornfield? In a moment it became clear. The three
+were coming his way!
+
+Scotty squeezed his shoulder and pointed up. Rick realized suddenly that
+they were hiding behind the oak in which they had watched unsuccessfully
+for the Blue Ghost. He jumped for the lowest branch and quickly hauled
+himself into the protecting foliage. Scotty was close behind him.
+
+Through openings in the foliage they saw the Blue Ghost make his way
+down the hillside with his two companions, saw the three pause at the
+basin in which the ghost made his public appearances. Rick shuddered as
+he heard soft, ghostly laughter. He was convinced that he watched three
+men, but the memory of the bitter, burning cold on his face was still
+too fresh and green not to feel a reaction.
+
+The ghostly trio continued down the slope to the picnic grounds and
+turned to the road that led to the bridge. Rick would have given much
+for enough moonlight to see details, but he could see only the three
+vague shapes. He thought the figure with the softly lighted apparatus on
+his head carried something in one hand, but he wasn't sure.
+
+Not until the trio passed out of sight behind the trees did the boys
+descend from the tree, then they paused for a whispered consultation
+that couldn't have been heard three feet away.
+
+"They must be heading for the field where the plane is parked," Rick
+guessed. "We want to keep an eye on them."
+
+"That we will," Scotty assured him. "Follow me, old son. We're making
+real progress tonight!"
+
+Scotty led the way through the tree belt to the bank of the creek. He
+paused in the trees long enough to be sure the ghost trio had crossed
+the creek, then picked positions behind the earthworks erected by
+Confederate soldiers long ago.
+
+Rick watched the ghosts--for he thought of them by that useful term even
+though he now knew they were mortal--as they walked slowly across the
+field. He saw them pause, and saw the dark figures shorten as they bent
+over. He took a bearing on the spot, using the dim shape of his plane
+for one reference and the bridge for another. He thought he could locate
+the position again by daylight.
+
+In a moment the three moved on again, while Rick watched, puzzled. He
+felt Scotty move and put his head close to hear what his pal had to say.
+"They had to come from somewhere, and I suspect it was by car. They
+didn't come up the road to town, so they must have used the road in the
+valley on the other side of the hill. I'm going to take a look. If
+there's a car there, I can at least get a license number. You watch 'em.
+If I'm not back by the time they cross to this side, don't worry. I
+won't get caught. Just go on home and wait for me."
+
+Rick whispered an okay, and Scotty melted into the night with the
+noiseless skill that Rick so much admired. Then he turned his attention
+to the ghosts once more.
+
+Rick counted five stops in various parts of the field. After the last
+one, the trio turned, recrossed the bridge, moving briskly, climbed the
+hill, and disappeared into the cornfield. Mission accomplished,
+apparently. What had the mission been?
+
+According to Belsely, this happened each time, except for the occasion
+when a cart had been used. What were they hunting? Or, if they weren't
+hunting, what were they doing? Rick felt frustrated. To be so close, yet
+to be unable to see anything but vague shapes in the darkness!
+
+Tomorrow he and Scotty would search both fields in an effort to find
+what the Blue Ghost sought, or to try to figure out what he and his
+friends were doing.
+
+Scotty caught up with him as he was crossing the field by his plane. The
+dark-haired boy was triumphant. "They had a car, all right, and the
+registration was in a container on the steering wheel. I've got all the
+dope. Probably I shouldn't have done it, but I sneaked a quick look at
+the name. Can you imagine what it is?"
+
+"Jethro Collins?"
+
+"Nope. It's Hilleboe. Dr. Miller's next-door neighbor!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+The Cold, Cold Clue
+
+
+The boys were late to breakfast the following morning. They had fallen
+into bed, pleased and exhausted, and the noise of the household stirring
+had failed to waken them.
+
+Mrs. Miller greeted them as they came downstairs. "I hear you were ghost
+hunting again last night. Did you find any?"
+
+"I'll say we did," Scotty replied. "Where is Dr. Miller?"
+
+"Right here," the scientist said from the living-room doorway. "And I
+have news for you. Collins called this morning and renewed his offer. I
+told him I'd think about it and let him know later. And Steve Ames
+called. The powder is definitely carnotite, and it matches ore produced
+on the Colorado Plateau. Steve has reported to the Atomic Energy
+Commission, and they'll be able to track down its origin without too
+much difficulty, since no two ores are precisely alike. Now, how did you
+two do last night?"
+
+The two girls came into the kitchen in time to hear the question, and
+Rick almost hated to give the answer, knowing that it would disillusion
+them, and particularly Barby.
+
+"We trailed three ghosts," he said. "All human."
+
+Scotty added, "And one of them was named Carleton Hilleboe. At least
+that was the name on the registration of their car."
+
+They told the story in detail while Mrs. Miller and Jan fried eggs and
+bacon and made toast for their breakfast. Barby listened quietly, but if
+Rick had any idea she would be convinced, he was mistaken. When the
+recital ended she pointed out, "There's no reason why mortals shouldn't
+take advantage of a ghost. You still haven't proved that the ghost at
+the mine isn't real, or how the cold almost knocked you out last night."
+
+"True," Rick had to admit. "We're not making much progress there."
+
+Over breakfast Dr. Miller told them about the Hilleboes. "They were one
+of the big families in this vicinity two or three decades ago. They had
+the biggest house in this part of Virginia, but it burned down about
+twenty years ago and the kids moved away. There is no house on their
+land now. They rent some of the land to tenants. Carleton Hilleboe is
+the eldest son. He's in a business of some kind in Washington. He either
+controls or owns the property, I'm not sure which."
+
+"Including the upland cornfield above the mine?" Rick asked.
+
+"Yes, and all the property to the east of ours for a mile or two."
+
+"Could he be the mysterious buyer Collins is acting for?" Rick asked.
+
+"It's possible, although why he would want our share of the mine and the
+field opposite is beyond me. I think a talk with Collins is in order. If
+you two want to come to town with me, I think I'll beard him in his den.
+I've no intention of selling, but I won't tell him that."
+
+On the way to town the boys agreed it would be best for Dr. Miller to
+talk with Collins alone. He obviously didn't like young people--at least
+them--and he would be more apt to confide in Dr. Miller if the scientist
+interviewed him alone.
+
+The scientist agreed. "Why don't you two wait in the drugstore? You can
+have a coke or something."
+
+Dr. Miller parked the car in front of Collins' house and the boys
+crossed the street to the drugstore. Although it was early in the day,
+both ordered a dish of ice cream. They were eating it and exchanging
+small talk with the druggist when the Frostola scooter pulled up
+outside. Both tensed as the Frostola man came in, but he greeted them
+impersonally and turned to the druggist. "I'd like a tin of aspirin,
+please."
+
+"That infected hangnail still bothering you?" the druggist asked
+sympathetically.
+
+"No, it's okay today," the peddler answered swiftly. "I've got a slight
+headache, that's all."
+
+He paid for the aspirin, accepted the druggist's offer of a glass of
+water, downed two pills, and left.
+
+"Seemed in a hurry," Rick commented.
+
+The druggist nodded. "Seemed so. He usually stops to pass the time of
+day. Had a terrible time yesterday with an infected hangnail. They can
+be pretty painful. I tried to sell him a new analgesic ointment, but he
+insisted on methyl chloride. He had an old refillable prescription from
+some doctor over in Arlington. Said he got it because infected hangnails
+bother him all the time. Lucky I had some. It used to be used all the
+time for pain from superficial wounds, but it went out of style. He
+bought a whole pint. Enough to last for fifty hangnails. Told him he
+didn't need it, but he insisted."
+
+Rick said thoughtfully, "His hands seemed to be all right today. No
+bandages."
+
+"All he had was a plastic-tape bandage around his thumb yesterday,
+anyway. Guess the infection must have cleared up."
+
+"What's methyl chloride?" Rick asked.
+
+"A highly volatile chemical. It's not a painkiller in the usual sense,
+like aspirin. You spray it on the area that hurts, and it evaporates in
+seconds. You know what that does."
+
+Rick did! And suddenly last night's events were perfectly, transparently
+clear.
+
+"Evaporation cools the surface," Rick said for Scotty's benefit. "The
+faster the evaporation, the faster the cooling. This methyl chloride
+must act pretty fast."
+
+"It does," the druggist agreed. "That's how it kills pain, partly. It
+chills the outer layer of skin almost instantly."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+The Missing Facts
+
+
+Dr. Miller's conversation with Jethro Collins was something less than
+satisfactory. He told the boys about it on the way home.
+
+"I told him bluntly that I was suspicious about his offer because the
+property he wants to buy has little value as farm land and contains no
+timber or anything else of commercial value. I told him I wouldn't
+consider an offer until I knew what the land was to be used for."
+
+The scientist chuckled. "That was my way of putting him on a spot, of
+course. But he refused to be cornered. He replied that his customer
+wanted the land for reasons of his own, which it was not Collins' place
+to divulge. He assured me the land would not be used for commercial
+purposes, so my own property would be quite safe.
+
+"I replied that I needed more assurances than his word, and demanded to
+know the identity of his client. I pointed out that the name would
+become known during the process of settlement anyway, unless his client
+proposed to use a dummy of some sort in which to register the deed to
+the land."
+
+"But he wouldn't tell you the name," Rick guessed.
+
+"Correct. My guess is that he would use a dummy of some sort, perhaps
+even Collins himself as nominal owner of the land."
+
+Scotty offered, "People don't buy land unless it has some value for
+something. Can't you think of any way in which your land has value?"
+
+"I'm afraid not. I've tried to puzzle it out, with no success. The field
+itself is all right, if fertilized and limed, but the rest is worthless
+for farming. There isn't even an access road. The road leading into the
+picnic area and across the creek to the house is my own property. It's a
+private road."
+
+Rick kept wondering about the radioactive ore. "Could there be any
+minerals worth mining?"
+
+"Not even that, Rick. Except for the igneous outcropping in which the
+mine is located, this whole valley is sedimentary rock, probably for a
+depth of several hundred feet. Even the foothills are the same kind of
+rock. They were moved upward from what is now the valley during a shift
+in the earth's crust. The faults in the formation show this clearly."
+
+"The whole business is tied together somehow," Rick said with
+conviction. "So far we've been trying to follow threads. We come across
+other threads that seem to run crossways, but that's because what we're
+trying to see is a whole piece of cloth, not just the threads. So far we
+don't know if the cloth is a whole suit or just a handkerchief."
+
+"The metaphor is a little obscure, but I get your meaning, and I agree."
+Dr. Miller drew to a stop in the driveway of his home. "Suppose we have
+a late morning bit of refreshment and use our heads instead of our
+legs?"
+
+At the scientist's request, the girls produced a snack of toast and jam
+with iced tea and soft drinks. Mrs. Miller begged to be excused from the
+council because of housework to be done, but the others gathered in the
+living room to explore the mystery from every angle.
+
+Dr. Miller led the discussion. The scientist was obviously intrigued by
+the problem, even though he had let the boys handle things in their own
+way. As he explained with a twinkle, "Rick and Scotty have reputations
+as detectives to maintain. I'm a poor, simple physicist. No one expects
+me to solve this mystery. So the boys have to be given first chance to
+bring the ghost to bay."
+
+Barby sniffed. "You're all pretty sure the ghost is a fake."
+
+"And you're not," Rick observed. "I guess we'll have to put him in a
+bottle for you before you'll believe it."
+
+"Peace," Dr. Miller interposed. "Each to his or her own opinions. We're
+here in pursuit of facts, not fancies. Rick, you're first at bat."
+
+Rick considered. What were the most important facts? They had been
+working on assumptions, but assumptions need proof before they can be
+accepted as valid.
+
+"Well, I'm not sure I'm listing the facts in order of importance, but
+I'll try. First, the ghosts that walk the fields at night are humans."
+
+Barby interrupted. "How can you be certain?"
+
+"They looked human. We saw their silhouettes against the sky clearly
+enough to see their shapes, and they were human shapes." As she started
+to speak again, he held up his hand. "Whoa! Let me finish. Ghosts also
+have human shapes is probably your counterargument. I'm not arguing that
+ghosts don't really exist, but if they do, they are supposed to be sort
+of nonsolid, aren't they? Like the Blue Ghost at the mine. But the field
+ones were solid enough. No light showed through them."
+
+"Not all ghosts are transparent," Barby insisted.
+
+"She's got you." Dr. Miller chuckled.
+
+Scotty spoke up. "Ghosts do not drive cars."
+
+"And you've no proof the ghosts you saw in the field came from the car,"
+Barby defended hotly. "Did you see them get in the car and drive away?"
+
+Scotty held up his hands in surrender. "No. I passed them on my way back
+from the car."
+
+"Evidence not sufficient," Dr. Miller said with a grin. "The ghosts may
+or may not be human. Your first fact needs more proof, Rick. Carry on."
+
+Rick sighed. "All right. I'll start over again. First, we have uncovered
+cement bags that contained radioactive ore, pulverized into a fine dust.
+I'll amend that. The bags contain a small quantity of radioactive ore,
+which gives some reason for believing they were once full of such ore."
+
+The group laughed. "Now you're on the beam," Dr. Miller approved. "State
+only what you know as fact and identify what you infer from the facts as
+inference or speculation."
+
+"Glad you all approve. Second, we believe the Frostola man was
+interested in the cement bag Scotty carried. It is a fact that when we
+returned from town the cement bag that we put in the trash can, and the
+cement bags we left where we found them, had been removed. Because of
+the Frostola man's apparent interest, we are of the opinion he took the
+bags."
+
+Jan Miller giggled. "You sound like a lawyer."
+
+"I feel like one," Rick returned with a grin.
+
+"Third, the Blue Ghost led Scotty and me on a wild chase that ended up
+with me dropping into the quarry. The facts are that the ghost somehow
+triggered the plane alarm. We will not argue whether or not a real ghost
+could have set off a purely physical, nonspiritual alarm."
+
+Barby nodded soberly, but there was a twinkle in her blue eyes.
+
+"Continuing with the facts of that incident, the ghost stayed ahead of
+us without difficulty. A real ghost could have done that, I suppose, but
+so could any person in reasonable physical shape who knew the terrain.
+Now, the ghost's light went off as he reached the edge of the quarry, or
+somewhere in the vicinity of the edge."
+
+Rick looked at his sister. "I will stipulate that a real ghost need not
+have any reason for his actions. But a person imitating a ghost would
+have had to turn off his light in order to go around the quarry,
+otherwise we would have seen that he made a detour. A ghost would
+presumably float right over the quarry."
+
+"Ghosts do float," Barby agreed solemnly.
+
+"Uh-uh. Since this one did not, and since it reappeared--or the light
+did--on the opposite side of the quarry, we believe there was a
+deliberate attempt to lead us into said quarry."
+
+He paused and took a deep breath. "How am I doing, coach?"
+
+Dr. Miller nodded approval. "Fine. See how easy it is to separate fact
+and conjecture?"
+
+"So what do we conclude from this one event? We conclude it is
+reasonable to believe that a person, and not a spook, triggered the
+plane alarm and led us to the quarry. We speculate that the person did
+not know about the alarm and set it off by accident, probably while
+inspecting the plane, since we see nothing to be gained by sabotage. We
+speculate that the chase was to frighten us, not primarily to harm us,
+the reason being that we rushed the ghost during the ghost act and are
+therefore potentially dangerous. We reach this conclusion because the
+ghost picked a side of the quarry where we would land in the water,
+which is plenty deep by the way, and not on the rocks."
+
+"Okay. Scotty, take over. I'm worn out from trying to be precise."
+
+The scientist grinned. "Lack of practice, I'm afraid. If we all sought
+precision in our speech many of the world's misunderstandings could be
+avoided."
+
+"I don't know what we can say," Scotty objected. "We have few facts. We
+have only some observations. We can try to interpret our observations,
+but we can't prove them. For instance, there is the fact that we were
+given a bath of something by the Blue Ghost that seemed to freeze our
+faces. There is the fact that the Frostola man bought a quantity of
+methyl chloride. There is the fact that methyl chloride could have
+produced the effect we felt. But how can we say that it's a fact that
+the Frostola man somehow doused us with chemical?"
+
+"You can't," Jan Miller agreed.
+
+"So if we stick to demonstrable facts, we don't get far," the scientist
+concluded. "But can we settle for mere speculation?"
+
+"No, sir," Rick stated. "But let's admit that speculation has its uses.
+After all, circumstantial evidence is permitted in court. Speculation
+can give us the circumstances that need to be proved, and that tells us
+where to put our efforts. I think that's fair enough."
+
+"So do I," Dr. Miller agreed.
+
+Rick arose. "Then we'll continue working the way we've been doing it.
+It's not the best way, but at least we're uncovering little items that
+can be tied together if we find just two missing facts."
+
+"Like what?" Barby demanded.
+
+"We go back to our assumption that the ghost is man-made. On this
+assumption, the things we need to know are _how_ and _why_ is the ghost
+produced?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+Trapped!
+
+
+It was, as Rick said, time for action and not for words. He and Scotty
+set out to track down every possible shred of evidence. They armed
+themselves with flashlights, and Rick made sure he had his pocket lens,
+and they started out.
+
+The first stop was in the field, to locate the places where last night's
+ghostly party had paused.
+
+As the boys walked across the field toward the plane, Rick wondered
+aloud. "What did the ghost want with the plane?"
+
+"Sabotage?" Scotty asked.
+
+"Maybe. But if so, why?"
+
+"Because he was afraid of what we might see from the air, maybe."
+
+Rick considered. "It could be, I suppose, but we've examined the whole
+area from the plane. I didn't see anything suspicious or particularly
+interesting."
+
+"Not a thing," Scotty confirmed. "But it might be a good idea to take
+another look."
+
+"Okay. We can do it later this afternoon. Now, according to what I
+remember, the first stop the ghosts made was right about here. Let's
+work like hunting dogs and see what we can turn up."
+
+Rick dropped his handkerchief on a clump of bachelor's-buttons for a
+marker, then he and Scotty walked in ever-widening circles, scanning the
+ground for any trace of the ghosts.
+
+Scotty's keen eyes saw the first sign, a heelprint in a bare place in
+the grass. The boys examined it. "Doesn't match anyone's shoes," Scotty
+said. "Not of our gang. Leather heels, a little worn, run down on the
+outside edge. You can see the nail marks. No rubber heels would make
+those marks."
+
+There were other prints, now that they were searching closely. Clearly,
+three men had walked the field last night. But nowhere did they find a
+clue to what the men had searched for. There was no raw dirt, no
+impressions left where something had been removed.
+
+"Fact," Rick stated. "Three men were here."
+
+Scotty laughed. "This does not mean there were not also three ghosts who
+left no tracks."
+
+Rick had to laugh, too. "Now what do we do?"
+
+"Look in the upland cornfield."
+
+They started the survey of the cornfield directly above the mine
+entrance, where they had first seen the three ghosts. Tracks were
+visible almost at once.
+
+"We're lucky," Scotty said. "Even with the weeds between the rows
+there's enough bare ground so we can do some real tracking. Let's see
+how the tracks run."
+
+As Scotty had predicted, the tracking was much easier. A few yards into
+the cornfield they came to a gap where a few seeds had failed to
+germinate or the plants had died. It was a bare space, sparsely grown
+with weeds.
+
+Scotty pointed to the three sets of tracks, and put his own feet in one
+set, while Rick did the same with another set. From the position of the
+third set it was clear that the three men had faced each other.
+
+Rick said excitedly, "They paused and bent over. But over what?"
+
+They scrutinized the ground minutely. It seemed normal enough. There was
+absolutely no sign that the earth had been disturbed.
+
+Rick picked up a handful of soil and examined it. "Dirt," he said.
+"Plain dirt. Why was it so interesting to the spooks?"
+
+"Try your lens," Scotty reminded him.
+
+Rick did so. The lens showed the usual combination of mineral and
+organic matter of various sizes and colors. "I can't see anything
+unusual," he reported. "Maybe the lens isn't powerful enough. I'll take
+a sample and look at it under the microscope later." He found a scrap of
+paper in his wallet and folded a bit of dirt into it.
+
+"Let's continue," Scotty urged.
+
+They worked their way across the cornfield, following the tracks. Twice
+more they found places where the ghosts had paused to confer about
+something, or examine something.
+
+Then, at the edge of the cornfield, they lost the tracks in a rank
+growth of weeds. Probably the ghosts had trampled the weeds last night,
+but they had sprung up again and left no trace of the passage.
+
+Scotty took the lead. "I'll show you where the car was parked."
+
+They traveled through alternate weeds and hay to where the hilltop
+dropped away rapidly to a valley about three hundred feet below. This
+marked the end of the igneous outcropping in which the lead mine was
+located, Rick guessed. The hill was steep, and overgrown with blackberry
+bushes.
+
+"I got caught a thousand times in as many feet last night," Scotty
+commented. "It's easy by day, but don't try it by night." He led the way
+through clear spaces between the thorny patches, always going downhill.
+
+It wasn't long before Rick saw the road, if it could be called that. It
+was two ruts with grass growing between them.
+
+"Doesn't look like U.S. Highway Number 66," he remarked.
+
+"There's a man who thinks it is," Scotty replied.
+
+Rick looked to where his pal pointed. The Frostola man was approaching
+on his scooter. The sound of the little motor was just audible, and
+Rick's first impulse was to duck, but Scotty said, "Too late. He saw us
+just as we saw him. Let's walk down to the road and make it casual."
+
+They did so, and the peddler approached, bumping over the uneven
+surface.
+
+"Howdy," he greeted them. "Where does this road go?"
+
+"We don't know," Scotty replied.
+
+Rick added, "We're strangers in the area."
+
+"I'm pretty new myself," the man said cheerfully. "Saw this road and
+thought there might be a settlement where I could find some new
+customers."
+
+"We don't know of any," Rick said.
+
+"Looks like I might as well go back to town, then. Want a lift? You can
+hang onto the step behind me."
+
+"No, thanks," Scotty replied. "We're staying just over the hill."
+
+The Frostola man turned his scooter wagon, gave them a wave, and went on
+his way back toward town. The boys watched until he drove out of sight.
+
+"There's an optimist," Scotty said. "Follows a pair of ruts, hoping to
+find civilization at the other end."
+
+Rick grinned. "He certainly likes this part of Virginia. There's one
+thing about peddling Frostola here--"
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"No customers to bother you. It's easy to commune with Nature."
+
+"Aye-aye. Does he look like a nature lover to you?"
+
+"Now that you mention it, I've seen people who fitted the part better.
+We scared him away, that's for sure. But what was he doing here?"
+
+Scotty considered. "If he wanted to reach the mine area without people
+noticing him, he could park his scooter here and walk over the hill."
+
+"He could," Rick agreed. "But why would he want to reach the mine area?"
+
+"Not to sell Frostola. That's for sure."
+
+"Uh-uh. My guess is he has to reset the Blue Ghost."
+
+"Reset it?"
+
+"Sure. Think about it. The projector can't go on operating forever when
+a clock reaches nine, can it? It must need servicing and resetting."
+
+"And loading with methyl chloride to squirt at us?"
+
+"Too true." Rick had wondered about that. "But how does the chemical
+squirter work? Where is it? The projector must be close to the Blue
+Ghost, if the chemical came from the same place."
+
+Scotty laughed. "You don't discourage easily, do you? We tried to find a
+projector beam the other night, remember? What did we get for it? A
+squirt in the face. No projector, no nothing."
+
+"There has to be a projector, or an imagemaker of some kind," Rick
+insisted, "unless you're admitting the ghost is real."
+
+"Where would it be located?"
+
+"Very close, I'd guess. Hidden somewhere near the spring pool, batteries
+and all. It has to be, and I think we'd better spend some time looking."
+
+"Starting where? Don't tell me--it has to be the mine."
+
+Rick was already walking back up the hill toward the cornfield. "There's
+no other underground location in which a projector could be stored, is
+there? So let's get at it."
+
+"Glad we brought flashlights," was Scotty's only comment.
+
+They hiked in silence to the cornfield, pausing now and then among the
+corn plants to examine footprints. Thanks to the rain that had left the
+ground soft, there were plenty of them, but they told the boys no more
+than they already knew.
+
+At the top of the hill above the mine they paused to survey the scene.
+Belsely was hauling a load of rock through the field near the plane,
+using his tractor and a stoneboat. The boys knew he was busy building a
+stone fence. He saw them and waved. They waved back, then went down the
+hill to the spring and its basin.
+
+Again they examined the entire location with great care, and Scotty
+probed seams in the rock with his jackknife blade. The entire hillside
+in this location was cracked and seamed and the rock face above the
+basin was rough and irregular. Rick wondered if there had ever been an
+earthquake in the neighborhood or whether the settling of the earth into
+the mine has caused the cracking.
+
+"Nothing here," Scotty said. "At least nothing I can see. We'll have to
+try the mine itself."
+
+They had replaced the boards at the entrance, simply pushing the nails
+back into the holes from which they had come. They pulled the boards
+aside and saw footprints--and not their own!
+
+"Visitor," Scotty said with excitement.
+
+Rick noted the size of the tracks. "And a big-footed one, too. Makes our
+tracks look small."
+
+Scotty pointed. "He came out again, whoever he was. Let's see how far he
+went in."
+
+The tracks told the story clearly and quickly. The visitor had gone in
+about twenty feet, and had then returned to the outside. One glance told
+the boys why.
+
+The mine was timbered, with uprights and overhead beams spaced about
+every ten feet. Where the visitor had stopped, the mine timbers were
+supporting a big piece--or many pieces--of the rock overhead. Rick
+guessed that the heavy rain, working through cracks, had loosened a
+section and let its weight fall on the overhead crosspiece. It was also
+clear that the timbers would not support the weight for very long. They
+were rotten, and wet with the constant seepage of water.
+
+"Must have been one of the Sons of the Old Dominion who wandered in for
+a look," Rick suggested. "He saw it wasn't safe and went right out
+again."
+
+"Something like that," Scotty agreed. "And it isn't safe. Those timbers
+would go if anyone breathed hard at them."
+
+"Then let's not breathe hard," Rick said.
+
+"Meaning that we're going in, anyway."
+
+Rick pointed out, with what he thought was complete logic, that the
+timbers had held the roof up since the rain, and that collapse surely
+wouldn't take place in a minute or two. He concluded, "And if we're
+going to find any kind of clue to a projector, it has to be in this mine
+somewhere."
+
+"Then let's not linger," Scotty said. "And for Pete's sake don't stamp
+your feet when you go by the timbers. A little vibration would send them
+down for sure."
+
+Rick asked, "What were the wind and the laughter the last time we were
+in here?"
+
+"Imagination," Scotty replied. "Let's keep it under control this time."
+
+"I'm with you. And ghosts don't blow out flashlights, so let's go."
+
+They moved cautiously past the unsafe place, lights probing the tunnel
+walls for a sign of anything unusual or worthy of attention. Now and
+then they reached a bay where ore had been taken out, or a jog in the
+tunnel where the miners had lost the ore vein temporarily. They reached
+the spot of their penetration into the mine on their last visit and
+found the remains of their torches.
+
+"No change. Thought they might have been chewed by ghosts," Scotty
+commented.
+
+"Newsprint doesn't taste good," Rick replied. "Do ghosts have teeth?"
+
+"Nope, just an icy breath. Do you remember any smell, by the way? When
+we got hit in our faces?"
+
+"Something sort of sweet?"
+
+"Yes. I wasn't thinking about smelling, and I didn't notice especially,
+but I sort of recall a nice odor."
+
+Rick thought he remembered it, too. "We'll look up methyl chloride in
+the dictionary," he promised. "That will tell us if it has an odor."
+
+The mine took a sharp turn. "They lost the vein here and had to chew out
+some rock to find it again," Rick pointed out. "Notice everything is on
+one level? Must have been just one vein. It ran out and the mine closed
+down."
+
+"Looks that way," Scotty agreed. "How far have we come?"
+
+Rick hadn't kept track, but he estimated they were perhaps halfway under
+the hill. "This must end somewhere," he said. "Notice there isn't any
+water at all, not even seepage? I'm still baffled by that spring and the
+pipe."
+
+They traversed another hundred yards in silence, flashlights constantly
+scanning the mine. There was nothing out of the ordinary, no sign of
+ghost, projector, or even of human visitation for dozens of years.
+
+"We're on another wild-goose..." Rick began. He never finished, for
+sound suddenly reverberated through the mine, the sound of rock crashing
+downward.
+
+Both boys turned and ran back toward the entrance, afraid of what they
+would find. Long before they reached it, billowing clouds of dust told
+them what had happened.
+
+Their racing legs confirmed it as they came to a stop against rock that
+choked the tunnel from top to bottom.
+
+[Illustration: _The timber had given way. They were trapped!_]
+
+The timbers had given way. They were trapped!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+In Darkness
+
+
+For one despairing instant the two peered at the fallen rock through the
+thick haze of dust, then Scotty snapped, "Back into clean air."
+
+They retreated the way they had come. Rick clicked off his flashlight
+instinctively. They might need it.
+
+When clean air was reached again they stopped and Scotty swept his
+flashlight beam over the rocky floor. "Pick a seat and get comfortable.
+We'll be here for a while."
+
+"We won't get out of here by sitting down," Rick replied.
+
+"No, and we won't do much until the dust settles, either. Relax and get
+cooled off. When the dust has settled a little, we can go back and see
+just how bad the block is."
+
+Rick remembered the tons of rock above the timbers. The block had to be
+bad, he thought. There was plenty of rock there. Then, as he thought
+about it, he wasn't so sure. A pretty large area had shown cracks, but
+perhaps only a layer had fallen. They might be able to dig out. Nothing
+to do about it but wait and see.
+
+Scotty switched off his light and the blackness closed in. Rick shifted
+uncomfortably. Once before he had been lost in complete blackness like
+this, in the Caves of Fear. But that had been different; he hadn't been
+exactly trapped in the same way then, and the caves had covered miles
+under a Tibetan mountain. At least he knew exactly where he was this
+time.
+
+He said, "We should have brought a picnic lunch."
+
+Scotty chuckled, but didn't reply.
+
+Rick said, "Suppose we can't get out?"
+
+"We will. Dr. Miller will be hunting for us sooner or later. He couldn't
+miss the mine, especially with the boards off the entrance."
+
+"Then all we need is patience and a tight belt."
+
+"That's it."
+
+The boys fell silent. Rick was cheered by Scotty's estimate of the
+situation. He closed his eyes, and for perhaps the hundredth time
+started mulling over the chain of events, searching for a clue to the
+two things they needed to know: how and why the ghost was produced.
+
+But as he thought about it he wondered if perhaps they didn't know why.
+The ghost was a means of keeping people out of the area. It had
+succeeded to a considerable degree. There were no more night family
+picnics and swimming parties. There were only occasional long-scheduled
+events.
+
+He explored the idea. The mine area was private property. To keep people
+out one would need only to post "No Trespassing" signs. But in all
+probability that wouldn't be suitable, because it would raise too many
+questions, and Dr. Miller would have to be let in on the secret of the
+ghosts that walked the fields.
+
+But why keep people out of the area? To be sure, privacy for the conduct
+of secret operations was an obvious reason, only what were the secret
+operations, and why did they have to be kept secret?
+
+He gave up finally. There simply weren't enough data on which to hang a
+conclusion.
+
+"Think the dust has settled?" he asked.
+
+"Could be. Suppose we go take a look. I'll use my light. Save yours."
+
+They followed the yellow beam of Scotty's flashlight through the dark
+tunnel to the rockfall. There was still plenty of dust in the air, but
+it was bearable.
+
+Scotty flashed his light on the timbers, then on the rockslide. One pair
+of uprights arose from the sloping pile of rock to a sound crosspiece.
+
+Both boys knew what that meant. Rick put it into words. "If that's the
+set of timbers nearest to the ones that were bad, it means at least ten
+feet of rock on this side, and probably the same or even more on the
+other. A total of twenty feet of rock."
+
+Scotty grunted. "One thing is for sure. We won't dig our own way out for
+a few days. I'm not even sure we can. We might collapse from lack of
+water if we try working real hard."
+
+"But we can't wait for help from the outside," Rick pointed out. "We can
+at least work while we still have our health."
+
+"Can you work in the darkness?"
+
+"I suppose we'll have to. The lights won't last long."
+
+"Then let's get to it."
+
+They retreated to an alcove and put their shirts in a safe place, then
+went to work in their T shirts. Lugging rocks would work up a sweat, and
+it was chilly underground. The shirts were for use during rest periods.
+
+"Let's see how it goes," Scotty invited, and turned off his light.
+
+Rick groped for a rock and found a good-sized one. He carried it back
+and promptly bumped into a wall and dropped it. Keeping a straight line
+was going to be a problem. He groped for the rock and found it again,
+but this time he tucked it under one arm, using the opposite hand to
+guide him along the wall.
+
+"I'm on the right-hand wall," he told Scotty. "I'll return along the
+left-hand wall."
+
+"Good system," Scotty approved.
+
+It was, too. They passed each other in the dark and Rick was pleased,
+until he tripped on a rock and stumbled into the pile.
+
+"We're going to have to count paces," he said ruefully as he nursed a
+bruised knee. "Say twenty paces up and twenty paces back."
+
+"Better make it twice that," Scotty replied. "We can't pile all the
+rocks in one place. We'll have to spread them out."
+
+"Forty it is," Rick agreed, and found another rock.
+
+The work went on, gradually assuming the proportions of a dream--or a
+nightmare. Pick up a rock, tote it forty paces, drop it. Then
+thirty-five paces as the passageway got cluttered. Now and then they had
+to join forces to lug a particularly big piece.
+
+Rick's watch showed him that two hours had gone by. "Let's take a
+break," he suggested.
+
+"Okay."
+
+Scotty turned on his light. They found their shirts, then went back to
+survey what they had accomplished.
+
+One glance told them it wasn't much. They had cleaned out the passage up
+to the main slide, and that was all.
+
+They looked at each other in the flashlight's glow.
+
+"Got any earth-moving equipment in your pocket?" Rick asked wryly.
+
+"Not a dragline or a clamshell," Scotty said. "We certainly didn't make
+much of a dent, did we?"
+
+"At this rate we'll be here until Christmas," Rick said.
+
+"Not that we'll need a Christmas tree."
+
+"We could use the lights," Rick commented. "Let's keep plugging. I'm not
+so sure I need a rest after all."
+
+"Might as well."
+
+"Just sitting on the rocks will sap our strength, anyway," Rick pointed
+out. "We might as well work while we're still fresh. We can take
+five-minute breaks when we begin to tire."
+
+"I'm with you. Tote those rocks."
+
+"Let's use one light, too. No point in just clearing the tunnel. We want
+to break through in as short a time as possible. If we use the light we
+can pull rocks from nearer the top of the slide."
+
+"Sensible as usual. I'll prop my light so it shines on the slide."
+
+Scotty did so, then both boys shed their shirts once more.
+
+The rock hauling went faster even with the rays of the single
+flashlight. They took turns climbing the slide and throwing rocks down.
+The boy taking a turn at the bottom moved them out of the way.
+
+"Watch it!" Rick yelled suddenly, and jumped away from a slide of rock.
+Scotty, who was back in the tunnel disposing of a big rock, asked
+anxiously, "Are you hurt?"
+
+"No. Hand me that light, will you?"
+
+Scotty carried the light to where Rick waited. Rick took it and shone it
+upward to where the slide had come from. He whistled. There was solid
+ceiling, but it was a yard higher than the rest of the tunnel ceiling.
+
+He calculated quickly. "If this is typical, we have rock three feet
+thick, ten feet wide, and twenty feet long piled up in front of us. That
+makes six hundred cubic feet of rock."
+
+"But it can't be typical," Scotty disagreed. "If three feet had fallen
+uniformly, it wouldn't have filled the tunnel. It must be much thicker
+right over the broken timbers."
+
+"Not a very cheerful prospect, is it?" Rick had a vision of yards of
+rock ahead.
+
+"I've seen happier prospects. But what can we do? Keep plugging is all,
+and hope it doesn't take long for Dr. Miller to locate us."
+
+Rick looked at his watch. "No chance of that yet. It isn't even
+suppertime. It may be morning before Dr. Miller gets really worried."
+
+Scotty chuckled grimly. "Our own reputation for being able to take care
+of ourselves is not helping us, either."
+
+"I'll never go into a place without two entrances again," Rick promised.
+
+There was a moment's shocked silence while the boys stared at each
+other. They spoke simultaneously.
+
+"How do you know this has only one entrance?"
+
+"How do we know this hasn't two entrances?"
+
+They had never reached the end of the mine. For all they knew, it might
+only be necessary to walk out!
+
+"We'll go see," Rick stated. "Right now."
+
+"Didn't we ever ask about another entrance?" Scotty demanded.
+
+"No, now that I think of it, and no one ever said anything about it."
+
+"Maybe they never said anything because there isn't anything to say."
+
+"No more assumptions," Rick said. "We can find out for ourselves. Get
+your shirt on and let's go."
+
+They quickly dressed and hiked down the long tunnel to the point they
+had reached when the cave-in occurred. Rick paid more attention to the
+formation than before, and found it was easy to trace the ore vein.
+Pockets in the walls showed where offshoots of the main ore vein had
+been located and dug out, but mostly the mine bored through the hill in
+one continuous tunnel.
+
+"Funny they didn't take more ore out of the top," Scotty commented.
+"Looks like fairly decent stuff overhead and to the left."
+
+"Not good enough, I guess. Refining was pretty primitive in those days.
+Techniques are better now, but there probably isn't enough good ore here
+to make new operations worth the expense of getting it out."
+
+"Look ahead," Scotty said.
+
+Rick had been examining the wall of the tunnel. He turned and looked to
+where Scotty pointed, and his heart sank. It was another rockslide.
+
+"Funny," Scotty commented. "The tunnel goes uphill to the slide."
+
+Rick saw that his pal was right. But the change in elevation of the
+tunnel didn't seem important compared to the prospect that now faced
+them. They simply had to go back and resume their rock hauling. There
+was no way of knowing whether the tunnel continued beyond the slide, or
+whether the slide itself was the reason the Civil War miners had gone no
+farther.
+
+"I need a rest," Rick said, discouraged. "Let's sit down and take a
+breather before we start back."
+
+"Okay. Douse the light?"
+
+"Might as well. Your battery's getting low."
+
+Scotty switched the light off and they sat down on the hard rock floor.
+Rick closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Plenty of hard work ahead. He
+might as well rest while he could.
+
+Scotty spoke suddenly. "Plenty of good fresh air down here. Isn't that a
+little odd?"
+
+Rick stirred. "Is it? I hadn't thought much about it. But I suppose the
+air ought to be stale and smelly."
+
+"Wet your finger."
+
+"Huh? Oh, okay." It was the ancient trick of using the cooling caused by
+evaporation of moisture from a damp finger to show the movement of air
+currents. Rick let out an exclamation. The air in the tunnel was in
+motion!
+
+Scotty said with suppressed excitement, "Close your eyes. I'm going to
+light a match."
+
+Rick did so, and saw the light even through closed eyelids because his
+pupils were fully dilated. He opened his eyes cautiously, squinting
+against the glare of the match. As the pupils contracted he saw that the
+paper match burned brightly, and that the flame flickered!
+
+Scotty jumped to his feet, switching on the flashlight. "The breeze is
+coming from the slide!"
+
+With one accord they rushed to the slide and began pulling rocks away.
+Clearly, the tunnel sloped upward at this point. The question was, did
+it emerge in a real opening, or only in a hole driven through for
+ventilation?
+
+There was only one way to find out: move rock!
+
+They sought for key rocks, those that would allow other rocks to tumble
+down and out of the way.
+
+Rick thought it was at least to their credit that they learned from
+experience. Then, as he jumped frantically to escape a sliding boulder,
+he had to grin at his own thought. They had learned, but not enough.
+
+There was no doubt about it, a current of air came through the slide.
+They could feel it, cool and fresh, and redoubled their efforts.
+
+Finally they had to slow down from sheer exhaustion.
+
+"Take a break," Rick said huskily. "We'd be foolish to wear ourselves
+out."
+
+"You're right." Scotty slumped down where he was and wiped his face.
+"That air current is getting stronger. We're making progress."
+
+"Wish I knew toward what," Rick said.
+
+"Air, anyway. And where there's a source of air is also daylight."
+
+"I'd feel better if I could see some."
+
+They rested in silence for five minutes by Rick's watch, then resumed,
+working as close to the top of the pile as they could get.
+
+Scotty suddenly let out a yell, and Rick dodged to escape another rock,
+then leaped down as the whole pile crumbled. The rocks didn't fall far.
+
+"Look," Scotty said breathlessly.
+
+Rick turned on his own light to supplement the dim beam of Scotty's.
+Blackness yawned at the top of the slide!
+
+Scotty was first through the hole, but Rick was right behind him. They
+emerged in a continuation of the tunnel, but on a higher level. Their
+lights showed that the tunnel continued.
+
+They followed it for perhaps fifty feet, and found themselves in a cross
+tunnel in which their tunnel ended.
+
+Scotty looked at Rick in the beam of the flashlight.
+
+"We're somewhere," he said. "But where?"
+
+Rick grinned. There was a definite breeze blowing, and he knew the
+outside and safety were not far away. "We're in the mine, under the same
+old hill. Soon as we find the source of that breeze, I'll identify our
+position within two feet."
+
+Scotty returned the grin. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+The First Fact
+
+
+Rick said, "Hold it a minute. Which way do we go? If we assume the
+tunnel we came out of was fairly constant in direction, we should turn
+right to come out on the side of the hill where we saw the Frostola man
+a while ago. If we turn left, we go deeper into the hill."
+
+Both boys saw the implication the moment the words left Rick's lips.
+"Right it is," Rick added quickly. "First thing we have to do is see if
+there really is a way out."
+
+They turned right into the cross tunnel, and met the breeze head on. So
+long as they followed the direction of the breeze, they were approaching
+the outside air.
+
+Within a hundred feet they saw a glimmer of daylight and broke into a
+run. The glimmer became an opening, irregular in shape, but obviously
+big enough for an entrance.
+
+"We made it!" Rick exulted. "Let's get a good look at that sunshine!"
+
+"Careful," Scotty cautioned. "We'll have to let our eyes adjust fully or
+the glare will hurt. Besides, it may not be a good idea to go barging
+out into the open. Might be some ghosts hanging around."
+
+"You're right. Anyway, let's take a brief look. What's blocking the
+opening?"
+
+As they approached he saw that it was the trunk of a fallen tree,
+festooned with blackberry bushes. When they looked through the entrance,
+blinking in the light, they saw that the tree wasn't really a block,
+because there was plenty of room to crawl out of the tunnel.
+
+"That trunk makes a mighty good shield," Scotty said thoughtfully. "Bet
+this entrance is invisible ten feet away, except from the air!"
+
+"And I'll add my own bet, that the entrance is very close to where we
+met the Frostola man this morning, and that he wonders if we spotted it
+from the plane."
+
+Scotty shook his head. "No betting on sure things. This explains the
+interest in the plane, all right. Stand by, old son. I'm going to make a
+quick recon and be sure the coast is clear."
+
+"Okay. Eyes adjusted?"
+
+"Enough." Scotty went through the entrance on hands and knees. Rick saw
+his legs as he stood up and surveyed the scene.
+
+"Come on out," Scotty called. "We're alone."
+
+Rick joined him. The fallen tree trunk came above their knees. As Scotty
+had said, it made an effective shield for the mine entrance.
+
+Rick studied the entrance itself. Probably it had once been a regular
+timbered entrance, like the one on the other side of the hill, but it
+had fallen in, the rocks wedging to form a low passage into the tunnel
+inside. The whole hillside was overgrown with brambles, down to the
+two-rut road below them, almost at the place where they had met the
+peddler.
+
+"We were within fifty feet of this entrance," Rick said, "and never
+suspected it."
+
+"The Frostola man knew it. Do you think he thought we knew it?"
+
+"Possible, I suppose. I'm not so interested in what he thinks as I am in
+what he was doing here. Where would we have ended if we had taken the
+left-hand turn, do you suppose?"
+
+"Why suppose? Unless you've had enough of mines for one day, we can go
+back in and find out."
+
+"I've had enough, but not enough to miss a chance like this. My
+flashlight is still strong and it shouldn't take more than a few
+minutes."
+
+"Then let's go. No telling when a spook may visit the mine from this
+end. Of course there's no telling about Uncle Frostola, either. He may
+be inside."
+
+That hadn't occurred to Rick. He thought it over, then shrugged. "We
+might as well take the chance. If he is inside, that proves something,
+and we're two to his one. Besides, it's late, and any sensible man is
+eating his supper. Come on."
+
+He led the way back into the cave, but because of the peddler's possible
+presence, he wasn't as headlong in his traversing of the tunnel as he
+might otherwise have been.
+
+They passed the side tunnel from which they had emerged a short time
+before and entered entirely new territory. It wasn't unlike the rest of
+the mine, consisting of a main bore with some alcoves indicating either
+deviations of the ore vein or niches cut to allow ore carts to pass.
+
+Walking rapidly, but alert for either sound or light, they traveled
+through the tunnel at a good speed.
+
+"We've been walking quite a while," Rick said finally. "How long do you
+suppose this shaft is?"
+
+Scotty thought it over. "It can't be any longer than the hill is wide,
+because we're traveling through the hill. It must be about the same
+length as the lower tunnel."
+
+"Why two tunnels?" Rick asked. "I doubt that there were two veins of
+ore."
+
+Scotty reminded him of the good ore they had seen in the ceiling of the
+lower tunnel. "There might have been just one vein, about two tunnels
+high. They were limited to pick and shovel for tools in those days,
+remember, maybe with a little powder for blasting. It would have been
+more convenient to work within range of tools like shovel and pick. So
+the ceiling is as high as a man with a pick can reach, and as wide as
+the ore vein was wide. That's a little confused, but I'm sure you follow
+me."
+
+"Sounds reasonable," Rick agreed. "Only this tunnel can't go on much
+farther, or we'll be in the middle of the picnic--Hey! Scotty, take a
+look!"
+
+Ahead in the tunnel was a box, and on the box was metal that reflected
+the flashlight's beam. In a second the boys stood over it.
+
+Rick's heart pounded rapidly. Here was the proof. Here was Missing Fact
+Number One. Here was verification of at least part of their speculation.
+
+An eight-millimeter motion-picture projector!
+
+Rick motioned to the front of the machine with a trembling hand. "Look,
+there's a film in place, and it's a continuous loop. Once it's threaded
+it will repeat over and over unless cut off."
+
+Scotty was probing into the box. "Batteries. Two of them, twelve volts
+each. And I'll bet the motor in the projector is designed to operate on
+twelve volts. There's even a hydrometer for testing the batteries."
+
+Rick took a look. As Scotty had said, there were two automobile
+batteries, their cables running up into the projector.
+
+"Simple enough," he commented. "Let's see what's on the film."
+
+He opened the film gate gingerly and removed the film from the
+sprockets. Then, without disengaging the spindles, he put the flashlight
+behind it and bent close. The eight-millimeter frames were pretty small,
+but not so small that he and Scotty couldn't make out the image.
+
+The scene had been shot against a black background, that was clear. Only
+the central figure was illuminated, the figure of a Union cavalry
+officer.
+
+"Meet the Blue Ghost," Rick said happily.
+
+"Delighted," Scotty said emphatically. "I suppose I shouldn't admit it,
+but deep down, way back in the primitive part of my thick head, I was
+sometimes guilty of wondering about this creature."
+
+Rick held out his hand. "Shake hands with another superstitious
+chucklehead. So was I. But let it be said to our credit that neither of
+us was so scared we were afraid to move."
+
+He chuckled. "Of course there were times when I just had to keep my poor
+icy spine from freezing solid." He replaced the film on the sprockets
+and closed the gate with great care.
+
+"The projector is aimed at the wall," Scotty pointed out, "right at the
+end of the tunnel. How does it get to where people can see it?"
+
+"There has to be a way," Rick said. He swept the beam of his light
+around and it steadied on an iron pipe. "Hey, look!"
+
+The pipe entered through the end of the tunnel, threaded into a
+right-angle pipe fitting, and disappeared into the tunnel floor!
+
+"So that's how the water comes out of the hillside!" Rick exclaimed.
+"The well was originally driven straight down, as a well should be, and
+the horizontal pipe was added later. It misses the lower tunnel by about
+six feet."
+
+"That's not the only interesting thing about this end of the tunnel,"
+Scotty added. "This whole end is artificial, including part of the roof
+over the well. Take a look. It's mortarless stonework. No wonder the
+face was so seamed on the outside. Whoever did this was a terrific
+mason, because he selected rocks--probably from the mine itself--that
+duplicated the contour of the hill. But why go to all the trouble?
+That's what puzzles me."
+
+"Maybe this is the reason," Rick said. He pointed to rusty iron
+projecting from the wall. The iron supported a block of stone, by means
+of an iron pin that ran from the bottom of the stone through a hole in
+the iron piece projecting from the wall. At the top of the stone was a
+similar arrangement. It was an elementary but effective hinge, long ago
+rusted to disuse.
+
+Rick studied the wall, and directly in front of the projector lens he
+found another of the same arrangements, but with a difference. This one
+was modern, and it had been painted to prevent rusting. There were
+traces of graphite or graphite grease where the pins went through the
+iron supports.
+
+Clearly, the block of stone supported by the iron pins formed a
+porthole, the pins allowing the stone to be swung inward. The old,
+rusted one had been unused for decades, but the port in front of the
+projector had been repaired and lubricated. The comparison between the
+two gave Rick his clue.
+
+"This is a sniper nest built by the Confederates," he guessed. "Probably
+to protect the mine. The upper mine tunnel opened out here, too, and
+then war came and the people sealed the upper one to give protection to
+the troops working the lower level. That means the upper level was dug
+out first."
+
+"It's speculation, but it sounds good," Scotty agreed. "These are gun
+ports, very likely. I don't know what other purpose they could have
+served."
+
+Later they learned from Dr. Miller that the ports had also served as
+ventilation for slaves using the mine to hide on their way North to
+freedom, but that was after the North had the area partly in its grip.
+They also found that from these same ports the Lansdale brothers had
+fired the shots that killed Captain Seth Costin, for the legend was
+almost entirely true.
+
+"We open this port in front of the machine and we'll be only inches
+above the pool," Rick said. "Look at the location of the pipe. So, to
+produce the ghost, the Frostola man slid open the port, dropped a piece
+of dry ice...."
+
+"All properly sized to give the right amount of mist for the right
+time," Scotty added.
+
+"... and turned on the machine. With only the small port for the sound
+to go through, it wouldn't be audible to anyone in the picnic grounds."
+
+Scotty agreed. "And since the projector is so close to the mist we
+wouldn't see a beam. That lens must have a mighty wide angle, by the
+way. What's more, the projector must be slid closer to the opening when
+in use."
+
+"True. You know, in a way we were unlucky. If we had chanced to climb a
+tree when the ghost was actually appearing, we would have seen the
+projection lens through the mist as a bright spot of light, and that
+would have given the show away before this. But because of the angle,
+only someone in a tree could see it."
+
+Rick shook his head in admiration. "Rear-screen projection with a
+wide-angle lens. That's really using movie technique for all it's
+worth."
+
+"Rear-screen projection?" Scotty queried.
+
+"Sure. Movies and TV use it all the time. When the hero is supposed to
+be watching dinosaurs fighting it out, he's actually standing in front
+of a big screen of special plastic or ground glass, with the picture
+projected on it from behind. The mist acted as the screen, so we saw the
+image but not the projector beam. That's rear-screen projection."
+
+"I know how it works," Scotty said. "You can tell in a movie when they
+use it, because the definition of the background isn't as sharp as real
+photography, but I didn't know the name of the process."
+
+Scotty turned and studied the location of the port. "He must place the
+projector right on the tunnel floor, tilted upward to shine through the
+port. That's why the ghost was so tall. It hit the mist at an angle."
+
+Rick bent over the port. "Not hard to smack us in the eyes with methyl
+chloride from here, either. There we were, on our knees, faces in good
+range. And I'll bet he chuckled while he was doing it. Simple weapon,
+too. A water pistol. Or any plastic squirt bottle."
+
+He tugged on the port and it failed to move. Something wrong here. He
+studied it carefully and saw the reason. It had to be slid sideways for
+a quarter of an inch, a safety-lock feature. No wonder their examination
+of the rock face outside had shown nothing.
+
+"Open it," Scotty said. "Let's look."
+
+Rick did so, and instantly closed it partly shut again. "Get down here
+and look," he commanded. He had seen at once what had happened during
+their absence and his quick mind had caused him to react.
+
+There were men outside, several of them, and they were watching a small
+power scoop move into position in front of the lower mine entrance.
+Among them were Dr. Miller and Belsely. Away from the group, sitting on
+his tricycle scooter, was the Frostola man!
+
+"We forgot about Belsely," Rick said softly. "He saw us, and may even
+have seen us go into the mine. Anyway, that's the first place he'd look
+when we turned up missing."
+
+Scotty drew back and closed the port gently. "That power scoop can go
+right into the tunnel, scoop up a yard of rock and back out and dump it.
+It will have the tunnel cleared in no time. We'd better get out there
+and let them know we're safe."
+
+"If they were breaking their backs with hard manual labor to get us out
+I'd yell through the port," Rick said gleefully. "But they aren't. So
+we'll let the scoop operate. It will remove that stuff in an hour. And
+when they open up, they'll find us."
+
+Scotty looked at him suspiciously. "The tone of voice tells me you're
+whomping up something that will make someone unhappy. What is it?"
+
+"Well, if we rush out and tell the world about this, everyone will know
+the ghost is a fake. But that won't help us much, because we'll still
+need to know the answer to the biggest question of all. Why do this? So
+we go back, use the time covering up the break between the tunnels so no
+one will suspect we know, and let ourselves be rescued. The ghost
+continues to operate, and so do we! Then, when we have the answer, I
+have a great idea for unmasking the ghost."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Scotty saw the reasoning at once. "Besides," he added, "if the Frostola
+man doesn't see us come out, he'll know the jig is up right now. So
+let's go."
+
+They checked carefully to be sure no trace of their presence remained,
+then hurried back to the lower tunnel. Working carefully, they fitted
+rocks into the opening until a casual survey by flashlight would not
+reveal that the block between the tunnels had been removed. Then they
+spent the remaining time clearing more rocks from the original rockfall
+that had sealed them in.
+
+When the power scoop finally broke through, the glare of headlights,
+turned on when darkness fell, revealed two dirty, disheveled, exhausted
+young men who were too fatigued for anything but a quick bath, a meal,
+and bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+The Final Fact
+
+
+Rick and Scotty slept late the following morning and were awakened for
+brunch by Dr. Miller. The boys took advantage of the few moments alone
+with the scientist to give him the complete story of their adventure in
+the tunnel, after which they pledged him to secrecy.
+
+"It's one thing to tell people a ghost is a fake," Rick explained. "It's
+another to dramatize it. I'm working on an idea that may do it, but only
+if we keep quiet and make our plans carefully."
+
+"I'll keep the secret," the scientist assured him. "And I won't even
+scold you for going into an obviously unsafe mine because I hope the
+hours before you found your way out were lesson enough. By the way,
+Belsely wants to talk with you. Call him when you've eaten."
+
+"Yes, sir. And thank you."
+
+During their combination lunch and breakfast, the boys had to put up
+with comments from Jan and Barby. Dr. Miller had refrained from scolding
+them for foolhardiness, but the girls were not so reticent. The boys
+bore it stoically, but Rick resolved not to divulge their secret to
+Barby at any cost. Let her get a shock with the rest of the ghost
+fanciers.
+
+Belsely was out when they phoned, but he called back a short time later.
+"Meet me at the edge of the orchard," he requested. "Got to talk with
+you."
+
+The boys excused themselves and went to keep the rendezvous.
+
+"Didn't get a chance to talk with you last night," the farmer said.
+"Didn't you wonder a little at how fast rescue got to you?"
+
+"We did at first," Rick explained. "Then we realized you had seen us. We
+waved at you and you waved back. So we guessed the mine was the first
+place you'd look."
+
+"True, true. But that's only part of the story. I saw you go in the
+mine, you see. Then I went back to fence makin'. Pretty soon I heard the
+put-put of that scooter and along came the ice-cream man. He parked the
+scooter and sort of sniffed around here and there, and then he walked
+over and went into the mine. I did some sneakin' myself, to where I
+could see what he was doin'. He was looking at footprints, like he was
+an injun trackin' the hero on a Western TV show."
+
+"Those must have been his tracks we saw on the way in," Scotty
+interjected. "Big feet, which he has, and a reason for wanting to know
+how far into the mine we'd gone the first time add up to Mr. Frostola."
+
+"I suppose. Well, he went in a ways and stayed a bit, then he came out
+and went back to his scooter and just sat on it. Pretty soon there was a
+rumble, and a cloud of dust came pourin' out of the mine. I knew right
+away you was trapped in there. Had to be, from the noise. Don't know how
+he did it, though. There was no explosion."
+
+Rick explained about the rotted timbers. "He could have done a little
+pushing, or even cutting into the rotten wood with a knife. That would
+have done it. Maybe he pushed until the beams started to crack and then
+hurried out, only it took a few minutes for the beam to let go all the
+way."
+
+"That could have been it. Well, I wandered over and asked what the dust
+was, and he said cool as you please that he didn't know. Probably a
+cave-in inside somewhere. Well, I put on an act about you two poor lads
+goin' in and he pretended to get excited, too. We went in, and I tell
+you it looked bad."
+
+"Looked bad from our side, too," Rick said.
+
+"I believe it. It was a job for machinery, all right. I hurried to the
+house and told Dr. Miller, and we phoned town, but the man with the
+scoop was out on a job. The Frostola man was still hangin' around when I
+started for town, and he hadn't moved when I got back. I did nothin'
+about him because I wanted to talk to you first. Took some time for the
+scoop to get there, but it certainly did the job."
+
+"And we're mighty grateful," Rick told the farmer. Scotty echoed him.
+
+"By the way, Mr. Belsely, was anything ever said about a second tunnel
+in the mine?" Rick asked.
+
+The farmer considered. "Seems to me there was some mention about such a
+second tunnel, back when I was a boy, but I never heard about it since.
+I was born and brought up in this town, and I've never seen a sign of
+one. Course that doesn't mean there never was, because it might have
+fallen in."
+
+Rick made a quick decision. "It didn't," he stated. He went on to tell
+Belsely what had happened the day before, pledging him to quiet for a
+few days at least to give them a chance to solve the puzzle that
+remained.
+
+The farmer was delighted. "This will give me a tale to tell from now on!
+Once you say I'm free to talk, that is. Well, whaddaya know! That spring
+pipe has been there since Hector was a pup, and no one ever wondered
+about why it went in the hill sideways until you came along! Of course
+Collins must have known--him and Hilleboe, because they were the ones
+who replaced the pipe a few years back."
+
+Rick remembered that Dr. Miller had spoken of the pipe being replaced.
+If Collins and Hilleboe had put in the new pipe, they may have driven it
+into the hill as Dr. Miller had said, but they had most certainly
+connected it with the vertical pipe inside the tunnel.
+
+"Likely," Belsely agreed. "One more thing. We got a daylight ghost
+today. Saw him arrive by car about half an hour ago. He went up to the
+cornfield with a suitcase of some kind. Thought you'd like to know."
+
+They were delighted to know! The chance to see someone operating by
+daylight was too good to miss. They said a quick farewell to Belsely and
+hurried off across the field.
+
+There was no one in sight as they crossed the picnic grounds, but when
+they climbed to the top of the hill and stood on the edge of the
+cornfield, they could see a man in khaki clothes bending over something
+between the rows of corn plants.
+
+"Just what the ghosts were doing," Rick exclaimed. "Let's hurry and find
+out what he's up to!"
+
+They walked swiftly down the rows of corn, making no attempt at
+concealment. This was a frontal attack. The stranger saw them coming and
+stood up.
+
+Rick looked him over. The man was about forty, tanned and clean-shaven,
+with horn-rimmed glasses. Not at all a ghostly type.
+
+The boys walked right up to the man and gave him a cordial hello, which
+the stranger returned.
+
+"We couldn't help being curious," Rick said. "Do you mind if we watch?"
+
+"Not at all." He indicated the open suitcase at his feet. It contained a
+built-in instrument with a meter and earphones. There was also a tubular
+attachment on the end of a thick wire.
+
+Rick recognized it at once and a thrill shot through him. The stranger
+was somehow connected with the mystery.
+
+"Isn't that a Geiger tube?" he asked.
+
+The stranger answered casually, "That's what it is. This is called a
+survey meter. Most people know it as a Geiger counter. It's very
+sensitive."
+
+Rick knew better, but he wanted to probe for more information. "Are you
+in Civil Defense by any chance?" he asked.
+
+"Nope. I'm a geologist. My outfit is making a routine survey of the area
+for radioactive ores. We don't expect to find any, but there was a
+discovery in Maryland recently and we don't want to overlook any bets."
+
+Rick was sure now that no bets were being overlooked. Any geologist
+would eliminate the area simply on the basis of its rock formations with
+no need of making a field survey.
+
+He operated largely by instinct when there was a need, and this was
+clearly the right occasion. The man looked clean cut and respectable,
+and the daylight operation separated him from the nightly prowlers.
+
+"You might find some Janigite around here," Rick said casually, and
+watched sharply for the reaction.
+
+"Possibly. Saw an interesting sample of it yesterday." The stranger was
+offhand in his reply, but his eyes twinkled behind the glasses.
+
+"So did we. It was wrapped in a cement bag."
+
+The response was quick. The stranger held out his hand. "I'm Roger
+Bennett from the Atomic Energy Commission. You're the boys who notified
+JANIG about the cement bags."
+
+Rick and Scotty identified themselves, and Bennett nodded. "I know John
+Gordon of the Spindrift staff. We worked together on a test project a
+few years ago. Now, what's the story?"
+
+The boys told him what they knew, ending with yesterday's discovery.
+
+The AEC man nodded. "This field is 'hot,' did you know that? It's
+obvious that powdered carnotite was spread here before the corn was
+planted. And from your story, it was spread in the field across the
+creek, too."
+
+Ghosts with a cart had marched up and down the fields, hunting for the
+ghostly dead ... the image flashed through Rick's mind and he exclaimed,
+"The cart! That was why the ghosts needed the cart! They were lugging
+bags of powdered carnotite and spreading it around the fields when
+Belsely saw them!"
+
+"You've hit it," Scotty agreed.
+
+Rick explained to Bennett about the ghosts and the cart, and then added
+Belsely's reports on the times when two or three ghosts had walked the
+fields without a cart. "Scotty and I saw three of them once, and it's a
+cinch they were using a survey meter to check the ground for
+radioactivity. But why? That's what has us going around in ghastly,
+ghostly circles. Why spread carnotite and then come back to measure it?"
+
+Bennett smiled. "I think I know, but I'd like to see this mine of yours.
+Can it be arranged?"
+
+Scotty said swiftly, "I'd better act as a lookout to intercept the
+Frostola man if he comes. I'll delay him while you two go into the
+mine." He was gone at a ground-eating pace.
+
+Rick led the AEC man to the hidden mine entrance. "I don't have a
+flashlight with me."
+
+"No need. What we want will be right at the entrance, I'm sure."
+
+They crawled in on hands and knees, the AEC man pushing his bag before
+him. Inside, he looked around and selected several small pieces of rock.
+
+"We'll check the samples, but it's just a formality. I recognize this
+stuff. It's carnotite. You can see the yellow streaks clearly. That's
+the uranium color. Of course the rock is mostly gray, so that's the
+color of the powdered ore."
+
+"Then the mine really contains radioactive ore?" Rick asked eagerly.
+
+"Only what was put here, I'm afraid."
+
+With this cryptic comment Bennett opened his case and checked the
+samples. Rick watched the meter climb. They were radioactive, all right,
+but of low ore level, not at all dangerous.
+
+"We'd better get out of here," Bennett said. "I'd rather not be
+discovered at this point. When your friend Scott comes back I'll tell
+you what has happened."
+
+Scotty rejoined them as they reached the cornfield again. They walked
+with Bennett to his car, and listened to an explanation that made
+everything clear.
+
+"This is a game as old as mining," Bennett told them. "It has happened
+before, and it will happen again. Uranium is the treasure metal now,
+where gold used to be. So the game uses uranium. The game is known as
+salting."
+
+"Salting?" Scotty asked. "I've heard it in connection with gold mines,
+but I can't remember exactly what it means."
+
+"It means putting evidence of high-grade ore in a likely place, but one
+which actually contains no real pay dirt. For instance, in country where
+gold may be found, the technique for salting used to be firing gold
+nuggets into the ground with a shotgun, by replacing the buckshot with
+the nuggets. Then, when the victim was allowed to try panning gold for
+himself, he'd come up with the nuggets and think he was getting natural
+gold."
+
+"And in this case, powdered carnotite was used in the fields, and chunks
+were put in the mine, to make victims think uranium was present," Rick
+added. He could see the picture pretty clearly now. "The carnotite was
+put in and then the field was planted with corn to make it look as
+innocent and natural as possible, I suppose."
+
+"That's how I figure it. There's no uranium around here, except for the
+very small percentage that one can often find associated with some
+varieties of lead. We'll find that someone has been pulling a very cute
+confidence game, bringing clients here by night, showing them the
+radioactivity--by letting them hear the clicks in the earphone of a
+counter, probably--and then selling them either shares in a mine or
+pieces of property."
+
+"And using the ghost to scare the townspeople away so there would be no
+interference," Rick finished. "But how can we prove all this?"
+
+"You won't have to. I brought a man with me, and dropped him off in
+town. His name is Joe Taylor, and he's an FBI agent."
+
+"The FBI?" Scotty looked puzzled. "But bunco games or con games,
+whatever you call them, aren't a federal offense! How does the FBI get
+in on it?"
+
+"Because the carnotite was federal property. It was stolen from a
+loading platform at our Grand Junction facility. We know this, because
+there is no record of any transaction, and we can identify the source by
+the chemical composition of the sample."
+
+"But how could anyone steal stuff from AEC?" Rick asked.
+
+"Easily, in this case. There is no purpose in protecting ore with the
+same security we give the processed stages, like green salt, for
+example. No one could possibly steal enough ore to do any good, because
+it takes many tons to produce even a gram of uranium. Ore moves by
+carloads, on normal railroad or truck bills of lading, from private
+companies who mine it. No security is required, you see, because no one
+has the capability of getting out the metal even if they could steal
+thousands of tons of ore."
+
+Rick understood this. He had seen the plant at Oak Ridge where uranium
+was extracted by the gas diffusion method. The plant covered acres. Only
+a government could afford such a facility.
+
+"But couldn't the carnotite have been stolen from a privately owned
+mine?" he asked.
+
+"Possibly, but we will assume it was in our hands when it was taken.
+This is because we want to discourage this kind of thing, and the FBI
+taking action is very discouraging to thieves."
+
+The boys appreciated this viewpoint. "I hope the FBI doesn't interfere
+with Rick's plan for exposing the ghost," Scotty said.
+
+"I don't think you'll find Taylor hard to persuade. I'll suggest he stop
+by and hear your story. It will help him. Then you can outline your own
+plans."
+
+"We'll be waiting," Rick assured the AEC expert. "Before you go, what's
+your idea about the changing number of ghosts? Was that when the clients
+were brought to see the Geiger counter work?"
+
+"That would be my guess," Bennett agreed. "You'll probably find that the
+ghost took them on a conducted survey of the mine and the fields to show
+them what valuable property he was offering for sale--or for shares in a
+mine."
+
+Scotty objected, "But the ghost wore the luminous blue head. Any clients
+would think that was mighty peculiar, to put it mildly, unless they knew
+they were being parties to something illegal."
+
+Bennett chuckled. "It's one of the key factors in a really big con game
+to make the client think he is getting something for nothing, or maybe
+even a shade outside the law. Confidence men say that everyone has a
+'little larceny in his soul.' I'm sure that's not true, but enough
+people do so that they can be swindled by an illegal offer."
+
+Rick snapped his fingers. "Dr. Miller's property, and the fact that
+Hilleboe owned only part of the mine! That's the reason for the ghosts
+that walked by night. It has to be! The swindlers would tell their
+clients only part of the land was available and they needed funds to buy
+the rest of it--but the inspection had to be held by night to keep the
+owner from suspecting he had a uranium mine on his property."
+
+Bennett asked, "Was Dr. Miller actually approached with an offer to
+buy?"
+
+"Yes," Scotty replied. "It was a good offer, too. That must mean the
+swindlers were doing a good business and needed more land to sell."
+
+"Not necessarily. They probably wanted the Miller property more as a
+safety factor than anything else, in case someone got wind of what was
+going on and tried to horn in. They probably didn't actually sell land,
+only speculative shares in a mine to be developed. That's the usual
+technique. The secrecy and mystery, and having a phony ghost for a
+guide, were just added elements of drama to help with the selling. The
+clients thought they were in on a great big secret."
+
+Rick grinned. "They were. We've just managed to untangle it, with your
+help."
+
+"Delighted," Bennett said. "But you'll find Taylor much more of an
+expert than I. See you later, boys, I'm sure."
+
+They watched as the AEC man drove off. "I'm pretty sure we have the
+answers," Rick said happily. "Hilleboe probably is the boss, since he
+owns the property, but Collins is in on it to some extent because he
+knew about the upper mine tunnel, and acted as agent for Hilleboe. And
+our pal the Frostola man is in it up to his hip pockets."
+
+"He's the ghost," Scotty agreed. "Both in the tunnel when the machine is
+run, and at night when the ghost walks. At least he is part of the time.
+Of course there's no reason why someone else couldn't be the ghost, too,
+maybe two or three different people."
+
+"Someone else was the ghost the first night," Rick remembered, "because
+the Frostola man was watching."
+
+"Good thing we don't have to prove any of this," Scotty concluded. "The
+FBI is on the job. They'll get the proof."
+
+"But we're the ones who'll bury the ghost for good," Rick promised.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+Death of a Ghost
+
+
+Dr. Miller planned a large cook-out and picnic party in the mine area,
+and he issued invitations to people from the town of Lansdale, to the
+staff of Spindrift Island's scientific foundation, to Mr. Bennett of the
+AEC, and to a number of folks who preferred for reasons of their own to
+remain anonymous for the time being.
+
+The reason, Dr. Miller said, was to get all his friends together for one
+big shindig before he and his family returned to Spindrift Island where
+a new project was waiting.
+
+Even Jan and Barby knew no other reason than this.
+
+Meanwhile, the boys were busy preparing to "bury the ghost for good."
+What made the plan difficult was that it had to be done publicly, and in
+such a way that it wouldn't interfere with police activities.
+
+The boys met with Taylor, the FBI agent. He was a good-natured young man
+who might have been a lawyer, but under the attractive grin and ready
+chuckle, Rick could sense that Taylor could be a very tough man indeed
+if need be. The agent listened to their plans and laughed outright.
+
+"I like it," he said. "We must do this, if only for the effect on the
+Frostola man when he sees what has happened. It's turning the tables on
+that joker, and he deserves it."
+
+Rick sensed more than met the ear in that statement. "You know something
+about him?" he asked.
+
+"Quite a bit. He's not exactly Public Enemy Number One, or even Number
+Fifty, but he's well known to the police of most large cities. He
+specializes in confidence games with a technical angle. He's quite
+original. You can bet he dreamed this whole thing up and planned it down
+to the last detail, then sold the others on it. I don't know how he met
+Hilleboe, but we'll find out. Of course he met Collins through
+Hilleboe."
+
+"Does the Frostola company know he exists?"
+
+"Sure. He wouldn't slip on a detail like that. He got the job without
+difficulty, since the route was vacant. If it hadn't been vacant, he'd
+have worked out some other kind of cover."
+
+Rick made a telephone call to a friend in New York, and as a consequence
+had to fly to Washington National Airport in two days to pick up a small
+package.
+
+Mr. Belsely let it be known around town that Dr. Miller didn't really
+want to hold the party at the mine area because of the ghost, but had no
+other place large enough--and he had to give the party for professional
+reasons; his scientific friends had long wanted to see his Virginia
+home. The farmer made sure the Frostola man heard the story.
+
+There was only one final step necessary on the day of the big event.
+With Belsely watching one road and Scotty watching the other, Rick went
+into the upper mine tunnel for the last time. He had with him equipment
+and a specially made item that was essential to his plans. He worked
+swiftly, sure that the Frostola man wouldn't notice the slight change,
+which involved only a foot of film on the continuous strip.
+
+He finished and called Belsely and Scotty off their posts. Now all was
+in readiness.
+
+There were gallons of potato salad and coleslaw, mountains of rolls,
+barrels of punch, and enough hot dogs to feed a small army. Wood was
+piled for the fires, paper plates were stacked high. All was in
+readiness.
+
+Rick flew again to Washington and made connections with the plane that
+brought his parents and Julius Weiss, the little mathematician. The
+other Spindrifters were out of town, so couldn't come.
+
+It was a gala occasion, enjoyed by everyone. Rick ate half a dozen hot
+dogs himself, while Scotty maintained his reputation as a good
+trencherman with two on top of that. They consumed salad until the
+bursting point was near, and so was darkness.
+
+Then Rick wandered casually over to a parked car where one man, replete
+with picnic chow, was listening to his radio.
+
+It wasn't a broadcast receiver, however. The man was a lieutenant of the
+Virginia State Police. His car was radio equipped, although not
+identified as a police car. It kept him in touch with his men.
+
+"Your boy went into the mine a few minutes ago," he reported.
+
+Rick breathed a sigh of relief. Now, if the ghost producer didn't
+examine things too closely ... but he wouldn't. Everything looked
+normal, and the extra film wasn't prominent.
+
+It was almost nine o'clock.
+
+Rick found Scotty. "Let's get grandstand seats."
+
+"Okay."
+
+Barby, Jan, and the Millers had a table directly under the tree in which
+the boys had waited in vain for the Blue Ghost, and had hidden from the
+night prowlers. This was no accident. Rick's mother and father were with
+the group. Weiss was off at another table with Bennett of the AEC, deep
+in a discussion of some obscure point of nuclear physics.
+
+A car drove up and Rick waited to see who emerged. One person who was
+missing had arrived just in time. Rick walked over and told the FBI
+agent to get a good location from which to watch the show.
+
+"Just got in from Washington," Taylor said. "We picked up Hilleboe and
+three associates. They talked freely when they saw we had 'em cold. Been
+actually selling pieces of the land, through Collins, at fantastic
+prices. We'll pick up Collins on the way back tonight."
+
+Rick saw him to a good location and rejoined Scotty. They hurriedly told
+the folks at the table that they wanted grandstand seats and went up
+into the tree. Besides having a good seat, Rick also wanted to see if he
+was correct about being able to see the bright projector lens from the
+tree.
+
+Now that they knew what to look for, it was absurdly simple. They
+couldn't see the port open, but they saw the white flash of dry ice as
+it dropped from the port into the pool.
+
+The mist rose.
+
+The party group was silent now. Only a very few knew what the outcome
+would be; most knew only that the Blue Ghost was about to appear.
+
+The mist thickened, expanded.
+
+The Blue Ghost materialized. He held out his hands to an invisible loved
+one. He looked appealing.
+
+He recoiled, then put hands to his chest. They came away bloody. He
+stretched them out ...
+
+And then a new sequence materialized in the mist, a sequence of words in
+stark red against the icy white of the background.
+
+    BE PREPARED!
+        BUY
+    BLUE GHOST
+ HEALTH INSURANCE
+
+For a long breath there was shocked silence, then the crowd below
+dissolved into laughter.
+
+"Let's go," Rick shouted.
+
+He would have given much to see Barby's expression, but time was running
+out and he and Scotty had ground to cover. They dropped from the tree,
+scrambled up the hill past where the white mist was fading, and dashed
+across the cornfield.
+
+"Hurry!" Scotty exclaimed.
+
+"I'm hurrying," Rick assured him, but made his legs go faster.
+
+They went across the hilltop with great strides, broke into the open
+beyond the cornfield, dodged thorns, and panted to a stop just above the
+opening of the second tunnel.
+
+The fast sprint had gotten them there in time.
+
+The Frostola man spurted from the tunnel as though a real ghost was
+after him.
+
+Four state troopers grabbed him so fast that his legs continued to make
+running motions even after his feet were lifted off the ground.
+
+Rick caught a glimpse of blue light from the corner of his eye and
+whirled to see the Blue Ghost approaching! For a moment he thought a
+real ghost had somehow appeared to be in on the capture of the phony
+one, then at close range he saw that the ghostly head was nothing more
+than a transparent plastic head of the kind used to display men's hats.
+
+The apparition walked up to the speechless Frostola man and said calmly,
+"Boo!"
+
+Taylor, the FBI agent, removed the apparatus from his head; Rick
+recognized him in the blue glow. "We found your other head underneath
+the ice cream in your scooter," he said conversationally. "In the false
+bottom. We also found your Geiger counter. Any comments?"
+
+The Frostola man had recovered somewhat from the shock of his capture.
+
+"What can I say?" he demanded. "When I saw that wordage on the mist, I
+knew someone was onto the act. I only delayed long enough to read
+it--backward--from where I was. Then I got out and ran into troopers.
+All right. You found the secret of the ghost, and that I have a Geiger
+counter. So what? Practical jokes aren't illegal, and anyone can own a
+survey meter."
+
+"But selling shares in a nonexistent mine with intent to defraud is
+quite a different matter," the agent said. "We've been collecting
+evidence for a few days, including some from clients of yours who were
+interested in knowing the field had been salted. And we've picked up
+Collins and Hilleboe."
+
+The Frostola man sighed. "Well, it was good while it lasted. I suspected
+things were getting risky when those two kids charged into the mist, but
+I hoped maybe the cold spray had cooled them down a little. When it
+didn't, I tried to scare them off by trapping them in the mine. No
+intent to harm, either. I knew they'd be dug out in short order."
+
+"We were," Rick agreed. "Only while the rescuers were digging in, we
+were busy finding the upper tunnel. After that, it was easy."
+
+"I saw the rescue," the Frostola man said. "You came out the same way
+you went in. That fooled me completely; I just figured you hadn't gone
+beyond the pile of rocks between the tunnels."
+
+A trooper sergeant pointed to the police car waiting on the dirt road.
+"Come on. We'll take a ride to town and get you booked. Don't worry
+about your scooter. It will be taken care of."
+
+"Eat all the ice cream you want," the Frostola man said grandly. "Be my
+guests. I won't be needing it."
+
+"Not for some years," Taylor agreed. "Come on, lads. Let's get back to
+the picnic."
+
+"We're with you," Rick said. "Lead the way." He chuckled suddenly. "It
+was a pretty good effect, wasn't it? The lab did a good job, and the
+Frostola man didn't see that a new chunk had been spliced in."
+
+"A very good effect," Scotty agreed. "Only stand by for misery and woe.
+Barby and Jan won't like this! After all, we destroyed a historic
+romance."
+
+The picnic crowd was eating again when the boys returned. They located
+the family and Rick strained to see the girls' faces, but it was too
+dark.
+
+Barby's voice said sternly, "Is that you, Rick Brant?"
+
+He admitted it, rather meekly. "Uh-uh."
+
+"Rick Brant! You knew all the time ... I mean, while Jan and I were ..."
+
+Barby's voice was trembling. He thought she was in tears. He hoped not;
+she shouldn't take legends so seriously ...
+
+Agent Taylor joined the group and chuckled. "You should have seen that
+Frostola man come out of the tunnel! I guess that final commercial
+shocked him silly."
+
+"He wasn't the only one," Barby said swiftly, and to Rick's amazement
+she and Jan Miller burst into peals of laughter.
+
+This wasn't the reaction Rick had expected. "But the romance," he said
+doubtfully. "I mean, you should be brokenhearted ..."
+
+"I'll never understand girls," Scotty said darkly.
+
+"It was like sitting through the same movie too many times," Barby
+explained.
+
+Jan added, "Really, we were getting a little bored with the same act. If
+the ghost had only changed his routine a little ..."
+
+There was real pride in Barby's voice as she declared, "And how do you
+get rid of a boring ghost? You get my brother Rick to turn him into a
+commercial. Rick Brant's Sponsored Spooks!"
+
+Rick was so relieved at Barby's reaction that he let her have the last
+word. Besides, there were new events to think about, for Hartson Brant
+had brought word of a new project the Spindrift Foundation had agreed to
+undertake, one that would shake the very earth to its depths, and one in
+which Rick Brant and Scotty would play a major part.
+
+
+
+
+_The_ RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE _Stories_
+
+BY JOHN BLAINE
+
+THE ROCKET'S SHADOW
+
+THE LOST CITY
+
+SEA GOLD
+
+100 FATHOMS UNDER
+
+THE WHISPERING BOX MYSTERY
+
+THE PHANTOM SHARK
+
+SMUGGLERS' REEF
+
+THE CAVES OF FEAR
+
+STAIRWAY TO DANGER
+
+THE GOLDEN SKULL
+
+THE WAILING OCTOPUS
+
+THE ELECTRONIC MIND READER
+
+THE SCARLET LAKE MYSTERY
+
+THE PIRATES OF SHAN
+
+THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Blue Ghost Mystery, by Harold Leland Goodwin
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY ***
+
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