CHAPTER V
Night Alarm
Rick lathered a hot dog with mustard and took a satisfying bite. It wasa down-to-earth hot dog with no mystery, no eerieness about it, forwhich he was grateful. He hadn't admitted it, but the incident in themine had shaken him.
Dr. Miller passed the milk pitcher to Rick, then asked, "Are you certainyou heard laughter? It wasn't a trick of the wind?"
"I'm sure it was laughter," Barby said solemnly. "Captain Costin waslaughing at mortals who dared to enter his tomb."
Rick glanced at his sister, hoping she was joking. She wasn't. "I'm notcertain," he admitted. "It all happened at once. I mean, the torch wentout, there was a sort of sudden breeze, and we got out of there into thedaylight."
He had a mental image of he and Scotty executing that ancient andhonorable maneuver known as getting out of there! They had reached themine entrance in a dead heat, probably breaking several world's recordsfor foot racing.
"We didn't stop to listen," he added with some embarrassment. "We justgot."
"Well, I should think so!" Jan Miller said vehemently. "It's a wonderyour hair didn't turn white."
Scotty raised a hand and ruffled his dark crewcut. "Didn't it?" he askedruefully. "I took it for granted that it had."
Dr. Miller chuckled. "Put on a few more hot dogs," he called to hiswife. "These boys need nourishment. They've been through an ordeal." ToRick and Scotty he said seriously, "You needn't be embarrassed. The fearof the unknown, combined with the fears we have of closed places, almostcomplete darkness, and our own physiological reactions to the unexpectedmake us do our thinking with our legs instead of our heads in somesituations."
It was neatly put. Rick acknowledged the scientist's statement. "Itisn'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. Millerreplied. "After all, the dust showed no sign of human occupancy, yousaid."
"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, inwhich case we call in the Society for Psychic Phenomena, or that theghost is a man-made thing, in which case we search for the man."
"I'm still not buying assumption number one," Rick stated flatly. "Myhair may be white, or close to it, and I'm ready to admit that theapparition is a mighty convincing spook, but I don't really _feel_ it'sa ghost."
Jan Miller spoke up. "Rick's hunches are pretty good. If he doesn'tbelieve in the ghost, it isn't just because he's a doubting Thomas. Ithink the boys should go ahead with their investigation on theassumption that the ghost is caused by someone."
Barby shook her head, more in sorrow than in anger. "I thought you hadmore faith than that, Jan."
"It isn't a question of faith," Jan explained. "It's a question of whereyou start. If we start by accepting the ghost as real, there's nothingwe 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 whereScotty left off, if we assume the ghost is man-caused, we have to assumeit isn't a practical joke, or that it is. What's the vote?"
"No evidence," Dr. Miller said thoughtfully. "It could be a practicaljoke, although it's an elaborate sort of thing. More complicatedpractical jokes than this have been pulled by expert jokesters. On thewhole, however, I'm inclined to vote against the joke assumption on thegrounds that it has been going on too long. Jokesters are not noted fortheir staying power. By this time the secret would be out, or we'd behaving variations. The apparition wouldn't have fallen into a routine."
Dr. Miller had spotted exactly the thing that was troubling Rick. It wasroutine, but ghosts are traditionally far from routine. That wasactually the biggest argument for assuming that it was man-made, andthat it was not a practical joke.
He voiced his thoughts aloud, then asked, "If man-made, and not apractical 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," Scottycommented.
"True enough," Rick agreed. "But if we can't guess a motive, let's tryanother 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 hisrecent appearances?"
"About a month ago," Dr. Miller replied. "We first heard about it fromour tenant farmer when we arrived here from Spindrift. He was full ofthe 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 likeleaves 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 whenthere's no audience?"
Scotty chuckled. "That's like the question about does a falling treemake 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, likeone 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 Sonsof the Old Dominion have their annual steak and crab feast. This is theOld 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 palnodded.
Over a second hot dog, then a third, Rick continued his line ofquestioning. Not until he began to ask more about details of mineownership did one interesting fact come to light. Dr. Miller hadreceived an offer to buy his property at a price considerably above thegoing market rates just before the ghostly appearances started.
"The offer wasn't for all the property," Dr. Miller added. "Only for theportion along our eastern line. It includes the field where you landed,the picnic ground, and our part of the mine property. The house andorchard 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 oralfalfa. That's why I was rather puzzled."
"Who wanted the land?" Scotty asked.
"I don't know. The offer came through Jethro Collins, a localreal-estate man. He said he was acting as agent for out-of-towninterests that preferred to remain unknown for political reasons. Itsounded 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 mightwant the property, and I'm not anxious to have a glue works or somethingset up as a neighbor. Besides, I don't care for Collins. I'd rather notdo 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 anyuse. I'm sure that the mine would have been abandoned even before theCivil War if the South hadn't needed the lead so badly. Of course we'reonly part owners, anyway. My grandfather owned it jointly with theHilleboes, our next-door neighbors. They own the property beyond ours,and uphill from the mine. We've never worried over the ownership of themine itself, because it's worthless for any purpose."
Rick thought it was curious that an offer should be made for worthlessproperty just as the ghost put in an appearance. It required lookinginto. He wondered how to go about it, and decided perhaps a chat withthe real-estate agent might be useful. Dr. Miller readily gave hispermission to try.
To Rick's other question, Dr. Miller had no answer--that was the oddlocation of the pipe from which the spring water trickled. Th
e scientistcould make only one suggestion. "Perhaps the hole was drilledvertically, and a horizontal feed put on for convenience. Then, later,the area was covered over by tailings from the mine, leaving only thehorizontal pipe. After all, the pipe is not directly over the mineshaft. It is well to one side, perhaps six or eight feet."
That was a reasonable suggestion, and Rick let it drop for the timebeing. In fact, the boys let the entire subject drop for the rest of theafternoon, although Rick kept worrying the problem as was his way whenconfronted 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 thegirls, 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 bluecome up again, then Rick started his probing once more.
"The business about an offer for the property may not be connected, butit's a curious coincidence. Now, what else happened about the time thehaunting 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 talkwith him.
At eight o'clock, armed with flashlights, the boys departed for the oldmine. They approached the area with caution, on the alert for anypossible visitors. But the picnic ground was completely abandoned.
A quick inspection of the mine showed only their own footprints. Theboards had been left off the entrance during their earlier inspection,and apparently no one had been there since. Then, at Scotty'ssuggestion, they looked for a place of concealment from which to holdvigil.
Rick found it, high in an oak. It was an easy climb, and from the hugelimb they could look through a screen of foliage and see without beingseen. Both boys were satisfied that they were unobserved. No humans knewthey were in the vicinity.
The Virginia mosquitoes were not so easily deceived. Both boys werepromptly located by a scouting party, and mosquito communications wentinto fast operation. Within a few minutes the entire local mosquito airforce had invaded the tree. Rick waved his hands futilely at the whiningswarm and muttered unhappily, "There are so many they have to line upfor 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, alertfor any sign of the ghost. Their flashlights were ready to probe theapparition if it should appear.
Rick glanced occasionally at the luminous dial of his watch. Then, onthe stroke of nine, he whispered, "Now."
Nothing happened. The boys bore the mosquitoes stoically and waited. Notuntil his watch showed 9:15 did Rick speak aloud. "Let's get out ofhere. I doubt that the ghost will be any later than this. He's notperforming tonight."
They dropped to the ground and scratched luxuriously. Scotty shook hishead. "No audience, no ghost. Mighty interesting."
"I'm with you," Rick agreed. "Now, suppose the ghost had known we weregoing 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'llspread the word around town that we're going to be watching, and let'ssee what happens."
Scotty scooped up a pebble and tossed it into the creek as they crossedthe 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 beproduced. 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 theghost appears. How is it done?"
Rick didn't know. He didn't even have an idea. "The pool bubbled," heremembered. "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 theinviting lights of the Miller farmhouse. "And speaking of same, I needsome for these mosquito bites."
"Chemicals can produce a mist," Rick pointed out, "without leaving avisible trace. We didn't taste the water in the pool. I'm going to takea 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 theporch. "Not a sign of a spook. Only mosquitoes."
"I have something for those bites," Mrs. Miller replied quickly. "Themosquitoes are fierce this year. Come into the kitchen and we'll treatboth of you."
Between applications of the aromatic ointment the boys reported on theirexperience, or lack of it. Rick concluded, "So the ghost performs onlybefore an audience, and then only when notified in advance."
Dr. Miller smiled. "A pretty sweeping conclusion from a pretty smallsample, Rick. One experiment doesn't do more than give a single point onthe curve. You need more evidence than tonight's failure."
"We'll try again," Rick answered. He outlined the plan to let it beknown 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 goon to something more tangible. I have an interesting device made up ofalternate 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 onfor a game of chess."
Barby and Jan returned to their own project, creating monograms to beembroidered on their summer clothes, while Scotty and Mrs. Millersettled down with books.
Rick knew from the start that he was no match for Dr. Miller, but heresolved to give him as good a game as possible. An hour passed beforeit 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 bythe strident blasting of the plane's alarm system!
Rick and Scotty were on their feet and running on the instant. Rickreached the door first and threw it open, almost upsetting Belsely, thetenant 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!"
The Blue Ghost Mystery: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story Page 5