The Blue Ghost Mystery: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure 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!BUYBLUE GHOSTHEALTH 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.