Part 5

But now his troubles began. The horse, wild with fright, avoided the blanket. It kicked at Jim and even snapped, tearing frantically on its halter. The heat was cracking Jim’s skin, the smoke choked him, and the crazy horse made his head ache trying to follow his rapid movements. Worse than that, the halter was tied in a ring on the wall, and the cavalryman was unable to pull it loose. As he was ready to sob with anger his fingers closed over the catch and with a jerk that tore his skin he loosed the rearing horse. Like a flash the animal backed from its stall and tried to find the door.

Now Jim succeeded in getting the blanket over his head and he felt his way to the door. The first breath of fresh air that he got went through him like the stab of a sword. Stumbling at every step he led the trembling horse to a tree far away from the barn and tied him securely. The smell of burning hair jabbed his nose and he knew that the animal had been burned in more than one place.

“I’ve got to go back,” he gasped, gulping the air in huge draughts. “But I can’t, I just can’t!”

But he started back, his feet like lead and his head ready to burst. Before he reached the door of the barn, however, a blackened figure with red hair stopped him.

“They’re all out,” Terry shouted. “And I’m all in!”

Together they sank down on the rude back steps of the farmhouse, entirely played out. While they sat there the bucket brigade was in full swing.

Those cadets who had been fortunate enough to secure buckets had jumped into action without wasting a moment’s time. The vanguard found the well and began to pump vigorously. As soon as the first pail was filled it was passed from hand to hand and the last cadet, running as close to the fire as the heat would allow him to, tossed it on the blaze. By the time he had finished a second cadet had run forward with another pail full. A second contingent of cadets, impatient at waiting around the well, found a small creek back of the barn and the buckets were dipped in here. Two steady streams were now being played in splashes on the blaze.

There was no hope of saving the barn but the work went grimly forward. A mountain of sparks was ascending, threatening the house and the smaller structures near by, to say nothing of the fields and woods. It required a special corps to put out scores of small fires that jumped up in the fields and on the other buildings. But in time the splashing buckets of water kept the sparks down and although the barn burned to the ground the house and smaller buildings were saved.

It seemed to the cadets that they had been working for hours on their task. Numerous neighbors had run over from near-by farms, armed with buckets and blankets, and their assistance was a welcome help. A wheezing old hand-pump on a flat truck was finally run into the yard and the water from the creek was thrown in a more or less uncertain stream on the smoldering embers of the ruins, but had the Hydes been compelled to wait for it and for the neighbors they would have been burned out of the house and home. Clouds of hissing steam rose from the blackened wood as the water was pumped and thrown on it.

Jim and Terry had braced up sufficiently to join the bucket brigade and they passed the pails with the others. Some of the cadets had stormed in the back door of Hyde’s house and had located a few pails and pans. As for the father and his two sons they had not been of much use after the horses had been taken. Utterly bewildered by the swift events they had run from place to place, too shaken to do anything practical.

“Were all of the animals taken out?” the colonel asked the farmer. He nodded dully.

“Wasn’t nothing but horses in that barn,” he returned. “The chickens is in the run there.”

The unfortunate chickens were scorched by the heat which had been so near to them but all of them were alive. They had run around the long inclosure squawking and screeching but the damage had not touched them. Some pigs near by were safe enough, and the only thing which had suffered was the barn itself and the horses, most of whom were burned in patches. Jim, who had recovered from his experience, dispatched a man to the camp to bring soothing salve for the animals’ burns. This was done and under Jim and Thompson’s watchful eyes the scorches were tenderly glossed over to heal.

A large group had gathered around the farmer and his sons and the cadets. One of the neighbors asked how the fire had started. Hyde shrugged his shoulders.

“I dunno,” he said. “All of a sudden I waked up to see the fire and we run out in a jiffy. I didn’t see how it got afire.”

The colonel turned to Don, who was close by. “How did you happen to see this fire, Lieutenant Mercer?” he asked.

Don narrated the story of the moving flame. The neighbors shot inquiring looks at the Hydes. A dozen tongues formed the word “Maul.”

“Maul is dead,” said one of the sons. “How could he do it?”

“Don’t forget the ghost of the Ridge,” said a man, seriously. “That’s Maul’s ghost.”

The oldest son had been prowling about the ruins and now set up a cry. “Look-a-here, Pop,” he called. There was an instant rush to the rear of the barn.

In the dim light of a few lanterns they made out the charred outline of wheels and under a smoking board some whisps of straw. A murmur of comprehension went up.

“Loaded a wagon of hay and lighted her up,” shouted a farmer. “Then they rolled it down the hill at the barn.”

There was no doubt that such had been the case. And no one seemed to ask why, a fact that puzzled the colonel and the boys.

“Why should anyone do a thing like that? And who is this Maul?” the colonel asked.

None of the Hydes replied but a neighbor was willing to talk. “A few years back there was a hill feud between the Hydes and the Mauls,” he said. “One or the other of them was trying to drive the other family out. But all of the Mauls disappeared or died several years ago. This here ghost must be one of the Mauls!”

“Evidently a very real Maul, if he can load a wagon with hay and roll it down the hill,” replied the colonel dryly. “Captain Jordan!”

“Sir?” the senior captain replied.

“Take a detail of men and search the hill. If you find anyone that looks suspicious bring him here to me.”

“Very well, sir,” replied Jordan, and picked a detail of five men. They departed up the slope at once.

“You won’t find any ghost hanging around now,” grinned a toothless old man.

The colonel paid no attention to the old man and they hung around for an hour longer. It was now three o’clock, but no one thought of quitting the scene. From snatches of conversation the cadets learned more about the bitter feud that had existed for generations between the Hydes and the Mauls. The last Maul had been drowned in a near-by river.

“At least he was swept down the river in a flood,” a neighbor said. “Nobody ever saw him since.”

“Well, these foolish feuds ought to stop,” growled the colonel. “A lot of innocent people suffer because of them.”

“We’ll attend to our own affairs,” the father said, sullenly. “We don’t need any interfering.”

“If it hadn’t been for our interfering tonight you would have been without a dozen horses and your house, my friend,” returned the colonel, calmly. The Hydes muttered to themselves.

Jordan and the detail returned soon afterward to report that there was no sign of anyone on the hill. “But we found the tracks and a lot of hay up on top of the hill.”

There was now nothing to keep them there any longer and they went back to camp, tired but satisfied. There was no word of thanks from the farmer or his sons.

“Nice, grateful bunch,” grumbled Don, inspecting sore hands and a red burn on his arm.

Jim ached all over but he managed to grin. “Sure, but we should worry. We got the horses out, and that is what counted.”

10 Emergency Service

The drill was going on merrily. It was four days after the fire at the Hyde place and the cadets had recovered from the effects of their strenuous experience. On the day following the fire the colonel had ordered the suspension of the daily routine and a number of burns had been treated. Weary muscles and sore lungs had been rested to good advantage and now the swing of things was once more in evidence.

All of the units were having infantry drill. Even the cavalry and infantry divisions were compelled to drill with rifles every so often, and today, under Major Rhodes, a graduate of the school and one of the regular staff, they were hard at it. The sun beat down upon them from a clear sky but by this time the cadets were well used to it. The hottest days failed to shake them in their tasks.

Suddenly the colonel appeared and called the major. There was a hurried conference and then the major went back to his position. Crisply he called: “Battalion, attention! Count off in fours!”

The count ran along the line. At a further word the guns were dropped to rest and the cadets faced the colonel. He spoke to them in a ringing voice.

“Gentlemen of the Corps, we are faced with another call to duty. A good many serious things have happened while we have been here on the Ridge, but this is the most serious of them all. The little daughter of the farmer who supplies us with food has been lost or kidnapped!”

The closely packed ranks stirred. The colonel went on: “A number of organized groups are at present looking for this child all over the Ridge. We have not been asked to help, but of course it is our duty and we will form searching parties at once. There will be no more official duties until the child has been found or until some definite word has been received as to her whereabouts. I trust you will dutifully prosecute the search until every inch of the Ridge and the surrounding country has been scoured.”

The colonel saluted the major and turned away.

There was a total silence in the corps but eyes flashed with excitement.

“Companies dismissed,” ordered Major Rhodes.

The cadets broke ranks and stacked arms. From then on things moved fast. In groups the young soldiers formed for the search. It was decided that they would remain away from camp for the night if necessary, and knapsacks were hastily packed. While Don, Jim and Terry were preparing, Vench and Douglas hurried to their tent.

“Suppose we five form a bunch of our own,” Douglas suggested.

“Sure,” responded Don. “I think our best move would be to go to the Carson house and find out where the little girl was last seen. Then we can map out our campaign from that point.”

This was agreed to and the cadets hurried off down the road. It was just noontime and they wanted to get in every bit of work they could while the daylight remained.

“That was the cute little girl we were playing with the day we had the pie,” observed Vench, as they hurried along. “I certainly hope nothing has happened to her.”

“I hope not,” agreed Don. “It’s possible that she just wandered off somewhere. Wonder who told the colonel about it?”

“Little Jimmie Carson,” said Jim promptly. “I saw him come into camp just as we were leaving for drill.”

It did not take them long to reach the Carson house, which they found to be thronged with visitors. Men from the neighboring houses had come to do their bit by searching and the strong Ridge women had come to console the heartbroken mother. Mrs. Carson was delighted to see the boys.

“Oh, you have come to help look for Dorothy?” she cried, seizing Don’s hands.

“Our colonel has ordered the whole cadet corps to keep searching until we find the little one,” Don smiled. “We have divided up in bands to scour the country.”

“How very kind of your colonel—and of you!” cried the frightened woman. “With so many looking for the child I don’t see why she shouldn’t be found.”

“Unless she’s past finding!” croaked an old lady with a sad air and mournful eyes.

“She isn’t past finding,” snapped Jim, impatiently. “I haven’t any doubt that we’ll locate her. Now, Mrs. Carson, where was she last seen?”

“She went out last night about nine o’clock to bring in a rag doll that she had left out under the grape arbor,” replied the farmer’s wife. “I held the door open for her, so that she would surely find her way in, but she didn’t, poor little soul. Oh, I’m so sorry that I ever let her go out. We searched the yard immediately, but we couldn’t find a trace of her, and she didn’t answer our calls.”

“Thank you,” said Don gently. “Then she disappeared from her own back yard?”

“Yes,” nodded Mrs. Carson, wiping her eyes.

At that moment the county sheriff, a tall and disagreeable-looking man named Blount, swaggered into the room. It was evident that he regarded himself as the most important person there and as his eyes fell on the cadets his brow darkened.

“Humph!” he grunted. “So those soldier kids are looking too, eh? Well, they won’t find anything.”

Terry looked at the sheriff’s shoes, and then allowed his eyes to travel slowly up the entire length of his body until he had seen all of him. The sheriff reddened and then blustered.

“Well, what’s the matter with you?” he cried.

“Nothing,” returned Terry, mildly. “I’ve never really seen an important man before and I wanted to get a good look now that I am close to one!”

“Say, I’ll run you kids—” began the angry sheriff, as a slight snicker went up. But Don cut him short.

“Come on, you fellows,” he called. “We have work to do. No use standing around wasting breath on useless subjects.”

“Nice kindly old soul, that sheriff,” growled Vench, when the cadets were again outside.

“He isn’t worth thinking about,” said Don. “Now, boys, let’s get on the job.”

Their first job was to look under the grape arbor, but scores of feet had churned up the ground so that nothing could be learned from it. They left the yard and struck off into the woods.

“Too bad we couldn’t find a clue under the arbor,” grumbled Terry.

“I doubt if there were any clues,” advanced Jim. “Some of the men would have seen them in the first place. After all, we aren’t detectives, and our job is to beat up the Ridge much in the manner of going over it with a fine-tooth comb.”

“That is true,” nodded Vench. “Suppose we don’t run across her tonight? Are you going back to camp?”

“No,” decided Don. “We’d only lose time. We’ll stay here and get a fresh start early in the morning. The colonel wants us to stay right on the job until some trace of her is found.”

“How are we to know if she is found?” Douglas asked.

“A cannon will be fired three times,” replied Terry. “That’s the signal for recall.”

Throughout the entire afternoon and early evening the cadets tramped over the Ridge, going to parts of the rolling hills that they had never seen before. There was no sign of the little one, although they kept their eyes wide open, and it was quite late before they struck camp for the night. They made a fire and spread out their blankets and provisions.

While they ate darkness descended over the Ridge. The meal was a good one and the tired cadets ate heartily. Afterward they discussed the wisdom of keeping watch.

“Not that anyone will come along and gobble us up,” said Terry, “but if that child should call out in the night we’d miss her if we were all asleep.”

“That’s true,” Jim said. “And, anyway, I think we ought to have a fire going all night. We’ll want one in the morning. That ghost is some human being bent on mischief and we must keep our eyes open for him. I’m sure he’s mixed up in this thing, somehow.”

This was agreed to and the boys figured out watches for themselves. During the evening, before they went to sleep, they sat around on their blankets and talked quietly, listening for any call or unusual sound. None came and at nine o’clock they decided to turn in.

Throughout the night the separate watches were faithfully kept and the cadet who sat watch listened to the night sounds. But when the morning finally came and they rolled out at daybreak, not one of them had heard a single sound that would lead them to hope.

“We’ll have to put in a good hard day,” Don said, as they ate the last of their sandwiches.

Terry scrambled to his feet. “I’m going down to the brook and fill my canteen,” he announced. “I don’t know where there is a spring around and that brook looks perfectly all right.”

“Maybe you had better boil the water and make sure before you drink it,” Vench suggested.

Terry went back into the bushes some fifty feet until he found a gurgling little brook. The water looked cool and refreshing as it bubbled around the stones, and the redhead bent down to fill his canteen. It was then that a sound reached him, a sound that caused him to straighten up.

“Now, did the brook make that sound?” he wondered.

But it came again and Terry hesitated no longer. With a single bound he hopped across the water and parted the bushes on the other side. There, in a tiny hollow like a cave, her feet wet and her clothing covered with mud, sat the little Carson girl, her eyes red with weeping and her face swollen from her contact with vines and branches. She stared in wild terror at Terry as he broke his way through the bushes, but as he spoke to her the look faded for one of glad recognition.

A trembling gladness filled the boy. With a smothered cry he jumped at the child, sweeping her in his arms and pressing her to him as though she had been his own.

“You blessed little mischief-maker!” he choked. “What are you doing out here?”

“The ghost, he chase me,” wailed the child, beginning to tremble. “I go for my dolly and the ghost come after me. I want my mama.”

“You’re going to have your mama,” promised Terry. “So that confounded ghost is at the bottom of it, is he?”

“Yes, he chase me,” sighed the child. “You’re the soldier that ate mama’s pie.”

“That’s right,” grinned Terry. “Come along, I’m going to take you home.”

He gathered the little body in his arms, easily jumped the creek, and fairly flew back to the camp. The others were rolling up their bundles as he dashed up.

“Took you a long time to get that water,” Jim hailed.

“I’ll show you what kind of water I got,” whooped the happy redhead. “Allow me to introduce Miss Dorothy Carson!”

A medley of cries greeted the good news and the child and Terry were nearly knocked over in the rush. Dorothy Carson was pawed by the boys but did not seem to mind it.

“Where’d you find her?” Don asked, squeezing Terry’s arm.

“Heard her crying back of some bushes,” was the reply. “That darned old ghost chased her away from the house.”

The return journey was swiftly made to Carson’s house and the mother was nearly frantic with joy. At the farmhouse they found the colonel with Major Rhodes, and together they all listened to the story of the child regarding the ghost. She had gone out to get the doll, had seen the fearful shape near the chicken house, and too terrified to call out she had run away into the hills, where she had wandered until Terry had found her.

The boys were overwhelmed with thanks and praises and Terry’s face became as red as his hair. The boastful sheriff was away at the time with a posse and there was no one to resent their success. After a happy time at the house they all went back to camp. Terry had the honor of firing the “Gossip” three times as the recall. Before two o’clock the entire corps was back in camp, eagerly exchanging news. All of them had searched faithfully.

Just before taps that night Jordan, Terry, Don, Jim, Douglas and Vench were requested to report to the colonel after drill on the following day. Wondering what could be in the wind the cadets went to bed, to sleep soundly after their strenuous search.

11 The Ghost Patrol

On the following day, when the General Orders were read, the cadets who had been most active in the search for Dorothy were warmly commended. All of the cadets were thanked by the colonel. Then the officers called for three rousing cheers for Cadet Mackson. These were given with a will.

“Mackson again!” hissed Cadet Rowen, under his breath. “It was only an accident and yet he gets a cheer for it. Wouldn’t that make you sick?”

No one being addressed, no answer was given. But Terry himself felt that it was simply an accident.

“I just happened to be there at the brook at the right moment and heard her crying,” he told his friends. “If I hadn’t been the one, someone else would have run across her eventually. So I don’t see what the fuss is all about.”

“We make a fuss because you are such an old souse!” laughed Jim. “If you hadn’t gone for a drink it might have been days before the child was found. Lucky thing you like to drink so much.”

“I’ll drink nothing but water all my life, in honor of the piece of service that drink did me,” promised the redhead.

In the mess tent that noontime the colonel rapped on the head table for order. The rattling of spoons and plates became still and the cadets faced him expectantly.

“Gentlemen,” said the colonel. “Since we have been here on the Ridge we have been quite deeply annoyed by this silly ghost that has been playing tricks in the neighborhood. I say silly in the sense that it is silly to play at such small things, but in another sense it may turn out to be something serious. I think that we have all had enough of the business and I promise you that if that ghost comes around the camp we will make short work of him. Now, what I want you to do is this: if you, any of you, learn anything definite about this ghost, either from hearsay or your own observations, I want all facts reported to me at once. Although we haven’t time to go meddling all over the Ridge I think we are duty-bound to lay this ghost if possible, and so let me know whatever you learn about this ghost business.”

There was a buzz as the headmaster sat down and the ghost of the Ridge furnished the topic for discussion during the rest of the meal. Drill ended that, and after the afternoon work was over the cadets named on the previous evening reported at the colonel’s big tent. He was waiting for them.

“Sit down anywhere you can, boys,” he told them. “On the bed or the chairs. I guess we can find room for all of us. Will you pull the flap closed, Captain Jordan?”

Jordan obeyed and the colonel faced his interested boys. “Well, you heard what I had to say today at the mess tent regarding the responsibility of each cadet in regard to the ghost trouble on this Ridge. That will do very nicely for the corps at large, for if I gave some of them too much authority some grave mistakes of overzealousness would probably follow. But to you young men I want to give a commission that I’m sure you will handle with care and tact.”

He paused and nothing was said. Crossing his knees the colonel went on: “I spoke of the fact that ruining this ghost and his game was our duty as citizens, and it is. Inquiry has revealed that the people hereabouts are very superstitious, and they have taken this ghost on trust for several years. Of course, in a community of sensible men and women the thing would have been run out long ago, but there is just enough fear and superstition in the people around here to imagine this ghost to be the real thing and not some human being who is simply playing on their fears and ignorance. You may have noticed that when we brought that child back to Mrs. Carson she simply said: ‘I’ll never let you out again where that ghost can scare you.’ No question or thought about driving him away, but just a passive resignation to the fact that he is here and belongs here.