Part 8

He found that the others were waiting for him impatiently. “Golly, we thought that you were lost,” said Jordan, impatiently.

“No, just talking with Mr. Vancouver,” said Don. “Didn’t have any luck, eh?”

“Not a bit,” returned the senior captain. “Well, I suppose we may as well head in.”

It did not take them long to make camp, where they found the others awaiting them. Jordan reported to the colonel, who had heard the shot and who knew from Rowen’s own report what had happened. Howes was ordered to blow the bugle as a sign of recall, and before very long all of the groups had returned.

“Too bad we lost him,” said the colonel, shaking his head. “I believe it was entirely due to Mr. Rowen’s disobedience. I have ordered him into permanent arrest, until I decide what to do with him. Sound taps, Mr. Howes.”

Don thought deeply before falling asleep. “I guess I’ll keep things to myself, at least for a time,” he decided. “It all sounds so farfetched that I hate to drag out my discoveries. But that man was surely out of his chair and out of his house this night! Now that I have something definite to work on something tangible may come up before long. The next thing we had better do is to find out who that mysterious flagman was.”

16 Listening In

The following day the camp was vibrant with excitement as the cadets relived the events of the night before. Everyone, of course, lamented the fact that Rowen had unwisely frightened the ghost away, but the boys realized that there was nothing to do but wait for the ghost to walk again.

During the afternoon some of the cadets noticed a stranger enter the colonel’s tent. The caller stayed a short time and then left, taking the road which led to Rideway. Later Jordan, Don and Jim were ordered to the colonel’s tent. Having seen the visitor, they wondered if their summons was in any way connected with him.

“Come in, come in,” invited the colonel as the boys approached his quarters. “I have a job for you to do, that is, if you are willing.”

“Anything you say, Colonel,” Don replied, speaking for the group.

“Perhaps you noticed that I had a visitor this afternoon.” He looked at the three cadets before him expectantly and they nodded to affirm this. “That was Mr. Farnsworth, the superintendent of the local telephone exchange in Rideway. It seems that his night operator was suddenly taken ill this morning and will be unable to go on duty tonight. He has no extra help at this time and thought perhaps one of the cadets knew how to operate a switchboard.”

“I have run our switchboard at school a few times,” said Jim, hesitantly. “However, I imagine this one in Rideway is far more complicated.”

“Splendid!” said the colonel. “I thought I remembered correctly that you had, Jim. You will have no trouble at all with this local exchange. Mr. Farnsworth assured me that it was a simple board, else he would not have approached me. You see, this exchange is a small one and does not require a complicated system such as those one finds in large cities.”

“Well, I’ll do my best, sir,” promised Jim.

“I’m sure of that. Now, Don and Jordan, I want you to accompany Jim. You are to be at the exchange from midnight until seven o’clock, so perhaps three of you can keep one another awake for that period. Mr. Farnsworth will meet you there and show you what to do. Now, I suggest that you try to get some sleep before midnight. You will be awakened at the proper time and when you get to Rideway go to the building on the left of the town hall.

“You never can tell,” the colonel continued with a wink, “but what this job may be far from dull. Remember that you are still members of the Ghost Patrol. Be alert!”

The three lucky cadets went immediately to their tents to talk over the piece of good news. They ate supper and after an hour turned in to sleep. Terry wailed at the fate that had left him out of it.

“Some guys have all the luck,” he whined in a voice imitating Dick Rowen’s. “I can’t stand these Mercer boys, anyway. Besides, I’ve got the biggest ears and the colonel should have sent me.”

The Officer of the Guard awakened the boys at the proper hour and they left the camp, passing the sentries safely. It did not take them long to cross the Ridge and strike down into Rideway. They found the streets totally deserted. Alongside the town hall they found the proper building and at their knock they were admitted by Mr. Farnsworth. He wore a telephone headset, consisting of one phone, a curved mouthpiece that fastened to the soundbox which rested on his chest, and a long, detachable plug.

He showed them the switchboard bearing scores of small white buttons that lighted up when the calls came in, and rows of multiple holes into which the plugs were inserted when calls were connected. He explained things in brief detail to them.

“This is what they call a manual board, as against a dial board,” he said. “We have five girls working here in the daytime, but one operator is sufficient at night. Now, unless you have some questions, I’ll be leaving.”

“I think I understand this sort of system,” answered Jim promptly. “It shouldn’t cause us any trouble.”

Thus assured, Mr. Farnsworth left. Then the three boys got a fair insight into the night telephone operator’s job. There was complete silence until two-thirty when a call was received. Jim handled it expertly. There were few calls after that and the time went by much too slowly for the three active boys.

“This certainly is a lonely job,” remarked Jordan, around a quarter after three.

“Yes, but I imagine you get used to it after a while,” answered Don.

Just at that moment the switchboard buzzed twice. “Hmm, long distance,” murmured Jim. “Mr. Farnsworth mentioned that two short rings was the signal for a long-distance call.”

He plugged in below the lighted signal. At his answer a dull voice said, “Let me have Main 7200.”

Jordan was about to speak when Jim sat bolt upright and signaled to the others to be silent. His eyes grew as big as saucers as he listened intently. Don and Jordan were mystified by his actions, but they said not a word. It seemed an interminable length of time before Jim closed the key and plugged into another line.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” Don questioned his brother eagerly.

“I’ll tell you all about it in a minute. I’ve got to do something first!”

The others listened impatiently while Jim held a short conversation with someone who seemed to be another operator. At last Jim removed the headset and turned to his companions.

“That was a call to the drugstore and it was about the ghost!” Jim said breathlessly.

“What!” exclaimed Don and Jordan together.

“I was just on the point of closing the key, after making sure that the connection was correct, when I heard someone say, ‘Those cadets chased the ghost into the old Furmen house and very nearly caught him.’ That’s when I motioned to you not to talk. Then the other voice said, ‘Those meddling cadets again, was it?’ and the person at the drugstore, who gave his name as Rose, answered, Yes, Mr. Maul.’”

“Maul!” shouted Don. “Why, that’s the name of the family the Hydes had a feud with!”

“Then there is one of them still alive,” Jordan said thoughtfully.

“That’s the same conclusion I reached,” Jim said. “I just checked the origin of the call with the operator and she told me it was from a pay station in Crossland.”

“Golly! Wait until the colonel hears about this. I’ll bet he never dreamed we would really come up with something tonight,” Jordan said excitedly.

“But I haven’t told you everything,” Jim interrupted. “The man named Maul gave the clerk instructions to relay to the ghost. He is to go to him this afternoon and tell him to start prowling on the far side of the Ridge. In about a week he said he would send orders referring to another attempt to burn the Hydes out. His final word was, ‘First I will get rid of those schoolboy soldiers.’”

“That means another chance to catch the ghost!” exclaimed Jordan. “Say, we ought to trail that clerk when he goes out this afternoon.”

“And I’ll tell you just where he will go, too,” said Don calmly. He had been unusually quiet during the conversation between his brother and Jordan, because he had been thinking things out.

“Where?” the others demanded.

“To the cabin of Peter Vancouver,” returned Don.

“Why to him?” asked Jordan. “He’s lame and can’t get about.”

“My best uniform that he isn’t,” Don laughed. “Let me tell you what happened the night we chased the ghost.” With that he related the story of his visit to Vancouver’s cabin. “I’m positive that he had been out that night, and I don’t think for a minute that he is an invalid at all.”

“Without arousing suspicion, let’s try to find out from Mr. Farnsworth how long the man has been living in that cabin,” Jim suggested.

The others agreed to the idea and waited impatiently for seven o’clock to come. At last it did and Mr. Farnsworth was prompt.

He thanked them earnestly and inquired whether they had had any difficulties. Jim assured him he had not. Mr. Farnsworth was a friendly person and was very interested in the cadets’ activities. He kept the boys there for a few minutes, asking them questions concerning their camp life.

The superintendent’s interest enabled the boys to describe their hikes through the countryside and, in passing, Jim told him of their visit to Peter Vancouver. He then casually asked Mr. Farnsworth if Vancouver was a native of the region.

“Oh, no,” was the man’s reply. “He moved here only a few years ago. No one knows much about him. He keeps to himself, though of course that’s natural since he’s confined to a wheelchair.”

After a few minutes of further conversation the cadets departed.

They struck the trail for camp at a rapid pace.

“Good golly, I am hungry,” sighed Jim, as they topped the rise.

“I guess we all are,” replied Jordan. “But we have made splendid progress in the last few hours. What a rare piece of luck that you listened in on that call, Jim!”

They arrived in camp while drill was going on and reported at once to the colonel. He was interested and pleased beyond measure.

“That is splendid work, boys,” he approved, heartily. “Now, some of you must do some active trailing. I suppose you three feel equal to the observation task, don’t you?”

“We will after we have had some breakfast, sir,” Don smiled back.

“Of course. Report to the mess tent at once. Pack something up to take with you and then get your field glasses and find a post from which you can watch the cabin of this supposed cripple. I compliment you on your fine powers of observation regarding this Peter Vancouver, Don.”

“Thank you, sir,” acknowledged Don. “It is a clever game all the way through, and only lucky accidents have put us in touch with the truth.”

“Yes, the kind of accidents that you boys always seem to have,” said the colonel, dryly. “Well, run along to your breakfast.”

“We’re having all the fun,” grinned Jim, as they hiked once more to the top of the Ridge a short time later. “Won’t old redhead pull his hair out in handfuls when he hears of this!”

A small clump of bushes on a high hill gave them a good view of Vancouver’s cabin when sighted through the glasses and there was no danger that they would be seen in turn. The morning passed without any sign of anything moving and they ate their lunch under a hot sun.

“He surely ought to show up this afternoon,” Jordan thought.

“If he waits until nightfall we’re licked,” said Jim.

The afternoon dragged until four o’clock, and then Jordan uttered an exclamation. He had his glasses pointed at the cabin.

“Here he comes now,” he announced, and the others raised their glasses. Sure enough, a man was wending his way up the slope, straight for Vancouver’s cabin, and Jim called their attention to a white package that he had in his hand.

The clerk stayed in the cabin for an hour and departed at the end of that time. When he had gone, Jordan closed his glass.

“That makes the case complete,” he announced. “Now we can go back and report to the colonel. Who wants to bet that I don’t stay up until taps tonight?”

“Not I,” returned Jim, promptly, “I’m so dead on my feet right now that I won’t know whether you do or not!”

17 Breaking Up Hydes’ Party

On the following morning Colonel Morrell had an early and unexpected visitor. He was a fairly good-looking young man, with a handsome smile and a confident air. Without introducing himself he asked the colonel of the cadet corps an astonishing question.

“Well, what luck did you have with the ghost the other night?” the man inquired with a pleasant smile.

There was a pause before the colonel answered him. “Unfortunately we missed him after a considerable chase. Are you the one who—?”

“Yes, I sent you the wigwag,” replied the young man. “I am a scoutmaster over in Rideway and that’s how I happen to know the signals. I’ve been wanting to put this stupid ghost out of business and saw this opportunity to do it.”

“How did you come to find out that the ghost was going to walk, Mr.—?” began the colonel.

“My name is Benson,” explained the other. “Between 1:00 A.M. and 8:00 A.M. I am employed as a telephone operator on the local switchboard. I was suddenly taken ill the other day or I would have been up to see you sooner.”

“Oh, so you’re the night operator. Some of our boys filled in for you in your absence.”

“Mr. Farnsworth has told me about that. It was very kind of you, sir.”

“It is good training for our boys. It makes them realize their responsibility as citizens to help in any sort of emergency which may arise, I believe. But tell me why you warned us of the ghost’s activities.”

“It was really an accident that I heard a conversation that morning which gave me the information. There was a long-distance telephone call made to our local drugstore. I connected the line and rang. Then, forgetting to close my key more than anything else, I listened while the receiver was picked up at the drugstore. I was pretty sleepy at the time, but I was knocked wide awake by hearing the party on the far end of the wire say: ‘What are the latest activities, Rose? I know about the failure to burn Hyde’s farm. Has the ghost walked since?’ That staggered me and I listened closely to what followed.”

Colonel Morrell leaned forward in his chair. The story of the young scout leader was of great interest to him.

Mr. Benson continued. “The voice at the other end was a low, cold sort of voice, and I was trying to catch a clue from it, hoping that the clerk would use a name, but he didn’t. He just kept using the title Sir. This voice at the other end said: ‘I know all about those cadets interfering with the activities of the ghost, and I will attend to them personally very soon. When I do, they won’t have so much as a tent left to them or a single horse! But I don’t want the ghost to stay in just because of those soldiers. Tell him to get moving again, and make it his business not to get caught.’ It was that last statement which caused me to get word to you.”

“And a good thing it was, too,” replied Colonel Morrell. He then proceeded to tell Mr. Benson the facts that the boys had uncovered. When he had finished he said, “Rest assured that we will get to the bottom of this unpleasant business. I will keep you informed of any further developments, too.”

As soon as he left, Colonel Morrell called the Mercers and Jordan together for a conference.

“It seems you are not the only person guilty of listening in on telephone conversations, Jim,” he began. Then he told them of Mr. Benson’s visit. “Now I think the next step is to engage a good private detective and see if we can’t have this man Maul located in Crossland. If we merely arrest the paid ghost and don’t get the big man higher up we will accomplish nothing.”

At the evening meal in the mess tent the colonel addressed his corps.

“Boys, some time ago we pledged ourselves to run down this ghost business that is troubling the inhabitants of the Ridge and to date we have made quite a bit of progress, even more than most of you know. In due time full details will be related to you, but at present it seems best to keep things quiet. But this much I wish to tell you: we have learned that this ‘ghost’ is a hired professional who is planning to wipe out our camp. I do not know just how he proposes to do it, whether by fire or mob violence, but it is planned, and according to the information secured the blow will come soon. I am therefore doubling the number of sentries beginning with tonight. Your orders are to alarm the camp instantly if anything out of the ordinary is seen or heard. The Officers of the Guard will exercise unwavering care and conduct rigid inspection of posts.”

The colonel resumed his seat and there was a buzz of excitement and indignation. The cadets welcomed the prospect for some actual and dangerous service, and the prospect of a mob fight was especially alluring. But the feeling was that any move made against them would be in the nature of a stealthy act, and all of the cadets determined to brace themselves for the stern business at hand.

“If any ghost tries to touch the horses I’ll shoot him on sight,” growled Thompson, who loved the animals.

“All I hope is that they rush the camp with a gang,” Terry said. “Wouldn’t that be a swell scrap! Imagine the corps meeting a crowd of roughnecks in a hand-to-hand battle. That would be something to write about!”

“If you were able to write, Redhead,” said a cadet near by.

“Gee, if the battalion couldn’t lick any bunch recruited around here we ought to go back to the school and play tennis all the rest of our lives,” snorted Terry, who was not good at the sport and therefore did not like it.

“I’m afraid that the attack won’t be an open one,” Don told them. “More likely to be something shady.”

“You ought to know, Mercer,” said Motley. “Wish I had been on that switchboard the other night.”

That night the number of guards was doubled and the greatest care was exercised. The Officers of the Guard visited posts at frequent intervals and checked up on the sentries. But the night went by without anything out of the ordinary happening. In the morning Benson brought news.

“That ghost showed up in South Plains last night,” he reported. “Some farmers saw him over that way. That is some distance from here and the ghost is following orders to the letter. I didn’t hear a thing last night, though I listened to every conversation. Tonight he may come back this way. But I don’t know whether you will have to fear him or not, for if you’ll remember Maul promised to do the job himself.”

“We’ll be on the lookout for both of them,” promised the colonel.

That afternoon was a warm one and the boys went swimming. Terry had developed a slight summer cold and so he did not go. He was sitting in front of the tent on a box whittling a piece of wood industriously. The camp was quiet and the shouts of the cadets in the swimming hole drifted to his ears.

There was a voice near Terry and he looked up. The little Carson boy was approaching down the company street from the direction of the woods and Terry waved to him.

“Hi, Jimmie,” greeted Terry. “How are you today?”

“OK, Terry,” smiled the boy. “Why aren’t you in swimming?”

“Got a little cold and the company doctor told me to stay out for a while,” answered the whittler, gravely. “What’s on your mind today, anything in particular?”

“I want to tell you something,” said Jimmie Carson, sitting down on the edge of the box as Terry made room for him. “You know that old man over in the cabin? The man named Vancouver?”

“Yes, I know who he is. Why?”

“Well, what do you think, Mr. Mackson? He isn’t lame at all!”

Terry stopped his whittling abruptly and looked keenly at Jimmie. “How do you know that?” he demanded.

“I heard the Hydes say so,” was the reply. “They are going over there tonight and kill him or something!”

The whittling ceased for good. “The Hydes!” ejaculated Terry. “How did they know?”

“Listen, I was over at the Hydes with my father this morning,” said the boy, his eyes serious and grave. “While Pop was talking to old man Hyde I heard the sons talking in the barn. They didn’t know that I was right outside on our wagon, and I heard them plainly. They said that one of them had seen the man sneak into his cabin late last night, and they found out that he wasn’t any cripple. Seems that one of the Hydes was driving home from some place and he saw the ghost sneak into the cabin. Then he looked in under a window and saw the ghost get back into his chair, so they knew that old man was playing ghost. Can you imagine that, Mr. Mackson?”

“No, I can’t,” returned Terry gravely.

“So they said they was going to go to the cabin tonight and just about kill that old man. I thought at first I’d tell Pa, but I was scared to, so I come up here to tell you fellows about it. I don’t think that old man ought to be hit by those big bully Hydes, do you?”

“No, sir,” said Terry, with emphasis. “Jimmie boy, I’m glad you told me this. Come along to the colonel; we must tell him.”

The colonel was keenly interested in the news. “Thank you for telling us this, my boy,” he smiled down at the rugged lad. “This old man is a wicked fellow to go around scaring people out of their wits, but just as you say he shouldn’t be hit by those Hydes. Mr. Mackson, pass the word to the special patrol to be ready to go with me to the cabin as soon as darkness comes tonight.”

“Very well, Colonel,” said Terry. “I’m glad you are going along, because I feel that this is likely to be a fairly tough situation.”

They left the tent and Terry went to hunt up the other boys, first swearing little Jimmie to secrecy. “Don’t breath a word of it,” he told the boy. “We want to save this old man from a severe beating and we also want to capture him for his part in the business that has been going on around here. So it will be the best thing if you keep very quiet about it.”

“I will, Terry,” promised the lad.

The others soon knew what was expected of them. Just before they started out they met in the tent of the colonel.

“Mr. Vench and Mr. Douglas, I want you to start right away for Rideway and get the sheriff,” ordered the colonel. “We can’t arrest this man ourselves, but he must do it. It may be that we shall have trouble with the Hydes, and anyway, the sheriff is always saying that we interfere with his affairs on the Ridge. You may have trouble with the sheriff, but if you do just tell him that your colonel requests him to come to the cabin.”

“Very well, sir,” Douglas responded, and he and Vench went out.

“We will take side arms with us,” said the colonel, buckling on a revolver belt. “We won’t have to use them, I trust, but at least we’ll be prepared.”

When the others of the Ghost Patrol had equipped themselves they set out with the colonel for the cabin over the hill. Those in the camp saw them go and much speculation went around as to the purpose of the expedition. The camp itself was in order for any emergency, with double guards posted and the major in charge.

Vench and Douglas had obtained a good start and they felt it would not be long before they returned with the sheriff, if he could be persuaded to come. The others swung on toward the little cabin at a rapid pace, topping the rise and bearing down on it.

“Somebody’s at home,” Don said, as they came in sight. “There are lights in the windows.”

“Yes, but look! There are the Hydes!” cried Terry, pointing.