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