hem tightly. They frayed one end with a
jackknife to make the torch.

"Got a match?" Rick asked.

Scotty looked at him blankly, then grinned. "No, have you?"

"No match, no flint or steel, no ... hey, wait! I've got a pocket lens!"

Rick's enthusiasm for microscopy had extended to the purchase of a
twelve-power pocket lens to supplement the microscope Barby had given
him. The pocket lens was used for examining specimens before taking them
home for closer scrutiny under the more powerful instrument. Rick had
not yet gotten used to carrying the small lens and had forgotten it
until the need for a burning glass arose.

He took the lens from his watch pocket and unfolded it from the
protective metal case. It focused the sun's rays to a pinpoint of
intense light and heat, and the charred paper then burst into a tiny
flame. Rick blew the flame into life, then put his lens back for
safekeeping.

"Nothing like the scientific method," he told his pal. "Who needs
matches? Come on. Let's burn that ghost out of there."

Scotty grinned. "Nothing like luck," he corrected. "Okay, I'm right
behind you."

They retraced their steps into the mine. Rick noted as they went through
the entrance that the old mine timbers were pretty well rotted through.
He guessed that the mine had been boarded up because it was unsafe. He
and Scotty would have to be careful.

In a few moments they were in deep gloom, only the smoky, fitful flicker
of Rick's torch giving them light enough to see by. The newspaper wasn't
burning very well, probably because he had rolled it too tightly. They
could see only a trace of daylight.

The old shaft turned at nearly right angles where a geological fault had
forced the Civil War miners to change directions in order to follow the
vein of good ore. The turn cut off most of the light, except for the
waning flicker of Rick's torch. Scotty hurriedly held his own torch to
the flame to light it.

Rick was never sure what happened at that point, whether Scotty's torch
pushed too hard and extinguished his own, or whether a sudden icy wind
blew through the mine shaft. He knew only that they were instantly in
darkness, while faraway ghostly laughter echoed in their ears!

CHAPTER V

Night Alarm

Rick lathered a hot dog with mustard and took a satisfying bite. It was
a down-to-earth hot dog with no mystery, no eerieness about it, for
which he was grateful. He hadn't admitted it, but the incident in the
mi