the paramecium and the rotifer. His
laboratory was a table on the front porch of the big Brant house on
Spindrift Island, because the ocean breeze made it a comfortable place
to work, and because Barby's absence meant the porch wasn't cluttered
with half the female population of Whiteside High School.

As Rick came within sight of the cove, Scotty was already docking. The
husky ex-Marine threw a hitch over the dock cleat and jumped to the
pier, waving excitedly as he saw Rick.

"Hey! Wait until you see what I have!"

Rick let his long legs carry him swiftly to meet the other boy. When
Scotty got excited, something unusual was up. He called, "What is it?"

Scotty yelled, "We're going ghost hunting!"

Rick stopped in his tracks. He waited until Scotty was within normal
voice range. "Come on into the house," he invited. "We'll get you some
aspirin and put a wet towel on your head. The sun's got you, that's
all."

The dark-haired boy shook his head vehemently. "Don't jump at
conclusions in this heat, brother Brant. You'll get overheated. Just
listen to what's in this letter."

Rick squinted against the glare. "Who's it from?"

"Barby and Jan."

Rick groaned. "Don't you know Barby's been gone on ghosts ever since she
started watching that TV program on Sunday nights?"

"This is different," Scotty insisted. "But since you're such a skeptic,
you can wait until we've hauled in the food. Come on, scientist. And
unless you keep an open mind until you hear the evidence, we'll take
your Junior Experimenter badge away."

Rick had to grin. There was justice in his pal's comment. "Okay, we'll
play it your way. But the evidence had better be good!"

Mrs. Brant was in the kitchen when the boys arrived with the bags of
groceries Scotty had brought. She recognized her daughter's handwriting
immediately and pointed to the letter sticking out of Scotty's shirt
pocket. "What's the news in Virginia?"

"Barby found a haunted house," Rick said with a grin. "Scotty's all
excited."

"He's handing out bum dope, as usual," Scotty added. "He hasn't even
read the letter." He grinned widely. "But I have. And he'll eat his
words before we're through."

Rick fielded a can of tomatoes Scotty tossed at him and put it on the
canned-goods shelf. "Never had indigestion from eating my words yet."

"This time," Scotty said happily, "we'll paint them on an oak plank
before you start eating."

Mrs. Brant smiled. "Hurry up and get those bun