"We trailed three ghosts," he said. "All human."

Scotty added, "And one of them was named Carleton Hilleboe. At least that was the name on the registration of their car."

They told the story in detail while Mrs. Miller and Jan fried eggs and bacon and made toast for their breakfast. Barby listened quietly, but if Rick had any idea she would be convinced, he was mistaken. When the recital ended she pointed out, "There's no reason why mortals shouldn't take advantage of a ghost. You still haven't proved that the ghost at the mine isn't real, or how the cold almost knocked you out last night."

"True," Rick had to admit. "We're not making much progress there."

Over breakfast Dr. Miller told them about the Hilleboes. "They were one of the big families in this vicinity two or three decades ago. They had the biggest house in this part of Virginia, but it burned down about twenty years ago and the kids moved away. There is no house on their land now. They rent some of the land to tenants. Carleton Hilleboe is the eldest son. He's in a business of some kind in Washington. He either controls or owns the property, I'm not sure which."

"Including the upland cornfield above the mine?" Rick asked.

"Yes, and all the property to the east of ours for a mile or two."

"Could he be the mysterious buyer Collins is acting for?" Rick asked.

"It's possible, although why he would want our share of the mine and the field opposite is beyond me. I think a talk with Collins is in order. If you two want to come to town with me, I think I'll beard him in his den.

I've no intention of selling, but I won't tell him that."

On the way to town the boys agreed it would be best for Dr. Miller to talk with Collins alone. He obviously didn't like young people--at least them--and he would be more apt to confide in Dr. Miller if the scientist interviewed him alone.

The scientist agreed. "Why don't you two wait in the drugstore? You can have a c.o.ke or something."

Dr. Miller parked the car in front of Collins' house and the boys crossed the street to the drugstore. Although it was early in the day, both ordered a dish of ice cream. They were eating it and exchanging small talk with the druggist when the Frostola scooter pulled up outside. Both tensed as the Frostola man came in, but he greeted them impersonally and turned to the druggist. "I'd like a tin of aspirin, please."

"That infected hangnail still bothering you?" the druggist asked sympathetically.

"No, it's okay today," the peddler answered swiftly. "I've got a slight headache, that's all."

He paid for the aspirin, accepted the druggist's offer of a gla.s.s of water, downed two pills, and left.

"Seemed in a hurry," Rick commented.

The druggist nodded. "Seemed so. He usually stops to pa.s.s the time of day. Had a terrible time yesterday with an infected hangnail. They can be pretty painful. I tried to sell him a new a.n.a.lgesic ointment, but he insisted on methyl chloride. He had an old refillable prescription from some doctor over in Arlington. Said he got it because infected hangnails bother him all the time. Lucky I had some. It used to be used all the time for pain from superficial wounds, but it went out of style. He bought a whole pint. Enough to last for fifty hangnails. Told him he didn't need it, but he insisted."

Rick said thoughtfully, "His hands seemed to be all right today. No bandages."

"All he had was a plastic-tape bandage around his thumb yesterday, anyway. Guess the infection must have cleared up."

"What's methyl chloride?" Rick asked.

"A highly volatile chemical. It's not a painkiller in the usual sense, like aspirin. You spray it on the area that hurts, and it evaporates in seconds. You know what that does."

Rick did! And suddenly last night's events were perfectly, transparently clear.

"Evaporation cools the surface," Rick said for Scotty's benefit. "The faster the evaporation, the faster the cooling. This methyl chloride must act pretty fast."

"It does," the druggist agreed. "That's how it kills pain, partly. It chills the outer layer of skin almost instantly."

CHAPTER XV

The Missing Facts

Dr. Miller's conversation with Jethro Collins was something less than satisfactory. He told the boys about it on the way home.

"I told him bluntly that I was suspicious about his offer because the property he wants to buy has little value as farm land and contains no timber or anything else of commercial value. I told him I wouldn't consider an offer until I knew what the land was to be used for."

The scientist chuckled. "That was my way of putting him on a spot, of course. But he refused to be cornered. He replied that his customer wanted the land for reasons of his own, which it was not Collins' place to divulge. He a.s.sured me the land would not be used for commercial purposes, so my own property would be quite safe.

"I replied that I needed more a.s.surances than his word, and demanded to know the ident.i.ty of his client. I pointed out that the name would become known during the process of settlement anyway, unless his client proposed to use a dummy of some sort in which to register the deed to the land."

"But he wouldn't tell you the name," Rick guessed.

"Correct. My guess is that he would use a dummy of some sort, perhaps even Collins himself as nominal owner of the land."

Scotty offered, "People don't buy land unless it has some value for something. Can't you think of any way in which your land has value?"

"I'm afraid not. I've tried to puzzle it out, with no success. The field itself is all right, if fertilized and limed, but the rest is worthless for farming. There isn't even an access road. The road leading into the picnic area and across the creek to the house is my own property. It's a private road."

Rick kept wondering about the radioactive ore. "Could there be any minerals worth mining?"

"Not even that, Rick. Except for the igneous outcropping in which the mine is located, this whole valley is sedimentary rock, probably for a depth of several hundred feet. Even the foothills are the same kind of rock. They were moved upward from what is now the valley during a shift in the earth's crust. The faults in the formation show this clearly."

"The whole business is tied together somehow," Rick said with conviction. "So far we've been trying to follow threads. We come across other threads that seem to run crossways, but that's because what we're trying to see is a whole piece of cloth, not just the threads. So far we don't know if the cloth is a whole suit or just a handkerchief."

"The metaphor is a little obscure, but I get your meaning, and I agree."

Dr. Miller drew to a stop in the driveway of his home. "Suppose we have a late morning bit of refreshment and use our heads instead of our legs?"

At the scientist's request, the girls produced a snack of toast and jam with iced tea and soft drinks. Mrs. Miller begged to be excused from the council because of housework to be done, but the others gathered in the living room to explore the mystery from every angle.

Dr. Miller led the discussion. The scientist was obviously intrigued by the problem, even though he had let the boys handle things in their own way. As he explained with a twinkle, "Rick and Scotty have reputations as detectives to maintain. I'm a poor, simple physicist. No one expects me to solve this mystery. So the boys have to be given first chance to bring the ghost to bay."

Barby sniffed. "You're all pretty sure the ghost is a fake."

"And you're not," Rick observed. "I guess we'll have to put him in a bottle for you before you'll believe it."

"Peace," Dr. Miller interposed. "Each to his or her own opinions. We're here in pursuit of facts, not fancies. Rick, you're first at bat."

Rick considered. What were the most important facts? They had been working on a.s.sumptions, but a.s.sumptions need proof before they can be accepted as valid.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm listing the facts in order of importance, but I'll try. First, the ghosts that walk the fields at night are humans."

Barby interrupted. "How can you be certain?"

"They looked human. We saw their silhouettes against the sky clearly enough to see their shapes, and they were human shapes." As she started to speak again, he held up his hand. "Whoa! Let me finish. Ghosts also have human shapes is probably your counterargument. I'm not arguing that ghosts don't really exist, but if they do, they are supposed to be sort of nonsolid, aren't they? Like the Blue Ghost at the mine. But the field ones were solid enough. No light showed through them."