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THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY
A RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE STORY
BY JOHN BLAINE
BY GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1960
NEW YORK, N. Y.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Printed in the United States of America_
[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not discover a US copyright
renewal]
Contents
I A SPOOKY INVITATION
II DEATH AT COSTIN'S CREEK
III THE BLUE GHOST
IV THE OLD MINE
V NIGHT ALARM
VI THE DARK PIT
VII THE FROSTOLA MAN
VIII PLAN OF ATTACK
IX THE SPLITTING ATOMS
X AN ASSIST FROM JANIG
XI THE GHOST REAPPEARS
XII THE DEAD WATER
XIII THE NIGHT WATCHERS
XIV THE COLD, COLD CLUE
XV THE MISSING FACTS
XVI TRAPPED!
XVII IN DARKNESS
XVIII THE FIRST FACT
XIX THE FINAL FACT
XX DEATH OF A GHOST
List of Illustrations
_There was no place the Blue Ghost could have gone_
_"See a way up, Rick?" Scotty called_
_"This calls for an expert," Rick said discouragingly_
_The timber had given way. They were trapped!_
THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY
CHAPTER I
A Spooky Invitation
Rick Brant moved with infinite care. With one hand he adjusted the focus
of his microscope, while with the other he brought the sharp glass tip
of the pipette into view. He released his thumb for a fraction of a
second and let a drop of blue fluid flow into the field of view.
The microscopic monster shot out its defensive weapons, shuddered, and
was still. For a moment Rick inspected his work, then sat back with a
sigh. Staining microscopic animals was delicate work, but this specimen
had turned out perfectly. At the instant the stain hit the animal, it
had shot out its trichocysts, or stinging hairs. Rick hoped they would
photograph. He needed a good picture for the science project on which he
was working.
To rest his eyes he turned in his chair and looked out over the broad
horizon of the Atlantic Ocean. It was a calm day, and the calmness was
reflected in the leisurely pace of life on Spindrift Island. The famous
island off the New Jersey coast, home of the Spindrift Scientific
Foundation, had not always been so peaceful, Rick thought. Many
scientific experiments of world importance had taken place, or had
begun, in the long, low, gray laboratory buildings on the southeast
corner of the island.
Most recently, Rick Brant and his pal Donald Scott, nicknamed Scotty,
had taken part in an expedition to the Sulu Sea. The quiet, scientific
survey of human and animal life in the area had begun on Spindrift
Island, but had ended in a bloody fight on another island, in a far
corner of the globe, as told in _The Pirates of Shan_.
Now, though, all was serene. The scientists were at work on reports, or
teaching summer sessions at universities. No major experiments were in
progress, and no expeditions were being planned.
Rick grinned. If he came right down to it, one reason for the peace and
quiet was the absence of his sister Barbara. Barby, a year his junior,
was visiting with the Millers, one of the island's scientific families,
at their ancestral home in Virginia. Barby and Jan Miller had a way of
making life somewhat frenzied, or at least less quiet than at present.
The sound of a fast-moving motorboat intruded on the quiet and Rick
cocked an ear. It was one of the Spindrift boats, judging by the sound.
That meant Scotty was returning from the mainland with the groceries and
the mail.
Rick stood up and stretched luxuriously. He decided to walk down to the
cove and meet Scotty. He could help carry the groceries. Besides, he
hoped that Scotty would have a package for him from a biological supply
house.
Rick's interest in microscopy had begun with Barby's present of a
complete microscope set. It was a beauty, with magnifications up to
three hundred times. It had its own light source, a substage
illuminator, and even an "atomic energy" stage, which was actually a
device for viewing the scintillations caused when radioactivity hit a
sulfide screen.
Barby's gift was far more than a toy, and Rick promptly put it to work
on a science project, in which he planned to compare the life cycles of
two common microscopic animals, 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 bundles unpacked, you two. I
want to hear about this mysterious business."
In a short time the three of them had stowed the week's supply of food,
and Mrs. Brant produced fresh doughnuts and cold milk.
"Now," she said, "suppose you read the letter, Scotty."
Dr. Hartson Brant, Rick's dad and head of the island scientific
foundation, came into the kitchen in time to hear the last remark. "Can
I listen too?" he asked. "With milk and doughnuts to help, of course."
Rick personally poured the milk for his father and added doughnuts to
the plate, just to save time. He couldn't admit it to Scotty, of course,
but he was plenty curious in spite of his skepticism. He knew Scotty,
and his pal wouldn't get excited over some silly business that Barby
might write about.
Scotty produced the letter. "It's addressed to both Rick and me," he
began, "and it's from both Barby and Jan. Shall I read?"
"Go on," Rick said impatiently, and had to bear Scotty's knowing grin.
Scotty knew that Rick's bump of curiosity was the largest thing he
owned.
"Okay. It starts with 'Dear Rick and Scotty.'"
"Interesting," Rick said. "Unusual."
"Uh-uh. Quiet, please. It goes on, 'You must come at once, both of you,
because we have a ghost here. I know Rick will think I'm silly, but it's
true.' And Jan put in a sentence in her own handwriting at this point
that says, 'Barby is right. It's not only true, it's unbelievable.'"
Scotty continued. "'We heard about the ghost first thing we arrived,
from Mr. Belsely, the Millers' tenant farmer. Of course we didn't
believe it, but last night we went to a picnic at the Old Mine
Campground, and we saw it too! Honestly, we're still both lumpy with
goose pimples. It was just ghastly, but it was kind of romantic, too. If
Dr. and Mrs. Miller hadn't been along, I don't think we'd have believed
we had really experienced such a thing. But they saw it, too, and Dr.
Miller says he has never heard of anything like it.'"
Rick waited for more, scarcely breathing for fear of missing a word.
"'So you had better come right away,'" Scotty read on. "'You can fly
down and land right at the Millers'. We have shown on the map where to
land, and we will put out white towels to make a panel so you can see us
from the air. Please hurry. Barby and Jan."
"Sounds pretty urgent," Hartson Brant said with interest. "Anything
else?"
"Yes, sir. There's a postscript from Dr. Miller. He says, 'The girls
were pretty excited when they wrote the above, and with excellent
reason. Apparently this apparition appears fairly often. A number of
townfolk have seen it. I don't know what you can do, unless your
ingenuity can produce a super spook catcher, but you will enjoy tackling
this problem. It is worthy of your best effort. Mrs. Miller and I
heartily endorse the girls' invitation."
Rick took a deep breath. "I'll eat my words," he agreed. "Even if you
inscribe them in deathless bronze, as the poet says. How about that,
Dad? Dr. Miller isn't the excitable type, but he was pretty strong in
his statements."
The scientist, who looked like an older version of his tall son, nodded
agreement and stoked his pipe thoughtfully. "The letter was obviously
written in haste, because neither the girls nor Walter took time for a
description. What about it? Think you'll go?"
Scotty spoke emphatically. "I'm going. But I'm not sure Rick can get his
nose out of that microscope."
"No need," Rick said, grinning. "I'll just take it with me. Besides, I
might pick up a new species or two in Virginia."
Scotty sighed. "Ever since you got that mike from Barby we've seen
practically nothing of you but the top of your head."
Rick's mother spoke up. "I agree with Scotty, Rick. I know how anxious
you are to do a good job on your project, but you've been at it for
weeks now. Your eyes need a rest even if the rest of you doesn't."
"Don't worry, Mom," Rick said. "After that endorsement from Dr. Miller,
chains couldn't keep me from going to Virginia. After all, what's a
collection of microscopic animals compared to a genuine, one hundred per
cent dyed-in-the-ectoplasm spook?"