The Blue Ghost Mystery: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story Read online

  CHAPTER VI

  The Dark Pit

  The plane's klaxon horn wailed through the night with a noise audiblefor miles. The boys pushed past the tenant farmer and ran through thescreen door on the porch. The plane was not yet in sight and it was verydark out. The moon was hidden by a bank of low-lying clouds, a precursorof rain.

  Rick ran as fast as his long legs would carry him, which was fast enoughto hold a track record or two at Whiteside High. Scotty, in spite of hisgreater weight, was not far behind.

  At least one question was answered, Rick thought as he sped through thetrees, ducking now and then as he caught a glimpse of a low branch. Theghost could set off an alarm system! He fumbled in his pocket to be surethat he had the keys to the plane, and wondered if he would be in timeto keep the apparition from causing damage.

  In the next instant he burst through the fringe of the orchard and brokestride as he saw a pale-blue light dancing in the air around the darkshadow of the Sky Wagon!

  Scotty was right behind him. He, too, paused for an instant as he sawthe light, then both boys were moving at their best speed again.

  Rick tried to control his breathing. The spurt was taking its toll, butif he kept going he would get his second wind. He had to get to theplane! He wondered briefly if a supernatural being could do physicaldamage, then discarded the thought. He wasn't ready to accept thatanything supernatural could trigger purely physical alarm systems!

  The light seemed almost to have features as Rick drew closer, like apale-blue jack-o'-lantern, but it was soon clear that this was nohollowed pumpkin head. It was like a human head illuminated from withinby some ghastly luminescence.

  "It's moving," Scotty called, his voice shaky. Rick saw at the same timethat the apparition was retreating, slowly, away from the plane.

  It kept the distance constant, always retreating as the boys neared.Their own pace had slowed; the initial sprint couldn't be kept up.

  Rick ran directly for the plane, jumped the low wire fence, and insertedhis key in the door. He turned the key and the deafening blast of thehorn cut off, leaving a deep silence. He turned the key back again,resetting the alarm system, then he jumped the fence once more. "Whereis it?"

  "There." Scotty pointed to the bank of the creek. The ghostly blue lightwas swaying, as though in invitation, but it was no longer retreating.

  "What is it?" Rick asked. "It looks like a human head lighted fromwithin. But it's too far in the air to be at head level, unless thisUnion bluecoat was seven feet tall."

  Scotty replied with conviction. "It has to be someone carrying a light."

  "Can you see anyone under it?"

  "No, but that means nothing. The trees make a dark background. I thoughtI caught a glimpse of a body under it while we were running, but I can'tbe certain."

  "There's one way to find out," Rick said, and was astonished to findthat he didn't get cold chills at the thought. "Let's catch him!"

  Scotty's reply was to take off in a racing start toward the blue light.Rick had to stretch his legs to catch up, and saw the ghost begin itsretreat again, always maintaining the distance between itself and theboys. It danced in the air like a will-o'-the-wisp, as though invitingthe boys to hurry.

  The pace was slower now, because the relatively smooth surface of thefield had been left behind and the course led through bunch grass withan occasional clump of brambles. The ghost danced along the creek bank.Whatever might be under the light was constantly invisible against thefringe of trees. Then it vanished among the trees for a moment, only toreappear.

  Rick thought grimly that it was going to be a long chase. Once hestopped in his tracks and whispered to Scotty to do the same. Bothlistened, but there was no sound other than the normal night noises.Rick knew their own passage had been noisy, marked by the crunching ofdry bunch grass, the crack of an occasional small twig of brush, andother sounds of hurrying feet, but the ghost moved with the silence ofa--well, a ghost!

  In spite of himself Rick felt a moment's chill, then he pressed his lipstightly together and hurried on. It was no ghost, he told himself. _Itwas no ghost!_ Someone was carrying a light, that was all. Ghosts do notcarry lights.

  The chase led into the trees, and onto rising ground. There were rockyoutcroppings now, and Rick knew they had reached the foothills. Thecreek cut its way through the foothills for a short distance, thenturned to follow an easier path on its way to the sea.

  The underbrush was thicker now. This was typical Virginia second-growthforest, full of low brush and creepers. Rick knew it only by feel,however, because it was so dark he could only sense the presence oftrees before crashing into them. The blue light vanished periodicallybehind trees, only to reappear again as though urging them on.

  Then, as they broke into a denser thicket, the light vanishedcompletely. Scotty muttered under his breath. Rick peered through theblackness eagerly, taking deep breaths. He had thought they wereactually gaining for a moment.

  He stood still, his chest heaving. Scotty stopped beside him. There wasno sound. Even the night noises of the forest had ceased. There was aweird feeling of hollowness in the air, as though they stood in somegreat cavern. Rick whispered, "Where did it go?"

  "Don't know," came Scotty's breathless reply. "Keep an eye out while Itie my shoe."

  Rick sucked in his breath. The blue light! It was closer, tantalizinglyclose. He suddenly realized he stood on the edge of a clearing, and theblue light hovered on the opposite edge. It danced mockingly.

  "Come on!" Rick bounded away from Scotty, and crashed through a dozenfeet of underbrush, intent on the light. It wasn't moving! It hovered,as though waiting. For an instant his determination faltered. One thingto chase an object, another to have it wait for you!

  He charged on, and his foot slid on soft dirt. He lost balance and hisarms flailed to regain his footing, too late! He slid, his back strikingpainfully as he flew into blackness!

  Rick fell, turning slowly through the air. He had time for one briefyell of fear and warning before the wind was smashed out of him. Heplunged deep into icy water and struggled frantically as he plummetedinto the depths.

  It seemed to Rick as though he plunged downward for an eternity. He hadno breath; it had been slammed out of him from impact with the water.But he resisted the terrible temptation to breathe and drove his armsdownward to check his plunge. In a few seconds he was shooting to thesurface again, his chest an agony from lack of air. His arms and legsworked as he literally clawed his way to the air once more, and he shothigh into the blessed atmosphere as he broke the surface.

  Rick floated, lying on his back, breathing deeply and grateful just tobe alive. He heard Scotty calling his name, but had to wait for severalbreaths before he could manage a weak yell.

  He didn't know what had happened, except for one clear thing: they hadbeen mousetrapped. The ghost had lured them on, waiting until the pitwas reached before pausing in flight to give them a chance to catch up.And the chance had turned out to be the trap.

  "Rick! Can you hear me?"

  "I hear you." Scotty seemed terribly far away. Then Rick saw hisfriend's silhouette, as a dark shape against the lesser darkness of thesky. At a guess Scotty was fifty feet up.

  "Hang on while I get a light!"

  Rick wondered if his pal was going all the way back to get one of theflashlights they had left behind in the precipitous chase. He wasn'tworried about his ability to stay afloat.

  He had his breath back somewhat now, so he paddled slowly to a point onthe wall of the pit under Scotty's position. He bumped gently into rockand felt with his hands while treading water. The rock surface wasrough, but the roughness was regular, the wall flat. Then his fingersfelt a groove and his mind created the image to match it. A drill hole!He was in a quarry!

  It made sense, Rick thought. This was good limestone country. The ghosthad simply led them to an abandoned limestone quarry, and he hadobligingly fallen in! A miracle he hadn't broken his neck.

  Yellow light cut the darkne
ss and he looked up. Scotty apparently didn'tintend to be caught without matches again, for in a moment he appeared,a torch of dry twigs in his hand. It blazed brightly. Scotty placed iton the quarry's lip and added more fuel. The flames mounted higher asthe wood caught. Only when the flames were high enough to see by didScotty look down.

  "See a way up, Rick?"

  _"See a way up, Rick?" Scotty called_]

  Rick was already searching. On the side to the right of where he hadfallen in was a shelf about two feet above the water. It led to anothershelf. He swam for it and pulled himself out, shaking water from hisclothes. The second shelf was easily reached, but then he was stuck. Itwas easily twenty feet to the rim. The flickering light showed a sheerwall that could not be climbed without a rope.

  Scotty could see the problem, too. "I guess it's us for a rope. I'm sureglad you didn't fall on that side."

  "Amen." Where Rick had fallen was a sheer drop into the water. On anyother side he would have landed on a shelf.

  "Will you be okay?" Scotty asked. "I'll leave the fire burning."

  "Take off," Rick replied. "I'm happy as a cliff swallow on my littleshelf. Don't be long."

  "Okay." Scotty was gone, leaving only the yellow glow of the fire forcompany.

  Unless, Rick thought, the Blue Ghost was hovering nearby, snickering atthe success of his efforts.

  Thankful that it was a warm night, he removed his garments one at a timeand wrung the water from them. The surface of the quarry pool caught theyellow light of the waning fire as he poured water from his shoes. Hewas very thoughtful. What was the meaning of the night's events?

  His wringing out finished and his damp clothes back on, he sat down onthe limestone shelf to be as comfortable as possible while waiting.

  He had set out at top speed to catch a ghost, but the ghost had caughtRichard Brant. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he was sure it meantsomething. He shivered, as much from reaction as the dampness. Maybetime would tell.