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"Looks like I might as well go back to town, then. Want a lift? You can hang onto the step behind me." "No, thanks," Scotty replied. "We're staying just over the hill." The Frostola man turned his scooter wagon, gave them a wave, and went on his way back toward town. The boys watched until he drove out of sight. "There's an optimist," Scotty said.
So we go back, use the time covering up the break between the tunnels so no one will suspect we know, and let ourselves be rescued. The ghost continues to operate, and so do we! Then, when we have the answer, I have a great idea for unmasking the ghost." Scotty saw the reasoning at once. "Besides," he added, "if the Frostola man doesn't see us come out, he'll know the jig is up right now.
We scared him away, that's for sure. But what was he doing here?" Scotty considered. "If he wanted to reach the mine area without people noticing him, he could park his scooter here and walk over the hill." "He could," Rick agreed. "But why would he want to reach the mine area?" "Not to sell Frostola. That's for sure." "Uh-uh. My guess is he has to reset the Blue Ghost." "Reset it?" "Sure.
He hurried to the embankment where Scotty had found the cement bags, his pal close behind him. The girls had waited in the car. To his surprise there were no bags. Raw earth showed where they had been dug up. "What do you make of that?" he asked. Scotty shook his head. "I don't know. The Frostola man must have taken them, but I can't imagine why. Come on. Let's get out of here.
Over coffee he outlined the plan that had been stirring in his mind. "We don't know the motive for the ghost's appearance yet. We don't know how he appears, either. But unless I'm way off, the Frostola man has something to do with it." "I don't see how you can say that," Barby objected. "It's an assumption," Rick admitted. "But what else have we but assumptions? We assume the ghost is man-made.
Of course there's no telling about Uncle Frostola, either. He may be inside." That hadn't occurred to Rick. He thought it over, then shrugged. "We might as well take the chance. If he is inside, that proves something, and we're two to his one. Besides, it's late, and any sensible man is eating his supper. Come on."
The druggist, a wisp of a man, was friendly. They sat down at the marble-topped soda fountain and Rick asked, "Got any Frostola cream pies?" "Don't carry them," the druggist replied. "They're sold only by the route man." "I see you have a new man in this territory," Rick said casually. Bright eyes inspected him through rimless glasses. "Fairly new. Seems all right."
Of course he met Collins through Hilleboe." "Does the Frostola company know he exists?" "Sure. He wouldn't slip on a detail like that. He got the job without difficulty, since the route was vacant. If it hadn't been vacant, he'd have worked out some other kind of cover."
Soon as we find the source of that breeze, I'll identify our position within two feet." Scotty returned the grin. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!" The First Fact Rick said, "Hold it a minute. Which way do we go? If we assume the tunnel we came out of was fairly constant in direction, we should turn right to come out on the side of the hill where we saw the Frostola man a while ago.
"Eat all the ice cream you want," the Frostola man said grandly. "Be my guests. I won't be needing it." "Not for some years," Taylor agreed. "Come on, lads. Let's get back to the picnic." "We're with you," Rick said. "Lead the way." He chuckled suddenly. "It was a pretty good effect, wasn't it? The lab did a good job, and the Frostola man didn't see that a new chunk had been spliced in."
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