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Updated: May 21, 2025
Miller is not fond of Mr. Collins." "I'm going to join the anti-Collins club as soon as we get back. Look, druggists know everything about their town. Let's see if we can find out if the Frostola man is new." Rick opened the screen door and they went into a drugstore that had not changed substantially for half a century, except for the addition of modern sales items.
"Someone else was the ghost the first night," Rick remembered, "because the Frostola man was watching." "Good thing we don't have to prove any of this," Scotty concluded. "The FBI is on the job. They'll get the proof." "But we're the ones who'll bury the ghost for good," Rick promised. Death of a Ghost Dr.
They went across the hilltop with great strides, broke into the open beyond the cornfield, dodged thorns, and panted to a stop just above the opening of the second tunnel. The fast sprint had gotten them there in time. The Frostola man spurted from the tunnel as though a real ghost was after him.
He traveled to the mine area when no customers could be found there. He was curious about a cement bag. He didn't fit the character of an ice-cream route man. Rick headed straight for the picnic ground. There was no sign of the Frostola scooter, which meant the man had left right behind them, otherwise they would have met him on the road on the return trip.
The man got off the seat and Rick saw that he was over six feet tall, and built like a sapling. The boy also saw that he wasn't as young as he at first appeared. That was odd, because the peddlers on scooters were usually either very young or old. The Frostola man opened the seat box and the boys looked in, at neat stacks of ice cream packaged in various ways.
Taylor, the FBI agent, removed the apparatus from his head; Rick recognized him in the blue glow. "We found your other head underneath the ice cream in your scooter," he said conversationally. "In the false bottom. We also found your Geiger counter. Any comments?" The Frostola man had recovered somewhat from the shock of his capture. "What can I say?" he demanded.
"There's a man who thinks it is," Scotty replied. Rick looked to where his pal pointed. The Frostola man was approaching on his scooter. The sound of the little motor was just audible, and Rick's first impulse was to duck, but Scotty said, "Too late. He saw us just as we saw him. Let's walk down to the road and make it casual."
His wringing out finished and his damp clothes back on, he sat down on the 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 caught Richard Brant. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he was sure it meant something. He shivered, as much from reaction as the dampness. Maybe time would tell. The Frostola Man
Miller didn't really want to hold the party at the mine area because of the ghost, but had no other place large enough and he had to give the party for professional reasons; his scientific friends had long wanted to see his Virginia home. The farmer made sure the Frostola man heard the story. There was only one final step necessary on the day of the big event.
Although Rick had never heard of Frostola, it was immediately clear that this was an ice-cream vendor, of the kind that appears in swarms in warm weather with ringing bells and tooting horns, in trucks, on scooters, and even on bicycles. The Frostola man gave them a cheery wave and tilted his white cap to the back of his head. "Hi! Where's the crowd?" "We're it," Scotty answered.
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