4 Strange Tales from the Ridge
Three shots sounded from the east side of the camp. Almost on top ofthem three shots sounded from a point close by.
With the first shots the three friends stirred and woke up, listeningwhile half asleep. But with the second three shots they rose up in theirbeds, wide awake.
Close at hand the sound of rapidly turning wheels reached their ears,accompanied by the beat of horses’ hoofs. Something metallic bumped andbanged. A voice called out: “Corporal of the guard! Post Number Three!”
The boys jumped from their cots with one accord, reaching for theirclothes.
“Something wrong with the sentries,” cried Don.
“Who is at Number Three post?” asked Jim.
“Anderson,” answered Terry, fumbling with his shoes.
The camp was in motion. Lights flashed at various points and voicessounded. Past the tent went running feet. But the bugle did not sound,so they knew that it was not a fire or any similar emergency.
“I’m ready. How about you two?” Don called.
“Right with you,” was the response and the three soldiers burst out ofthe tent.
A central fire was burning and at this point the colonel was standing,half-clad and with mussed-up hair, his eyes heavy with sleep. The othercadets were clustering around him there, and the sentries werestraggling in to that center. Just as the three boys reached the spotthe sentries from Number Three and Number Four posts came up andsaluted.
Number Three post was at a point up the Ridge and Number Four was rightat the edge of camp. The shots from Number Four had followed so closelyto those from Number Three that they knew the same thing had caused bothsignals.
“Sentries to report, sir,” announced the corporal of the guard,saluting.
The colonel saluted and faced the sentries. “Make your report,gentlemen,” he ordered.
Anderson, from Number Three post spoke up. “While patrolling my post Iheard a wagon coming along that dirt road just above the camp on theRidge. It appeared to be coming at a great rate of speed and just as itreached a point above my post it left the road and cut right downthrough the bushes toward me. It had a man and a boy in it and Ichallenged them, but without slacking speed a single bit the wagon toreright past me toward the camp. I then fired the shots to warn the campand the next sentry.”
“Very good,” nodded the colonel. “Mr. Simms?”
“I heard the shots, though I had heard the thrashing of the wagonpreviously,” spoke up the second sentry. “I turned to find the wagonbearing down on me, swinging from side to side, and with a man and boyhanging onto the seat. It cut straight across the lower end of the campgrounds, down the slope and across the drill grounds. I fired to bearout Mr. Anderson.”
“Very good, gentlemen,” said the colonel, with a puzzled frown on hisforehead. In the momentary silence that followed they could hear themysterious wagon bumping and banging across the country, apparently attop speed.
Now that the official reports had been given the talk became general.The incident was extremely puzzling. Both sentries remarked that the manand boy had been huddled together much as though pretty badlyfrightened, and the sight of the cadets with guns had not seemed toreassure them any. Neither sentry had been able to see what had been inthe wagon because it had passed them in too great a hurry, but from thesound they judged the rattling was caused by pots and pans. A singlehorse had pulled the cart.
“Strangest thing I ever heard of,” murmured the new senior captain,Henry Jordan.
“I can’t figure out why the party in the wagon left the dirt road,” saidthe colonel to Major Rhodes, the drill instructor. “That road runsparallel with the Ridge and works gradually down to the level of thecountryside. For some reason or other that pair in the wagon wanted toget off the Ridge and out on the open meadow.”
“It is possible that they were fleeing from some crime,” suggestedRhodes.
“True enough,” assented the colonel. “And when they saw the cadets thevision didn’t reassure them any. Well, it goes beyond my understanding.”He turned once more to the attentive soldiers. “Corporal of the guard,restation the sentries. Everyone back to his bed.”
The sentries were reposted and the other cadets straggled back to theircots. Once in their tent Jim looked at his watch.
“A quarter past three,” he announced. “Quite an uncanny hour out here inthe country. I’ll bet there is something behind that wild wagon flight.”
“Funny they should cut right across the camp,” remarked Don.
“I agree with Rhodes that those fellows were probably fleeing fromsomething like a crime,” advanced Terry.
“That may be the explanation,” agreed Don. “I can’t think of any otherreason for such a wild flight. Well, me for some more sleep.”
The rest of that night was quiet and in the morning the cadets discussedthe event further. The details of the day then took up all of theirattention and the night adventure was pushed from their minds.
Late in the afternoon Don and Terry hastened into the tent to get theirbaseball gloves. Jim was in the tent at the time.
“Going to play some ball?” Terry hailed.
Jim shook his head. “I’m out of luck today,” he announced. “Six of ushave to go to a near-by farmhouse and buy some eggs and butter. Thecolonel told me to try and strike a bargain with a farmer for eggs,butter, milk and meat.”
“Don’t forget to wait for your change after you pay the farmer!” advisedTerry.
“Go chase yourself!” flung back Jim. “I guess I know enough for that.”
While the other two went off to play ball Jim rounded up his fivecompanions and they set off on horseback for the farmhouses that layscattered over the Ridge. Two of the farms they passed did not look verypromising but at last they came to a neat-looking one which had a largesign on the front fence. This sign announced that chickens, eggs andbutter were on sale and into this yard the six cavalrymen turned theirhorses. An uproar of barking dogs announced their presence and a farmerappeared, scanning their uniforms with great interest. To him Jimexplained their errand.
The farmer was more than pleased and hastened to bring out several dozenfresh eggs and a dozen pounds of butter. In the meantime some childrenand two farmhands had gathered about the soldiers, staring at themcuriously. When the supplies had been paid for Jim asked the farmer tocome to camp and confer with the colonel concerning future foodsupplies. The farmer was delighted beyond words.
“You bet your boots I’ll come down,” he cried. “Business is mighty poor,and this is a big boost to me. My name’s Carson.”
A little boy named Jimmie was particularly interested in the cadets, andthey took an instant liking to him. He was a bright and sturdy littleboy, and some of the cadets invited him to visit the camp, an invitationwhich he willingly accepted.
Just before they rode off the farmer spoke to Jim. “Ain’t see nothing ofthe ghost, have you?” he asked.
Jim shook his head. “No. Have you one?”
The farmer nodded solemnly. “Haven’t you heard about the ghost ofRustling Ridge?” he asked.
“No, we haven’t,” laughed Lieutenant Thompson.
“There is a sure-enough ghost that prowls this Ridge,” said the farmer,gravely. “Every once in a while it walks and scares people half todeath. More than one family’s up and moved away just on account of him.”
“So far we haven’t been lucky enough to see him,” returned Jim,distributing the packages. “If we do, we’ll try and take him apart andlook at him.”
The farmer shook his head. “Very bad business, that ghost. Look out hedoesn’t turn up in your camp some night.”
With more jests about the ghost the cadets swung out of the yard andheaded back toward camp, carrying their packages carefully.
“So there is a ghost on the Ridge, is there?” Thompson said to Jim.
“I’m not greatly surprised,” Jim said. “Most o
f these country placeshave room for at least one good ghost. They wouldn’t be quite happy ifthey didn’t.”
The colonel was pleased at their success and planned to buy more thingsfrom the farmer in the future. The provisions, with the exception of thecanned goods which they had brought with them from school, had been allused up, for the invigorating outdoor life gave all the cadets ravenousappetites.
The cadets had been asleep perhaps two hours that night when a medley ofshots rang out from post Number One, deep in the woods. As on theprevious night the three boys hopped out of bed immediately.
“Golly, this is getting to be an epidemic,” snorted Terry.
“But this must be something different,” remarked Don. “I don’t hear anywagon crashing through the bushes.”
“There aren’t any more shots, either,” mentioned Jim.
Once outside the corporal of the guard brought in Douglas from the post.The colonel asked for a report.
“While standing at my post I saw a white shape pass me about ten yardsaway!” was Harry’s startling statement. “I challenged it, but it justglided on past me. At my shots it flashed into the trees and was gone. Iwas unable to find any trace of it.”
“A shape, Mr. Douglas?” frowned the colonel. “What sort of a shape?”
“Well, it looked like someone in a sheet,” explained Douglas. “Icouldn’t see any head on the object, and it seemed to glide along theground!”
“Hmm, our ghost of the Ridge!” said Jim to Thompson.
“What was that, Mr. Mercer?” the colonel cried, alertly.
Jim explained the story which the farmer had told to them thatafternoon. “We didn’t say anything about it, because we put it down fora lot of nonsense,” he wound up.
“I see,” replied the colonel. “Captains and lieutenants go to postNumber One and look around.”
The others waited a long half-hour until the officers came back. Therewas no news.
“We found no traces of anything,” Senior Captain Jordan reported.
Puzzled over the events of the past two nights the colonel ordered theboys back to bed. It was a long time before a good many of them fellasleep. In their own tent the three pals talked quietly of thesituation, but could not puzzle it out.
“If this business doesn’t stop pretty soon,” Terry concluded the talk,“we won’t get enough sleep on this camping trip!”