In the camp of the Black Rider

by Capwell Wyckoff

“I guess we had better divide into the same squads that we had before,” said Ted. “Buck, suppose your squad tries to catch the one coming from the back of the tent and my squad will try and run down the fellow sneaking along the trees in front. But let’s see what they are up to first.”

“I suppose they think they’re going to appear at the door of a tent and holler ‘Boo!’ to scare us!” grumbled Buck.

Those of the boys who had slipped off their shoes now hastily put them on again, happy and a bit nervous at the prospect of the coming action. All of them still watched the two creeping figures below as they drew nearer the tents.

“I guess they are going to meet in front of the tents and exchange signals,” commented Buck, noting that the two men were drawing together.

And at that moment they did meet, but the boys were surprised by the result.

The ghost from the back of the tents stepped out into the full glow of the moon and they saw that his costume was slightly different than the one which the ghost in the front of the camp wore. There was no hood on the top of the second spirit’s costume, but he had a cloth wound around his head. At the same time the other ghost stepped from the shelter of the last tree and came face to face with the brother apparition.

But there was no exchange of signals, no friendly whispering of details. For a moment the two ghosts stood staring at each other, seeming to shrink within their shrouds and then the ghost from the creek tossed his arms wildly to the sky, and uttering a wild yelp, fled at top speed toward the creek from which it had come. The second ghost stood perfectly still for a moment and then shot forward, hot on the trail of the other one.

While the astonished boys watched with bulging eyes and open mouths the first ghost reached the creek and jumped wildly for the stones upon which he had crossed. He missed the first one and plunged forward on his knees into a half foot of water, to the accompaniment of a tremendous thrashing and splashing. The second ghost reached the edge of the creek just as the first ghost regained his feet and made a sweeping clutch at his shroud. There was a ripping sound and the ghost uniform split from top to bottom, but the ghost himself did not stop going. Without a backward glance he ran across the rocks and took to the woods. His pursuer, disdaining the rocks, waded stormily in the brook and took up the chase on the other side.

And now the boys in the maple grove gave way to peals of laughter which were surely heard by the two running ghosts. For a moment they had been paralyzed by the strange spectacle below them, and then the humor had struck them as the first ghost streaked his way across the camp pursued by the irate second sheeted figure. The fall into the creek and the subsequent splashing chase caused them to laugh so hard that they were weak. In their ghostly readings and thoughts they had regarded spirits, ghosts and goblins as dignified creatures, and the sight of two of them running a frantic race appealed to their senses of humor.

Both ghosts had disappeared from sight as they hurried down into the camp and went as far as the creek, chatting and laughing over the unexpected turn of events. The rate of speed employed by both night prowlers made them forget any thought that they may have had in regard to chasing after them and they simply hastened to the brook to see if they could hear or see anything more of the two ghosts who had generously provided them with an evening’s entertainment, but all was profoundly quiet.