While the other two went off to play ball Jim rounded up his five companions and they set off on horseback for the farmhouses that lay scattered over the Ridge. Two of the farms they passed did not look very promising but at last they came to a neat-looking one which had a large sign on the front fence. This sign announced that chickens, eggs and butter were on sale and into this yard the six cavalrymen turned their horses. An uproar of barking dogs announced their presence and a farmer appeared, scanning their uniforms with great interest. To him Jim explained their errand.
The farmer was more than pleased and hastened to bring out several dozen fresh eggs and a dozen pounds of butter. In the meantime some children and two farmhands had gathered about the soldiers, staring at them curiously. When the supplies had been paid for Jim asked the farmer to come to camp and confer with the colonel concerning future food supplies. 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, and they took an instant liking to him. He was a bright and sturdy little boy, and some of the cadets invited him to visit the camp, an invitation which he willingly accepted.
Just before they rode off the farmer spoke to Jim. “Ain’t see nothing of the ghost, have you?” he asked.
Jim shook his head. “No. Have you one?”
The farmer nodded solemnly. “Haven’t you heard about the ghost of Rustling 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 to death. 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 and look at him.”