“What man is prowling around your camp?” the sheriff demanded.
“That’s just what we would like to know,” responded the senior captain. “Not long ago a man stampeded our horses and last night he left a warning in our tree in our camp, telling us to keep our noses out of this ghost business. We found a heel print in the mud under that tree and we have followed it down into this town. That’s all.”
“Nobody has been anywhere near your camp,” the sheriff declared loudly. “You boys have been dreaming.”
“Is that so?” spoke up Jim, sharply. “Listen here, Mr. Sheriff, I saw that man stampede our horses. Whoever is hanging around the camp had better keep away from it and stay away.”
“What’ll you do if he doesn’t stay away?” scoffed the sheriff.
“We’ll do what you should have done long ago,” snapped Don. “We’ll find him and send him to a responsible officer of the law to take care of. You are supposed to be a sheriff here, keeping law and order, and yet a silly ghost terrifies the community for years and you aren’t able to run him down. We’re neither too stupid nor too lazy to do it and if the ghost or any of his friends are here in this crowd I’m telling you plainly that we’re going to nail him and nail him hard!”
There was an awed rustle in the crowd. The sheriff turned purple with wrath. He shook a long and bony finger at the cadets.
“You imitation soldiers, listen to me,” he roared. “I’m warning you to keep your nose out of affairs on this Ridge! I’m the sheriff here and what I say goes. If I catch you meddling around with anything again I’ll lock you up so fast you won’t know what hit you. You mind your own business about people and things at Rustling Ridge, do you get me?”
“As far as people on the Ridge go, we do get you,” retorted Jordan. “But not where it concerns this ghost who has been coming into our camp at night. If he insists upon visiting us, then it is our business to try to find him. That’s all there is to that.”
Realizing that there was no use in arguing further the boys left.