“Well, that’s an open declaration of war,” chuckled Terry, as they made their way back to camp. “I’m afraid we’ll have to buck that sheriff all the way along the line.”
“Yes, because it is even possible that he has something to do with the ghost business himself,” said Vench, seriously. “Anyway, he is mighty touchy about the whole thing.”
“That is because he considers himself the King of the Ridge, and it hurts his pride to see anyone else butt in,” said Jim. “Wonder what the colonel will say when we tell him?”
The colonel heard them in silence. Then he spoke to them quietly. “You did perfectly right, boys,” he said. “However, in the future steer clear of him. I don’t think he really amounts to much, but he may make things pretty unpleasant. In spite of him, we’ll get this ghost yet.”
The colonel accompanied the boys to the tent entrance when they left. Outside they found Lieutenant Thompson with a number of other cadets staring fixedly across the Ridge.
At the sound of the colonel’s voice Thompson turned his gaze to the headmaster and said, “Sir, I believe that someone is sending us a wigwag message from that hill!”
All eyes swung toward the distant hill. Sure enough, far up at the top two tiny white flags moved in the semaphore signal. Whoever was doing it knew the code and they stared in fascination as the flags moved steadily.
“He is repeating his message, boys,” said the colonel, breaking the silence that had settled upon them. “Be sure you get it this time.”
The camp was completely silent as the cadets strained their eyes to read the wigwag message. When it finished a burst of excitement and amazement followed. The mysterious flagman had signaled unmistakably: “Be on your guard. The Ghost walks tonight!”