“And while you’re on the ramble, just drop over to the State Street Station and see if you can find the picture of a crook with a cross branded on his temple. Old G.G. suggested that.
“But I’ll tell you what I am beginning to think of that Galloping Ghost! I think he’s a fake! Or even worse, a crook that’s giving us a bum steer, throwing us off the trail. I’ve more than half a notion to burn every other love letter he sends us before I read it.
“Because, look!” Once more he was pacing the floor. “If an honest fellow was wearing a sheet and posing as a ghost, if he had some real information about a case like this—one that interests the whole country—why wouldn’t he let us in on his secret, come right round in his street clothes and tell us his story? What I say is—”
He broke straight off to stare at the door. Some one had begun rattling it violently.
“Johnny, see who’s there.”
CHAPTER XXI
THE SHOE
Red Rodgers and Berley Todd lost no time in making their way back to the scout’s cabin. If those men who blinded and shot the moose were the kidnapers then they were safest under the protection of Ed’s “shootin’ irons.”
“Those men,” Ed said, when he had heard their story, “more’n likely were not your kidnapers at all. Moose hunters, more’n likely.”
“Moose hunters!” Berley Todd exploded. “You’re not allowed to kill a moose on Isle Royale!”
“Who said you were?” Ed threw back his head and laughed. “They’re not allowed to kidnap star football players and little half-portions like you, but here you are all the same!