A shimmering ghost walks by night with his spectral henchmen in the shadow of an old deserted lead mine. Is it the phantom ghost of a Union captain killed so long ago in the days of the Civil War--or is it a fraud? At the urgent request of his sister Barby, Rick Brant and his sidekick Scotty fly down to the sleepy Virginia town from the Spindrift Scientific Foundation to see for themselves the eerie apparition at Old Mine Campground.
The house itself had once been a large farmhouse. The Millers had remodeled it, keeping the charm of the old while adding the convenience of the new. Rick felt at home right away, and he saw that Scotty did, too.
Over an excellent lunch of charcoal-broiled hamburgers, salad, and iced tea, Dr. Miller asked, "Who's going to tell the tale?"
Both girls started talking at once. Mrs. Miller, an attractive, stylish woman, raised her hands. "Please! Jan, suppose you start with the history of the ghost. Then, Barby, you take over and tell what we saw the other night."
"All right, Mother," Jan began. "The ghost isn't new, you see. We've had a blue ghost here for centuries!"
Rick's eyebrows went up. "A blue ghost?"
"Yes. You'll see why in a moment. Anyway, we all knew about the ghost, sort of, and some people were supposed to have seen it. Only it was the kind of story where you never met anyone who had actually seen the ghost. There were only people who knew peo