Mrs. Miller and Jan fried eggs and
bacon and made toast for their breakfast. Barby listened quietly, but if
Rick had any idea she would be convinced, he was mistaken. When the
recital ended she pointed out, "There's no reason why mortals shouldn't
take advantage of a ghost. You still haven't proved that the ghost at
the mine isn't real, or how the cold almost knocked you out last night."

"True," Rick had to admit. "We're not making much progress there."

Over breakfast Dr. Miller told them about the Hilleboes. "They were one
of the big families in this vicinity two or three decades ago. They had
the biggest house in this part of Virginia, but it burned down about
twenty years ago and the kids moved away. There is no house on their
land now. They rent some of the land to tenants. Carleton Hilleboe is
the eldest son. He's in a business of some kind in Washington. He either
controls or owns the property, I'm not sure which."

"Including the upland cornfield above the mine?" Rick asked.

"Yes, and all the property to the east of ours for a mile or two."

"Could he be the mysterious buyer Collins is acting for?" Rick asked.

"It's possible, although why he would want our share of the mine and the
field opposite is beyond me. I think a talk with Collins is in order. If
you two want to come to town with me, I think I'll beard him in his den.
I've no intention of selling, but I won't tell him that."

On the way to town the boys agreed it would be best for Dr. Miller to
talk with Collins alone. He obviously didn't like young people--at least
them--and he would be more apt to confide in Dr. Miller if the scientist
interviewed him alone.

The scientist agreed. "Why don't you two wait in the drugstore? You can
have a coke or something."

Dr. Miller parked the car in front of Collins' house and the boys
crossed the street to the drugstore. Although it was early in the day,
both ordered a dish of ice cream. They were eating it and exchanging
small talk with the druggist when the Frostola scooter pulled up
outside. Both tensed as the Frostola man came in, but he greeted them
impersonally and turned to the druggist. "I'd like a tin of aspirin,
please."

"That infected hangnail still bothering you?" the druggist asked
sympathetically.

"No, it's okay today," the peddler answered swiftly. "I've got a slight
headache, that's all."

He paid for the aspirin, accepted the druggist's offer of a glass of
water, downed two pills,