"I never heard of it, and what Bill Slatterly don't know ain't
worth knowin'. I'm Bill Slatterly," he added, lest there be some doubt
on that score.

"Isn't there some sort of a landmark around here shaped like a great
stone head?" went on Tom, after some unimportant questions. "Seems to me
I've heard of that."

"Nary a one," answered Mr. Slatterly. "No stone heads, and no Phantom
Mountains--nary a one.

"Who says there ain't no Phantom Mountains?" demanded an elderly miner,
who had been dozing in one corner of the room, but who was awakened by
Slatterly's loud voice. "Who says so?"

"I do," answered the one who claimed to know everything.

"Then you're wrong!" Tom's heart commenced beating faster than usual.

"Do you mean to say you've seen Phantom Mountain, Jed Nugg?" demanded
Slatterly.

"No, I ain't exactly seen it, an' I don't want to, but there is such
a place, about sixty mile from here. Folks says it's haunted, and them
sort of places I steer clear from."

"Can you tell me about it?" asked Mr. Jenks, eagerly. "I am interested
in such things."

"I can't tell you much about it," was the reply, "and I wouldn't git too
interested, if I was you. It might not be healthy. All I know is that
one time my partner and I were in hard luck. We got grub-staked, and
went out prospectin'. We strayed into a wild part of the country about
sixty mile from here, and one night we camped on a mountain--a wild,
desolate place it was too."

The miner stopped, and began leisurely filling his pipe.

"Well?" asked Tom, trying not to let his voice sound too eager.

"Well, that was Phantom Mountain."

The miner seemed to have finished his story.

"Is that all?" asked Mr. Jenks. "How did you know it was Phantom
Mountain?"

"'Cause we seen the ghost--my partner and I--that's why!" exclaimed the
man, puffing on his pipe. "As I said, we was campin' there, and 'long
about midnight we seen somethin' tall and white, and all shimmerin',
with a sort of yellow fire, slidin' down the side of the mountain It
made straight for our camp."

"Huh! Guess you run, didn't you, Jed?" asked Bill Slatterly.

"Course we did. You'd a run too, if you seen a ghost comm' at you, an'
firm' a gun."

"Ghosts can't fire guns!" declared Bill. "I guess you dreamed it, Jed."

"Ghosts can't fire guns, eh? That's all you know about it. This one did,
and to prove I didn't dream it, there was a bullet hole in my hat next
mornin'. I could prove it, too,