The Boy Land Boomer | Page 3

Delaney to draw back and tumble to the bottom of her house on wheels
in terror.
"It's the Banshee----" she began, when Dick interrupted her.
"It's Pumpkin Bill. I'd know his voice a mile off," he declared.
"Somebody ought to send him back to where he belongs. Creation,
what a racket!"
Nearer and nearer came the voice, rising and falling with the wind. The
shrill shrieking penetrated to every wagon, and head after head was
thrust out of the canvases to see what it meant. In another minute
Pumpkin Bill, the dunce of the boomer's camp, "a nobody from
nowhar," to use Cal Clemmer's words, came rushing along, hatless and
with his wild eyes fairly starting from their sockets.
"Save me! a ghost!" he yelled, swinging his hands over his head. "A
ghost full of blood! Oh, oh! I'm a dead boy! I know I am! Stop him

from following me!"
"Pumpkin!" ejaculated Dick, striding up and catching the fleeing lad by
the arm. "Hold on; what's this racket about?"
The dunce paused, then stood stock still, his mouth opening to its
widest extent. He was far from bright, and it took him several seconds
to put into words what was passing in his mind.
"About, about?" he repeated. "Dick Arbuckle! Oh, dear me! I've seen
your father's ghost!"
"Pumpkin!"
"Yes, I did. Hope to die if I didn't. I was just coming to camp from
town. Some men kept me, and made me sing and dance for them--you
know how I can sing--tra-la-la-da-do-da-bum! They promised me a
dollar, but didn't give it to me. I was running to get out of the wet when
I plumped into something fearful--a ghost! Your father, covered with
blood, and groaning and moaning, 'Robbed, robbed; almost murdered!'
That's what the ghost said, and he caught me by the hand. See, the
blood is there yet, even though I did try to wash it off in the rain. Oh,
Dick, what does it mean?"
"It means something awful has happened, Pumpkin, if your story is
true----"
"Hope to die if it ain't," and the dunce crossed his heart several times.
Suddenly, to keep up his courage, he burst into a wild snatch of song:
"A big baboon Glared at the moon, And sang la-la-la-dum! 'Come
down to me And I will be Your lardy-dardy----'"
"Stop it, Pumpkin," interrupted Dick. "Come along with me."
"To where?"
"To where you saw my father."

"Not for a million dollars--not for a million million!" cried the
half-witted boy. "It wasn't your father; it was a ghost, all covered with
blood!" and he shrank back under the Delaney wagon.
"It was my father, Pumpkin; I am sure of it. He is missing, and
something has happened to him. Perhaps he fell and hurt himself.
Come on."
The dunce stopped short and stared.
"Missing, is he? Then it wasn't a ghost. La-la-dum! What a joke. Will
you go along, too?"
"Of course."
"And take a pistol?"
"Yes."
"Poor mon, Oi thrust he is not very much hurted," broke in Rosy
Delaney, who had been a close listener to the foregoing. "If he is, Dick
Arbuckle, bring him here, an' it's Rosy Delaney will nurse him wid th'
best of care."
As has been said, many had heard Pumpkin Bill's wild cries, but now
that he had quieted down these boomers returned to their couches,
grumbling that the half-witted lad should thus be allowed to disturb
their rest.
In a minute Dick Arbuckle and Pumpkin were hurrying along the road
the dunce had previously traveled. The rain was letting up a bit, and the
smoky lantern lit up the surroundings for a circle thirty feet in diameter.
"Here is where I met him," said Pumpkin, coming to a halt near the
edge of a small stream. "There's the hat he knocked off my head." He
picked it up. "Oh, dear me! covered with blood! Did you ever see the
like?"
Dick was more disturbed than ever.

"Which way did he go?"
"I don't know."
"Didn't you notice at all, Pumpkin? Try to think."
"Nary a notice. I ran, that's all. It looked like a bloody ghost. I'll dream
about it, I know I will."
To this Dick did not answer. Getting down on his knees in the wet he
examined the trail by the lantern's rays. The footsteps which he thought
must be those of his father led around a bend in the stream and up a
series of rocks covered with moss and dirt. With his heart thumping
violently under his jacket he followed the footprints until the very
summit of the rocks was gained. Then he let out a groan of anguish.
And not without cause. Beyond the summit was a dark opening fifteen
feet wide, a hundred or more feet long