The Mystery of the Galloping Ghost

about. I mean, we are their guests, and it wouldn’t be
polite not to mention a trespasser.”
    Trixie
had hoped that the implied threat would convince Wilhelmina to tell the truth.
Instead, the woman drew herself up in a sudden flash of defiance. “I am not
trespassing!” she said. “I am on state property—a state forest, in fact, whose
border follows this river for another ten miles.”
    Wilhelmina
had a soft, clear voice. She sounded well educated, Trixie thought.
    “Maybe
we wouldn’t have to tell Mr. and Mrs. Murrow, then,” Honey said. Tactfully,
politely, she was trying to get Wilhelmina to trust her and tell the truth.
    But she doesn’t believe that Wilhelmina’s a
bird-watcher any more than I do, Trixie told herself.
    Aloud,
Trixie said, “I’d rather not have to tell them. Bill would probably just tease
me about my vivid imagination, after what I saw last night.”
    Now
Wilhelmina grew interested. “What did you see last night?” she asked, wrinkling
up her nose to keep her glasses from sliding.
    “Oh,
a man on a horse, that’s all,” Trixie said calmly. Realizing that that was not
the sign of a “vivid imagination,” she added, “That’s all it turned out to be.
At the time it seemed kind of, well—”
    “Ghostly?”
Wilhelmina prompted.
    “Well—”
Trixie shrugged helplessly. Having spent the entire day convincing herself that
the horseman she’d seen was only old Gus, she found it hard to shift back to
her original theory.
    Wilhelmina
abruptly turned away from Trixie and Honey. She paced a few steps forward, then turned again to face the girls. Her lips were pressed
resolutely together.
    “My
name is Wilhelmina James,” she said. She was starting from the very beginning,
and this time it seemed she was going to tell the truth. “I am a senior associate
at the Institute for Phenomenological Research. Have you ever heard of us?”
    Honey
shook her head. Trixie stumbled on the long and unfamiliar word. “ Phenom — phenom — What ?”
    “Phenomenological,”
Wilhelmina repeated slowly. “Some people prefer the term ‘ para -psychological.’
We at the institute feel that the term is a biased and inaccurate one. It
suggests a conclusion rather than maintaining open-mindedness.”
    Trixie’s
jaw dropped.
    “Oh,
dear—was I being too technical?” Wilhelmina asked. “It’s so difficult to be
both clear and accurate. You see, we investigate what people commonly—and
inaccurately— call ‘ghosts.’ ” She said the word as if it pained her.
    “Ghosts!” Trixie and Honey echoed. Wilhelmina looked at them
disdainfully. “There, you see? People get so excited over the term, and really,
what does it mean? Hauntings , apparitions,
poltergeists, even simple telepathic incidents—all are lumped into one foolish
little word.” Seeing that she was again sounding too technical, she paused briefly.
Then she said, “ ‘Ghost’ is a word like ‘vegetable.’ ”
She pronounced all four syllables of the word. “It has so many possible
meanings that it is meaningless. I say ‘vegetable’ meaning carrot, and you
think of a potato. We’ve just had a misunderstanding. As a result, it’s best to
avoid the general word when the specific one is needed. Do you understand?”
    “You
mean there’s more than one kind of ghost?” Trixie ventured.
    Wilhelmina
sighed. “Close enough,” she said. “At least you aren’t laughing at me, as a lot
of people do.”
    “Are
you here watching for a ghost, uh, phenomenon?” Honey asked.
    “I
am indeed,” Wilhelmina said firmly. “I may as well take you into my confidence,
since my fate is now in your hands. Well, not my fate exactly, but the fate of my summer research project. I
would prefer not to endanger it.”
    “What
is your project?” Trixie asked, impatient with Wilhelmina’s constant quest for
precision.
    “I
am investigating a local and long-reported phenomenon called the Galloping
Ghost,” Wilhelmina said.
    “Then
it is for real,” Trixie
breathed.
    “Oh,
it’s far too early to judge the reality of the phenomenon,” Wilhelmina began.
Then she halted and peered at Trixie. “Are you implying that you’ve heard of
this phenomenon?” she asked.
    Trixie
nodded. “Just a couple of hours ago.” Briefly, she
told Wilhelmina about the mysterious horseman, old Gus, and Bill’s reference to
the Galloping Ghost.
    “Interesting,”
Wilhelmina said. “It’s good to know that the legend is still alive.