The Mystery of the Galloping Ghost

as if feeling a sudden chill.
    “There’s
no other explanation.”
    “We
have to tell Wilhelmina!”
    Trixie
shook her head. “I wouldn’t go out there tonight for anything. And we don’t
know where she is during the day. I guess we’ll just have to hold off till
tomorrow night.”
    “I
can hardly wait!” said Honey.



7 * The Deal Is Off!
     
    When Trixie and Honey woke up the
next day, they were convinced it would be the longest of their lives. But they
were soon distracted by the arrival of the familiar red pickup truck, followed
by a van with the name D & K Surveying printed on its side.
    Burke
strutted around the ranch yard as though he already owned it, giving
instructions to two surveyors he’d brought along.
    Trixie
and Honey both kept a resentful watch on Burke and a close one on Pat. The boy
was still getting along well with his father, but there was no telling what
might push him back over the edge.
    Everyone
tried to ignore Burke and the surveying crew, and to enjoy the horse-training
session. But it wasn’t easy. Later Burke drove off and the two surveyors stayed
behind. One went to a far corner of the property, and the other stood with a
telescope-like piece of equipment on a tripod. Regan had explained that the
object was called a “transit,” and would let the surveyors determine the exact
limit of the Murrows ’ property.
    “I
don’t know why he needs to know all that just to make an offer,” Trixie said
sullenly.
    Regan’s
lip curled in a rare look of contempt. “I don’t think he does. If you ask me,
it’s just a clever ploy. The Murrows will start
getting used to seeing Burke here and to the idea of selling. Then, when he
does make an offer, they’ll be more ready to accept it.” Trixie stared at
Regan, her blue eyes round with surprise and dismay. “Why, that’s awful! You
have to tell Bill, so he doesn’t fall for it.” Regan smiled broadly. “Where do
you think I heard the theory?” he asked. “No, you don’t have to worry about our
friend Bill. He knows how to take care of himself. If Burke tries too hard to
be clever, he could wind up being very sorry.”
    Just
then, they heard a shout from one of the surveyors. They turned to see him
picking up his tripod and running with it to the van. He got in, started up the
engine, and drove right across the ranch yard to pick up his partner. Then they
headed off in the direction of Burke Landing.
    “What
do you suppose got into him?” Regan wondered aloud.
    Bill
Murrow came wandering over, a twinkle in his eyes. “Burke must have agreed to
pay only for a two-hour stint,” he said, checking his watch. “Looks like their
time just ran out.”
    “Hmm,”
Trixie said. “That guy took off too fast—as though something were chasing him.”
    Bill
shrugged and walked back toward the stable. Obviously, the concerns of Burke’s
surveyors were no concern of his.
    The
minute the strangers were gone, some of the old spirit returned to the training
session. Regan entered the corral to get some pointers from Pat and Bill.
Trixie and Honey leaned against the corral rail and watched, enjoying the
elegance of the horses and the ease and grace of their trainers. Even old Gus
came by to take in the show.
    The
respite didn’t last long, however. Within twenty minutes there came the crunch
of gravel and grinding of gears that always signaled the arrival of Burke’s truck. Burke got out, slammed the door behind him, and
strode over to the corral.
    Bill
Murrow saw him coming, but took his own sweet time walking over to greet him.
“What can I do you for, Burke?” he asked.
    Burke’s
face was red with anger. “What’s all this about a ghost?” he demanded.
    The
question made Trixie feel as though time had stopped. She waited anxiously to
hear more.
    Then
Bill said, “I can’t say as I know what you’re talkin ’
about.”
    “The
surveyors just came tearing back to my place like the devil was on their trail.
One of ’em said he’d been looking through the transit and he saw a face rise up
right in front of the lens. A ‘disembodied head,’ he called it. He’s convinced
it’s the Galloping Ghost, and he refuses to come back and finish the job.”
    “Well,
I’m sorry about that. Maybe you can get your money back,” Bill said, his voice
dripping honey.
    “That’s
not the point!” Burke was nearly shouting. “I’m running a real estate
development here, Murrow! What kind of sales am I going to have if word gets
out