The Mystery of the Galloping Ghost

reason, receptive to that psychic energy. And they are in the right place
at the right time. The battle sounds at Dieppe are only heard during the exact times of the battle—the month, day, and hour.”
    “I
get it,” Trixie said. “The French Revolution was in 1789, and that was a
crisis.”
    “Absolutely
correct,” said Wilhelmina. “Marie Antoinette—and, presumably, many of the
nobles at the Palace of Versailles that
day—were shortly to be overthrown and beheaded. It was a time of sweeping
social change and radical upheaval.”
    “That
would release some emotional energy, all right,” Trixie agreed, putting her
hand to her throat.
    “Hmm,”
Honey said thoughtfully. “Actually, I can feel something in the air whenever
somebody I’m close to is upset. If a whole lot of people were terribly upset,
that something might stay in the air—for years, even.”
    “Exactly,”
Wilhelmina said with an approving nod. “That kind of sensitivity may have
enabled you to experience the retrocognition .” Honey
didn’t look grateful. “What I don’t understand,” she continued, “is why Trixie
and I had the experience back at the cabin. There wasn’t even anybody there.”
    “Ah,
but there had been,” Wilhelmina said, pointing a finger at the sky. “My guess
is that you visited the cabin moments after old Gunnar Bjorkland had fled to escape the lynch mob.”
    After
that announcement, there seemed to be little more to say. The girls left
Wilhelmina and returned to the house.
    Honey
looked pale and drawn. She said almost nothing until Trixie reached up to turn
out their light that night. Then she wailed, “Oh, Trixie, I’m scared!”
    “Of what?”
    “Of going backward in time again.”
    “It
wasn’t that scary.”
    “That
was before we knew what it was.”
    “Well,
there’s no need for us ever to go back to the cabin again.”
    “That
isn’t the point! I feel as though it could happen to me again anytime,
anywhere. I feel so helpless!” Honey had pulled her blanket up under her chin
and looked truly frightened.
    Trixie
didn’t know what to say. Honey was, indeed, more sensitive to others’ feelings
than most people were. That might make her more prone to retrocognition . Maybe the only reason I had the
experience is that I was with Honey, Trixie thought.
    “I
wish I knew why it happened,” Honey said. “And if it was just because of me.
Then I might not feel as though I were going to—to fall through a hole in the
clock any minute.”
    “We’ll
figure it out before we leave Minnesota ,”
Trixie said. “I promise.”
     
    The
girls put up a good enough show that morning at breakfast to keep anyone from
asking questions. Trixie could tell that Honey was pale and withdrawn, and she
thought Regan was looking at both of them suspiciously, but nothing was said.
    Before
breakfast was over, the telephone rang and Bill Murrow answered it. As he
talked, his responses grew shorter and louder. His last sentence, before he
hung up with a crash, was, “I’ve known you for twenty years, Lars Anderson, and
I’ve known you to have some pretty dumb ideas, but this is the dumbest!”
    Bill
came back to the table, pulled out his chair, and set it down with enough force
to splinter it. Then he picked up his coffee cup and set it down with a bang.
He looked around the table to make sure that he had everyone’s attention before
he said, “Lars Anderson has company coming in next week. They’re from the big
city, and he doesn’t know what to do that’s exciting around here. So he wants
to bring ’em out some evening to see our ghost.” Pat Murrow let out a burst of
laughter, then lowered his head to stare at the table.
    His
mother wasn’t amused. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard!”
    “That’s
what I told him,” Bill Murrow agreed.
    Just
then the phone rang again. This time, Charlene went to answer it. She came back
looking like a thundercloud. “That was Mark Onsgard .
He wanted to know if his scout troop could have their overnight camp-out here—
‘because everyone wants to see the ghost.’ ” She mimicked her caller’s
enthusiastic tone. Needing to do something to take her mind off the call, Mrs.
Murrow began clearing the breakfast dishes, without even trying to force second
and third helpings on anyone.
    The
others hurriedly went outside to get out of her way. Bill Murrow remained
angry. But Pat said to the girls, “It isn’t that I want the place overrun