The Gray Ghost Read online

  The Gray Ghost

  The Gray Ghost

  A Seckatary Hawkins Mystery

  ROBERT F. SCHULKERS

  INTRODUCTION BY

  RANDY SCHULKERS

  AND DIANE SCHNEIDER

  Illustrations by

  Carll B. Williams

  UNIVERSITY PRESS OF KENTUCKY

  Copyright © 1921, 1926 by Robert F. Schulkers

  Copyright © 2016 by Randy Schulkers

  The University Press of Kentucky

  Scholarly publisher for the Commonwealth, serving Bellarmine University, Berea College, Centre College of Kentucky, Eastern Kentucky University, The Filson Historical Society, Georgetown College, Kentucky Historical Society, Kentucky State University, Morehead State University, Murray State University, Northern Kentucky University, Transylvania University, University of Kentucky, University of Louisville, and Western Kentucky University.

  All rights reserved.

  Editorial and Sales Offices: The University Press of Kentucky

  663 South Limestone Street, Lexington, Kentucky 40508-4008

  www.kentuckypress.com

  Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available from the Library of Congress.

  ISBN 978-0-8131-6794-7 (hardcover : alk. paper)

  ISBN 978-0-8131-6796-1 (pdf)

  ISBN 978-0-8131-6795-4 (epub)

  This book is printed on acid-free paper meeting the requirements of the American National Standard for Permanence in Paper for Printed Library Materials.

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  Member of the Association of

  American University Presses

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Map

  1. A New Start

  2. When the Ice Broke

  3. A Note on the Door

  4. Stoner’s Boy Comes Back

  5. The Telltale Footprints

  6. The Shadow of the Gray Ghost

  7. The Loud Voice

  8. One Who Came in the Night

  9. The Boy Who Vanished

  10. Escape of Three-Finger Fred

  11. The Secret Post Office

  12. The Mysterious Code

  13. Jude the Fifth

  14. Jude Springs a Surprise

  15. One Fox and Another

  16. An Old Friend

  17. The Deserted Dugout

  18. A Cry in the Night

  19. Link Returns

  20. The Ugly Dog

  21. A Note of Warning

  22. The Challenge

  23. The Strange Mix-Up

  24. The Gray Ghost Escapes

  25. Jude Retaliates

  26. The End of the Ugly Dog

  27. Simon Bleaker’s Secret

  28. The Black Cat

  29. The Blue Flame

  30. In the Tree Door

  31. Hard Times for Simon Bleaker

  32. The Plotters

  33. Simon Keeps His Cave

  34. Androfski’s Miracle

  35. A Rainy Night

  Acknowledgments

  List of Contributors

  Introduction

  Harper Lee fell in love with the Seckatary Hawkins books as a young girl, when she used to smuggle her brother Edwin’s copies out of his room to read them secretly. The Gray Ghost and Stoner’s Boy, two books of the Seckatary Hawkins series by Robert Franc Schulkers, are frequently quoted references in her famous masterpiece To Kill a Mockingbird. People who have read her classic are often shocked to discover that Harper Lee expressed the moral heart of all of the Seckatary Hawkins books by choosing to end her unparalleled classic with a lesson from The Gray Ghost. Harper Lee remained a beloved member of the Seckatary Hawkins Club her whole life.

  Schulkers, the author of forty-one Seckatary Hawkins stories, was born at home in 1890, just two blocks from the Licking River on 13th Street in Covington, Kentucky. During his childhood, the riverbanks of the Licking, Kentucky, and Ohio Rivers; the mountainous beauty of the Cumberland River; and the cave country of Versailles near Lexington, Kentucky, became his playgrounds, from which Schulkers would later draw inspiration for his numerous mystery and adventure stories, books, radio plays, and comics, produced from 1918 through the 1940s.

  The Seckatary Hawkins stories were first born as weekly installments in the Sunday issues of the Cincinnati Enquirer newspaper, but they were soon syndicated to more than one hundred other newspapers throughout the United States. With their club motto, “Fair and Square,” as guide, the riverbank boys attempt to follow simple values of honesty, patriotism, loyalty to friends and family, and faith in God. Not far away from their clubhouse lies the bigger city of “Wa-tertown,” which represents Cincinnati, Ohio. From here—or from other mysterious foreign locales—come various exotic and troublesome characters to create excitement and mystery for the boys of the Fair and Square Club. Robert Schulkers had played on these riverbanks himself, so he created for his characters a rich and textured topography, brimming with fascinating features that stimulated the imaginations of readers everywhere. For example, Schulkers loved the limestone caves of Kentucky so much that he used caves as the locale for many of the boys’ most exciting adventures; and for most readers of any age, caves evoke a forbidding and foreboding vibe. The enduring appeal of Robert Schulkers’ books, then, owes much to his love of children, his realistic characterization of the boys, and the imaginative and dramatic Kentucky settings he created for them.

  Schulkers was also praised for his naturalistic regional dialects and Midwest “riverbank boys” dialogue, so different from writers of the time who envisioned children as miniature adults in speech and mannerisms. He wrote the Seck Hawkins books in this way so that the average Kentucky child, especially, would recognize and enjoy the language common to his or her own experience. Notice the similarity of slang with To Kill a Mockingbird. Schulkers understood and expressed the nuances of the Kentucky character, especially in young boys. There are baseball, campfires, fishing, and friendships. But mistakes are made, and lessons are quietly learned—without cloying lectures—about forgiveness and humility, having compassion and accepting each others’ differences, and how to be a loyal, “fair and square” friend with respect for kin and country. And always the twists and turns of the inevitable dilemmas take them into Kentucky caves, into mysterious underground bunkers and spooky riverboats—in canoes, on horses, scrambling up cliffs, and swinging over treacherous caverns—but always with the rich beauty and majesty of the riverbanks and hills of Kentucky as a backdrop.

  CHAPTER 1

  A New Start

  POOR old Harkinson is gone. So are the Red Runners, all but Androfski and Jude. Those two stood by Harkinson like good friends. And the night Harkinson died, the sheriff came upon the Red Runners and caught them. That’s how Androfski and Jude escaped, because they were not with the Red Runners that night. They were helping out their old comrade, and because they were doing that kind of a good deed, they were saved. They got away. But the rest of the Red Runners went up to that strict school where old Judge Granbery sends bad boys to learn how to be good.

  And wasn’t I glad it was all over? You bet I was. No more watching of windows for spying eyes of Red Runners. No more fear of Long Tom and his rascals from Watertown. No more to be scared by the hypnotizing eyes of Harkinson—ah, poor old fellow. If we had known what had been wrong with those eyes that made us think they were hypnotizing us. If we had known that all the time old Harkinson’s eyes were growing dim, getting worse and worse, until one day he should stand before us and not be able to see us with those very same eyes, we would have understood what that strange look was, and we would have tried to help him. But it’s too late now.

  “Meeting will please come to order,”
sang out our captain, Dick Ferris.

  All of the boys were present. Shadow Loomis and Robby Hood, who lived in Watertown, had come down in their ice sailboat, for the river was still frozen and the weather was cold. John Loomis, Shadow’s no-account brother, whom we all called “Rolling Stone John,” was there, although he had no place at the table; his seat was over by the stove, and he usually sat there during the meetings with his feet on the fender, listening to all that was said but saying nothing. Lew Hunter, the boy who could play almost any kind of a musical instrument, was there too. Lew was the kid who always made us practice songs to sing, and he had us all singing in the church choir on Sundays; he lived at the preacher’s house and didn’t have any other folks.

  Jerry Moore was the biggest and roughest fellow in our club; Shadow used to call him “old hippopotamus.” Roy Dobel was the fellow whose father had a farm nearby, and Roy used to let us sneak his father’s horses out sometimes—he had many in his barn—and we would all go galloping. Bill Darby and Johnny McLaren were two of my oldest friends—we played together long before we started our club. Johnny McLaren was the first captain we ever had.

  And last, but not least, Perry Stokes, whose father was a butler up in Judge Granbery’s house. The boys met him while I was gone to Cuba for a long time, and they let him join the club provided he would be the caretaker of the clubhouse. There was a time when we had lots more boys in our club than these, but times change, and some go and some stay, and this is all we had left now. But we were just as happy—had just as much fun as we did when we first started.

  Our first clubhouse was a stranded houseboat that Jerry Moore’s daddy raised out of the river for us and set up on the bank with a lot of logs under it. But we lost that; never mind how because I wrote it all down in a book once, and there’s no use telling a tale twice. But we then went to our clubhouse here in the hollow, a neat little shack built by a fellow named Rufe Rogers and his two pals who had run off from college. They thought it would be fine to make their own way in life, but they changed their minds after a while and went back to college. So when our old stranded houseboat was broken up, we got old Judge Granbery to let us have Rufe Rogers’s shack in the hollow for our meeting place.

  I guess Doc Waters was the one who talked the judge into doing it. Doc is the only doctor in our town, and he likes us boys very much. He has done many good things for us, and when the judge said yes, Doc had the little shack in the hollow fixed up for us as a clubhouse and built a neat porch around the front. It only had one room till I went away to Cuba, and when I came back, I found the boys had built another smaller room onto the back of it for me to do my writing in. For I have been their secretary every since they needed one. And that’s a long time. The nickname they give me proves that. When they first decided they needed a secretary, they couldn’t even spell it. And neither could I. So I was called “Seckatary,” and they’ve kept on calling me that ever since.

  “I would like to say something, Captain,” spoke up Shadow Loomis, and Dick hit the table with his wooden hammer and said:

  “Shoot!”

  “The Red Runners are gone,” said Shadow. “And all of you fellas are thinking that our troubles with them are over. But two Red Runners are not gone. One of ’em I’m not afraid of. He don’t count. But the other one is as slick as a fox. If he wants to do it, he can give us more worry than all the Red Runners did put together. And I believe he will do it, unless—”

  “Unless what?” asked our captain, as Shadow hesitated.

  “Unless I resign from this club.”

  At once all the boys in the club were on their feet shouting that Shadow should not resign. They all liked him; he was indeed the smartest kid among us. For a few seconds there was more shouting and talking than you could stand, but Dick hit the table with his hammer and they shut up.

  “If you got a fella on the outs with you, Shadow,” said Dick, “it’s no more ’n right for all of us fellas to stick to you and see you through.”

  “That’s fine,” said Shadow. And he sat down. I knew the fellow he meant; it was Androfski, the Silent, so called because when he was a very little boy he had a very bad fever that took away his voice. When Androfski spoke it was only a rough whisper.

  The door opened. In came Doc Waters, followed by old Judge Granbery. My heart jumped into my throat. I knew right away that something was wrong, or else the judge would not have come to our clubhouse. We all stood up, while Shadow and Jerry shoved chairs up for the two men. But they did not sit down.

  “Hawkins,” said Doc, “the judge has a few words to say to you boys. If you will all sit down again.”

  Doc always spoke to me first when he wanted to say something to us boys. We all sat down, and the judge coughed once or twice, and holding his hat in his crossed hands behind his back, he began to rock slowly forward and backward upon his heels and toes and said:

  “It is my bounden duty, boys, to come to you and ask you if it is truth what I heard or just a rumor, and I hope you’ll pardon me for taking this liberty to disturb your meeting.”

  He looked at me as he spoke, but I didn’t want to talk to him. So I looked at Dick. For he was our captain, and it was up to him.

  “What have you heard?” asked Dick. There was a silence in the room that would have made a pin falling on the floor sound as loud as a nail. Then the judge coughed again and said:

  “I understand that you boys have allowed a run-away lad to sleep in this clubhouse and to make his home here.”

  “Now you boys,” continued the judge, “know that I think a great deal of you. I call you my junior police, don’t I? But would junior police allow a boy to stay away from his home and school and help him to do that by giving him shelter? No. They would not encourage such a thing. I would not believe it, however, until I came to inquire. I am here now for that purpose.”

  No one spoke. For a full minute, no one made a move. The next thing I knew Shadow Loomis had stepped up in front of the judge.

  “I am afraid somebody has told you a story,” he said. “These boys are the finest friends I ever had, Judge. I live in Watertown, and I’ll tell you there ain’t none up there like ’em.”

  But the Rolling Stone, Shadow’s older brother, stepped up, and drew him aside.

  “No use, kid,” he said. “He knows. Stand back here a minute.”

  He jerked Shadow aside and stood facing the judge, turning his tattered felt hat in his fingers nervously.

  “You heard the truth, yer honor,” he said to the judge. “I’m the one you heard about. I got a kinda restless nature, had it ever since I was a baby I guess. Never liked school and ran off whenever I got a chance. Pop brought me home twice, but the third time I ran off nobody knew where. I work for my living when I get a chance. I got a lot of friends among the farmers and they’ll tell you I worked good. ’Tain’t no wrong, yer honor, for a fella to work if he don’t like to go to school, though I know it’s lots better to get some learnin’ for a kid, but I jes’ was born that way. And now I hope you won’t blame these poor kids for doing me a good turn, Judge. They let me sleep here, ’cause it was so cold and the snow was deep, see? Don’t worry about me none, ’cause I’m goin’ on seventeen next June and about growed up. But—”

  He paused for a moment. Then, before any of us knew what he was about, he had dodged around Doc and the judge and pulled open the door.

  “So long, fellas. And much obliged,” he cried. Then he sprang out and slammed the door behind him.

  “After him at once, Doctor Waters,” ordered the judge. And Doc opened the door and went out. But I knew Doc could never catch the Rolling Stone. The judge turned to Shadow Loomis.

  “Who is that boy?” he demanded.

  “He’s my brother,” answered Shadow. “His name’s John.”

  “And was that the truth he told me?”

  “Every word, Judge. But he ain’t a bad boy; he’s just a rolling stone, pop says. But we all know he’ll come home some day. Pop says
to let him get tired of it, because there ain’t no other way to cure him.”

  The judge nodded his head.

  “If I were your father—” he said.

  But just then Doc Waters came back into the clubhouse.

  “No use following him, Judge,” he said, panting hard for breath. “He runs like a rabbit and gave me the slip.”

  “Boys,” said the judge turning to us, “never let me hear of this happening again. Should any such report come to my ears again, you can make up your mind to disband and clear out of this clubhouse for good. Please remember that.” Then turning to Doc, “Come on, Doctor Waters, we will be going.”

  After they were gone, there was nothing said for a long time. We all drew our chairs up to the table again and took our place. Perry Stokes began to stack the tumbled firewood back up behind the stove. Finally, Shadow stood up.

  “This settles it,” he said. “Boys, seems like I brought this trouble on you. I can’t go anywhere or make any friends but what my brother John comes and spoils things for me. And as I said when this meeting started, there’s one Red Runner left who will come down here and look for me, and all of you will get in trouble on account of him. So between him and my no-account brother, you will only be worse off by having me in your club, and so I say right here that I resign, and I ask you to cross my name off your list.”

  We tried to talk him out of it, but in the end we had to let him go. Even Robby Hood talked to him, but no, Shadow’s mind was made up. He looked sad, too, and I knew he was sorry that his brother John had ever come near our clubhouse. And when we stood there on the bank and watched him and Robby sail back up the frozen river, all of us knew that we were going to miss him. For who had done more for us boys and our club than Shadow? Who had planned and led us through more tight places than him? Nobody.

  When we walked back to our meeting room, there was the old Rolling Stone sitting in his place by the stove, and he grinned at us when we came in.

  “Purty slick, Hawkins,” he said. “That fat doctor couldn’t find his nose; if he could, he would have found me, for I was right under it. Hiding right behind the clubhouse all the time. But he went the other way. Him and that judge ought to know they can’t chase me away from here.”