DESPITE the fact that he was tired, upset in his mind and that his head was beginning to ache again, Tom Swift could not help laughing at the fright shown by Eradicate as the colored man made the best time possible away from the “ghost.” “Come back here, Rad! Come back! Nothing’s going to hurt you!” cried Tom, running down toward the upset lantern. “I’m no ghost!” Hearing his master’s voice, the colored man halted. Still not altogether convinced, he stood looking back and ready to run, as he asked: “Am dat—am dat you, Massa Tom?” “Of course it is, Rad! Who else would it be? I came out of the old cistern.” “Oh, den you’s daid! You shore am daid an’ it’s yo’ h’ant I sees!” Eradicate would have run away again, but Tom called more sternly: “Wait a minute! Don’t be foolish! Of course I’m not dead, though I’m in pretty bad shape after what that scoundrel Barsky did to me. Have they been looking for me, Rad?” “Yes, Massa Tom—dat is, ef you _is_ Massa Tom,” he added, as a qualifying remark. “Dey has been done lookin’ fo’ you. But we done thought you gone off to see Massa Damon, maybe, and maybe you done took dat Barsky with you, ’case he’s done gone, too!” “Yes, I reckon he’s gone all right!” muttered Tom. “But I’ve been around here all the while, Rad. Barsky knocked me senseless, bound me, and dropped me into the cistern under the old shop. I just managed to get out through the tunnel.” “Yes, sah, Massa Tom. I’s mighty glad you done got out. But is you suah—is you quite suah—Massa Tom, dat you isn’t a ghost?” “Of course I’m sure!” laughed the young man. “What makes you think I’m a ghost?” “’Case as how you’s all white like.” Then Tom looked down at his clothes and saw that he was covered with a white powdery substance which must, in the darkness, have given him a weird appearance, especially to the superstitious colored man. “It’s chalk dust, or something like that,” said Tom, as he slapped at his coat sleeves and trouser legs, thereby setting free a haze of white, powdery stuff. “I remember now that there are soft white rocks in the earth of the cistern and the tunnel. I must have brushed off a lot of the stuff on my clothes as I came along. No wonder you took me for a ghost.” “Yes, sah, dat’s jest whut you done look like,” said Eradicate. “Well, you know now that I’m no ghost, don’t you?” asked Tom, as he continued to get rid of the white dust on his clothes. “Um—yes, sah, I done reckon so,” answered the colored man, a bit doubtfully. “Anyhow, you _says_ so, Massa Tom, an’ whut you says mus’ be so.” “It is in this case, anyhow,” replied the youth. “But it isn’t Barsky’s fault that I’m not a ghost. Now we’ll go back to the house and relieve their anxiety, for I suppose they must have been a little anxious about me, Rad.”