Get Smart 9 - Max Smart and the Ghastly Ghost Affair by William Johnston

don’t recognize who I am,” he said. “I’m the resident ghost in this here ghost town. You can’t have a ghost town without you have a ghost, can you? Years and years ago, I was a prospector in these hyar hills. But I got caught in this tunnel and sealed in by a rock slide—just like that rock slide that’s blocking the door right now. Well . . . it turned out to be fatal. So, now I’m a ghost.”
    “That’s a lit-tle bit hard to believe,” Max said. “How about that mule? Don’t tell me the mule is a ghost, too.”
    “The mule’s a ghost, too,” the old prospector said.
    “I believe I asked you not to tell me that. But, now that you have, you might as well know that I refuse to believe it. I can accept the idea of a ghost prospector. But a ghost mule?”
    The old prospector raised the lantern. “If you can believe in a ghost lantern, you ought to be able to believe in a ghost mule,” he said.
    “He’s got a point there,” Max said to 99. He faced back to the prospector. “All right, for the time being, I’ll accept the possibility of a ghost prospector, ghost mule and ghost lantern. But what are you doing here in this tunnel? If you had a fatal accident here, I’d think you’d want to get out. That shouldn’t be any trouble for a ghost.”
    “This is the tunnel to the mine,” the old prospector explained. “My mule and me, we’re doomed to haunt this town and this mine until we find the lost vein of gold.”
    “Oh, really? Why is that?” Max asked, interested.
    “Don’t ask me,” the old prospector shrugged. “I don’t make up the rules. All I know is, I had that fatal accident here in the tunnel a long, long time ago, and when I got up to the pearly gates there was this fella there, and he said to me, ‘Where’s the gold?’ Well, I told him I was still looking for it when I suddenly took sick with that fatal accident. So, he says to me, ‘Go back and get the gold, you butterhead. And don’t come knocking around the gates ’til you find it.’ ”
    Max looked skeptical. “Is that all he said?”
    “No. He said to get rid of the mule before I came back, too.”
    “Oh . . . that’s too bad,” 99 said sympathetically.
    “Yeah, it kind of set my teeth on edge, too,” the old prospector said. “On account of that, I just might make a full career out of looking for that lost vein of gold. I’ll tell you the truth—I got a look through the gates while I was standing there jawing with that fella. And what I saw was, I saw all these folks sitting around on clouds in a bunch of sheets. They had wings on their backs and they were playing harps. Now, I could take about ten minutes of that. But if I had to put up with it for a whole eternity, I’d be climbing the walls trying to get out. See what I mean?”
    “I’ll admit to seeing what you mean, but only if it’s understood that I don’t believe any of this,” Max said.
    “Deal!” the old prospector grinned, holding out a hand.
    Max tried to shake it—but found himself grasping thin air. “Let’s make that a verbal agreement,” he said. “Now, what can you do about getting us out of here?”
    The old prospector looked at him speculatively. “Why would I want to get you out of here?” he asked. “I don’t know you, young fella. For all I know, you might turn out to be the worst enemy I ever had. I admit, you look kind of dumb. But maybe that’s an act.”
    “It is not an act,” Max said.
    “You’re really as dumb as you look, eh? It’s hard to believe.”
    “That’s not what I meant,” Max said. “What I meant is, I’m not putting on an act of any kind. I’m really exactly what I seem to be—an innocent secret agent in trouble. Maybe it would help if I introduced myself. My name is Smart—”
    “Your middle name is smart, you mean?”
    “No—my last name. I’m with—”
    “Then what’s your middle name? Dumb—like it looks?”
    “Let’s forget the name,” Max said. “Just refer to me by my