Max Smart and the Ghastly Ghost Affair

Max and 99 raced deeper into the tunnel. They stopped. They stuck their fingers in their ears. A second later there was a tremendous explosion. When the dust cleared, they walked back to the entrance to the tunnel. The rock slide was still in place. Now, however, there was a gigantic hole in front of the entrance.

“Max. . if you’d crushed that pellet on the rock slide-”

“Don’t be a Monday morning quarterback, 99,” Max said. “Nobody likes a secret agent and wife who’s a Monday morning quarterback.” He dug into his pocket again. “Instead of casting the first stone, let’s light a little candle in the darkness and see what else we have,” he said. “Well. . what have we here. .” He held up a device that looked like a skeleton key. “I don’t believe it!” he said. “R amp; D must still be living in the Dark Ages. Imagine. In this day of laser beams and space travel and organ transplants, they still classify an old-time skeleton key as an escape device. Not only is it ridiculous, it’s useless, too.” He tossed the device into the darkness.

“Max,” 99 began, “don’t you think-”

There was a glow of light from the direction in which Max had thrown the key.

“That glow looks very familiar,” Max said.

“I think you really should have read the instructions on the key, first, Max,” 99 said.

“Who needs instructions to operate a skeleton key?”

“Maybe it wasn’t-”

“I know!” Max said. “That’s the glow of a laser beam. 99, that key isn’t a key, it’s a laser beam! Good old R amp; D! They disguised-”

The glow faded.

Carrying the lighter, Max made his way through the darkness to where the key had landed. He picked it up and read the instructions that were still attached to it. Then he tossed the key away again.

“Yes, Max. . what?” 99 said.

“Good old R amp; D booted it again,” Max informed her. “They designed a laser to look like a skeleton key. Nobody would read the instructions to a skeleton key to find out that it was a laser.”

“But can’t it still be used, Max?”

“The battery is dead,” Max replied. “That’s another goof. They should have designed it as a wind-up laser.” He started going through his pockets again. “Well, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try-”

Max was interrupted by a sudden blinding flash. Automaticaly, he and 99 threw up their arms to protect their eyes. A moment later, when they looked, they were startled to find that they were no longer alone. Standing before them was a grizzled old man with a heavy beard. He was wearing rough clothes and boots and holding a lantern. And beside him was a scraggly-looking mule, that had a pack and a pick and shovel strapped to its back.

“Howdy,” the old man said. “If you’re lost and looking for the way back, it’s right through that pile of rocks.”

Max and 99 looked at the rocks that were still piled in the entrance.

“How did you get in here?” Max asked.

“I materialized-that’s the technical term,” the old man replied. “If you want my opinion, though, it’s magic.” He frowned. “I guess you 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 number. I’m 86.” He indicated 99. “And this is my wife, 99. You see, we’re secret agents. And, instead of being called by name, we’re called by number. Understand?”

“All but a couple things,” the old prospector replied. “What’s a secret agent? And how come you got a number instead of a name?”

“Yes. . well. . A secret agent is-in a way-like a private detective-understand?”

“Sure-like a Pinkerton. Now, why do you have numbers in the place of names?”

“That, I’m afraid, I can’t answer,” Max replied.

“Oh. Too big a secret, eh?”

“Actually, the reason I can’t explain it is because I haven’t the faintest idea why,” Max replied. “All I can tell you is, I don’t make the rules.”

“That’s enough,” the old prospector said. “I can understand that.” He looked Max and 99 up and down. “Well, I guess you look okay to me,” he said, finally.

“Thank you,” Max smiled.

“Not you. I was talking about her,” the prospector said, winking at 99. “You,” he said, facing Max again, “don’t look quite right to me. But, if she’ll vouch for you-”