Martin’s dogs were a product of his brief thaumaturgical instruction. The Ror Raas taught him how to shape his mental energies into two beings that he could control like puppets. They were clouds of force and could lift things, hold things, or, in this case, be used as a bed.

“You can hop up.” Martin said to Mr. Reeves. “There’s plenty of room.”

“No thanks.” Mr. Reeves replied. “I’m too used to bedrolls. I’ve used so many on the trail it now seems weird to me to sleep even a hand’s breadth above the ground.”

“I’ll take a bedroll.” Joseph said. “And I’ll hunker down next to the goat sucker. We make quite the pair, don’t you think?”

“You’d rather sleep on the floor than on one of the dogs?” Martin asked.

“With the floor, I don't have to worry about it suddenly moving and causing me to fall.”

“How are the dogs going to suddenly move?” Martin asked. “They obey my every command.”

“That’s what concerns me.” Joseph said.

“Oh, ha ha.”

“I wonder if the goat sucker will give me interesting dreams?” Joseph said. “He’s an ugly fellow, but he’s still fairy kin, and they say they fill your mind with wonder just by being close to them.”

“Knock yourself out trying it.” Mr. Reeves said. “I’m going to sleep by the fireplace.” Mr. Reeves turned to Matthew. “You know where you’re going to sleep, Dr. Ernst?”

“Right in this chair.” Matthew said. “Just hand me a blanket. I’ll write by the olprt radiance of my gaeite candle until I fall asleep.”

Suddenly, a howl which was like an owl trapped in a wolf’s throat split the night.

“Glad to hear Mr. Leeds is having fun.” Joseph said. “It’s crazy to me how much time he spends with those straps on. I think I’d go mad in his place.”

The Second Day

As dawn broke, Mr. Reeves was the first to wake up. He fixed coffee for himself and Dr. Glass and tea for Dr. Morton and Dr. Ernst. He gently cracked open the door to Mr. Leed’s office, saw that he was curled up and asleep, and quietly closed the door.

Dr. Morton and Dr. Ernst woke shortly after Mr. Reeves, but Dr. Glass remained fast asleep as they gathered in the main room for breakfast.

“Any dreams?” Mr. Reeves asked Joseph.

“I dreamed of an old case.” Joseph said. “It was the Chelmsford Bandage Man.”

“Oh. Him.” Matthew said. “That must have been an awful dream.”

“It was, but I won’t hold it against the goat sucker.” Joseph said.

“The Bandage Man was a bad one?” Mr. Reeves asked.

“Very bad.” Joseph said. “He killed many. He was horribly mangled in life. Doctors tried their best to keep him alive, but all they could do was hold death off a few days. He was just..blood and bandages, all stuck together. And he killed people because he felt he could repair himself with the pieces. He was mad. He thought he could take off the bad parts and attach new, good parts…but enough of that, the Bandage Man is old news, and if I spoke any further about him I'd ruin breakfast for you! What do we have to eat, anyway?”

“Biscuits.” Mr. Reeves answered.

“Oh? What kinds? Sweet teas? Chocolate digestives? Scousers?

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Mr. Reeves shrugged. “American, I guess?”

“Oh. Well, no problem. I’ll just have to soak them a bit in my coffee. These old teeth of mine can’t stand things so hard.”

“It’s not hardtack.” Mr. Reeves said.

"Yes, but it’s not proper English biscuits either. I think you Yanks use biscuits as a synonym for rocks.”

“Poor Dr. Glass seems like he wants to sleep until the afternoon.” Mr. Reeves said. “That Aldi Operation takes a lot out of a man, I see.”

“It does, which is why we have him do it.” Joseph said. “Martin’s not as young as he used to be, but he’s still younger than Dr. Ernst and myself.”

“Should we wait for him to get up, or should we head out on our own and let him sleep?” Mr. Reeves asked.

“Let him sleep.” Joseph said. “He did his fair share of work, and it’s not like the Alid Operation improves with the number of manesologists, one man does it as well as several.”

“I’m not experienced with that Operation.” Mr. Reeves said. “So I’m afraid one of you has to do it.”

“I’ll do it.” Matthew said. “Mr. Reeves, you can perform the Perkunos Operation.”

“The Perkunos Operation?” Mr. Reeves asked.

“Yes. Are you familiar with it?”

“Yes sir, Dirk Peters taught it to me. But that’s to weaken the khet component of a ghost, to make their physical manifestations stronger or weaker. Why will we need someone to perform that while we’re hunting for the Red Ghost?”

“Because we’re going hunting with Whistle, and the thing about Whistle is, his physical manifestation naturally blinks.” Matthew explained. “Sometimes he’s solid, sometimes he isn’t, and if someone isn’t constantly performing the Perkunos Operation, he’ll turn intangible while you’re riding him, and well, we did an experiment with a pumpkin one time. We ate pumpkin pie that night.”

“So no more.” Mr. Reeves said. “This ought to be interesting. I’ve never hunted anything or anyone with a ghost horse before. I bet if I had Whistle a year ago, I would have gotten to the Clayton Gang before the Sunrise Kid. This ought to be real interesting. Hell, I bet it’s even going to be fun!”

…..

“Is this interesting enough for you, Mr. Reeves?” Joseph asked as Whistle took to the air.

“Hell yes it is!” Mr. Reeves tapped the ectoplasmic straps holding him fast to the hollow insides of the carriage. He kicked a clump of glowing yellow hay with his boot. “I don’t know whether I’m inside Cinderella’s pumpkin carriage or Rumplestiltskin’s lair!”

“Just be sure to keep performing the Perkunos Operation in the back of your head, otherwise we’ll all find ourselves in Humpty Dumpty!” Joseph said.

Mr. Reeve’s gaeite lantern hung from his belt. It’s gaeite core was open and exposed. Olprt radiance shined forth from the amber colored block of gaeite and slivery-white light filled the hollow carriage. At the back of his mind, Mr. Reeves performed the Perkunos Operation, guaranteeing that he and his friends would remain in a solid carriage.

A large round window allowed the group to see over Eagle Creek, which from their height appeared as a blue ribbon snaking across the Arizona territory.

“How are you handling the Aldi Operation, Dr. Ernst?” Mr. Reeves asked.

Matthew fiddled with the ectoplasmic cross of hair in his hand stained black in Mr. Reeve’s olprt radiance.

“I feel the pull.” he said. “We’ll be on him in a moment.”

Suddenly, Matthew tightened his grip on the cross.

“I misspoke. We’re actually on him now and--ah, damn it all, I lost him!”

“You lost him?” Joseph asked. “Oh no! Don’t tell me--the Red Ghost is another teleporter?”

“It would seem that way.” Matthew said.

Joseph groaned. “Oh I hate dealing with teleporters. Cheaters, the lot of them.”

“What’s worse is that the Red Ghost also has one of the most sensitive manifestations I’ve ever encountered.” Matthew said.

“Oh, joy.” Joseph said.

“As soon as my mind touched his manifestation, he teleported.” Matthew said. “This is like the Oxford Flash all over again. We’re in for a long and troublesome chase, gentlemen.”

“So be it.” Mr. Reeves said. “The greater the trouble, the greater the glory.”

“We need to talk about a plan B, however.” Joseph said. “Matthew, assuming that we can’t get close enough to the Red Ghost to affix him, when do you think you’ll have enough psychic familiarity with his manifestation to drag him to our side with the Zacare Operation?”

“That’s hard to say.” Matthew said. “I’m going to tentatively say two days, maybe three. I only got a very brief flash when my mind made contact, but it was a vivid flash. I can make psychic contact with the Zacare Operation with just a few more of those, I think.”

“I’m starting to think the Red Ghost is the ghost of an animal, like Whistle here.” Mr. Reeves said. “He wasn’t spooked by a woman, but sensing the approach of several people and a horse set him to flight. That feels like animal behavior.”

“You may be right, Mr. Reeves.” Joseph said. “But it’s still early in the investigation. We haven’t even seen the Red Ghost with our own eyes. Anything can happen.”

“I’m getting a pull towards port quarter.” Matthew said.

“Port quarter?” Mr. Reeves asked.

Joseph pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “It means back that-a-way, or just abouts.” Joseph took out a large metal cube from his pocket covered in knobs. He twisted one.

The cube made a sound like a whip cracking through the air once, and then twice in rapid succession. The men felt themselves pull against the ectoplasmic straps as Whistle turned.

“New question--what’s that box that sounds like a horsewhip?” Mr. Reeves asked.

“Oh, it can sound like more than that. This is our noise box. We built it shortly after we acquired Whistle to deal with a ghost called the Modern Siren who could only respond to sound.”

“I remember reading about her in Illustrated Phantom Stories.” Mr. Reeves said. “I thought it was funny that the drawing on the cover had her as a beautiful lady in a diaphanous gown but in the story itself she was a living song without a physical shape.”

“A cover with a pretty girl on it will always sell more than a cover of three men staring at empty space.” Joseph said.

“And it was a fine cover indeed.” Mr. Reeves said. “But about this port quarter thing?”

“We have a system based on the directions of a boat.” Matthew explained. “Towards Whistle is bow. Away from Whistle is stern. To the right of Whistle is starboard and to his left is port. Port quarter is halfway between port and stern.”

Mr. Reeves smiled. “So I’m on a flying horse-drawn boat? Hell, I knew this was going to be fun!”