About 10 o'clock the ghost appeared, carrying his lantern with him.  The spectre made its appearance, apparently rising from the ground at the foot of a beech tree which stands at the west end of the field.  The white-robed figure dodged in and out, seen at one minute, the next lost to sight.  After continuing this performance for a few minutes, the figure advanced boldly toward the astounded spectators.

It came on with a bounding movement, similar to that made by a kangaroo while in motion.  When within a few feet of the spectators, the ghost stood motionless for a second, and after waving the lantern in the air three or four times, suddenly vanished from sight.  This is the way a young man of the unquestioned veracity tells it.

An Attempt to Capture.

The next night an attempt was made to capture his ghostship.  Thirteen (an unlucky number) of Auburn's bravest young men took up their position among the branches of the beech tree, from under which the ghost appears.  The young sentinels were not afraid of ghosts.  Oh, no! and they chuckled to themselves, thinking of what fun they would have in the capture.

About 300 or 400 people stood in the street.  The ghost appeared about 10 o'clock.  It arose as usual from the ground at the foot of the beech tree.  Its appearance caused an unusual commotion among the brave young men in the tree.  One of the would-be captors' fainted, while his companions clutched more tightly the branches of the tree and with awe-stricken faces waited for the thing to pass on.  His ghostship did not carry his lantern on this occasion.

The following night another and more determined party of men attempted to capture the ghostly visitant.  They chased it around the oat field, but could not capture it.  Just as one of the pursuers would attempt to place a hand upon the specter it would suddenly vanish, only to reappear again a second later in a distant part of the field.

It is a motley crowd which gathers nightly to catch a glimpse of his ghostship.  Some times it appears, "and then again it doesn't."  It is a very uncertain ghost to  gamble on.  Old, gray-haired men, as well as barefooted, rosy-cheeked children gather front of the oat field and keep nightly vigils, waiting for the apparition to appear.  Young men and their sweethearts make the scene a trysting place, and they come on foot and on bicycles to wait and watch.  Parents even bring their children out to see the ghost.  The fences on both sides of the street have been torn down by the mob, and the oat field is stamped down, as if a herd of Western steers had passed over it.  It has been roughly estimated that fully 4,000 people have visited the field during the week.

The scene where the alleged ghost appears is inside the city limits, yet the authorities have taken no action in regard to the matter.  Chief of Police MacMaster is waiting for the property owners of that section to enter complaint.  There are no city ordinances which prohibit orderly and respectable ghosts from taking up their abode in an oat field or anywhere else.

No Ordinance Against Ghosts.

In fact, the framers of the city's bylaws neglected to enact ordinances under which a ghost could be apprehended and punished for his temerity in stalking abroad at night with a lantern in its hand.  There are many theories as to the identify of the ghostly phenomena.  Some claim that it is the spirit of a restless bicycle rider who was electrocuted during the dark ages for not having his lamp lighted after sundown.  That during the revival of the bicycle craze in modern times he is doomed for a certain number of nights to appear with his lantern as a warning to those wicked riders who will persist in letting their lamps blow out on dark and stormy nights.  Some say that it is the spirit of a man who was murdered in the oat field many years ago.  The criminal records of the county fail to show when the alleged murder was committed, or who was the victim, consequently that story will not hold.

A man named Murphy, residing in State street in the vicinity of the haunted field, says that the specter is the Murphy's family cat.  "Thomas" is a beautiful white feline, who occasionally rambles away from home to meet his inamorata in the haunted field.

The theory, however, is not credited by those who have seen the specter, which has been described to be from six to ten feet tall.  As Murphy's cat never was, or never will be, ten feet in height the probabilities are that "Thomas" is not the guilty party.

The O'Hara's don't know who or what it is, and what's more, don't like to talk about the matter for publication.  One of the neighbors said that the specter is a young girl who resides in York street.  The young girl in question indignantly denies the accusation and says that if she ever catches her accuser face to face she will scratch his eyes out.  This at once establishes her innocence.  Officer Titus, who patrols the State street beat, says that the ghost is a man with a white sheet over his head.  Officer Titus started out to investigate the matter a few days ago and to find out if possible who the joker might be.  In less than forty-eight hours he was told by as many as fifty of the residents of the street who the guilty party was.  Strange to say, every one of the fifty informers were in turn accused by each other of the heinous offense and here the matter rests.

The specter appeared again about 11:15 o'clock to-night and nearly frightened the wits out of a large number of spectators by its grotesque actions.  The figure apparently dropped from the clouds into the midst of a crowd of young men, who were seated under the beech tree smoking cigarettes.  The smokers dropped their cigarettes and with a screech fled from the field with the strange apparition in hot pursuit.  The phantom chased the men into the middle of the street, and then, with a peculiar bounding gait, returned to the field and vanished from sight.

Syracuse Sunday Herald, Syracuse, New York - Sunday, August 1 1897   

Only the brakesman killed--say, was that what they said?
The brakesman was our Joe; so then---our Joe is dead!
Dead? Dead? Dead?--But I cannot think it's so.
It was some other brakesman, it cannot be our Joe.

Constance Fenimore Woolson, Only the Brakesman