Beware the Pirate Ghost Read Free Page B

into his doorway.
    “I told you to go away,” he said. “If you’re lookin’ for pirate treasure, you’re in the wrong place. There’s no treasure buried here. Plenty of hunters came searchin’ in years gone by, but none of ’em found so much as a penny. There’s nothin’ good in Hernando Cove but the fishin’, and I don’t welcome your company.”
    “We don’t want treasure, and we’re not interested in fishing,” Brian told him. “We’re looking for a missing seven-year-old boy.”
    “No boys around here, either.” The fisherman grinned, exposing yellowed teeth, some of them missing. “If any boys had enough nerve to come near the caves, the pirate ghost would get ’em, and they’d never be seen again.”
    His grin grew wider. “The pirate ghost carries a sword. A bloody sword, if you get what I mean.”
    Sean, his heart thumping, took a couple of steps back. “Okay. We’re going,” he said.
    The fisherman left his shack. With his mouth still twisted in an awful, smiling grimace, he strode toward Sean and Brian.
    “That goes for all of us,” Sam said. “We’re out of here!”
    Sean turned and broke into a run, struggling through the soft sand until he reached the path through the boulders. As fast as he could, he scrambled upward.
    Finally, he paused and dropped to a flat place in the trail. He breathed hard, trying to catch his breath.
    Sam tripped and fell next to Sean. Sean was surprised to see that Sam looked frightened. “That guy is weird,” Sam said. “While he was yelling at us, all I could think about was poor old Jack the Sailor.”
    “Poor old Jack the Sailor has got to be somebody you made up,” Brian said. He climbed up beside Sean and sat down.
    “Maybe. Maybe not,” Sam said. “The story seemed very real when we were down there.”
    Sean had to laugh. “That’s funny! You scared yourself!”
    “Running away was a good move, Sean,” Brian whispered.
    “It wasn’t a move. It was for real,” Sean said.
    “Whatever. The fisherman will think we’ve given up.”
    “We have, haven’t we?” Sean asked.
    “No, we haven’t,” Brian said. “We haven’t checked out the caves yet.”
    “But that guy said—”
    “He said there weren’t any boys around. That means he didn’t see any. But if Lester came here, it was in the middle of the night and the fisherman was probably asleep.”
    Sean gulped. “Then the pirate ghost got him—”
    “No, he didn’t.”
    “—with his bloody sword.”
    “Come off it, Sean,” Brian said. “Don’t pay any attention to the stories Sam tells you. He just likes to scare you.”
    “Sam’s scared, too,” Sean answered.
    Sam looked embarrassed. “I was scared for maybe a minute or two, but don’t tell my little brother,” he said. He looked at Sean. “The Jack-the-Sailor story wasn’t exactly true, but the pirate ghost sure is.”
    Brian raised up, peering over the rocks, then sat down and whispered to Sean, “The fisherman’s still out there. You and Sam hide in the rocks. I’m going to ride around to the road that enters the cove and see if I can find Lester’s bike, or any sign he might be here. If I do … Well, we’ll climb down again, sneak around the shack, and enter the cave.”
    “With the ghost?” Sean asked.
    Brian looked at his watch. “Forget the ghost. It’s after ten o’clock.”
    Bent over, so the fisherman wouldn’t see him, Brian started up the trail. Sam scrambled up next.
    Sean made his own way upward, leaving the trail. But as he climbed around one of the boulders he stepped on a soft lump that suddenly moved out from under his foot. A low growl sounded in his ears, and something clamped tightly around his ankle.

5

    “W ATCH IT,” DEBBIE JEAN GRUMBLED . “You stepped on my foot.”
    Sean dropped down beside her. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
    “I’m following you,” she said. “I’m the one who told you about the missing bike and the way Lester acted about his