The Ghost Ship Mystery Read Free

too quickly.”
    “Did wreckage turn up?” Henry asked.
    Mr. Pease shook his head. “A few months after the shipwreck a sealed bottle washed up on the beach. Inside were some pages from Captain Coffin’s diary recording all but his last few days. It’s a mystery that no one has ever figured out. There are stories about the captain forcing the ship to stay out at sea when it should have returned. And, of course, the sailor’s words about a mutiny. But no one really knows what happened.”
    “What was in those diary pages?” Jessie asked.
    Mr. Pease pushed back his own captain’s hat and shook his head. “No one knows for sure. You see, out of respect for the captain’s widow, Emily Coffin, the pages were turned over to her. She burned them before anyone got to read them. The rest of the diary was never found.”
    Mrs. Pease, who had been listening from the doorway, spoke to everyone in a soft voice. “Perhaps. Emily Coffin told her children her husband died a hero at sea.”
    Jessie shivered when a blast of wind hit the Black Dog Inn. “It must have been so dangerous to be at sea if it was anything like tonight. How terrible that so little was saved from the ship.”
    “Well,” Mr. Pease began, “there were a few things besides those pages that washed up— some carvings on whalebone or whale ivory called scrimshaw.”
    Violet’s face brightened. “Oh, yes, we’ve seen them in museums. Sailors used to carve them with pretty pictures during their long trips away.”
    Mrs. Pease smiled. “You’ll see no prettier scrimshaw than the collection right here in Ragged Cove at the Sailors’ Museum. Perhaps you—”
    Before Mrs. Pease could finish, Mr. Pease said to his wife, “Now, now. You know how Prudence is.” Turning to the children he explained, “She’s the curator of the museum. Lately she only allows organized school groups to visit. She wouldn’t even let our own grandchildren stop in the last time they came to Ragged Cove.”
    One of the guests nodded. “That woman doesn’t even want adult tourists. Thinks she owns the place, she does!” the woman complained. “Why I have a mind to complain to the town Visitors’ Bureau.”
    Mr. Pease threw up his hands. “I know. I’ve tried to reason with Prudence. Told her more than once she’s going to lose funding for the museum one of these days if she keeps being so stingy with her hours.”
    Violet looked disappointed. “Oh, dear. I had hoped to see some of those carvings.”
    “Same here,” Henry agreed. “I like to carve things myself and thought I could learn a thing or two. I heard it’s the best sailing museum around. We Aldens like anything to do with boats.”
    “Houseboats, rowboats, sailboats, all boats!” Benny added.
    Mr. Pease gave Benny a friendly cuff on the shoulder. “When this mean storm gets tired out, I know Bob Hull will give you a ride on his whale watch boat. That’s something you won’t forget in a hurry. It may be a few days, though. There’ll be major cleaning up to do after this storm—no doubt about that.”
    “Maybe a treasure from the Flying Cloud will wash up onshore, and we’ll find it!” Benny declared.
    “We know you will!” one guest said with a laugh.
    Mr. Pease turned to Benny. “You’ll find a thing or two for sure, my boy. Maybe not from the Flying Cloud, of course. But every storm sends in some surprise.”
    Unlike Benny, Jessie wasn’t thinking about surprises. She just couldn’t get the Flying Cloud out of her mind. “I do wish we knew what was written on those pages that Emily Coffin burned.”
    Mrs. Pease went over to the bookcase next to the fireplace. She pulled down an old gray book and handed it to Jessie. “Maybe you’ll get an idea from this.”
    “What is it?” Jessie asked.
    “A much longer book about the Flying Cloud. ”
    Jessie opened to the title page. In beautiful old-fashioned letters it said: The True Story of the Flying Cloud by Prudence Coffin. “The museum