Ghost Stories by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

hanging on metal pegs driven into the walls. One peg held a couple of long, narrow chains.
    â€œThose must be the ones the pirate used to fasten his sea chest with.” Joe inferred.
    â€œThe same kind his ghost has been rattling around the castle,” Frank added. “But now the ghost isn’t here.”
    The butler game him an uneasy look. “He comes when you least expect him. So you boys had better be on your guard tonight. He might sneak up on you.”
    â€œWell take turns sleeping and standing guard,” Frank told him. “We do that often on our investigations.”
    â€œThis investigation won’t be like any other you’ve ever undertaken before,” Haver warned.
    â€œThat’s for sure,” Joe agreed.
    When the Hardys finished inspecting the dungeon, the trio left and Haver locked the door. They went into a room across the hallway, which was bare except for two cots.
    â€œThis is where you’ll sleep tonight,” the butler said. “If you can, that is.”
    He gave Frank the key to the dungeon. Then he forced the burning flambeau into a socket beside the door, handed Joe the lighter, and left.
    The Hardys sat down on their cots in the darkness that was broken only by flames of the torch shining through the doorway. They listened intently, but not a sound reached them from above.
    Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud thump in the passageway, and a stiff gust of air caused the flambeau to go out!
    Frank and Joe bounced to their feet.
    â€œThe ghost may be in the hall!” Frank exploded.
    â€œAnd he may have blown out our torch,” Joe muttered. “I hope we can see enough in the dark.”
    The boys rushed into the passageway and looked around. But they saw nothing in the dense gloom. Frank peeped through the grill in the dungeon door, but all was black inside.
    â€œJoe, light the flambeau,” he suggested.
    Joe used the lighter to get the torch burning again. They decided to investigate the hallway, which ended at a wooden door. It was unlocked, and, going through, the brothers found themselves in the garden. They saw nothing out there and returned to their room across the dungeon.
    â€œMaybe the door was open and blew closed,” Frank speculated. “And that was the noise we heard.”
    â€œAnd the wind in the passageway put out the flambeau,” Joe completed the thought. “Nothing spooky about that, if that’s what happened.”
    They sat down on their cots again. Frank stretched out to go to sleep while Joe stood guard.
    Suddenly a ghostly voice began to sing a sea chanty in the dungeon! The words told of pirate voyages and buried treasure:
    The Jolly Roger flies on the Spanish main,
The pirate ship is sailing toward the land,
And Captain Kidd has brought his treasure back,
But who knows where he’ll hide it in the sand?
    As the strident tones rose higher and higher, Frank and Joe raced out of their room. Joe grabbedthe flambeau while Frank unlocked the dungeon door. There they barreled into the prison cell.
    They came to a skidding stop in the middle of the dungeon and stared bug-eyed at a wraith near the leg irons on the wall! The ghost was dressed in a pirate costume, had a black patch over one eye, and waved a cutlass. The face was that of Rollo MacElphin!
    He broke off his sea chanty. Leering at them, he shrieked, “Hardys, leave the castle!”
    The mention of their name startled Frank and Joe out of their trance.
    â€œHow do you know who we are?” Frank asked boldly.
    â€œI know everything that happens here!” the specter replied.
    â€œWhy should we leave?” Joe asked.
    â€œBecause you are meddling in things that do not concern you! Leave now, or we will meet again!”
    The outlines of the wraith became dim. Frank and Joe could see through it to the wall behind. They leaped forward with their hands outstretched, but the ghost had vanished and Joe found himself clutching