should be settling
this like men,” he threatened.
Bob and Pete looked on in fascination as
Timothy Fitchhorn wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “You don’t
scare me, you...you blustering Scotsman!”
“That is quite enough!” Everyone jumped when
a stern voice shouted from the kitchen doorway. “There will be no
fighting in this house!”
“Winston!” Julia sobbed, rushing to her
fiancé. “The ghost – it ‘twas here! I saw her with me own eyes down
the cellar steps! She was wearing an old dress and she held a noose
up for me to see and her face was a-glowin’ just like death
itself!”
As the butler embraced the distraught woman,
Bob observed that Winston was also quite wet from the rain.
Probably due to the butler having to cross over from the servant’s
cottage to the house, the small Investigator guessed.
Lightning and thunder cracked outside,
making the lights flicker again. Julia cringed and buried her face
in Winston’s shoulder. “There, there,” he said in a soothing voice,
putting an arm around his fiancé’s shoulders. Winston spoke to his
wife in a hushed voice. “You’ve had a scare, darling. Let me take
you to the cottage so you can lie down. I’ll prepare an icepack for
that bump on your head.”
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Julia whimpered.
“With your permission, I’ll leave dinner to you, m’lady,” said
Julia to Patricia. “I’m afraid I shan’t be much of a cook
tonight.”
Patricia said “Of course,” in a tender
voice. “I’ll take care of everything, Julia. You just go and rest
for awhile.”
As Winston helped Julia out of the room,
Jebediah O’Connell gave one last glare to Timothy Fitchhorn and
stormed out of the kitchen. Fitchhorn looked disdainfully at the
boys, then pulled on the lapels of his overly tight sport coat and
marched out of the room with his bird-like wife in tow.
“I don’t know if I can take much more of
this,” Patricia moaned, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t
think I can live here another month until the house sells!”
Pete looked at Bob and sighed. “Well, I
guess this means we have to search the cellar for the ghost again.
Come on.”
Pete pulled Bob by the arm, but the smaller
boy didn’t budge. “Hey,” said Pete, “what’s gotten into you,
Records?”
Bob was silent for a moment, as if he were
lost in deep thought. Then he spoke softly. “I think we may be
wrong about the Fitchhorns.”
“What about the Fitchhorns?” asked Patricia.
“What are you talking about, Bob?”
Bob showed her the front page of the
newspaper which he had been clutching in his hand the whole time.
Patricia gasped when she saw the grainy photo of the Fitchhorns
leaving the bank.
“Criminals!” she said furiously.
“Con-artists trying to get their hands on my father’s money. Well,
they won’t get a cent. Not one!” She buried her face in her hands
and began to sob. Bob put a comforting arm around her shoulder.
“What do you mean we might be wrong about
the Fitchhorns?” Pete asked stubbornly, pointing to the newspaper.
“It’s all right there in black and white!”
But before Bob had a chance to explain, they
all heard a slam at the front door. Moments later Jupiter and Ben
hustled into the kitchen, sopping wet and with bare feet!
“What happened!” cried Patricia in a worried
voice. “Are you boys okay?”
“We’re fine, Aunt Patty,” Ben grinned. “In
fact, we’re better than fine! Jupiter has discovered who our ghost
is!”
Pete leaped up with a huge grin on his face.
“But not before Bob and I discovered it!” he gloated with
satisfaction. “Guess what we learned about the Fitchhorns!”
“Wait a minute – don’t tell me!” said Jupe
dramatically. He pulled on his bottom lip as if he were
concentrating deeply. “Hold on...it’s…it’s coming to me!
Wait...I’ve got it.” he cried. “Timothy and Stella Fitchhorn are a
husband and wife con-artist team that have swindled people all
this like men,” he threatened.
Bob and Pete looked on in fascination as
Timothy Fitchhorn wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “You don’t
scare me, you...you blustering Scotsman!”
“That is quite enough!” Everyone jumped when
a stern voice shouted from the kitchen doorway. “There will be no
fighting in this house!”
“Winston!” Julia sobbed, rushing to her
fiancé. “The ghost – it ‘twas here! I saw her with me own eyes down
the cellar steps! She was wearing an old dress and she held a noose
up for me to see and her face was a-glowin’ just like death
itself!”
As the butler embraced the distraught woman,
Bob observed that Winston was also quite wet from the rain.
Probably due to the butler having to cross over from the servant’s
cottage to the house, the small Investigator guessed.
Lightning and thunder cracked outside,
making the lights flicker again. Julia cringed and buried her face
in Winston’s shoulder. “There, there,” he said in a soothing voice,
putting an arm around his fiancé’s shoulders. Winston spoke to his
wife in a hushed voice. “You’ve had a scare, darling. Let me take
you to the cottage so you can lie down. I’ll prepare an icepack for
that bump on your head.”
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Julia whimpered.
“With your permission, I’ll leave dinner to you, m’lady,” said
Julia to Patricia. “I’m afraid I shan’t be much of a cook
tonight.”
Patricia said “Of course,” in a tender
voice. “I’ll take care of everything, Julia. You just go and rest
for awhile.”
As Winston helped Julia out of the room,
Jebediah O’Connell gave one last glare to Timothy Fitchhorn and
stormed out of the kitchen. Fitchhorn looked disdainfully at the
boys, then pulled on the lapels of his overly tight sport coat and
marched out of the room with his bird-like wife in tow.
“I don’t know if I can take much more of
this,” Patricia moaned, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t
think I can live here another month until the house sells!”
Pete looked at Bob and sighed. “Well, I
guess this means we have to search the cellar for the ghost again.
Come on.”
Pete pulled Bob by the arm, but the smaller
boy didn’t budge. “Hey,” said Pete, “what’s gotten into you,
Records?”
Bob was silent for a moment, as if he were
lost in deep thought. Then he spoke softly. “I think we may be
wrong about the Fitchhorns.”
“What about the Fitchhorns?” asked Patricia.
“What are you talking about, Bob?”
Bob showed her the front page of the
newspaper which he had been clutching in his hand the whole time.
Patricia gasped when she saw the grainy photo of the Fitchhorns
leaving the bank.
“Criminals!” she said furiously.
“Con-artists trying to get their hands on my father’s money. Well,
they won’t get a cent. Not one!” She buried her face in her hands
and began to sob. Bob put a comforting arm around her shoulder.
“What do you mean we might be wrong about
the Fitchhorns?” Pete asked stubbornly, pointing to the newspaper.
“It’s all right there in black and white!”
But before Bob had a chance to explain, they
all heard a slam at the front door. Moments later Jupiter and Ben
hustled into the kitchen, sopping wet and with bare feet!
“What happened!” cried Patricia in a worried
voice. “Are you boys okay?”
“We’re fine, Aunt Patty,” Ben grinned. “In
fact, we’re better than fine! Jupiter has discovered who our ghost
is!”
Pete leaped up with a huge grin on his face.
“But not before Bob and I discovered it!” he gloated with
satisfaction. “Guess what we learned about the Fitchhorns!”
“Wait a minute – don’t tell me!” said Jupe
dramatically. He pulled on his bottom lip as if he were
concentrating deeply. “Hold on...it’s…it’s coming to me!
Wait...I’ve got it.” he cried. “Timothy and Stella Fitchhorn are a
husband and wife con-artist team that have swindled people all
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