here!”
“Not yet,” Squeak said. “We need proof that we’re actually detecting a ghost.”
“Like what? A dead body?”
“It could just be fluctuations in the barometric pressure causing an increase in static electricity affecting positive air ion levels,” Squeak explained. “We need to know for certain that the detector isn’t giving a false reading.”
“Yes, of course,” Itchy agreed, sarcastically. “We wouldn’t want a false reading.”
The Apparator continued to change. A low moaning rose up from behind the stone walls.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Itchy said to Boney.
“It wasn’t me,” Boney said.
Itchy looked at Squeak.
“It wasn’t me either,” Squeak said.
The detector began to buzz. The tube turned fire-engine red as the moaning grew louder, filling the air.
“It’s the ghost!” Itchy screamed, pointing across the mill to a shimmering form rising from behind a pile of rubble.
“Run for it!” Boney yelled.
Itchy grabbed Squeak’s shirt and sent him tripping to the dirt. The ghost detector fell out of his hands and rolled wildly across the ground. Boney stumbled over Squeak’s sprawled legs and went flying to the ground as well.
“STAY OUT OF MY MILL!” the ghostly voice growled.
The shimmering form streaked toward the Odds as they scrambled over each other to reach their bikes. The abandoned Apparator glowed angrily on the ground.
“We’re getting out!” Itchy shouted, grabbing his bike and jumping on the seat. His feet pounded against the pedals and dirt sprayed everywhere as he launched toward the opening in the wall, only to hit a rock and catapult head first over the handlebars into the grass.
Boney and Squeak ditched their bikes. They grabbed Itchy’s arms and attempted to heave him to his feet,but his legs turned instantly to overcooked spaghetti noodles.
“STAY OUT OF MY MILL!” the ghost shrieked, rushing across the ruins, its dark mouth gaping, its empty eye sockets trained on the boys.
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! It’s curtains for us!” Itchy screamed as the ghost fell upon the Odds in a heap.
Determined not to go down without a fight, Boney kicked and shouted, grabbing the ghost by the head and pounding furiously with his fists. Squeak lay like a paralyzed hamster on the ground, eyes and mouth frozen open.
“Ow!” The ghost yelled as Boney continued to kick and punch.
“It is curtains,” Squeak suddenly announced, emerging from his paralysis.
“Huh?” Boney said, still struggling with the ghost.
“It’s curtains,” Squeak exclaimed, grabbing one end of the shimmering ghost and yanking with all his might. “Real curtains. It isn’t a ghost at all,” he said as he uncovered a dusty little man cowering beneath the fabric.
“Oh, blast,” the little man exclaimed.
Boney jumped angrily to his feet. “What do you think you’re doing, running around, scaring the heck out of people?”
The man lowered his eyes sheepishly. “I live here,”he said, in a voice that made him sound as if he gargled with gravel. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses on his nose.
“Hey! Those are the glasses I saw by the firepit!” Boney said.
“I put them there,” the man said. “I wanted to take advantage of the legend.”
“The legend of the missing boys?” Squeak asked as he retrieved the Apparator. He checked it over, switching it on and off several times.
The man nodded.
“So why are you going around impersonating a ghost?” Boney demanded.
The man shrugged. “It’s the only way I can keep people out of the mill.”
“Despicable,” Itchy said, examining the remnants of the squashed chocolate bar in his hand.
“Odd,” Squeak added.
The man eyed Itchy’s chocolate bar hungrily.
Itchy gobbled the last of the bar. “We should beat him up,” he said, his mouth full of chocolate. He pointed to the curtains. “Look, he just painted that stupid face on himself. Pathetic.”
The man cringed. “Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I only
“Not yet,” Squeak said. “We need proof that we’re actually detecting a ghost.”
“Like what? A dead body?”
“It could just be fluctuations in the barometric pressure causing an increase in static electricity affecting positive air ion levels,” Squeak explained. “We need to know for certain that the detector isn’t giving a false reading.”
“Yes, of course,” Itchy agreed, sarcastically. “We wouldn’t want a false reading.”
The Apparator continued to change. A low moaning rose up from behind the stone walls.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Itchy said to Boney.
“It wasn’t me,” Boney said.
Itchy looked at Squeak.
“It wasn’t me either,” Squeak said.
The detector began to buzz. The tube turned fire-engine red as the moaning grew louder, filling the air.
“It’s the ghost!” Itchy screamed, pointing across the mill to a shimmering form rising from behind a pile of rubble.
“Run for it!” Boney yelled.
Itchy grabbed Squeak’s shirt and sent him tripping to the dirt. The ghost detector fell out of his hands and rolled wildly across the ground. Boney stumbled over Squeak’s sprawled legs and went flying to the ground as well.
“STAY OUT OF MY MILL!” the ghostly voice growled.
The shimmering form streaked toward the Odds as they scrambled over each other to reach their bikes. The abandoned Apparator glowed angrily on the ground.
“We’re getting out!” Itchy shouted, grabbing his bike and jumping on the seat. His feet pounded against the pedals and dirt sprayed everywhere as he launched toward the opening in the wall, only to hit a rock and catapult head first over the handlebars into the grass.
Boney and Squeak ditched their bikes. They grabbed Itchy’s arms and attempted to heave him to his feet,but his legs turned instantly to overcooked spaghetti noodles.
“STAY OUT OF MY MILL!” the ghost shrieked, rushing across the ruins, its dark mouth gaping, its empty eye sockets trained on the boys.
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! It’s curtains for us!” Itchy screamed as the ghost fell upon the Odds in a heap.
Determined not to go down without a fight, Boney kicked and shouted, grabbing the ghost by the head and pounding furiously with his fists. Squeak lay like a paralyzed hamster on the ground, eyes and mouth frozen open.
“Ow!” The ghost yelled as Boney continued to kick and punch.
“It is curtains,” Squeak suddenly announced, emerging from his paralysis.
“Huh?” Boney said, still struggling with the ghost.
“It’s curtains,” Squeak exclaimed, grabbing one end of the shimmering ghost and yanking with all his might. “Real curtains. It isn’t a ghost at all,” he said as he uncovered a dusty little man cowering beneath the fabric.
“Oh, blast,” the little man exclaimed.
Boney jumped angrily to his feet. “What do you think you’re doing, running around, scaring the heck out of people?”
The man lowered his eyes sheepishly. “I live here,”he said, in a voice that made him sound as if he gargled with gravel. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses on his nose.
“Hey! Those are the glasses I saw by the firepit!” Boney said.
“I put them there,” the man said. “I wanted to take advantage of the legend.”
“The legend of the missing boys?” Squeak asked as he retrieved the Apparator. He checked it over, switching it on and off several times.
The man nodded.
“So why are you going around impersonating a ghost?” Boney demanded.
The man shrugged. “It’s the only way I can keep people out of the mill.”
“Despicable,” Itchy said, examining the remnants of the squashed chocolate bar in his hand.
“Odd,” Squeak added.
The man eyed Itchy’s chocolate bar hungrily.
Itchy gobbled the last of the bar. “We should beat him up,” he said, his mouth full of chocolate. He pointed to the curtains. “Look, he just painted that stupid face on himself. Pathetic.”
The man cringed. “Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I only
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