Sometimes her mom got caught up talking to other reporters. She needed Kate to remind her to move along.
“I’m going to go find my mom,” Kate said to Mike. “We’ll meet you here.”
Kate stepped back into the pressroom. Meanwhile, Mike leaned against a soda machine and tossed his baseball back and forth. The crowd of reporters thinned out.
Whoosh!
The baseball slipped past Mike’s left hand.
Clunk … clunk … clunk
.
The ball bounced on the floor and rolled into the foot of a passing workman. He was wearing a blue shirt that read ACE AIR-CONDITIONING . Little white clouds and icicles circled the words. Another workman was following him.
The first workman bent down and picked up the ball. “Hey, you’d better work on your catches, Mickey Mantle!” he said. He tossed the baseball back to Mike. “You’re not going to make it to the Yankees with that kind of fielding.”
“Thanks,” Mike said. A blush spread over his freckled face. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” the workman said. Mike looked more closely at him. Curly red hair poked out from under his Yankees baseball cap. He wasn’t very old at all, probably a teenager.
“Come on, Sammy,” the other workmansaid. “We have to finish fixing that air conditioner by the end of today. Tomorrow’s a game day. We won’t be allowed in the stadium.”
“Okay, Dad.” Sammy smiled at Mike and then ran to catch up with his father.
Mike went back to tossing the ball. The hallway was quiet.
“Boo!”
Mike jumped about a foot. The baseball flew out of his hands and bounced down the hall again. Kate and Mrs. Hopkins laughed as Mike scrambled after it.
“Thinking about ghosts?” asked Kate.
“No, just one ghost,” Mike said. “Babe Ruth’s ghost. If he’s really here, I want to see him.”
“I thought you’d like the ghost story,” Mrs. Hopkins said. She winked at him. “And I know something about it that no one else does!”
New York, New York
Fifteen minutes later, Mike, Kate, and Mrs. Hopkins were sitting in the back of a taxi heading to their hotel. It was still a bit chilly outside, but the bright spring sun warmed the car’s black vinyl seats.
“Okay, Aunt Laura,” Mike said. “Spill it!”
Kate’s mom laughed and shook her head. “No way. Reporters don’t have info handed to them. You have to learn how to figure it out. But I’ll give it to you if you can guess it.”
Kate settled back into the seat. This was her type of game. “Is it a person, place, or thing?” she asked.
“Place,” her mother replied.
“The locker room!” Mike shouted.
Mrs. Hopkins smiled. “No, Mike, it’s not the locker room. You need to ask more general questions until you’ve narrowed it down. Here’s a hint. It’s someplace you would like, perhaps around lunchtime.”
“Mom, that’s giving it away,” Kate said with a frown. She didn’t like it when puzzles were too simple. She liked figuring things out. “It’s either got to be something to do with baseball or food. Is it a food stand?”
“Yes, it is,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “Mike?”
“Babe Ruth was famous for eating a lot of hot dogs,” Mike said. “So I bet it’s a hot dog stand!”
“You got it!” Mrs. Hopkins said. “One of the janitors told me about it. Half an hour before every game, the ghost—or whatever it is—can be heard by Bud’s hot dog stand.”
“Well, I know where I’m eating breakfast tomorrow!” Mike said.
“Hold on, Mike,” Kate’s mom said. “We don’t need to be at the stadium until four o’clock. Tomorrow we’ll sightsee a little. Then we can go to the game early.”
“Perfect. There’s something I want to show you by Grand Central Station, too,” Mike said to Kate.
Back at the hotel, Mike and Kate spent an hour racing each other in the pool. They had contests to see who could hold their breath the longest. Just before dinner, they borrowed Mrs. Hopkins’s computer to do research on ghosts. Sitting on the hotel towels
“I’m going to go find my mom,” Kate said to Mike. “We’ll meet you here.”
Kate stepped back into the pressroom. Meanwhile, Mike leaned against a soda machine and tossed his baseball back and forth. The crowd of reporters thinned out.
Whoosh!
The baseball slipped past Mike’s left hand.
Clunk … clunk … clunk
.
The ball bounced on the floor and rolled into the foot of a passing workman. He was wearing a blue shirt that read ACE AIR-CONDITIONING . Little white clouds and icicles circled the words. Another workman was following him.
The first workman bent down and picked up the ball. “Hey, you’d better work on your catches, Mickey Mantle!” he said. He tossed the baseball back to Mike. “You’re not going to make it to the Yankees with that kind of fielding.”
“Thanks,” Mike said. A blush spread over his freckled face. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” the workman said. Mike looked more closely at him. Curly red hair poked out from under his Yankees baseball cap. He wasn’t very old at all, probably a teenager.
“Come on, Sammy,” the other workmansaid. “We have to finish fixing that air conditioner by the end of today. Tomorrow’s a game day. We won’t be allowed in the stadium.”
“Okay, Dad.” Sammy smiled at Mike and then ran to catch up with his father.
Mike went back to tossing the ball. The hallway was quiet.
“Boo!”
Mike jumped about a foot. The baseball flew out of his hands and bounced down the hall again. Kate and Mrs. Hopkins laughed as Mike scrambled after it.
“Thinking about ghosts?” asked Kate.
“No, just one ghost,” Mike said. “Babe Ruth’s ghost. If he’s really here, I want to see him.”
“I thought you’d like the ghost story,” Mrs. Hopkins said. She winked at him. “And I know something about it that no one else does!”
New York, New York
Fifteen minutes later, Mike, Kate, and Mrs. Hopkins were sitting in the back of a taxi heading to their hotel. It was still a bit chilly outside, but the bright spring sun warmed the car’s black vinyl seats.
“Okay, Aunt Laura,” Mike said. “Spill it!”
Kate’s mom laughed and shook her head. “No way. Reporters don’t have info handed to them. You have to learn how to figure it out. But I’ll give it to you if you can guess it.”
Kate settled back into the seat. This was her type of game. “Is it a person, place, or thing?” she asked.
“Place,” her mother replied.
“The locker room!” Mike shouted.
Mrs. Hopkins smiled. “No, Mike, it’s not the locker room. You need to ask more general questions until you’ve narrowed it down. Here’s a hint. It’s someplace you would like, perhaps around lunchtime.”
“Mom, that’s giving it away,” Kate said with a frown. She didn’t like it when puzzles were too simple. She liked figuring things out. “It’s either got to be something to do with baseball or food. Is it a food stand?”
“Yes, it is,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “Mike?”
“Babe Ruth was famous for eating a lot of hot dogs,” Mike said. “So I bet it’s a hot dog stand!”
“You got it!” Mrs. Hopkins said. “One of the janitors told me about it. Half an hour before every game, the ghost—or whatever it is—can be heard by Bud’s hot dog stand.”
“Well, I know where I’m eating breakfast tomorrow!” Mike said.
“Hold on, Mike,” Kate’s mom said. “We don’t need to be at the stadium until four o’clock. Tomorrow we’ll sightsee a little. Then we can go to the game early.”
“Perfect. There’s something I want to show you by Grand Central Station, too,” Mike said to Kate.
Back at the hotel, Mike and Kate spent an hour racing each other in the pool. They had contests to see who could hold their breath the longest. Just before dinner, they borrowed Mrs. Hopkins’s computer to do research on ghosts. Sitting on the hotel towels
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