The Gross Ghost Mystery

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Sure. If the great beyond just happens to be our backyard,” Frank said.

  They ran to the window and looked out. A tall boy with dark hair and glasses was throwing a ball against the house.

  Frank and Joe ran down the stairs and out the back door.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” Joe called to the boy.

  The boy looked at Frank and Joe. Then he began to run.

  “Sorry,” he shouted over his shoulder. “I thought this house was still vacant.”

  Frank looked down at the ground. The kid had dropped his baseball glove.

  “Wait. You forgot this,” Frank called, picking it up. Then he saw something that made his heart race. Marked on the glove in black ink were the initials C.M.

  Frank stared at the glove. C.M.: Chet Morton. Could this be the stolen glove? Who was this kid?

  The boy dashed back and he grabbed the glove from Frank’s hand. “Thanks!” he said. Then he disappeared behind the house next door.

  7

  Furry Thief

  I’m telling you, Joe, that kid might be the baseball-glove thief!” Frank said the next morning. He turned on the computer and added “Mystery kid” to his list of suspects.

  Joe shrugged. “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t.”

  “Then why do you want to search the Morrow mansion again?” Frank asked.

  “Because we still haven’t ruled out ghosts,” Joe explained. “And today I’ll get some evidence.”

  Joe held up a piece of tracing paper.

  “What’s that for?” Frank asked.

  “I’m going to trace the footprints we saw on the floor yesterday,” Joe said, “so I can prove that they were made by a skeleton.”

  “Are Chet and Mike going with you?” Frank asked.

  Joe shook his head. “Chet is still spooked from last night. Mike has a dentist appointment.”

  “Then wait for me,” Frank said. “I want to come.”

  A few minutes later Frank and Joe were heading toward the Morrow mansion. As they turned onto Oak Street, Frank stopped in his tracks. There on the block was the mystery kid. He was wearing the baseball glove and tossing a ball up in the air as he walked.

  “That’s the kid we saw last night,” Frank whispered as the boy turned the corner. “Let’s follow him.”

  Joe nodded. Frank held a finger to his lips to let Joe know they should be quiet. Then the two boys raced silently around the corner.

  The street was deserted. No cars. No kid. “I can’t believe it,” Frank said. “Where’d he go so fast?”

  “I don’t know,” Joe said, “but forget about him. Let’s go to the house.”

  The brothers walked back to Oak Street and entered the Morrow mansion.

  “I’m glad Dad unpacked the flashlight,” Frank said as they opened the door. He flicked on the light and shone it at the floor.

  “Look!” Joe cried, pointing down.

  “These are fresh footprints. They weren’t here yesterday.”

  Frank studied the tracks. The prints led down the entrance hall of the mansion toward the back of the house.

  “Let’s follow them,” Frank said.

  Joe knelt down on the dusty floor with his tracing paper and a pencil. “Not until I get what I came for.”

  He carefully traced three footprints. Then he stood up and followed his brother.

  The tracks finally led to the kitchen. In it was a wood-burning stove and an old refrigerator. Suddenly the boys heard a faint chattering sound.

  “What’s that?” Frank hissed.

  “I don’t know, but it’s coming from behind the stove.”

  The chattering got louder. Then the boys saw something that made their blood run cold. A pair of red eyes stared out at them from behind the stove.

  With a shaky hand, Frank aimed the flashlight at the eyes. Then both boys froze. A furry creature leaped out at them. And it was angry!

  • • •

  “It’s the ghost of Dr. Morrow’s cat!” Joe cried.

  The creature let out a squeak. Then it turned and ran back behind the stove.

  “Whatever it is, I don’t think it likes us,” Frank added.

  “Don’t think—just run!” Joe said.

  The boys slid on the dusty floor as they dashed out of the house. They slammed the door behind them and ran the rest of the way home.

  “That was quick,” Mrs. Hardy said when Frank and Joe burst into their own house.

  The boys took a minute to catch their breath. “Have we unpacked the CDROMs for the computer?” Frank asked, still gasping.

  “Not yet,” Mrs. Hardy said. “They’re in a carton under the desk.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Frank headed for the den, followed by a curious Joe.

  “What are you doing?” Joe asked.

  “Do you still have the footprints you traced at the house?” Frank wanted to know.

  Joe pulled the folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Frank.

  Frank unfolded the paper and placed it on the desk next to the computer. He opened the box of computer CDs and flipped through them until he found the disc he wanted.

  The computer screen soon glowed with the title of the disc Frank had chosen.

  “The City Kid’s Guide to Nature,” Joe read. “What does this have to do with ghosts or skeletons?”

  “Nothing,” Frank said. “It has to do with animals.”

  Photos of a deer and a coyote flashed by on the screen. Then came a mountain lion.

  “Bingo!” Frank cried. The screen showed a large headline: “Tracks and Trails of North American Animals.”

  The pictures appeared on the screen. Joe saw the sharp hoofprints of a deer. Then came the padded-paw print of a wolf.

  Frank kept working at the computer.

  “Stop!” Joe shouted. “There’s our footprint. What does it say?”

  Frank read slowly. “Procyon lotor— the American raccoon.”

  Joe studied the tracks on the computer screen. “Are you sure?”

  “Joe, these look exactly like the prints you traced,” Frank insisted. “Who else could they belong to?”

  Joe shrugged. “A ghost?”

  • • •

  “A raccoon?” Mrs. Hardy said when the boys told her. “Now I know we’re not in the city anymore.”

  Mr. Hardy shook his head. “Raccoons can turn up anywhere. And they can be dangerous.”

  “I thought raccoons only fought when they were attacked,” Frank said. “That’s what it said on the CD.”

  “Raccoons will also attack when they’re scared,” Mr. Hardy answered. “And you boys could have scared him.”

  “The poor thing,” Mrs. Hardy said. “He’s probably been stuck in that old house for a long time.”

  “There must be an animal control office in Bayport. They’ll know what to do with the raccoon,” Mr. Hardy said. “I’ll call and see if someone can meet me at the Morrow mansion in half an hour.”

  “I’ll call Chet and Mike,” Joe said.

  “Then we can all go in and watch.”

  Mr. Hardy firmly shook his head. “You boys will have to wait outside. Let the experts handle the raccoon.”

  “Right,” Joe said. “If it really is a raccoon.”

  • • •

  Frank and Joe watched as their dad went into the mansion. He was with two workers from the Bayport Animal Control Office.

  “I hope Chet and Mike show up soon,” Joe said. “This is going to be good.”

  Suddenly they heard a voice behind them. “Hi again,” it said.

  Frank and Joe spun around. It wasn’t Chet or Mike. It was the mystery kid.

  “Neat house, huh?” the kid asked.

  “I’ve been inside a couple of times.”

  Frank thought of Chet’s glove. He faced the boy head-on. “Where did you get that new baseball glove?”

  “Huh? My baseball glove?”

  Just then Mike and Chet came running into the yard.

  “Hey, I
see you’ve met my bro,” Mike said.

  “Your bro?” Frank asked slowly.

  Mike put his arm around the mystery kid’s shoulder. “Yeah, my big brother, Carlos.”

  “Carlos Mendez?” Joe asked.

  Frank remembered the initials on the baseball glove. “C.M.?”

  Carlos stared at the Hardys. He shook his head. “You guys are weird.”

  Frank smiled at Carlos. The mystery kid was no longer a mystery. And no longer the glove thief.

  Just then the door to the mansion swung open. Mr. Hardy came out followed by one of the animal control officers. She was carrying a cage. Inside the cage was the creature from behind the stove.

  The boys stared into the cage.

  “It’s a raccoon all right,” Frank said.

  The raccoon blinked at them. It didn’t look angry anymore, just tired and scared.

  “It is a raccoon,” Joe said with a sigh.

  He was disappointed that it wasn’t a ghost.

  “Oh, boys,” Mr. Hardy said. “I found something else.”

  “What?” Joe asked. “A laboratory with monster parts? A vampire’s coffin?”

  Mr. Hardy laughed and shook his head.

  He reached into his jacket and pulled out a baseball glove.

  “Does this belong to anyone?”

  8

  Fools and Ghouls

  My glove!” Chet cried. “Thanks. Where was it?”

  “It was behind the stove with the raccoon,” Mr. Hardy explained. He handed the glove to Chet.

  “How did the glove get all the way back there?” Joe wondered out loud.

  Frank thought for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers. “I get it! Remember Chet said he was eating a tuna fish sandwich when the Zack Pack took his glove?”

  The boys nodded.

  “The raccoon probably smelled the tuna on the glove. And a raccoon could have made those scrape marks on the floor when it was dragging the glove away.”

  Chet put on his glove and smiled.

  “Well, I’m sure glad to have my glove back.” He sniffed it. “Even if it does smell kind of funky now.”

  Mr. Hardy laughed. He turned to his sons. “Congratulations on solving the case, guys.”

  “You found the glove, Dad,” Frank said.

  “But you boys found the culprit—the raccoon,” Mr. Hardy said. “What do you say we celebrate with a round of ice cream?”

  “Sounds great, Dad,” Frank said. “But Joe and I don’t know any ice-cream places around here yet.”

  Chet stepped forward. He put his hand on Frank’s shoulder. “You guys take care of the mysteries. I’ll take care of the snacks. Follow me.”

  Chet led the way to his favorite ice-cream store, Flavor-a-Day.

  While the boys were eating their cones, Mr. Hardy made a phone call.

  “I’m glad you got your glove back,” Frank said to Chet. “But what about the guys who threw it in there?”

  “I know what you mean,” Mike said.

  “It’s not fair. They always get away with picking on us.”

  “Not this time,” Frank said. “I’ve got a plan.”

  • • •

  The next morning Frank and Joe ran to the playground.

  “Zack! Biff!” Joe called when they got there. “Chet went into the Morrow mansion an hour ago, and he still hasn’t come out!”

  Zack was busy sticking a spider tattoo on his arm. “Maybe he can’t fit through the door,” he said with a sneer.

  “Besides,” Biff said, digging his sneaker toe into the dirt, “what do you want us to do about it?”

  “We want you to help us find him,” Frank said. “After all, you’re the toughest guys in Bayport. No ghosts would mess with you.”

  Zack grinned from ear to ear. “You got that right!”

  Biff looked at Frank and Joe. “I told you guys. Zack won’t go near that house.”

  Zack glared at Biff. “Oh, yeah? Watch me!” He whistled for Mark and Brett. Then Zack and his pack headed for the mansion. As they marched down Oak Street, Joe and Frank talked about Dr. Morrow’s ghost.

  “The ghost must have gotten Chet,” Joe said. “What are we going to do?”

  “If you’re so worried about Chet, why didn’t you go in after him yourself?” Zack said.

  “Because we looked in the window, and we didn’t like what we saw,” Frank said.

  “Bunch of wimps!” Zack said.

  When they reached the mansion, the boys walked through the gate. Frank noticed that Zack let all his friends go first.

  “So what did you see?” Zack demanded.

  Frank walked to the side of the house.

  “Look for yourself,” he said, pointing to the broken window.

  “It’s dark in there,” Brett said.

  “Aw, it’s just a lot of shadows,” Biff said. “But I think someone’s lying on the floor.”

  “What?” Zack shouted.

  “Where?” Mark gasped, looking in the window.

  Brett looked in, too. “There’s a body! And it’s not moving!”

  “Let’s check it out,” Zack said.

  “I’m not going in there.” Biff shook his head.

  “What do you mean?” Zack said.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Biff answered.

  Zack’s face turned red. “Hey, I’m the leader around here, remember? I’m telling you for the last time, creep, we’re going in!”

  “You’re right about one thing,” Biff shouted back. “That’s the last time you’re telling me to do anything. If you’re dumb enough to want to go in there, go ahead. But you’re not getting me to go along!”

  “Fine!” Zack sneered at Biff. “Stay out here like a loser. But we’re going in. Right, guys?”

  Biff sat down on the front steps while Mark, Brett, and Zack went inside. Frank and Joe quietly followed.

  They could hear the Zack Pack ahead of them. Their shouts were hard to miss.

  “Ow!”

  “Quit pushing!”

  “I found a doorway!” Zack yelled over the others. “It must lead to the room with the body.” He grunted as he pushed open the door.

  “Hey!” Brett called out. “That looks like Morton lying there!”

  “What’s that wet stuff on the floor around him?”

  Zack’s voice began to quaver. “Looks like b-b-b-blood!”

  His words were cut off as an eerie laugh echoed through the house.

  Frank and Joe could see the Zack Pack freeze. Zack clutched Mark’s arm. “There’s no such thing as ghosts, right?”

  “Hey, let go of me,” Mark said, shoving Zack.

  “Mwah, hah, hah, haaaaaa!” a creepy, whispery voice said. “Come, now. There’s no need to be frightened.”

  Zack looked around. “Who said that?”

  As the laughter continued, a rattling skeleton suddenly flew through the air. It hung over the Zack Pack.

  “Aaaaaaagh!”

  “Eeeeeeeee!”

  “What’s the matter, boys?” the voice came again. “Do you need a hand?”

  A pasty white hand suddenly came crawling into the room. It moved toward the Zack Pack like a spider.

  Screaming their lungs out, the Zack Pack ran for their lives. Zack was right in front, screaming the loudest.

  As the screams died away outside, Joe and Frank began to laugh. Then Chet sat up and laughed, too.

  Biff came running into the house.

  “What’s going on? What happened to those guys?”

  Mike Mendez jumped out from behind one of the dusty chairs, a microphone in his hand. Chet got up off the floor. He carefully stepped around the pool of fake blood.

  “A waste of good ketchup,” Chet complained, licking his fingers.

  “I think that fixed Zack and his pals,” Mike said.

  “Great work, Mike,” Chet said. “That was even better than the robot you made for the science fair.”

  Frank, Joe, and Mike told Biff the whol
e story.

  “Mike tied the skeleton to a fishing rod and attached the line to the ceiling,” Frank explained.

  “Then all I had to do was let out the line to make it look like it was floating,” Mike went on.

  “And this hand is just a white glove with newspaper stuffed in the fingers,” Joe told Biff, pointing to it.

  “I stuck one of my old wind-up cars inside the glove to make it move,” Mike finished.

  “It looks pretty real,” Biff said, picking up the glove. Then he began to laugh.

  Frank, Joe, Chet, and Mike laughed, too. Biff wasn’t a creep. In fact, he was neat!

  “Well, the case of the missing baseball glove is officially closed,” Frank said.

  Joe turned to Biff. “By the way. Sorry I made fun of your name the other day. Sorry I punched you, too.”

  Biff frowned for a second. “Just don’t do it again.” He laughed and playfully punched Joe in the shoulder.

  “Thanks, you guys,” Chet said. “You really are good detectives.”

  “Yeah,” Mike added. “You’re so good that you need an official name. Let’s see. . . .”

  “How about the Hardy-har-har Brothers,” Chet said.

  “What do you think of the Clues Dudes?” Mike asked. “No, wait, I’ve got it—the Clues Brothers.”

  “The Clues Brothers,” Frank repeated.

  “Sounds cool,” Chet said.

  Frank and Joe nodded.

  “All right,” Joe said, giving his brother a high five. “I think we’re going to like it here in Bayport.”

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A MINSTREL PAPERBACK Original

  A Minstrel Book published by

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  Copyright © 1997 by Simon & Schuster Inc.

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  Front cover illustration by Thompson Studio

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