Harrington turns off the phones and power on purpose,” said Benny.
“We’d better hurry,” Violet said. “We don’t have the Jeep to ride in and we must be in Tincup by sunset.”
Although that seemed like a lot of time, lunch had been late and they had to pack for the hike. It was after two-thirty when the Aldens set off on the potholed road.
The day was clear but very warm. Before they had walked far, the children were glad Jessie had told them to put on short-sleeved T-shirts and shorts. Stout walking shoes prevented twisted ankles and sore feet.
Soon they were panting as they climbed the steep mountain.
“I wish we had the Jeep,” Jessie said. “It was bouncy, but it got us to the trail a lot quicker!”
“I like walking,” Benny said. As always, he had the most energy. “You can see the plants and birds this way.”
Jessie checked her watch. Almost three-thirty. They had been walking for nearly an hour and they hadn’t reached the end of the road yet. She had forgotten how long the road was.
Suddenly Violet stumbled and cracked her knee on a rock.
“It’s nothing,” she told Henry, who gently felt the swelling.
“You might get a bruise,” he said. “Maybe we should stop. Walking on it could make it worse.”
“I’m okay,” Violet insisted. Her knee hurt only a little. She couldn’t let the others and Grandfather down.
“Are you sure?” asked Jessie, concerned. Of them all, Violet tended to be the most quiet.
Violet smiled gamely. “Positive.”
The children slowed their pace so Violet could keep up. It was after five when they reached the end of the potholed road.
“Here’s the old wagon trail,” Benny said.
It took them another thirty minutes to walk down the twisting road. By now, Violet’s knee had stopped hurting, but they still took it easy.
When they reached Tincup, the children stared at one another. As bravely as they had talked on the hike, their fears were back.
“We’re all scared,” Jessie said. “But this is for Grandfather, If he doesn’t know the truth, he could be making a mistake. And we owe it to Gert to save the land.”
“Jessie’s right,” said Violet. She drew in a deep breath. “The sun is nearly over the canyon. Let’s go catch the ghost.”
“It’s not a real ghost,” Henry said firmly. But he was as nervous as the others. Saying there were no ghosts and seeing one were two different things.
Together, the Aldens entered the silent ghost town. The wind had risen again, kicking tumbleweeds ahead of them. A loose shingle shrieked.
They decided to wait for full sunset by the dance hall, where Violet had seen the old crone’s face.
The sun dropped in a lazy arc till it touched the craggy ledge of the canyon.
And then they saw her.
She appeared from nowhere, gliding into the dusty street in her tattered gray dress, the gray shawl draped about her shoulders.
The Aldens stood rooted for a few seconds. Then Henry shouted, “Okay, guys. Let’s move!”
They ran then, with Jessie in the lead.
Jessie stared at the figure ahead of her. The Lady in Gray didn’t speed up or act as if she heard pounding feet behind her.
But Jessie didn’t see any shoes sticking out from under the hem of the gray dress. Was this Rose Payne, walking toward the sunset to meet her husband as she’d done for so many years? But she couldn’t let such thoughts take over. She had to catch this ghost.
Sprinting, Jessie pulled away from the others. She was beside the Lady in Gray now. The figure turned her face sharply away from Jessie.
Swallowing her fear, Jessie grabbed one thin arm and yanked the figure around.
Amazed, she gasped at the yellowed, wrinkled face surrounded by wisps of scraggly gray hair. The yellowed hand Jessie grasped felt horrible, but she didn’t let go.
Instead she reached up and pulled off the gray wig. The yellowed crone mask came off with it.
She found herself staring into the startled blue eyes of Marianne
“We’d better hurry,” Violet said. “We don’t have the Jeep to ride in and we must be in Tincup by sunset.”
Although that seemed like a lot of time, lunch had been late and they had to pack for the hike. It was after two-thirty when the Aldens set off on the potholed road.
The day was clear but very warm. Before they had walked far, the children were glad Jessie had told them to put on short-sleeved T-shirts and shorts. Stout walking shoes prevented twisted ankles and sore feet.
Soon they were panting as they climbed the steep mountain.
“I wish we had the Jeep,” Jessie said. “It was bouncy, but it got us to the trail a lot quicker!”
“I like walking,” Benny said. As always, he had the most energy. “You can see the plants and birds this way.”
Jessie checked her watch. Almost three-thirty. They had been walking for nearly an hour and they hadn’t reached the end of the road yet. She had forgotten how long the road was.
Suddenly Violet stumbled and cracked her knee on a rock.
“It’s nothing,” she told Henry, who gently felt the swelling.
“You might get a bruise,” he said. “Maybe we should stop. Walking on it could make it worse.”
“I’m okay,” Violet insisted. Her knee hurt only a little. She couldn’t let the others and Grandfather down.
“Are you sure?” asked Jessie, concerned. Of them all, Violet tended to be the most quiet.
Violet smiled gamely. “Positive.”
The children slowed their pace so Violet could keep up. It was after five when they reached the end of the potholed road.
“Here’s the old wagon trail,” Benny said.
It took them another thirty minutes to walk down the twisting road. By now, Violet’s knee had stopped hurting, but they still took it easy.
When they reached Tincup, the children stared at one another. As bravely as they had talked on the hike, their fears were back.
“We’re all scared,” Jessie said. “But this is for Grandfather, If he doesn’t know the truth, he could be making a mistake. And we owe it to Gert to save the land.”
“Jessie’s right,” said Violet. She drew in a deep breath. “The sun is nearly over the canyon. Let’s go catch the ghost.”
“It’s not a real ghost,” Henry said firmly. But he was as nervous as the others. Saying there were no ghosts and seeing one were two different things.
Together, the Aldens entered the silent ghost town. The wind had risen again, kicking tumbleweeds ahead of them. A loose shingle shrieked.
They decided to wait for full sunset by the dance hall, where Violet had seen the old crone’s face.
The sun dropped in a lazy arc till it touched the craggy ledge of the canyon.
And then they saw her.
She appeared from nowhere, gliding into the dusty street in her tattered gray dress, the gray shawl draped about her shoulders.
The Aldens stood rooted for a few seconds. Then Henry shouted, “Okay, guys. Let’s move!”
They ran then, with Jessie in the lead.
Jessie stared at the figure ahead of her. The Lady in Gray didn’t speed up or act as if she heard pounding feet behind her.
But Jessie didn’t see any shoes sticking out from under the hem of the gray dress. Was this Rose Payne, walking toward the sunset to meet her husband as she’d done for so many years? But she couldn’t let such thoughts take over. She had to catch this ghost.
Sprinting, Jessie pulled away from the others. She was beside the Lady in Gray now. The figure turned her face sharply away from Jessie.
Swallowing her fear, Jessie grabbed one thin arm and yanked the figure around.
Amazed, she gasped at the yellowed, wrinkled face surrounded by wisps of scraggly gray hair. The yellowed hand Jessie grasped felt horrible, but she didn’t let go.
Instead she reached up and pulled off the gray wig. The yellowed crone mask came off with it.
She found herself staring into the startled blue eyes of Marianne
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