Ghost Stories by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

then at the bow of the ship.
    Joe was galvanized. “He’s telling us to swim to that ship! It’s near enough, so let’s go!” He mounted the rail and prepared to dive into the ocean.
    Frank took Joe by the elbow. “Wait a minute. Let’s make sure that that’s really what he means.”
    They turned to face their strange escort once more, but the man had vanished! Speechless, the boys looked over the stern again. The ship was gone, too!
    The Hardys were thunderstruck. Joe climbed down from the rail.
    â€œAre we seeing things?” he asked. “Are we suffering from hallucinations?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Frank replied.
    A voice suddenly spoke behind them. “Mates, you are taking a big chance!”
    They whirled around. Orne stood there, his face worried. “I was on duty in the wheelhouse,” he explained. “That is how I saw you come on deck. I do not know how you escaped from the jail, but if you get caught, you will have a long swim home!”
    Joe was perplexed. “Did you see where that other sailor went?” he inquired.
    â€œWhat other sailor? You two are alone. There is no one else on deck with you and no one was here before.”
    â€œWhat about the ship following the
Samoa Queen?”
Frank asked.
    Orne looked at them as if they were insane. “There is no other ship. Now, go back below and rest. Langton will be coming on inspection anytime now. He better not see you up top!”
    Orne left and the Hardys quickly made their way back to their cell. The door swung open when Frank pulled it, but when he let it close behind them, it locked itself!
    â€œEven the door’s jinxed,” he muttered.
    The boys lay down on their bunks trying to sort out the weird events they had just been through.
    Joe was the first to speak. “That sailor must have been an apparition among ghosts!”
    Frank shuddered. “A phantom on a phantom ship. It’s crazy.”
    At that moment a terrific clap of thunder sounded overhead. The ship began to pitch and toss. Shouting could be heard on deck.
    Then Langton appeared below. “We are in a storm!” the first mate shouted. “We need every hand on deck!” He unlocked the door and gave the Hardys their orders. “Put on your foul-weather gear and get up top!”
    He raced off, and Frank and Joe ran to the sleeping quarters. They donned their oilskins, sou’westers, and rubber boots, then went upstairs.
    The sky was black and angry. Rain fell in torrents. A twisting wind created mountainous waves, causing the
Samoa Queen
to bob like a cork in a rushing river. Waves broke over the bow and sloshed across the deck.
    Captain Parker cupped his hands around his mouth and bawled orders into the raging storm. Some of the men responded by furling the sails so they wouldn’t catch the wind, while others battened down the hatches to prevent water from spilling in. Several crew members fought their way along the rails hand over hand to get from the bow of the ship to the stern.
    Langton came up from inspecting the hold. “We have sprung a leak!” he shouted.
    â€œTake Frank and Joe Hardy and plug it,” Parker yelled back.
    The boys went with the first mate. In the hold, they saw a split timber, allowing water to seep in from outside. A couple of inches had already collected on the floor.
    â€œFrank Hardy, get the pump from the locker and pump the water into that barrel in the corner,” Langton commanded. “Joe Hardy, help me plug the leak!”
    He produced a box of tools and a flat board that he held in place over the leak. Joe took a hammer from the box and began driving nails into the board. He worked rapidly and expertly, hitting the nails on the head with every swing of the hammer.
    When he finished, the board held the two sides of the split timber together, and the water stopped coming into the hold.
    â€œGood!” Langton complimented