“I’ve never seen it open.”
“I guess that’s because he hasn’t opened it up since we were big enough to remember,” Ronnie said.
“My pa was talking about it the other night. He said it’s supposed to be haunted. You believe that, Ronnie?”
Ronnie thought it over. “Maybe, maybe not.” He wouldn’t let Bill know how he really felt. Grandfather never seemed to want to talk about the building, so perhaps there was something that he wanted to hide. Of course, Ronnie had heard the stories from others, about how his great-great-grandfather Ezra had killed someone in the office building and had robbed the Glassworks of money. No two people told the same story, and Ronnie had decided not to believe any of them.
“I’d sure like to get inside,” Bill repeated.
The old office stood back from the cobblestone road. Two giant sentinel pines towered over the roof, dwarfing the building and the sapling hemlocks and pines that crowded close to its sides.
“Race you to it!” Bill yelled suddenly and started down the narrow path from the cobbled road.
Ronnie knew he couldn’t outrun Bill with his longer legs, but he’d sure try anyway. Gasping for breath, Ronnie reached his friend, who had dropped to the ground and stretched himself out in a nest of last year’s leaves just in front of the padlocked door. Ronnie threw himself down beside Bill.
They lay there for a few minutes catching their breaths. Then Bill got up and began to hunt around on the ground. He found a rock and brought it over to the door.
“What are you aiming to do?” Ronnie asked.