“Let us out,” I screeched, pounding on the hatch in the hope that the enemy would return and release us.
And now comes the weird part of my story—the beginning of the mystery.
“Where … are … you?”
The voice came from the other side of the hatch, a peculiar whispering voice.
“We’re under the deck,” cried Peg. “We’re locked in. Let us out. Please.”
I suddenly clutched my chum’s arm. [[25]]
“No!” I cried, in a panic of fear, “No!”
“What’s the matter, Jerry?”
“It’s a ghost,” I cried, crazy. “I saw it in my dream. I heard it. It’s a whispering ghost. Don’t let it in.”
“Ghost? You’re batty.”