THE CRAZY PUZZLE ROOM
In the excited moments that immediately followed my tumbling entrance into the brick house, I panted out a story of what I had seen.
Scoop shook his head.
“Your imagination, Jerry. For no one ever saw a real ghost.”
I told him that it was no case of imagination.
“Then,” he concluded, “it was some one playing ghost.”
“But it had no arms or legs. And its eyes were hollow wells.”
“A make-up,” he waggled. Passing quickly to a window, he pressed his nose against the glass. “I can’t see anything.”
“Maybe,” spoke up Tom, “it was the spy.”
“If it was,” Scoop said quickly, “Peg will know about it.”