“That suits me,” nodded Scoop.
A twinkle came into Bill’s eyes as he took the bag and hefted it.
“What have you got in it?” he questioned. “A gold brick?”
“A talking frog,” informed Scoop; and he gave a quick account of our adventures.
“Well, I swan!” exploded Bill, staring at us with admiring eyes. “If you hain’t the beatin’est kids I ever heard tell of. One time it’s a whispering mummy that you’re chasin’, and the next time it’s a rose-colored cat. Now it’s a talkin’ frog.”
Then the conversation turned to the ghost.
“Of course,” waggled Scoop, “I may be all wrong about the ghost’s identity.”
“I hope you hain’t,” Bill said, grim-like. “Fur I’d like to see this murder mystery cleared up. Anyway, we’ll soon find out who the ghost is,” and locking the frog in the office safe, he started heavily for the door, motioning for us to follow him. [[222]]