“Wait!” Penny instructed the cabman. “Let’s see who it is.”
A moment later the figure emerged from the shadow cast by a giant tree. Penny was surprised to recognize Mose Johnson. The old colored man carried a basket on his arm and evidently had been doing a little late marketing at the crossroads store.
“Good evening, Mose,” Penny greeted him as he approached the cab.
“Evenin’, Miss Penny,” he beamed, pausing. “I’se suah astonished to see yo’ all out dis way. Has yo’ been lookin’ for dat ghost?”
“I’m afraid I have,” Penny admitted ruefully. “I’ve certainly had no luck.”
Mose shifted the market basket to his other hand. “Dat ole ghost ain’t been around so much lately,” he explained. “I comes by dis spot half an hour ago on my way to de sto’ to get some victuals. Dere wasn’t no ghost around den either. If dere had a been I’d have seen him, you kin be suah o’ dat. I was mighty skittish and ready to make mahself absent in about two shakes.”
“And you didn’t see a thing?” inquired Penny.
“Well now, I can’t rightly say dat,” Old Mose corrected. “I didn’t see no ghost but I did see a taxicab.”
“Ours, I suppose.”
“Not dis one, Miss. De cab I see was a yelleh one.”