“That’s exactly what I asked, Kathleen. The only Joe I know is that dreadful Joe Pompilli.”
“Someone must have called the wrong number.”
“I guess so,” Judy admitted doubtfully. “It gave me an ugly start though. What time is it?”
“A little past midnight,” Kathleen said, looking at her wristwatch. “What a night! All we need to make it complete is a little flute music!”
The switching on of a light had disturbed the others in the cottage. Miss Ward came in from the bedroom and then Virginia and Ardeth, the latter groggy with sleep.
“What now?” she mumbled. “Another ghost?”
Judy explained about the telephone.
“Those Lone Tree Scouts!” Virginia exclaimed indignantly. “They’re playing another joke on us! Trying to pretend that Joe Pompilli is calling!”
“It wasn’t anyone from Pine Cone Camp,” Judy said, her face serious. “Whoever called was a man.”
“It must have been someone who dialed a wrong number,” Kathleen insisted. “I’m in favor of forgetting the whole business, and going to bed. If we don’t get some sleep we’ll all be wrecks tomorrow.”