A half-rotted dock extended for some distance out into the stream. The girls noticed an elderly man in blue overalls tying up his rowboat after a fishing expedition.
“Good morning,” Judy said pleasantly as the girls wandered over. “How’s the fishing?”
Straightening up, the old man shoved a soiled white cap at a rakish angle over his shaggy white hair.
“Mornin’ to you,” he greeted the girls jovially. “The fishin’? Nary a bite! Blast my timbers, it’s a waste of a man’s time to blister his skin out in the sun on this old river. I’m slingin’ my hook for today.”
Moving stiffly, the elderly man began to unload his fishing equipment from the boat. Judy and Kathleen reached down to help him.
“Right handy mates ye be,” he remarked, well pleased by their attention. “Don’t recollect seein’ you gals hereabouts before. Tourists?”
“We’re Girl Scouts,” Judy explained. “We’re staying at Pine Cone Camp. Because of a mix-up there over reservations, some of us have been sleeping at Calico Cottage.”
“Calico Cottage? Well, bash my binnacles!”
“It’s a lovely cottage,” Ardeth contributed. “The only trouble is, it seems to have a ghost.”
“A musical ghost who plays a flute at night,” added Virginia.