Free The Pinstripe Ghost by David A. Kelly Page B

in their wetbathing suits, they scrolled through the pages.
    “There’s not a lot on baseball ghosts,” Kate said. “But there’s lots of information on regular, everyday ghosts.”
    She ran a search on the most common signs of ghosts. Usually people heard the sound of footsteps, felt cold air, or smelled strange smells. Sometimes doors or windows opened or closed by themselves. Sometimes objects moved around on their own.
    “That’s pretty spooky. At least we know what to look for tomorrow,” Mike said. “But now I’m hungry! Winning all those swimming races really tired me out.”
    “You mean watching
me
win all those races, don’t you?” Kate said. “Race you to dinner!”
    Mike and Kate woke up the next morning when they heard the hotel room door close.Mrs. Hopkins had just come in with a brown paper bag.
    “You should read the article in today’s paper,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “It’s about ghosts.” She emptied the bag onto the small round table near the window. Kate’s mom had bought a newspaper, some bagels, and orange juice from a nearby store.
    Kate opened the newspaper. The first story in the sports section was all about Mr. Robert Williams, his book, and the ghost of Yankee Stadium. Next to the story was a picture of Mr. Williams. He was tall and had a bushy black mustache.
    Mike poured a glass of orange juice and read the first few paragraphs of the newspaper story. “See?” he said. “Mr. Williams says that the ghost is real. I’ll bet he’s hoping the Yankees will hire him to look into it.”
    Kate helped herself to a bagel. She spread it with butter. “Maybe we should ask
him
about the ghost,” she said.
    “Don’t be so sure he’ll help you,” Mrs. Hopkins said. “Mr. Williams is a good writer. But he sometimes tells tall tales to help sell his books.”
    After breakfast, Kate, Mike, and Mrs. Hopkins took a three-hour double-decker bus tour of New York City. Mike and Kate scrambled up to the open-air seats on the top of the bus. They saw the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, and Central Park.
    Mike was amazed at how big the city was. Tall buildings threw long shadows on the busy streets. Every time the bus turned a corner, Mike leaned over the top railing to look down. The bus was long, and the turns were tight. It always seemed as if the back endwould run over a newsstand or trash can.
    “I’m glad I’m not a bus driver here,” Mike said to Kate. “I’d be worried about smashing into something!”
    At the end of the tour, they got off the bus near Grand Central.
    “Okay, Mike,” Mrs. Hopkins said. She squinted against the afternoon sun. “We’re finally at Grand Central. What did you want to show us?”

    A steady crowd of workers hustled by them on their way to lunch. Mike studied the nearby buildings. Behind them was a big stone and steel archway to the train station. Right next door were a bank with shiny windows and a few clothing stores.
    “It’s here somewhere,” Mike said. He walked a few feet along the sidewalk toward the bank.
    “There it is!” he cried. He pointed at a large skyscraper. “The Grand Hyatt hotel.”
    Above them, the glass windows of the hotel towered out of sight.
    “Oh,” Kate said with a yawn. “A big hotel. Like we haven’t seen any others today.”
    “It’s not just another hotel, Kate,” Mike told her. “It’s
the
hotel for baseball. A lot of major-league teams stay here when they come to play. Baseball teams have been staying at this hotel even before it was the Hyatt.People hang around for autographs. They sometimes catch the players getting on or off the bus before or after games.”
    Kate looked at the hotel with more interest. “Why didn’t you say so?” she asked. “That’s kinda cool. Think we’ll see anyone?”
    “Not if we’re going to make it to the game on time ourselves,” Mrs. Hopkins said. She checked her watch. “Anyway, the team has probably already left. Now that we’ve seen the hotel,