Free Ghost Town by Annie Bryant Page B

chills and followed Avery inside the jail.
    â€œLook! Wanted posters. Yup, Sheriff. He’s a right orn’ry cuss!” Avery joked in her best western drawl.
    Charlotte gazed back through the sole narrow window of the jail at the gray light of the street. “Come on, Avery. It’s getting dark and the snow’s not letting up one bit. We’d better find shelter before it’s pitch black.”
    â€œLet’s go, girls,” Mr. Ramsey called, poking his head into the jail.
    â€œCan we explore later? Please?!” Avery asked
    â€œWe’ll see,” Mr. Ramsey said, ushering both girls out into the snowy street.
    â€œThere it is,” he pointed out after they had walked another block. “The Hotel de Paris.”
    â€œ
C’est magnifique
,” Charlotte said. “
Quelle surprise!
To find a slice of Paris here in the Old West . . .”
    â€œParisian culture was very popular back when this old town was founded,” Lissie told them.
    â€œHope this hotel has some vacancies,” Maeve kidded.
    â€œThe whole town is vacancy central,” Avery marveled.
    Something’s odd about this place
, Charlotte thought as she looked up at the gilded letters painted on the semicircular window above the door of the hotel. Then it hit her—it was quiet. There were no shutters crashing against the side of the building, no doors banging in the wind. The hotel seemed oddly secure and intact compared to the run-down condition of the buildings nearby.
    Charlotte half-expected the door to be locked when her father tried it, but it opened right away. Quiet surrounded them as they entered the hotel. Mr. Ramsey shut the door behind them.
    It was still cold, even inside. They could see their breath as they talked, but at least it was warmer than being in the wind outdoors.
    Mr. Ramsey fished around in his backpack and pulled out a flashlight. The old chairs in the lobby were covered with sheets, making them look like squat, fat ghosts.
    â€œThis place looks like someone’s been here recently,”Lissie remarked to Mr. Ramsey, pointing to a kerosene lantern on the check-in desk. “Look,” she gestured to a box of kitchen matches beside the lantern.
    â€œDo you know how to light one of those things?” Avery asked.
    â€œI do,” Lissie said, taking a match and striking it on the side of the box. She lifted the glass shade of the lamp and carefully lit the wick inside.
    It glowed dimly at first, then lit up with a cheery brightness in the gloom.
    Lissie cranked the small wheel on the side of the lamp and trimmed the wick back to create a pleasant glow.
    â€œLook,” Lissie said as she lifted the lamp from the desk. As Charlotte leaned over to see what Lissie was talking about, she could see distinct handprints and fingerprints on the dusty desk top.
    â€œEeeek!” Maeve said, pointing at some tiny footprints in the dust next to dark, rice-shaped droppings. “Is that what I think it is?”
    â€œWhat?” Avery leaned forward to get a closer look.
    â€œWhat do you think?!” Maeve looked like she wanted to jump on the closest chair or couch she could find. “It’s mouse prints! There’s no way I’m staying in any mouse-infested place!”
    â€œYou want to stay out there?” Avery asked, pointing to the blowing snow outside.
    The thick, wavy panes of glass made it seem as if the snow was already piled up to the windows.
    â€œThere has to be somewhere else,” Maeve pondered, putting a hand to her forehead.
    â€œThis is the most solid structure I saw in town,” Mr. Ramsey said.
    â€œI’m
sure
someone has been here recently,” Lissie repeated. “All the shutters are intact and the handprints . . .” she gestured toward the desk again. “This place is secure and definitely not abandoned.”
    â€œI can’t imagine anyone living so removed from civilization. That would be a terribly