us.
The flying hatchet glinted in the sun. The blade was razor sharpâand it was heading right for Katie.
âLook out!â I shouted. âDuck!â
Katie didnât move. It was like she was frozen to the spot.
The hatchet whipped through the air, aiming for the place between her eyes.
It was too late. I couldnât save her.
From a long way off I heard Sally scream.
31
There was nothing anyone could doâshe was doomed!
Then, just as the flying hatchet was about to bury itself in Katieâs head, it veered sharply to the side.
Now it was headed straight for meâmoving with the speed of a bullet!
No time to dodge out of the way.
I couldnât take my eyes off the gleaming blade as it came closer and closer, tumbling end over end.
Then suddenly it vanished.
I felt the whisper of the whirling blade as it passed before my eyes, but it never touched me. It had disappeared into thin air!
I shook my head, dazedâand saw the hatchet buried to the hilt in the ground an inch from my foot.
Sally came running and threw her arms around me, sobbing. âLeave the tree alone!â she cried. âDonât touch the cherry tree!â
âWe wonât; donât worry,â I said, my voice shaking from the close call.
Katie was still vibrating with fear. When she got her voice back she said, âBad idea. I was wrong, I admit it.â
âBobby says donât hurt the tree!â
âWe wonât. Tell him we wonât, okay?â
Sally looked up at Katie. âYou have to promise,â she said.
âOkay,â said Katie, raising her voice. âI promise we wonât touch your precious tree!â
With Sally urging us on, we left the backyard and returned to the front porch. When Katieâs nerves had calmed, she made a pitcher of lemonade and brought the tray out to the porch.
âWhew!â she said, taking a seat. âThat was a close call.â
I sipped the lemonade and said, âHe could have killed us.â
Katie nodded. âCould have, but he didnât. The ghost was trying to give us a message. He wants us to save him, right?â
I nodded. âExcept we donât know how.â
âIâve got another idea,â said Katie. âYouâre gonna love it.â
âYour last idea wasnât so hot,â I pointed out.
âThis is better,â she said. âMuch better.â
She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out the old photograph. âSee this? Bobby and his mother, right?â
âI guess so,â I said.
âHe showed it to us for a reason,â said Katie. âI think I know why. Iâll tell you my theory, but first we have to go down into the cellar.â
That made me spill the lemonade.
âNo way,â I said.
Katie made a face and put her hands on her hips. âWhat are you afraid of?â she demanded.
âOh, nothing much,â I said. âJust dying.â
32
Outside it was a bright summer day. Youâd never know it down here, in the dark.
In the cellar shadows drank up all the light.
I couldnât believe I was down here again.
My skin crawled with dread but Katie didnât seem to sense anything strange.
âThis place could do with a good cleaning,â she said as we reached the bottom of the stairs. âI bet it wouldnât take more than a day to clear out all this junk. Put a couple more lights in and your dad could turn it into a really nice workroom.â
âWeâre not staying that long,â I said.
âNow whereâs that box?â she said, pawing through the piles of old junk. âI saw a box of old clothes down here somewhere.â
While she was searching I swept my flashlight beam behind the stairs to make sure nothing was lurking.
âI know this will work,â Katie was saying. âWhy else would Bobby have showed us that picture? If his mother wasnât in Europe she could have saved