Free Ghost Stories by Franklin W. Dixon

is,” Frank went on, “that stuff went out when kerosene came in. What’s happening here?”
    â€œI have no idea,” Joe replied. “But we’d better be careful until we find out.”
    He called a greeting to the sailors who were lounging in several of the bunks.
    They stared at him somberly without answering.
    â€œWe’re new here,” Joe went on in a friendly tone.
    The men still said nothing.
    â€œThey’re a cheerful lot!” the boy muttered. “Silent as the grave.”
    â€œAnd what about this ship?” Frank said. “It’s a phantom, just like these guys!”
    â€œI hope we don’t have to sail on the
Samoa Queen
forever,” Joe said with a shudder.
    Near them, an evil-looking sailor was working on his harpoon. He polished the wooden shaft and oiled the long steel blade. Then he took a file and sharpened the point, which had a tong curving backward like that of an enormous fish hook.
    Joe decided to make conversation. “That looks like a dangerous weapon,” he observed.
    â€œDangerous to whales, or my name is not John Corkin!” the man snapped. “And dangerous to landlubbers who think they are whalers!”
    Corkin was so hostile that Joe made no reply.
    Frank turned to the sailor on the other side, a grizzled veteran who looked friendlier. “What’s your name?”
    â€œOrne. I come from New Bedford. We are an old whaling family, we are.”
    Encouraged by Orne’s amiable demeanor, Frank continued the conversation. “What’s the real story of the
Samoa Queen?”
    Orne looked surprised. “Why, she is a whaling ship from Nantucket.”
    â€œWhere’s she bound?”
    â€œAround Cape Horn. If you do not know that, why did you sign aboard?”
    Before Frank cpuld reply, Joe intervened. “Whalingvoyages around the Horn go back to the nineteenth century,” he insisted.
    Orne looked puzzled. “Right you are, mate,” he said, “and this is the year 1850!”
    The Hardys were startled by the statement. Corkin, who had been listening, spoke sarcastically. “You two must be stupid if you do not know what year it is!” He laughed loudly.
    The other sailors except Orne joined in one by one until a mad cackle echoed through the ship like a chorus of witches.
    The Hardys were horrified by the grinning faces and weird laughter. They leaped to their feet.
    â€œWe know what time it is!” Joe exploded. “It’s time for us to jump ship!”
    Frank supported Joe wholeheartedly. “You can have the
Samoa Queen
and the whales!”
    Corkin glared savagely. Raising his harpoon, he hurled it at them.
    Frank and Joe ducked as the sharp weapon zoomed through the air over their heads and slammed into one of the ship’s timbers. The harpoon hung there, quivering under the rise and fall of the waves.
    â€œThat was a close call!” Joe gulped.
    â€œGet ready,” Frank warned. “Here they come!”
    Led by Corkin, the sailors rushed at the boys, who went into a protective karate stance and prepared to defend themselves. The crowd of grinning faces pressed in on them and a multitude of hands reached out.
    Just then a shout came from the deck. “Thar she blows! Off the starboard bow!”
    Langton appeared in the doorway. “The lookout sighted a whale!” he shouted. “Frank and Joe Hardy, up on deck! And bring your harpoons!”
    The men who had threatened the boys retreated sullenly. Frank and Joe walked through their ranks, reached the door, and hurried upstairs.
    It was still dark, but the sea was calmer and the ship moved slowly across choppy waves.
    With Captain Parker giving orders, a dozen men were getting a whaling boat ready for action. They lifted the vessel from its stanchions by means of chains and pulleys, and swung it over the side, where it hung suspended in the air.
    As the Hardys watched, Frank wondered aloud,