Free Ghost Stories by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

“How can there be whaling off Barmet Bay?”
    Captain Parker heard him. “Barmet Bay?” he roared. “We have rounded Cape Horn and are now in the Pacific!”
    Impulsively Joe asked, “How could we reach Cape Horn in one night? Even a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier couldn’t move that fast!”
    â€œWhat is an ‘aircraft carrier’?” Parker demanded suspiciously. “And what does ‘nuclear’ mean?”
    Joe shrugged. “Nobody will know for a hundred years.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œThe twentieth century!”
    â€œYou must be crazy,” Parker muttered. “You make no sense.”
    Frank nudged Joe with his elbow, as if to say, “Easy! We don’t need any more trouble!”
    By now the whaleboat was ready to be manned. Sailors clambered in and took their places at the oars on either side. Langton stepped in amidships.
    â€œFrank Hardy, you will be the harpooner. Get in the bow,” the first mate said. “Joe Hardy, you will steer the boat, so you get in the stern behind the tiller.”
    When the boys were aboard, the men on the pulleys lowered the whaleboat into the water, and the oarsmen pulled away from the
Samoa Queen.
Joe followed Langton’s orders and worked the tiller back and forth to keep on course. Frank braced himself in the bow with the harpoon in his hand.
    â€œThere is the whale’s waterspout!” Langton cried. “Joe Hardy, veer to the left!”
    Joe moved the tiller. “I don’t see anything over there,” he declared.
    â€œThen you are no whaler! Follow my orders or you will walk the plank!”
    The boat continued to the left over the dark water. A single star peeped through the murky clouds overhead. The oars rose and fell rhythmically.
    â€œThis is the place,” Langton declared. “Frank Hardy, throw your harpoon!”
    Frank shook his head. “There’s no whale here!” he protested.
    â€œYes, there is! Throw your harpoon!” the first mate bawled at him.
    Frank hurled his harpoon deep into the water. Then he drew it in by the rope attached to it. Secretly, he was glad he hit nothing.
    Langton shook with fury. “You lost the whale! You let him get away!”
    Joe came to Frank’s support. “I didn’t see any whale, either.”
    â€œThen you steered the wrong way!” Langton shouted. “I will report you both to Captain Parker when we get back to the
Samoa Queen.
Circle the area. Maybe I will spot the whale again. And this time, Frank Hardy, you had better catch him!”
    Joe shifted the tiller and the oarsmen strained at the oars. Frank kept scanning the water in the bow. The boat moved around and around.
    Seeing no sign of the whale, Langton finally gave up and ordered a return to the
Samoa Queen.
The whaleboat was lifted aboard and replaced on its stanchions.
    â€œWe lost the whale!” the first mate reported to the captain. “The Hardys were responsible.”
    Parker was infuriated. “Lock them up!” he commanded.
    The boys were pushed downstairs and put into a barred cell used as the ship’s prison. Then the door banged shut and they were left alone. A whale-oil lantern illuminated two wooden bunks and a small table in the middle of the room. The brothers sat down and looked at each other.
    â€œThis is getting weirder and weirder,” Joe said. “We’re on a phantom ship, being held prisoner by a crew of ghosts!”
    â€œDone in by a ghost whale,” Frank added morosely.
    Joe pinched his lower lip. “Yet Langton said he saw the whale.”
    â€œIt’s his word against ours, Joe, and you know who Parker will believe. Besides, Langton’s a ghost himself! Why couldn’t he see a whale that isn’t there?”
    â€œWhat do you think they’ll do with us?” Joe asked.
    Frank shrugged and the Hardys fell silent. Both were thinking about