Free Dunc and the Flaming Ghost by Gary Paulsen Page A

this place is haunted, do you?”
    “The thought has crossed my mind.” Amos crossed his fingers and held them out in front of him. All the movies said crosses kept ghosts away. Or maybe it was vampires. Either way, he wasn’t going to take any chances.
    “Even if it was, what could a ghost do to you? Punch you a good one? His hand would go right through your face. Big deal.”
    “We’re not talking about any old ghost.We’re talking about the ghost of Blackbeard. I’ve heard he used to make people chew the insides of their cheeks off and blow bubbles with them like gum.”
    “The only thing we need to worry about is these rotten floorboards. They could collapse at any moment.”
    “And Blackbeard would get us. He’s probably waiting under them for us right now.” Amos flashed his crossed fingers at the floor.
    “Will you relax?” Dunc studied the room. “Do you have any idea how old this place is?”
    “I don’t care.”
    “There aren’t any wall outlets. It must have been built before electricity. I bet there isn’t any internal plumbing, either—maybe just a hand pump in the sink. Let’s see if we can find the kitchen.”
    Amos grabbed his shoulder before he had a chance to wander off. “No. Let’s just find Scruff and get out of here.”
    “Are you really afraid?”
    “I just want to get out of here.”
    Dunc shrugged his shoulders. “All right. Stay close.”
    He didn’t have to say that. Amos was draped over his back like a cloak.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Staying close. You said to stay close.”
    “You don’t have to stay
that
close.”
    “I just want to be sure I don’t lose you.”
    Dunc studied the room again. “If you were Scruff, where would you be?”
    “Upstairs. Every time I come in the house, Scruff growls and hides under my sister’s bed.”
    “I don’t see a staircase,” Dunc said. “Wait, there it is.”
    He pointed toward an old wooden case with an ornately carved banister. It climbed the far wall and ended at a doorway on the second floor.
    “Let’s go.” He led Amos across the room.
    “If you see a ghost, you’ll tell me, won’t you?”
    “There are no such things.”
    “Tell me anyway. I don’t want to get my head cut off just because you say there are no such things.”
    Dunc ignored him.
    “If we see a ghost,” Amos said, “so long, Scruff. I don’t care how heartbroken my sister is. I don’t care if she cries herself to sleep and drowns in her soggy pillow.”
    “We’re not going to see a ghost. Be careful going up these stairs. Make sure you step on the sides and not in the middle in case the boards are rotten. You go first.” He pushed Amos up the first step. It creaked loudly.
    “Here, doggy,” Amos tried to call. He was so scared, his voice squeaked. He stepped onto the second step. It creaked worse than the first. Dunc followed him.
    “Here, Scruff old boy.”
    Scruff came out on the landing above them. He took one look at Amos, growled, and trotted back into the darkness.
    “There he is,” Amos said. “I’ll just go up and—” He stopped. “Do you smell something burning?”
    “Burning?” Dunc sniffed. “Yeah, I do. What is it?”
    “Don’t ask me.”
    “
Why don’t you ask me?
” a loud voice boomed.
    A light appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs. Amos and Dunc froze. Solid.
    They heard heavy footsteps like thunder. When they looked up, they saw a huge man carrying a lantern. He was glowing white and had a hat pulled down over thick, greasy hair, and two lit matches, one sticking out of each side of his head. He looked at them and laughed. The laugh sounded like somebody breaking bones with an ax.
    “
Why don’t you ask me?
” He bellowed again.
    And the boys were gone.
    Dunc didn’t know how he made it outside, but his feet never touched the floor.
    Amos didn’t know how he made it, either. The only thing that Amos’s feet touched was Dunc’s back as he ran over him on his way down the stairs.
    They