Ghost Stories by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page A

strongest oxen in the world!”
    Frank chuckled. “Good thing we rented a four-wheel-drive car and have all our camping gear plus plenty of food and water. This is going to be quite an excursion!”
    Suddenly Joe groaned. “It’s starting to rain!” he exclaimed. “You know what that means. The earth is so dry and packed that it doesn’t absorb water easily. Pretty soon we’ll have roaring rivers of flood water coming down these mountains.”
    He knew from experience that in that part of the world it only rained a few times a year, and when it did, it often turned into a cloudburst that resulted in floods.
    Already the boys noticed animals rushing for higher ground. Deer, skunks, and other furry creatures were moving out of the water’s path. The roadquickly turned into twin streams following the ruts.
    The car’s windshield wipers were working furiously but could hardly keep up with the drenching downpour. Frank was squinting, trying to see through the sheets of water that pounded them. Suddenly, as they came atop a rocky rise, he stepped on the brakes in surprise.
    â€œJoe! There’s a light up ahead!” he cried out.
    â€œIt—it’s swinging!” Joe said hoarsely. “Just as those people described it.”
    â€œAnd after telling their story, they disappeared and were never heard of again,” Frank added. He had stopped the car and the boys stared into the distance.
    â€œHey, wait a minute!” Joe said. “We don’t know what that light up ahead is and whether it’s even near Flaming Rock. Let’s just keep our wits together, shall we?”
    Frank chuckled dryly and accelerated again. “Right.”
    But soon he jumped on the brakes once more. “Joe—take a look at that sign!” he gulped.
    In the beam of the headlights, the boys stared at a battered piece of wood with words carved into it. It read “Flaming Rock, Ariz.—Pop. 434.”
    â€œFour hundred and thirty-four men, women, and children, and all of them have disappeared,” Joe said.
    â€œMaybe we’ll find them,” Frank tried to joke. “I wonder what they’d look like after all those years.”
    â€œWell,” Joe said, “now that we’re here we can’t back out. Let’s investigate the swinging light.”
    The rain had died down a little and so had thewind. Frank and Joe took their flashlights out of the glove compartment and left the car. In the drizzle they soon saw the outlines of buildings.
    â€œThere it is, the town of Flaming Rock,” Frank said as he beamed his light around.
    â€œI see the hotel with the tower,” Joe said. “And the light is still swinging.”
    â€œWe’ll have to climb up to see if someone’s doing it,” Frank said bravely.
    The young detectives walked up to the hotel porch and entered the lobby. Without stopping to look around, they took two steps at a time to the second floor and then to the roof. They passed no one on the way.
    When they arrived, the lantern swinger, if he had ever existed, was gone. The lantern was there, but the light was out.
    Frank touched the glass. “It’s still hot!” he cried out.
    Chills went down the boys’ spines. “Now what?” Joe asked.
    â€œWe’ll go down again and look for the person who swung this lantern,” Frank said with determination. “He or she has to be somewhere.”
    The Hardys retraced their steps and searched the hotel, calling out as they went. But there was no answer. And just like the prospector who had been there before them, they found everything in place. Clothes hung in some of the rooms. Beds were covered with clean sheets. In the kitchen, food was still cooking and bubbling on stoves with fires burning!
    Frank and Joe looked at each other in disbelief.Too shaken to speak, they walked through the hotel lobby and saw a cigar butt smoldering in an