Gratefully Jason took the scroll. Crackers stretched his neck to peck the shiny gold ribbon wrapped around it.
“And here’s something from me,” Plunderin’ Pete told Jason. “A treas-arrrgh bag filled with more pirate booty!”
Pete handed Jason a red bag, a skull-and-crossbones design splashed on the front. “And rememb-arrrgh. Watch out for the notorious Captain Scurvydog!”
Jason shot Frank and Joe a grin. He then looked at Plunderin’ Pete and said, “Thanks, but I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Don’t believe in ghosts?” Plunderin’ Pete declared, his smile turning into a frown. “Well . . . shiver me timbers!”
“Uh-oh,” Crackers squawked. “Arrrk!”
Holding his prizes, Jason ran off the stage. “I won, I won!” he shouted happily as he raced toward Frank and Joe. Chet had already left to say hi to his sister.
“Congrats, dude!” Frank said.
“You and Crackers rocked the contest!” Joe exclaimed.
“You mean stole the show!” Reilly snapped as she stormed over. “Pets should not have been in the contest!”
“Jason and Crackers won fair and square, Reilly,” Frank said.
Reilly narrowed her eyes directly at Jason. “Who wants a haunted treasure map anyway?” she demanded. “Say hello to the ghost of Captain Scurvydog, Jason!”
Jason’s eyes popped wide open as Reilly huffed off.
“Don’t listen to what Reilly said, Jason,” Frank said.
“Yeah,” Joe said, “You don’t believe in ghosts anyway, right?”
“Right,” Jason said slowly. He then turned to the brothers and said, “Tomorrow’s Saturday. Why don’t you come to my house then and help me dig up the treasure chest?”
“We’re there!” Joe exclaimed.
“Thanks, Jason,” Frank said.
Joe wanted to peek inside the pirate treasure bag, but Jason spotted his parents and ran off.
“Dude, we’re digging for buried treasure tomorrow,” Frank told Joe excitedly. “What do you say about that?”
“Two words,” Joe declared. “Pirates ahoy!”
“Sounds like the Pirate Palooza was a real lollapalooza,” Fenton Hardy said, placing a pile of dirty dinner dishes on the kitchen counter.
Frank rinsed the dishes while Joe loaded the dishwasher. They’d spent most of dinner talking about the Pirate Palooza and the Talk Like a Pirate Contest.
“It was awesome, Dad,” Frank said, scraping pasta sauce off a dish. “You should have seen Jason and Crackers’s comedy act. It brought down the house!”
“Speaking of house,” Joe said, looking up from the dish he was about to load. “Mom, do you know anything about the house you sold to Jason’s family?”
Laura Hardy was a real estate agent. She knew about most of the houses in Bayport. “Only that it has three bedrooms, an eat-in kitchen,” she said, “plus a huge backyard perfect for gardening.”
“Was it also built where an old pirate inn stood hundreds of years ago?” Frank asked. “That’s what the Junior Diggers told Jason.”
“Why don’t I research the house when I’m back at work?” Mrs. Hardy said. “I’ll let you guys know.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Joe said.
“So what time is your big buried-treasure dig tomorrow?” Mr. Hardy asked.
“Good question, Dad,” Frank said after trading shrugs with Joe. “We forgot to ask Jason.”
Mrs. Hardy held out a small red book she used for work. “The Wangs’ number should be in here,” she said. “Why don’t you give Jason a call?”
Joe took the book, found the Wangs’ phone number, and dialed it on the kitchen phone. After three rings Jason picked up and said hello.
“Hey, Jason,” Joe said cheerily. “So what time should Frank and I drop by tomorrow—”
“Don’t!” Jason’s voice snapped.
“Huh?” Joe shot Frank a puzzled look. Quickly he put the phone on speaker and asked, “Don’t what, Jason?”
“Don’t come tomorrow,” Jason blurted frantically. “I’m not digging for treasure—any treasure!”
Frank leaned toward the phone and asked, “What do you mean you’re not digging for treasure?”
The brothers waited for Jason’s answer. Instead they heard a click. Jason had hung up!
Chapter 3
SHIVERY DELIVERY
The next morning Frank and Joe headed to the Wangs’ house. They still had no clue why Jason had canceled the dig. When they reached Jason’s house, they found him standing on the porch next to Crackers’s cage.
“Eat ’em up, eat ’em up!” Crackers squawked as Jason squeezed cut-up celery sticks through the cage bars.
“I had a feeling you’d come over today,” Jason said to the Hardys. “I told you guys, the dig is off.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell us why,” Joe said.
“What’s up?” Frank asked. “Don’t you want to dig up your prize?”
“I want to dig,” Jason insisted. “But someone else doesn’t want me to.”
“Who?” Joe asked. “Your mom? Your dad?”
Jason turned away from the cage, looking nervous. “It was the ghost,” he said in almost a whisper. “The ghost of Captain Scurvydog!”
Frank and Joe stared wide-eyed at Jason. Had they just heard what they thought they’d heard?
“What makes you think it’s a ghost, Jason?” Frank asked slowly.
“And don’t leave out a thing,” Joe added.
Jason stepped away from Crackers’s cage toward Frank and Joe. “Last night my parents took me out for pizza to celebrate my win,” he explained.
“Pepperoni?” Joe asked.
“Mushroom and cheese,” Jason replied. “When we got back home, my parents went inside, but I stayed out here to say hi to Crackers.”
Jason shook his head as he added, “The moment I got near the cage, I could tell that Crackers . . . had gone crackers.”
“What do you mean?” Frank asked.
“He started singing a song I never taught him,” Jason said. “It sounded like—”
Before Jason could explain, Crackers began to sing, “Windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys. When the wind blows, we’re all together, boys. Raak!”
“That’s it!” Jason said. “That’s the song!”
“Sounds like an old pirate song to me,” Frank said. “Are you sure you never taught Crackers the song, Jason?”
“Sure I’m sure,” Jason insisted. “Who else could teach an old pirate song to Crackers but the ghost of an old pirate?”
“Anybody could have taught him that song, though,” Frank answered.
“Sure,” Joe agreed. “Someone could have walked up to his cage on the porch while you and your parents were at the pizza place.”
Jason shook his head and said, “There’s more.”
“More?” Joe and Frank asked at the same time.
“I
