Read The Ghost of Ernie P. for Free Online Page B

where no one will ever see them again. Including me !
    Would that be enough? He thought of what Margo Muggin had said in those dreadful moments when they were alone in the living room. “I know why you came here,” she’d hissed. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll go while you can. Before it’s too late!”
    Hiding the evidence wasn’t going to solve this problem—not if Margo knew about the Top Secret Project. Probably Ernie had visited her himself, before he died. Maybe—Jeff groaned aloud—maybe he’d even told her that one of these days his best friend Jeffrey Keppel would stop in to “arrange the payoff.”

C HAPTER S EVEN
    â€œWhat will it be, your highness, meat loaf or pork chops?” Jeff’s mother asked. “Your wish is my command.”
    â€œEither one,” Jeff said. “It doesn’t matter.” He was trying to think of a place where he could hide the clippings.
    â€œPork chops, then,” Mrs. Keppel said in the same bright tone. “I’ll start them, while you run downstairs and get a jar of applesauce.”
    Jeff nodded and headed for the basement, glad to escape his mother’s determined cheerfulness. As usual, she knew when something was bothering him. He wished he could convince her that he wasn’t sick, but if he told her the truth, she’d be more worried than ever. He was pretty sure no one had written a book on what to do when your son started believing in ghosts.
    The fruit cellar was in the far corner of the basement. Jeff switched on the light and looked over the neat rows of fruits, vegetables, and jams. The applesauce was on a bottom shelf, and as he bent down it occurred to him that this might be a good place in which to hide the clippings. There was a box of empty jars in the corner. He took the envelope from his pocket, rolled it up, and pushed it into a jar. Then he slid the jar under the bottom shelf, as far back as it would go. If a mouse sneaked in and chewed up Ernie’s “evidence”—so much the better.
    His mother was talking on the telephone when he came back upstairs. She rolled her eyes at Jeff. “He just came in, Mr. Morgensen. Hang on a minute, please.”
    She held out the receiver, and Jeff backed away in a panic. What could the principal of Lakeview School want with him?
    â€œIt’s something about Ernie,” Mrs. Keppel mouthed. Reluctantly, Jeff took the phone and listened while Mr. Morgensen explained the reason for his call. He’d decided there should be a memorial service for poor Ernest Barber. It would have to be tomorrow, since that was the last day of school, and he knew Jeff would want to take part in it.
    â€œAfter all,” the principal said warmly, “you were Ernest’s best friend, Jeffrey. It would be just grand if you’d share some of your special memories of him.”
    Jeff shot a frantic glance at his mother. She smiled encouragingly.
    â€œI—I don’t think I can,” he said. “I’m sorry—”
    â€œOf course you can, Jeffrey,” Mr. Morgensen interrupted. Now there was a little less warmth in his voice. “There’s nothing to worry about, my boy. We’re all your friends, you know.”
    â€œI know, “Jeff said. “But, see, I can’t think of anything—”
    â€œTry, Jeffrey,” Mr. Morgensen said. “Try for your poor departed friend’s sake. Have something ready by one-thirty tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”
    There was a sharp little click, and the principal was gone.
    â€œHe wants me to talk about Ernie at a memorial service,” Jeff moaned. “I can’t do it.”
    Mrs. Keppel gave him a hug. “Of course you can, darling,” she said. “You mustn’t be afraid of showing your feelings. Let them out—that’s what all the books say. If you break down, people will understand that you miss