Read The Home Run Kid Races On for Free Online

surprise. “What else is there for me to learn?”
    Mr. Teacy’s good humor vanished. “There is always something to be learned!” he said. “Sure, your bunting has improved, but
     you haven’t even done the most important part!”
    Syl took a long drink from his water bottle. “And what’s that?”
    Mr. Teacy rolled his eyes. “Beating the throw to first base! If you can’t do that, every bunt will be a sacrifice, won’t it?”
     He threw his hands in the air and went to talk to Mr. Baruth.
    Sylvester knelt down to put his water bottle back into his bag. As he did, he saw the old camera he’d stashed there earlier.
     His heart started pounding. He glanced up at the two ballplayers. They were standing together on the mound. Neither was looking
     in his direction.
    Now’s my chance
, Syl thought. He pulled the camera from the bag.
I can get both of them in the same photo. Just one shot, and I’ll have proof of their existence!
    Slowly, so as not to attract attention, he lifted the camera to his eye and centered the men in the viewfinder. With one push
     of a button, he snapped the photo.
    Click!
    The sound was like a gunshot to his ears. He dropped the camera into his bag, certain the men must have heard its click. Mr.
     Teacy didn’t seem to notice anything. Mr. Baruth, on the other hand, shifted his gaze to stare at Syl.
    Syl’s mouth turned dry.
Did he see me take the picture? What will he say—or do?
    Mr. Baruth muttered something to Mr. Teacy. Mr. Teacy turned. He didn’t look at Syl, however, but at something behind him.
    Sylvester spun around just as a biker barreled around the corner. It was Snooky Malone!
    “You!” Syl cried. “What are
you
doing here?”

10
    S nooky dropped his bike and hurried toward Syl. “I know you don’t want me to shadow you,” he said. “In fact, I almost couldn’t
     because I didn’t know where you’d gone. I called your house, and your mom said you were at bunting practice. But the tee-ball
     league has the field. Then I remembered this place.”
    “What made you think I’d come here?” Syl wanted to know.
    Snooky shot Syl a confident look. “You had a peculiar expression on your face when standing in this old ball field the other
     day. It’s an expression I’ve seen before. You’ve had another encounter from the beyond, haven’t you?” He kicked at a weed.
     “Just my luck to get here too late to see the ghost.”
    Syl knew then that Mr. Teacy and Mr. Baruth had vanished. He gritted his teeth in frustration. He’d hoped to spend more time
     with Mr. Baruth. But unless Snooky left, that wasn’t going to happen. With a sigh, he zipped up his bag. “There’s nothing
     to see here, Snooky,” he said.
    Snooky didn’t look convinced. “Nothing to see here
now,
” he amended. He held his hands out toward the field as if testing the air. “But I sense a cosmic energy here. If we stick
     around, I bet your ghost will return.”
    “Bet anything you like,” Syl said. “I’m leaving.”
    Snooky’s shoulders slumped. “No point in my staying then,” he said, his voice thick with disappointment. “You’re the key that
     unlocks the door to the other side. I could knock until my knuckles are raw. Without you, that door just won’t open.”
    Syl bit his lip. He hated seeing his friend upset, but what could he do? He didn’t control who saw the ghosts.
    Or did he? He blinked. If the photo he’d taken came out, he could show it to Snooky. It wouldn’t be the same as seeing the
     real thing, but it was better than nothing. And he owed his friend at least that much. After all, Snooky was the only one
     of his buddies who truly believed in his mysterious ballplayers.
    I’ll drop off the film on the way home,
he decided,
and pick it up later tonight. If the photo is good, I’ll call Snooky to come see it.
He laughed to himself.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll call the newspapers, too!
    “Cheer up, Snooky,” he said, slinging a leg over his bike. “Just