Ghost Stories Read Online Free PDF

was to stay by his master’s side and protect him from evil. Whenever anyone disturbed Simbu or whatever he was guarding, terrible things would happen.
    Two Simbu dolls had been found in Haiti and had been sold to museums. In both cases, the people who had discovered them had died soon thereafter under very mysterious circumstances—and not pleasantly. Not only that, but strange things occurred in the museums. Water pipes burst; heavy plaster fell from ceilings and smashed glass cases; a fire broke out. The problems did not stop until the Simbus were taken back to where they had come from.
    Soon Frank and Joe were on their way to the lobby to meet their father. Frank carried a briefcase with several documents for the famous investigator that he had picked up from a law firm in Atlanta.After they had greeted one another, they went out into the street where Mr. Hardy hailed a taxi.
    â€œTake us to the Green Dragon, please,” he told the driver.
    â€œWhat!” Frank exploded.
“Where
are we going?”
    â€œA restaurant not far from here,” Mr. Hardy said. “I’m sure you’ll like it. They have great seafood.”
    The boys said no more until they were seated at a corner table in the restaurant. Then they told their father about their experience in the afternoon.
    â€œA man with one blue eye, with a white car?” Mr. Hardy mused. “Well, that’s no secret. I know who she’s talking about.”
    â€œYou do?” Frank was flabbergasted.
    â€œHis name is Pierre Buffon,” Mr. Hardy explained. “He wears a white eye patch and drives a white Mercedes. He’s one of the most cold-blooded cutthroats in this hemisphere.”
    â€œOh, great,” Joe said. “Just the guy we want to meet.”
    â€œI’ve tangled with him several times,” Mr. Hardy went on. “But he’s a slippery customer. Just when you think you have him nailed, he slips through your net, or the evidence you had evaporates and you’re left with nothing while he skips off with the loot. He’s a master thief, you see. But I also suspect him of having taken many lives in the course of his work.”
    â€œWhat does he specialize in?” Frank inquired.
    â€œAntiques,” his father answered. “Sometimes he holds them for ransom. Other times he sells them to unscrupulous collectors, who are too greedy to carethat they can never exhibit them publicly because they would be recognized as stolen goods.”
    â€œThe fortune-teller mentioned Simbu,” Frank said. “He’s an antique. It all fits in.”
    Mr. Hardy nodded. “I know about that deadly little rascal,” he said. Then he frowned. “But Buffon is a superstitious person. He’d stay away from anything having to do with a curse.”
    â€œIt’s so crazy,” Joe put in. “Do you really believe in that woman’s prediction?”
    Mr. Hardy shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps she really sensed something that could happen. We’ll find out, I suppose.”
    â€œThe fact that you took us to the Green Dragon makes me tend to believe in her,” Joe sighed. “After all, you knew nothing about what happened this afternoon.”
    â€œIn that case,” Frank said, “my theory is that Buffon got hungry. Maybe he couldn’t resist the Simbu despite his superstition.”
    Joe paid no attention. He stared over his brother’s shoulder, his eyes wide with surprise. Frank followed his brother’s gaze and almost gasped.
    â€œIt’s him!” he whispered. “The man with one blue eye!”
    Mr. Hardy didn’t have to turn his head. Pierre Buffon came right up to their table. “Monsieur Hardy, how pleasant to see you again,” he said in an oily, unpleasant voice.
    â€œIt’s not a pleasure to see you, Buffon,” the detective replied. “What do you want?”
    â€œI was occupying this table with some