CHAPTER 12

The cabin was about the same size as Mal’s grandmother’s toolshed, and somewhat hidden behind the long feathery branches of twisted pines that grew in the center of the island.

Whatever wood it was made of had wasted away to thin gray slats that barely touched, so you could see inside just by looking through the wall. The door, which might once have been white, but only shreds of paint remained, hung loosely on its last hinge, a rusted buckle that barely gripped the wood with a withered claw of a nail. The window was an empty grid except for a single jagged tooth of smoky glass that teetered in the frame.

Roanoke, with Ripley stacked on top of April and Bubbles squished on top of Jo, peeked through the door frame.

“Do we go in?” Mal asked.

“Looks abandoned,” April said.

“We came all this way,” Molly said, peering in. “And it doesn’t feel like anyone’s been here in a long time. Right? Are there Lumberrules for going into ghost cabins?”

“Probably,” April reasoned. “I’m pretty sure there’s a Lumberreason not to go into someone else’s cabin without—”

Mal pointed. “MY SOCKS!”

There, in a neat pile in the middle of the cabin’s single room, were several rows of stolen, folded socks. Green socks and blue socks. Orange socks. Superhero socks with lightning bolts on them.

“I feel like that’s probable cause,” April said, stepping inside.

“Wow.” Ripley whistled, looking at the pile. “Mal, you have a lot of socks!”

“I mean, I DID. Geez.” Mal kneeled next to the pile. “I guess I do now.”

“So.” Molly looked around. “I guess that solves part of the mystery. Except we still don’t know WHO took them.”

“Who took them and gave them back,” Ripley added. “Do we think this is the sock stealer’s house?”

Jo looked around the cabin. “You know, it looks small, but I think it’s close to the same size as our cabin.”

“No beds.” Ripley pointed at the empty space next to the wall.

“If it’s a ghost cabin,” Molly wondered, “do ghosts need beds?”

“We still don’t know it’s a ghost,” April pointed out, touching her finger to a dusty mirror that hung on one of the walls.

“Well, if it is ghosts . . .” Molly looked at the darkening skies outside the cabin door. “There’s one way to find out.”

Mal nodded. “We wait.”

Jo leaned up against the wall. “It’s going to take another hour for the sun to set. Get comfortable.”