Chapter 6

CHAPTER six, What gave Leo his idea was a story that every kid in San Francisco knew, a ghost story about a man named Corey Drew. He was a man who had struck it rich during the gold rush and moved to San Francisco. He'd lived in Rincon Hill, which was the fanciest part of San Francisco back then. He was all set to build himself a huge mansion, marry a fine lady, and start his new life. Then one night, walking up Rincon Hill, he was robbed and stabbed to death. His killer was never found. But old-timers said that his ghost still haunted the streets of that neighborhood. Leo wasn't afraid of Corey Drew. Some kids were scared to be on Rincon Hill after dark. There

was even a creepy rhyme about it, which every kid in San Francisco knew as well as the ABCs. On Rincon Hill, way up high There lived a man who would not die Corey Drew, Corey Drew Is watching you, is watching you. Corey Drew, Corey Drew See a crow and then you're through. Late at night, shine no light. Or you might just die of fright. Leo knew that Fletch and Wilkie weren't afraid of him or any other kids. They weren't afraid of the police. But just maybe, they were a little afraid of the ghost of Corey Drew. Leo's idea was to make Fletch and Wilkie believe that Corey Drew had come to get them. Leo had a tattered old hat of Papa's. He had a tin of flour, which he would rub on his face for a deathly look. He had a candle, which he would hold under his chin to give himself a ghostly glow. He'd talk in a low whisper. "Give me my gold!" he'd say.

With their eyes full of sleep, hopefully Fletch and Wilkie would believe that they really could be looking at a ghost. And they'd be just scared enough to hand over the gold nugget. Leo knew it was a crazy idea, for sure. But no crazier than scaring away a hungry grizzly with a cut-off snake rattle. It was past 4:30 A.M. when Leo set out for Rincon Hill. He'd decided to go close to sunrise. He needed darkness for his plan to work. But in case something bad happened with Fletch, Leo wanted there to be some people out on the streets. He'd know right away if Fletch and Wilkie were falling for his trick. And if they didn't, he'd have to get away quickly. But Leo didn't see a soul as he walked through the narrow streets up toward Rincon Hill. He heard some curses from the alleys — gamblers, probably. A baby's cry sounded from an open window. A milk wagon rattled by. But the streets were deserted.

Except for the dogs. They seemed to be everywhere Leo looked. Darting in and out of doorways, sprinting across the streets, shivering against buildings. Their howls and cries filled the air. Aaaaaoooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Aaaaaoooooooooooooooooooooooooo! He'd never heard such a sound before. He wondered what was upsetting the dogs. Papa had said that Grandpop always listened to the cries of wolves. "They always know when there's danger around." Did the dogs know something that Leo didn't? Were they trying to tell him he should run home? Don't be stupid, Leo told himself. Maybe the dogs howled like this every night when Leo was fast asleep. He was letting the darkness get to him. He reminded himself of something Papa always said: Brave people got spooked all the time. What made them brave was that they didn't let their fear stop them. Leo thought of the noises Grandpop would have heard in the Rocky

Mountains — the screams of mountain lions and the screeches of owls, gunshots of bandits and murderers. Had Grandpop let those sounds scare him off? Heck no! He'd kept moving forward. And so did Leo. Rincon Hill wasn't fancy anymore. Most of the big mansions had been turned into boardinghouses. Other streets were lined with little wooden houses, all crammed together like teeth in a crooked smile. Leo reached the corner of Essex and Folsom, and saw a beaten-up building. The roof was half caved in. The huge chimney loomed against the black sky. The front window was shattered and the front door was hanging off its hinges. Was this the place? It had to be, he decided. The other buildings were just regular houses. Leo stood on the steps, knowing that he could lose his nerve any second. He took a deep breath, pushed aside the front door, and slipped in.

He lit his candle and held it in front of him. He'd always imagined Fletch and Wilkie's hideout would be like a pirate den. He pictured velvet couches and fine rugs stolen from mansions on Nob Hill. But the place was a dump. There were broken chairs and tables piled in one corner and garbage heaped in the other. The air was cold and damp, and it stunk like trash and rats. He saw two shapes sprawled across the floor, at the back of the saloon. Leo crept closer. It was Fletch and Wilkie, fast asleep. They didn't even have an old horse blanket to share. They had covered themselves with newspapers. Amazing, Leo thought. This place was worse than his little room at the boardinghouse. He looked around, hoping that maybe he'd see his gold nugget. There was a dead mouse lying stiffly near Wilkie's foot. But no gold.