But when Pravin woke in the middle of the night, he found both his companions fast asleep. He looked at the window opposite. The moon must have risen an hour before, and the window was bathed in light. He turned round and looked at the window at their head. He stiffened. A chalk white face was staring through the bars. Two eyes glistened like diamonds. The forehead and cheeks were lined with wrinkles. Hair stood erect and thorn-like on the head. The shoulders and part of the chest he could see looked like a skeleton.

Pravin was so scared, he dived under his bedsheet. ?The ghost!? he muttered to himself. He felt he was pespiring, and cold as ice at the same time. He wanted to cry out, but could not utter a word.

A moment later he gathered courage, saying to himself, ?What will my friend say? Faster Fenay who has gone through so many adventures? And he doesn?t believe in ghosts either?says there are no such things as ghosts. But then ? What?s that? All lines and ribs and arteries and veins??

With sudden courage he looked up again. The ghost had thrust the wrinkled palm of one hand through the bars of the window. It lifted the silver bracelet belonging to Ketan, then withdrew.

?Ketanbhai!? cried Pravin shaking him awake. ?Wake up! Your?er?bracelet?it?s stolen?stolen by the ghost!? Ketan got up with a start. ?What are you talking about?? he said.

?There! Look there! In the window! Your bracelet?s gone! Taken by the ghost!?

?Why should a ghost ? My God! It does look queer!? Ketan caught a glimpse of the hideous face.

?It doesn?t look human! He muttered.

?No human being could reach so high to steal it.?

?No! And there was no ladder near the wall either!? Faster Fenay, woken by the chatter, quickly scrambled to his friends? side.

?The ghost, Faster Fenay ? the ghost! Whispered Pravin in his ear. ?There goes the ghost with Ketandada?s bracelet!?

To be continued

B.R. Bhagwat?s short story, Faster Fenay Lays a Ghost, translated from Marathi by the author, first appeared in the children?s magazine Target, edited by Rosalind Wilson. It was later published in the short story collection, The Carpenter?s Apprentice, by Katha, a Delhi-based non-profit organisation and publishing house.