The Daus stopped when a gray mini-van circled in front of them. The occupants were picking up the Ronald McDonald dolls. Dau rushed up. “What’s this all about?” he demanded. Being in uniform, he reasoned that if these were the culprits who set out the dolls, they would take off, or at least would be apprehensive.
“No, they were friendly, a man and woman,” Dau said. “They said they lived ‘over there’ – pointing in the direction of a section of the mobile home park. The woman said that they, too, had spotted all those dolls in the road and were picking them up before something happened to them.” Rain was expected during the night. “I did not suspect them of anything. I didn’t even get their names. They asked if we had any children; I told them I had two nieces and they handed me two of the dolls and said I should give them to them. They did not say what they were going to do with all the rest of the dolls. It looked like they were putting them in their van.”
No apparent crime had been committed. Mr. and Mrs. Dau went to bed, disturbed by what he says was not an apparition, but the real thing. Next morning, Dau hurried outside to look at the roads. Not a Ronald McDonald doll was in sight.
