"At last!" cried Billy, when he found himself in Never Was. "But I'll never again cross a bridge before I come to it--it makes too much unnecessary trouble." And off he started down the street to find Bogie Man's house. There did not seem to be a soul on the streets. Nearly every house that Billy passed was shut up tight and had a board tacked on the front door reading, "Gone away for life--back next eternity." Each one was signed by the owner--and such a lot of names as he read! One was "Hobgoblin," another "Gnome," another "Bloody Bones," another was "Wicked Giant," another "Cruel Stepmother," another "Boog a Boo," and so on and so on. In fact, almost every one of the things or people that frighten little boys and girls, and even some that used to frighten grown-ups, had left this earth for parts unknown. "It looks to me," said Billy, "as though Bogie Man was about the only one of the whole lot who is left, and he seems to be pretty hard to find." "Finders losers, keepers weepers," said a voice, and Billy was surprised to see a little peg-legged man standing in front of him. "Why!" said Billy, "where did you come from? You are the first person I've seen here, and I began to think I was the only one in town." "Don't ever get that idea," said the little man. "What idea?" "That you are the only one any place; there are always a few more better than you are wherever you are." "I suppose so," said Billy. "I don't suppose it, I know it, because seeing is not believing." "What is the meaning of that?" "That's a secret; some day perhaps I'll not tell you." "I never heard such nonsense," said Billy, "and I've heard a great deal the last few days." "Many a fib is told in jest, you know, but it's not my fault if I do talk nonsense--that is the misfortune of having a wooden leg," and the little man made a dab at Billy's toes with his stump. "What has a wooden leg got to do with it?" "Nothing at all. I merely mentioned that it is a misfortune to have a wooden leg." "I should think it would be hard to bear," said Billy, sympathetically. "No, because it's already bare. But I shouldn't complain, I make my living on it." "Your living--how can that be?" "I guess you don't know who I am?" and the little man struck an attitude. "No, I don't." "I am Mumbledy Peg, Bogie Man's Official Potato Masher." "Ugh," said Billy, in disgust, "how dirty!" "Dirty--why?" "To mash potatoes with your wooden leg." "But I don't; I use a potato masher like anybody else." "Then I don't see why you said you made your living with your wooden leg." "I didn't. I said I made my living on it, and I do, because I always stand up to mash potatoes." And Mumbledy Peg spun around on his wooden leg in great delight. "You're making fun of me," said Billy. "No, you were already funny; I didn't make you so." [Illustration: _Mumbledy Peg._] "If you can't talk seriously and without insulting me----" began Billy.