The Watermelon immediately jumped to the porch, disdaining the few steps, and disappeared behind the vines which covered one end and concealed the window. Bartlett turned reassuringly to the general. "It will be all right, Charlie. Don’t worry about it. Why, I’ve always called Mrs. Higgins, Aunt Sally." Visions of hot sausages, bread and milk die hard when one is hungry and the general snorted. "That’s all right. I am hungry enough to break into the Bank of England if it resulted in something to eat, but what can we find in an empty house?" "Ghosts," said Henrietta. Billy pinched her. "If you think there are ghosts in there, Henrietta, I simply won’t go in." "Certainly there are ghosts," said Henrietta. "There always are in empty houses. Where else do you find them?" "We will return to the village," declared the general, "and get something to eat. I will get the book—" "An empty house is better than the countryside," said Bartlett. "And we have plenty to eat in that basket Henrietta put up." "If there is something to eat—" wavered the general. A light gleamed a moment through the crack of the door and then the door opened and the Watermelon grinned at them in the light of a small smoky lamp he held. "Where did you get the lamp?" asked the general as the Watermelon led the way in. "Found it," said the Watermelon. "The place is furnished. The family is probably only away for a visit." He set the lamp on the table and from long habit wiped his dusty hand on his trouser leg. "I fell over everything in the room before I got next to the fact." He glanced about with some pride and the others stood in a semicircle and stared around. The room was a typical country kitchen, a huge stove side by side with a large chintz-covered rocking-chair. A dresser for the crockery and a haircloth lounge took up one side. There was a center-table with a red checked cloth, a few chairs and a sewing-machine near the window. On the walls were a number of cheap prints and several huge advertising calendars With gay pictures of young women in large hats and low-cut dresses. Bartlett glanced around and at every unfamiliar object his heart sank lower and lower and his first sickening suspicion became a painful fact. He had never been in that room before. The Higginses had never lived there. Everything was strange, the furniture, the rugs, the very shape of the room. Where were they? Whose house had they unceremoniously broken into? A clammy chill crept down Bartlett’s back and his florid face grew still redder. None of the others was noticing him. The general was prowling around to see that the enemy could not come upon them unawares. The Watermelon had lifted the basket on to the table and the girls were preparing gaily to set forth the repast, all three rummaging in closets and drawers for plates and knives and forks.