"I won't, kid!" Nickie murmured sleepily. Then he sat up. "What's wrong?" "I'm gonna write a note, Nickie--I'll tell you why after. What I want you to do is go over to the door an' listen for Frost's snore. If he stops, gimme the high sign. I'm gonna light the lantern an' take it over by the window. The light won't show into the hall from there." "Good dope, kid," Nickie agreed, stepping out onto the floor. "But what you gonna write with, hah? You gave Frost back the pencil." Skippy winked. "I got my own, but I didn't wanna make him suspicious. I wanted some paper so's I could write this note tonight when I got the chance. If I didn't ask for a pencil, then he'd know I had one--get me? I tore up the one sheet I scribbled on--tore it up in a lotta pieces so's he could see it. He won't know whether it's one or two sheets of his paper that I used an' I'm takin' a chance he thinks it's the two sheets. Anyway, I don't think he'll give it a thought that I held back the other sheet 'cause I give him back the pencil." "Kid, there's no mud on you," said Nickie admiringly. "Get the lantern an' write your note. I'll listen an' if I hear a peep outa him, I'll cough--see?" Skippy got the lantern down from the hook on the side wall. He took it over to the window and set it down firmly on the sill, then spread out the neatly folded note-paper and began to write: "After the accident we rode and rode--through woods and every place, I don't know where. It was eight or nine o'clock when we got here, a terrible lonesome house with swamp and woods all round. It's got bars all inside on the windows so we can't get out. A boy named Timmy Brogan went with him tonight so a feller named Frost (his pal) is here with us now. There's three kids besides me and maybe by the time you get this two will be gone. Anyway, boss, all I can tell you about it, is Frost said this house used to be in a village but the village burned down all round it. So instead of building up the village again the people moved twenty-five miles away near a railroad--that was seventy-five years ago. Frost says it's the house that people forgot and he says nobody knew about it but a nit-wit hermit that died last year. So this is all I know about where I am. I get headaches kind of from it being so hot in this house with all the shutters closed too, but outside of that, I'm all right. Devlin's terrible mysterious and queer acting boss and the kid that went tonight said _he_ was a worse man than ever you think. Anyway, I hope I can give this to somebody soon so you can find out where we are and help us.... Skip".... Nickie was still a patient sentinel and he smiled encouragingly. Skippy took heart and folded up the note and wrote outside: "To Whoever Gets this Will they Please send this to the Manhattan World, New York City ... thanks.... And keep this a secret or else we'll be taken away and won't get helped!" Below it, he added: