I didn’t exactly want to go over to that shack and I guess Westy felt the same way. I’m not afraid of tramps but, gee whiz, I’m not especially stuck on bandits. And there were a lot of those around lately, shooting up automobiles. “Well, we’re here and we’ve got to go over,” I said, “or else what was the use of coming down here? There’s somebody in that shack, I bet.” We went over toward the shack, and tiptoed when we got close to it, so as not to make a bit of noise. The door was shut and there wasn’t any window. We came right close to the boards and held our breath and listened.... CHAPTER XXII—IN THE SHACK Westy said, “Sh-h, do you hear anything inside?” We both stood there listening, but there wasn’t a sound. I said, “If it’s a bandit what will we do?” “Shall I open the door?” he whispered. He opened the door ever so little and we peeked in. “Nothing there,” I said. “Sh-h, yes, there is,” Westy whispered. “Look.” Over in the corner was something that looked like a bag, and as I looked at it I saw it was a person. It was a kid, about ten years old I guess. He had a gray suit on. He was sound asleep. “Some bandit,” Westy said. “Who is it, do you know?” [Illustration: WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?] I said, “Search me. That’s a funny looking outfit he’s got on. Shall we wake him up?” Westy said, “Sure.” So we began shaking him and pretty soon he opened his eyes and began gaping and staring. I guess the kid must have thought he was dreaming because he curled up again. Then when I spoke he gave another yawn and sat up and began rubbing his eyes and staring at us. His hair was all mussed up and he reached for his hat, kind of half awake. Then I saw that his hat and his suit were both made out of the same kind of stuff, muslin sort of. I saw his shoes were awful thick, too. His suit was all wrinkled and it didn’t fit him very well and he looked awful funny. He was good and scared when he found he was really awake and that there was somebody there. All of a sudden he stood up and he looked as if he was going to make a break for the door. Then I saw that his trousers came almost down to his ankles. I said, “You needn’t be scared; we’re not going to hurt you.” He said, “I wouldn’ leave yer take me back.” I said, “Take you back where?” We saw he was trying to edge around to the door, so Westy stood there so he couldn’t get out. It was awful dark and damp in there. There were spider-webs all around inside, and you could smell the earth. I lifted up the board he had been lying on and there were all worms under it and slugs that went scooting around. I said, “What are you doing here? Where did you come from, anyway?” He said, “If you don’t tell them, if you don’t take me back I’ll—I’ll give you—as much as a thousand dollars.” I said, “Thanks. You haven’t got it with you, have you?” “I’m—I’m going to get it,” he said. “If you tell—if you take me back—you’ll only get three hundred dollars.”