“We didn't SEE anything,” replied The Oskaloosa Kid; “but we heard things. At least we didn't see what we heard; but we saw a dead man on the floor when we went in and this morning he was gone.” The Cases shuddered. “A dead man!” ejaculated Jeb Case. “Yew seen him?” The Kid nodded. “I never tuk much stock in them stories,” said Jeb, with a shake of his head; “but ef you SEEN it! Gosh! Thet beats me. Come on M'randy, les see what we got to spare,” and he turned into the kitchen with his wife. The lanky boy stepped out, and planting himself in front of The Oskaloosa Kid proceeded to stare at him. “Yew seen it?” he asked in awestruck tone. “Yes,” said the Kid in a low voice, and bending close toward the other; “it had bloody froth on its lips!” The Case boy shrank back. “An' what did yew hear?” he asked, a glutton for thrills. “Something that dragged a chain behind it and came up out of the cellar and tried to get in our room on the second floor,” explained the youth. “It almost got us, too,” he added, “and it did it all night.” “Whew,” whistled the Case boy. “Gosh!” Then he scratched his head and looked admiringly at the youth. “What mought yer name be?” he asked. “I'm The Oskaloosa Kid,” replied the youth, unable to resist the admiration of the other's fond gaze. “Look here!” and he fished a handful of jewelry from one of his side pockets; “this is some of the swag I stole last night when I robbed a house.” Case Jr. opened his mouth and eyes so wide that there was little left of his face. “But that's nothing,” bragged The Kid. “I shot a man, too.” “Last night?” whispered the boy. “Yep,” replied the bad man, tersely. “Gosh!” said the young Mr. Case, but there was that in his facial expression which brought to The Oskaloosa Kid a sudden regret that he had thus rashly confided in a stranger. “Say,” said The Kid, after a moment's strained silence. “Don't tell anyone, will you? If you'll promise I'll give you a dollar,” and he hunted through his roll of bills for one of that lowly denomination. “All right,” agreed the Case boy. “I won't say a word--where's the dollar?” The youth drew a bill from his roll and handed it to the other. “If you tell,” he whispered, and he bent close toward the other's ear and spoke in a menacing tone; “If you tell, I'll kill you!” “Gosh!” said Willie Case. At this moment Case pere and mere emerged from the kitchen loaded with provender. “Here's enough an' more'n enough, I reckon,” said Jeb Case. “We got eggs, butter, bread, bacon, milk, an' a mite o' garden sass.” “But we ain't goin' to charge you nothin' fer the garden sass,” interjected Mrs. Case. “That's awfully nice of you,” replied The Kid. “How much do I owe you for the rest of it?” “Oh,” said Jeb Case, rubbing his chin, eyeing the big roll of bills and wondering just the limit he might raise to, “I reckon 'bout four dollars an' six bits.”