Detective Burton could scarce restrain a smile as he listened to this wildly improbable tale, yet his professional instinct was too keen to permit him to cast aside as worthless the faintest evidence until he had proven it to be worthless. He stepped from the car again and motioning to Willie to follow him returned to the Case yard where Jeb was already coming toward the gate, having noted the interest which his son was arousing among the occupants of the car. Willie pulled at the detective's sleeve. “Don't tell Paw about the reward,” he begged; “he'll keep it all hisself.” Burton reassured the boy with a smile and a nod, and then as he neared Jeb he asked him if a young man had been at his place that morning asking for food. “Sure,” replied Jeb; “but he didn't 'mount to nothin'. One o' these here summer camper pests. He paid fer all he got. Had a roll o' bills 's big as ye fist. Little feller he were, not much older 'n' Willie.” “Did you know that he told your son that he was The Oskaloosa Kid and that he had robbed a house and killed a man last night?” “Huh?” exclaimed Jeb. Then he turned and cast one awful look at Willie--a look large with menace. “Honest, Paw,” pleaded the boy. “I was a-scairt to tell you, 'cause he said he'd kill me ef I told.” Jeb scratched his head. “Yew know what you'll get ef you're lyin' to me,” he threatened. “I believe he's telling the truth,” said detective Burton. “Where is the man now?” he asked Willie. “Down to the Squibbs' place,” and Willie jerked a dirty thumb toward the east. “Not now,” said Burton; “we just came from there; but there has been someone there this morning, for there is still a fire in the kitchen range. Does anyone live there?” “I should say not,” said Willie emphatically; “the place is haunted.” “Thet's right,” interjected Jeb. “Thet's what they do say, an' this here Oskaloosie Kid said they heered things las' night an' seed a dead man on the floor, didn't he M'randy?” M'randy nodded her head. “But I don't take no stock in what Willie's ben tellin' ye,” she continued, “'n' ef his paw don't lick him I will. I told him tell I'm good an' tired o' talkin' thet one liar 'round a place wuz all I could stand,” and she cast a meaning glance at her husband. “Honest, Maw, I ain't a-lyin',” insisted Willie. “Wot do you suppose he give me this fer, if it wasn't to keep me from talkin',” and the boy drew a crumpled one dollar bill from his pocket. It was worth the dollar to escape a thrashing. “He give you thet?” asked his mother. Willie nodded assent. “'N' thet ain't all he had neither,” he said. “Beside all them bills he showed me a whole pocket full o' jewlry, 'n' he had a string o' things thet I don't know jest what you call 'em; but they looked like they was made outen the inside o' clam shells only they was all round like marbles.”