He glanced over to the far dim end of the place. Baker had built a regular cross-corner barricade of packing boxes, man-high.
Bart set the lantern on the bench and approached the roustabout's hide-out.
"Are you there, Mr. Baker?" he inquired.
"Yes, I did just as you told me to do," came the reply, but the speaker did not show himself.
"Well, here's a blanket. Can you make up a comfortable bed?"
"Oh, yes, I've got a broad board on a slant, and plenty of room."
Bart lifted over the lunch basket.
"There you are!" he said briskly—"now enjoy yourself, and don't take a single care about anything. Have you made out that list of things you want?"
"Yes, here it is," and Baker handed over a piece of paper inclosing the ten-dollar bill.
"I'll attend to this promptly," said Bart. "Supposing I look it over right here? There may be some things you have noted down I want to ask you about."