Suddenly he heard Ken call. Stepping outside, he saw his friend in the doorway of the best-preserved building.
“Come here,” Ken urged.
Jack went quickly across the empty, dusty street.
“This is no ghost town,” Ken said in a low tone.
“What d’ you mean, Ken?”
“I’ll show you.”
Ken led inside to the stone-and-clay fireplace where ashes lay deep on the hearth. Beside the fireplace was a pile of neatly stacked wood.
“Feel those ashes,” Ken directed.
There was no need for Jack to do so for, when he stirred them with the toe of his boot, they gave off a thread of smoke.
“Someone’s been here!” Ken announced. “In the last few hours, too.”