He cut down the side path to the building. The bare earth, where the leaves had blown away, was damp from the night dew, and his bare feet padded noiselessly along. He broke out into the small clearing that faced the front of the building and stopped abruptly.
For a second he had thought the figure moving hurriedly away from the rear of the building was Bill, and he had been just about to whistle a greeting. Now he saw that it was a man, and while he could only see a portion of his shoulders and head, he thought of Mr. Caldwell, the man who had driven into the village the day before. “Hi, Mr. Caldwell!” he yelled.
The man turned for an instant to face the boy, then whirled about and hurried into the woods.
The man’s face had been in the shadows for that single instant he had faced Ronnie, and the boy still wasn’t sure whether he was the man who had paid them the visit and promised to return for a talk with Mr. Rorth. Ronnie shrugged, as if to tell himself that it really didn’t matter. If it had been Caldwell, he’d explain his actions later.
Ronnie decided to take a quick swing around the building to see if he could find anything that might tell him about the light he had seen the evening before. The rusty lock, snapped in place three or four years before when Grandfather had abandoned his search, was still in place. The window shutters were as tightly closed. Everything looked perfectly normal.
“Strangest thing ever,” he said to himself. He was beginning to believe he had been seeing things the night before.
He spied a narrow crack where the shutter did not fit tight against the window frame, but it was a little too high to look through. But off in one of the thickets of hemlock saplings, he saw a fair-sized log. He grabbed hold of it, rolled it over beneath the window, and then wedged a smaller piece of wood under it to keep it from moving.
Holding onto the window frame for support, Ronnie climbed onto the log and placed his right eye against the crack. The room was dark except for the glow from a faint patch of light that found its way down the chimney flues.
The light, however, was sufficient for him to make a very puzzling discovery. Somebody, apparently, had spent the night sleeping in the boarded-up house! Spread out on the hearth was Mrs. Butler’s missing blanket. The stub of a candle was waxed securely to the floor, and a flashlight lay to one side.
“Hi, Ronnie!” he heard Bill’s voice behind him. “Gee, let me take a look inside too!”