A glance across to one corner of the room interested him. Upon the floor lay the intruder. He had upset a chair, and he was using its slanting back as a pillow. On another chair he had set a lighted piece of candle. In a posture of ease and comfort he lay reading a well-thumbed book, while gnawing away at a great hunk of dry bread. His face was turned away from the trap door. He was so engrossed in eating and reading, that, unobserved, Tom was able to get up into the room and Ben was half way through the trap door before the trespasser was aware of it.
“Well, we’ve caught you right in the act, have we?” spoke Tom suddenly.
With a slight cry and starting up into a sitting posture, the intruder stared hard at his unexpected visitors. He seemed to scan their faces searchingly. His own, at first startled, broke into a pleasant smile.
“That’s just what you’ve done,” he admitted.
“Pretty cool about it,” observed Ben.
“Not so cool as I’ve been, sleeping in the damp grass a few foggy mornings lately. What are you going to do with me, fellows?”
The speaker rose to his feet with something of an effort. Then Tom noticed that he limped on one foot. The lad was thin and pale, too. He righted the upset chair and sat down on it. Ben placed the box on a table and leaned against it, regarding the stranger with curiosity. Tom sank into another chair.
“We’re not judges or officers,” he said, “but we are in charge here now.”
“Then I’d better get out, I suppose,” said the boy.
“What did you come in for in the first place? That’s what we’re interested in knowing,” remarked Ben pointedly.