“‘Why, it’s a pig in the bag instead of a boy!’ he cried in great surprise. ‘Well, I’ll soon fix him so he can’t get away!’ and he tied up the opening with a string. ‘But where is that boy that spoke to me just now?’
“Mr. Smythers looked under the wagon, searched both sides of the road, and even the trees, but of course found no one. Greatly perplexed he got into his buckboard and drove on, glancing back every few minutes to see if there wasn’t a boy around somewhere. After he had driven about a mile he ceased looking around, and as we were going through a dense forest, I decided to try to escape. The bag I was in had a hole in it (that is why I had chosen it), and it was not difficult to make the opening larger by tearing the rotten threads. Little by little I squeezed myself out, and dropping off the back of the buckboard, fell in a heap in the road.
“‘Now I am free,’ I thought, and I wandered deeper and deeper into the woods until I found you.”
CHAPTER VI
THE HOUSE AT THE END OF A ROPE
“Hm,” said Snythergen when Squeaky had finished his tale, and for some time he remained silent. At last he spoke.
“I think we had better build a house!”