In one corner was a heap of dirt and fragments of paper; the floor was stained as if with ink, as were the walls of hewn boards.
From the window the stable was all with the exception of trees, to be seen. A more desolate spot could not well be imagined, and to add to its loneliness was the fact that it must be many miles from the nearest habitation.
Jet had no time to speculate upon his own condition; the only thought in his mind just then was why these men chose to live in such a forsaken place.
In an adjoining room he could hear some person walking around briskly, evidently moving heavy articles from one spot to another, and from below came the hum of conversation.
Having nothing better to do, and still intent on trying to learn the purpose for which this house was intended, Jet began kicking away the pile of dirt.
A bit of bright green attracted his attention.
Picking it up he found to his great surprise and delight that it was a new ten dollar bill. The fact, that it was unsigned escaped his notice.
"Well, this isn't so bad," he said, in a tone of satisfaction. "If I ever do get away from this place I'll have money enough to pay my fare to New York. I s'pose it belongs to them fellers; but I'm going to keep it, all the same, to even up for what they've done."
Now the dirt pile had great attractions.
He examined it closely, and had the satisfaction of finding a second bill exactly like the first.