As for the hut itself, it was a primitive shelter of rough logs, the roof of which had been formed out of "slabs" split from the logs direct. A stone chimney was crumbling away at one end, but it was many a year since any cheerful wreaths of smoke had wound upward from it.
The boys were alone, Cal and Herr Muller having remained to attend to the auto and build a fire. Somehow, in the fading evening light, this ruined human habitation on the edge of the dark Sierran forest had an uncanny effect on the boys. The stillness was profound. And half consciously the lads sank their voices to whispers as they drew closer.
"S-s-s-s-say hadn't we b-b-b-better go back and g-g-g-get a g-gun?" suggested Ding-dong in an awe-struck tone.
"What for," rejoined Joe, whose voice was also sunk to a low pitch, "not scared, are you?"
"N-n-n-no, but it seems kind of creepy somehow."
"Nonsense," said Nat crisply, "come on, let's see what's inside."
By this time they were pretty close to the place, and a few strides brought Nat to the rotting door. It was locked apparently, for, as he gave it a vigorous shake, it did not respond but remained closed.
"Come on, fellows. Bring your shoulders to bear," cried Nat, "now then all together!"
Three strong young bodies battered the door with their shoulders with all their might, and at the first assault the clumsy portal went crashing off its hinges, falling inward with a startling "bang."
"Look out!" yelled Nat as it subsided, and it was well he gave the warning.