"That's a smoke-house," said Mr. Trimble. "It's where I smoke my hams and bacon. I hang them up in there, build a fire of corn-cobs and hickory wood chips, and make a thick smoke. The smoke dries the ham and bacon so it will keep all winter."
"What a funny house!" said Sue.
"It hasn't any windows," observed Bunny.
"We have to have smoke-houses tight and without windows," explained Mr. Trimble, "so the smoke won't all get out."
"Are there any hams or bacon in there now?" asked Mr. Brown.
"No, we don't do any smoking until fall, when we kill the pigs."
"Well, there's something in there that bothers our dog," went on the children's father. For, all this while, Splash was running around the smoke-house, barking more loudly than before.
Just then Bunny Brown thought of something. He pulled at his father's coat and whispered to him:
"Oh, Daddy! Maybe Tom Vine is shut up in there—shut up in the smoke-house!"
Mr. Brown looked first at Bunny and then at the strange little house which had no windows. The door of it was tightly shut.