CHAPTER V
A CALL FOR HELP
Jerry was holding something up when he said this, which he had just picked out of the cavity under the loose plank.
"Why, it looks as though it had once been a baby's shoe, I should say," suggested Frank.
"Just what it is, but as old as the hills," remarked Jerry. "I wonder now, did it slip down here, or was it carried by the old mother rat when this nest was made?"
He fumbled among the scraps of paper and such stuff that had gone to form the nest of the rodent. One piece seemed to be a part of an envelope. The writing was fairly visible, though age had yellowed the paper.
"What do you think of this, fellows?" Jerry demanded, as though interested. "I can make out part of a name here, and whose do you reckon it is?"
"Oh, tell, and don't keep a fellow guessing!" urged Bluff impatiently.
"The word Aaron is as plain as anything," pursued Jerry, "and then there's part of the next one Denni—so you see it really looks as if away back, twenty years ago or perhaps even much longer, the rich old hermit used to actually live here in this log cabin. In those days he was land poor, mebbe; and say, the shoe—why, he must have had a wife, and a baby, too!"